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goldentsum · 4 years

Text

— delivery boy

PAIRING: shinsou x reader

GENRE: fluff, awkward scenes

WORDCOUNT: 2.3k

SUMMARY: a sleep-deprived college student just trying to get by the hellhole he’s in by getting a job as a delivery boy. shinsou hates what he does but if he can get a certain cutie, it might lessen his hatred for his job.

TAGS: college au, just fluff with soft and awkward shinsou, sleep-deprived! shinsou as always, cursing, crack

AUTHOR’S NOTE: quarantine made me do it. sighhh, can’t i have a cute delivery boy everytime i order shit? also, shinsou is me pls. D:<

shinsou hates his job. he doesn’t like it one bit. the way some orders are too long that he was using his big brain juice all the time or when someone cancels their order when he already bought the fucking food, he absolutely hates it. his faith in humanity is decreasing at a rapid speed with his job, not like it exists to begin with anyway.

the purple-haired male is proud of his 4.0 gpa despite him slowly losing his sanity as he lose sleep over it but there was this asshole of a teacher in literature 3 was making it difficult to maintain it just because the old geezer has his head stuck in his ass and he won’t even give them the ppt slides, that asshole.

shinsou rubbed his tired eyes while his one hand typed on his computer, listening to the asshole professor in front. the male craned his neck and massaged his neck then took a quick sip of coffee, closing his eyes as he did so. when he opened his eyes the slide in front was already different, making him put down his drink in surprise and tried to copy the notes in a hurry, cursing quietly when he noticed that the last sentence in his notes was cut off.

he fussed over his notes because it was the only thing that’s keeping him from failing the class. the professor was an asshole and liked to pick on his students and shinsou absolutely hates him. he swears when he graduates, he’ll curse the professor off and flip him off as he walks away from this hellhole.

when the class finished, shinsou looked at his notes in horror. it was cut off in a lot of places and so incoherent that when he tried to read it, he thought he gave himself an aneurysm because of it.

his tired eyes stared blankly at his screen while his internal monologue went on about how he’ll just find a sugar mommy and live his best life while the other students went out the room. his thoughts were then cut off when he heard an oh so familiar voice echoing out to him like a siren in the sea.

purple eyes turned to the side and saw you with your friends who were waiting outside the classroom door as you walked away from his sight. shinsou’s not gonna admit it but he finds you really pretty. you’re just so soft and small compared to him. your sweet smile was always present every morning unlike his dead eyes and resting bitch face. annoyingly, you always distract him from the lessons which freaks him out.

no one has ever fazed him but then you came along with your annoyingly pretty face and aesthetic outfits. always sitting beside him, you smelled really sweet too as creepy as that sounds, and you always greet him with such softness that it made him wanna vomit rainbows and sparkles. no one has ever caught his attention so how the hell can you distract him without even doing anything?

also, why do you write your notes in a notebook and still make it look really good and clean? every time he looks over to your side, he sees your notes and his eyes bulge out when your pretty handwriting, the cute and small illustrations, and pretty colors of your notes fill his sight.

that’s also one of the things shinsou liked admired about you. you’re probably the only person in your whole batch who writes their notes on a notebook, not that it’s a bad thing but how can your notes still be so pretty and organized even with professor asshole’s hellish pace of changing the slides?

shinsou sighed and ran a hand through his messy tresses then fixed his things up to get away from the hellhole and come home to his lovely bed. It must've been at least 24 hours since he last slept because he was up all night the other day to fix and perfect every assignment in the devil’s class.

when he finally got to his dorm, a huge sigh of relief left him as the tall male practically collapsed on his bed. his fatigue overcame him in an instant as his eyes closed in instinct, finally sleeping after stressing so much and intaking coffee, lots of coffee. thank god that it was friday and he didn’t have to wake up early because he finally passed his requirements to every class for the semester.

it was already the next afternoon when shinsou woke up, his body ached but at least he wasn’t running on caffeine to keep him from falling over and dying on the spot.

loud clanking was heard from his kitchen as he perked up in confusion for a moment then groaned in dread when he realized who it was. shinsou let his head hit the pillow once again, staring at his ceiling and he felt a headache coming in already.

fucking kaminari is in his dorm again. he didn’t get the blond’s actions but the latter always told him that he was “making sure he wasn’t dead yet” but shinsou knows that kaminari only wants free food but he appreciates the effort, he guesses but can’t kaminari check if he wasn’t dead a little quieter?

he sighed in annoyance and grabbed his phone, going out after stretching and feeling his bone pop satisfyingly. shinsou was greeted with the sight of kaminari fighting with the sizzling oil on the pan in his kitchen.

“what the fuck are you doing?” shinsou’s bored voice reached the blond male who looked at him and smiled, “morning dude. i noticed you had bacon so i’m gonna cook it.”

shinsou was about to reply but the sharp yelp kaminari let out cut him off and he watched the shorter male curse at the pan, rubbing the spot where the hot oil hit him.

he scoffed at the scene and shook his head as he sat on the couch and opened the tv. he was scrolling idly through the channels and when he didn’t find anything entertaining, he stopped on the news.

opening his phone to check his social media feed as he let the tv and kaminari’s curses and screams become background noises. shinsou just wants to see what type of shit people are in these days and it wasn’t because he’s gonna stalk your account. definitely not that.

shinsou scrolled through your pictures on ig, admiring the aesthetic ones combined with chaotic energy in your profile. he smiled a bit when he noticed you unarchived an old pic in your ig. you had shorter hair in the picture and wore some funky shades.

“ohh~ who’s that? she’s cute” kaminari popped out behind him, looking at shinsou’s phone over his shoulders. shinsou jumped at his friend’s presence, letting go off his phone accidentally as he tried to grab it to not let it smack against the hard floor.

when shinsou saved his phone, he whipped his head and glared at kaminari, “what the fuck, denki!”

“geez, sorry man” the latter nervously chuckled and walked back to the kitchen with fear coursing in his body when the taller male’s glare didn’t falter. shinsou rolled his eyes at him and looked at his phone. his usual dead eyes widened whilst horror filled his system.

on his phone, it showed your old picture from a year ago and on the bottom left, the heart was filled. shinsou quickly unliked the picture and threw the phone beside him on the couch as if it burned him.

“what the fuck what the fuck no no no no--” he mumbled in distress, his heart beating a mile per second. he paled when he imagined seeing you again in class on monday.

“i’m gonna puke,” shinsou muttered and held his head, eyes wavering in fear. kaminari poked his head from the kitchen and saw his distressed figure.

“um? shinsou? are you okay, dude?”

when he heard kaminari’s voice, his head whipped to him in a snap. shinsou smiled at him as a shiver ran down kaminari’s spine. “do i look okay, denki?”

a loud scream echoed in shinsou’s dorm and that was the last time anyone has ever seen kaminari denki. rip.

shinsou was stressing the fuck out, he even felt tears prick his eyes with how stressed out he is. nothing could compare to the stress he’s feeling right now well maybe his first finals was also this stressful but that’s not the point. kaminari tried to cheer him up with some bacon and eggs but the male was so snappy though he ate the food after denki left.

after sulking in his dorm, he shook it off and tried to take his mind off it. he showered, worked out a bit in his room, and made some shake but the embarrassment was always looming in the back of his mind. you might think he’s a creep or something. you two barely talked to each other with only good mornings and pleasantries exchanged for the whole semester so what the hell is he gonna do?!

before he knew it, he was accepting some orders in his phone to let out some steam and keep him busy. for the first 2 orders everything was fine but he suddenly got tired and the shame he left at his apartment was still in his system. so he accepted the last order for today before going back to his dorm to do his last resort of screaming into the void. he then went to the boba shop to get the orders.

getting the order, he went straight to a nearby dorm in his campus that’s being shown in his phone to get the money and yeet himself out afterwards. shinsou rubbed his neck, mentally and physically tired after going around and delivering people their food and from getting a harsh life-changing embarrassment happen to him. he’s never gonna stalk you or anyone for that matter again and if he ever sees you again, he’s gonna jump through the nearest fucking window, he doesn’t even care anymore.

as he rang the doorbell and waited for someone to open the door and get the heavy milk teas off his hand, he was already thinking of going to another school and just live a whole new second life. dramatic as that sounds but it was tempting at this point.

but life was not having it. life wants to see him suffer thoroughly. before he thought he just had some bad luck but now, he knows that life was fucking him over and laughing at his misery.

the door opened and in came to view the last person he wants to see right now, you, and it’s not fair, why are you answering the door with an oversized shirt and some shorts with messy hair, looking like a goddamn cutie! you want to kill him, don’t you?

your (e/c) eyes gleam with familiarity when you see the awkward tall male from your class and saw the precious boba in one of his hands.

“shinsou, right? i didn’t know you did delivery?” you smiled at him making the purple-headed male scream internally. he cleared his throat awkwardly and nodded, “y-yeah, the pay isn’t that much but it helps...” he replied so painfully awkward that if anyone sees you two, they’ll cringe. it was that bad.

but being the angel that you are, you giggled and nodded as if you weren’t affected by his awkwardness. he’s thankful for that.

“wait a second, okay? i’ll get the payment” you chimed and he nodded as you run inside the dorm. shinsou’s mind was running a mile per second, did you not receive the notification of his shameful actions? or were you being an angel and sparing him the embarrassment?

he wants to hibernate and never leave him bed after this. shinsou snapped out of his thoughts when he saw you jogging towards him with the same beautiful smile you wear everyday and he unconsciously straightened up.

“here you go! thank you, shinsou!” you giggled and got the milk teas of his hands while you gave the money to him.

“thank you, (y/n)... um, are you gonna drink all of that?” he asked, cursing his mouth when he just blurted it out. your eyebrows quirk playfully and chuckled, shaking your head no.

“no, silly. my friends are inside” shinsou nodded stiffly and looked around making you two just stand in silence. a painfully awkward silence. shinsou saw you were about to say something but a loud voice from inside the room called out.

“(y/n), where the fuck are you?! the boba! ..shit-! i saw that, you cheater!” you looked back and rolled your eyes then looked back at him. you waved your hand at him with a smile, “well bye, shinsou. thanks again” and closed the door.

shinsou exhaled a deep breath he didn’t know he was holding, looking at the closed door. he then walked away though his eyes were going to the door again and again until he couldn’t see it anymore. he looked at his hand and saw a piece of paper inside the bundle of money.

with furrowed brows, he opened the folded paper and he was floored!

hi shinsou! call me sometime! :)

xxx-xxxxxxx

-(y/n)

okay, maybe being a delivery boy isn’t so bad after all. he got your number didn’t he? talk about lucky!

extra crack ending: when you and shinsou are finally dating

(y/n): so... are we really not gonna talk about the post that you liked in my ig?

shinsou: you knew?!

(y/n): duh bitch.

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superworldunkown · 3 years

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Can you give me a hand?

I was so inspired by @miinagilberts cute little TikTok with MHA hand holding and Bakugou’s was very on brand. So, I took the idea of handholding, and ran with it

Summary: sweaty handholding by day keeps the night terrors away.

While your quirk was powerful and had its perks, it had one terrible drawback. Night terrors. Even the slightest use would cause your dreams to spiral into twisted images, and sleep was rare. That’s why you didn’t want to be a hero, or use it at all for that matter.

But, the more dangerous the world became, the more a quirk like yours was needed. Plus, you ended up having a small crush on a aspiring hero who seemed to be drawn to others with strong quirks so, what’s a few sleepless nights to impress a boy....oh to be 16 and foolish.

When Class 1-C began training with Class 1-A, you were put in positions where you could use your quirk and be of help to the hero course students. Putting your feelings aside, it felt good to be of help, and to have a quirk people called ‘cool’ or ‘powerful’ even. However with each training you’d end up awakening to your own screams or be so exhausted the following day you could barely focus. Everyone knew it when you’d join Mina and her friends for lunch with bags under your eyes that rivaled Aizawa.

“Geez! Are you sure you want to train with us today Y/N? I can tell Mr. Aizawa that you’re sick and I’ll get Momo to bring you some tea.” Kirishima was so wonderful.

“You look terrible.” Bakugou was...Bakguou.

“I’m fine. Perks of the quirk.” You groaned while cracking open a can of heavily caffeinated soda.

“I’ll add eye masks to our study session tonight!” Mina chimed in.

It was nice hanging out with the hero students, they inspired you to use your quirk, even though it had drawbacks. You helped people, even if you weren’t in hero training.

But, who knew the calloused, veiny, explosive hands of your crush rival would soon become the pacifier of your darkest dreams.

You never intended to hold hands with him. It was actually a pleasant accident. One day on a bus ride home after an exhausting day of training, you awoke from dream... a dream? No fucking way.

You lazily blinked your eyes a few times while looking around, “...that’s weird.”

“Hah?” Bakugou’s gruff voice filled your ears. The boy sat next to you, your bodies pressed close together, much to Bakuou’s liking annoyance.

“I didn’t have a night terror...I actually dreamt for once. And it was great!” You glanced down at your hand that was touching against Bakugou’s. No fucking way?

“I gotta say, I think you have a magic touch. I should nap next to you all the time.”

Of course, your sarcasm is what did the trick, and Bakugou immediately recoiled his hand and crossed his arms with a huff. His ears slowly becoming red, “Idiot, these hands’ll murder you next time you touch em!”

Shortly after the first experience there was that time that class 1A and 1C got together to watch movies. It was the teachers way of ‘integrating the classes for better team unity’, or whatever. Rings were starting to form under your eyes as you sat next to Mina with your blanket wrapped around you. And the movie genre tonight was perfect - horror! That way if you fell asleep and your night terrors left you screaming, you could blame it on the film.

As the movie carried on, you felt yourself fighting sleep. Your eyelids taking their time to reopen with each blink. It wasn’t until you heard an irritated sigh and your hand being snatched did you fully jolt awake, staring confused daggers towards the blondes direction.

“Just close your damn eyes already.”

“I thought your hands are only for murdering?”

You glanced down at your blanket that oh so conveniently covered their hand holding.

Even in the dark you could feel the heat brewing in the tips of his ears. But, your eyes softened, and eventually closed. Even though it was twenty minutes, it felt like a lifetime. And, despite Bakugou waking you up by violently retracting his hand from your grasp the moment the lights were turned on, the evening was almost perfect.

One night he called your phone, which was quite surprising because he was 100% that guy who barely responded to your texts, or verbal conversations for that matter.

“Huh?”

“Did I stutter?” He hated repeating himself, “You’re staying over tonight.”

“Bakugou, I don’t understand-”

“Stupid teacher giving us joint grades, I’m not letting your stupid quirk get me anything lower than a 110%! So get your shit and be here by 8!”

He hung up before you could even protest. And you knew he’d be the type to come find you if you didn’t comply. You began to think he was beginning to enjoy the idea of his hands being the one thing to help you sleep. You didn’t mind, if a good night sleep was at the cost of stroking his ego, so be it. The two of you laid as far apart as humanly possible, touching only at the fingertips. And when you awoke in the morning with your foreheads touching and limbs tangled over each other, the both of you silently agreed to never speak of it. But the sleep was wonderful.

And, despite the fact Aizawa didn’t offer extra credit, you did pass your spring semester with a combined score of 108%.

The next time you held his hand was summer; the two of you and the rest of the first years were on a simple rescue mission that turned into a bit of a stakeout. You had been keeping watch for most of the night, and now it was time to switch shifts, and low and behold the explosion hero in training himself was next on duty.

The two of you sat back to back, your eyes becoming heavy with fatigue from using your quirk, his arms bruised from the use of his own. You knew the moment you closed your eyes you’d be plagued by the most terrible things, and you had almost thought you were dreaming when your fingers gingerly touched over his hands and he didn’t move.

“I wont drool on you.” You spoke softly, “promise.”

“You always drool.” He responded eyes facing forward. You couldn’t see Him but you could feel the smirk that was growing across his face. But, when his shoulder slouched ever so slightly, giving you the perfect position to lean your head back, you smiled and rested your eyes.

You weren’t sure what time or day it was the next time he held your hand. Actually you didn’t even know where you were; the last time you had any sort of sense you were watching several pieces of debris fall around you. But now, the walls were in place, and the room was pristine white. Your body ached in the hospital bed you were resting on.

And when you tried to maneuver yourself upright, you found your hand tightly stuck in place underneath Bakugou’s cheek. The boy was leaned over your hospital bed from the adjacent chair, sleeping peacefully at your side, his arms folded on top of one another in a makeshift pillow. A red eye slowly opened, widening a bit at your awakened face,

“I knew you were nearby, I was having the best dream.”

He rolled his eye and slowly closed it, grumbling something before settling back into his own slumber. You kept your hand beneath his, it wasn’t looking like he was going to give it back anytime soon.

One Saturday on a day off from classes the group decided to travel into the city to do some shopping. Everyone needed a bit of ‘normal teenage things’ after the hellish months of villain attacks and finals. As you all were walking along the sidewalk admiring the view or deep in conversation, Bakugou reached for your hand.

“What?” You joked while staring at him, “Tying to put me to sleep or something?”

“Hah, I can’t hold your fucking hand when you’re awake?” Despite his harsh tone, you could sense the timidness behind his words. He stared at the group before asking, in a much softer tone, “Wanna grab food er somethin’?”

Your gave him a gentle squeeze, “Katsuki, I’ve been dreaming about this moment all year.”

And the two of you broke apart from the group down a different road, hand in hand.

#bakugou katsuki #mha #bakugou fanfiction #bakugo #bakugou headcanons #hand holding #bnha

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ficsnroses · 4 years

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Hold You - Keanu Reeves x Reader

ayeee we back out here with another generic fic title:)

Word Count : 2783

Warnings : Nothing besides fluff! One F bomb as well. And a mention (or a few..) of sex.

Summary : Reader cuddles Keanu before bed to cheer him up, & an intimate conversation about their relationship ensues.

A/N : Shout out to @meetmeinthematinee @thesadvampire & @john-wickening for loosely inspiring this during a convo the other day. 🖤

On a chilly February evening, you sit alone, whisked away in a novel, tucked in your queen sized bed. The freshly washed sheets, fragrant with the smell of spring cherry blossoms sprawled around you; make you miss the season forthcoming. It felt like it had been ages since you last saw a vibrant, rosy pink blossom blooming outside.

Someone had gifted you a petite, potted cherry blossom tree as housewarming gift when you and Keanu first purchased your home together. He planted it right in your front yard, where you’d see it each time you come in and out. It had been growing more and more each year, coming back stronger, wiser. You felt it symbolized a lot more than just a shrub, rising in your yard. It had been there since you and Keanu started your journey together, by buying a home, where you’d start a family together. It symbolized all the firsts that would come thereafter, the ups and downs that may follow, the good and the not so good.

But what would always remain, was familiarity. The beauty that would remain evergreen, the growth that would signify endless support. The roots that had found home in what surrounded. The love that grew, season after season,

both outside, in the yard called home to the blossom tree,

and inside, in the house you and your lover called home.

Your husband, Keanu, would be home soon. Night had fallen a few hours long ago, the winter days shorter. You’d often wait for him when he was out later. He’d been out today to the Arch office, working out some stuff with his colleagues for the business. He’d called earlier, letting you know he’d eat out tonight, as they’d ran overtime. You’d planned to watch a movie together before bed though, you missed him all day.

A few moments pass, the pages flipping between your fingers, your gaze intently locked in, inquisitive, absorbed within the tale you’d immersed between. The gray bedroom door flows open, revealing a much tired Keanu, Arch leather jacket swung over his shoulder. His eyes catch yours, as he smiles, rubbing tiredness from his earthy pupils.

“Hi baby.” His gruff voice rasps, as he walks towards the closet.

“Hey, how was it?” you chirp, setting the novel aside on the nightstand, your reading glasses along.

He runs a hand through his lengthy mane, sighing. “It was okay.” He keeps his gaze low, shuffling out of his jeans into some sweatpants, and a plain white sleeping shirt. You admire his bare chest and torso as he does, although his muscles seem tense. Biting your lip, you inquire.

“Everything alright, love?”

Keanu chuckles lightly, the sound barely escaping past his lips as he throws his clothes into the wash hamper. “Everything’s okay. Just…I don’t know. Fatigue I guess.”

“Aw, should we watch a movie tomorrow instead, then?” you propose, fluffing your pearly white pillow.

“I guess.” His deep voice exhales. He walks towards the bed to his side, pulling the covers back. His under eyes are puffier than usual; you know him like the back of your hand. He’s had a long, long day. But he’s never the type to complain or lament. He’s a hard worker, prefers to keep the attention drawn away.

But you were his wife, if you wouldn’t look out for him, who else would?

You bring your hand to touch his forearm, tracing some of the veins along his skin. “You wanna do something else?” bringing yourself in closer, you wrap your hands around his left arm, placing a kiss to his bicep, before you rest your head on it. He seemed tense, hassled. You hated every second seeing him this way.

Keanu brings his right hand to rest over one of yours that is wrapped around his left arm. Gently squeezing, he sighs.

“Do you ever wonder, about how much of everything there is?”

Your brows furrow together, hearing the words come out of his mouth. “Hmmmm…care to elaborate?” you propose, hugging his arm closer, as you’re still leaning on it, sat side by side in bed.

“There so many people, so many stories. So many problems. Do you ever wonder, where does it all end?” he divers his gaze down again. “What if it all ended today? What if all our stories just…ceased to exist? Would we be happy with what we’ve left behind?”

You take in a shaky breath, realizing there’s a ton on his mind right now. Every now and then, Keanu feels down, which is alright, he’s only human. He deserves to feel, as we all do.

You lace his hand with yours, hugging his arm tighter now.

“Hmm, that’s a pretty vast one. I’d like to think we all leave a mark, no matter how big or small. And if we’re content, happy with the way we’re leading our lives when we’re here, does it really matter what we leave behind?”

He slowly nods his head, lips pursing together tighter.

“Bad day?” you ask again.

“I guess. Don’t know why though.”

“That’s alright.” You smile, freeing yourself from him. You move back over to your side of the bed, laying down, and open your arms for him. “Come here.” You smile, nudging him.

He looks down at you, how adorable you looked inviting him in for a snuggle. The cast of the bed side lamp over your skin, paired with the moonlight filtered in made you look delightfully surreal, dreamlike. Your arms were always so warm, so welcoming. As much as it may go against his manly persona, Keanu enjoyed the occasional cuddle of being the little spoon. There was just something so appealing, so lovable, addicting with the way you’d hold him close.

You see a smile creep his lips, as he lowers himself down. Wrapping your arms around him, he tucks his head into your chest, breathing in your lavender scent in an audible inhale. He secures his arms around you as well, holding tight.

This was what it meant to have complete contentment.

You bring a hand up to stroke his silky, dark hair comfortingly, peacefully placing a few kisses to his temple, his head. His breathing is steady, felt against your skin. Gently massaging his scalp with your fingers, you kiss his forehead before speaking.

“What was the highlight of your week, babe?” you find talking to him, normally makes him feel more at ease.

He brings his head out of your chest, pulling away slightly, so he’s now face to face with you. “Definitely that meal we had the other day on that beach restaurant.” he chuckles. “What about you?”

“I saw a puppy with the fluffiest fur the other day while taking the recycling out.” You grin. “Which reminds me, can we please get a dog?” you frown.

He laughs, deep voice rummaging through your ears. “Maybe.”

Bringing his head back to tuck into your chest, he holds you tighter again, latching on as you hold him, soothingly rubbing his back and arms. You continue to press kisses wherever you can, letting him know you’re close.

You never let him forget the feeling of being touched, with all the love you can offer. All the love he deserves.

“I love you.” You whisper, every now and then, barely audible as you’re holding each other, relaxed and gratified.

A few moments later, Keanu pulls back, moving up slightly, leaning his head on his elbow as he faces you. His lips harbour the most contagiously exquisite smile.

“What’s something you’ve dreamed of doing, but haven’t?” he asks, peering down at you. He brings a hand to lace with yours, your fingers fiddling together.

You ponder for a moment, “I’ve always wanted to make something creative. Like, direct, or organize?” you answer, shifting so you can lean your head on one of your arms, as the other holds his hand.

“Why haven’t you yet, angel?” he frowns.

“Fear of failure, I guess. I just need an idea I’m really confident in.”

He brings your hand up to place a kiss to your palm. “Anything you’ll make is amazing.”

You grin at him, and at how romantic he’s being. This man really had your entire heart.

“What’s your favourite memory we’ve shared together?” you probe, leaning your hand on your chin now, staring up at him, gently stroking his hand with your thumb. He chuckles, before tapping his chin.

“We’ve shared so many, how do you expect me to choose?” he debates.

“There’s got to be something that stands out! Are you trying to say I’m not memorable?” you gasp playfully.

He cups your cheek, gently stroking his thumb under your eye. “You’re the most memorable thing I have.”

He really meant that, and you know it.

“I think it would have to be that day, a few months into when we were first dating. I took you on a drive along the coast, we stopped at that cliff overlooking the city. On the way back, it got dark, and you fell asleep holding my hand. I tried avoiding every single pothole and bump so you wouldn’t wake up.” He shakes his head, his dark brown hair falling in his face.

“Baby, you did that? You never told me that before.” You giggle, tapping his nose.

“Yeah, you looked so peaceful. So fucking perfect. I kept glancing over every few moments to make sure you were okay.” He kisses your forehead. “There was this stray hair that kept falling in your eye, so I’d have to keep moving my hand to move it away, and then bring my hand down to hold yours again, so it wouldn’t get cold.” He smiled, reminiscing.

You beam at the way he’s speaking, recalling every detail. Your heart was fluttering, feeling yourself fall deeper in love with him, if that was even possible.

He lays back down again, head against the pillows, pulling you into his chest, so he’s now the bigger spoon. Wrapping both arms around you, he ponders.

“What qualities made me special to you?” he asks, curious. He often thought about how exceptionally perfect you were; you were definitely the woman of his dreams. He had trouble seeing why you chose him, sometimes.

You place a kiss to his chest, hugging him tighter.

“There’s so, so many, Ke. I love how caring you are; how respectful you are to every single person around you. How thoughtful you are, considerate. I love how passionate you are of your work, how determined, enthusiastic you are. I love the way you take care of me. The way you kill spiders for me, the way you make my morning coffee perfect each and every time. The way you let me have the less scary side of the bed.” You giggle. “I love how much you love me, and never let me forget it.” You say genuinely, moving your gaze up to look at him, adoringly, your fingers gently grazing his chest.

With his cheeks blushed a tinge of peach, he smiles down at you, lovingly. You’d remind him how much he meant to you, each second of every day if you could.

“Okay, I have one for you. What were you thinking of on our first date?” you giggle, proposing. Positioning your head back on his chest, an arm drapes over him again, hugging into him, the beat of his heart, rise and fall of his chest under you, reminding you that he was real; not just a dream.

A wonderful, magnificent dream.

With a chuckle, he sighs. “Definitely praying that you were just as affected by me as I was by you. I think my breath really hitched when I picked you up from that apartment you lived in by the farmer’s market.” He laughs. “You didn’t know I brought my bike, and the look you gave me, it was priceless, sweetheart.” He leans down to place a kiss in your hair, recollecting.

You gasp in memory. “I remember that! You asked me to hold onto you while we drove, pretty sure my heart fluttered at the thought of touching you.” You giggle. “Not much has changed, huh.” You smile at the way you’re doing just that now, limbs tangled, completely connected physically, & emotionally, holding each other.

“That was a pretty great day.” He shifts slightly under you, to allow his hand to how hold yours as it rests on his chest. “Hey, what would be your perfect day?” he asks, enquiring.

Furrowing your brows, biting your lip in thought, you finally speak.

“Hmm…okay. I’d… – sorry, we’d sleep in until at least 9:30am. I wouldn’t let you leave the bed before me because you know how I feel about losing your body heat.” You laugh. “Then, we would take our dog on a walk, who by the way, I’m still patiently waiting for you to gift me. Then, we’d have our morning coffee outside on the patio, overlooking the city. Maybe later I’d go to brunch with some friends, perhaps go to the library downtown…oh! A concert later in the evening would be cool. Maybe dinner by the beach with all our friends? Oh! I’d definitely go to that cute artisan bakery by the park.” You ramble. “What about you, baby?”

“Hmm...” he rubs his hand up and down your arm softly. “We’d sleep in, have some killer morning sex. Twice.” He looks down to see you playfully roll your eyes. He’s moving his spare hand out in front of him, waving away as he normally does when he speaks about things that interest him.

A quality so uniquely him.

“Then, we’d have breakfast and go for a motorcycle ride, maybe go for a swim, have more sex,” you cut him off.

“More? Didn’t we just go twice in the morning?” you huff, staring up at him.

“This is *my* perfect day, miss.” He jokes.

You raise your hands up in defeat. “Okay, okay. Go on.” You giggle and return your arms to his embrace.

“Then, we’d go to the movies. Maybe out to the bar later with friends, come back home, have more sex, do some reading outside by the pool, go out for an evening meal, come back home and have more sex,” you cut him off again.

“Okay, okay, I get the point.” You giggle, kissing his chest again.

“Five times in a day, Ke? Seriously?” you chuckle.

“Can’t help it when my wife is so beautiful.” He smiles. “There’s nothing I love more than making love to you, darling.”

Grinning, your hands fiddle together once again, fingers gently lacing each other, soothingly grazing over each others palms. The dainty room fills with stillness once again, for a few moments.

Closing your eyes, you focus your attention on the feel of his steady breathing chest underneath your head, the warmth of his body engulfing you, the scent of a cigarette smoked not long ago, spiked with the scent of his woody cologne enticing your senses.

Grasping his much larger hand in yours both of yours, you place a kiss to each one of his fingers, so softly, tenderly.

Bringing your hand up, you gently scratch his beard, your touch brimming with affection. As your head stays placed on his chest, with your hand stroking through his hair calmly, gently tracing the bumps of his face, you ask into the dimly lit room, voice discreet, softer than a flowing feather.

“Ke, were you in love before me?” you wonder. The ticking of the clock seems to get louder, filling the tranquillity of the four walls.

He takes in a deep breath, before responding.

“Not like this.”

Placing another kiss to your hair, he continues to hold you tight to his chest, almost shielding you away from any harm. The way he’d always protect you.

“I’ve never loved this strong in my entire life. I can’t see a life without you in it. And I’m not scared of how much I love you. I just know, that you are everything. & I know, that what we have, what we’ve made, is the most important thing I have.”

Feeling tears brim ever so slightly in your orbs, you exhale, in complete contentment. You knew each word leaving his mouth was coming from the bottom of his heart, because he’d never failed to show you. For you, each word meant complete certainty, unquestionably.

How, did you ever get so lucky to find someone who loves you so entirely, so unconditionally?

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you shift your weight onto your elbow, leaning up to stare him right into his chocolate eyes, perfectly glistening, so beautifully. There’s a gratified smile that rests his lips, so completely at ease, a perceptible contrast to the stress that’d worked his features prior.

Cupping his cheek with your palm, your subtle, delicate voice speaks.

“What can I do to show you how much I love you?”

Grasping your wrist, resting his hand over yours that cups his cheek, he stares you right into your eyes, almost as if staring into your soul. “Exactly what you’re doing now. Listening to me, being here with me.”

Leaning in, your lips graze his, connecting in a love drenched kiss, his thumb coaxes the soft skin under your eye, pouring a wealth of adoration, respect, fondness, all things good, everything he wanted to give to you, into your rosy lips.

“You mean everything to me, too.” You whisper, into his neck, as he pulls you back in, resting his chin on top of your head.

In this moment, so pure, as a fresh rainfall after a sandy drought, worry ceases to exist.

As the bedside lamp glimmers, emitting a glowy hue of gold into each corner of the serene room,

the thought of spring cherry blossoms fills your head again.

The way they’d bloom once more, in the warmth. The way they’d return, greeting the new, sweet, honeyed spring, returning to the front yard garden, to the familiarity of being back home, exactly where they’d belonged all along.

The heavenly sky and whispy clouds would wave hello to them, the breezy air would embrace them, the graceful rainfall would kiss them, the silky grass would welcome them. Because all things bloom, in the most natural form of love.

Snuggled tight to your lover, the man who owned each drop of love you had to offer, you hug him closer, keen to feel his skin in closest proximity.

Feeling his lips on your forehead, you daze off into a deep, restful sleep, in the arms,

of the one,

who mattered most.

*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*

Taglist Posted Separately (Ask to be added or removed!) :

#keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves x you #keanu reeves oneshot #keanu reeves fanfic #keanu reeves imagine

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amydancepants-peralta · 4 years

Note

6 & 77, if you can please 🥰💕

Okay hi @jacobperaltaz! I’m very sorry this is so late … but I think my mind went into self-isolation for a bit there. I hope the length of this makes up for my tardiness 😬

(big thank yous to @amyscascadingtabs, @fezzle and @b99peraltiago for all your help with this! It takes a village! 💕)

(6: I love you & 77: Fuck, I have to be drunk to deal with you.)

the nine stages of a pregnant Amy Santiago

The level of tiredness that Jake Peralta feels tonight seeps all the way through to his bones, his eyelids held open by imaginary toothpicks as he rocks back and forth, soothing his son back to sleep with the steady rhythm.

It was only four weeks ago that, in what seemed like a mili-second but in actuality had stretched on for hours, Amy had given birth to their son. And there have been many, many great moments in Jake’s life, but standing in a hospital room, gripping his wife’s hand as they both heard their son cry for the first time, will forever and always hold the top spot in his heart.

The transition to home life had been challenging, like all life with a newborn is, and when baby Leo had let out his trademark cry half an hour ago Amy had groaned from her position next to Jake, legs clearly feeling heavier than cement as she attempted to raise herself out of bed. But Jake had recognised this particular cry as the ‘my diaper is no longer clean and I demand a replacement’ cry, and had mumbled to his wife that it was his turn before stumbling towards the nursery like a half-awake zombie.

(Truthfully, as far as Jake was concerned; any late night call that didn’t involve the boob needed to be his turn. He and Amy, after all, were in this together - no matter what.)

Jake had changed the dirty diaper like the pro he’d become long before Amy had even given birth (turns out there were some advantages to having a Type A, over-preparing wife); and after lifting his son back into his arms and breathing in that incredibly addictive ‘new baby’ smell, he had started walking around the room, taking in all of the photographs and keepsakes that made it all so tastefully decorated.

Stopping by the changing table and picking up a framed photo of a selfie he and Amy had taken on their honeymoon, Jake twists to show the photograph to his son, pretending that even though his eyes are almost all the way closed, Leo can somehow still see what’s being held in front of him. “This is your mama, baby boy. She is literally the greatest person you’ll ever know, and you may not realise this just yet, but you have totally hit the jackpot by having her as your mother. Just like I did all those years ago, when she shook my hand for the very first time. I didn’t recognise the sparks until much later, but I’ve felt them every day since.”

From his warm and snuggly position within the crook of Jake’s arm, Leo lets out a tiny sniffle as fatigue begins to overtake his tiny body, and Jake’s heart squeezes at the sheer sweetness of the sight. Settling in to the upholstered rocking chair that had been a gift from Amy’s parents, Jake uses his socked feet as leverage against the hardwood floor, moving the chair to replicate the same rhythm as before while he watches his son fall asleep in his arms.

The world could take away all of the arrests he’s made, wipe out all of the cases he’s solved; and Jake wouldn’t care one bit. This bundle of perfection right here, is the greatest thing he’s ever done.

The Peralta curse didn’t stand a chance of survival in this home.

“You, me and Mommy, bubba. We make a dream team,” he whispers, glancing over at the baby monitor quickly to make sure his voice hasn’t woken his sleeping wife. He can hear the gentle snores that only come out when Amy is really tired (the same ones that she is ADAMANT don’t happen, ever), and smiles in silent victory before turning his attention back to his now sleeping son. The frame that Jake had just held in his hands is still resting along the edge of the table, and he takes in he and Amy’s happy, relaxed faces - a picture of total contentment after spending an entire day on a white sandy beach with absolutely no interruptions from their captain.

Despite everything that they’d been through together, Amy Santiago still manages to amaze him every day - and watching her transform her body for nine months, purely to create a safe growing space for their child, only made Jake fall in love with her all the more.

Especially because - much like her drinking scale - each month had brought about a new, different version of Amy. And though she may not be in the right frame of mind for Jake to tell her all about it just yet, he lets the memory of it all wash over him as his son sleeps happily in his arms.

Month One - Emotional Amy

It all begins on one seemingly innocent evening, as Jake walks back into the living room after calling his mother. From his path, he can see Amy’s shoulders are bouncing with the steady movements that he knows only belong to those all-consuming sobs that happen so rarely, but were truly the worst thing in the world for him to see.

With his phone landing on a spare pillow as he casts it aside, Jake makes his way towards his wife, enveloping her in his arms without a second thought as he presses gentle kisses against her hairline.

His shirt is soaked through to the shoulder within seconds, and after a long few minutes the shuddering begins to slow. Having spent the last few moments casing the scene in front of him, desperate to find the cause for such devastation (and frustratingly, coming up empty), Jake casts careful eyes towards Amy, raising his eyebrows in silent query.

Wiping her hand along the bottom of her nose, Amy rolls her eyes in mock amusement. “Ugh, I don’t even know where that came from.”

Jake’s eyes flit towards the TV screen, ignoring the advertisement for life insurance as he turns his attention back to Amy. “Honestly babe, I have no idea either.” He waits for a moment, listening as her breath begins to return to normal before continuing. “Wanna talk about it?”

She shrugs, mirroring Jake’s quick glance at the TV before shifting her position, resting her head against her husband’s chest instead. “It was nothing, really. Just some dumb ad.”

Ahh. Nodding, Jake wraps one arm around Amy’s waist, letting his fingers splay out along her side. “Was it the bank one again?”

Amy shakes her head, burrows in a little further.

“The broken coffee machine that reunites the long-lost friends?”

Another shake.

“Ohhh, it’s gotta be the detergent one then, right?!”

Letting out a heavy sigh, Amy looks up at Jake, resting her chin against his chest. “It wasn’t any of them. I can’t even … you’ll just have to wait and see it, babe.” Her head drops down again, one hand reaching underneath to grip Jake a little tighter from her position. “Just stick around, okay?”

“I’m not going anywhere, Ames.”

It only takes one and a half more ad breaks before the offender returns, in all it’s tear-jerking glory: the Chevrolet Equinox - packed in with an all time high towing capacity.

Jake feels the deep breath run through Amy’s chest as the thick wheels sling mud across the screen, a supposedly tough voice muttering it’s way through specifications that Jake truly has never really understood as his attention turns towards his wife, all the tell-tale signs of a imminent crying session flashing bright and loud. In confusion, he blinks back towards the screen, making sure that he is, in fact, still watching an overpriced advertisement … for a CAR … before turning back to Amy, his arms instinctively wrapping around her as the tears begin to fall.

“I mean, they must have just worked so hard on that car … and look at it, it’s so … so … strong!” Sighing, Amy rests her head against Jake’s shoulder, nestling in for the long haul. “An all-time high. Their parents must be SO proud.”

Nodding, Jake runs his hands back up and down Amy’s back, temporarily unable to speak as the price of the car flashes up on the screen before merging into an ad for Cheerios. Briefly, he remembers to add cereal to the shopping list, then glances down at his desolate wife.

They’ve been together for so long by now that the notion of Amy crying at a commercial was not a new one - but an ad that doesn’t even have a tugging at the heartstrings kind of moment? Rather, was chockfull of unnecessary testosterone and way-too-shiny-to-be-realistic vehicles? That was entirely new territory.

Her eyes are relatively dry by now, and she’s humming along to an ad for jelly, but Jake still doesn’t understand what just happened. Cars aren’t designed to break people’s hearts (and okay, maybe coffee machines and detergents weren’t supposed to either, but you can see the angle they’re going for). And then, with a glance to the right, he picks up on the packet of hormone tablets still resting on the kitchen bench after Amy had taken one right before dinner.

Smooth solve, Detective. Amy had mentioned there may be side effects, and really Jake had just nodded when she’d said it, because honestly after the plethora of pellets that the two of them had digested during all those months of trying, side effects no longer seemed to concern him.

Perhaps, these reactions were going to be slightly more noticeable than the others. (Although, just quietly, he does miss how soft his hair felt during those months. If only he could figure out which of the 389 different tablets had been the cause.)

Amy looks up at Jake with a grin as the opening credits to Property Brothers begin, and without hesitation he leans down to place a quick kiss against her lips. She was making her body jump through so many hoops; all in the hopes of being able to start a family with him, and there really won’t ever be a way for Jake to describe just how thankful he is that somebody like Amy Santiago could fall in love with him. He’d do whatever he could to make her happy, and consoling her through a few extra tears seems like the least of the world’s problems.

She sighs against his lips, pushing up slightly for another kiss and smiling, resting her head against Jake’s chest entirely as the episode begins. It’s turning into a night just like all the others, and he could have a thousand more and still never get enough.

And so with the coming weeks, Amy cries. When Jake notices they’re nearly out of butter, and buys two extra from the store because they’re on sale. When he pulls an extra blanket over to the couch, before she’s even sat down. She cries when one of her newer officers hands in an arrest report, and it’s so neat and so thorough that she’s able to approve and pass it on to Holt without any need for corrections; and cries when the local fruit shop has avocados on sale.

There are times when Jake wonders if maybe they should speak to their doctor, but then he reasons that if Amy isn’t concerned, then he shouldn’t be. And a few weeks later, when she holds up a positive test and beams at him like the brightest sunshine in all the world, things finally begin to make a little more sense.

Month Two - Always Hot Amy

There is absolutely no secret to the fact that Jake considers Amy to be the single most hottest woman he’s ever met. Holding the ability to turn him on with a simple flick of a button, Jake has long since been an admirer (and frequent worshipper) at the Altar of Amy.

But five weeks in to what they eventually discover to be her pregnancy, Amy’s hotness level have skyrocketed to a record-breaking high - literally becoming the Hottest Woman in the World: Ultra Sweaty Edition.

“Uhh … babe?” Jake begins hesitantly.

“Yeah?”

“So I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, because I am absolutely a fan of what you are wearing, but … how are you not freezing right now??”

Amy looks over at Jake, furrowing her brow as she glances down at her current outfit of just her underwear and Jake’s favourite blue hoodie. Shrugging, she looks over at her husband, seemingly noticing for the first time that he’s covered head to toe in socks, jeans, sweater and a beanie. “Wait. Are you cold, babe?”

Chuckling, Jake reaches out a hand towards Amy as she walks towards him, taking in the slight sheen of her perspiring skin and tucking it away for future reference (honestly, it’s a testament to her power, that even covered in sweat Jake still finds Amy beyond attractive). “I mean, you’ve cranked the air-conditioning into Antarctica Mode, so … yeah, a little.”

Her fingers slide against his skin, toying with his wedding band before dipping beneath the sweater to touch his back, and oh she’s warm, so very warm. He sighs, and she smiles, and there really can’t ever be a doubt that Amy Santiago is just … everything.

Pushing herself onto her tippy toes, Amy juts her chin forward in a silent request for a kiss, and it’s a demand that Jake is only too happy to oblige. “I’m sorry babe,” she mumbles against his lips, impossibly warm hands scaling slowly up to the centre of his spine. “We can turn it back up. I’m pretty sure I’ve still got some sponges in the cupboard somewhere from last time. Those things were surprisingly absorbent.”

Shaking his head, Jake wraps his hands around Amy’s waist, smiling as she jumps from the cool touch of his still kind-of-freezing hands. “No way, Ames. There’s a teeny tiny version of the two of us growing in there, and we need to make sure they stay nice and warm.”

Her teeth bite into her lower lip slightly, bridling the same excitement that washes over her face whenever Jake mentions the fact that they were most definitely having a baby. It’s the same giddiness that bubbles up inside his stomach at the thought, and there are days when the anticipation of it all is just too much.

Amy’s palms flatten against his back, and she presses herself against him in a move that they both know is going to end well. “I guess that just means that I’m going to have to find ways to warm you up then, detective.“

In a few weeks time, when she’s finished compiling the First Trimester Pregnancy Binder and researching the heck out of the remaining two, Amy will come to understand that it’s an elevation of her hormone levels and an increase in her metabolism that had brought on the sudden need to perspire with every passing minute. She still steals her husband’s hoodies - because within the four walls of their apartment, all of Jake’s jackets belong to Amy - and on her days off he will often come home and find her wrapped up in that and little else. It may or may not become his favourite sight to come home to (soon to be taken over by the sight of her cuddling their son, and then playing with their toddler while she struggles with the growing bump of baby number two … the list goes on, but you get what he means).

In the meantime, Jake perseveres by jumping at any chance to duck down to their local bodega - if for no other reason than to thaw out for a minute - and slowly Amy’s body learns to adjust to the changes without perspiration.

And then, the morning sickness comes.

Month Three - Life Kinda Sucks RN Amy

Month Three almost hits them like clockwork, waking Amy up early one morning with the overwhelming need to vomit and giving her mere seconds to react before it will be too late.

By day six, they’ve got the routine down pat: Amy makes a run for it as soon as the nausea hits, and Jake heads into the kitchen for a cool glass of water; resting it on the counter next to the sink before settling in beside Amy to rub her back in the way he knows she loves. Her toothbrush is forever at the ready, and on their days off Jake will run a bath while she brushes, using the camomile scented bath bombs that his wife has always loved until one day the scent begins to turn her stomach all over again.

Each day from then on becomes a process of discovery, each playing the game of Whats Going To Make Amy Throw Up Today, in which neither of them are ever really winners.

It takes them several trials, but eventually they figure out a safe routine for their drive to work each morning - Amy in the passenger seat with the window cracked open at exactly 23%, the radio set on low volume to her favourite NPR station and her hand resting against Jake’s leg as he drives 7 miles below the limit. Her hand squeezes his knee every time he shifts to hit the brake, and he grips it right back once the car is parked and they slowly walk into the precinct.

She keeps up appearances, refusing to be considered as anything less than an asset to the workplace, but in both her and Jake’s desk drawers there are an endless supply of Saltine crackers - one of the few things that her morning-sickness-ravaged stomach seems to be able to keep down. She learns to avoid the area surrounding Boyle’s desk at all costs, and to take the stairs whenever possible because the dipping motion of the elevator coming to a stop makes her stomach feel as though it is literally turning inside out.

Her body is starting to give away the signs of a life growing inside her, and so Amy starts carrying boxes everywhere and choosing larger-than-necessary outfits, all in an attempt to conceal what must be so obvious to the rest of the office. And even though the urge to burst out the good news every single time they walk into the bullpen, the fear of something going wrong is just too strong, and so they wait.

(And pretend it’s totally normal for Amy to be running to the ladies room multiple times for the first three hours of every day. Or for Jake to check up on his wife at increasingly regular intervals.)

(Okay, maybe the second one is actually completely normal.)

Within the secured familiarity of their home, Amy falls apart every afternoon, pointing out just how tired and frumpy and over it she is, knowing that she can complain to Jake without ever feeling judged. She loves being pregnant - and genuinely cannot wait to meet their little one - but right now, with the constant dizziness and the need to pee every other damn minute, it’s hard to feel anything but BLAH.

And every afternoon without fail, Jake takes Amy into his arms, absorbing all of her frustrations and giving her nothing but support in return. Sometimes they go for walks around the neighbourhood - sharing secret glances of elation every time they pass another couple with a baby in a stroller - and sometimes, he sets up the living room with a pile of blankets and a list of documentaries, all of which Amy has been dying to see (and maybe there will be a sneaky action movie thrown in, just to spice things up).

He holds her through the night when she needs it, and in the morning he’s by her side once again, holding back the hair that escaped her messy ponytail. They were in this together, and though temporary, moments like these never seem so terrible when you share them with the one you love.

Even when the one you love suddenly has unquenchable cravings for sour gummies mixed into yoghurt with granola on top. Or - and this is the truly strange one - for VEGETABLES.

Month Four - Life is AMAZING Amy

Jake’s fingers toy with the peeling edges of the sticker on his bottle of Heisler, laughing at Gina’s anecdotes as she finishes up a story about spending an afternoon with one of her fans. The squad had gathered at Shaw’s tonight to celebrate Terry’s birthday, and it was turning out to be a pretty great night - if for no other reason than how glowing Amy looks as she chats with Boyle a few metres away.

By the grace of all that is good, the morning sickness seems to have finally held itself at bay, and if the adorable little shimmy that his wife made when she slipped into her new floral dress earlier tonight is anything to go by, Amy was finally starting to feel a lot more human.

Lifting the bottle up to take a quick sip, Jake savours the taste as it lingers on his tongue. He hadn’t done much drinking in the last few months (because if Amy can’t drink, then he can’t drink, hashtag SOLIDARITY), but Amy had encouraged him tonight, buying the first round as she reminded him that the more you drink, the more I can kiss off your lips later - and honestly, Jake’s never taken a draft as quickly as he did at when she handed him a bottle. Truth be told, he didn’t intend on drinking a lot - he and Amy had an ultrasound appointment booked for mid tomorrow morning, and the anticipation of getting another glimpse of their baby was far more appealing than any drunken adventure could ever be.

His attention turns back to Amy - because in all honesty its never too far away from being on her anyway - and when she laughs at something Charles says he cannot help but replicate her grin with his own.

The redhead across from Jake clears her throat loudly, far too pointed for it to be anything but a deliberate protest, and he grins sheepishly. “Sorry, G.”

With a roll of her eyes, Gina tips her almost empty glass towards Amy. “Don’t get me wrong, boo. It’s great that you’re having a mini pantsuit-wearing baby with your wife, but you two are still so loved up it’s almost sickening.”

The sheepish grin turns smug, but he doesn’t care. He and Amy are all loved up, and it’s ridiculous and stupid but also the happiest he’s been. They’re creating a family, of their very own, and life is awesome. He looks back over at Amy, catching her eye this time, and she grins when he winks. The nights have gotten cooler, and he’s discovered that the feeling of falling asleep with a (sometimes naked!) Amy snuggled into him, the bump of their tiny but growing baby pressing up against his back, is truly the greatest thing. Even more so, when he relinquishes the Little Spoon role and wraps Amy up into his arms, leaving his palm flat against her stomach so that he can hug their future child just as much.

(Seriously, if anybody had ever thought to tell him how great it is to be the Big Spoon in that situation, he would have put his hand up on Day One.)

Gina clears her throat again, and Jake shrugs. “I know. It’s a little much. But … this right here is proof that not all Peralta’s are lost causes, Gina. And you’re wrong about the pantsuit wearing, by the way. Our baby is clearly going to be a mini McClane slash Harry Potter … or Hermione, depending on how things go.” He drains the bottle, letting it hit the table with a heavy thud. “Point is, baby Peralta-Santiago could be a nerd or a badass or both, and it will still be super-mega-loved.”

His friend is in the middle of replying, “Plus, Iggy will always be an option for cool lessons” when Jake notices that Amy is now within hearing range, and walking towards him with a giant smile on her face. Shuffling over slightly to give her a space to sit, Jake lifts his head slightly to receive Amy’s welcoming kiss as she leans across the table.

“You’re totally right, babe. Our baby is going to be a nerdy badass. And I think that’s awesome.” Her warm eyes slide over to Linetti. “Hey, Gina. Saw you sitting here with my handsome husband and thought I’d come say hi.”

Gina nods, and Amy looks over at Jake, biting her lower lip softly, holding back an even wider smile. “And, to tell this guy that I love him.” Reaching out, she ruffles his hair, and Jake can feel the blush rising in his cheeks.

“Amy’s body seems to be producing a lot of ‘affirmation stylez’ hormones lately,” he explains in way of apology, and Gina nods warily.

“It sure is! And it’s amazing. My skin is all glowy, I’m not vomiting every hour, AND I’m having a baby with the love of my life. What’s not to be happy about?!”

“Ugh.” Turning her attention towards Boyle as he passes by, Gina shouts out - “Charles! Whiskey!” Before swivelling back to the couple. “Sorry. But you guys are just … I have to be drunk to deal with you.”

Amy chuckles, leaning forward so that she can rest her elbows on the surprisingly un-sticky table. “Whatever, Gina. You can act all tough and put on that snarky exterior all you like, but you forget that I know you. You love me. And guess what? I love you as well.” The chuckle turns into laughter as the redhead’s face morphs into one of horror, reaching out to rest her hand on the table between them. “I do. You’ve been there for Jake so many times there’s no way either of you could count it all. Through thick and thin, you created a safe space for this amazing person to turn into the man he is today, and I thank you, Gina. Truly. Life can be crazy, but it can also be so magical, and I love you.”

Amy leans back, resting against Jake’s right side as he throws his arms around her shoulders. “And you know you love me, too. It’s okay if you don’t want to say it. I’ve got enough serotonin running through my body right now to say it for both of us. I love you, you love me, and we both love this guy right here.”

The roll of Gina’s eyes is small, but goes unnoticed as a gentle blush washes over her cheeks. She clears her throat in an effort to break through the emotionally charged moment, muttering “Okay, let’s not go turning ourselves into purple dinosaurs or anything,” as she squirms in her seat. Amy grins at her obvious discomfort, too high on the excitement of finding out the sex of her baby soon to be concerned with anything else.

“Gina! My former lover and former sister. I have an important task, and you’re the only one I can trust with it.” Charles interrupts, placing a new glass of whiskey on the table as he stands next to the booth. “Come, help me get my picture taken.”

Straightening her back Gina scans the interior of the bar, eyebrows knitting when she doesn’t recognise any faces. “Why, is there someone famous here? Is it Beyoncé? Charles, are you telling me Beyoncé is here?”

Cocking his head to the side, Charles mirrors Gina’s confused expression. “Huh? No, I need a photo taken with Baby Peraltiago in utero! I’ve only gotten ten so far, and it’s not nearly enough for my slideshow!”

Staring for a beat, Gina quickly lifts her glass and downs the entire contents in one gulp. “Ok that’s me out guys. Remember to do your daily Gina-mandments for a rich and fulfilling life. Peace out, G-Hive.”

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Charles flops into the seat that Gina vacated, and in his misery doesn’t notice Amy leaving a quick kiss below Jake’s ear before leaning in to whisper something. She pulls away, locking eyes for a solid minute, and Jake clears his throat before standing. “Yeah, we’re out too, bud. Baby growing and all that. Night!”

Bewildered, Charles glances around the empty booth. “Was it something I said?”

Month Five - Horny Amy

Jake’s favourite of all months, by far. And also, the most exhausting.

But he’s a gentleman, and he’s definitely not going to go into the details.

Yeah. Most definitely his favourite.

Month Six - Señora Santiago

It had been a long day at work, and Jake was beyond tired by the time he finally walked through the door. Despite her ever-growing case of FOMOW, Amy’s shifts had been reduced slightly to allow time for her to rest, and the days moved infinitely slower without her calming presence.

Jake notices her as soon as he walks through the door, spread out on the couch with her feet propped up on a pillow, and he throws her a smile as he slides his jacket off and hangs it on the rack. “Hey, babe. How are you feeling?”

There’s a soft grunt in reply, followed by a mumbled “Un poco cansada .… pero bien.”

Kicking off his shoes near the doorway, Jake’s socked feet pad across the living floor as he makes his way over to his wife. He leans down for a gentle kiss against her forehead, running his thumb along her hairline while she looks up at him with those eyes that he never fails to get lost in (the same eyes that he kinda hopes that his son will grow up with). “Ah, lo siento” is his automatic reply, moving his hand to run along her arm soothingly.

She grabs it before he has a chance to pull away, finely cut fingernails digging into his skin through the fabric as Amy tugs him back towards her. “What was that you just said?”

Jake blinks. “… Lo siento? Oh man, did I say it wrong?”

“No! You said it exactly right. I just … when did you just start speaking Spanish?!”

“Oh, that.”

“YES, oh that!”

His grin is sheepish, and he rubs the back of his neck self-consciously before lifting Amy’s feet, settling onto the couch and returning them to his lap. As his hands begin to rub, he shrugs - “I .. kinda started taking lessons about a year ago, and then life got a little crazy and I forgot to stick with it. After we fell pregnant, it kinda felt like the right thing for me to start learning again.”

Her toes wriggle against his fingers, and Jake breaks his focus, looking up at Amy. “You never told me you started learning before,” she mumbles, a thoughtful look on her face, and Jake finds himself shrugging again.

“I guess … I just wanted to understand what you and your family were talking about whenever you’re all together. It can get a little intense, listening to the words flying about and having literally no idea what the topic is.” Running his thumbs in deep circles across the arch of Amy’s foot, Jake grins as she lets out a sigh. “Plus, I really wanted your parents to think I was good enough for you.”

Amy’s legs tense above Jake’s lap as she pulls them away, and she reaches out a hand for assistance as she attempts to sit up (a simple movement that, with her growing baby bump, was becoming not so simple). She keeps a grip of Jake’s hand, resting his palm against her belly as she reaches up with the other to cup his face. Under his touch, Jake begins to feel the gentle kick as his son moves about freely.

“You feel that, babe?” Amy’s voice is soft, and gentle in its tone, but all Jake can do in reply is a simple nod.

“That right there, is your son, and he loves you so. much. already, it’s ridiculous. He practically does somersaults in my womb every time you enter the room. He adores you, just like I adore you, and you don’t ever need to worry about not being good enough for either of us.”

A lump begins to form in Jake’s throat, memories of conversations with his father about the Peralta Curse still swimming about in his mind. If there was anything that was becoming abundantly clear, it was that no curse could possibly hold strong against the heart of Amy Santiago. HIs voice might be cracking a little when he speaks next, but he honestly doesn’t care. “I love you so much.”

She responds with a kiss, one hand holding him tight to her belly as the other strokes his cheek, and oh, esto es amor.

In the passing weeks, Amy takes to speaking Spanish on a more frequent basis - very aware that their baby boy is able to hear things now, if the multitude of pregnancy books that are stacked up on her and Jake’s besides tables are anything to go by. It’s unmistakeable, the pride that Jake feels whenever he picks up on what his wife is saying; or even plucks up the courage to respond in this once foreign language, and he never thought he’d say this but he genuinely cannot wait until they meet up with Amy’s parents again. They never could have seen this coming.

And then Jake comes home late one night, and finds Amy nestled into the rocking chair that had been a hand-me-down from her brother Matthew, singing to their son so soft, so sweetly that his hearts just about beats right out of his chest.

He walks into the room just as Amy begins the next verse, “Me haces feliz cuando los cielos están gris …” and when she notices him in the room, switches languages with the skill of someone who has been doing it their whole life (and just how one day, someday, their son will). Her voice is softer now, and the look in her eyes pulls Jake in with a single blink. “You’ll never know dear, how much I love you …”

The rest of the song falls away, as he leans in for a kiss - a soft kiss, full of love and hope and promises and wonder. This child of theirs was already so lucky, already so loved.

These next three months are going to be the longest of his life.

Month Seven - Worried Amy

The moment the elevator doors slide open and the bullpen comes into focus, Jake’s eyes scan the room with only one target in mind. It takes him less than three seconds to find her, sitting at his desk in such a familiar way that his heart pangs a little for all the times she sat there and didn’t refer to him as the love of her life.

He can see Amy’s chest rise and fall as she releases the breath she was obviously holding, her relief undeniable as her eyes lock onto his, holding steady as he walks towards her with a careful step.

Today had been just your standard work day, with he and Rosa heading out to Bushwick to follow a lead that had (thankfully) proven to be very successful. And while texts between Jake and Amy had always been a pretty regular occurrence - ramped up, naturally, once they started dating - there had been a steady vibration coming from his jean pocket for the last two hours, and instinctively he knew that there was way more to this than just his wife killing time while on desk duty.

Shooting a glance at Rosa, Jake waits for the detective to nod before making a beeline for his desk. He could tell, now that he was closer, that Amy was showing all the classic signs of Distracted Amy - jiggling knees, chewing on the lower right corner of her lip, and the persistent twirl of her wedding band, round and round. He grabs her wrist gently when he’s close enough, stopping the movement and using his thumb to stroke her soft skin soothingly. “Lock-up?”

Amy nods quickly, her jaw unclenching slightly as she swallows whatever thought she was about to vocalise. She doesn’t even wait the usual thirty-four seconds for Jake to leave before she’s following him into the evidence lock-up, far too distracted by whatever’s on her mind to care about the rest of the bullpen noticing that they’ve walked off together.

“You okay?” Jake asks carefully, wrapping one arm around her shoulders once the lock to the room has been secured, breathing in the familiar coconut scent of Amy’s hair as she falls into his embrace. There’s a nod, felt up against his chest, and then she’s tucking her head down into the juncture of his neck and tightening her grip around his waist tenfold.

“I am now. Just .. can’t turn it off.” Her voice is muffled, but warm against his skin.

“Turn what off, babe?”

There’s a pause, and a heavy sigh. “My mind.”

Jake begins to move his hand slowly up and down Amy’s back, waiting for his wife to continue before speaking. He’s never found a reason to turn off her mind - Amy’s mind is one of his favourite things about her.

After another minute or two, she lifts her head slightly, resting her chin against his chest. “There was a shoot-out in Williamsburg today.”

“Oh yeah?”

Amy nods. “Yeah. And even though I knew you were in Bushwick, and that you were one hundred percent not on the scene, I couldn’t stop feeling terrified that maybe, somehow, you had ended up there.”

“I’m sorry if I didn’t answer your texts right away, babe.”

She shakes her head. “No, you were working a case, I get it. But even after you replied, I started worrying about what would have happened if you had been there, if something had happened to you, and I just …” tucking herself back into Jake’s neck, Amy lets out a choked sob. “Are we crazy, Jake? Is it absolutely insane that we’re bringing a new life into this world that is going to be entirely dependent on us, when there’s always a very good chance that one of us doesn’t come home?”

“Ames, hey … shhh, babe. It’s fine. I’m fine, we’re fine. You don’t need to worry.” Jake can feel the tears threaten to sting his eyes, once again cursing his mother for passing down a tendency for sympathetic crying. “And yeah, maybe we’re a little crazy, but - ”

“And then I was reading a news article about this shark attack in Manhattan, and I started freaking out because … what if we take our son to Coney Island and something like that happens? Or we get into a car accident or something?”

“I mean … do we even know if there are sharks in the water here?”

She sniffs loudly, raising her head to meet Jake’s stare. “26. There are 26 different species in New York waters.”

“Okay, I love that you know that.”

Amy shrugs sheepishly. “I might have looked it up. Which didn’t help at all, really. So then I started worrying about my maternity leave, and if we can really afford for me to be away for so long, and look I know this probably sounds really paranoid but I swear this baby isn’t moving nearly as much as he normally does, and it’s all just kinda freaking me out, Jake!”

“Ames, Ames, Ames … come here, babe. You’ve gotta calm down a little bit, okay?” Amy’s arms don’t wrap around him this time, choosing instead to stay tucked up as she grabs onto the chain that his badge hangs from, holding it close to her own chest. The tears start flowing now, pooling against his work shirt, and Jake’s heart breaks a little at the sight of it. He can feel the fear and worry radiating from every pore on his wife’s body, and it’s worse than he could have possibly imagined.

Slowly, the crying converts to the occasional hiccup, and Jake runs one hand through Amy’s hair, careful to keep the work-appropriate ponytail looking neat and professional. “We’re going to be fine, Ames. And as for the whole shark thing, I’ll have you know that you are looking at someone who very recently did some detective work into a very similar subject.”

Amy wipes her hand under her nose, looking up in confusion. “You did?”

“Oh, absolutely.” Clearing his throat, Jake maintains his gentle grip around Amy’s waist and continues. “I’ll have you know, Ames, that you are more likely to get killed by a cow than a shark. And I don’t know about you, but I have not seen any cows at the beach lately. So we can totally go take our mini-McClane to the beach on weekends.”

“We’re not naming our son after a movie, Jake.”

“No comeback for the cow thing, I see. How’s about another amazing factoid? There are literally more ways to shuffle a deck of cards, then there are atoms on the earth.” Jake pauses, miming an explosion on top of his head before returning his hands to her waist, clearly proud of the facts he’s just recited.

Amy narrows her eyes, cocking her head to one side. “You’ve been reading Buzzfeed articles again, haven’t you?”

“Whaaaaat? No, I’m just really really into cows and atoms, and - okay yes, I might have clicked on a link or two the other day.” He winces. “But .. it was turns out it was all in the aid of helping you calm your nerves! We’re two of the best cops the NYPD has ever seen, Ames. And we’ve had to put up with some pretty crappy circumstances throughout the years. Nothing is going to get to us.”

“But what if …”

Jake shakes his head. “There is a whole shelf of parenthood related books taking pride of place in our reading room, and at least 10 binders that I can think of that are choc-filled to the brim with all of the information anybody could possibly want to know about babies. We are more than prepared, babe. Whatever else comes, we’ll figure it out. We’re a team, and more importantly, we’re a family. And nothing’s going to change that.”

Amy’s eyes grow soft, and she rests her hands on his chest. Briefly, a flashback to a lot of change around here, huh? runs through Jake’s mind, and he smiles at the realisation of just how far they’ve come. His wife’s voice is still heavy with trepidation, but there’s a little less fear in her gaze, and he’s counting that as a win. “You really think so, Jake?”

Unable to resist, Jake leans his head down slightly for a soft kiss, pressing his lips against Amy’s and trying with all his might to chase her worries away. “I do. And as for you, young man -” he begins, sliding his hands from Amy’s waist to rest on either side of her belly. “How about you calm your Mama’s mind and do a little twist, or a kick or something?”

It takes another minute or two, and Jake is just about to ramp up the scalding when he hears Amy’s sharp intake of breath, and only a second later he feels the gentle push of his son’s body against his hand. “That’s more like it,” Amy breathes, busting out a smile that could light up the room.

“Much better,” Jake agrees, crooking his finger underneath Amy’s chin and pulling her forward for another kiss. “We’re going to do this together, babe. You and me. And don’t forget, we’ve got the whole 99 on standby if we ever need assistance. I don’t even need to tell you how quickly Charles would jump into action if we asked.”

Amy grimaces, face brightening as she begins to laugh at the image. “You’re absolutely right. I love you, Jake Peralta.”

“I love you, Amy Santiago.” Dipping his head lower, Jake runs his right hand in a gentle circle against Amy’s belly. “And I love you as well, little Shrek.”

Amy’s body bounces with laughter, and she tugs Jake down for a soft thank you kiss. “You always know the right thing to say, babe. Thank you.”

“It’s both a blessing and a curse. Besides, I think we’re both forgetting the most important detail here.”

“What’s that?”

“We both have Rosa’s number on speed dial. Honestly, I pity whatever we put her up against.”

“Oh, absolutely. Agreed.”

Month Eight - Nesting Amy

It’s the overwhelming smell of Pledge, whacking Jake in the face as he opens their front door, that tells him that once again Amy has not had a relaxing day at home.

There was less than five weeks until their baby’s due date, and at the insistence of both Jake and Holt himself, Amy had been placed on maternity leave, with strict instructions to return only when she has a super-cute adorable baby to show off.

So far, however, Amy has taken her doctor’s directive of ‘bed rest and preparation for your baby’s arrival’, and twisted it into ‘obsessively clean every square inch of your apartment’.

She’s waddling down the hallway of their apartment, arms full of freshly dried laundry, when she notices Jake is finally home. “Hey babe! How was work?”

Leaning over the pile of socks and shirts, Jake plants a chaste kiss against Amy’s lips. There were a million ways to describe work without Amy in the building (boring, long and kinda lonely spring to mind), but right now he’s a little too distracted to give her a more concise answer. “Ah, it was work.”

“Okay?”

Following her through to the kitchen, Jake takes the laundry from Amy’s hands and dumps them on the dining table, sorting the various items into piles just the way she likes. “So,” he begins casually, “how many cans of Pledge did you go through today?”

Amy’s hands freeze mid-air, fingers still stretched out towards a wayward sock, and she glances at Jake out of the corner of her eye. “Ah, just the one.”

“And the rest of the day you totally just relaxed on the couch and caught up with all those shows we never get time to watch, right?”

“Yep. Sure did.”

Jake nods, taking a quick look at their open plan apartment. “Geez, the windows look awfully sparkly today.”

Unable to contain her glee, Amy grins. “I know! I found this amazing glass cleaner that I thought I had run out of. Those are the cleanest windows in New York City, babe. You could practically eat off of them.”

“I’m definitely impressed, Ames. Especially that you did it from your resting position on the couch. Seriously, kudos to you.”

“Ugh. Okay, fine! You busted me. But I can’t help it, babe! Every time I sit down, I see another little speck of dust or I remember just how long it’s been since I’ve cleaned the air-conditioning vents and suddenly three hours have passed by.” Wringing her hands together slightly, she shrugs. “Also, I may have bumped into that lamp we had in the corner and broken it. Or rather, the bump bumped into it. I swear, just when I think I’ve gotten used to how big I’m getting, I grow another inch or seven.”

Jake laughs, placing the last neatly folded shirt onto the pile of all the others. “Hey, that’s my sexy as hell, domestic goddess wife you’re talking about there.“

She grunts, dropping her head down to look at her swollen stomach before looking back up at Jake. “I don’t feel sexy. I feel like a rotisserie chicken.”

“Okay, I’m really going to need you to distract me right now, so that I don’t make a terrible joke about juicy breasts.”

“Jake.”

“Got it. You do not look like a rotisserie chicken, Ames. You look like a beautiful woman, who is eight months pregnant and has spent her entire day cleaning an apartment that was already ridiculously clean.”

“I may have also moved some furniture around,” Amy mumbles, interjecting quickly with a “Light furniture! Just chairs and stuff. Nothing big - well, you’ll see” as she notices the exasperated look on Jake’s face. Oh, how he loves her.

“Ames, obviously I can’t stop you, and there’s no way I’m going to tell you what to do. I just think right now would be the best time to follow your doctor’s orders and rest. In a few weeks time, we’re both going to be rueing the day we had the chance to sleep and didn’t take it.”

Amy nods, coyly raising her eyebrows. “I’ll do you a deal, Peralta. I’ll spend the rest of the evening on the couch, so long as you’ll be my cuddle buddy.”

Grinning, Jake leans into Amy, pressing a miniature kiss against the tip of her nose. “I’ll do you one better, babe. I’ll stay with you on the couch all night tonight and tomorrow night; AND during the day you can put me on cleaning duty for anything that catches your eye, no matter how small.” He winks, continuing. “If you’re lucky, I might even be able to rustle up a French Maid outfit for added effect.”

Amy’s hands come to rest on either side of his face, her touch so amazingly warm that it still makes his heart skip all these years later. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

Month Nine - Surprisingly good at French Amy

“PUTAIN!” Amy cries out, reaching out to grab the edge of Jake’s scrubs as she pulls him closer. “Ça fait tellement mal!”

Wincing, Jake listens to the anguished cries of his wife, reaching one hand towards his collar and gripping her hand in his. With the other, he fumbles for his phone, trying in vain to open the DuoLingo app and figure out just what exactly his wife was saying. Judging from the tone, it wasn’t great - and she had mentioned once or twice that she’d minored in French in college - but he’d never heard such a regular string of completely incomprehensible words fall out of Amy’s mouth.

A clammy hand grips the back of Jake’s neck, and its Amy pulling him forwards, yanking him until their foreheads are touching. “Jake. I can’t do this. I can’t. It hurts too much.”

None of this night was going to plan.

There are laminated copies of Amy’s birthing plan in every possible place - from their house to their car, the top drawers of both her and Jake’s desk, and even a copy with Captain Holt and Lieutenant Jeffords, just in case something should happen to go awry. It was very clear cut in its instructions - single spaced, double sided, Santiago style - and had left no doubt in anyone close to them’s minds exactly what was expected to occur once Amy’s water finally broke.

What all the research and binders and testimonies hadn’t anticipated, and therefore turns out to be exactly what ends up happening, is a city-wide blackout with both Amy and Jake stuck in traffic after pursuing a lead on the other side of town, with absolutely no way out.

It had taken fourteen different phone conversations, the call in on several different favours and one tiny sacrifice to the gods before he and Amy had made it to their hospital, and by the time the nurses wheeled her into the delivery room, it was far too late for Amy to be considered for an epidural. Jake’s heart had broken for her, as she was told the news and an undeniable look of terror ran over her features. Absolutely nothing was going to plan - and while Amy’s water had indeed broken on her due date (Santiago’s are nothing if not punctual, after all) - Jake couldn’t help but feel that everything that had happened since that moment had more to do with the Peralta genes than his wife’s.

But there was a snowball’s chance in hell that Jake was going to let Amy believe she couldn’t do this. She absolutely could. She could do anything. And so he rests his weight against the side of the bed; flitting his eyes over to the clock on the table and calculating that they were probably only another twenty seconds away from another contraction, and crooks his finger into the edge of Amy’s chin, bumping her up slightly to meet his gaze. “Yes you can, Ames. You’re the strongest person I know, and you can do this. I know you can. And I’m going to be right here with you, the whole time.”

Closing her eyes as the wave of another contraction hits, Amy whispers “Merde” before gripping onto Jake’s hand for dear life, fingernails leaving tiny blood-filled crescent moons in his skin when she finally pulls away.

The hands on the clock on the wall have moved significantly by the time Leo Peralta makes his debut, the unmistakeable sound of his cries bouncing off the hospital ward’s walls as he shouts his protest in the sudden change of environment.

Jake’s left hand is completely numb - he’s pretty sure Amy has squeezed all life out of it - but he is filled with total elation and a total adoration for the true warrior that is Amy. He never could have done half of the things she did today, but even now after all of the pain she went through, there is an unbreakable smile on her face as she holds their son in her arms for the very first time.

(He’s also learned four brand new curse words, all of which he never would have expected to come out his gentle natured wife’s mouth, but he also hasn’t just pushed a human being out of his body, so really - who is he to judge?)

Jake rests on the bed next to Amy, leaning over slightly to run a finger along the edge of his son’s mouth in wonder. It is incredible, really - how much he could love somebody so instantly, and so unconditionally. “You did it, Ames. You brought our son into the world.”

Amy smiles, unable to tear her eyes away from the tiny bundle in her arms just yet. “We did it, babe. There’s no way I would have been able to do this without you.”

He presses a kiss to the top of her head in response, and whispers I love you. A moment later, Amy is passing him their son to hold, and it doesn’t seem right how somebody that holds so much weight in Jake’s life could feel so light right now.

“Hey there, little man. Welcome to the family, pal.” He hears a sniff to his left, and turns to see Amy brush a tear away from her cheek.

“My two favourite men in the whole world. I just love you both, so much. So much.”

Jake’s tears begin to fall as well, the overwhelming emotions of the day finally proving too much.

Finally, the child they had been hoping for, for so long, was here.

And finally, they were parents.

“Best day ever.”

***

With slow and careful movements, Jake lowers baby Leo into his crib, hovering over his still sleeping son for a minute to make sure that the movement hasn’t disturbed his sleep. Parenting was hard, and he had suitcases instead of bags building up underneath his eyes, but there was a very small possibility that maybe he was kinda nailing it.

He can feel all of the muscles in his body cry out in relief as he slips under the sheets, melting into the softest mattress he’s ever owned (and truly, a worthy investment in many ways).

Now that he was (thankfully) back in bed, and their apartment was (also thankfully) silent, Jake shifts his position so that he can look over at his sleeping wife. Amy has missed out on more sleep than him by far, and is still recovering from what had happened only a month ago, but still she manages to look so crazily beautiful in her sleep that Jake cannot stop the smile that breaks out over his face.

She has always managed to amaze Jake; and challenge him in ways that he’d never expected, but if there was anything to be taken from the last nine months, it was that there could never be anybody quite like Amy Santiago.

The memories of all that has passed wash over Jake as he reaches out to brush a stray lock of hair away from Amy’s face, and as she lets out a soft sigh in response he shuffles just that little bit closer.

One day, he’ll be able to tell her about all the different Amy’s he met during her pregnancy. But, for now, he’s happy to have it live in his memories.

#just jumping onto Team Leo don’t mind me #this turned out longer than expected #but I really really hope you like it!#b99 fanfic #b99 fic #pregnant peraltiago #jake x amy fic #pls like and reblog to help this smol fish in the giant Tumblr pond #peraltiago fic

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godkilller · 3 years

Text

UKITAKE.

❅ ❅ ❅

Tradition has it that all the captains meet every Monday morning - preferably at 8 - for the captain’s meeting, to update headcaptain Genryuusei Yamamoto and to discuss the latest news. Sometimes captains are missing due to various reasons. They need to head out to fight hollows, some have to try and find their subordinates who got lost somewhere in the world of the living... And some fell ill early on in their childhood and never fully recuperated, which left them no other choice but to stay away from what is considered ‘a captain’s duty’.

One of those - but probably the only one - was Jushiro Ukitake. To stay at home when all the captains met always felt weird to him ever since he was made captain LONG AGO. Sometimes Kyouraku would join him in skipping duty but Yadomaru would find him and drag him to the first squad’s barracks after all. It left a sore wound inside the ill man for centuries but he would never let anyone know ; wouldn’t talk about it. In that sense, he was a true captain, never letting his illness be the reason to mentally succumb to self-pity or even DEPRESSION.

As long as he could sit either on his porch in front of his bonsai garden or take a relaxing walk around his estate in order to get better, he wasn’t complaining. And maybe that rather UNWANTED SPARE TIME and his DECLINING HEALTH were enough reason why, compared to other captains, Ukitake still managed to wear a smile on his face, no matter the situation. Those shinigami who shared a view about the world with Ukitake weren’t usually people his age. He noticed that very early in his adult life. Those who did always kept a bit of childlike demeanour or attitude - much like Shunsui. Ukitake had an easier time talking to and spending time with younger shinigami or trainees at the academy than with fleshed out soul reapers or even captains. He RESPECTED his fellow colleagues but their sternness oftentimes dimmed his mood tremendously. It resulted in him withdrawing more privately and rarely being seen outside his estate on his off days.

Today wasn’t such a day however. He’d told Sentaro to replace him at the captain’s assembly as well as made sure Kiyone and Rukia trained the newbies and taught them about a very special subordinate and lieutenant named Shiba Kaien, while he took a long walk around his estate. By the time the assembly must have taken place for about 40 minutes already, he wondered whether Shunsui would come for tea this afternoon. He stopped, looking at the headquarters plenty of miles away from where he stood, when suddenly a little figure walked around the corner.

“Hm?” He blinked for a moment, recalling the face of the little boy. “Don’t you belong with Aizen and his squad?” he said, wondering what that child was doing on his property. He figured - and everyone else knew it too - that the pathway was a faster shortcut to deliver things than using the usual delivery routes. He wasn’t angry. It was just a child. There was always something ODD about this child, he thought. Maybe it was the relentless GRIN. A grin unlike any he’s EVER seen on a child before. Many times he couldn’t keep from thinking that it was fake. He had a hunch. RUMOR HAD IT that people wouldn’t get much sleep in the 5th and judging by the sight of the little one, Ukitake was CONCERNED. He didn’t look healthy at all. And maybe it was because Ukitake knew how he he looked when he was a child - he was aware of the fact he wasn’t a parent and people told him time and time again to NOT WORRY SO MUCH! Hypochondriac, they called him. But could they really blame him?

“Where’s your captain? Did you get lost? Would you like some tea, maybe?” he smiled gently, offering for the other to join him on his walk back to the entrance of his estate. “Don’t worry, it’s alright. Ichi... maru was it? Correct me if I’m wrong.”

GIN TOOK SHORTCUTS REGULARLY, he zipped through the quieter portions of the Seireitei with every intention to NOT be stopped, seen, or bothered otherwise by any passerby unaccustomed to seeing such a young Shinigami making their rounds. Often, this resulted in him inevitably being asked if he knew where he was going ( which he did, though Gin played into certain instances of this question by pretending to be lost to appear less questionable ) or where his captain was ( HIRAKO SHINJI HAD BEEN REMOVED from his position at the head of the Fifth Division, and AIZEN SOUSUKE now stood as acting captain ) so the question brought something of a difficult answer; truly, tragically so, Gin hadn’t minded Shinji too much.... it was a shame what happened. The loss was fresh; Gin still awoke believing that those echoing screams and Hollowified roars were going off in the cold night, rather than imprinted someplace in the back of his head.

Thus was the fate of anyone who dared to suspect Aizen and possibly even act on it. Urahara Kisuke and his company were all exiled, too, framed. Gin wondered if anyone could manage to take his superior down, or if he truly was all alone.

His flash-step faltered and Gin blurred back into sight at a slowing trot, downtrodden by this particular thought, and for a moment more delaying his inevitable return to his division. AIZEN'S SCHEDULE REQUIRED DILIGENCE in the form of rushing to meet deadlines in order to retain his regularly awarded compliments of ALWAYS having his work completed in a timely manner. Thus, Gin was, on occasion, sent as errand boy. It didn’t happen often; Gin was Third Seat, not necessarily a pawn worth moving for insignificant matters, yet Gin was also one of the two subordinates Aizen kept closer to him that could tackle matters that would be outcried as ... possibly illegal. Gin was currently exhausted from this constant game of catch-up, paying in lost sleep to make up for the fact that their main focuses were split between maintaining the divisions whilst also conducting awful monstrosities into the dead of night.

—— Ah, that voice... he was spotted !

Gin tugged at his left sleeve to ensure his injury’s bandages were obscured, hidden into too-big robes ill fit for a child warrior, and stepped a few paces back whilst turning to face his superior. THESE WERE UKITAKE’S GROUNDS, AFTER ALL, AND GIN HAD BEEN FOOLISH TO BANK ON THE OLDER SHINIGAMI RESTING FOR THE REMAINDER OF THE MORNING. No, the elder was resilient, peaceful, it seemed only right in hindsight that he’d not sulk in bed till midday, at least. GIN SMILED BIG AND WIDE, prepared for the standard comments to be made — as opposed to the others, Ukitake, at the very least, meant well by them.

❝ AH, ‘M SORRY, CAP’N — ❞ Gin called out to the other, projecting his voice with a quip and a grin. ❝ — I’m runnin’ errands, just got done. No cap’n yet, just Lieutenant Aizen ‘n me... am I in trouble ? ❞ The younger paused as Ukitake finished his approach, making a point to be visibly wary of the other’s scrutiny, that scanning gaze no doubt pinpointing Gin’s fatigue, his dark circles beneath squinted eyes and his growling stomach and aching arm making him anxious to leave. Yet, Gin instead used that antsy feeling to further play into his guise of childish submission; as though dreading a lecture, as though perfectly innocent. His smile was, for the most part, mostly refined save for a spare undertone of strain, of utter falseness that hurt his cheeks. ANOTHER ACHE TO BE ADDED TO HIS PILE.

❝ I’m jus’ passin’ through, I’ll be outta your hair... — ... oh, tea ? Not sure, I don’t wanna bother ya. ❞ THAT WAS A TRUTH. Didn’t this man need rest ? Surely he wouldn’t put aside time to be burdened by some random kid coming too close to his fancy palace...

Gin merely nodded at his name, offering no elaboration nor acknowledgement; no first name needed in his book, surely.... HE WAS STILL A RUKONGAI RAT AT HEART, not accustomed to proper greetings, not quite master of a respectful introduction, and certainly not the type to bow down to his superiors after offering his entire title in service, in obedience. NO, GIN WAS STUBBORN. At times, even awkwardly so. The Third Seat idly fumbled with the edge of his left sleeve within his right hand, clutched, toyed with as he considered Ukitake’s offer.

�� ❝ Are you feelin’ any better, cap’n ? I heard y’weren’t at the meetin’ today. ❞ MAYBE A LITTLE TOO FORWARD, TOO, but Gin also abused the blanket of youth upon his shoulders to ask things in a more blunt manner. Hey, at least he was giving the other their proper title before he asked so outright about their health !

continued @cptn13‘s ask here, since Tumblr is weird.

#[ roleplay ] predator; murder on his mind & hymns on his tongue #[ verse: third seat ] and from that mouth that devours i cry out to you #;__;#p-please....these two. my heart.

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misskikuwrites · 4 years

Text

Out in the Open

Bederia Week 2020

Open Prompt

Bede/Gloria (dressedinpinkshipping)

@bede-x-gloria

Bede tugged absently at the fluffy cravat puffing out of his intricate suit, trying desperately to ignore the make-up artist working on his hair. His whole body was as stiff as concrete. His stomach churned sickly with regret as he chided himself silently for accepting Gloria's invitation. Sure, that would have made him the only Gym Leader to decline being a part of the charity photoshoot, but perhaps that would have been better than to be stuffed in a suit that looked a few centuries out of date, to have make-up artists fawn over his soft, pale skin and mess with his hair.

He had half a mind to swat away the hands currently fitting extensions into his hair. He wasn't sure how much more of that he could take when he was finally released from the artist and stood, walking away from the mirror to where Gloria was currently being photographed with Milo. Her long brown hair had been split into two braids, a straw hat on her head. The scene was set up like a farm, Gloria propping a foot on a bale of hay, a pitchfork in her hand. She and Milo wore matching overalls and hats, a Wooloo sleeping at their feet. The thick smell of straw permeated the studio. The camera flashed rapidly, a rally of quick clicks as dozens of photos were snapped every second.

Gloria laughed at something, Milo smiling sheepishly. Bede watched silently from afar as assistants rushed in and out of the scene, shifting things this way and that, directing Gloria and Milo where to stand, where to look. Another round of photos taken, Gloria was ushered away quickly to change behind a screen. She had a different outfit for every photo. Each Gym Leader had a photoshoot with the Champion, which meant Gloria had eight separate outfits to change into. Different hairstyles, different make-up pallets.

Exhaustion began to show in Gloria's smile when she was off the set. Under the lights, in the view of the camera, any hint of fatigue vanished as if a veil had been lifted off her face. Bede didn't know how long she'd been here; he'd rocked up less than an hour ago and she'd been in the middle of a shoot then too.

Bede watched curiously as the farm set transformed into the backdrop of an ocean, a sandy beach forming beneath the blinding lights. Nessa stepped forward, stretching her arms above her head as she took her place. She wore a slim fitting swimsuit reminiscent of her Gym Uniform, the wetsuit-type top revealing her dark, toned midriff, the high cut of her bikini bottoms showing off her long legs. Her hair was pinned up in a neat, stylish bun. Nessa smiled at someone to the side, laughing.

"Come on, you look great!" Nessa called, batting her long eyelashes sweetly. "You don't have to be shy!"

Gloria breathed a tight, nervous laugh as she stepped out. "I don't usually wear such… revealing clothing…"

Bede choked on air. Gloria's outfit perfectly matched Nessa's. A sleeveless wetsuit top that ended above her navel, the zip down the front undone slightly to reveal her collarbones. Her long, slim legs bare to the world. Gloria tugged at the base of her top, attempting to yank it lower. An embarrassed blush coloured her cheeks a delicate pink.

Nessa laughed. "That's not revealing, that's just a swimsuit!"

Gloria absently touched the top of her bun, her hair neatly tied above her head. Loose strands framed her flushed cheeks. She nodded stiffly, shooting a nervous glance around the room before her gaze landed on Bede. She stiffened suddenly, eyes blowing wide. A jolt of heat shot down Bede's spine. He raised a hand in what he hoped was a casual wave, leaning against the wall lest he topple over at the sight of her. Gloria ducked her head, returning his wave with a curt lift of her hand.

Arceus, he hoped he wasn't gawking like a fool at her. He swallowed thickly, folding his arms in an attempt to seem more relaxed.

A quiet laugh sounded next to him and Bede jumped. His heart lodged high in his throat as he turned to see Marnie grinning coyly at him. A sharp, knowing smile on her dark purple lips.

The jolt of shameful embarassment dispersed quickly as Bede blinked at Marnie. She wore a dark purple and black dress with an immense number of frills and layers, ending at her knees. It had long, frilly sleeves and large ribbons, her shoes a similar colour and style. She held a dark parasol in her hands, an innumerable amount of ribbons and lace decorating it. Her hair was curled immaculately, resting gently on her shoulders.

"Too bad you missed our shoot," Marnie said. "You should've seen what Gloria was wearin'."

Bede kept his expression neutral, forcing the embarrassment off his face. "And why would I have cared to see that?"

"Well, since you're here starin' at her with your mouth hangin' open, I thought you'd wanna see the pictures I took of her." Marnie shrugged. "Guess not."

Bede touched his jaw anxiously, making sure that it definitely wasn't hanging open. He could feel the amused look Marnie was giving him. She took out her phone, swiping across the screen.

"Too bad. She's super pretty…"

Bede narrowed his eyes at the back of Marnie's phone. She was baiting him. But… if there really was a picture…

Marnie turned her phone around to show him, a shot of Piers staring back at him. "Gotcha. There's no pic. Not allowed to take 'em."

Bede scowled. "I wasn't interested anyway."

Marnie chuckled quietly again before leaving to change out of her complicated dress. Bede breathed a deep sigh of relief and focused on keeping his expression in check. With the other Gym Leaders wandering around, some getting into their outfits and others ready to leave, Bede couldn't risk being seen staring, gawking, like a lovestruck fool at Gloria. It was bad enough that Hop, Marnie and Ms Opal were well aware of his feelings - at least they had the decency to keep quiet about it. The other Gym Leaders… may not have that kind of tact.

Bede brought out his phone, acting as if he were more interested in his scrolling through his feed than the photoshoot going on in front of him. He kept his looks to short glances, lifting his eyes from his phone for no more than a second or two at a time. He stifled a laugh at the brief look of panic on Gloria's face as she was seated sideways on the back of Nessa's Drednaw, her legs hanging over the side.

It wasn't long until Gloria was ushered away again, the beach disappeared and the interior of a ballroom taking its place. The photographer motioned Bede over and his chest fluttered. He strode over, flexing his clammy hands, and tried to focus on the scene being built, on the instructions of the photographer. They'd gone with a fairytale theme for the Fairy Gym, Bede styled like a prince and Gloria…

Like a princess.

Like something straight out of a picture book, Gloria was mesmerising. Her dress was themed like his suit, a soft, pale pink, flowing graceful from her waist to the floor. The bodice fit to her curves, detailed with intricate lace and threads. Long sleeves fell to her wrists, Gloria nervously playing with them as she approached. She stepped into the light, stepped up beside him, and Bede couldn't breathe.

Her cheeks were dusted a rosy pink, her lips glossy and pert. Her eyelids shimmered and sparkled in the light when she blinked, her eyes lined finely and accentuated. Her hair rolled lusciously over her shoulders in thick curls and when Bede's breath hitched in his throat he smelt peach and vanilla and wondered if that was what her lips would taste like-

Gloria's laugh made him jolt. "I look so strange, don't I? This doesn't suit me at all…!"

Arceus, Bede couldn't answer her. He couldn't admit that she was wrong and gorgeous and breathtaking; she'd stolen his breath and he never wanted to breathe again if it meant this moment would last forever. His mouth dropped open with words he couldn't say.

"Oh, your hair!" Gloria exclaimed. "It's so long!" She peered around him at the extensions running down his neck in a loose ponytail.

"It's rather ridiculous," Bede said, taking the moment to catch his flustering breath.

"I like it! It looks so sophisticated!" She smiled at him, her eyes widened after a moment. "Oh wow, your eyelashes look so long! Did they put make-up on you too?"

Gloria leant in close, standing on her toes and peering into his eyes. Bede stiffened like he'd turned to stone on the spot. The air died in his lungs. She was so close - too close - and all Bede could see was her gorgeous, honey-brown eyes, those glossy lips of hers parted slightly in awe, and he breathed in that heavenly scent again, his eyes fluttering closed in a wave of mortified embarrassment under her intense gaze.

"Alright - places, please!" the photographer called and Gloria stepped away for a moment. A moment of respite that soon shattered. The assistants rushed about, directing Bede and Gloria closer together. She ducked her head shyly as Bede was directed to place one hand around the back of her waist, the other holding hers. Gloria rested her other hand on his shoulder, flushing darkly as they stepped closer together so their chests were almost touching. They were posed to dance. Directed to meet each other's eyes.

It was akin to torture when they were asked to perform a few steps of the dance so that Gloria's dress would sway. Bede could hardly remember to breathe let alone the steps, on not treading on her feet. His hands felt too sweaty, too clammy. All he could see was her; under the blinding lights the rest of the world darkened and it was just her. Just Gloria, just this moment between them. Finally, she managed a smile and Bede's heart swelled. He was filled to the brim with dizzying warmth, captivated by the look in her eyes. He didn't notice that the photos had been taken until the set began to change around them.

The ballroom changed into a gorgeous garden, lush grass rolled out at their feet. They were directed to lie on it, assistants moving around them to fix their hair, Gloria's dress, as Bede lay on his back, Gloria on her side. It was only when Bede was told to look at her did he realise how close they were again. He shifted onto his side, taking her hand that lay between them as directed, and tried to fight the fire burning on his cheeks.

Oh, Arceus. It was impossible. Impossible to keep the adoration from his eyes, the longing pull of his heart from his face. His hand trembled as he cupped hers, threading their fingers together. He saw the slight widening of her eyes, the slight catch of her breath.

He wondered what she saw in his eyes as she studied his gaze. He wondered what it was he saw smouldering behind her dark eyes. The lights warmed her cheeks, the rosy make-up dusted across her cheekbones like a soft blush.

Then, Gloria laughed. A short, sweet sheepish breath of laughter that doused Bede in a sudden wave of calm.

"Sorry," she whispered quickly, laughter making her sound light and airy. "You look like a fairy."

Her comment filled him with warmth. He felt himself smile. "And you look like a silly woman who thought it was a good idea to dance with said fairy."

She giggled and Bede melted. His gaze melted and softened and he succumbed to this moment that would never come again. He let himself smile, gave in to his heart, the yearning ache in his chests, and melted for her.

It was over too soon, the garden disappearing around them as they sat up. Bede brushed a lock of hair off his face, breathing a quick sigh as he looked away from Gloria. His face burned, ached from his blush and the smile he'd worn.

"Um… Bede?" Gloria asked quietly, and Bede looked at her to find she was looking at the ground between them. "You're… still holding my hand."

Bede shot his eyes to their hands, fingers still entwined, and stole his hand away with a start. Fire erupted in his lungs.

"S-Sorry," he apologized quickly, clearing his throat when his voice cracked. He stood up stiffly, flexing his fingers at his sides. He ducked his head with a shameful flush and left to change out of his outfit. He couldn't look at her.

He could still feel the touch of her hand in his.

Bede could have died in mortification when the prints were released. As one of the models, Bede got a complementary set of pictures from his shoot for free, and decided to look at them in the privacy of his room where he didn't have to worry about prying eyes and knowing smiles.

A wildfire of heat, of scorching flames and dizzying warmth, spread through every inch of his body as he laid the prints out on his bed. Out there in the open, in every single shot, was the obvious adoration in Bede's eyes. His smile was soft, softer than he'd ever seen or realised, captured for all eternity and glaring back at him. A soft flush of pink coloured his cheeks in the photos.

Bede could have died then and there, but decided to focus instead on Gloria and not the lovestruck longing in his eyes and a different kind of heat washed over him. A flutter started in his belly, rising into his lungs until he could hardly breathe.

A dazzling light shined in Gloria's eyes. Her smile was bright and free and full of life. Her eyes crinkled in that adorable way they did sometimes. She smiled as they danced, as they lay on the lush grass together. As he smiled that soft, longing smile at her.

Bede swallowed an incoherent scream in his throat, cupping his face in his hands. He smouldered with heat right to the very tips of his ears.

Arceus. How could participating in the photoshoot be such a good and bad idea simultaneously?

He had these pictures to himself, a memory of those breathtaking moments, but also knew that these very same photos were available for everyone to see and buy.

And Gloria would have seen them too.

Oh, Arceus.

Sweet, holy mother of Arceus.

He didn't know if he could deal with that.

#bederiaweek #bederia #dressedinpinkshipping #bede #gloria #btyu #pokemon swsh

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kyber-kisses · 5 years

Text

Too Soon (part.9)

Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: spoilers for the first 2 episodes of season 15, supernatural level gore, you know the drill

Summary: What if Jack had killed the reader instead of Mary? Finally back in eachothers presence, Dean is set on making sure the reader is ok.

From the second Dean had you wrapped securely in his arms, he knew he never wanted to let go. Afraid that if he did for even a second, you would disappear and this whole thing would just be some kind of fucked up dream that Chuck had given him. But no. that wasn't the case. You were there with them. you were alive. You were breathing.

And he had so many questions.

As for things on your end, you were just happy to be back. It felt like you were finally breathing again around them. Especially when you suddenly found yourself being pulled into a Winchester sandwich. Two solid mountains of muscle hugging you tightly. You didn’t realize how much you had missed these hugs until you found yourself in one. They were warm and safe, just as they always should be.

Needless to say it was very hard to pull away.

The sun was beginning to make its first appearance on the horizon when Sam whipped out his phone to call Cas, informing him that He needed to meet them where you guys were.

The three of you sat in a sort of stunned silence on the sidewalk, you letting them take their time digesting the fact that you were back and among them again. All the while Dean had his fingers wrapped tightly around your own. Every once in awhile you could feel his eyes on you,making you glance up to give him a smile.

“You look like shit.”

Raising your eyebrows, you looked over at Dean again. “I knew it was only a matter of time before you said something.” You quipped, squeezing his hand. You could see worry cross over his features.

“What happened?” The question came out slow, like he was afraid he might trigger something that you didn't want to relive.

Running your tongue over the cut on your lip, you took a deep breath, feeling both Sam and Deans eyes on you. You let your own eyes though, wander to where the sun was creating over the first houses. “Alot. I got jumped by a zombie- then I almost lost a fight to a ghost. . .” You paused, realizing how insane the last 24 hours had been. “And then I jumped out a window.’

Sam spoke up first before his brother could open his mouth. “Yeah, you wanna tell us why you did that?.”

You looked down in embarrassment, toeing at a loose pebble on the road. “ I didn't want you to see me..”

You could tell Dean was making the same confused face before you even looked up at him . “why the hell not? Y/N, we would never hurt you, you know that.” The fear was heavy in his voice as he asked. The last thing he ever wanted was for you to be afraid of him.

“I know!” You stated quickly shaking your head,” god, I know you would never hurt me. . .But I Think I was just afraid of how you would react if you saw me. I didn’t want to scare you away. Or think I was the same breed of monster we hunt all the time.” You lied, knowing full well it was just because of your nerves and what you had heard Dean say.

Luckily the boys ate up your lie. “Why would you ever think that?” Dean questioned in disbelief, eyebrows knitted together. “You are our family. And if you think you could scare us away- well, you dead wrong on that.” He fired back, giving your hand another squeeze.

A ping went off from Sam’s phone, making him tear his eyes away from you. “Cas is on his way with the rest of the gang. Should be here in ten.” He informed you, looking down at his screen and typing out a response.

You could feel the fatigue from lack of sleep settling over you again as you let out a yawn, bringing your head down to rest it on Deans shoulder. You still were still waiting for some much needed sleep, along with some food. You could feel the older Winchester shift to look down at you.

“You need sleep Y/N” Dean began, stating the obvious. He looked down at you, seeing the rise and fall of your chest as you began to drift off. Alive. You were here and alive. The reality still had him stunned. He could tell you were beyond tired by the way your eyes drooped and how you keep letting out soft yawn. He pushed himself up, making you groan and snap back. “But not here. Cmon, let’s at least get you back to Baby. She’s parked a block over.”

Nodding, you mustered up enough strength to leave the cold pavement, automatically yelling at the pain in your foot when you finally got upright. Right. Your ankle.

Moving forward qickly to help support you, Dean gave you another worried look. “I think we need to patch you up first though.” He didn’t even let you protest before he was scooping you up in his arms, beginning his trek down the street, Sam following next to the two of you. “Hopefully that first aid kit is still rolling around somewhere in the back seat.”

When you finally got to the impala, Dean tossed the keys to his brother, watching as he unlocked the door. Being as careful and gentle as possible, the older Winchester sat you down in the drivers seat, your legs hanging out the door as he moved to grab the first-aid kit.

You watched him fondly as he knelt down in front of you, face set in determination as he went to work wrapping your ankle. Once done with that, he looked up, eyes falling on the gash on your temple. Hesitantly he reached up to move away some of your hair to get a better look. “How’s your head? This looks like a real doozy.”

“I mean, I did get slammed pretty hard into a countertop.” You admitted, letting out a slight hiss as Dean went to clean the wound. “I keep getting dizzy, but maybe that’s just my lack of food and sleep.”

You watched as he threw everything back into the kit, his face still set. “The first chance we get, I’ll get you some ice for your eye.” Closing the lid, he looked over towards you again. “You need sleep though. While we try and take care of this situation I’m putting you on bed rest.”

“Dean-“ you tried to protest, knowing they needed all the help they could get, but he stopped you before you could get out any more words.

“I know you want to help, but you need to sleep. Plus, we got help coming. You don’t need to worry about us.” He smiled, patting you leg before standing back up from his kneeling position.

As if on cue, the rumble of a truck had both your heads turning in unison. Sure enough an old pick up came into view, parking across the street from you. The similar flash of a trench coat brought a smile to your face as a certain blue eyed angel slid out of the drivers seat, accompanied by Ketch, Rowena, and Jack- in sunglasses?

“Dean, can you help me up?” You asked, watching as Dean nodded and gave you an arm to grab. Pulling yourself from the vehicle, you watched as Castiels eyes widened in confusion and shock, before quickly darted back and forth from Sam and Dean. His look clearly saying; what the fuck did the two of you do now?

“Cas, it’s alright. It’s really her.” Dean assured him, easing the Angel just a little bit. With quick steps, Cas crossed the street and wrapped his arms around you. His embrace strong enough that you felt your feet leave the ground for a moment.

“Missed you too Cas.” You wheezed, notifying him of the current strength he was giving to the hug. Quickly apologizing he set you back on your feet, taking a step back.

“How is this possible? You’re supposed to be in Heaven.” He exclaimed, wide eyed and bewildered.

Dean stepped in again, rendering you silent. “ Cas, as much as we all want to know how this happened, we still have to deal with the ghost apocalypse Chuck just threw at us. Plus, I’m putting Y/N on lock down.” You normally would have argued with Dean for putting you on the bench- but if you didn’t get sleep soon you were going to black out.

But the real thing that caught your attention was the tone in Deans voice when he spoke to Cas. He sounded annoyed and angry. Which only made you squint your eyes in suspicion. Something wasn’t right here. There was a thick tension hanging in the air between the Angel and the Winchester, and it made you uneasy.

*. *. *. *.

Before admitting defeat and falling into the backseat of Baby you had to be made aware of the fact that the youngest member of the group was not- in fact, Jack. You had a hunch when he didn’t run over to you like he normally did, but actually hearing the words that he wasn't sent your head spinning. And then came the disturbing fact that a demon was using his corpse as a meat suit and Dean and Sam had to hold you back from throttling him. That wasted energy had you stumbling back, almost falling into Deans arms.

“Okay, yeah- your taking a nap while we try to figure this situation out.” Dean stated. You watched him shrug off one of his many layers, wrapping his canvas jacket around you. “Promise me that you will stay here?” He gripped your shoulders, look down into your y/e/c eyes with worry as you sunk back down into the back seat of the vehicle.

“I promise.”You yawned, ignoring how Dean nodded silently. The moment your butt hit the leather all you wanted to do was fall back and let sleep take you, but of course there was the matter of assuring Dean that you were fine, that you were safe and could handle yourself. It took a few minutes but you got through that thick skull of his and he left hesitantly, but not before pressing a quick kiss to your temple.

“Ill see you soon.”

With a tired nod you fell back onto the seat, eyes fluttering shut as Dean closed the door and departed.

“Ive missed you all. . .so much.” you muttered. And with that you sunk into a deep unconsciousness, drowning reality out.

Good dreams are few and far between when you live as a hunter. The same monsters you hunt have a way of getting into your head as well, making nightmares much more common, but as you let yourself fall asleep you found yourself in one of those rare good ones.

The windows of the impala were rolled down as Dean tore down one of the many back roads of northern Michigan. The two of you had just finished up a werewolf case up near Traverse City. A soft, humid breeze found its way into the vehicle, whipping your hair across your face. Taking a deep inhale you let out a sigh. It even smelled like summer. The air was thick with the scent of hydrangeas, which hung from front porches, their baskets practically overflowing with the bright flowers. Somewhere a camp fire was burning, the sharp smell of burning oak mixing with the fresh summer air.

The soft hum of the radio shifted, a new song starting up and making you shift in your seat. Dean watched from the corner of his eye with a smirk as you reached for the volume dial, knowing full well what was about to happen.

Just a small-town girl

Livin' in a lonely world

She took the midnight train goin' anywhere

You sang along, turning the volume up even more, before turning to lock eyes with Dean, a smile playing on your lips.

Just a city boy

Born and raised in South Detroit

He took the midnight train goin' anywhere

Your smile only grew as Deans voice mixed with yours. He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel as you let out a laugh, the two of you getting more into the song.

A singer in a smokey room

The smell of wine and cheap perfume

For a smile they can share the night

It goes on and on, and on, and on

Your duet got stronger as the music swelled. You leaned back against the seat, smiling as you sang. These were the moments you could live in forever. This would be your heaven. As the song continued, the two of you belted out the verses, Dean at one point taking his hands off the wheel to attempt air guitar.

Streetlights people

Livin' just to find emotion

Hidin' somewhere in the night

Don't stop believin'

Hold on to that feelin'

Streetlight people—

You wanted to stay secure in this memory- this dream forever. It was safe and it was happy - Dean was happy.

And that’s when you woke up.

taglist: @my-proof-is-you @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @iluvyewman-blog @a-crowd-of-newsies @a-dorky-book-keeper @heyyy-hey-babyyy @orphiceseum @greenarrowhead @thevelvetseries @silver-winter-wolf @carryon-doctor-lock @jxackles @ryansgirl5509

#dean winchester #supernatural #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester imagine #spn x reader #spn imagine #supernatural x reader #supernatural imagine

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bahrlee · 4 years

Text

Suck the Blood to my Wound - Beok AU

Hello LGBTQ+ community it is chapter time

🦇🦇🦇Chapter 23: The Okay Summer🦇🦇🦇

Summer was coming to a glorious climax. People started leaving their summer homes in town and driving or flying back to wherever they came from. The sun was starting to inch it's way to the other side of the earth at an earlier time. Though he had friends to distract him, the dread in the back of his mind was present. Sure, the weather will stay the same. It was much different than its impact up north where the snow caked everything in sight and melted into cold water into your shoes and onto the roads, eroding the cement and creating potholes that are shotily filled with tar, snow shoveled up into dirty, muddy piles on the side of the road, and freezing dogs feet to the point where they limp back inside, shivering. Yet he still felt the pain of the mere existence of a fall and a winter. The days were shorter, and that's all that mattered to him. The nightmares were worse. Things that were sad were even sadder. Things that were scary were now terrifying, and things that concerned him turned him into a paranoid mess.

Then, all of a sudden, September First. Right there, on his calendar in big blocky letters right above a picture of a tree with a tire swing hanging off from one of the branches. He let out his first defeated sigh of this era. He wasn't there yet, the sun was just out long enough to keep him out of this miserable rut, but it was soon. Very soon. He felt it right behind him.

"Beach, are you okay?" Dook asked him when seeing him on this day, the way he looked down at the floor with a hopelessness Dook didn't get to see on him yet.

He shrugged, unable to really describe the feeling of impending emptiness. "Just the seasons changing, that's all. And I still miss Roxy."

Dook nodded. At least with the sun setting, they had a little more time they could spend together. The streetlights were just turning on, the sky a bluish violet, the stars beginning to blink through the ominous grey clouds overhead. They didn't really know what they were doing, but that was something they always figured out along the way. Walking together, was all they wanted to do, holding hands, talking, and laughing. Getting their mind off of things.

"You're not a big fan of change, are you?" He said.

He shook his head yes. "I get so used to things when they're one way, that it's hard sometimes to do it another. I've gotten better, but sometimes I can't help but want to scream about it."

"It's hard, yeah." Dook sighed. "You didn't seem like the anxious type when I first met you."

"I…. Get that quite a bit."

They swung their locked hands back and forth, picking up their pace a little bit. A car trundled by and turned a corner. Neon red and blue 'open' signs were beginning to flicker off as places began to close. Tonight was a very humid night, a definite sign it was going to rain soon. And here they were, outside, surrounded by close or closing buildings, with no umbrella. It was no surprise to them when it started to sprinkle. Then, the rain started to grow heavy, causing them to run, in a mess of giggles, in search of a place to hide under.

They found a place under an awning, soaked and out of breath. They were quiet for a long moment---the two watched it rain, their hands still intertwined. Beach turned to Dook, his eyes clouded and unfocused.

"I like the rain." Dook said quietly.

"We needed it."

"Yeah, we did."

Beach unhooked their hands and put his arm around Dooks waist. It was different, touching someone when their clothes were wet, and sticking to their skin, and when their hair was damp and frizzing. Maybe because they were cold (which in this case Dook was even colder) and shivering, and so touching felt different. It was, overall, just a different experience. He felt Dook lean his head on his shoulder. "This is the first uh…. Kinda decent summer I've had in awhile."

"Really?"

"I-I mean---yeah, I met you, I got away from Rolfe a couple of times, this summer has been…. Okay."

"Hard to have an okay summer when you can't really go into the sun." Beach remarked.

"....true." Dook said. "But I'd rather focus on what happened that was good. There are things that would've made it better, but if okay is all I can get, I'm taking it."

"You deserve a better summer." Beach said, leaning his head down on top of his. "I'd give you a better summer if I could."

"You already have."

"An even better one, then."

The sound of the rain patting against the fabric of the awning and the water pouring out of the gutters filled their ears as they watched another car go by, a tire sloshing through a puddle building up in the curb. The rain felt like it would never stop, but that was okay for them.

🦇🦇🦇

Mitzi rushing into his house, unnerved, was always a warning sign. "I found a dead member of my pod nearby…" she squeaked. "They were bleeding out, in their sea form, they had salt all over them….I dragged them into the ocean and back home, for my aunts to take care of it. But…"

"Oh no, Mitzi, I'm sorry...." Beach said.

"I wish we couldn't sense each other like this. I wish our disguises were used to hide from them, too. But whatever, senses give it away, and someone I know ends up dead."

"Are you sure it was Rolfe?" He asked.

"Well if it were Dook he'd have a lot of explaining to do, hes squeamish. Rolfes a wimp, but he's proven to be a cold hearted killer." Her hands were shaking her eyes couldn't focus on one thing, shifting everywhere as her mind grappling with the unadulterated fear she was feeling. "I'm really scared, what if he finds my aunts? What if he kills them too?"

"Mitzi, don't get paranoid." He gently put his hands on her shoulders, like an uncle trying to cheer up their upset niece who just scraped her knee falling off her bike.

She was beginning to cry, unable to handle the dear she was having.

"Oh Mitzi…." Beach said quietly.

"I can't help but feel like something bad is going to happen." She sniffled.

Beach didn't really know what to say---considering how many bad things happened already, he couldn't blame her for suspecting even more bad things to come about. She copied the defeated expression he gave her in solidarity. No positive or hopeful quote or saying could make them feel any better.

"Let's just make sure we don't get hurt." He said.

She nodded solemnly, hanging her head low afterwards. He didn't really know what to do. He wasn't much of a hugger, but she needed one. He was willing to put his disdain aside to give her one. Paternal instincts were something he's gained from this whole narrative. She hugged back, her hands clinging to him like a child.

"I won't let anything bad happen to you." He said. Her aunts will kill me if I do, he thought.

"I want fruit roll ups." She whined, wiping away her black tears when she let go.

"Oh my god…. I don't have those."

She began to tear up again.

"Oh my god, Mitzi…."

"I want fruit roll ups…."

This is what it must've felt like to have a teenage sister. All she did was worry, eat, and cry, and he had to deal with it. He didn't mind though. He cared for her, even when she was being this way. So when she snagged her arms around him again, he didn't push her away.

"You wanna watch a movie?" He said.

"Camp rock?" She looked up at him, her inky tears staining his shirt.

"Sure, if you want."

"The weird fish movie then?"

He paused for a moment. "That movie will make you feel worse."

"But it's animated!"

"That means nothing."

"Fine…. We can watch camp rock."

"I…. Have other movies besides the fish movie and camp rock."

She didn't respond, buried her head into his shirt, and kept hugging him. He stroked the back of her head, confused but sympathetic. "Camp Rock it is, I guess."

🦇🦇🦇

He poured Mitzi a glass of Tropicana fruit punch, since she was craving something fruity and was quite dehydrated after crying the way she did. She drank it the way a kid did---no stopping for breath, just wheezing into the cup as she drank, the soothing feeling of a beverage going down your throat after a cry was an immaculate one. She also wrapped herself with a blanket. He didn't know whether he should be glad, or scared that she was becoming comfortable enough that she could make herself at home. He put on camp rock, since she was convinced for some reason it was the only movie to exist, and she stared at it, like how he did at Peanuts holiday specials as a kid and sometimes still as an adult, her eyes still red from the crying. She seemed so innocent when she was like this. She was so fragile, and naive, so much like the kid she was. He knew deep down she knew a lot, she dealt with a lot, and she did a lot, but, a lot like Dook, she was still a kid. She was still learning many things, and maturing in the sense of how she dealt with things.

"Are you feeling a little better?" He asked her, when she finished her drink.

"I guess. A little bit. I don't know." She pulled the blanket tighter around herself.

"Ah, got it." He leaned back.

"I'm starting to see why my aunts are so protective of me now…." She sighed, hunching over and bundling her legs up into her blanket as if she were cocooning herself. "It really is dangerous up here. Fish are assholes, but…. Werewolves are worse."

He gave her a pat on the shoulder.

They continued to watch camp rock in an odd silence. Mitzi's eyes began to droop, growing increasingly tired. Curled up into a little ball, she fell sideways, asleep. Beach smiled, and continued to watch the movie in the quiet, letting her rest. There was nothing like the feeling of sleeping off an unwanted cry. Those kinds of cries always induced headaches and fatigue, dehydration, feelings of hopelessness…. Basically, crying when distressed like how Mitzi was resulted in medication side effects. It was the mind's confusing way of releasing confusingly painful and stressful emotions. She deserved her rest.

An hour after the move ended, she woke back up, looking disoriented and confused. "Where am i?" She asked.

"My house."

"Oh. That's right."

Beach smiled. "Let's getcha home." he got up, pulling her off the couch, the blanket falling to her knees. She tripped her way out of it, still sleepy, and sulking from her bad mood. She was quiet in the car, just as she was when he first drove her to the sea that first tonight they met. It suddenly hit him how long it has been since he met her.

He dropped her off, she waved goodbye, and ran off to the Beach and into the ocean, to be seen again whenever.

He got out of his car himself and climbed up to the roof, taking in the night. He was going to miss this when the nightmares parked their way into his mind for the next 6 months. The loud crickets and frogs, looking at the stars, the feeling of, even in complete darkness, safety, and security. Without the feeling something was lurking behind him. Although, this time, there was something lurking behind him. He was jolted by a thunk on his car from behind him. And there was Rolfe, a sly, knowing smile on his face. Beach felt his heartbeat gain traction, his guard flipping up as he tried to keep a brace face while looking back at him.

"Interesting to find you out here. Visiting her again?" He asked. The tone of his voice was unpleasant.

"Just got her home. Seems just in time too." He swallowed, suspicious, nervous, and anything else he could possibly be in this moment.

"Did she like my surprise?"

"Wh---it was you, of course it was you!" He seethed. "She nearly had a panic attack from what you've done!"

He let out a pleasant laugh. "Glad to know. She's getting too cocky herself. Had to do what I did with you and send her a warning. I've seen her stalking Dook. She brought along a friend the most recent time, the friend being the one i…. Seasoned."

Beach almost threw up in his mouth from how terrible that threatening villain pun was. Then he wondered why Mitzi kept that detail from him. It explained her guilt a little more in depth, too.

"Right when I thought Dook was an airhead he decided to move to a place populated with sea monsters, knowing they'd become obstacles. I should've known better than to think a vampire, any vampire, wasn't cunning in some way." He monologues, mostly just to hear himself talk. Beach still listened, though, as he was afraid to run, this was his car, and he liked hearing Dook get complimented.

"He's pretty street smart. Thought you'd know that pretty well after all these years of following him." He snarked back.

"Watch it."

"Or what?"

"Do you want me to kill someone else near and dear to your heart?! You don't know what'll happen to me if I don't get Dook back in this next month! Its terrible!"

"In other words, wonderful to everyone else. What happens?" He asked.

"The mafia unit in this state starts hunting me down, too. I could get killed!" He said. "I've gotten every vampire I've ever hunted to break, and give in, but since the beginning, no wolf has been able to get under his skin! Not even the house of pain could get under his skin! And there are ways of torture there that involve literally doing that. The fact they don't give me backup for this guy makes me angry!"

"Every thought about why you can never get him to comply?"

"What?" He crossed his arms.

This was a surreal, diplomatic moment. Rolfe was showing some form of vulnerability, so he had to use that to at least in some way protect Dook, Mitzi, and whomever else.

"Well, for starters, he never wanted to be a vampire in the first place. And you caught him at the point of his life he was looking forward to. He was just starting to figure things out, he was going to get his life together. But right before he could even try, he was forced into all of this. Ever thought about what that's like, you're finally rising from the ashes, only to be taken and thrown into another fire? He must've been very optimistic, because of the fact it gave him such an urge to fight for so many years. He wants his old life back, and since he can't get it, the least he wants is to be left alone." He explained.

"Hmm…" Rolfe put a finger to his mouth, thinking. He didn't seem like the type to show remorse, but he was hoping for him to at least think. "It would explain why he's so relentless. Ever since the day the Boss wolf introduced him to the rest of the mafia, he struggled in his arms. You know how he escaped the house during his visit? He was buried alive in a box. He used the spikes on one of his bracelets, chiselled and broke his way out of the box, unburied himself, and made a run for it. I've never seen someone fight so hard to get away."

"Then why don't you let him get away? Tell the mafia he stepped into the sun, or he ate some garlic?" Beach questioned. "Why try, if he'll never break?"

"I have to at least try. The Boss Wolf is my father. He taught me how to capture even the most unrestful of vampires. He assigned me Dook because he believes in me. And if I fail, he wont go easy on me just because I'm his son. I'll end up as dead as the other wolves before me. I have to. This is my duty. I don't care if it takes until in 90, I'm going to get Dook back there somehow." Rolfe explained. "You really care about him this much you're trying to reason with the enemy?"

"Yeah, I do…." He really hoped Rolfe didn't know they were, in some way, an item.

He panicked to himself, a knowing grin on his face. "He's gonna break your heart, kid. I've seen this one too many times. He likes to fly in and out of relationships. He moves from town to town, falling in love and then having to leave them behind. From what my father learned about him, hes lovesick, but clumsy. You two will probably last as long as his last one."

A Beach shrugged not knowing how to respond with his words. Rolfe could sense his thinking, which only made his smile grow.

"Ha, don't even try to argue. You know it deep inside. Dook is only a small blip in your life as it will be in his, just like the other times. You'll remember him more as this seems to be your first big fling, but to Dook, it's just another name on a list. You're expecting a lot from a hussy, Beach. Get that through your brain. I thought you were smart." He sneered.

Beach looked at him intensely. He knew that wasn't the case for them, but it still damaged him to think that…. Maybe it was. If he didn't become a vampire, he was just going to be left behind as Dook moved away to get away from Rolfe again, and probably find somebody new. He was always telling himself he didnt care if it didn't work out in the long run, but it was like deep down inside, that was exactly what he wanted. He wanted it to be long term. He wanted him to stay here with him. He wanted to wake up next to him, run through the rain with him, hold his hands in a dark theater with him forever. But could that really happen? Was he too blinded by his own love to see that maybe this relationship didn't mean as much to him?

"Don't say I told ya so if you dont last for another couple months. It's best you just let Dook and I do our cat and mouse until he leaves again, leaving you stranded." He turned around and began to walk away.

"For someone who's been following him around for years, I'm assuming, you sure don't know that much about him."

Rolfe stopped and turned around, rolling his eyes, yet still intrigued by what he had to say.

"He has a past. He's done things he isn't proud of. But she's much more complex than you think." He hoped off of the top of the car. "You're idea of him is very…. Flat. Static. Two-dimensional. People change and learn. And although he's been stuck in the same mindset, I'm sure he's learned how to take things slower than he had in the past."

"Really? If you're taking it slow…. How many times have you slept together?"

Beach scoffed, and gave him a face of disgust. "That's a personal question."

"A couple times then, I'm guessing---"

"That is a personal question." He repeated his voice suddenly intense. "I don't get what the obsession is with that, so can you please shut the hell up about it!?"

Rolfe looked at him in shock. He didn't know he had it in him to raise his voice like that. "Very well then. Have your mindless fun. Act like he won't leave you in the dust. Move as fast as you like. But you've been warned. You have your Hopes too high."

He turned around again, and walked off, that stupid smile still on his face.

Beach cursed under his breath, unlocked his car, climbed in and drove home, feeling invaded, dumb, and cranky. His three least favorite things to feel.

#beok #fanfiction #rae au #beach bear #dook larue #the rock afire explosion

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unboundbnha · 4 years

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hoooo my god. this is for ME

for me. for godzilla. :’)

➤ rules; make headcanons of you and a character of your choice, be it sfw or nsfw.

Thank you so much for tagging me @spicyness! I’m gonna SKAJHDSKJ. HHHHH. This is everything? Fuck I just want a purple boyfriend 😫 this will be about Shinsou because I like him a normal amount :-)

First off, I’m a pain in the ass. My sense of humor is wack (it’s basically just ‘annoy my friends and loved ones’), I’m always fricken TANKING The Mood (because it’s funny and I physically cannot resist making a Funny if the opportunity’s there), everything turns into a game unless you make me stop wink wonk. Shinsou seems like the type to snort in amusement and roll his eyes at my dumb antics, and I appreciate that! If I could make him legit laugh I’d die happy. (I am also emotionally savvy enough to know when to draw the line though, don’t worry. It’s just, man, my idea of fun is ‘LET’S ROAST ‘EM’)

I love cats. I’ll lose my whole mind over them. They NEED head kisses. Shinsou also likes cats. He also needs head kisses. That’s it, that’s the bullet point

Being open and honest and genuine is important to me. I believe most any relationship (friendship or otherwise) can work if you’re willing to communicate and empathize with the other person: I would 100% be willing to hear Shinsou’s shit, and he seems like he’d be a good listener too. I’m also good at logicking things through and he seems like he’d appreciate that. Likewise, he seems like he’d do the same for me, and as long as we stayed humble and weren’t looking to be offended (I don’t Do That -- he’s a Cancer -- love you, Cancers -- so it might take him a minute to get on the same page, but he’s emotionally smort and cares about me so I think he’d be willing to work at it) then we could help each other through emotionally hard stuff with hard truths. Plus, I’m a super honest person: if he was in a relationship with me he’d probably be pretty secure in knowing I wouldn’t hurt him on purpose. If past shit comes up with him, I’ll talk to him. Talking’s the good shit, y’all: utilize patience and empathy and you’ll be so well off!

I also battle, with a big fucking sword, a lot with mental health stuff (LMAOOOO WHO DON’T!!! YEET). I used to struggle with agoraphobia and still deal with anxiety and depression. On top of that, I have something like chronic fatigue -- I’ve been calling it chronic fatigue because I’m fucking tired, all the time. My top energy levels are like a 35% on a fantastic day. I really like the idea of this boye seeing me melting into a puddle, face down on the carpet, and bein like “how’s it going down there? you okay?” and the answer being obviously no, but him just like. Man I dunno. He seems like the kind of person who’s tired, but who can live with it. I can’t! When I’m tired, that’s it babes! I hit a 0% on my battery and I’ll collapse! So I just, hhhh. Don’t laugh, but I like to fantasize about him bundling me up and into bed. Thinkin’ about Birthday Snoot by my good friend @lord-explosion-baku and melting, okay?? OKAY???? I’m soft, the truth’s OUT, FUCK! I want to be taken care of like a sad but pampered cat.

(Please read Birthday Snoot I still cry over it)

Also I’m gross and struggle to shower often enough because it’s exhausting so bein given a gentle bath? oh MAN. Hands softly running through my stupid, terrible hair...asking me about my day and if anything happened that triggered me feeling this bad...just....the tenderness....the gentle affection.....being loved even when I’m at my lowest. Being cared for when I can’t do it myself. That’s a legit fantasy y’all. We out here!

I love to SNOOZE. I love being COZY. You bet your sweet bippy I’m gonna sprawl over a couch and take up the whole thing. Shinsou’d better be willing to snuggle the fuck up. I’ve got great squish which I personally feel like’s great for cuddling: I’m like warm taffy. How better to gently seep into every crevasse of your Favorite Person while enjoying a cozy cuddle?

Listen, everyone fucks hard with Shinsou calling his S/O ‘kitten’, and I agree (def have written leetle -- HOO -- leetle scenarios with that nickname because wow) but I get all wibbly with the idea of He calling me ‘Angel’. A joke at first because, like, guys, I’m really nice. (I know it sounds bad when people say they’re nice and LSDFLKJDF I AM, OKAY. I’ve worked on it. Cultivated the skill of kindness! Being kind isn’t easy, and sometimes you just wanna go apeshit, but I’ve worked hard to improve upon myself! Yeet!) But I also just really fucking love being annoying. I simply cannot resist the urge to sneak up behind someone and poke them in the ribs. I rib-poke while in the deep depths of making out too, I’ve tanked the mood a lot so picture my dumb ass Pink Panther’ing behind Shinsou, prepared to be Evil while he’s, idk, making breakfast or something, and before I can commit a Rib Crime he uses his hero training and fast reflexes and honed senses and all that good stuff to snatch my wrist and ask “what’re you up to, angel?” the answer is nothing, because he’s killed me by being sexy and fast and hero-y, and he’s probably actually killed me by startling me into collapsing like a fainting goat

He gets the deep stuff. Unfortunately for everyone and especially myself, I’m a Thinker with a capital T: it never fucking stops. I had an existential crisis for like three years in a row because of course, but I feel like he knows what it’s like to get lost in your head. Working each other out of panic attacks because holy jesus the universe sure is fucking huge huh? We’re not even a blip on the radar in the history of existence and we’re gonna be dead basically tomorrow aaaand that’s why we’d be good for each other, because I feel like we both have coping mechanisms that keep us from spiraling too bad, and we could share them with each other.

I also so fucking admire his drive, but it makes me angry that stupid fucking hero society would discriminate in the first place.

Oh, yeah, that’s another good point: I’m hella mad about 98% of the time and I work hard to hide it! Because innocent people don’t deserve to get yelled at! I feel like Shinsou’s smart enough to sense when I’m about to pop and he can be like “heyyyyy...you wanna talk this out constructively instead of getting into a public brawl?” and I’ll be like “NO but I’ll do it for you because I love you” and then we get pizza.

Because I’m fine and balanced and stuff, I made a quirk for myself if I was in the BNHA-verse, and basically I can get stronger at the expense of higher thinking skills and will turn into a weapon of mass destruction against whatever I’m pointing at (ugh, that’s so sexy. Fuck I wanna be a big spooky buff as shit monster thing), friend or foe, so Shinsou and I would work well in tandem because if I got too rowdy he could use his quirk and get me to calm down! Keep me from accidentally doing a murder! Nice!

Okay this is nsfw so if you’re under 18 DON’T READ IT. I’LL CALL YOUR PARENTS. GET OFF MY BLOG.

Relating to the point above, QUIRKPLAY. Mind control me into stuff I want to do but am too awkward to ask for, please and THANK you. Also, Shinsou’s a top. Gotta be, and thank god for it because I’m certainly not. I’m not happy about being a fucking bottom, because my first and most powerful personalty trait is ‘be as annoying as possible to the people you like; don’t let them tell you what to do.’ Can’t make it easy on myself, nope. Anyway, I want the appearance of being a top without the responsibility because damn, gotta be like, suave and shit. Gotta plan stuff. I don’t like that! I do that enough in real life and I don’t like it there, either! But whatever. I’m a brat and I feel betrayed by my coochie for it. But Shinsou’s a top and he’d tease me for being Fucking Terrible, and suddenly I wouldn’t be so mad at my coochie. She has her reasons.

I...like Shinsou for a lot of reasons, but a really big one, for sure, is that I feel like he can communicate about the important stuff. He likes to tease, but he knows when to be serious too. I’m really wack about being close and intimate with people and I have, hhh, special requirements to be able to sleep with them, and I feel like he’d both be able to respect AND honor that. Like, run through the rest of the BNHA boys with me here: would Bakugou be able to be completely cool, calm, and collected while still teasing, but knowing where to draw the line? Todoroki’s closer maybe, but he’s not as people-smart (which is also a big thing for me). Confidence (or at least the appearance of it when it’s important), respect, communication, listening and respecting what I ask for even if it seems wack -- Shinsou has that, and god is it attractive.

Also, mind control.

Also, his capture weapon.

Also you know this motherfucker is kinky as shit. Thank the good lord.

Also, sexy-slow makeouts with his long, nimble hands running up my outer thighs to squeeze my waist -- teeth on neck, stolen gasps of breath --

\\\\\\

I feel bad because all of this, fuckin, WALL of text is pretty much ‘this is what purble boy can do for me’ and I don’t say a lot I’d do for him, but if I got someone like him I’d go to the end of the earth for them. I may be a perpetually-sleepy bitch, but one of my best -- and worst -- character traits is my unwavering loyalty. I’ll be 110% down to kick anyone’s ass who insults him: he can fight his own battles, but he shouldn’t have to over some dumbass with a big mouth and a little brain. Making him smile and laugh, oof, be still my beating heart. Words of encouragement when life gets too much. Genuine thanks for his help, whatever it may be. Hugs, because we’re both touch-starved as fuck and he deserves gentleness, dammit. He doesn’t seem like his love language is receiving gifts -- more like quality time and words of affirmation? Maybe physical touch? -- but I’d still get him little things that made me think of him, that could help him in his day to day life or maybe just bring a smile to his face. We could rescue each other at social conventions, have dates to the humane society and play with cats. Support each other through our depression days, prove that even having a brain that’s mean to you sometimes doesn’t make you unlovable. Man, idk. The whole thing’s soft and makes my heart go doki-doki. Hitoshi Shinsou is an extremely good person and god damn I’d want to show him I appreciated him and existing at the same time as him. He deserves love and kindness. He deserves someone to kiss every knuckle of his hand. He deserves hugs in the kitchen and blankets being pulled over his shoulders when he falls asleep at the desk. He deserves only good things, and I’d be honored to give them to him.

HHHHH.

Okay! If you made it to the end of this, congratulations! You don’t actually get anything, but boy oh boy you have a lot of information about ME now! Aren’t you delighted? Heh. So! You tag people for this stuff, and I’m gonna tag @lord-explosion-baku, @bnhascribbles, @perpetual-bed-head, @russianonion, @weebsinstash, and last but certainly not least, @usernamekate94. Tell me about Monoma, Kate. Tell me.

#god this is a mess. anyway #I just! he's a good boy brent!!!! ;_;#self ship meme #author x character #I would feel embarrassed if I possessed the ability to feel embarrassed #I'm weak for one (1) man: so WHAT if he's fictional #I can daydream about giving him the hugs he deserves!!! AND I WILL

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joonyverse · 5 years

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my precious burst of energy - kim namjoon (bts) (oneshot)

A/N: BACK WITH NAMJOON FIC MUAHAHA! I’ve been feeling lottas namjoon feels nowadays, pls bear with me, ily guys <3 Also to those who’s waiting for my Baekhyun’s fic, please wait a little bit more! <333

Summary: You were in the last year of your university. Essays here and there, not to mention researches. To sum it up, it was hell. And you felt like you made a great decision when you decided to move into a cozy nice medium sized apartment near your campus. And your roommate happened to be the campus’ most feared guy. But little incident lead to a thing. What happened though when said incident happened to someone who has graduation on the line and in the middle of breakdown?

Warning: implication of smut happened but no smut scene, curses, bad english, grammar mistakes, unedited

Genre: FLUUUUFF, a lil touch of angst, roommate au, grad stud!namjoon, law stud!reader

Word count: 9,024

Kim Namjoon x readers

oneshot

The fatigue from sleep finally start to kicking in, by giving you signs from the dull ache in your head. You can’t help but stir in your sleep, frown making its way into your face, before you slowly opened your eyes. The sun hasn’t rise fully, but by the slight brighter color that seems to seep from your curtain, you were sure it was around half past six in the morning.

You let out a little yawn as you stretched out your body. Hands coming down to your eyes to gently rubbed away the sleepiness. You felt like death. Body all stiff, you suspected it was because of your unchanging posture for a long time from finishing essay that is critical on deciding whether you graduate last night.

And finally, the dull ache was being replaced by a pounding pain. You groaned, regretting your choice of finishing your essay in a night. You really regret on putting behind your essay, because now you have to deal with the consequence aka going with at least two hours worth of sleep. You really can’t wait to have this essay get it over and done with. Hours of research and typing makes you wanna poke your eyes out of tiredness.

Getting up from the bed, you walked into the bathroom to brush your teeth and wash your face. Carefully you made your way there, hand reaching for the wall to steadied yourself.

The coldness of the water freshen you up a little bit. The grumble in your stomach however remind you that the last meal you had was that sandwich from the cafe that you visited on your way home.

You walked into the kitchen, silently pouring yourself some cereal and milk into your bowl, before you took a seat on the couch in the living room.

The sound of door opening break the silence of the morning that seemed to be filling the apartment. Your head quickly shot up at the intruder, spoon stop midway from your mouth. You thanked god that it wasn’t in your mouth just yet or else you’d choke remembering that you probably look like someone who hasn’t have enough rest since they were born.

There was your roommate, Kim Namjoon, walking out of his room. It’s been a month since you both became roommate, and yet, you were still a little bit too intimidated to initiate a friendly conversation whatsoever. Your conversations are all just about house necessities. He was your senior by three years, or well, supposedly had he weren’t graduated. He was notable for his intimidating aura around the campus. No one brave enough to challenge him and his authority, unless you are his friend, a close one at that. From what you heard, he was close to six of the most popular boys at campus, but honestly? You really couldn’t care less, most of them had graduated so there’s no reason for you to care.

But that doesn’t change the fact that you weren’t part of the exception. His aura was overwhelming to you. You were intimidated by his very presence if you could frankly speak. He was this smart student, loved by so many professors to the point that almost at every lesson his name would be mentioned by them at least once, his achievements are all there for anyone to know and anyone to see. He was a student anyone aspire to be. To say that you were intimidated, wasn’t come as a surprise.

Your friends are all beyond shocked when they first knew that Namjoon will be your roommate in your apartment. They were all teasingly comforting you as if saying that you’ll be able to go through this just fine. But really, you swore you almost die from heart attack every time he appeared around you in the apartment.

“G-good morning!” you greeted a little bit way too bubbly and cheerful than you would like to. You mentally slapped your forehead.

Namjoon’s eyes shot up at you. His expression was unreadable, which doesn’t come as a surprise, but you were still feeling like shitting your pants out of humiliation anyway. “Morning” he answered, voice lower and less cheerful than you were. Well it was still early in the morning, what were you expecting anyway.

You turn your attention back to your breakfast decide that maybe, today is not the day you’re going to engage a conversation with Kim Namjoon, once again. You saw it through your peripheral view that he suddenly stopped in his track, caught your attention making you look up at him.

“U-uh” he stuttered, as if hesitating to talk. Your expression said nothing but inside, you were amused at the fact that he was stuttering. You always imagined Namjoon as the man with his mind always gathered, he got the males and females on the palm of his hand, and have nothing to be afraid of. But seems like that’s not always the case. You were sure if your friends right there, they would go into some teenage girl mode.

You can’t deny at the fact that Namjoon is an attractive man. And you can’t deny the fact that there’s some time where you were just home, and he was watching the TV at the living room, and you would secretly hawking at him. And anyone and their mothers know that Namjoon is one hell of an attractive man, especially with that brain of his. Your theory is further confirmed by the fact of the women’s moans you’d hear at least once in a week. At first you thought he got a lover, but this theory was debunk as you caught several women going out of the apartment, and all are different. You gotta applaud him on that one, because your sex life is currently nonexistent, let alone romance.

But it seems like you fell into deep thoughts because Namjoon’s raised voice to caught your attention managed to make you jump a little bit. “Ah yes! Sorry! What were you saying?” you asked.

Namjoon shook his head. “I’d be home a little bit late today, I’ll have a dinner with my… colleagues tonight” he said, before he scratched the back of his neck, as if asking himself why did he goes into detail, and why did he tell you that when all this time, you both never told each other if either of you going to be home late. Your eyebrow raised in wonder, but nevertheless, you nodded at him, sparing the poor man from possible embarrassment.

“Okay…” you said simply, before going back to your paused meal. The sound of door closing was heard, probably Namjoon was going out for a run.

After you finished your meal, you washed the dishes before getting ready for the day.

It was almost seven in the evening. Your plan to have some me time was thrown out of the window at this point in your opinion honestly. You were just finishing up your essay that your professor had pointed out that needed to be corrected or some sort, which earned a big internal groan from you. Through your grit teeth, you accept it, with a forced smile of course.

You were beyond tired. And honestly, you felt like crying your heart out, because really, no matter how many times you’ve corrected it, it feels like you’re just always wrong. And you were beyond exhausted and anxious. But you held your tears back, not wanting to break into a breakdown in the middle of the now empty auditorium. Silently, you packed your things into your bag.

The walk towards your apartment was rather solemn. Or at least, it was to you. Everyone was enjoying their Friday night. You saw some people who dressed up to go to a club. Restaurants packed with people, mostly couples. It was a very alive night to say the least. And you felt pathetic for walking with your head down, laptop being held to your chest, a longchamp bag in your shoulder, clearly was dressed for anything but fun.

As soon as you walked into the comfort of your very own room, you immediately went into your study desk, putting your bag that filled with books on top of it, along with your laptop, setting up what you usually need when you work at home. You removed the light makeup you put on before you took a shower and changed into your pajamas.

With a sigh, you sat on the chair. Your chair was a very comfortable chair, you bought it with your saving, and you had to say, you didn’t regret it one bit. But that doesn’t change the fact that you still get stiff after sitting there for hours, but at least, it was better than what your friends had to go through. You opened your laptop to continue the essay. From time to time, you keep rubbing your eyes, fighting to stay awake.

The sound of door opening from outside was heard, signaling that Namjoon had gone home, or at least that’s what you hoped for not some burglars forcing entrees. Still you didn’t pull your attention from your work. You can hear the sound of giggles outside, and you were more than sure that Namjoon didn’t have a ‘dinner with his colleague’ like he said this morning. You can only hope that they wouldn’t be as loud as Namjoon’s girls would usually do. You were beyond stressed at this point, and you’re more than sure it wasn’t healthy anymore.

But seems like luck wasn’t at your side. It was loud. God, you were even wondering why the neighbors haven’t complained yet at the noise, and you can only guess that they’re also got intimidated by Namjoon, too afraid to confront him. You swore you can feel the tears of frustration brimming in your eyes. And seems like it wasn’t your head that control your movements at that point, but rather your heart. As you find yourself getting up from your chair, exiting your room, and walking towards the path of Namjoon’s room.

You can hear the noise getting louder as you getting closer. And you really feel like exploding, maybe from the noise, or maybe from your stressed state and your desperate need to cool off. Your fist land hardly on the door, and you were pretty sure it was rather banging than knocking at the door at that point. “Please shut the fuck up if you’re having sex or at least lower it!” you screamed into the door. You hear all activities ceased there. And for a moment, your mind is finally gathered and you realized what you had done. You run off back into the comfort of your room, continuing your work. Well at least, you can now work in a more silence environment.

It was the next morning that all the things you’ve done the night before came down upon you. And honestly, you were scared to face Namjoon. Did you ruin his night? Absolutely. Did you regret? Well, you clearly do. And now, you are too scared to go out of the room. The sound that your stomach made clearly screamed for food, and you can only whisper-yelled at it to shut up at least until you were sure Namjoon was out of the house.

You checked the clock on your bedside table. It was showing that it was almost ten. And you really hate the fact that you still had your bed hair on, haven’t shower or anything. Honestly? You felt like you’re going to have 6 boys in your door, mocking you for ruining Namjoon’s night or something. You felt like Namjoon going to make your life a living hell, and you were scared for your own life.

You reached for your phone, and texted your friend about it. You just pressed send, when knocks on your door was heard. You froze on your bed. Not knowing what to do. Should you pretend to be asleep? Should you open the door? Should you open the door and escape from whatever is waiting for you outside that door?

But before you can decide what to do, the door to your room was opened. You mentally blamed yourself for not locking it. And there appeared Namjoon, who seemingly want to peak in at first, but seeing that you were awake, he opened the door a little bit wider, so his head can peaked in better.

“Hey… my friend made us some breakfast if you want” he said while scratching the back of his neck. You can tell that for some reason, he felt awkward.

You who were still froze on the spot, it’s like the sun has shine upon you and melted you. You sat up a little bit more relaxed than you were before. “Uh sure! I’ll be there in a minute” you said.

“Okay good! See you there” he said before he closed the door.

You sighed in relief. It’s like your worries had been lifted at the fact that Namjoon doesn’t seem mad. And now, you felt guilty for ruining his night and possibly his orgasm if he was almost there.

With head down, you walked out of your room, bracing yourself for awkwardness and more of what’s to come.

You sat down on the dining chair, Inhaling the smell of food that seems so delicious. Whoever Namjoon’s friend is, you wouldn’t mind living with them if it means foods like this every single day. You can tell it was homemade. And you didn't know how much you crave it until you saw it before your eyes.

It seems like Namjoon noticed the delirious state you were in. He can’t help but chuckled a little bit. “Please, eat” he said politely.

You shyly look away and eat the food. You swore you can feel your eyes at the back of your head when your spoon reached the inside of your mouth. It was… That good. And Namjoon silently watched you in amusement. You felt like you were a starved man that haven’t eat for years, but now that you think about it, it’s been so long since you eat real food. Your daily food is consist of instant foods from the convenience market near the apartment or the food that you ordered from a restaurant nearby that far from healthy.

As you put down your spoon and swallowed your food, you felt like you had to say something about last night.

“About last night-“

You both talked in the same time, causing you both to stop. You looked at each other with a wide eyes. And you both can’t help but chuckle. “Please, you go first” you said.

“Oh no, you go first, I insist” Namjoon said.

“Okay… so here comes nothing I guess” you muttered. “I’m so sorry for last night, I didn’t mean to ruin your night or anything, and clearly I didn’t mean to yell and banging on your door last night, it was my bad” you apologized.

Namjoon’s eyes widened. “Oh no no no, please, don’t be sorry, it should be me who’s supposed to be sorry, after all it was my partner that was being loud, you sound rather stressed last night, are you okay?” he asked, eyes filled with concern.

You clearly caught off guard. You expected anything but his concern. “Well, you know, or you probably don’t considering how people admire you so much and how smart you are, but it was just… you know, it’s my last year and all, and I have this very important essay, and I’m a little bit more stressed than I’m supposed to, and I- I’m sorry, I’m rambling” you said before you shook your head at your tendency on talking more than you supposed to.

Namjoon chuckled again. “No no, it’s okay, I understand, I also went through what you’re going through, anxieties and stress, mostly stress though, I’m scared that it won’t be enough to get me to graduate, blah blah blah” he said.

“Yeah! Just like that” you agreed.

“I can help you if you want?” Namjoon offered.

“Huh? Oh no! You really don’t need to-“ “It’s okay, I don’t mind, I like helping people anyway” he shrugged.

“Oh really? But I don’t want to burden you…”

“It’s okay really, just bother me whenever when you need help because I clearly don’t mind” he said with a smile followed by a wink, making you somewhat flustered. “Do you have any plan tonight?” He asked.

“Well, my plan for tonight is actually finishing my never-ending essay at this cafe that my friend keep recommending me, but she’s out with her boyfriend so… yeah” you said.

“Well, might as well bring me along so I can help you!”

“Are you sure-“

“Y/n, I’m more than sure, please, just let me help you, take this as my apology of being noisy last night and for haven’t offering you my help all this time” he insisted.

You chuckled at how persistent he was. “Okay, we’re going at 3 then” you said with a smile on.

“3 it is”

It was almost three. You were sitting in front of your wardrobe not knowing what to wear. It feels like nothing looks good on you despite you’ve been wearing the clothes countless times.

“It’s not even a date, why am I brainstorming on what to wear again?” you rumbled to yourself.

A knock on your door woke you up from your trance. “Are you ready?” Namjoon asked from behind the door.

You panicked and quickly got up. Quickly chose an outfit to wear. “Hold on! Let me change my clothes!” you said.

You finally settled for a white short sleeved, a mom jeans, and a white sneakers to complete the fashion. You brought your laptop and longchamp bag that filled with books with you before you made your way out of your room.

“Well, let’s go!

You had fun really. With Namjoon’s help, you felt your uneasiness was relieved by a lot. He was a lot nicer than you actually thought at first. He made the subject seems easy really. And you were more than thankful for his help, because you were sure without his help, your essay would be nowhere. As your thank you, his beverage was your treat, despite him insisting on paying.

You both laughed at he fact how it’s been 4 years, yet you only got close now. You really blamed yourself on being too scared to approach him.

“Well, to my defense, you always seem busy, the first two years, you were busy with university and your organizations, and then the next, you were busy with searching for a job, and I guess, it’s only know I finally get to know about you!” you defended yourself.

Namjoon playfully raised an eyebrow at you. “Are you sure it’s only about that?” he teased.

You laughed. Clearly he caught you there. “Well, I admit that you intimidated me! But who wouldn’t? Literally everyone in my year is scared of you, and of course, I can’t help but feel the same” You said while pouting.

“I really don’t get why they’re scared of me! I’m a nice man!” Namjoon whined.

“Well, you are this attractive man with one hell of a sexy brain and lots of achievements, and every professor talk about you at least once in every lesson… boy, don’t be surprised” you said before you took a sip of your drink.

Namjoon suddenly made a teasing face at you, like as if something you said had intrigued him a lot. “What? Something on my face?” you asked, hand reaching for your face, feeling somewhat self conscious.

“No no, but you said I’m an attractive man with a sexy brain” Namjoon said while chuckling.

Your breathe got caught, and you almost choked. You really got to stop talking beyond what your brain can handle, because that is clearly out of the line.

“Oh don’t worry, many had told me about that before” he said in a playful tone with a smirk on his face.

You can’t help but rolled your eyes. “Oh sure you had, the constant noise in our house proves that” you retorted back.

That evening, you both chat with each other as he helped you, getting to know each other better. And maybe… he isn’t as bad as what people told you. No, he’s definitely not like what those people said.

It wasn’t until as you went home that you chatted your friend about your day.

from y/n: Holy shit, but I think I just have a good day after so many bad days? from y/n: he’s not so bad…

Monday finally comes around. You can’t help but groan, as you have to go to the campus again. You were low-key wishing that you would break a bone so you wouldn’t have to go. But of course that didn’t happen, because as much as you wish for so, break a bone would hurt so bad, and hospital bill is expensive, and you wouldn’t risk foods for broken bones.

And just like you expected, it was a long day. You were chatting with your friends at the cafeteria. You would chat outside if it wasn’t for the heat. But even inside, you could feel you’re about to break into sweats, proven by how you and your friends keep fanning to yourself.

The conversation about Namjoon surprisingly doesn’t come up. You were pretty surprised as it was your friend here that you were talking about. But you didn’t prey on it. But for some reason, that’s all you wanna talk about. You want to gush about him, about your day, and yet you feel like you can’t. And you don’t even know why.

Until suddenly a sight caught your attention. It was Namjoon walking towards the entrance of your cafeteria. You were genuinely confused of Namjoon’s sudden appearance here. But seems like your excitement outweighs your logic as you found yourself leaping out of the seat, and running towards him, earning a few yells of questions from your friends.

You greeted him excitedly. “Hi Namjoon!” you called. And you felt it. Everyone stopped whatever they were doing, dead in their tracks. And you feel yourself suddenly froze in your own place. Your eyes were about to close in shame as you see Namjoon scratching the back of his neck. Uh oh, did you make him uncomfortable?

And then you remember the reputation he held. God… to anyone’s sight, it’s like you were greeting the beast asking for death. His nice side, you only recovered it like two days ago. He probably doesn’t want so many people to find out, and now that you greeted him excitedly like some teenager in love, people going to talk about it for perhaps days, or even years, and now your peaceful university days without drama will be tarnished, just like that. And you mentally slapped yourself.

Your friend quietly bowed to him before she dragged you back to your seat. And you swore you almost cried in embarrassment. But you were a big girl, you wouldn’t cry in a public place like this.

Your embarrassment reached its peak, as a woman suddenly approached Namjoon who had sit in a seat in front of you and your friends. They look like they were closed with each other. Well judging by the fond smile they shared with each other, it seems like they were close. The woman was rather beautiful. God, you were wondering even if you ever seen her in any magazines, but you don’t remember. It looks like she stepped freshly out of a runway or a manga. And you can see some people in the cafeteria eyeing her. She clearly knows how to flaunt her beauty in the perfect places.

Your friends were asking you about what the hell was that whole fiasco about. And yet you can’t focus on it. Your focus remained on the sight before you and the strange burning sensation in your chest. You can see them giggling with each other. And it seems like your friend caught that, and so she shoved a sandwich into your mouth.

“Now that I think about it, you texted me about him… right?” you friend asked, caught your attention.

And for some reason, you don’t want to admit that. “Nope, you saw that wrong probably” you said.

Your other friend’s curiosity peaked in. “Oh! what did she say?” she asked while giggling.

“Oh no! Minhyuk I swear if you tell her-“

“Honey, I won’t tell her” Minhyuk said, with something that sounds like evilness glazing his words. He suddenly leaned into you. “I will show her” he said right into your ear, before moving to sit next to your friend, Seulgi, to show the text to her.

You didn’t just moved, you flew from your seat, reaching for his phone, hoping Seulgi hadn’t read any about it . “Oh no! You better come back before I kick your ass!” you whined to Minhyuk, as he kept shoving you off of him. But really, he overpowered you, and there’s nothing you can’t do except huffing in your seat, expecting a blow of teasing from both of your friends.

“Ooh~! Someone has a crush!” Seulgi teased as she finished reading the text. Your eyes widened. “Who said it was a crush?! I’m not a middle schooler!” You groaned.

Both of your friends chuckled at that, as if sensing lies in your words. “I bet you were actually dying to talk about him” Minhyuk said. You scoffed quickly, and you felt like it was too quick. “I bet you were dying to talk about him, but I really got to applaud you for having so much self restraint” he said followed by a laugh.

Seulgi laughed at his remark. “Well, clearly she lost it there for a moment” she said referring to the earlier incident. You felt your blood rush to your cheek, as you feel another wave of embarrassment at the memory of it.

And then you saw it. Namjoon and the girl got up from the seat. You saw her slipped her hand into his easily. And he didn’t complain nor look uncomfortable. You tilt your head in confusion really. Did Namjoon has a llover all this time?

And for a moment you were panicking, because what if he heard the conversation? What if his girlfriend heard it?. And just like that, you were dreading to go home, and basically curse in your head at the fact you just have one last lesson of the day before you can finally go home. It was funny considering you were ecstatic about going home early this morning, but now, you just feel like moving to another country.

And finally, the time that you dreaded come. You internally groaned at yourself. Neither of your friends had finish lesson. And it means you have to go home, alone. You would wait for them, but you didn’t want to wait for another four hours. You’re not a big fan of staying in the campus for so late.

And now here you were, walking down the street that you know very well is the way to the place you called home. Well, the place you currently rather dread to go to. And so you took a detour, to the library near your apartment.

The only reason you went to the library was, you need somewhere silent and serene. You were desperate to take some naps without having to be confronted. Not that Namjoon will scold you for taking nap. But at the moment, library is the only plausible place to do that. And beside, after you woke up, you could maybe finish your essay with the help of the books in there.

You took a seat at the very back of the library. It was almost hidden by the high shelves. It was perfect for people who doesn’t want to be found or disturbed. You randomly picked a book as your disguise. You placed your things on the table, next to your head, that you rested on the table, with your hands as a makeshift pillow.

After finally what you felt like hours, you finally woke up. Feeling a little bit more refreshed now that you’ve napped. You stretched your arms out, feeling the blood had flow again. You reach for your phone to check the time out. And it seems like you’ve slept for two hours more or less. You got up from your seat to return the book you took before, as you took the book you really need for your essay, and return to your seat.

It’s like the nap was the best nap you ever took as you found yourself easily doing your essay, your thoughts flow easily. And you felt like a champ in that moment, just for simply doing your essay.

Time flies so fast when you’ve focused on something. Because as your eyes took a slight glance to the clock on your laptop, it was already late, almost 9pm. The grumble in your stomach proven just that. Hours of brainstorming really took a toll on you and your now drained energy. So you packed up your things and head back home.

And the thought of the confrontation you oh so feared of really flew passed your head.

You quietly entered the passcode to your apartment, carefully stepping in, tiptoeing even. The house was quite, and you suspect that Namjoon is either out or sleeping. But judging by the man shoes that were placed next to yours, it seems like Namjoon was here.

The lights in the living room was on, revealing Namjoon who was sitting on the couch, with what look like pizza on the coffee table, and honestly, if you weren’t feeling awkward, you would totally snatch one. He was scrolling through his phone when the sound of your arrival was heard. He put down his phone on the table and sit straighter.

“Hey, why were you so late?” he asked, curiosity peeking in. His voice stopped you in your track. You were like a deer that caught in a headlight, or at least, that’s what it seems to you.

You rubbed the back of your neck. “Uh, I was doing my essay?” you said. And you hoped to god that it was convincing.

“…where?” he asked. You were really wondering why he was asking so many questions when usually he will let whatever your excuses go, because really, usually neither of you care enough about each other to dive in deeper.

“The library near our apartment?” you said, your head tilted a little bit. Honestly, you were flustered at the amount of attention he had on you. Maybe because there’s only the two of you in the house at the moment?

He suddenly got up from his seat, walking towards you. And you can hear yourself screaming ‘Oh no!’ inside your head as he towering over you. “I-I’m sorry” he said, eyes staring at his feet, or your feet, you weren't sure.

“Uh… what for?” you asked. Because honestly, the incident earlier doesn’t quite come to your mind for some reason.

“I probably embarrassed you earlier” he said. “I’m sorry, I'm just… surprised” he added.

And the incident finally came to your mind. The memory of it makes you hoping that the earth would open a hole just to swallow you whole. “Ah… It’s okay, don’t worry about it, I should be the one that apologize, you were probably got scared off” you said, mumbling the last sentence, followed by a light chuckle.

“No, no, no, I’m sorry, I should’ve greeted you back but I just stayed silent like a fool, and you were probably got embarrassed, because if I were you, I would too, and I would probably feel like a fo-“

“Namjoon” you cut him off, not wanting to hear him blaming himself over nothing.

He finally closed his mouth and looked at you. Eyes wide opened. “Yeah?” he asked.

“It’s nothing, don’t blame yourself over it, but if you really want to apologize, I’ll be more than thankful if you offer me that pizza” you said, nodding at the direction where the pizza at.

“Pizza? Ah… that pizza, please have some!” he offered.

You mentally do a victory dance. You walked towards the couch, putting your bag on the carpet and your laptop on the table before you took a slice of the pizza. It’s far from healthy, but as soon as you took a bite, it’s like angel had come upon you and take you to the heaven. You quietly hum in contentment.

“Have you ate dinner?” Namjoon asked as he took a seat beside you, at the other end of the couch.

“I’m eating it right now!” you said, barely audible as you were munching on your second slice of pizza. “And I’m really hungry, so I hope you don’t mind if I finish this heavenly pizza” you continued after you swallowed.

“Of course not, please have it, I’m rather concerned at the fact you forego your dinner, because pizza is not a dinner y/n” he said in as a matter of fact tone, making you rolled your eyes playfully.

“Oh! By the way, I didn’t know you have a girlfriend?” you asked. You really didn’t mean to prey on his private life, but your curiosity got the best of you.

“Girlfriend?” he asked back in confusion.

Now you were flustered. Then who the heck was that?. “Uh the girl you were with? At the cafeteria?” you asked, as you took another slice, not wanting to show whatever it is that you tried to hide in your voice.

“Ah… she was my cousin! She’s a student there too, I think she’s 2 years below you? Or at least that’s what I remember” He said followed by a shrug. “But why were you curious?” He suddenly asked, eyes intensely staring at you, making you almost choked on your pizza.

“Don’t get me wrong mister! My friends are curious too to my defense!” You said after you swallow your pizza. And now that you mentioned your friend, you remember about your conversation, and how you so hope that Namjoon didn’t hear any of it.

“Are you sure?” Namjoon asked, a playful smirk on his face. God, you really wish upon the earth to just swallow you whole in that moment.

“What were you doing anyway at my campus?” you asked, averting the focus, well, that’s what you were trying to.

“Taking this certificate that I got from doing competition” he answered nonchalantly.

Before he can switch the focus again, you abruptly got up from the couch, taking your belonging with you. “It’s late! I’m going to sleep!” You announced as you quickly walk towards your room. Not without Namjoon hot on your tail screaming, “Were you jealous?”

A few days had passed. Everyone in the group chat were having fun announcing they had finished their essay. And yet, you were still stuck with a chapter left. And that makes you can’t enjoy the fun. But what was worse was the anxiety that starts bubbling up at the fact that among your friends, you were the only one that hasn’t finished the essay.

You were honestly exhausted. Your brain can't be forced to be productive that day for some reason. You were extremely feeling exhausted. No matter how long you’ve been staring at the screen of your laptop, nothing comes to your mind what to type next. Even after reading some books for reference, you couldn’t focus on more than two sentences.

Tears of frustration were brimming in your eyes. You just really wanted to finish the goddamn essay. And you felt like you were failing, once again. You’ve been sitting on the same spot for hours, you can feel your butt is hot, legs are stiff and so does your neck.

A knock on the door doesn’t even shook you from your concentration on nothing at all. Whoever saw you at the moment would’ve thought you were just an empty shell of a human without soul.

A gentle and concerned voice however woke you from your trance, made your head shot at whoever was there.

“Are you okay? You haven't been out of the room for hours now” Namjoon said, concern was lacing his voice and face. He apparently had let himself in after getting no response from you. “You haven’t eat any meals, y/n” he added.

You just shook your head. “I’ll eat it once I finish” you said shortly.

He sighed as he walked towards you. His figure towering over you. Truth be told, you were a little bit intimidated under his stare. You looked up at him. Eyes questioning him. “What?” you asked.

His eyes stare right onto yours. “That essay won’t be finished by itself if you can’t think y/n” he said nonchalantly. You groaned in response, knowing that very well. “Eat, being hungry makes your brain stop working” he said in a commanding tone.

“Well sir, first of all, you’re not-“

Your words were being cut by him grabbing a hold of your hand. You were confused at his action of seemingly dragging you from your seat by his grab.

“Namjoon? What are you doing?” you asked, as you helplessly follow him seeing how he is much stronger than you. You knew he’s working out these days. And this moment remind you of how much you need to work out.

“Well miss, we are going to feed your poor stomach some food because apparently the owner is misbehaving” he teased.

You groaned again at him, head shaking at his antic. “Come on! I’m not five!” You whined at him.

He chuckled like as if a kid was sputtering nonsense at him and he was just playing along. “Well, you acted like one” he said. “Let’s go, wear your shoes because I’m taking you out, my treat!”

You really do end up having a great time thanks to him. Despite you whined at your lack of effort on dressing up, that he said was fine.

“You know what? Dress up or not, you are still pretty to me” he said nonchalantly as he took a sip of his coke.

And oh god you swore on your life you almost choked on your milkshake. He really said that without a care like as if it wasn’t just made you a blushing mess.

“Are you okay?” He asked as he handed you a tissue.

You take the tissue from his hand, cleaning the little mess you made as you shook your head. “Yep! Totally! Like as if you weren’t just casually call me pretty!” You said.

Suddenly a ruffle on your head stop you in your track. Namjoon leaned closer to you before whispering in your ear, “were you shy?”

You hit his arm, playfully so he knows you weren’t some violent maniac. “I bet you are good at bars!” You said.

“Well, I clearly am” he said, hinting at the incident that happened before, before he winked at you.

You gave him a stare before you shook your head in disbelief. What a character you thought.

After some nice meals that he paid for, you both head back home. Your tummy felt rather nice after being starved for so long and then being fed with delicious meals that you countlessly thanked Namjoon for.

You both had a little chit chat here and there as you walk. He promised to help you with your essay till you finish it. Despite your protests because you know he was searching for a job and he must be busy as well, but he insists. That way, he can help you on balancing your campus life and your part time to pay your rent and your foods.

And just like he promised, he helped you on your essay. And remind you to take some breaks in between, not wanting to push you so hard to your breaking points. He had been there before, knowing how hard it must be for you.

One study session later though. It was a particular day for you. You didn’t have any class. So you spent it on your essay. Working on it in the living room. You woke up early that day, believing that if you do it early, you might finish it before the day ends.

Namjoon who was just woke up and was walking out from his room was pleasantly surprised at the sight of you, your glasses at the tip of your nose, and you sliding it up once in a while. Your eyes focused at the task before you. He watched you from his place, and yet you haven’t noticed his presence. He quietly smiled to himself, fond of the sight of you.

He finally decide to move from his hiding place and walked towards the kitchen, greeting you as he walked passed by. “Good morning, y/n” he said.

You looked up from your laptop for a second, sending him a soft smile, and a quiet “morning!”

He sat on the carpet next to you after his trip to the kitchen, eyes reading the words on your laptop. He silently slide a bowl of cereal to you. You looked at him. The close proximity caught you off guard, and you had the urge to kiss his cheek but that would totally freaked him out so you decide to give him a fond smile and a thank you his way.

He smiled back, despite still having his eyes on the screen of your laptop. “I’m gonna take a shower and then I’ll help you with it” he said as he stood up from his place to go to the bathroom.

After some time, he freshly out of the shower, was walking back towards you. You really felt like a steamed potato next to him now that he looks so fresh and smelled so good, but when you’re focused, you couldn’t bother yourself to do anything but that.

“How are you doing?” He asked, eyes focused on your figure.

“Well, I’m almost finished! Thanks to you!” You said, you gave him a quick smile, before you avert your focus back to your laptop.

He sat beside you again, just like he did before. “Well finish it, and if I think you did well, you’ll get a reward” he said.

You stopped typing. Your head turned to him. “A reward?” You asked.

He nodded cutely. And you thank god you were able to hold yourself back from kissing him. “Yes, a reward, would you like that?” He asked.

You chuckled. “Well, that’s up to on what the reward is?” You said.

“Well, I hope whatever the reward is, you would like it” he said almost shyly as he rubbed the back of his neck.

You chuckled at his behaviour. “Well Kim Namjoon, I like any kind of reward as long as it’s a good thing” you said, giving him a wink before you focus back on your essay.

An hour passed. And you finally finished it. You let out a relief sigh. After weeks of doing it, you finally finished it and you couldn’t be more proud of yourself.

“I finished it!” You exclaimed. Giving Namjoon a slight hug as your excitement got the best of you. Namjoon chuckled, seeing you were so happy give him a burst of energy.

“Okay, I’ll check it, see if you did well and you might get a reward” he said as he took your laptop into his lap.

He carefully read it, words by words. And you worried he might finish by tomorrow looking at how many the pages there are. But thankfully, he only read start from the pages that he hadn’t read before on your study sessions.

After like half an hour had passed, he put the laptop back on the table. You nervously anticipate his critics and reviews on your essay. You felt like his opinion matter so much to you, but then again, he is the student that every professor likes, of course it matters.

“So how is it?” You asked, fingers fidgeting.

Namjoon stares into you. His expression was unreadable, making you even more anxious. “Close your eyes” he said.

Your expression changed into confusion. “What? Why?” You asked.

“Well, you would only know if you did well if you close your eyes” he said with a slight smirk on his face.

You were confused. But somehow, he convinced you into doing so. And beside, you would do anything to hear his opinion by now. And so you closed your eyes.

For a few seconds, nothing happened. And you almost opened your eyes again, if it wasn’t for Namjoon told you to close your eyes still or else he will just walk away.

“Namjoon would you plea-“

Your words were cut off. Let me correct that. Your words were cut off by another pair of lips that placed a gentle kiss on yours. To say you were surprised was an understatement. But it didn’t take you long to kiss the man before you back.

You placed your arms around his neck as you reciprocate his action. He deepened the kiss even more, as his hands traveled from your cheeks to your waists, pulling you even closer. He finally brought you onto his lap, and so now you sat on his lap, as your legs were around his waist.

You both pulled away as your lungs felt like it will burst if you hadn’t. You both gasps for breath. Smile was painting both of your faces. Your forehead was touching, and your eyes were still closed.

“Was that my reward?” You asked as you slowly opened your eyes, looking at his that has opened.

He gave you another peck on the lips, earning a giggle from you. “Well, I thought about taking you on a date, but I’m just so proud of my girl” he said.

You blushed at him calling you his. And you certainly let a little giggle escape from you. Happiness fill your chest. “Am I your girl now?” You asked, eyebrow raising.

“Well, if you want to” he shrugged.

You chuckled again at his words. “We literally just made out here Namjoon, I’m sitting on your lap for god sake!” You said. “But, take me on a date and I’ll consider it” you said teasingly.

“Well, go take a shower and dress up because I’ll take you to the best date of your life” he said before he gave you another peck.

It was your graduation day. Namjoon witness everything. From how excited you were that day when you woke up in his arms, basically shaking his body to woke him up to tell him how today is finally the day you graduate. To turn the excitement to nervousness as you did your hair and makeup, feeling how real it is now.

He had to hold you from time to time, reminding you that he was there, with you, and for you. And what matter most is you, his baby, is graduating today! And he was so proud of you. And truth be told, Namjoon loving this moment.

He was by your side in your every step that day. From helping you to wore the dress with pastel colour that you bought specifically for this day to the academic dress that you wore over it. He let you held onto him as you got into your heels

He felt a sense of pride seeing you in it. He swore he felt tears in his eyes seeing you, beautiful from head to toe, making him all proud.

He can’t help but pull you into his warm chest before you both leave. His chin resting on top of your head. You silently enjoying the hug you were in, his presence bring comfort into you.

“Baby” he called. “I’m so proud of you”

You smiled against his chest. You let go of the hug to look him in the eyes. “Thank you so much, if it wasn’t you who helped me, I wouldn’t be able to do it” you said, sincerity pouring from your heart.

He ruffle your hair gently, not wanting to ruin it. He kissed the tip of your nose. “Oh no, you would still be able to do it with or without my help, my opinion into it however makes your seeing in your work more clearer, you are smart y/n, your intelligence is one of the thing I love about you” he said, voice almost barely audible if it wasn’t for the close proximity.

You playfully hit his chest. “Now this is ridiculous coming from someone who’s beyond smart!” You giggled. “Thank you for the compliments anyway!”

He looked into your eyes. “God, I love you” he said with all sincerity. His eyes soft and gentle.

Your heart melted. You gave him a soft smile. Your heart was melting and soaring at his declaration. “I love you too baby”

It was at the hall of the campus. Everyone were celebrating with their loved ones. Taking pictures of the day that will certainly will be engraved in their mind forever. You smiled at the happiness that seem to surround you.

You took pictures with your best friends, Minhyuk and Seulgi, that had helped and will always help you to go through so many ups and downs. Promise of always staying in contact were made.

You took pictures with your parents. Without them, you won’t be here probably. The proudness in their faces make your hardships feel worth if. After all, your parents’ proudness means so much to you. You hugged them both, promise to make them even prouder in the future.

You took pictures with Namjoon. Without whom you probably won’t finish your essay. You looked at his side profile before reaching in to kiss his cheek. His eyes stared right into yours, fill with love. You hugged him and promise to give him the love and support he deserves.

You were so happy you have all these people in your life.

After the ceremony ended, you all decide to part ways as your parents had to go back to their offices. Your friends had decide to spent it with their partners. And that left you with Namjoon. Not that you were complaining.

You really can’t keep your hands all to yourself. How could you when you are just so over the moon. And Namjoon can’t help but beam too. He swore he was almost happier than he was during his own graduation. Your happiness was radiating to him.

And now that leads you to this moment. He was kissing you with so much passion, you felt like he really took your soul to another dimension. His hands all over you, can’t seemingly keep his hands to himself either. You both pull away to catch some breathes.

“God y/n, I wish I can show you just how much I love you” he said.

“Well, nothing stopping you, we have the time all to ourselves” you whispered into his ear, making his hold on your body tightened. You whimpered at him, making him groaned.

“Well baby, let me just act it out how much I love you” he growled into your ear, earning a giggle from you.

And now there you both, in bed, all sweaty and out of breath, chest rising and falling, hearts full with nothing but love. You who were laying beside him, moved closer to lay your head on his naked chest, hearing how his heart beats loudly. Your arms were around him. Eyes closing, enjoying this very moment.

Namjoon’s hand reaching for the loose strands of hair around your face. He gently and carefully play with your hair, and then hug you tighter into him. The feeling of your body on him, your presence beside him, makes him feel so alive, heart is so full of love, it almost hurts.

“Y/n?” He called.

You hummed in response, not really having the energy to give him a proper response.

He felt like choking up out of sudden. His emotions overwhelming him. Feeling him tensing up under you, you immediately look at him, giving him your full undivided attention.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” You asked, concern blanketing your very being.

He shook his head as a smile made its way into his face. But he can’t help the tear that escaped from his eyes. “It’s just... I love you so much, and I’m so proud of you” he said, smiles so bright you were sure the sun was jealous.

You can’t help but smiled. If your heart was full of love, imagine how much it overflows with love now. You were literally so in love it almost hurts. “I love you too Namjoon, very” you whispered, as if trying to whisper it to his very soul.

He leaned in and gave you a kiss.

“And I’m so lucky to have you”

Thanks to

I would like to dedicate this page into showing my infinite gratitude to the people who had helped me completed and finished this essay, and had helped me to overcome the thick and thin, the ups and downs, of my university days. To you who I’m thankful for, to you who I’m always grateful for.

(1) To Professor Kim who had spared his time to oversee this essay and guided me along the way

(2) To my parents who had my back and support and love me unconditionally, my constant motivation in life, and whose support without I would be nothing

(3) My dear friends, who I always glad to have, to have my back, helped me through so many ups and downs, to cheer me up, and to be the people that always there for me

(4) And last but not least, to my love, Kim Namjoon, whose love, support, and help without, I wouldn’t be able to go through this, thank you for being there for me when I’m in the verge of giving up, because of your unconditional love and support, I’m here, your constant gentle rub on my back as you whispered sweet motivations into my ears will always be in my mind and my heart.

Sincerely,

Y/n.

97 notes · View notes

fourmisfitz · 5 years

Text

Drowse (Roger Taylor x Reader)

Summary: You need a quiet space to work, so you go to your best friend Rogers. You arrive exhausted, though you try to deny it, and Roger takes it upon himself to take care of you and get you the rest you so desperately need...

Setting: Current year because smartphones and some literature references, but London, England when Smile was still together and Brian and Rog were still studying at Ealing Art College. Imagine whichever Roger Taylor version you fancy, I just chose the Ben!Roger Borhap gif to prime you with that concerned emotion☺

Word Count: 4.6k

Requested? ✔

Warnings/Content: Just stocked up on fluff. It’s long but it’s just sweet:)

A/N: Hello lovelies! HERE IT ISSSSS, I’m totally writing this while running on 2 hours of sleep after two all-nighters in a row so, let’s hope tis good;) I was listening to ‘39 while writing the last bit, so if you wanna get in that sorta mood, like, go for it. This is my second fic posted on this account, let me know whatcha think! Something of this sort was actually requested by two followers, and I blended the requests slightly in a way that I think works well. One request was more open-ended where Roger takes care of you, and the other involved being at his place and ending up staying the night and something happens, which brings me to- no, there is no smut (because I actually have one coming out soon for that *wink wink*), but I hope it still leaves you satisfied, enjoy!

P.S. sorry it’s so long, needless to say I got carried away! ;)

And remember- feedback, feedback, feedback! Xx, Darc

Rubbing your eye with the knuckle of your thumb you let out a muted yawn as you leaned your head against the bus window. You were on your way to your best friend Rogers for the evening to work on an important school project. You both studied at the same college, but lived about 9 miles (15km) away from each other. Though you spent a lot of time together at one or the others flats frequently, lately school had been overwhelming to say the least. You’d been nose-deep in textbooks and research papers that never seemed to end, leaving you little time for socializing besides a few phone calls. After countless waves of sirens passing in your busier side of town, you had given up trying to write your paper in your small studio apartment and asked if you could come over and work together. Roger didn’t actually have much work to do, as his prof was a little less intense with the workload, but he was more than willing to lend you a quiet space to get some work done and catch up on one another, too.

You glanced down at your phone to flip through the songs Roger had recorded with his band Smile and sent to you. Roger, Brian, and Tim had been toying with some new rhythms and riffs, and Rog always liked getting your trusted opinion on how they sounded before going out and performing them at gigs. Though he was usually pretty stubborn to changing his sound, if you suggested it he would at least try it. He’s been doing this for awhile now - sending you them, seeing as you were his best friend and had an ear for good music, playing the piano yourself; a natural virtuoso.

Some riffs really caught your ear, others were merely pleasantly entertaining; it seemed none of them were boring, but they were missing something, perhaps some more excitement. You made note of the ones you really liked and would be sure to tell Roger when you arrived around 7pm.

For the time being, you slowly dozed off en route to his flat, but as the bus struck a pothole it shook you awake as you nicked the side of your head on the glass. Glancing out the window, you realized you were one stop away from your destination.

You got off and walked into the apartment complex that towered a measly 3 stories high. It was definitely different from your studio flat, which was located in a very dodgy area with alarming traffic swinging by all through the night. You buzzed the door for entry with a “Hey-” and paused to yawn, leaning against the wall, “-Blondie. Future-tooth-inspector. Rog. R-to-the-O-Geee. TayTayyy-” and were finally cut off by a loud buzz.

When you got up to his front door on the second level, he was already standing in the doorway, arms crossed, and hair disheveled as usual.

“Don’t you ever call me TayTay again.” but his face quickly formed a wide teeth-gleaming smile as he opened his arms for a hug. “Come here, love.” You smiled back, your smile not really reaching your eyes in your fatigued state as you dove into his chest. He was a solid few inches taller than you, making hugs protective and secure. His chest was warm, instantly making you content and his little muffled laugh was lulling you. Roger was wearing a smooth black button-up, buttoned up halfway, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. You let out a pleased sigh and he looked down at you nuzzled into his chest.

“ ‘You alright?” a half-laugh leaving his small mouth.

“Hm?” you asked, still hugging him tight, “Oh- yeah yeah,” you straightened up and snapped yourself awake with a head shake as he looked at you quizzically. “Yeah, ya goof” raising your voice a bit to convince him, playfully shoving his shoulder, “i’m just a little sleepy is all!” walking past him into his flat.

“If you say so.” He shrugged, dropping the thought and walking over to the kitchen.

You had plopped yourself down in front of the big couch - between it and the low wooden coffee table, a bag of textbooks and folders on the floor with you, ready to set up shop.

“Fancy some tea, bunny?” he called from around the corner, filling a kettle up with water.

Bunny - the nickname he picked up for you for always being so hyper and jumpy, never really able to sit still, a true opposite to your current demeanor, though. You leaned your head back to rest on the couch cushion as your laptop started up.

“Yeah! ummm-” you pinched your nose, feeling a headache rush to the surface. He had backed up from the kitchen to see you past the dividing wall, popping his head around the corner. “Orange pekoe, please!” eyes still closed, you called back, not realizing he was a few feet away from you. He paused for a moment and then resumed his meandering in the kitchen.

“Sugar?”

“Hit me with three!” you were in need of something extra sweet to wake you up.

You moved your hands behind your head, supporting your neck, elbows high. You blew a big short breath as if to get down to business, but your laptop was installing some updates, as it always seemed to do when you needed it most. You pulled out your phone and decided to scroll through social media for a bit while you waited, but the screen just hurt your head more, so you settled on resting your head in your arms on the table. Just for a minute. The kettle began to pop and bustle.

“Oh! By the way, did you get a chance to listen to some of the new material from the band I sent over?” After a few seconds of silence, Roger peaked his head about the wall again, seeing your face was buried in your arms. “Y/N?”

“Hm?” you perked your head up the slightest inch and shook yourself awake again. “Oh- yes I really liked, umm... the one with...” You were yet again interrupted by another oncoming yawn. “the one with theee.. guitar and, stuff.” Your voice was barely audible through the yawn. You fluttered a hand in his direction, drooping your head back into the dark space provided by your arms.

“Rrright...” he furrowed his eyebrows. The kettle threw pops of water inside it, bouncing off the metal and echoing throughout the flat. He wondered how long it had really been since you’d had a decent night sleep. He walked over to the couch, sitting down behind you and lightly placed a large hand on your shoulder.

“I’m up!” You snapped, throwing flexed hands up like a reflex. His hand was paused hovering above your shoulder in a bit of shock from your reaction. You let out a groan, leaning your head back against his knee.

“I’m sorry, I- I’m just so-”

“-I know.” he said in a low calm voice. He knew when you got tired like this - like anyone - you were bound to be more impulsive and emotional. He slipped one hand under your head to cradle it and cushion his boney kneecap. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look pathetically exhausted, Y/N.” he peered at you, running his fingers through your hair near your temple with the other hand, chuckling to himself at your puffy eyelids.

You rubbed your eyes and sat back up. You gently gripped the edge of the coffee table bracing yourself as you leaned into a deep yawn, “I ammm-muh,” agreeing. You lifted your head back up, wiping shy hints of tears away that had emerged from the stretch as you blinked into alertness, “but I have to finish this paper, Rog, it’s due in two days and I still have another one to start due in a week.”

“Well, then how ‘bout a walk? It’s cooled down a bit outside. Fresh air ‘oughta do some good.” He tried.

“A walk sounds nice, but I really can’t right now, Rog.”

Roger looked at you inquisitively as you went to type in your password to unlock it. After two failed sloppy attempts pattering the keys, you grunted weakly in frustration, “Well this is just great!” but then it turned into a quiet giggle. You glanced up at him smiling a bit deliriously. His faced was laced with concern as he scanned your goofy lopsided smile, the laptop serving another delayed ding and rejecting you entry. You seemed to be acting the same as you did when you were tipsy, all giggly and incoherent.

He didn’t mind looking after you, he quite liked it actually, having someone to get all protective over sometimes. He had taken care of you in many instances in the past, whether it was taking you home after you went too hard, too fast at a bar and was worried about prowling guys taking advantage, or when the seemingly kinder ones broke your heart; you always found yourself at his flat, welcoming you with open arms, movie marathons, tea and your favourite ice cream.

“Oops.” your head bobbled, eyes hooded and blinking at him through your lashes. You returned your gaze back to your screen for another hopeless effort, but just as you were about to type, your hands were shaking profusely. You started to feel a wave of dizziness occur. You began to drowse.

And at last, the tea kettle began whistling from the other room. He got off the couch and bent down beside you.

“On second thought, maybe we should get you ready for bed, yeah?” Though he offered a ‘maybe’, it wasn’t a suggestion, he decided on it. He reached out from his perched lowered stance to scoop either of his wrists below each of your underarms, lifting you back onto the couch for a moment as he stood back up.

“What? No, Rog, I’m- I’mm-” you were halted in your sentence by another stubborn yawn, “III’m fiiiiine-hh” relaxing your face. He just shook his head deciding to ignore your weak protest.

“Surrre you are.” He bent down to reach an arm under one of your legs.

“No Rog really I’m quite good honestly” you tried again, really trying to display your typical bubbly self, but you were so tired you instantly sunk into him and gave up as he swung his other arm behind your upper back to support your weight.

“ ‘For your own good, love.” Your arms instinctively wrapped loosely around his neck as he carried you ‘princess-style’ to relieve the kettle of its panic and then to his bedroom.

“But my paperrrr” you slurred, tilting your head back to see the abandoned laptop.

“It can wait.” He said assertively.

“Someone’s been working out,” you giggled, tapping the shoulder farthest from you. He just did a little snort at that, because of the randomness, and he knew he wasn’t exactly the buffest guy.

Hearing yourself say that showed you just how sleep deprived you truly were, because that was just a little weird. You leaned your head into the crook of his warm neck, his long hair tickling your cheek. You swore you could pass out in his arms right then and there.

He was so good at caring for other people, at caring for you.

He presented himself as this guy with a hard protective shell who mainly cared about his reputation as a good lay, shagging girls left, right, and centre, but you knew him for the softie he was, something he didn’t really let anybody else see.

He set you down on his bed, helping you pull the puffy duvet out from under your legs and lifting it to rest over your shoulders.

“I’ll go fetch your tea, be right back.” He assured.

You must have dozed off for a brief moment because he was back with a steaming cup the very next second. Roger flicked the dim nightstand lamp on and set your mug down on the coaster.

“Let that cool for a bit, darling,”

God, you’d never get tired of his husky, raspy voice, and hearing him say darling, the way it sounded so stuffed with care as it rolled off his British tongue.

You sat up a bit and leaned into the tufted headboard. For a small apartment that was home to a college student, his bed was the most luxurious one you’ve ever seen... guess it made sense why. He sat on the edge of the bed close to you. You glanced down at his exposed forearms, never really noticing how defined they were from all the drumming, as he placed a hand on your covered thigh.

“How long has it been since you’ve slept, Y/N?” his eyes finding yours. You shrugged, your guilty ones trailing away to the duvet below.

“I’on’know.” you lied. He brought a hand to your chin, his index finger knuckle tipping it up to return your gaze to his bright blue eyes.

“Have you been at least trying to fall asleep? What’s been keeping you up?” There was that look of concern again you’d become accustomed to whenever you found yourself in damsel mode.

“Well yeah, ‘course I have, I just...” he waited patiently for you to finish. The truth was that you had been working hard on school, but you had also just been dumped. You didn’t want to admit that though, because you weren’t even really officially dating the guy yet - it had only been about two months, and Roger and you hadn’t hung out in a awhile because of schedules, so you failed to inform him of the new lad anyway.

You huffed, “I got dumped.” you closed your eyes, not seeing his eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“Dumped? By who?” He moved his settled hand to be atop your own. You shook your head slightly. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, his voice low and husky.

“I didn’t want to make it a thing, and I felt bad for not telling you about him in the first place when it started becoming something.”

You also didn’t want him thinking there was something wrong with you, that there was some attribute or trait that drove men away, had he ever decided to reciprocate feelings for you. Which was a stupid thought and you knew it - you were best friends and he knew you. You also had kinda just been keeping yourself occupied with romantic interests in an attempt to chase your feelings for him away while he himself seemed occupied with girl after girl.

He cocked his head to the side. “Oh, love, that’s okay. I mean, we’ve both been so busy, you especially. I know how hard you work. Sure I’d like to hear about things but it doesn’t always necessarily have to be as they happen.” You’re eyebrows pinched, wondering how you got so lucky to have him as your best friend.

He passed you your cup of tea, “Should be cooled down enough now, there’s no sugar though.” You raised an eyebrow at him as you tipped the mug back against your lip. “Chamomile.” He rushed to explain shortly. You just sipped without a change in expression, waiting to hear more. “Nightmares, and all - you know how sugar heightens the-” He waved his hand around in front of him, searching for the word, “vividness and all...” he almost seemed... embarassed and sheepish, trying to act like it didn’t mean much, “didn’t want you waking up from some night terror or something.” He let out a half-laugh, taking a sip from his own mug, “Do you want to tell me what happened with this dumbass?” Followed by another sip to shut himself up.

“You remembered.” you noted, slumping back lower down the headboard, a little grin coming over your face as you clutched the warm mug.

“What’s that?” he raised his brows, licking his lip to catch a droplet of tea that dribbled.

“Just,” shaking your head, “didn’t think you remembered I got night terrors.”

He shrugged. “You used to get them pretty bad.” he recalled.

One night a few years ago, you had stayed the night at Rogers for the first time and he was awoken by a very panicked you, unable to fully wake up, and he just held you, shushing you as you quieted down and drifted back to sleep. You didn’t know about that night though. When he referred to it the next morning in conversation, you had no idea you woke him up at all, just that you had a bad nightmare and thought your leg shook and that was the end of it. You thought nothing of it and forgot about his mentioning of it when he played it off as “must've been a dream or something,” of his. Other times you knew you, when you would wake up alone at home from them, but you were never aware of his comfort being the reason you were able to stop panicking and lull back to a deep more relaxed sleep that night.

“Hmh. Anyway, about Dean,” another yawn, “maybe in the morning, Rog.” your weak, shaky arm resting the mug back on its coaster.

He perked up, “Dean, eh?” a grin widening across his face. You groaned. “He even sounds like an ass.” He shot you a wink, ruffling your hair as he stood up from the bed. “You’d better get some sleep, yeah? I’ll be out on the couch if you-”

“Wait!” you urged a bit too sudden, grabbing his wrist.

“Yeah?” He looked down at you, awaiting a response.

“Uhhh,” Shit.

“Wha’s up?” He turned his body to face you.

“Just... could you-... could you maybe stay in here tonight?” your voice trailed off quietly. “I just know I sleep better when I’m not alone, and-” he knew it too.

“Yeah, sure. If you think it’ll help.” A wave of relief came over you.

He unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it in a corner, walking over to his wardrobe to snatch a pair of pajama bottoms. “Do you want something comfier to sleep in than those tight jeans you’ve got on?” He also remembered they were tight...

“That would be great.” you laughed nodding, and he threw a pair of flannel bottoms at you, accompanied by a band tshirt.

You instantly began changing right then and there, not giving it a second thought.

“I like that one.” Roger noted, your grey lace bra now in full view.

“Roger!” you clutched your cotton button-up to your chest to cover yourself. You didn’t really care too much though, but you were so tired you just didn’t really consider walking the 5 feet to the bathroom to change.

He let out a boyish chuckle, “What?!” You swatted your shirt him, shaking your head with a little grin peeking out. “Nothing I haven’t seen before.” he went to undo his belt with a smirk creeping up, referring to the countless girls he’s been with.

“Shut it! I’m too tired to even- I just wanna go to-”

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry, Y/N. Really. I’m just pullin’ your leg.” You sighed. “I’ll give you your privacy.” he mocked, defensive hands held up near his shoulders as he exited the room to the bathroom.

You began to change, pulling his tshirt over your head. It smelled so good, with hints of musk and pine permeating off of it.

From the bathroom, Roger could see your reflection in the mirror. He went to close the door properly when he noticed to actually give you your privacy, but just as he was, he caught you reveling in the scent. You had the shirt on, but lifted it, the fabric held to your face, eyes closed. He smirked and rather than shutting the door to avoid attention, just stepped away so you weren’t in his view.

You slid off your pants, which exhausted you to the brim, leaving you out of breath. You could hear the water running as Roger brushed his teeth and such. You reached for the flannel bottoms he had offered you and pulled those on under the duvet. They were huge on you because of the height difference, but they were comfy, nonetheless.

Roger knocked on the bathroom door as he walked in to give you some warning. He was shirtless and wearing a similar pair of pants as you. Your body lay somewhere under the thick duvet, just your head peeking out as you lay on your side. He looked down at you as he turned out the bedside lamp. Your hair was sprawled out over the satin pillowcase, and there was something so mesmerizing about it.

You felt the other side of the bed sink as he moved the blanket back and climbed in. Instant warmth radiated off of his body under the covers. You, back in a sort of delirious haze, reached out and placed a small hand on the side of his head, petting his hair.

“Having fun?” he laughed, moving your limp hand off and placing it between either of your pillows by your head. You felt something lumpy underneath your palm.

“Is this-?” you yanked it from the far back position it was stuffed.

“What?” a now groggy Roger asked.

you gasped, it was.

“Aha!” you gleamed, a fist clasped around its fluffy body, “Beary Potter!” you squealed. It certainly peaked his attention.

“Y/N! Give it!” He ordered as you yanked it away from his reach, giggling.

Beary was Rogers first teddy bear, and you remembered him always needing to sleep with it, no matter where he was. He had a blue ribbon tied around his neck, and even in the dark you knew it was him from the familiarity.

Roger kept reaching as you sat up holding it far away from him in the air.

“Tell me Taylor,” you went on as he groaned, falling back into the pillow, defeated.

“Do your late night shags ever get the courtesy of meeting such a legacy?”

“That’s enough out of you!” he grabbed your wrist in one swift motion, causing you to lose grip of it as it dropped. Your giggles came to a halt. He sighed, grabbing the stuffed animal and setting it on his bedside table, out of your reach.

“Go to sleep, Y/N.”

You sighed and whined, slumping down to the pillow, now laying on your back.

“Oh Don’t tell me you’re not tired anymore.”

“I am tired!” you retorted. “I just-” you trailed off.

“Well out with it!” he pried impatiently.

“I’m scared...” you croaked, staring out at the black abyss of the dark room.

“To fall asleep?” his voice was a bit softer now.

Your exhale was enough of an answer to confirm that. He adjusted so he was closer now. A lot closer, actually. You could feel his warmth from all of his body right next to you, just shy of an inch away.

“Maybe.. I could help with that...” he offered in a whisper near your ear.

That caught you off guard, sending a shiver down your spine as goosebumps covered your body. He was right there but all of a sudden you felt freezing at the tiny sensation his breath had against your neck. You gulped quietly.

“How-” clearing your throat, “-how do you plan on doing that?”, the curiosity honestly getting the best of you.

And at that, you felt a hand reach over to your jaw, his finger tips just by your ear, turning you to face him. His fingers gently trailed down the side of your neck, before he stopped himself, retracting his hand back to his side.

Your face dropped in disappointment, though he couldn’t see.

The dark room let him forget who he was beside, not being able to see your face as a reminder - definitely not just some girl.

“Roger...” you breathed, completely unsure of how you were - or should be - feeling.

He exhaled through his nose. “Sorry.” he went to flip onto his side to face away, but you caught his shoulder, and slowly pulled it back down to rest on the mattress.

“No it’s... it’s okay.” He turned to face you. “Could you actually, um...” you inhaled and held your breath, “could you hold me, Rog?”

“Hold you?”

Oh boy, should I have even asked? We’re best friends and all but-

“Will that help?” he asked, genuine care lingering in his tone. There was a pause before he felt you nod as your head audibly moved on the pillow.

“Okay, love.” and you turned to face the other direction, scooting into his warmth as he extended an arm under your neck to rest your head on. He draped a secure arm over your waist and dragged his hand from the dip of your waist up your arm to your shoulder and back down again to try and relax you. There was that shiver again, but it felt so comforting.

“You’re alright, you’re okay.” he reassured, continuing to draw his fingers along your skin.

You let out the breath you didn’t realize you had been holding. A bit hesitantly, you moved a leg back to intertwine with his.

His leg jolted at first in surprise. “You’re freezing!” He exclaimed, barely louder than a whisper. But then he wrapped his leg with yours, making them a mess of limbs under the thick covers.

There was a pause for a bit as you settled into the comfort.

“Three days.” You croaked.

“Hm?”

You turned around to face him, taking a deep breath and letting it go against his chest. Your hot air gave him goosebumps as his arms settled around your new position.

“I haven’t slept in three days.” You whispered, nuzzling your face into his sternum.

He gave you a squeeze with his arms and held you closer, his grip securing you in his arms.

“Well...” reaching a hand up to run his fingers through your hair, instantly calming you down a hundred levels. “That’s about to change, isn’t it?”

Your nose let go of a short breath in amusement, reaching an arm under his and drawing circles on his back. After awhile, you felt yourself grow laden with fatigue, but you couldn’t get a song out of your head. “Roger?” your voice barely audible in the security of his hug. “Y/N, go to bed.” he insisted. “The one with the lyrics about the girls smile.” you murmured into this chest. A moment went by before you added, “That’s the one.” and continued tracing a few more shapes on his bare back before your hands fell limp in a deep sleep. “Well,” He kissed your head ever so lightly. “I’m relieved because that numbers about a special friend of mine.” but you were already gone.

That night, you had some dreams. You had good ones, bad ones.. terrifying ones even, but Roger was there. The whole night, he never let go of you, even when your body started nearly-convulsing in a REM sleep panic. Even when your nails dug into his back subconsciously from the fear propelling you out of stillness, he just breathed extra deep in the hopes of your lungs mimicking his inhalation patterns. Even when he woke up in the morning with just a measly half hour of sleep docked, he was still just as close to you as you awoke.

He looked down at you, your arm draped across his bare torso as he lay on his back, you basically a koala attached to him. Moving a stray hair that had fallen over your face, your eyes slowly blinked awake, lashes fluttering, and met with his blue ones.

“Morning, sleepyhead.” His raspy voice cooed, smiling at your sleepy state. You just squeezed him tight for a moment and settled your head near his collarbone as you lay on your side.

“Did you have a good sleep?” You asked with closed eyes, slowly seeping into a drowse again.

He tucked some hair behind your ear and replaced his hand on your upper arm with a deep breath.

“The best.”

You hummed in satisfaction, and went back to sleep, your little hints of snores drawing out a smile across his face you never saw as he finally did too.

Please let me know what you thought :”) I won’t know if my writing is good unless you let me know or offer ideas for what I could improve on as well as fic/blurb/headcanon requests! I appreciate all the support :) xx

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