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loverhymeswith · 2 years

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Hope Springs...| Rick Flag x F!Reader

Pairing: Rick Flag x Nurse!Reader

Summary: The day of Rick's discharge from hospital finally arrives.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 4,322 words

A/N: It’s done! My first completed mini-series. Thank you so much to everyone who has read this and taken the time to like, comment or reblog. It means the world to me. This part was emotionally draining to write! I hope you enjoy! Also, a huge thank you to @a-reader-and-a-writer for beta reading this and coming up with the title! You are an absolute angel!

Taglist: @reysorigins

Masterlist | One | Two

With Christmas and New Year finally out of the way, Rick’s discharge date has come around far too quickly. You’ve promised him you will absolutely be there on your scheduled day off to say goodbye, but it seems that fate is conspiring against you.

It starts with your alarm, or rather the fact that you forgot to set one. On its own, such an oversight wouldn’t have mattered. You still wake with an hour to spare before Rick is due to leave, and the hospital is less than thirty minutes from your house. Showering and dressing faster than you thought possible, you’re confident you can make it in time.

Of course, you haven’t considered the maintenance works that started on the main road into the city today, which is exactly how you find yourself stuck in fifty-minute tailbacks. Cursing your uncharacteristic lack of organisation, every single other road user and the state’s highways department for their impeccable timing, you finally pull into the hospital parking lot nearly an hour later than planned.

After barrelling through the corridors and practically skidding onto your ward, you intend to head straight for the nurses’ station, but the empty bed at the far end of the room is evidence enough. The ward has a stringent discharge policy, meaning patients have to be up and out by mid-morning.

You’re too late. He’s gone.

It hits you even harder than you could have expected, Rick’s absence. You’ve grown so used to seeing his familiar handsome face every day, those sparkling hazel eyes and the wide grin you’ve long come to suspect he reserves only for you. Distress and sorrow form a crack in your chest as you turn around to leave, realising you’re never going to see him again. You’re never going to feel those soft lips brush against your cheek again, like when he kissed you so unexpectedly as the new year dawned.

Walking back out into the reception area, you’re vaguely aware of Cynthia waving at you, but your senses are dulled by disappointment. Was he upset by your absence? The image of him sitting there, expecting you to show up, only to be let down… it constricts your heart like a poisonous vine, it crushes your lungs until it’s difficult to breathe.

Cynthia rounds the reception desk, coming to stand in front of you. Concern is written across her lined face as she takes in your gutted expression. “Did you come to see off the Colonel?”

You blink twice and nod.

“Funny story actually, they had to kick him out. From what I gathered he was waiting for someone. Told him to go wait in the cafeteria instead. Surprised you didn’t pass him on your way in.”

And just like that, your heart begins to beat again.

God bless Cynthia and her innate talent for knowing everything that goes on in this small corner of the hospital. Speechless in the best possible way, you wrap your arms around her in an unexpected display of gratitude, before heading back the way you came.

Retracing your steps with butterflies burgeoning in your stomach, you make your way towards the cafeteria, keeping your eyes peeled for any sign of Rick. It’s no easy feat in such a busy place, but he’s the kind of person that would be hard to miss.

You’re about to give up that small glimmer of hope, butterflies turning to dust, when you spot him hunched over at one of the tables in the cafeteria. You approach warily, noticing there’s a pen in his hand and he appears to be scrawling something down.

“Rick?”

At the sound of his name, he looks up and blinks a few times, as if he can’t quite register that you’re really here, standing before him. Slowly but surely, a smile creeps across his face and with it, something that looks suspiciously like relief. “You made it.” He scrunches up the paper and shoves it into the pocket of his sweatpants.

“You didn’t really think I was going to let you leave without saying goodbye, did you?”

“Well…” his smile turns to a guilty grimace, one that tugs at your heart strings.

“I’m sorry I was late,” you tell him earnestly. The knowledge that you nearly missed this, missed him, still leaves you somewhat breathless.

“You’re here now, that’s all that matters.”

Reaching to pull out the chair opposite, you hesitate when your attention lands on the two paper cups sitting on the table. “Oh – uh, sorry. Were you expecting someone?”

“Yeah, you.” He grins back at you and your heart flutters. God, how you’re going to miss that smile. “Told myself I’d buy you a drink if I ever got out of here. Hopefully it’s still warm.”

“Thank you.” You collapse into the chair, the adrenaline from your harried morning still coursing through your veins. “You know, I really wouldn’t have missed this, Rick.”

“Glad to hear it.” His hazel eyes sparkle and all you can do is watch as his large hands rise to cup his coffee. The realisation that he’s no longer your patient hits you out of the blue. What would it feel like to have those hands on your skin? His mouth on yours…

Clearing the lump in your throat, you try to focus on anything other than the heat that is rushing to your cheeks. “So, when do you fly back?” It doesn’t matter that he’s no longer your patient, you remind yourself. Very soon he’s going to be over a thousand miles away from here. It’s time to cut off the silly little seed of an idea that has been trying to take root in your brain, in your chest, for the last few weeks.

“Today.” His eyes drift to yours and you wonder what he’s thinking, if there’s the slightest chance he might be thinking the same thing as you. “They’re sendin’ a car for me.”

“They?”

“Work.” He scowls slightly at the mention of the people who put him in your hospital in the first place.

“So, you’re really doing it? Quitting, that is.” Your conversation on the roof is still fresh in your mind.

“Yep.” He takes a sip off coffee, and you will yourself to look away from his lips. “I must be mad, right?”

“After what happened to you, I think you’d be mad to stay.”

That makes him smile. “True. Always knew you were the voice of reason, darlin’. Or my savin’ grace, my guardian angel… somethin’ like that.” He shakes his head. “Don’t know that I would’a made it this far without you, ya know.”

This time, there’s no stopping the heat that spreads across your face. The implication that you’re anything at all to him is far too much to comprehend. Too much, considering he’s leaving at any minute. If only there was more time…

“You – you give me too much credit, Rick.” You’re all but a babbling mess when you finally respond. “The doctors – they saved your life. And you – you’re strong, you’re a fighter-”

He reaches out and covers your hand with his own, cutting you off mid-thought. “I ain’t just talkin’ physically.”

Just like that, you’re transported back to the early days of Rick’s stay. To the nightmares and the panic attacks. The insomnia that followed. Holding his hand through those sleepless nights, wiping his brow when he was wrecked with exhaustion and a nameless guilt.

“I was just doing my job.”

You’re not sure why you say it. Surely, you’ve moved past this. All those extra hours by his bedside, the clothes, the gift. It doesn’t matter how many times you try telling yourself you would have done the same for anyone else…

Once again, Rick reveals his uncanny ability to read your mind when he responds. “Pretty sure we both know that ain’t true.” His hand remains over yours and you can feel the pressure of his gaze as you stare down at the spot where the two of you are joined.

The air has become thick and heavy with need. The need to say something, to tell him how you feel. You’re opening your mouth, grasping so desperately for the right words to say, when something behind him catches your eye. From this position you have a clear view of the wide cafeteria window, which looks out to the pick-up point of the hospital. A huge black vehicle with tinted windows has just pulled up and as you watch, a man in a dark suit and sunglasses emerges. Your heart begins to hammer a nervous tattoo.

“Umm – Rick, would that happen to be your ride?”

He twists around to follow your line of sight and when he faces you again there’s a look of regret in his eyes. “’fraid so.”

Your own eyes sting with the threat of tears. So, this is it. The moment you’ve been dreading for weeks. The moment you finally have to say goodbye to Rick Flag. Because it doesn’t matter how much you might wish things could be different, or how much you might wish for something more. The two of you live very different lives. Who knows that the future has in store for either of you?

Rick’s hand slips from yours and the pair of you rise in unison.

You’re not going to cry, you promise yourself. Instead, you will simply allow yourself to be grateful for this small amount of time you had with him, a gift in itself. You will be grateful for the fact that you were able to make even a small difference to his life.

Rick moves out from the table, a small carrier bag of his belongings in hand, and comes to stand in front of you, so close you have to raise your head to look up at him. By now, you thought you knew him well, but it’s impossible to decipher his expression as he places the bag on the table and holds open his arms. Before you even know it’s happening, you find yourself drawn into his embrace. Your head falls against his chest, the soft cotton of his sweatshirt caressing your cheek as his arms wrap around you.

Rick dips his head. His lips hover close to your ear, so close that you can feel his warm breath tickling your skin. “I – uh – thank you. For everythin’.”

You squeeze him tightly, afraid to open your mouth because you’re not sure you can hold it together much longer. You can feel him slipping away from you with every passing second and like a lifeboat, he’s the only thing that’s been holding you afloat these last few months.

“Colonel Flag.” A distant voice snaps you out of the spell and reluctantly you pull away from Rick. The man in the sunglasses is standing by the entrance of the cafeteria, arms folded. You might not be on shift or in your uniform, but you can’t deny the wave of self-consciousness that comes from the stranger’s attention.

Rick clenches his jaw, hands falling to his sides. “Yes, I’m comin’.” He grabs the bag from the table and looks back to you. “Sorry sweetheart, wish we had more time.”

“It’s fine.” It really isn’t. “You should go.”

He appears torn, eyes flicking back and forth between you and the door. You’re no stranger to the internal struggle you see playing out across his features. Say something. Anything.

“Colonel, I really must insist. The plane-”

“Alright, goddammit. I said I’m comin’.”

His face softens as he looks at you once more.

You smile. It hurts, but there’s nothing else you can do, nothing you can say in the next five seconds that will change the fact that he’s leaving. “Be safe, Rick.” The words catch in your throat.

“You too, darlin’. You too.”

And then he’s walking away from you.

Rick looks back over his slumped shoulders just once before he reaches the door. You hold your breath, wondering if he’s going to stop, if he’s going to say something. But the man in the sunglasses takes the carrier bag from his hands and ushers him outside. You’re helpless but to stare, rooted to the spot, as he climbs into the car. With no one paying you the slightest bit of attention, you hastily wipe the errant tears that have silently begun to fall. Stupid, you think to yourself. Stop crying. It’s over. He’s gone.

You can’t face the thought of your own quiet drive home just yet, so you sink back into the chair and finish the coffee, a sad reminder of his presence.

Before you leave, something on the ground catches your eye. A scrap of paper - you assume this is what Rick was scrawling on before you arrived - has fallen onto the floor. You have no idea if it’s important, but it’s too late anyway because the big black car has long since pulled away. Reaching for the paper, you tell yourself you should just throw it away. It’s no doubt private and you shouldn’t pry. But it’s also the only thing you have left of Rick. All because you were too scared. Too scared to take a chance and tell him how you really feel. You glance down at the crumpled note in your hands and bite your lip. Temptation is a cruel mistress.

The note wears a hole in your pocket for the remainder of the day, but you wait until your errands are complete before pulling it out again. What’s the worst that could happen? It’s not like you’re going to see him again, anyway. Even if you wanted to – which you do, so desperately – you have no way of contacting him. Should you have asked for his number, or would that have been too forward?

Torn, your curiosity and your cruel mind eventually win out and you find yourself unfolding the scrap of paper with shaking hands. Instantly, your eyes are drawn to the name at the top of the page. Yourname. Your heart makes a valiant effort to climb out of your throat, but you swallow it down and remind yourself to breathe. Rick’s handwriting is messy and scrawls across the page like a spider dipped in ink, but you can just about decipher what it says.

Y/N,

I hope this note finds its way to you. I’ve never been much of a writer. I’m sure you’ve noticed by now I’m not very good with words. But it doesn’t look like you’re coming, and I just wanted to make sure you knew how I felt before I left.

I’m very aware that you’ve gone above and beyond what was expected of you when it came to taking care of me these last few months and I am eternally grateful for that kindness. Without you, I don’t know how I would have made it through. These have been some of the darkest days of my life, but you were always there, a bright star at the end of the tunnel, pulling me out into the light, whether I realised it or not at the time.

To be frank with you, my life is a bit of a mess right now. I’ve got a lot of shit stuff to take care of back in Louisiana and then I’m going to find myself unemployed. It wouldn’t be right for me to drag anyone else into that. But I want you to know how badly I wish things were different. You’re funny and intelligent and beautiful and I find myself thinking about you even when you’re not around.

I wish I could have told you this face to face, but somehow it feels easier putting this to paper. The words never come out right when I’m around you, so maybe it’s for the best that you couldn’t make it today.

Perhaps one day our paths will cross again when I don’t have all this baggage. But until then, just know I will always remember you and what you’ve done for me.

Thank you for everything.

Rick Flag

A single tear rolls down your cheek and drops onto the page, blotting the ink.

Three months later

Never before have you been so glad to see the first day of spring. The days are slowly but surely becoming longer, and the hospital gardens are blooming back to life. As your mother always says, everything looks better in the sunlight. You sincerely hope that turns out to be true, because the last three months have been nothing short of terrible.

After Rick left, it felt like the aftermath of a break-up, only so much worse because there had never been a relationship to start with. You don’t even know what you’d call it. Friendship, maybe? You carried his note around with you for weeks, dwelling on whether or not he realised he’d dropped it, or why he hadn’t just given it to you in the first place. He’d thought you weren’t coming when he wrote it, so what changed in his mind when you arrived? Perhaps he’d simply taken one look at you after writing all those things and realised they weren’t true.

But what if they were?

Lonely and red wine-drunk one evening you’d decided to look him up on social media. Honestly, it hadn’t been a surprise to find he didn’t exist. The leader of a secret task force was hardly going to have a Facebook profile.

After that sad night you swore to yourself you were going to move on. You couldn’t waste the rest of your life pining over a man you barely knew. With the help of a few well-meaning friends, you even signed up to the god-forsaken dating sites. It was no use though. None of your potential matches -few and far between - would ever come close to Rick.

It’s approaching early evening when you reach the end of your shift. Collecting your belongings from your locker, you call out a goodbye to Cynthia. The two of you have become closer recently. If only she would stop asking about “that handsome Colonel”.

“Wait!” She shouts after you, halting you in your tracks. “These came for you today.”

You spin around to find a huge bouquet of flowers on the desk in front of her – roses, to be exact. Not red, but hundreds of shades of pink and purple. Your favourite colours. But flowers? You don’t think anyone has sent you flowers in your life. Not even your own mother. “Are – are you sure?” You approach the reception desk, warily.

“Quite sure”, she hums from behind the bouquet. “Beautiful, aren’t they?”

“Who sent them?”

Cynthia shrugs, but there’s a mischievous gleam in her eye. Your mind wanders back to the last date you went on - three weeks ago now. You might have mentioned that you work here, but it certainly hadn’t gone well enough to warrant this. “Oh look, there’s a card.” Cynthia holds it out to you between her bright red manicured fingers.

Unexpectedly nervous, you turn it over and your heart leaps.

Meet me in our spot.

There’s no name, but there’s only one person it could be.

Caught somewhere between nausea and delirium, you hurry up to the top floor of the hospital. You’re barely aware of your surroundings anymore. Everything is too bright, too loud, as if you’re trapped in the middle of a lucid dream. Because this can’t really be happening, can it?

Quite frankly, you’re amazed you make it onto the roof in one piece. Your hands and legs, in fact every part of you, is shaking with fear. The fear that you could be mistaken. That this is just a dream. But you see him straight away. Standing by the edge of the roof, his broad shoulders taking up so much space. Even with his back to you, you’d recognise the shape of him anywhere.

“R - Rick?”

He turns slowly at the sound of your voice. Even in the dwindling light, you can see the way his eyes sparkle with recognition, with joy. “Hey darlin’.”

Your heart soars at the sound of his southern drawl, a sound you thought you’d never hear again. He looks good – so good – in his dark windbreaker and form fitting jeans. The breeze whips his hair, sending a few golden strands falling across his brow. Instinct is urging you to rush to him, but confusion and lingering doubt keep your feet rooted to the ground as a thousand questions flood your mind. “How - how long have you been waiting up here?”

“Not as long as you might think.” He grins. “Cynthia told me what time you’d be finishin’.”

“Cynthia?” There’s no hiding the surprise in your voice. No wonder the receptionist looked so pleased with herself as you left the bouquet with her and dashed up here. “You’re on first name terms?”

“How else you think I knew you’d be workin’ today?”

You shake your head, still not quite able to put the pieces of the puzzle together. “What are you doing here?” You glance around at the unusual surroundings. “I mean - in general, not specifically on the roof.”

Rick walks towards you, cautiously at first. His expression is guarded, as if he’s not quite sure you’re pleased to see him. Which is ridiculous of course because you’re over the moon. You’re just too surprised to show it. “We didn’t get enough time before.”

“Time for what?” You ask, waiting for the penny to drop. You feel stupid, like somehow you should know exactly why he’s here. Or maybe you already do know, you’re just terrified to let yourself believe it. Three months have gone by without a word. Why is he here now?

Before Rick can respond, the words burst from your lips. “I – I read the note.”

“What note?” He frowns for a moment. “Oh shit, that note?”

“I wasn’t sure if you meant for me to see it.”

He rubs a hand across his face and shakes his head. “I didn’t think you were gonna show when I wrote that. Thought maybe I’d got it wrong, but I couldn’t leave without tellin’ you, one way or another.”

You barely dare to breathe as he confirms your suspicions.

“Then you appeared, like some kind of angel. Maybe I hadn’t got it wrong, after all. And in that exact moment, I thought, to hell with baggage and leavin’ things up to fate. Decided that as soon as I got back to Louisiana, I would free myself from A.R.G.U.S. and then come straight back to you.

“Should’a told you there and then, but the car showed up and like I said in the note, I’ve never been good with words. Didn’t want to rush and dump this all on you... kinda like I’m doin’ right now.” He rubs a hand across the back of his neck. “I thought it was only gonna take maybe a couple of weeks to put things straight, but my boss… well, she didn’t let me go so easily.

“Never meant for it to take this long, I promise. But I’m finally free now. I guess you findin’ the note makes this a little easier - been rehearsin’ in my head all the things I wanna say to you on the flight over.” He laughs, nervously and your heart threatens to burst right out of your chest.

You open your mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. You’re too stunned to speak and, if you’re totally honest, still a little confused.

Seeing your reaction, his expression softens. “S’a lot to take in. I know.”

You shake your head. “What exactly are you saying, Rick?”

He edges closer to you, until you can feel the warmth radiating from his chest. Until you can feel the heat of his gaze as he stares down at you intently. “What I’m tryin’ to say, is that until I met you, I never realised what I was missin’. Never realised how incomplete my life was. Your kindness and compassion, your belief in me, it helped me realise there was more to life than killin’ for my country. You made me want to be a better man, and now…” he trails off.

“Now?”

“I know that I never want to spend another day without you.”

His admission is a beautiful blow to your chest. It knocks the air from your lungs and threatens to bring you to your knees; never did you truly allow yourself to believe he could feel this way. But you don’t have time to recover, because he’s staring down at you, fear shining bright in those hazel eyes as he waits for your response.

Right.

Now would be a good time to say something.

“Rick…” You reach for him with trembling hands, not only to steady yourself, but for reassurance that this is real, that he’s real. You clutch his arm. He feels solid beneath your fingers. This isn’t a dream. It’s really happening.

“Yeah?” On bated breath, Rick is still waiting, wondering. Has he got this all wrong? Did he read too far between the lines? Were you only offering friendship where he thought he saw something more? Maybe he’s made a huge mistake.

But your hands are tight around his arms and you’re looking at him with something akin to wonder on your beautiful face. When you finally speak, he can’t fail to hear the relief in your soft voice. “I don’t want to spend another day without you, either.”

Happiness erupts inside his chest like the fireworks you watched together in this very spot all those months ago. Joy now fills the once-barren cavern where his healed heart resides. A heart that belongs entirely to you.

“Good.” He huffs out a laugh. “You had me worried for a minute.”

And then he pulls you into his arms and kisses you as if his life depends on it.

#rick flag #joel kinnaman #rick flag x reader #rick flag fanfiction #colonel rick flag

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puppypeter · 3 years

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-----

Bucky should have known. He did know. When things seem too good to be true, they usually are. And Steve is the best thing that has happened to him in a long time, possibly ever, so of course it couldn’t last.

Maybe This Time (I Hope I Get The Chance To Say Goodbye) | 34561 words | Part 3 of Maybe ❄️

Steve and Bucky Barnes are happily married. They've made it through some hard times and come out stronger and happier, together. Then Steve gets called on to come out of retirement for the most important mission of his life and everything changes. Everything.

-----

“Have yourself a merry little Christmas…” Steve starts singing along softly, and Bucky chuckles, before leaning his head onto Steve’s shoulder, always happy when he’s in Steve’s arms.

“From now on, our troubles will be miles away…” Bucky joins in.

Dancing round their living room, just as in love as ever, their troubles seem light-years away, if not non-existent.

Sadly, they’re closer than they think.

The Unexpected Gift | 9504 words | Part 1 of When Winter Comes 🐕

Steve Rogers is fine.

After ending a long-term relationship with Sam Wilson, Steve moves back to New York. He's tired and lonely but depressed? No. At least, that's what he thinks.

From the window of his apartment, he watches a dark-haired man and his service dog sitting in the park, wondering what his story is.

The Winter Storm | 2218 words | Part 2 of When Winter Comes 🐕

"If I could give you one thing in life, I would give you the ability you see yourself through my eyes, only then would you realize how special you are to me."

After Bucky and Steve confessed their feelings for each other, life has its own twisted way to challenge the most profound love.

One January Night | 4213 words | Part 3 of When Winter Comes 🐕

Before going back to work, Steve Rogers still has things to learn: 1- Depression is a bitch and the battle against it isn't an easy one. 2- Dating a person with disabilities comes with its share of challenges.

Bucky Barnes Has His Shit Together (And Other Lies He Tells Himself) | 14159 words 🔒

You’d think a guy who owns one of the most successful bakeries in Brooklyn, has a million-dollar smile and that antiquated good ol’ boy charm, blond hair and blue eyes and biceps for days, would know what’s what.

But don’t let that fool you: Steve Rogers is a mess.

Obvious | 917 words ☕

"Oh, I have a prompt! So, it makes me laugh how painfully obvious Steve and Bucky's feelings are to everyone when they're in that pining, slowburn, does-he-doesn't-he phase. But imagine Steve and Bucky working in a coffee shop together and constantly bickering, nudging and playfully flirting with each other. And all the employees and patrons are so invested in their relationship and just want them to kiss already but no one realizes that Steve and Bucky have been married since they got out of HS."

#stucky #steve rogers/bucky barnes #bucky barnes/steve rogers #stucky fics #stucky fic #stucky fic rec #stucky fic recs #stucky fics rec #stucky fics recs #stucky fan fiction #stucky fiction #stucky ao3 #stucky complete #stucky au #adorable stucky fics

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jisungsplatforms · 3 years

Text

Pairing: Yang Jeongin x fem! reader

Genre: fluff, bits of angst, and smut at the end; non idol au, friends-to-lovers

Word Count: 10k (idk what happened either, please don’t look at me like that 👁👁)

Warnings: Mature Content ahead! (yk me, always gotta add some spice) Strong language, mentions of alcohol and intoxication, PIV, (implied) first time, fingering (f rec), cum eating, protected sex.

Note: This fic is brought to you by the @binniesthighs anniversary collab! 🌹🌹🌹 I hope you guys enjoy this story (cause I definitely got carried away writing this, whoops) And of course, since this is a collaboration between other talented writers, be sure to check out their fics as well under the #celebratethemthighs tag, you won’t regret it!! // Taglist: @minniehohos @arohabangtan @cloudyybinin @yoriiisstuff //

Amidst the cacophony of noise in the café, there was a man quietly sitting in the corner of the room. His name— Yang Jeongin; a young, handsome man… who looked like he was about to lose his shit. In Jeongin’s 20 years of living, NEVER would he have thought that his heart would pound wildly under the presence of his best friend—the same person who witnessed every single gross, embarrassingly pathetic moment in his life, but here he is now, stomach wrenching in anxiety as you reenacted how your day went.

“So then Brian had to help me rewire the entire system!” you huffed, throwing your hands up in wild gestures. “Just how incompetant do you have to be to misplace every single wire?! Red plug to the red ringed input thingy, yellow plug to the yellow input and so on! It’s not rocket science!” Before you could fully lose your anger, you took a few sips of your drink to cool down. Noticing that Jeongin was spacing out, your eyebrows creased in worry. “Hey, are you okay?”

The sound of your voice snapped him out immediately, only now did he realise that he zoned out during your rant. “Oh, yup! Of course I’m okay! Why?”

“I don’t know, maybe cause you’re staring at me the same way you did when you had your first kiss with that cockroach,” you laughed, remaking the exact expression he made that day. Jeongin hid his face, groaning.

“That was such a traumatizing experience,” he shivered, the dramatic-ness of his reply drove you into laughter.

“No but seriously, what’s wrong? You’ve been a little quiet this whole time.”

Jeongin’s heart raced. What am I supposed to say? ‘Oh nothing big, I’m just nervous cause I’ve been madly in love with you since we were kids’? He sucked in his lips, fiddling with his fingers. “I don’t know,” he stuttered, “I guess I’m just really happy to be in your company again, that’s all.”

Your eyes softened. “Aw, I’m sorry, Innie,” you pouted, reaching over to hold his hand, making his heart race. “It has been a while since the two of us hung out, huh?” Jeongin let out a shaky breath, eyes lingering on your entwined hands. He looked up, faking a sad pout.

“Duh. Ever since you started hanging out with your radio show friends, we don’t spend as much time anymore. I miss you, you know?” The second his last words spilled out, he panicked. Fuck fuck fuck. Why did you say that?! he thought as his face turned red in embarrassment. However, if Jeongin wasn’t so busy beating himself up, he would’ve noticed how flustered you’ve become. The simple 7 letter phrase sent your heart racing—though there was another 7 letter phrase you’d much rather hear from him. In an attempt to cover up your true feelings, you chuckled, pinching his hand before you let go, much to Jeongin’s disappointment.

“Come on, you don’t really miss me that much? Don’t tell me you don’t have any other friends other than me, loser.”

He huffed. “Of course I do have other friends. It’s just that they’re not my best friend, aren’t they?”

“Aw, it’s okay baby,” you grinned. “If you really missed me that much, you could’ve just called and I would’ve made time for you. You know I always do!”

“Yeah, I guess, but I didn’t wanna bother you! You have been busy lately so—”

You rolled your eyes. “I told you countless times before: I’m never too busy for you, Jeongin.”

He stared at your face for a bit before breaking out a huge smile. “Thanks, Y/n.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re my favorite dumbass, what would I do without you? You know how boring my life would be?”

“Nevermind. I take everything I said back.” The two of you laughed for a few seconds before resuming back to your own tasks. You looked back down to your notepad, staring down at the highlighted markings on your script. Jeongin watched your eyes darted back and forth from said script to your notepad, wanting to gaze upon your stunning face a bit longer. After a few minutes, he begrudgingly tore his eyes off of you, hoping that you hadn't noticed his stares. As his brown orbs trailed back to his spiral notebook filled with mundane notes, a plethora of messages erupting from his cell phone caught his attention. Immediately, he dropped his pen to read what was the gossip his friends wanted to talk about today.

His eyes scanned through the seven new messages sent by 5 of his friends; texts about Jisung telling everyone to bring a date to their party, Hyunjin and Changbin arguing that Minho “didn’t count”, Jisung complaining and saying that he wasn’t going to bring Minho anyways, and Minho saying he’d take Seungmin instead, to which the latter strongly disagreed to. Jeongin muffled his laugh, covering his mouth to stop himself from interrupting your train of thought—which was useless for it only made you even more curious. Shaking it off, you merely sighed, continuing to scribble down your notes with furrowed brows. Meanwhile, Jeongin, who was now holding his phone with both hands, decided to join in on the conversation. Despite only taking his eyes off of the screen for 30 seconds, there were already another eight messages from the rest of the guys. Jeongin laughed, reading messages of Minho and Seungmin bickering about their script for a radio show. He wanted to crack a sneer joke about the divorce couple when the thought of you flashed his mind, giving him an idea. ‘Can I bring Y/n tomorrow?’ he texted, resulting in the guys sending messages of approval (in the form of some weird ass emojis).

With the okay of his friends, he dropped his phone with a slight bang, slightly startling you. “So, are you—uhm—planning on doing anything this weekend?” Jeongin asked, twirling the strings of his bracelet nervously. You stopped writing and looked at him. Moving your pen away from your notepad, you brought it closer to your mouth, not noticing the sheer layer of sweat coating his forehead. You hummed in thought, mentally going through your schedule.

“Hmm...Nope! I think I’ll be free, why?”

His eyes sparkled in delight, mentally fistbumping the air. “Cool! I was wondering if you wanna go to a party with me!”

Immediately, you cringed. “A party?” you drawled. “Yikes. Whose party?”

“Hyunjin and Jisung are the hosts! They wanna celebrate the end of finals week, and the school year, in general, ‘as a reward’ or something. It’s gonna be at someone else’s house though.”

Parties? A gathering of more than 10 people who get together to drink, fuck, and other potentially illegal stuff? Yeah, that’s a hard ‘no’ for you. If it were just going to be the 9 of you, then you wouldn’t have minded but knowing how well known those guys are, there will definitely be more than 9 people there. You frowned in slight disappointment, thinking that he was going to invite you to hang out with him—only him. Just the two of you. But instead he offers you to a party? Knowing full well how much you despise parties, especially with people you don’t know? You grimaced. “Mmm...I’ll think about it, man.”

“Come on! Please? You said you’d go!” Jeongin pleaded.

“Whoa whoa, hang on. I told you I’m free; I never said I’d go to a party with you!”

“Please, Y/n?” he pouted. “I don’t like parties either but I already promised them I’d go!’

“Jeongin…” you sighed, “You can’t go making promises you can’t keep.” You went back to your notes, marking the end of the conversation. The air grew silent between you two. Looking up, you noticed Jeongin’s sullen expression. Feeling guilty, you let out a sharp exhale, catching his attention. “I’ll go,” you whispered.

“Really?” he exclaimed, eyes widening in surprise. “You don’t have to, if you really don’t want to.”

“It’s okay, I felt bad for declining. You looked like a kicked puppy,” you snickered. “Besides, anywhere I go is only fun when you’re around. You know that, don’t you?”

“Hi, guys.” Jeongin greeted tiredly, locking the door behind him. In the kitchen, there was Hyunjin, Jisung, and Changbin, all huddled up around the stove like cavemen discovering fire for the first time.

Jisung was the first to acknowledge his arrival. “You’re late, honey,” he teased, not making eye contact. “Too busy sucking Y/n’s pretty face?” Jeongin’s visage turned into the bright shade of crimson. He spluttered in embarrassment, trying to explain that he could barely even look at you in the eyes anymore. Thankfully, Hyunjin was there to save him. God bless you, Hyunjin! The taller male smacked the back of Jisung’s head. He clicked his tongue. “Stop it, Jisung. You know he’s sensitive to that topic! It’s not nice to rub in the fact that he’s too chicken to confess to her!”

Jeongin groaned, throwing his bag onto the floor, next to the couch. Yeah, I take it back. God, please curse those two. He muttered, “You guys are all jerks.” Fortunately, no one heard him. Changbin snorted, hitting the two stooges on the back of their heads.

“Anyways, welcome home, kid,” Changbin turned around to talk to the younger. “We’re just making ramen. Grab a bowl, it’ll be done in 5 minutes.”

“Thank you,” Jeongin muttered. He brushed past the huddle of toned bodies to grab a bowl and a pair of chopsticks from the respective places. “Where are the others?” he asked quietly.

“Chan stayed behind to add some finishing touches for our track, Felix went grocery shopping, and you know where the other two went,” Jisung answered, glancing back at Jeongin for a brief second before returning his attention back to the boiling pot of instant noodles.

Hyunjin then turned around, striking a flamboyant pose. “Kiss the Radio,” he whispered in the same manner they do for the intro. The boys, with the exception of the youngest, chuckled; Jisung lifting his palm for a high five, to which Hyunjin took. Jeongin silently sat at the table, blankly staring down at his bowl. Changbin, being the observant older brother he is, immediately caught onto his friend’s gloomy behavior. He pulled a chair for himself, sitting across from him.

“Talk to me, what got you so moody on this lovely Friday evening?” Jeongin, being the emotional teen he still is, refused to tell him at first, in fear that they’d laugh at him. He grumbled, fiddling with the chopsticks in his hands. Changbin tsked, somewhat disappointed that the baby of their friend group felt the need to close off his worries from them. “Come on, you can tell us. You know we’ll always be here to help you out and give you advice.”

The younger finally sighed. “It’s Y/n again,” he murmured, cheeks reddening at the thought of you. Jeongin briefly looked up at Changbin, continuing his speech when he gave him a subtle nod to continue. “I—gosh guys—I feel like I’m going crazy! We finally hung out, just the two of us, for the first time in almost a year, and I felt like I was going to...I don’t know, pee myself!”

“Luckily you didn’t!” Hyunjin tried to cheer Jeongin up, resulting in a nudge from Jisung.

“It’s been so long since it was just us, I forgot how nerve-wracking it is to be alone with her and ended up gawking like an idiot! My hands felt so clammy, my eyes bounced everywhere except at her, everytime she talked to me, and my stomach felt so twisted and empty. I felt so unprepared, it was embarrassing! Best friends shouldn’t be scared to be in each other’s presence!”

“Well best friends aren’t in love with each other,” Changbin smirked. The red in Jeongin’s cheeks amplified, resisting the urge to hide himself.

“Changbin! That’s not funny!”

The elder threw his arms up teasingly. “Just saying!”

Jeongin lets out an exasperated sigh, rubbing his face with his palms out of stress. “Guys, what should I do? I can’t keep doing this! I need to tell Y/n I love her before I regret anything!”

The whole kitchen was dead silent. Every single one of them were gathering up their brain cells in order to brainstorm some good ideas. All of a sudden, Hyunjin’s face lit up, as if he had an eureka moment. “I know!” he said, pounding his fist against his palm. “Did you tell Y/n about that party we invited you to?” Jeongin nodded with a skeptical ‘yeah’.

“Good! At that party, why don’t you pretend to be drunk in order to confess to Y/n? You know, if she doesn’t feel the same way, you can just blame it on the alcohol!” The three boys stared at him as if he had grown a second head.

Jisung was the first to break the silence. “Dude,” he began, “that’s fucking smart!”

“What?” Jeongin asked incredulously.

“Yeah, you should totally do it like that!” Jisung walked over to Jeongin, leaving Hyunjin to prepare the ramen himself. He wrapped one arm around the younger’s shoulders, smacking his chest with the other. “The sooner, the better! And that way, you can finally get your feelings off of your chest and she won’t renounce your 12 year long friendship!” The longer Jeongin thought about it, the more tempting the plan was. Poor, easily persuaded boy...

“NO!” Changbin intervened. “No no no. You’re doing it all wrong!” He sighed, setting his drink down onto the table. Getting out of his chair, he stepped closer to Jeongin, pushing Jisung out of the way and placing his own hands on his shoulders. “Listen. If you want a sure fire way to confess your feelings to Y/n, then I say you should just man up and tell her— without the use of alcohol or lying. Do you really think you’d be satisfied if you followed that dumbass plan?”

“Hey! It’s not dumb!” Hyunjin cried, slowly waddling to the table with the pot of ramen steaming in his hands.

“Yes, it is. And that’s exactly why you two are single.”

Jeongin stared at the ground sourly, now thinking of other ways to successfully reveal his true feelings to you without embarrassing himself. “Whatever,” Changbin smirked. “Hey, isn’t Y/n one of the hosts in that radio show you guys were talking about earlier?”

“Kiss the radio?” Looking back up, Jeongin tilts his head in confusion.

“Yeah, that one. And don’t they do that segment where they have confessionals or something?”

“Yeah…? Where are you going with this, Changbin?”

The elder rolled his eyes with an exasperated sigh. “So...Confess to Y/n through that!”

Jeongin’s heart dropped. He could already feel his palms sweating in fear. There is no way he is going to declare his love for his best friend in front of thousands of listeners. “I can’t do that,” he stuttered in pure panic. “That’s a really popular show! One person is enough for me to lose my crap, but in front of a bunch of strangers?! I might have an aneurysm, man! Or worse!”

Changbin sighed, finally releasing his grip from his shoulders. “Hyunjin’s really rubbing off of you, huh?”

“Again. Hey!” the said man pouted. Jisung, on the other hand, noisily slurped his noodles, enjoying that his best friend was getting picked on instead of him.

Brushing Hyunjin off, Changbin continued, “Confess to her, yeah, but under like, an alias or a code name that only the two of you know! Declare your undying love to the love of your life but still keeping it on the downlow. Easy!” He clapped his hands in triumph as he uttered his final word. The other two boys let out an amazed “oh” in unison, dropping their chopsticks to give their eldest friend a round of applause. Changbin held his palm up with a curt nod, signaling for them to cease their clapping as if he were the president of Korea. With his jaw dropped widely in awe, Jeongin’s eyes sparkled. That’s...brilliant! he thought. He gave Changbin an excited smile, ready to thank him for his help. Just as he opened his mouth, the shorter man turned back to him, lips twisted in a smirk. “No need to thank me, I know I’m brilliant,” he boasted, sticking his chin up high. Suddenly, he sighed. “Be careful, you might feed into my ego! I know I’m an amazing bro, but you don’t have to rub it in!”

“Okay, you know what, Bin?” Jisung snorted. “You’re way too cocky for someone who’s only 167 centimeters.”

“FUCK OFF!”

…For the rest of the night, Jeongin spent his free time in his room, brainstorming what to write in his love letter. However, he couldn’t produce anything that satisfied him—and the evidence lay in the mountain of discarded paper in the trash bin next to his bed. He sighed out of frustration, palms rubbing against his tired eyes. Damn it, I think I need help…

He snatched his phone from beside him and unlocked it, immediately going to the messaging app. He scrolled down until he found the exact contact he was looking for. Tapping on the number, he swiftly brought the phone to his ear, hearing it ring several times before someone picked up. “Chan? Are you busy?”

The line was quiet for a few seconds until Chan’s voice was registered. “Never too busy for you guys. Why?”

“I need advice.”

“About…? You know I’m just in the room across yours, right?” Chan softly giggled.

Jeongin awkwardly chuckled, face reddening. “Uhm. This is kinda embarrassing for me to talk about face to face so I’ll just settle with calling…” he said as he fidgited with his ear.

“Ah, understandable. In that case, go ahead!”

“Hypothetically speaking, you want to write your feelings, let’s say, love, down on a piece of paper. What exactly do you write?”

“Oh?” There was clear mischief laced in Chan’s tone. “Well Jeongin, this is more of a subjective matter. There are a ton of things you can write in a love letter; it could be a bittersweet one, a romantic one, or even a more platonic one for your friends! It all depends on what you want to say deep in your heart. Doesn’t matter if you use simple vocabulary or Shakespearean language, as long as you are conveying YOUR LOVE through YOUR OWN WORDS, that’s all there is to it. If you’re going for the more, uh, romantic approach, you can talk about how strongly you love this person. Simple but nevertheless meaningful—nothing could go wrong! Just let it flow naturally…Get it?”

“I think I do…Thanks Chan!”

“Any time! Oh and good luck with Y/n! I’m rooting for you buddy!”

Jeongin blushed, hastily telling Chan ‘thank you’ before ending the call and locking his phone, sliding it back to its original spot. Now that he had a better idea of what to write, he did not feel as antsy. After ripping another sheet of paper in half, he picked up his pen once more to write. Without the pressure of making his letter “flawless”, his thoughts were now able to flow effortlessly through his pen and onto the parchment. His hand moved like it was on autopilot, it was as if his heart had taken over. He was so sucked in that in no time, the entire half sheet was filled with lines of his love. Setting the pen down, he picked up the paper to read what he wrote, face glowing red once he finished.

‘Oh my God, is this too much? This kinda doesn’t even sound like me? Will Y/n know it’s even me?’ Shaking off his doubts, he folded the paper into halves three times, slipping it into his bag pocket and leaving it there until the weekday rolled around. Grabbing his phone, he launched himself onto his bed, pulling his blanket over his body. He squirmed around for a few minutes before shutting his eyes, drifting off into slumber.

The morning came around quickly and the whole day was a blur for Jeongin as the night quickly approached. He anxiously sat on the dining chair, fixing himself for the 8th time that night. “Dude,” Jisung randomly popped up from behind, startling the already antsy boy. “You look like you’re trying to hold in diarrhea. Relax! It’s just Y/n!”

Felix came in right behind Jeongin’s other side, scaring him as well. “That’s easy for you to say, you’re not the one in love with her.”

Jeongin rolled his eyes, slightly embarrassed, and completely unaware of your arrival. “You guys—”

“Y/n~! Hi!” Hyunjin greeted, running past the trio to you and wrapped his arms around you, leaning to give you a kiss on your head. You cringed, squirming to get out of his grip.

“Ew!” you laughed, “You reek of alcohol, Hyunjin! Get away from me!” Seungmin then appeared beside you, helping you unlatch Hyunjin from you. He jokingly pushed the latter away from you, teasing him that you don’t like socializing with tipsy people. Hyunjin pouted, walking off to bother Minho.

“Thanks, Min,” you grinned.

“Any time,” he shrugged, returning your grin. “Didn’t think I’d see you at a party?”

“I could say the same for you! You hate parties more than me.”

“Yeah, but the thing is, I’m one of the hosts, unfortunately. What’s your excuse?”

“I’m here to accompany my best friend!”

“Oh?” Seungmin raised his brows. “Speaking of…Are you ever going to tell him?”

“No!” Your voice dropped, eyes widening. “He cannot know I have feelings for him. Not yet, at least!”

He raised his arms up in a surrendering stance with a smug expression. “Okay, okay! Just saying! And if you do decide to confess, I’ll be here to cheer you on! Me and the rest of the guys!”

You giggled, “Thank you, Seungmin!”

On the other side of the house, Jeongin sat there, stressed. “I’m telling you, Jeongin!” Jisung said, now tipsier than a few minutes before. “If all else fails, you can also fake being drunk! It’s smart! If she returns your feelings, happy ending! If she doesn’t, not so happy ending, yeah, but you can just blame it on the alcohol and just make up whatever excuse. Foolproof!”

“That is anything but foolproof!” Felix said in disbelief. “Please don’t do that, Jeongin! Just be honest with Y/n. That would be a foolproof plan.”

The youngest furrowed his eyebrows in thought. “Hmm…You're right. This is a dumb idea.” He smiled at Felix. “I should just be honest with her! Thanks, Lix!”

Wanting to go over to you, Jeongin turned back in time to witness you throwing yourself into Seungmin’s arms, you kissing his cheek as Seungmin blushed. His heart dropped— jealousy brewing inside. After an internal debate with himself, Jeongin finally came to a conclusion. He placed his cup down on the counter and turned back to where you and Seungmin were at. He messed up his clothes and put on a ditzy face, swaying back and forth in the same manner he’d seen his friends do. He already reeked of alcohol and was tipsy enough to pull through with this stupid plan. Nothing can go wrong...right? “Oh no…” Felix muttered exasperatedly, realizing that Jeongin was in fact pulling through with the plan while Jisung cheered on the side.

He dragged himself into the living room , stumbling close enough to where the two of you were at. “Y/n!” he ‘drunkenly’ sang, launching his body onto yours. “I miss you~!” He tightened his arms around you, relishing the feeling of your warm body in his arms, and how perfectly you fit in them. Jeongin could feel tears picking his eyes, wishing he could enjoy this feeling without ‘being drunk’.

You stumbled, caught off guard. “Jeongin?” you stuttered. “Are you okay? What’re you—?”

He whined, “Why are you hanging out with Seungminnie? Aren’t you supposed to be with me? I’m supposed to be your date tonight, not him!”

“H-huh?”

“Y/n, I think he’s already drunk,” Seungmin spoke softly, stifling his laughter. “I think he had too much to drink tonight, you think you can take him home for us?”

“What? Uh, sure but I don’t have the keys to your house.” From behind, Jeongin whined, rubbing his face against your nape. Your face grew warm out of shyness, body writhing from the tickling sensation. Unbeknownst to you, Jeongin used that opportunity to inhale your familiar scent. He was internally applauding himself for how well this is going. Good job, Jeongin! And thank you, Hyunjin!

“Don’t worry about that,” Seungmin said. “I think it would be better if he stayed with you tonight. It’s safer that way, is that okay with you?”

You stared at the man in front of you, mouth opening and closing like a fish. “I don’t know if—“

“Y/n!!” Jeongin cried from behind. You turned your head to look at him, only to find his face close to yours. Way too close. You couldn’t decide if you wanted to move even closer or away from your best friend. Your lips were right in front of each other; the perfect distance for them to connect from just one move. You stared into his eyes, speechless, as Jeongin stared into yours. “Please…” he whispered huskily. His tone sent delightful shivers down your spine. If it wasn’t for Seungmin standing right there, you probably would’ve lost it.

Flustered beyond relief, you whipped your head back to Seungmin, who was giving you a mischievous look. “I—uh…” your voice cracked. You coughed, swallowing as much saliva as you could to do something about your dry throat. “I’ll take him. No worries!”

“Perfect! I’ll see you guys tomorrow then.”

“Y-yeah, see ya’,” you grunted as you wrapped your arm around Jeongin, adjusting his weight so that you won’t fall. You left the house, struggling to drag Jeongin to your car. Luckily I decided to drive myself tonight, you thought. You stumbled to pull your keys out and unlocked it, clumsily pushing Jeongin into the front seat. Hearing him wince in slight pain triggered you to say sorry. Buckling him into the seat, you checked him once more before going to your side of the car. As you started the car, you mentally prepared yourself for the potentially long night ahead.

…The entire 45 minute drive consisted of Jeongin singing at the top of his lungs, much to your amusement, and him constantly complimenting you, calling you beautiful and whatnot—but you’re never gonna admit how much his inebriated praises made you flustered. You finally arrived at your house, parking as close as you could to limit the walking distance. Hoisting Jeongin out of the car, you slammed the car door shut, the car honking once when you locked it. Struggling, you groaned for the umpteenth time that night, cursing your best friend for being so damn lanky. “Holy shit, Jeongin, when did you get so tall?”

Jeongin ‘drunkenly’ giggled. “Sorry~!” he sang. Grumbling, you dragged yourselves to your front door and unlocked it, which was not an easy task to do with a drunk 172 centimeter tall man clinging around you like a leech. You kicked the door open, doing your best to remove your shoes. Once they were off, you reached over and flipped the light switch on to safely navigate your best friend to your bedroom. Everyday, I thank myself that I live in a one story house, you thought, twisting the doorknob to your room and opening it. You ungracefully push him to your bed, the impact making Jeongin grunt.

“Crap, I’m sorry, Innie,” you cringed. You unfolded your blanket and draped it over his body. Your wasted friend looked up at you with tired eyes.

“Where’re you going?” he slurred. You brushed his hair back, pouting.

“Sorry, Innie, I can’t stay here with you tonight. Don’t worry, I’m just gonna be in the living room. You’ll be okay, right?”

Jeongin sat up with a pout, coaxing a few pity tears out of his eyes. “N-no…” he whimpered. “I want you to be with me, Y/n! Please?” Your heart churned at the sight of his pleading state, cooing sadly when you noticed his eyes glossing over. Dear Lord, I am not your strongest warrior.

“Okay fine, I’ll stay,” you tiredly agreed, making him smile and cheer victoriously like a little kid. “I still need to go back to wash my face, I’ll be back soon! Think you can wait for me?”

Jeongin childishly saluted. “Yes ma’am!”

You laughed. “Good boy!” you snickered, petting him like a dog. He laid back down, pulling the blanket over his nose and closed his eyes. You stayed for a while to play with his dark hair, eyes sadly lingering at his resting form.

“You know, Innie? You act exactly like you did as a kid when you’re drunk.” you quietly said, brushing his bangs back. “I remember the exact day you walked into that classroom and introduced yourself to the class as ‘baby fox’,” you giggled at the silly memory. “Little eight year old me thought it was weird but kinda cute…Who knew I would ever become best friends with the little fox boy? Since that day, we spend every waking moment together; I was there for you when you first got your braces, you were there for me when I first got my period, shit, I can’t imagine how terrifying that was for you! I remember you crying and screaming so much cause you thought I was gonna die…your parents had to give both of us the talk once I was clean…”

You stifled your laughter. “Man, eleven year old us were kind of idiots, huh? Wow, it’s really been 12 years since we met. We’ve really been through so much…I think the day my perspective of you changed was back in freshman year of high school. I got rejected by this guy I really liked and you were there to comfort me the whole night…Every person I had a crush on, every single one of them rejected me, and every time, you were there to comfort me…It made me think, ‘why do I need anyone else when I had you by my side?’…That epiphany really opened my eyes.”

You paused, watching his face for any sign of consciousness. Seemingly getting nothing, you continued. “That’s why—gosh, this is embarrassing, you’re not even awake to hear any of this…Though, I guess that’s exactly why I’m just letting out…idiot…” Your hand moved to his face, thumb softly stroking his cheek. “Yang Jeongin…I love you. I hope one day, you feel the same way I do…”

You brushed back his hair and kissed his forehead. You let out a melancholy sigh before turning to leave. Meanwhile, Jeongin’s heart was soaring. Y/n…you—she likes me! Y/n loves me back! He debated whether he should tell you that feeling’s mutual or if he should just keep pretending to sleep and talk about it the next morning. Of course, he shouldn’t waste this opportunity, couldn’t he? As Jisung always says, the sooner the better! “Wait!” Jeongin abruptly sat up, scaring you. “Come back, I’m not actually drunk!”

Your heart froze, body stiffening at the realization that Jeongin heard your confession. Fuck, no no no! “You’re not…Jeongin, stop lying, that's not funny! Just go to sleep already!”

“I-I’m not lying!” he cried, “I’m really not drunk! I faked being drunk so—”

All you could do was stand in shock. Fear, embarrassment, betrayal, anger, and relief swirled your mind, the storm of emotions overwhelming you so much that you didn’t listen to a thing Jeongin said. A thick fog of silence filled the room. You stared blankly at the man on your bed. “So…you’re not actually drunk?” you whispered.

“Never have been.”

“So that means…you were conscious…when I literally struggled to bring you here…and I told you I love you…”

Jeongin blushed. “Y-yeah. I—”

“Get out.”

“Wh-what?” he froze, guilt starting to fill his chest. He could clearly feel the twisting in his stomach. “Y/n, why?”

“Get out! You lied to me!” your voice raised in anger. “Jeongin, you tricked me!” You stomped over to the bed, ripping the blanket off of him. You grabbed his arm, roughly pulling Jeongin off.

“Y/n—”

“Jeongin, do you know how humiliating this is for me?! You—you basically took advantage of me!”

“What? No! But—you know I would never do anything bad to you!”

You scoffed. With a red face, you pushed him out of your room, trying to kick him out of your house. “Jeongin, that’s not the issue! The fucking issue is that you LIED. I—shit—you caught me off guard! I told you I love you cause I thought you were fucking asleep!”

He dropped his weight as much as he could in an attempt to stop you from shoving him. He spun around to face you. “I-I don’t see what’s wrong with that! Y/n, I lo—”

“NO! JEONGIN, PLEASE!” you screamed, tears pricking your eyes. “I’m so fucking embarrassed. I wasn’t ready yet…I didn’t want you to know yet, especially like THIS! Th-this wasn't how I wanted to tell you…” Losing your strength to fight back, your arms dropped to the sides. You stared at the floor, humiliated, wishing that he would just leave so you can sort your feelings out. “Jeongin…Please just leave…I’m a mess, I can’t deal with this right now. Please go home.”

Sorrow etched his face. How could he have known how much this plan would hurt you? If only he knew…he wouldn’t have done it. Jeongin stepped closer to give you a hug but stopped when he heard your quiet sobs. His heart broke knowing that those were tears that he caused. He bit his lip, stopping himself from crying. Muttering a shameful ‘sorry’, he turned to the door and walked out, leaving you to break down on your own.

…Jeongin bursted through the door in clear distress, startling the guys that were in the living room. “Guys I fucked up! I fucked up so bad!” He ran inside, looking for Changbin.

“Whoa whoa whoa, what’s wrong?” Felix asked from the couch, tightly clutching the bowl of cereal in his hands.

“I messed up. I did the thing Hyunjin suggested and it backfired! She’s mad at me! She hates me now! I blew it guys!”

“Hey hey, calm down. Y/n does not hate you,” Chan gently said from the kitchen, putting his doughnut back on the plate. “You’re her best friend, there’s no way she’d ever hate you.”

Changbin, the only other person awake and the one Jeongin desperately wanted to talk to, clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Told you so! I knew something would go wrong, I told you not to follow them! But what did you do? Listened to their plan!”

“Changbin!” Chan scolded.

“I’m only stating the obvious! He messed up, yeah, what’s done is done, but he can still fix it! We can help you fix your relationship, Jeongin!”

Jeongin plopped onto the couch, sitting beside Felix, clutching one of the cushions. “You sure?”

“Hell yeah! You still have that note, don’t you?” Changbin walked over to Jeongin, rubbing his shoulders to console him. The younger could already feel some of the pressure in his body lifting.

“Ah, you mean that love letter you wrote for Y/n?” Chan asked, smiling now that he remembered about it. Felix sat in confusion, trying to follow along with the conversation, mouth full of cereal. The older Aussie grinned, telling Felix that he’ll give him the details later.

Changbin snapped his fingers. “That,” he said, pointing to Chan, “You still have a chance! Once she reads that letter, she’ll instantly forgive you, tell you that she loves you too, and boom! Happy ending!”

“If you want,” Chan sang, “I can help you give the letter!”

“Oh yeah, let’s go! Chan personally knows YoungK, he can give the letter to him. Come on!” Changbin stood front of Jeongin, pulling the younger out of his seat. “Now! Now!”

However, Chan stopped them. “Uhm, yeah, sorry guys but not now. It’s late and Younghyun is mostly sleeping at this hour, let’s do that tomorrow, instead!”

“Okay, fine,” Changbin huffed. “Get the others to help too!”

“Ha~ppy, happy Monday, everyone! It’s everyone’s favorite host, YoungK, along with my favorite little minions!”

One by one, you all greeted into the mic.

“Hello everyone, it’s Seungmin in the building!”

“Hello, it’s LeeKnow~!”

“Hi hi, guys, it’s Y/n, and welcome back to—”

“Kiss the Radio!” the four of you cheered together, you and YoungK clapped while Minho hollered. It’s nearly been two days since the party and the little incident that happened that day. The entirety of your Sunday consisted of you sorting out your thoughts and ignoring every single one of Jeongin’s texts. Did you overreact? Mayhaps, but it was a perfectly appropriate response for confessing your 8 year long crush on your best friend after he basically lied to you. Feeling your anger bubbling inside, you took a quick sip of water to control yourself.

“Okay! For today’s show, I decided to switch things up a bit!” Brian, announced, putting on his signature ‘dj show host’ voice. “If you did not know, Haven University, which is the school my little minions attend, is nearing the end of it’s semester! Which means that their internship is ending today, so this is their last day!” The three of you whined exaggeratedly, yelling how you wanted to stay, how you wished it didn't have to end, etc. “I know, I know, I wish you guys didn't have to leave either! You three made this show much more fun and exciting, which I am very much grateful for!”

“It’s because you’re such a great host that you made this experience the best, YoungK,” Seungmin said as you and Minho agreed.

“Aw shucks guys. You guys are too sweet! Maybe, if possible, you guys can come back as permanent hosts!”

You gasped, “Oh my God, that’d be so awesome!”

“Right! Anyways, instead of having our whimsical chats first, I wanted us to go through the advice segment first. That way, we can get the more deeper stuff out of the way so we have more time for fun! Is that alright with you guys?” The three of you let out a cheery ‘yes’ in unison. “Great! In that case, Lee Know, would you like to read the first submission?”

“Yes~” Minho drawled. He stuck his into the clear container and pulled out a certain piece of folded line paper. Briefly clearing his throat, he murmured a sweet ‘okay!’ before beginning, not even recognizing the handwriting.

“Hello, my love. Sorry, is “my love” too strong? How about “darling”? Or rather, would “sweetheart” suffice just as well? Well, none of that really matters since I am too much of a coward to actually call you any of that, does it?

Love, loneliness, fear— emotions I never would’ve thought I’d feel when I am around you. Even if we are together 24/7, I can’t help but feel like we’re still too out of touch. The longing glances, the sparks I feel when our hands touch, the pounding in my chest when you smile at me—it’s getting more and more difficult to contain my feelings for you. Friends don’t typically feel any of that, do they? No, they do not. Oh, how much I crave to be more than just a friend...

That Title…Why does my heart hurt when you call me that? A͟ F͟r͟i͟e͟n͟d͟. Am I selfish for feeling this? Why can’t I just be satisfied with being friends? I can’t help but crave for more. I feel like a lovesick fool. Hopeless. Lost. Loveless

One day, hopefully soon, I will gather the courage to reveal my true feelings for you. But for now, I will just have to settle with nothing more than just a friend. I will just continue loving you from the sidelines until the day comes…even if that day may never come….I love you, Y/n. I have and will always love you…From IN”

The studio was hushed once Minho finished. You could feel three pairs of eyes staring at you in pure shock but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You knew in your gut who that letter was from. “Wow! How bold!” Brian gasped, breaking the short silence, “A confession? On live broadcast?! This is the first time we ever got something like this. This person sure is bold, Y/n, they must be serious about you!”

“Yeah…Wow,” you stuttered, stiffly chuckling. You looked over to where Seungmin and Minho were at, asking if they had any knowledge about the note, which they denied, completely oblivious to the note. Minho grabbed his phone to text you. ‘We knew he was in love with you, but we had no idea he’d do something THIS bold,’ his message read. ‘Frankly, I’m proud!’ You looked at Minho with a nod to thank him. Seeing how you were still in the middle of a broadcast, you decided to brush it off for now and worry about it later. You continue through the segment, reading a few more letters before cutting off for a break.

“And that’s all we’re gonna read for today, everyone! Now let’s listen to some of the most recently released songs to brighten our mood!” A song immediately played, mics switching off the exact moment. Brian then turned to you with a serious look. “So,” he dragged, sending you a teasing look, “are you gonna go to your admirer or…?” You stuttered, slightly confused by what he meant. “I think we all have an idea who the message is from. Look, I know this is your last day here, but I don’t mind you leaving if you wanna talk to that friend of yours to give your answer. Love is more important than some silly talk show!”

Your shoulders slumped, feeling guilty about leaving. “But, I feel bad. I can’t just leave! I can just give my answer later!”

Seungmin patted your back, wordlessly urging you to go. Minho, however, was a lot more verbal. “The two of you waited years for this to happen,” he scolded, giving you a parent-like glare. “Now that you finally have some progress, you’re gonna let it sit aside? Just go! We’ll cover for you, Y/n!” You glanced over the other two men once more and earned their okay, Brian shooing you like a cat. You thanked them all, removing your headset and grabbing your things, rushing out of the recording studio. They all cheered for you. “Good luck, Y/n!”

You sprinted as fast you could to his dorms, apathetic to the weird glances scanning your wild figure. Was it dangerous to run around like a maniac as the sun set? Probably, but you couldn’t care less. What was supposed to be a 30 minute walk from the radio station to Jeongin’s house was easily achieved in less than 20 minutes. You nearly slammed yourself against the front door, frantically knocking on it. “Jeongin!” you shouted, “Jeongin, please open up!” You continuously pounded your fist onto the door until it finally swung open, nearly causing you to hit whoever was behind it.

“Y/n?” Changbin stood there flabbergasted. Before he couldn have the chance to ask you what was wrong, you beat him to it.

“Where’s Jeongin? I need to talk to him!”

“Sorry but you missed him, kid. He went out not too long ago.”

“Really?” Your shoulders slumped, annoyance filling your chest. “Damn it!”

“Yeah, sorry, he didn’t tell anyone where he was going. If it helps though, I saw him run out that direction—” he said, pointing to his left, “—like a maniac earlier. I think he might’ve gone to your house. You should probably head there now just in case.”

Your irritation was short lived, quickly replaced by sheer relief. “Oh gosh, thanks, Bin!” you beamed, giving Changbin a tight hug. He chuckled, patting your back as returned the hug.

“Jeongin really does love you, Y/n,” Changbin said quietly. “I’m rooting for you both. Good luck!” You smiled, tightening your arms around him.

“Thank you.” You let go and dashed off to your house. Even if exhaustion was starting to kick in, you pushed yourself past your limits, driven by Jeongin’s love letter; you’ve waited far too long to stop now. You finally arrived home, chest heaving from running for the past 30 minutes. You whipped your head around in search of Jeongin, mentally screaming when you didn’t see him outside. You jogged over to your front door, thinking he might come over later. Reaching into your bag, you grabbed your keys and unlocked your door, ready to somewhat relax. However, instead of coming home to an empty living room, you were met with your best friend sitting right in the middle of your couch, holding a little bundle of light purple and white flowers in his arms. “Jeongin?”

He stood up, the tissue paper around the flowers crinkled as he moved. “Hi, Y/n,” he smiled, handing you the bouquet. “Sorry for just being in here without you knowing. I thought that I’d finally use that spare key you lent me.” You cautiously walked up to him, taking the bouquet into your hands.

“Flowers?”

“Yeah! I hope you don’t think they’re too cheesy,” Jeongin giggled, playing with his earlobe out of nervousness. His hand loomed over the purple and white flowers, as he smiled fondly, looking at you with a soft gaze. “I asked Seungmin and Hyunjin to help me out. Did you know that lilacs represent a person’s ‘first love’, and that these little white ones, the baby breath’s, basically represent everlasting love? Cute, right? Too bad they’re kinda poisonous, apparently. Oh, but don’t worry though, the baby breath’s are plastic! Don’t wanna kill off the love of my life.”

He giggled once more, moving his hands to cover his flushed face. You stared down at the simple bouquet, nearly tearing up at its message. ‘You are the first person I’ve ever loved, and hopefully the last. There can be no one else in this world that I’d love the way I love you.’

Tears started to roll down your cheeks. You tossed the bouquet onto the table, grabbed his face and gently pressed your lips onto his, catching him off guard. Jeongin stumbled a bit before catching his balance and returned the kiss, his hands moving to encircle your waist and cup your face. With just one touch of your delicate lips against one another, the both of you could feel the plethora of emotions surging through your bodies. Years of unspoken yearning was now nothing more than a silly thought. The two of you slowly departed once the demand of air was too great to ignore, nothing but pure love glazed over your eyes.

“I love you, Y/n,” Jeongin professed, “I meant every word in that letter.” You smiled, bringing him back into another kiss. Your arms twisted around his broad frame, pulling each other closer. The feeling of your lips against his felt surreal. It was addicting.

You pulled away and whispered breathlessly, “More.” Jeongin’s grip on your waist tightened, the sweet request sending delightful shivers down his spine. He moved his head to kiss you in another angle. However, the action still was not enough. “More, please…”

The once innocent kiss slowly grew with salacious fervor. Your tongue swirled against each other like a sensual dance, hands roaming freely, caressing and squeezing parts neither of you thought would ever touch. His knee slides in between your legs, grinding itself against your dampening core, making you whimper. The heat between your bodies was starting to grow unbearable. You both needed more.

“Jeongin…” you whined, slightly grinding your body against his, “…need more…Please…” Jeongin’s pants were tightening by the second, and your needy pleas were not helping. He groaned, begrudgingly separating yourselves from each other, resulting in a needy cry from you.

“Y/n,” he panted. “W-We should stop while we still can. I feel like I’m gonna lose it!”

You grasped his collar, harshly pulling his face to yours, staring him down with lust. “Then lose it. What’s stopping you?” Immediately, Jeongin lifted you into his arms, running into your bedroom. He opened and slammed the door shut, not caring about the loud noise he made since he had a feeling that won’t be the noise your neighbors would be complaining about tonight. He carefully placed you on your bed, hovering above you, eyes staring you down with the same amount of hunger in yours. His eyes raked up and down your body, silently asking for your permission to proceed. Earning a nod from you, he leaned down and kissed you once more, sliding his tongue back inside your mouth while he lifted your shirt to fondle your chest.

You let out a breathy sigh, enjoying the way his large hands squeezed your breasts. Jeongin separated his lips from yours, a thin string of saliva still connecting you together, to move down to your neck. You twisted your head around, switching from baring your neck to enclosing it with stifled giggles, his plush lips sending a pleasurable but ticklish sensation. “Wait, stop,” you tittered, “it tickles, Innie! Nooo!” He immediately stopped, looking up with an exasperated yet amused expression.

“This is supposed to feel good, not tickle you, you weirdo!” Jeongin quipped, sticking his finger out to stroke the exact spot he was sucking on seconds ago. At the sight of your joyful laugh, his eyes crinkled in adoration.

“I’m sorry! I can’t help it!”

“Well, you ruined the sexy mood!” he joked. The sound of laughter filled the empty room, the intense atmosphere instantly shattering. You giggles ceased, continuing to gaze in each other’s eyes. Your right hand moved from his shoulder to his face, gently cupping his cheek. Jeongin’s smile widened, leaning into your touch.

“I love you, Innie,” you spoke softly. “I’m sorry for overreacting and ignoring you.”

He shook his head. “No, don’t be sorry, it’s my fault. You were right to get mad, I did basically lie to you and I’m sorry for that. It was kinda a jerky move.”

“I guess we really are just idiots in love, huh?”

“Tell me about it, can you believe I actually listened to Hyunjin and Jisung’s plan?”

“That was their idea?” you snorted. “That makes a lot more sense.”

“They had good intentions! Wrong approach, yeah, but they just wanted to help!”

You sat up, chuckling. Jokingly, you said, “Still, remind me to kill them later.” Jeongin nodded and muttered a playful “Gotcha” as he sat up with you. He urged you to sit on his lap, to which you immediately took, kissing your forehead once you were settled. The two of you connected your lips once more, the kiss now softer than before.

“Do you still wanna continue?” Jeongin asked. The second you agreed, his hands moved from your waist to your rear, bringing your lower body flat against him. The feeling of his hardened dick grinding against your core had you both groaning in pleasure. You moved his hands to the waistband of your bottoms, coaxing him to remove them from your body. Jeongin followed through, looking up at you for confirmation—to which you verbally gave him your okay—and slipped both your pants and underwear down as you removed your upper garments, leaving yourself bare. He nearly smirked when he noticed the string of arousal connecting itself from your vulva to your panties. “So wet,” he murmured, half-cockily, half-surprised, which made you blush. His forefinger brushed against your damp lips, gathering up your slick.

An erotically shaky breath escaped your lips. You closed your eyes, relishing his light touch. Gathering enough arousal, he slowly inserted his finger inside you, catching you off guard. “Ah!” you jolted, mewling.

“Sorry, did that hurt?”

“N-no, you didn’t—oh fuck, that feels good.” Jeongin pumped his finger in and out, watching your face contort in pleasure. He wiggled his finger several times before adding another finger. You cried out, throwing your head back. “Shit, Jeongin!” You panted, chest heaving deliciously. He attached his mouth to your breasts, tongue swirled around your nipple. You twisted and moaned, the stimulation on your chest and in your cunt made you dizzy. You were so close to your release, tightening when Jeongin switched to the other nipple. “C-clit, Jeongin. Here—oh—!”

“Here?” His thumb moved up to play with the little bundle of nerves above, making you arch your back with a pleasured whine. The speed of his fingers increased, feeling you tighten more and more around them. He chuckled when your body started to shake, signaling that you were about to cum. He moved his head to your ear, pecking your jaw. “Let go, beautiful,” he whispered huskily. The unexpected command triggered your release, his tone sending shivers down your spine. You let out a keen moan, body twisting and shaking as you cummed, Jeongin helping you ride out your high. He carefully slipped his fingers out, panicking when you collapsed on top of him. “Shit, are you okay!?”

Chuckling, you nodded. “Holy fuck, you filthy virgin, how are you so good?”

Knowing that you’re still conscious and responsive enough to crack a joke, your best friend sighed in relief. “Porn,” he grinned cheekily, causing you to roll your eyes and lightly slap his chest. You were about to let out a snarky comeback, freezing when Jeongin stuck his soiled fingers inside his mouth. His pink tongue lapped up every bit of cum on his digits. Your face heated in embarrassment, hiding yourself in the juncture of his neck. “Jeongin!”

“What?” he simpered. “Don’t wanna put anything to waste, right?” You looked up to see his condescending smile. It was clear that he enjoyed seeing you so flustered in this way. You covered your reddened face while he laughed.

“You’re still fully covered…” you muttered, slowly moving your hands away. Jeongin briefly looked down then back to you, his smirk widening.

“We should change that, shouldn’t we?” he teased. He got off of the bed, slowly removing his clothes, giving you a little strip tease; forcing himself to ignore his shyness and to not back down. Before he could remove his boxer briefs, a crucial realization struck. “Crap, I don’t have any condoms…”

“It’s okay, I have some in that drawer over there.” Jeongin looked over and walked to where you were pointing at. He opened the drawer, blushing when he saw your neatly folded underwear inside. “In here?” he timidly asked, throwing you an embarrassed look. “Why do you even have condoms?”

Now it was your turn to smirk. “Aww, are you getting shy? You better not be, especially after fingering me and shamelessly eating my cum!” you raised your brow. “The condoms are buried in the corner somewhere. And for your information, a friend of mine bought them for me as a joke, I just never threw them out cause I thought they might come in handy one day!”

“Good thing you didn’t,” he snickered, pulling out the box and closing your underwear drawer. He pulled out one packet and placed the box on top of the drawer, walking back to the bed. He was about to open the package before your hands stopped him.

“Let me do it.” You tore it open, pulling out the rubber then tossing the trash onto the floor. At the same time, Jeongin pulled down his underwear, his red cock slapping against his toned stomach. You wrapped your hands around his stiff length, giving it a few strokes, which resulted in Jeongin to moan, before pinching the tip of the condom and rolling it onto him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and laid back onto the bed, bringing him down with you. He kissed your lips one more time, scooting back a bit to position himself to your vagina, his tip grazing your entrance.

“Are you gonna be okay?” he questioned, eyebrows furrowing in worry. “Tell me if it hurts, okay?”

“Of course, I’ll tell you when to stop. Just go slowly.” Nodding, his hand carefully guided his dick inside you, going as slow as he could, hands going back to either side of your head. Your mouth hung open, a mix of mild pain and pleasure shot up your back. Jeongin immediately leaned down and kissed your lips after hearing the slight discomfort in your whine. You squeezed your eyes shut, forcing yourself to focus on the pleasurable aspect. You pulled away and breathlessly commented, “Holy shit, you’re bigger than I thought.” Naturally, Jeongin’s ego inflated, cheeks reddening out of shyness.

“Sorry?” he said, grinding his hips against yours to test the waters. Hearing your whimpers grow louder and needier, he slowly pulled out half way and slammed back inside, causing you to let out a loud moan. He continued the action, his hips gradually moving faster and faster with each desperate cry of his name.

“M-more!” you whimpered, “Go faster, p-please!” Jeongin groaned, sitting up to adjust himself. His large hands moved to your legs, spreading them wider. His pace increased, roughly pounding into you. Despite the cool air from the air conditioning, the heat from your bodies caused sweat to roll down your head; the sounds of skin slapping and heavy pants and moans filled the room. Your hands moved to his back, clawing at it. “Harder! Harder! Fuck, keep going, Jeongin!”

Your arched your back, heaving chest, tear-stained face, and loud, desperate moans hypnotized him. He wanted to see more. Throwing his head back with a loud moan, obsessed with the tantalizing squeeze of your pussy, he hissed, “Oh God, you feel so good, Y/n—fuck!” He hooked his hands under your knees, lifting your legs over his shoulders, enabling him to reach deeper inside you. Your eyes rolled back, the tip of his cock hitting your sweet spot. The pornographic moans that escaped your sweet lips had Jeongin’s cock throbbing.

He was dangerously close to the edge; your slick cunt was getting too much for him to handle. Not wanting to cum first, his hand cupped your cunt, thumb moving back to your clit, circling it in a way that had you seeing stars. “Ah shit!” you screamed, tears of pleasure streaming down your already messy face. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, OH FUCK!” Jeongin leaned forward to kiss you, shoving his tongue back inside your mouth. It took three more thrusts from Jeongin for your sanity to shatter. Your body spasming as you cummed, the milky fluid coating his length as he fucked you through your high, some of it spilling out of you.

Your pulsating cunt pushed Jeongin to his release. His body stilled, ejaculating into the condom. He pushed his face onto your pillow, moaning right in your ear. He rolled his hips into you a few times then pulled out, more of your fluids flowing out. Jeongin carefully removed the condom, getting up and tying it to dispose of it. You watched him through drowsy eyes, giggling when something crossed your mind. Wiggling your eyebrows when you made eye contact, you said, “That was so good, looks like watching porn every night really paid off!”

“Shut up!” he groaned with a laugh, threatening to throw the used rubber to your face. As he was going back to the bed, he bent down to pick up his t-shirt and sweater, separating them from each other, using the shirt to clean your messy bodies. He laid back down with you, throwing the dirtied shirt across your room.

You took your blanket and covered your naked bodies to protect yourselves against the cold air, cuddling to strengthen the heat. You nuzzled your face to his chest, taking in his scent. “So, when did you realize that you loved me?” you whispered, tracing curved lines onto his broad chest. Jeongin let out a breathy chuckle, reminiscing the exact moment his whole world changed.

“God, honestly, I think I’ve loved for a long time now but never acknowledged it until, like, our last year of middle school,” he laughed. “That was the year I got my braces!”

You giggled. “Of course, you were so cute back then.”

“Hey, are you trying to tell me that I’m not cute anymore?”

“Your words, not mine,” you joked, pecking his jaw.

Jeongin giggled, pulling you closer in an attempt to crush your body. “Rude. Even after I’ve confessed my love for you, you still continue to bully me,” he snickered, shuffling his body lower to rest his head against yours. “You know that kid who used to pick on me? I remember him saying something so mean about them, I legit cried! I really wanted to run away and bawl my eyes out, but then you saw us and pushed the kid to the ground and yelled at him, and I quote, ‘for being a little bitch and bullying other kids’!”

“Ah,” you cringed, “gosh, why was I such a violent kid?”

“Don’t be embarrassed, I like that about you!” Jeongin laughed. “You were one of my role models, actually! You’re so happy, strong-willed, independent, always helping those in need, aka me. You always knew what you wanted and worked hard for it. It was always so, so admirable, I was kinda jealous! I remember thinking ‘wow she’s so cool, I am so in love with her’!” Flustered, you buried your face in his chest again, mumbling something about how sweet but embarrassing his words were. He laughed again, rubbing your bare back in reassurance. “You know, as cliche as our whole love story is, at least now we finally have each other,” Jeongin kissed your nose, the two of you giggling. “Can’t believe we spent the last few years doubting ourselves. God, does that mean we could’ve been doing this all this time?”

“What? The sex?” you teased, making him panic.

“NO! Of course not! I meant we could’ve been doing this! The late night sweet talking, the cuddling without getting nervous, the gentle kisses? Everything we could’ve been freely doing as a couple. Honestly, I’m kinda frustrated with myself!”

“Aww, don’t be! Now we can do it, yeah?”

Jeongin sighed. “True. Better late than never!” he chuckled, earning a giggle from the both of you. You laid in serenity, basking in the feeling of finally being in each other’s arms…

“Wanna go another round to make up for lost time?”

“…Hurry up and fuck me dumb then, lover boy~”

End ♡︎

#celebratethemthighs #stray kids smut #stray kids fanfic #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz smut #in smut #jeongin smut #this fanfic is officially the longest piece i’ve ever written oh my gosh #3 weeks for hard work phew!#and fyi this is the reason why i’ve been so MIA this month again #btw it’s like midnight here so i’m just gonna correct any of mistakes tomorrow #cause this is honestly a bit of a rush job #i mean— it FEELS like one #but i’m still pretty proud of this!#but i’m still pretty proud of this nonetheless!#and now that i’m done— i can go back to read other fics and writing for LNI! woohoo!

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dolliedarlin · 3 years

Note

Hi I’m one of the anons who’s obsessing over the P.A series!!!!! For some reason my brain has been full w diff things that could happen IDKKK! Hope u don’t mind if I dump a few....

TW: this is A bunch of rambling and some grammar errors LMAO sorry

Idk y I c y/n having a stalker💀 this prob sounds rlly weird but hear me out. (To add drama, also I Lowkey wanna c Mina,Sero and kiri get mad idk y-)

Since we all know y/n is the baddest most sophisticated b*tch (sorry idk if I’m allowed to cuss or not LMAO) her Ex lover is still obsessed w her and thinks that they are soulmate even tho they obv aren’t. I feel like y/n knows he stalks her but she ignores it until it gets worst. Like he found out where she lives. (He finds out where she lives while she’s sick which is now loll)

Anyways I feel like Mina would be over at y/ns place and since she’s getting better they are In her living room talking abt who knows what and y/n gets a knock on her door she goes to open it and admittedly closes it looking shocked. Mina being a pro hero is supposed to be able to read body language. Mina ask her if everything is Alr and y/n OFC (stupid a**) says yes. Mina didn’t want to keep pressing the issue so she dropped it until it became a reoccurring thing with y/n and it’s not just her that noticed. She (y/n) is extremely hesitant to open the door and when she does she opens it a little bit. (And then idk her EX does crazy like breaks into her apt and scares the sh** outa y/n) THIS IS WHERE MY BIG IDEA STOPS 😭😭😭😭😭😭 that was a lotta rambling my apologies

Have a great day dollie!

oh no! please don’t feel bad, it’s always fun for me seeing what you dolls would want to happen next

although i don’t plan on bringing any psycho exes into ‘the p.a’ series, as a writer and an avid daydreamer, i can’t help but play around with this idea

warning: there are brief mentions of violence ; this is not a part of ‘the p.a’ series but is just a little thought that i just couldn’t help but try my own hand at also ; i didn’t edit this either 😂 so kindly forgive any grammatical/spelling mistakes

continuing on from your idea...

⏤mina, having the sneaking suspicion that something bad might happen to you that night, notifies the rest of the group later on that day

⏤usually, bakugou was in charge of you during the night and always sat in a chair beside your bed on high alert, ready to serve your every need...

⏤BUT!

⏤now that mina told them about your suspicious behaviour, all of them were put on high alert.

⏤they all agreed to keep you unaware of their intentions by having bakugou take care of you like usual but they made sure that when on the night patrol, they were close by with their radios on and constantly being hyper aware of the shortest route to your residence from wherever they were situated - just in case of an emergency

⏤naturally, they trusted bakugou with keeping you safe but that didn’t mean that they had no worries for you at all

⏤seeing as you usually feel asleep before bakugou switched with the sero, who took care of you in the late evening, you were under the impression that you were alone at home

⏤your current condition disallowed you from comfortably staying awake so you were constantly tossing and turning in bed, brows furrowed and sweating more than usual

⏤”what is she dreaming about?” bakugou utters in frustration as he continues to wipe away the vastly accumulating sweat rom your wrinkled brows

⏤he wasn’t frustrated at you no no, he was annoyed at the fact that he couldn’t make you comfortable no matter how many wet towels he uses to cook your forehead or wipe your sweat clean off your skin

⏤as the night progresses, you eventually fall into a dreamless sleep, far too exhausted to continue stressing over your ex with the added burden of your fever on your body

⏤nevertheless, bakugou continues being on high alert at all times except for when he momentarily leaves to room so as to go to the toilet

⏤this was the perfect opportunity for your crazy ex to sneak into your room via the window bakugou left ajar so as to help cool you down better

⏤your ex was a creepy and disgusting man - someone that you had grown to dislike the more you got to know him and naturally left as quickly as you were able to

⏤what followed was harassment to the highest degree, thankfully you were able to protect yourself due to your self defence training and quirk, however, it didn’t take away the shuddering feeling of being watched constantly

⏤you grew paranoid and extremely fidgety over time and eventually filled for a restraining order. unfortunately, that didn’t work and left you to deal with the situation yourself

⏤you were naive enough to think that you had shaken him after a particularly horrible beating he took from you in self defence. he had come at you with a knife but you were able to disarm him and send him limping home with a dislocated arm, a black eye and a bruised ribcage

⏤over time, you got busy with work and slowly forgot about him, it wasn’t until today that you were reminded of his crazy obsession with you and were thrown into a panic

⏤believing that you were alone at night and in your most vulnerable state, you didn’t feel safe and sought to deal with the situation however you could, even in your dreams

⏤all attempts were in vain, however

⏤bakugou, returning from his momentary break to the toilet came back just in time to see your creepy ex hovering over your sleeping figure. as if you sensed the unpleasant existence stalking you, your body stiffened under the blankets and you began to breathe uncomfortably, beginning to sweat bucket-fulls once more

⏤not wanting to disturb your sleep as rest was the top priority for you, bakugou crept up from behind the unknown figure and instantly went for his neck, choking him into silence as he dragged his thrashing figure outside, far away from you all the while sending a emergency signal to the rest of the squad

⏤in no time at all, the rest of the squad arrived and had your crazy ex cornered. at this time he had already been tied up by bakugou and was ready for a quick chat

⏤”what the hell were you doing with our yn?” kirishima began, sharp teeth grinding together as he clenched his jaw

⏤silence

⏤”speak up, we can’t fucking hear you,” bakugou spat as the others glared on from beside him, their eyes piercing through the moonlight and darkness of the night

⏤”y-yn isn’t yours - that’s the first thing,” your ex finally cracked, giggling creepily in between

⏤”you’re right,” sero began, “yn doesn’t belong to anyone so why were did you break into her house,” it took everything in sero not to lash out but they needed answers

⏤”wrong again!” your ex sang, “she doesn’t belong to you, she belongs to me! i’m her boyfriend!”

⏤”yn doesn’t have a boyfriend,” kaminari spoke up

⏤”that’s right! and if she did, we would have known,” mina agreed

⏤“that’s because she doesn’t know it yet, we broke up but we’ll get back together again soon” the tied up man giggled to himself, “it’s only a matter of time before she realises her mistake and she comes back to me,”

⏤the team of heroes didn’t know what to say, they were so shocked and appalled at what they were seeing and hearing that they couldn’t bring themselves to utter a single word of response, they only listened further

⏤”i hoped she’d come back soon, anyway...but i was getting impatient so i had to try and convince her a little more. she’s been ignoring my love for her all this time, she can’t continue rejecting me for long...” he laughs, “i bet she misses it”

⏤“miss what...?” bakugou didn’t want to know but it had to be said

⏤”i bet she misses being with me. she’s so beautiful and so soft to the touch, she always smells good too and she has such a lovely voice - i want her all to myself, she doesn’t deserve to be anybody else’s”

⏤it was then that the team of heroes just about lost their minds. the creep before them didn’t say anything explicit but the madness in his eyes and the harrowing smile he was displaying was off putting. they dread to imagine what a lowlife nasty sob like him put you through but they saw flashes of unforgivable scenes that sent all of them into insanity

⏤someone so precious to them didn’t deserve any such treatment. you may not have disclosed anything to them strict on being professional but if this man was willing to break into your house...they were fearful to think about what else he was capable of

⏤he deserved a beating from that act alone, actually, and a beating he got

⏤they could’ve killed the guy - they were more than tempted to and it would have been so easy...but he deserved to suffer in jail for his crimes against you so they held back no matter how painful that was for them

⏤the very next day, under their authority and recommendation, the man was locked up for as many years as they could tally up and seeing as they were heroes, they were able to look into his past documentations and found you had filed a restraining order for him under harassment, assault and a number of other things they grew all the more furious at the more the read

⏤they would prefer it if you didn’t realise what they did that night but the media couldn’t let the story of 5 high class pro heroes sending a singular, beaten man to jail for life

⏤your creepy ex’s battered photos were all over the news and you were so incredibly grateful

#love; dollie #precious anon #not part of the pa series #just a little imagining #this was fun

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0606-hyuck · 3 years

Text

first kiss forum

♡ everyone has their first kiss eventually. sometimes, you just have to create an online forum to find the right one. and sometimes, the right one is not at all who you expected it to be.

genre: fluff, a tiny bit of angst if you look hard enough, university!au, friends to strangers to lovers!au

paring: na jaemin x female reader

word count: 3.5K

a/n: i have never had my first kiss b4 so the description of it might be a bit off lol but i tried. this is unedited btw. my masterlist is here!

tagging: @nct-writers

Everybody has their first kiss eventually.

First kisses are described as an experience every young girl yearns for. An experience classmates sit around in a circle and proclaim their excitement for, and gossip about their own stories. Something that, for some, was everything they'd ever hoped for and more - for others, a memory they’d rather forget.

A first kiss was something you had not had yet.

At the age of twenty-one, you were getting to the stage where your lack of romantic life was veering towards concerning. Now in your third year of university, you really thought that by now you would have at least had your first kiss. Or a boyfriend. Or even held someone’s hand romantically, for god’s sake!

You weren’t one to rush into things, though. You didn’t see the point in trying your hardest to get a boy’s attention when you were perfectly fine without it. Some people you knew couldn’t stand being single - for you, it was all you’d ever known. Sure, you’d wanted to be in a relationship before, but you’d always prioritised your education and grades over hooking up with people at random frat parties in the weekend.

The only problem was, your last remaining single friend, Asi, had gone and found herself a man, and was now just as loved up as everyone else. She was the friend you’d hang out with when everyone else was on dates with their significant other, the friend you’d roll your eyes with when your other friends were going on and on about the latest cute thing their partner had done for them. Now, you were all alone, with no one to save you from the clutches of boredom or second hand embarrassment.

You were happy for your friends - of course you were, all you wanted was for them to be content in their relationships - but it was worrying you that boys had never really shown an interest in you. You didn’t think you were ugly - in fact, you had a healthy level of self esteem - but you’d never had anyone confess their feelings for you like your friends had. You were starting to wonder if there was something wrong with you. Were you really that boring that no boys wanted to talk to you? Were you just that unlikeable?

Before your train of thought plunged itself off the rails and into a deep pit of self loathing and pity, you reminded yourself that you were, in fact, likeable. Boys had liked you before, of course they had - you were great! Only, it had been a long time since someone had had a crush on you.

Na Jaemin had been the first boy to show a serious interest in you, back when you were both just sixteen years old. Jaemin was that boy in class that all the girls had a secret crush on. He wasn’t necessarily good looking in an “oh my god he’s so hot!” kind of way, but his bright smile, eyes that shone with curiosity and amusement, and cheeky personality had you hooked on him since the first time you’d met him.

You’d been classmates with Jaemin since you were fourteen, and you’d had a crush on him for just as long, but it took a few more years for him to return your feelings. It was only after you were paired up for a science project together that you actually started talking to each other and becoming friends. Jaemin was virtually a massive ball of sunshine in the classroom, and ever since you were paired up together he always made sure to include you in conversations, games, and the friend groups he was in. It was a few months after your science project that you heard little snippets of conversations from his friends - rumours started circulating that Jaemin had a crush on you!

When you brought it up with him, expecting him to brush it off as a joke his friends had started to embarrass him, you were utterly shocked when he admitted the rumours were true. He told you outright that he liked you, but didn’t expect or want to pressure you into feeling the same way back, so he simply grinned and walked away before you could respond.

A few days later, he came into class carrying a yellow flower. You’re positive every single girl in your class had their eyes fixed on Jaemin as he walked up to your desk and placed it in front of you. The flower was frayed and browning at the edges, and it appeared Jaemin had simply ripped it out of his own back garden, but it was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for you.

After that, he constantly invited you to hang out with him and his friends at the local arcade or basketball court. He was never embarrassed to have you around, and would always make sure you felt comfortable and were having fun above all else. Soon, you would hang out together, just the two of you. You never established what your relationship was, but you both knew you were best friends, and that Jaemin liked you and you liked him just as much.

And then, he left.

Just like that, Jaemin was no longer a student at your school. You heard from his friends that he’d transferred to another school a couple districts over. He left without saying a word to you, and you weren’t even upset. You just wondered what would have happened between you two if he’d stayed.

Bringing yourself back to the present, you finally focused on what Asi was saying. It was when your best friend was going on a tangent about how lovely her new boyfriend was that you made a decision. If you couldn’t get your first kiss the conventional way, then you had no choice but to resort to unorthodox methods.

You were going to create a first kiss forum.

It was simple, really. Create an online forum with some crucial questions - name, age, why they wanted to be your first kiss, etc - and then send it off into the online world. It took you less than thirty minutes to decide on the questions, create the forum, and then post it on a facebook page followed by students from your university. You honestly felt a little embarrassed that you were going through this much effort all for a first kiss, and you were worried about what people would say in response to your post, but after an hour all the comments people left were either them being super supportive of your initiative or people tagging their friends to apply for the position of “first-kiss-taker”.

Now all you had to do was sit back and wait a couple of days for the responses to roll in.

“So, have you checked the responses to your forum yet?” Asi asked, reclining back into the sofa in your living room and grabbing a fistful of crisps. When you’d told her your plan to create the forum, Asi was hesitant. She didn’t believe you needed to go through all that effort just to get a first kiss - according to her, first kisses weren’t even a big deal anyway - but once she realised your mind was set she did everything in her power to be that supportive best friend you needed.

“Not yet,” you sighed, fiddling with your phone in your hand. “I’m just nervous, you know? What if no one wants to be my first kiss, and they only applied because they thought it would be funny?”

“Well, there’s only one way to find out, Y/N. Crack that bad boy open and let’s go through some of the responses!”

You’d refrained from checking the forum since you’d posted it thus far, but at this point it had been quite a few days and the hype your post initially received had died down. Pulling up the forum on your phone, Asi leaned over your shoulder while your jaw hung open in surprise.

“Asi, are you seeing this?” You managed to stammer out. “53 responses? That’s so much more than I was expecting. I thought I’d get, like, five at the most!”

“Damn, that is a lot,” Asi replied, beaming at you. “Now let’s narrow that 53 down to one.”

Huddled together over your screen, you and Asi spent the next few hours deciding between the applicants, searching for your ideal first kiss taker. “How about this guy, Taeyong?” She suggested.

“His responses to the questions were sweet,” you agreed, and then blanched. “Asi, he’s 25! I don’t want to have my first kiss with someone that much older than me!”

“Okay, so someone close in age with you....hmm, how about this dude, Donghyuck?”

Glancing at the screen for a second, you shook your head. “Did you see his response for the ‘why do you want to be Y/N’s first kiss’ question? He said ‘because I have a corruption kink’. No thank you.”

“God, you’re so fussy, Y/N!” Asi joked, shoving you lightly with her shoulder, although your focus was back on the applicants.

“How about this guy? He simply put his name as J but his responses are so heartfelt,” you pointed out. “In response to the ‘why do you want to be Y/N’s first kiss’ question, he said ‘have you seen her? Y/N is literally a goddess sent down from the heavens and a first kiss is a beautiful experience for both parties and one I would love to share with her’.”

“Oh, so this J is a sweet talker then, huh?” Asi grinned. “I think you’ve already made your mind up, then. Go ahead and message him, he sounds like a good guy!”

And message him you did.

“What the hell am I supposed to wear?”

Today was the day you’d agreed to meet this mysterious J and have your first ever kiss. After selecting J out of all the applicants, you’d messaged him with the good news that he’d been chosen. J seemed really excited, and you’d been talking with him every day leading up to when you would finally meet him. The lucky guy seemed almost perfect for you. Somehow, J knew exactly what to say in response to your messages, and every time you checked your phone you were smiling because of something funny he had said. He was genuinely sweet, and you don’t think you could have made a better choice when it came to your first kiss taker.

Only now, you had spent too long fretting about your outfit and you were running slightly late to your meeting with J. You’d both agreed to meet at this cute little park down near the subway station close to your university - somewhere public, so you felt safe, but also somewhere that was relatively quiet and offered you some privacy. J had sent you pictures of himself before, but only pieces of his appearance - a mirror shot with his face covered by his phone, a corner of his eye and forehead, his hair - nevertheless, you still felt confident you’d made the right decision and that J was the right person for the job.

You sent J a quick ‘I’m here now, sorry I’m late’ text once you reached the park, and headed towards your agreed meeting spot. There was an old bench secluded under a wide cherry blossom tree that you’d decided to meet J at, and because it was over the other side of the park you picked up your feet and increased the pace.

You only slowed down when you spotted a figure, already sitting on the bench under the tree. As you got closer, you realised it was a male, around your age, dressed in a knitted brown sweater and black jeans. His light brown hair was wavy and brushed back from his face, and he appeared to be clutching something tightly in his hands. He looked vaguely familiar from this distance, you thought, but you figured it was because you were finally seeing his face in real life, rather than piecing it together through random selfies.

That was, until you were close enough for him to notice you, and turn around to say, “hi, Y/N. It’s nice to finally meet you again.”

Standing up from the bench was Na Jaemin, your former best friend and crush, holding a bunch of yellow flowers between his hands. Of course J was Jaemin, that was just your luck.

You and Jaemin hadn’t left on good terms. Back in high school, back when you were best friends with him, Jaemin was very popular. He seemed to do everything right - from hotspotting your classmates to helping them with their homework, Jaemin was loved by everyone because of how caring he was. You were lucky enough to bear the brunt of that kindness when you were his friend, but you were also young and prone to jealousy.

Not only was he loved by everyone, but Jaemin seemed to love everyone back as equally as much. His innate ability to charm literally everyone he talked to - from classmates to teachers to parents - was something you’d loved about him at first, but soon became the bane of your existence. You found it hard to share Jaemin’s attention with everyone else in your class, and, although you knew Jaemin liked you the most, in your eyes it seemed like he was treating your classmates the same way he treated you.

You started questioning whether Jaemin actually liked you at all, or if you’d just read too much into the situation. You tried to ignore the sweet smiles and kind compliments he gave other girls in your class, and looking back now you realised he was only being friendly and that’s just who he was as a person, but you were starting to slip into the poisonous grasp of jealousy and feel like you were no more special than anyone else.

One day you decided to confront Jaemin about how nice he treated everyone, and how it made you feel like he didn’t behave towards you the way someone would to their crush, and he did not take that conversation well. You don’t blame him, not really, considering you essentially told him to stop being so nice to everyone and focus on you instead. Jaemin said he wasn’t going to stop being kind to people because you felt jealous, which upset you even more, and you didn’t talk to each other in the days following your fight.

When Jaemin left your school, you two were still very angry at each other, so he didn’t tell you he was having to leave. Quite frankly, you didn’t care. Jaemin could suck it, at that point. If he insisted on treating you the same way as your classmates, who he didn’t have a literal crush on, then he didn’t deserve you at all. You felt like a whole lot of weight and unnecessary jealousy was lifted when Jaemin left, but as you got older you started to wonder how your relationship would have turned out if you hadn’t been so damn immature.

It’s funny, really. When you were sixteen, you thought Jaemin was going to be your first. Your first boyfriend, your first kiss, your first love. And here he was, five years later, offering to give that to you.

“I got you flowers. I remember they used to be your favourite,” Jaemin spoke, flashing you a soft smile as he held out the bouquet of flowers to you. Now that he was standing next to you, you noticed all the traces of the sixteen year old version of him that you were familiar with. Although he had gained an extra half foot in height and lost the chubbiness of his cheeks, he retained the stunning smile and bright eyes that you fell in love with all those years ago. He really was handsome now.

“So, you’re J?” You managed to say, confusion and surprise evident in your voice as you took the flowers. You took a seat back down on the bench and Jaemin followed your lead, sitting closely beside you.

“That I am. Sorry I wasn’t honest with you about who I was,” he admitted. “I figured you probably wouldn’t meet up with me if you knew who J really was.” You lifted the flowers up to your nose and took a long draw of the flowery scent. Jaemin was right, that infuriatingly attentive bastard, they were your favourite.

“Right. And yet you still applied to be my...first kiss?”

Suddenly, you felt very embarrassed to confess you’d never had your first kiss before. Jaemin was gorgeous, and there was no way he was in the same boat as you, you thought as humiliation flooded through your body.

“Uh yeah, about that,” Jaemin chuckled, a blush appearing on his cheeks. Hold up, why was he blushing? “When I saw your post about the first kiss forum online, I was so surprised that you’d never had your first kiss before. I kept thinking, if we hadn’t stopped talking to each other we probably would have been each other’s first kiss back in high school.”

He paused, and glanced at the ground, unable to keep eye contact with you. “I feel really bad, you know. With how things ended between us. We never dated, Y/N, but I really liked you. When I moved to my new school, I wanted to message you and tell you all about it, but because you never messaged me I thought you didn’t want to talk to me.”

Your breath caught at Jaemin’s words, and you felt a wave of guilt wash over you. “That’s not true,” you revealed, and he finally looked up at you again. “I was so angry at you, yes, but I missed you so much, too. I wanted to talk to you, but my pride stopped me from messaging you first. If you’d sent me a text I would have replied.”

“I nearly did. When I finished high school, I was going through all my old subject books and found a note you’d written me. It was so childish, something about how you would love me forever, with a stupid little love heart beside it, but I suddenly had the urge to wrap you in a massive hug and tell you I was sorry, and that I forgave you. I was going to message you that day, but we hadn’t talked for years and I thought you would find that weird,” Jaemin said sadly.

He let out a loud sigh, and replaced the very sorry look on his face with a bright smile. “I’ve had my first kiss already, but when I saw your forum I thought it wasn’t too late to give you yours!”

“Wait, what?” You furrowed your brows, your brain still processing the fact that Na Jaemin missed you as much as you missed him, if not more. “You actually want to be my first kiss?”

“Of course! I couldn’t give it to you when we were sixteen, but it’s not too late to make up for past mistakes, Y/N.” Jaemin placed a hand over your own and pulled it closer to him, wrapping you in his warmth. “Y/N, I would be honoured to be your first kiss, if you’ll have me.”

Unsure as to how to reply, and transfixed by how seriously Jaemin was taking this whole ordeal, you simply nodded your head eagerly. His eyes lit up with pure happiness when you gave him the green light, and Jaemin turned on the bench so you were facing each other directly. He placed a hand lightly on your jaw and tilted your head upwards - not with force but with a dominance gained only from having kissed others before - and searched your eyes for any signs of resistance, finding none.

One minute you were gazing back into Jaemin’s rich brown eyes, and the next his lips were on yours, pressing softly against your mouth. It was like an alarm went off in your head, screeching to you that your childhood crush, your first love, was in fact actually kissing you and this wasn’t a figment of your imagination. Using his palm to tilt your head slightly to the side, Jaemin deepened the kiss and you grasped for his forearms as he increased the intensity by parting your unpracticed lips. Tremors passed from your head down to every single fibre in your body, and through the pleasure and dizziness you were vaguely aware that you were kissing him back. Kissing Jaemin was exactly how you imagined it would be, yet it was a whole new experience at the same time. A perfect mix of familiar and foreign.

After a few long moments, Jaemin released your lips and leaned back, a smile equal parts bashful and smug crossing his face. His face was red, and you weren’t quite sure whether it was from a lack of air or because of what you’d just done together, but what you did know was that you couldn’t think of someone more perfect to share your first kiss with.

“So,” Jaemin grinned. “I think we have about five years worth of kissing to catch up on.”

#neowritingsnet #cznnet #nct-writers #dreamwritersnet #nct #nct dream #na jaemin #jaemin nct #nct jaemin #jaemin #jaemin x reader #jaemin scenario #jaemin imagine #jaemin fic

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dream-a-little-bigger-x · 4 years

Text

The Perfect Night | Charlie Gillespie

Requested by anon: Can you please write a fanfic with Charlie Gillespie x reader where you're taking him with you as a plus one to your high school reunion because you don't have anyone to go with but then they realise they really like each other

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x Female!Reader

Warnings: a few curse words like bitch, fluff

Words: 2,622

High school wasn’t your favorite. All the bullies and the stress to fit in. Everyone laughing at you because you were the nerd with all the stories piled up on your computer and the fantasy of a child in your head. You’d thought you left all of that behind. But then came the reunion. You’ve only graduated five years ago from high school and only last year from college. Though you had an amazing job as screenwriter and some really great friends, you didn’t have a date to bring to that reunion, and you knew all those people would pick on you for old time’s sake because you didn’t have a date. “Hey, you okay? You seem stressed,” Charlie’s voice shakes you awake from your anxious thoughts about the reunion. You look up at him and offer him a nervous smile. Charlie Gillespie is your co-worker, and along with the rest of the Julie and The Phantoms team, one of your newest friends. Yes, you were on the writing team for Julie and The Phantoms, and you had just finished a table read for season 2. “Yeah, I just—there’s this high school reunion tonight and I really don’t want to go.” “Not a fan of high school?” he asks as he falls into step with you, the two of you walking out of the building. “Not at all…” he gives you a curious look, “Eh, they used to bully me because I was a writer and spent my time writing books instead of going out to parties or spending time with friends,” you give him the synopsis. Charlie doesn’t need to know about the nights you spend crying in your room or going to your therapist. You were close, just not that close. Besides, you’d rather forget about your past. “And now you’re a part of the writers’ team on a popular Netflix show?” he tries with a smile, but you just give him an unimpressed look. “Come on, Y/N! This is an opportunity to show them what you made of yourself! Brag a bit about how amazing a job you have!” You shrug, still not convinced. “I just don’t want to face them alone…” you mumble, staring at your moving feet when suddenly a thought pops into your head and you stop in your tracks, looking up at him. “Do you want to be my plus one?” He halts too, raising his eyebrows at you. “Nope, you’re right, that’s stupid!” You start walking again, Charlie following your example. “No. No, it’s not stupid. I just didn’t think you’d ask me?” “You’re one of my best friends here, Charlie. It’s just logical.” He smiles at that. He really has become your best friend since meeting him a couple months ago. “Okay! So, am I playing your boyfriend? Husband? Just a best friend?” You furrow your eyebrows at him, glaring at him questionably. “We could make something fun out of this, Y/N!” He’s almost bouncing off the walls with excitement. That’s the Charlie you know and love. “Okay… Uhm, let’s pretend you’re my boyfriend. I bet they wouldn’t expect the antisocial nerd to have a boyfriend.” The giggle that comes out of his mouth is too adorable to handle. “How did we meet?” he asks, making sure you got the story straight. “Uhm, here?” you suggest. He rolls his eyes at the obvious answer but goes with it. “Okay! Uhm, let’s – let’s say I fell for you when you bossily told me how I should say a line in the dialogue you wrote?” You nod your head slowly. That sounds kind of cute. “What was our first date?” “Uhm, I don’t know? Movie and dinner?” He scrunches his nose, shaking his head. “No, girl… Charlie Gillespie doesn’t do basic dates!” You chuckle at this, stopping in the hallway of the building to check out. “You like hiking, right?” You nod your head, signing your name on the paper at the front desk. “I took you on a hike on the Eagle Bluffs trail in Vancouver and we had a romantic picnic on the mountain with a gorgeous view over the Cabin Lake.” You nearly melt away at the thought of him taking you on a date like that. “That’s a cute date,” you tell him, impressed, and trying not to show what it’s really doing to you. “And I kissed you on that mountain top.” He raises an eyebrow as an amused smirk pulls at his lips. “No one at my school would ever think I’d be the one to take that step.” “And our first ‘I love you’s were accidental slip ups at work!” He sounds way too excited and he’s getting way too into this. “Like, I’d accidentally completely mess up the punch-line of the joke you wrote, and you’d get annoyed and angry, and then I accidentally said “Okay, sorry, thank you, I love you”.” You giggle at his ideas as the both of you exit the building together. “Anything else we need to discuss?” you ask, grabbing your car key. “Don’t think so…” he trails off, really mulling it over. “Oh! Is there a dress code?” “Yes! It’s formal,” you reply, hoping that wouldn’t be too much of trouble so last minute. He thinks about it for a moment, going through his own wardrobe in his mind. “What are you wearing?” he questions. “Not sure, a red dress, I think…” “You think?” “Yeah, I might change my mind if I don’t like it.” He nods his head understandingly. “What time does it start?” “Seven. It’s about fifteen minutes from my place.” “I’ll pick you up at twenty minutes before then,” he suggests. You nod your head in agreement, then say your goodbyes and go your separate ways. That night, Charlie’s eyes widen when you open the door in your red, tight-fitting bodycon dress with spaghetti straps. He’s not used to seeing you out of your comfy mom-jeans and T-shirts or sweaters. “Uh… Okay… First of all,” he gestures to your body, “Wow!” You laugh at him, feeling a blush creeping up your cheeks. “Second of all… WOW!” “It’s not too much?” you ask, shyly. “No! No! Not at all! I’m very glad I get to play the boyfriend of a goddess like you.” “Oh, shut it, Charlie!” you slap his chest playfully before grabbing your clutch and leaving your apartment. “You look pretty wow yourself, by the way,” you say, approving of the suit he’s wearing. He bashfully smiles as you exit the building. He opens every door for you, like a true gentleman. You’re pretty sure no one has ever done that for you before. You always thought it would be so cliché, but it’s actually really nice. “Hey, how far are we going to go with PDA?” he asks when he gets in behind the wheel. “You know, holding hands and stuff…” You blush a little at the thought alone. Being single for so long almost made you forget that was a part of it too. “Uhm… Just improvise,” you shrug. “You’re the actor after all.” You go over the story again with Charlie, making sure neither of you will forget and give everything away. “You ready?” he asks as you’re standing in front of your high school. Terrible memories flood back inside your mind, sending shivers down your spine. As if on automatic, you grab Charlie’s bicep for support – both moral and physical. “Let’s do this.” The two of you walk inside the school and find the gym where they’re holding the five-year reunion. The music’s blasting, lights are flickering, and people are mingling, reminiscing over their high school memories. You already spot a few people you know, but much rather not talk to. “If you ever feel overwhelmed and want to leave, just tell me, and we’re out of here,” he whispers in your ear. You can’t help but smile at his words. A true gentleman. “Thanks, Charlie,” you whisper back. He takes you straight to the bar where he gets you your favorite beverage. “How’d you know?” you ask when he hands it over. “You always order a G&T at the crew parties,” he tells you nonchalantly. “How attentive of you,” you compliment with an endeared smile plastered on your face. This man keeps surprising you with the smallest thing, and it’s the cutest thing you’d ever witnessed. It gives you the feeling of being seen and appreciated and respected. For the first time in your life. “Oh my God! Y/N!” you hear the shrill voice of Ella, one of your classmates from back in the day. One of the biggest bullies from your senior year. “You look amazing! How are you doing?!” she grabs the hand your not holding your drink with and presses a kiss to your cheek. “Hi, Ella…” you greet, putting the fakest smile you can muster on your face. “I’m good! How are you?” Charlie watches you to find any sign of uncomfortableness. “I’m good! You know, recently engaged.” She shows you her hand, which is decorated with the shiniest, biggest diamond ring you’d ever seen. “Oh, wow!” you glance at Charlie, “Look, babe, she’s engaged!” If he’s surprised by the sudden pet name, he doesn’t show it. “Congratulations, Bella!” You know he’s butchering that name on purpose, and you have to try your hardest to stifle a laugh. “You have a boyfriend?” Ella asks, clearly bitter over either him butchering her name or you, having such an attractive boyfriend. “There’s nothing on Facebook about that?” she chuckles awkwardly. Charlie wraps a protective arm around your waist, pulling you closer towards him. “Uhm… Yeah… We’re keeping it lowkey, you know?” you reply as convincingly as possible. “He’s an actor, so…” you trail off, hoping that would impress her. Ella’s demeanor changes all of a sudden. She goes from total bitch to flirty bitch. “Really?” She twirls a strand of hair around her finger. “Y/N?” Another voice chimes in, this one belongs to Addison, Ella’s bestie. “Hey, Addie…” you greet, clutching your glass really hard. Charlie can feel you tensing up beside him and starts rubbing circles on your hip. “Y/N has an actor boyfriend,” Ella informs her. Addison’s eyes widen as they dart from you to Charlie and back. “How’d you meet?” Addison questions, intrigued by this entire story. The two of you glance at each other, trying to determine who’s going to tell the story. “At work, actually,” you start. “I’m on the writers team of the show he plays in.” “Yeah! She bossily told me how to deliver the line she wrote, and I’ve been in love with her ever since.” He looks down at you with the most endeared smile on his face that makes you melt like ice cream in the sun. “Aw! That’s adorable!” Addison clutches her heart as if it’s about to burst out of her chest. “When did you fall in love with him, Y/N?” You glance at Charlie for some assistance or some inspiration. “When he suggested that instead of a boring movie and dinner date, we’d go hiking together. I just knew he was the one for me at that moment.” You’re not going to lie, Charlie taking you on a hiking date would totally make you fall in love with him. Ella’s and Addison’s noses scrunch up in disgust. “Also…” she adds, then leans in closer to the girls to whisper, “His arms! The boy has guns, I tell you!” The two girls gasp, scanning Charlie entirely from head-to-toe. He snickers, then pulls you closer again. “You did not fall in love with me for my arms,” he tells you, shaking his head with an amused look on his face. You look up at him, eyebrow raised. “I do see you every day with those muscle tees, babe. You really think I wouldn’t swoon for that?” You couldn’t lie. Charlie’s arms were killer. But obviously not the only thing that made him attractive. “If you don’t mind, ladies. I’m going to take my lady for some food,” he nods towards the other side of the gym where food is stalled out into a banquet. Addison and Ella bid their goodbyes, and the two of you make your way to the catering. “I hate them with a passion,” you grumble as you take a plate to fill with canapes. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone as fake as them, and I’m an actor.” You giggle at his comment and reach for the mini-pizzas at the same time he does, your hands touch, making both of you freeze. “Sorry,” you both mumble, pulling away, flustered. “Hey, Y/N!” A voice you really didn’t want to hear sounds from behind me. “Kill me now,” you mumble, earning a worried look from Charlie. “Ex-boyfriend.” Charlie takes your plate from you and places it onto the table, leaving you a little confused. “Do you trust me?” he asks, hushed. “Yeah, wh—?” before you can finish your question, Charlie presses his lips to yours, pushing you gently against the wall behind you. You’re startled, at first, but then melt into the kiss as your stomach starts to do flips and turns. You didn’t realize until now that this is what you’ve wanted all along. You always wondered why your eyes always automatically darted to his lips. Now you know why. “Ooh! Get it, Y/N!” you hear your ex’s best friend shout. Nothing about high school has changed. Except now Charlie’s here. He pulls away and stares at you for a moment, equally as overwhelmed as you. “You want to get out of here?” he whispers. You simply nod your head, running your tongue across your bottom lip as though the taste of his lips is still there. Charlie grabs your hand and pulls you to the door of the gym. As you pass your ex and his friends, you offer them a wave of your slender fingers. For the first time in years, you feel powerful in this gym, like you can conquer the world. Charlie takes you into the hallway, and pushes you against the wall of lockers, kissing you again. You can’t help the smile tugging at your lips as your hands tug at his suit jacket. “I wanted to do that for so long,” he whispers when he pulls away for a second, pressing his forehead against yours and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “What do you mean?” you ask, keeping your voice down too. “You really think I made all of that up in there?” he chuckles. “I really did fall for you when you told me off about delivering that line wrong.” Your mouth drops open before your lips turn up into a surprised smile. “It was incredibly hot.” “And I do swoon every time I see you, by the way,” you admit for the first time to yourself. “And I would really love that first date you imagined for us.” “Good,” he replies, “Because I was going to ask you to go this weekend.” Your eyes widen, and Charlie notices a sparkle in them that he’s never seen before. “Thank you for tonight, Charlie,” you whisper, pushing a strand of hair from his forehead. He has that Patrick Swayze hair he had a couple of times in Season 1 of Julie and The Phantoms, the hairstyle you find way too attractive. “No, thank you.” He smiles down at you before connecting his lips to yours again in a deep, passionate kiss. Tonight, you not only conquered your dreadful past, but you also found the love of your life in your best friend. And you couldn’t possibly ask for more. This was a perfect night.

Taglist: @hannahhistorian92 @marinettepotterandplagg @thequirkybookaholic @parkeret @lukeys-giggle @gingerxarmy @lovesanimals @bookdealer5

#julie and the phantoms #julie and the himbos #Julie molina #charlie gillespie #charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie fic #luke patterson #reggie jatp #jeremy shada #alex jatp #owen joyner #madison reyes #requests #anonymous

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dallonm-archive · 3 years

Photo

[image description: three monstera leaves. The leaves and wall are tinted purple by string lights behind the plant. In the middle, in a white serif font and all caps, reads “LIFE CYCLE OF MASSIVE STARS”. At the bottom, in the same font but smaller, reads “update #1″ /end id]

LIFE CYCLE OF MASSIVE STARS | UPDATE #1

Before I start, this is an autistic OwnVoices novel and it’s Autism Acceptance Month! Remember that awareness is passive and acceptance is active. And whilst this book is autistic OwnVoices I want to stress that it doesn’t cover the full autistic experience; autism is so individualistic and this story only stems from my experience. Make sure you to listen to all autistics, not just those who can speak and live independently and present in a way that suits neurotypical society. Support autistic creatives and if you’re also a creative, include autistic characters in your work! Autism is not a disease. It does not need to be cured.

Hey y’all! This has sure been a week! I gave myself the goal of 15,000 words for Camp Nano and somehow hit that in 5 days? I have literally never written at that pace before so I’m a little shocked lol. I don’t intend to keep that pace but the momentum has made drafting very fun and? drafting this has been a literal dream. I was really worried because March was a month long slump I expected to carry into April. I want to disclaim that I’m currently out of school and work because of the pandemic so I have all the free time to write and that definitely contributed! But also as a neurodivergent and disabled writer, free time does not always equal writing, so to know that I am capable of writing like this, even if not always, it is Such a gamechanger. Also this story makes me miss University so much I actually can’t take it :(

LCOMS has been a dream so far because the protagonists are all characters I’ve had for 5-8 years, and | spent those years struggling to figure out their stories. Even when I settled on this story, originally Patchwork, there was like 4 versions of it before I landed on this - none ever drafted beyond a couple thousand words because they just Never Worked. But the wait was worth it because holy shit I feel like I struck gold. This story feels so me, it’s so much fun to write, and I don’t think a story has come to me this easy before. It’s given me such a zest for storytelling again that I didn’t realise was missing. I’m slowing things down now because creative boundaries and self care >>>>, but I just passed 19k words - though some of the chapters are very unfinished because my priority has been mapping out the story’s skeleton as far as I can, then filling in the gaps based off what I learnt. I wanna put a passage before the cut so it’s not just me rambling about bullshit and no content, but it’s hard to pick just one, so here’s a non-linear scene that I :) cannot elaborate on :)

(CW: alcohol)

[image description: the side of a ferris wheel against black sky. The wheel is lit white, but at the bottom it’s coloured a mix of pink, blue and green. At the top, in a white serif font, reads “The ferris wheel lights blur between turquoise, magenta, mint, lavender, casts the puddles into technicolour. “ /end id]

Picture this: December 17th. End of term. End of year. Cloudless night, stars winking. Fargate glows, market stalls lit by yellow fairy lights line the street like candle stubs, gently burning. It’s raining. It has all day. Dampened your new beanie and scarf but you’re not mad, even if you’ll cringe at the texture when you take them off later. The ferris wheel lights blur between turquoise, magenta, mint, lavender, casts the puddles into technicolour. Your eyes and feet ache, but you’re not mad. And the mulled wine that buzzed warm in your bloodstream now coils in your stomach, but you’re not mad. You’re queuing for the technicolour wheel, even though you know it’ll be underwhelming and a waste of £4, but you’re not mad. Chocolate is usually too sweet for you, but he bought a pack of snowflake shaped ones - each carved with their own design - and when he passes the paper bag over you don’t say no. They taste like raspberry. He grins at you.

I have once again written a long update because I am autistic and have no self control; more excerpts and chapter-by-chapter rambles are as usual under the cut!

(content warnings are specific to the respective excerpt, but as a general warning there’s a lot of alcohol mentions!)

Originally I wanted 3 parts for 3 semesters, but I might do 2? Especially because in the UK at least the spring and summer semester kinda blend into one. The chapters are grouped by 3 - one for every POV character - but that’s more to help with writing because I get more done if I break it down like that, but I also like how it’s shaped the story structurally.

Sometimes the three chapters will be each of the character’s POV on a single event, sometimes they’re more individual but still follow a general idea (for example, one of them is how each character’s first three weeks of the semester goes). As usual for me the plot here is ~non-existent, especially at this stage, but everything is still connected and threaded together and thats all we really need. The chapters are also pretty short at the moment, none of them are over 3k and only tackle 1-3 scenes. This is something I feel is working really nicely now but I’m not gonna commit to it for the entire novel. I like chapter length variety! But right now we are just going with the flow :)

The most unexpected part is this being in second person, which I decided impulsively the night before Nano because I have :) zero self control :). I was unsure if it’d work in Multi POV, but it’s created such a unique tone that I can’t imagine the story without anymore, even if it’ll need tweaking over drafts. I think it suits the story so well! I’m just torn about it being in past or present, so if you see tense jumps in the excerpts no you did not <3 I’m not naming chapters right now beyond the character’s name, but part one is titled Growing Pains.

[image description: photo of a city at night. To the left are skyscrapers with lots of lit up windows behind a chain-link fence. To the right is an unlit building. Near the middle is a bright streetlight. In the middle, in a white serif font, reads “growing pains”. /end id]

1: Tomas

We start in the most overrated part of Uni, fresher’s week <3 The drinking and clubbing culture of UK university is a big part of this novel but in a way that’s like “hey this can be fun sometimes but sometimes it’s really not and it’s also really not for everyone.” Our three POVs go to a club night and really don’t care for it. Tomas does not want to be here, is in a weird as shit mood, and instead of looking for his friends he goes to the smoking area with a man he just met called Damiano. I really wanna rewrite this because I wrote it with Zero Idea of where the story was going, so here’s the one part of it that I consider salvageable <3

Damiano shoves his phone in your hands, brightness puncturing darkness. You hadn’t noticed the dimmed lights until then, but the room blued, music and time slowed. Though his notes are on dark mode, his phone brightness is on two fucking high. Your eyes sting. Cracks travel up the screen like veins.

Each character also has a specific image they keep seeing in things that are never actually there and they all make me like 🤠 hey besties what do these mean are you okay?? I Do Not know what they mean yet, but Tomas’ is veins. (Also shout out to me for finally settling on a spelling for his name after 5 years and by that I mean thank you to my friends for peer pressuring me into choosing Tomas lol)

My absolute favourite part of this story is the character voices. They are all SO fun to write, and I feel like I settled into a good combo of My Literary Prose Bullshit and they’re very specific, often very sarcastic voices. They also say fuck like, so many fucking times. RIP to me if I decide to query this <3

2: Kristen

Okay first off Kristen is THE funniest character I’ve written. He is SO fun. I wish I was his bestie but he’s also been my bestie since 2013. We meet him in the gender neutral bathrooms being annoyed by a very rich and very tone deaf girl. Classism and the UK class divide is one of the biggest themes of this novel, and Kristen is a very proud working class Northerner (the North is massively underfunded and unsupported by the Gov compared to the South) and cannot stand the Tories (Conservative Party). Extremely fucking valid of him

(CW: blood)

“I’m Floss. Florence.” Of course she was. Fucking Florence. “Where are you from?”

You don’t look at her. Eyes on your reflection, the glittered cheekbones. You busy yourself with your eyeliner, gliding the pen over gaps and smudges that don’t exist. “Barnsley, babe.” It’s only a half lie this time - if you tell her you were born in Liverpool she’d probably look at you like you’re a dead rat on the side of a dodgy alleyway. But maybe that’d be better because then she’d leave you the fuck alone.

“Oh! That’s like well close isn’t it. I’m from Reigate.” Her voice breathes trust fund and Waitrose, tries to speak like it doesn’t. You try not to laugh.

“Reigate! I bet your parents are right little Tories, aren’t they?”

She playfully slapped your shoulder. She thinks you’re friends. "Not every rich person is a Tory!” Don’t roll your eyes don’t roll your eyes don’t roll your eyes. “Is that blood on your hands?”

“Huh?” You look: faded red dye dried to your palm, blotted on your fingertips. It is dye, because your hair is as of four hours ago a fierce “Real Red”. But it could be blood. “No, it’s hair dye.”

If you think he’s being harsh, she literally calls him a slur like 3 lines after this <3 Fuck rich people half of this book is me clowning on them.

Kristen’s recurring Imagery is blood, except sometimes it’s less clear if it’s actually blood or not. Once again, besties are you okay ????

3: Junie

Junie my beloved <3 love her so much. She finds Kristen in the bathroom, and they agree to look for Tomas, until Tomas texts to say he already left. But the biggest part of this chapter is the absolute crisis she has over kissing for a girl for the first time to ABBA :)

(CW: alcohol)

[image description: a disco ball against a red-purple background. The disco ball casts dots of light against the across the ceiling. At the bottom, in a white serif font, reads: “Dancing Queen bounces against the walls. The disco ball casts specks over the ceiling, floor, walls, your skin, hair, eyes like broken glass.” /end id]

You don’t listen to 80s music, or 70s, but this room is smaller than the main floor, not claustrophobic, less freshers. Yet, even without the mask of a crowd, nobody notices the girl in the corner kissing the other girl. A girl you don’t know. You’d only gone up to her because she has purple hair and you had to tell her how much you love it - what dye is it? Professional or homemade? Did you have to bleach your hair? Professional or homemade? Will your hair fall out if you bleach it at home? If you dye your hair purple, do you become part of the Milky Way or part of Andromeda? She turns and sticks her tongue out to display her fresh tongue piercing, like a silver bullet lodged in flesh. “Dance with me, you look lost.” She has an allure to her, the Andromeda hair, the bullet in the tongue - do you want to pull it out with your teeth, or lodge it in your own skin? But she asks you to dance, and you fall into her orbit, if only for a few songs. Dancing Queen bounces against the walls. The disco ball casts specks over the ceiling, floor, walls, your skin, hair, eyes like broken glass. Her tongue in your mouth, yours in hers, bullet grazing against your lips. She tastes of vodka and cherries and metal.

I really, really feel for Junie. She’s recently out, and she’s only just navigating what it means to exist as a lesbian. She kisses a girl and immediately regrets it, because she’s a hopeless romantic and was hoping her first kiss with a girl wouldn’t be in the back of a club, but she also doesn’t regret it because it was a good kiss and they’ll never see each other again lol. Junie’s recurring imagery is glass and once again, besties are you okay

4: Junie

I don’t know how I feel about back to back POV chapters but that’s just how this set worked. The next 3 are immediately after the events of the first 3, after they’ve all left the club. Kristen and Junie walk home together, and most of this and his subsequent chapter is establishing relationship dynamics and <3 this story made me love writing dialogue y’all. This story has a lot of dark elements, so it’s really refreshing to be able to have the light-hearted moments as well. Like these characters are all going through it but they’re also Gen Z 20 year olds who grew up using humour to cope like what else are they meant to do

“We should’ve got that flat on Brunswick. It’s literally down the street from the SU - we’d just have to walk down a hill and then we’d be home.” He complains.

“Kristen, that flat had a rat problem. I saw one scurrying behind the oven.”

“Yeah, and we live with Tomas Meijer now, so what’s the difference?” He faces you, walks backwards, grin plastered on his face.

“That was mean.” You feign annoyance. You sound like a schoolteacher.

“It’s just how we are, you know. The love hate relationship. Like night and day or some shit. I’d kill for that boy but like, he’s still a rat. He’s the same to me - did he tell you he called me a malnourished ferret once in first year? In English and Dutch. Don’t even remember what it is in Dutch but he really came at me with two knives like that.”

Kristen and Junie don’t really know each other well - Junie is Tomas’ friend from class and Kristen and Tomas met in dorms, and a series of shitty housemates in second year brought them all together. It’s funny because I really worried Junie would end up with no clear place in the group and more like a third wheel to Kristen and Tomas but as I started writing I realised that her and Kristen are gonna become besties like. Instantaneously. Love this for them <3

5: Kristen

Essentially mirrors the last chapter. Him and Junie arrive home and have a heart to heart in the living room about gender <3 I love this for them <3

6: Tomas

Tomas goes home with Damiano and they hook up, which is very out of character for Tomas so it’s like his I Am So Random. I Can’t Believe I Just Did That moment. Damiano is a really sweet dude though it’s all good, but he’s here to stay and I can just tell it’s gonna get messy :/ I actually really love how this chapter came out but whilst I have no problem with reading or writing non-explicit sex scenes I’m also like a would rather die than put that on tumblr dot com oops

7: Kristen

we’ve skipped a week ahead to the day before semester starts, and the next three chapters are basically like a character study of where each of them are mentally. It’s not the best :/ This is also the point where Day 1 Of Camp me had literally no idea what I was doing. LCOMS is different from the way I pants Revelations, Revelations because with the latter I find it much easier to brainstorm scenes in my head but with this one, it really is a surprise until I open the doc. It’s created some really interesting moments though.

Kristen visits an amateur photographer friend named Kasia to model for her. I struggled to find anything that included info I’m fine with sharing, but I learnt a LOT about Kristen and his mental state, which was surprising since he’s lived in my head rent free for 8 years now. It’s messy <3 The summary: he sees himself as a mannequin, and he decides that he likes it that way, but he also doesn’t know who’s moving his joints into poses. Bestie???

8: Junie

Junie unpacks her room a week after moving in. Autistic queen <3 This is one of the unfinished chapters, and I have zero motivation to finish it because there’s a scene missing and I cannot for the life of me figure out what it is. The gist of it though is she FaceTimes a friend from secondary school that definitely was her gay awakening that she only realised was her gay awakening in the last year. Messy <3

9: Tomas

One of my favourite chapters. It’s split into two halves, a light-hearted moment of all three housemates at a superstore because <3 grocery store scenes my beloved <3 and then Tomas’ Everything Is Bad exploration at the end. There’s a moment in the first half where Tomas and Kristen have a heart to heart in the candle aisle, and Tomas asks Kristen where he thinks they’ll be in their thirties. I winged this in a sprint and I’m obsessed with it, it’s all about the ~dynamic~

“Well, he has student debt for one. But that’s not on him. That’s on the Tories. But I like to think they’ll be out of power by then. Boris might even be dead, if we’re lucky. But again, not on me.” He’s quiet again. You watch him think. “He’d be a music teacher probably, or an English teacher. But like, a cool one. He doesn’t teach secondary school because he doesn’t hate himself. Maybe a Sixth Form, or even better a Uni. His students would love him because he’d be able to take a joke and also like, not hound on them for having mental illnesses or life struggles?” Neither of you look at the aisles anymore, just circle the home section of Big Tesco. “He’d also do a lot of charity work. He has a foundation-charity-thing for queer and autistic kids to get accessible music lessons, because creative therapy is like, the best thing - besides Prozac but I digress - and it’d be better than the old white men from CAMHs who act like you don’t exist by your eighteenth birthday. And he’d have a cool little flat in Sheffield where the landlord lets him paint the walls so every room is a different colour. Turquoise kitchen. Magenta Living room. Lavender bedroom. Mint bathroom.” He looks at you like he forgot you were there. “You really let me ramble like that in the middle of Big Tesco, huh? That felt like a fucking therapy moment.” He laughs a little, like he’s nervous.

“Nah, it was a good answer. Maybe if Tomas-in-his-thirties doesn’t move back to the Netherlands, he’ll rent the apartment next to Kristen-in-his-thirties.”

Kristen pouts. “Aw, you don’t wanna be my roomie anymore?”

“No, you called me an animal for eating pineapple on pizza.”

“Deserved. And you called me a malnourished ferret.”

You smile. “You’re not gonna let that down, are you?”

He smiles. “Of course not.”

Kristen tells Tomas he knows Something Happened to him over summer, and gets him to promise to tell him when he’s ready. The second half of the chapter takes place back at the house. Tomas is grieving, and it’s starting to creep into all elements of his thought. In this one specifically, he’s reminded of his top surgery and his memories in the hospital for that starts to blend with his memory of being in the hospital to grieve. Tomas is interesting as trans rep because like, he is trans rep curated for me specifically <3 Tomas was a huge comfort character for me when I was younger and when I realised I was trans, I looked at him and was like oh. He had a very smooth coming out and transitioning process (bc mine is the opposite and I need to project :) ), but right now he views his transness as like, a chapter of his life that was important but is now closed, so he doesn’t think about it a lot anymore, but the combo of grief and its mental impacts causes him to think about it more and he realises he has a very unhealthy internal relationship with his transness. Whilst the big idea at the start of Tomas’ arc is to show trans peace, I really wanted to take a moment to acknowledge the grieving process that comes with being trans. Literally the moment that made me realise “oh god, this is real and I can’t ignore it” was googling “im scared i might be trans” and realising how normal those tangled feelings are. Tomas’ experience of it is only fleeting, but I wanted to show that it’s normal. That being said, there’s no transphobia in this story. It is ultimately a Trans Peace story but also a trans story that, for me at least, is realistic. And the thoughts don’t last long, because his mind circles back to the grieving process.

(CW: graphic surgery and hospital imagery, vomit mention, death)

[image description: a darkened picture of an empty hospital room. The only light comes in through the window through thin white curtains. In the middle, in a white serif font, reads “ Scalpel gliding across the chest; were the cuts they made as thin as the line between surgery and autopsy? “ /end id]

Picture this: The hospital room. Clinical lights like exit wounds in the ceiling. Everything hurts. Haven’t slept properly in weeks. Can barely eat without it coiling and tangling in your stomach only for nothing to come up when you heave over the toilet. Messy hair, sunken eye bags. Dull eyes. The hospital room. The hospital halls. The hospital waiting room. The hospital car park. The drive to the hospital. The sleepless night before the hospital visit. The locked in the armchair next to the phone waiting for the hospital to call. The silence shrills harsher than the phone’s ring. But ask yourself this: who’s in the bed? You or him? The memories are different but the same. Oil and water. Shouldn’t be mixed. But it’s hard not to. Picture the two of you on the operating table and on the metal slab. Too far from reality to feel skin slice. Scalpel gliding across the chest; were the cuts they made as thin as the line between surgery and autopsy?

There’s a lot of paragraphs in the story that start with Picture This:. I have no idea what it means, it just reads cool lmao

10: Junie

we skip around 3 weeks now to see how the kids are dealing with the start of semester and well. They’re managing! Junie actually has a good chapter here, because she experiences Baby’s First Queer Class Crush

[image description: a purple sunset with a large pink cloud. In the middle, in a white serif font, reads you notice her background is of a purple sunset. You wonder if purple is her favourite colour like you and if she took it and if she likes photography and if she’d take photos of you “ /end id]

You listen, touch type your notes without properly processing the words yet, but instead of studying the PowerPoint, you study her: how she tucks a strand of black hair - free from her messy bun - behind her ear. The three studs in her earlobe, three little gold stars. The way her eyebrows furrow when she’s confused, and the way her face relaxes when she figures it out. How she touch types like you, how her two brass bracelets jangle and how you’re the only one that hears it. She minimises Word briefly, and you notice her background is of a purple sunset. You wonder if purple is her favourite colour like you and if she took it and if she likes photography and if she’d take photos of you. Lavender polo shirt, lavender perfume. She doesn’t wear make-up, but a tiny black heart sits under left eye.

Junie’s dreams of a photographer girlfriend are quickly shattered when she admits the photo’s from Pinterest, but otherwise this is so <3 the sapphic crisis of it all.

You walk out together, and she tells you she only got into Sheffield that weekend, and it was a nightmare to explain to the tutors why. “It’s like, they forget we have lives sometimes. Lives we can’t control.” She shakes her head. “It’s okay now though, I’m here now.”

You almost trip on the stairs up to the main floor, and her hand is warm against your wrist. Your cheeks redden, but she just asks if you’re okay, smiles when you are. Tells you she’s late for a seminar, but it was lovely to meet you. Thanks again for the lecture notes. Calls you a lifesaver. Fades into the between-classes rush. You’re glad she’s here now.

again she is so <3 i get it babes i get it <3

In other news, at the end of the chapter Kristen drops the most relatable line of the entire fucking book:

“You know how like, when it rains, all the worms come out and do a funky little dance? Yeah so basically: the rain is LIT3001 right. And the worms are all of my mental illnesses.”

11: Tomas

Tomas turns 21 on October 13th so naturally like anyone in his early 20s he has multiple crisis’ about it. I still haven’t figured this chapter ~out yet but it sure exists! It just sucks the same way it sucks to be a young adult in the late 2010s. But here’s Kristen being the most relatable character in the book again and getting bullied for it :/

(CW: alcohol)

"I still can't believe you both do a science. Like, it actually baffles me - I could not be more further from that." Kristen refills his glass, measures the vodka level with his index. "Just a babe and his silly little BA against the world."

"You know if you wanna be a BA babe you have to actually, like, graduate."

12: Kristen

Kristen is personally like I will pretend my degree does not exist and honestly? I get it King. He visits his Dad, since he only lives 30 minutes away, but most of the chapter is him thinking about Tomas and their messy friendship and the fact that Tomas is kinda ghosting him despite literally living together :/ Anyway here’s Kristen’s cat :)

Mar snoozes on your pillow, half curled like a croissant. Orange fluff against grey sheets, and you’re not mad at the fur debris she’ll inevitably leave. Her head pops up when you sit next to her, “you forget about me yet?”. You scratch her head and it’s like you’re 12 again and you don’t have to worry about rent or degrees or masters applications or careers or groceries or housemates and you haze through Sundays snoozing in bed with your new kitten. Technically she was a birthday present, but dad couldn’t wait an extra month to adopt her. Said he saw it in her eyes at the shelter, that she belonged here. You named her Marmalade because you were a dumbass eleven year old and also thought marmalade was the shit back then. She stretches her legs and yawns. Plops her head back down, back to sleep. “Yeah, me too.”

13: Tomas

The next three chapters centre around each character’s Halloween, because <3 Halloween my beloved <3. Tomas’ starts off with him and Kristen being ~homoerotic and him being a ~disaster about it.

w[image description: a photo of a blue planet - Neptune - against a black background. In the middle, in a white serif font, reads “You don’t know which palette he’s using, but you remember his favourite is space themed: Mars red, Neptune blue, Jupiter orange - you try to guess which planet he thinks looks best against olive. He taps the brush against the palette. Imagine the planets. How they dandelion in the air.” /end id]

When you sit in front of him, your knees press together. When he tilts your head up, thumb on chin, nail grazing the curve of your lip, his hand is ice on your skin. He studies your face, you close your eyes. When he pulls back, you swear you still feel his thumbprint on your skin. You don’t know which palette he’s using, but you remember his favourite is space themed: Mars red, Neptune blue, Jupiter orange - you try to guess which planet he thinks looks best against olive. He taps the brush against the palette. Imagine the planets. How they dandelion in the air. He holds your head in place, hand sprawls over you cheek like veins. Brushes colour into your eye socket. Underneath the radiator, your phone buzzes twice. Don’t say anything. Ignore your heartbeat.

(before this Tomas threw his phone at the radiator because someone texted him :) yeah okay mood :) )

this story is really about the ~gay disasters and also the ~dialogue

You flop onto your bed, arms crossed over your face. “I dunno. I might just print off all the emails Uni's sent me about my dissertation. Staple them to a jacket and tell people I'm going as mental illness."

"Tomas, if you want to go as mental illness then you don't need a costume at all."

Unfortunately the rest of the chapter is not as fun because plot had to happen but this first scene was :)

14: Junie

Junie is not a fan of Halloween so she gives up halfway through the night and invites the girl she met in her lecture over to bake cookies at 1am instead. Fellas is this gay?

(CW: alcohol)

The girl in the kitchen brought cookie cutters in pink Tupperware. She explains she’s had them since she was eight, but she hasn’t had a chance to use them this Autumn. She has seven: cat, butterfly, crescent moon, heart, three stars matryoshka’d together. “I have more, these are just my go to ones. I’m a bit of a collector.” She lines them up on the counter, you trace the outline of the cat. She says she didn’t want to bring too many, but she likes having the options with no plan, the potential. You want to tell her that, after you invited her over, you spritzed the counters with lavender surface cleaner twice and tucked the discarded vodka and raspberry liqueur bottles in the cabinet you can barely reach. You piled unfolded laundry into your closet and hid drooping plants behind your closed curtains when you had zero intention of her inviting her to your room. You want to ask her why she said yes, why she replied in two minutes at one in the morning, and you want to ask her why people feel the need to cookie cutter themselves into a false potential. She asks if you want to bake with coconut or chocolate chip.

she is actually such a disaster around girls i love her so much

The girl in your kitchen clears up glass that isn’t hers. You drop the measuring jug and it fireworks against tile. No shards lodge in your skin. Whilst she cleans, insists that it’s okay, you brew peppermint tea because you insist it’s the least you can do. The girl tells you a story about how she did the exact same thing, when she was nine, and her mother shrieked so loud the neighbours banged at the door a minute later. She laughs, muted. You apologise again. She insists it’s okay again. Rain hardens against the window, looks like TV static. You breathe in the peppermint steam.

The biggest thing I’ve learnt since drafting is that, at it’s core, this is a love story. And that makes me so excited because so many people, especially in mainstream media, still think that autistic people are incapable of love - or even worse, undeserving.

15: Kristen

Kristen’s favourite holiday is Halloween so naturally on his special day I had to make him go through it :) I can’t share a lot of this, but it feels right to end this beast of an update on this beast of an excerpt because it came to me out of absolutely nowhere and it is one of my favourite passages I’ve ever written OOPS

(CW: death, parental death)

[image description: a cluster of stars against a dark blue, almost black sky. In the middle, in a white serif font, reads “You want to ask your dad how something can end if for you it never began, but he’s asleep in his armchair back home. You look at the stars. You wonder if any of them are her.“ /end id]

You’ve mapped Sheffield’s streets since 13 so you know you’re walking the wrong way. This isn’t the way to Crookes. This isn’t the way out the city centre. You should order an Uber. You keep walking. You stop at a crossing. There’s no cars. You don’t cross. The traffic light flashes red and bleeds on your face. The stars are out tonight, and now it’s 2004 and you’re in the lounge with Lion King in the VHS. You’re off sick and your neighbour - Mel, recently retired, recently widowed - nurses a glass of brandy in your dad’s armchair because you don’t know it yet, but he can’t afford to miss work. You’re sprawled on the dusty-red rug when Simba and Mufasa sprawl in the grass and Mufasa tells Simba that all the stars are the Kings of the past and they are watching over him. You ask recently retired, recently widowed Mel if that’s true; her smile is happy but her eyes are sad and she says “yes, and not just Kings. Nobody leaves Earth, they just move to the stars.”

Ten minutes later, Mufasa is flung off a gorge’s edge; you haven’t studied storytelling yet, but you understand those two moments are connected. And when you relay this to dad over ready made pasta that evening, you ask him if people really live in the stars: Sometimes, when they can’t live here anymore. Then you ask if they can come back from the stars: No, but people remember them. They’ll tell stories about them, so people don’t forget. Then you ask if memories and stories are like stars: A little. Then you ask why they can’t live here anymore: It’s hard to explain, Kris.

After dinner, he lets you play on the plastic slide in the garden as he scrubs the dishes. You climb to the top and try to see faces in the stars, but it’s too cloudy. And after that but before bedtime, you’re sprawled on the dusty-red rug again, and Lion King is in the VHS again, and as Simba and Nala are bathed by their mothers again, your five year old mind connects what’s different about you. You go to ask dad about it, but he’s asleep in his armchair. It’s 2018, you’re stood on a phantom street in Sheffield. You want to ask your dad how something can end if for you it never began, but he’s asleep in his armchair back home. You look at the stars. You wonder if any of them are her.

And I usually don’t do this, but I think the playlist for this wip is absolutely fucking elite, so here’s a handful of the songs that I think encapsulate the story the best:

The Wombats – Greek Tragedy

Duncan Laurence – Arcade

FKA Twigs – Two Weeks

Peach Pit – Alrighty Aphrodite

Khalid – Saturday Nights

Alfie Templeman – Stop Thinking (About Me)

Rina Sawayama – 10-20-40

If you read this far, then I love you and we shall have a platonic wedding this summer. But I cannot express how excited I am about this story and to see where it goes!

#atlastracking #LCOMS #writing update #amwriting #seriously though i have had the best week but also my brain? a fried egg #sfoidhfsdf even before the cut this post is long i hate it here #long post

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writing-with-l · 3 years

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Our Forgotten Devils: Chapter One

Hi darlings! So, in honour of reaching 100 followers earlier this week, I’ve decided to post the first draft of the opening chapter of Our Forgotten Devils! (Still very much a work in progress, but it’s a start!) 💛

Taglist: @corkythewriteblr @mel-writes-with-her-dragons @ashen-crest @thelaughingstag @imthefutureauthor @fiercely-raging-writer

(Text continues under the cut)

I: The Knocking Unceasing

It’s a little after midnight when I wake up. My awareness of myself and my surroundings returns slowly and, when it does, the first things I notice are the sore neck and the twisted spine, a consequence of falling asleep on my cheap sofa while watching some god-awful spy thriller earlier in the night. I rub my eyes with a clumsy fist and an involuntary groan of discomfort, dragging myself into a position that vaguely resembles sitting upright.

Reluctantly, I open my eyes fully, and I regret it a mere second later. In the corner across from me, the TV is still turned on, sending a harsh glaring light emanating through my living room which stings my tired eyes. The program has changed now, though: gone is the cliche crap from earlier. Instead, a newsreader wearing a crisp navy business suit and a fixed grim expression stares blankly straight into the camera, reading aloud from the prompts in front of her.

“... a body, discovered this morning, which is the third murder in the city since last week. A police department spokesperson has confirmed this evening that, like the previous murders, the victim was found slit open from neck to navel. Local residents have been urged to avoid travelling alone late at-”

I manage to dig the remote out from where it had been lost between the sofa cushions and punch the OFF button firmly. No one in their right mind wants to listen to that shit when they’re alone in their apartment in the middle of the night, and I’m no exception. Too many real-life horror stories at midnight and my imagination will start to give eyes and limbs to the shadows that creep around the dim corners of my apartment. Already the darkness pressing in on me from all sides has begun to make me a little uneasy, and I see no good reason to make that worse. Something nags in the back of my mind - that odd feeling you get when you think you should remember something but you don’t - but I dismiss it. I’ll only overthink it, like I usually do, and by that point any hope of sleep will be nothing more than an unachievable fantasy.

There’s silence now. I push myself up off the sofa, fully intending to head for the comfort of my bed, when something stops me in my tracks. The silence is suddenly shattered by a sharp knock on my front door. It startles me enough that I jump backwards almost on instinct, and the back of my shin collides with the pointed corner of the glass coffee table, causing me to swear under my breath.

The knocking continues - harsh, forceful, almost desperate knocking - and I make my way to the door, stumbling over my own abandoned shoes. I have no idea who the hell could possibly be looking for me in the middle of the night, but there’s something about the urgency of that insistent knocking that makes me rush to answer it. It takes me a few minutes of fumbling to get the bolt and chain undone and, as I do, my mind races. I’m not sure who I expect to see on the other side of the door, and my brain is working overtime trying to figure it out in the next ten seconds - family? a friend? the police, even? - but none of the answers I can come up with ease the tug of anxiety in my stomach. In my experience, if something is serious enough to warrant an interruption in the middle of the night, chances are it’s not going to be good news.

In a decisive attempt at silencing my anxiety, I yank open the door.

A figure stands in my doorway. It takes me a minute, as my eyes sweep over their profile, but when the realisation finally hits me, it does so with enough force to knock the air from my lungs.

“Alex…” It comes out like a gasp, faint and surprised.

I don’t know what it was that I expected to see when I opened that door, but it sure as hell wasn’t Alexander Michaelis. I haven’t heard a thing from him in just over five years; ever since he left town in a hurry one cold September morning, since all my texts and calls were met first with single sentences, then with one-word answers, and then finally with radio silence. Standing in front of me now, he looks the same as he did back then - a little older, of course, but otherwise identical - and the sight causes my heart to miss a beat.

Alex shifts nervously, his eyes downcast, studiously examining the threadbare hallway carpet. “I- I didn’t know where else to go.” His voice sounds shaky, almost frightened, and it makes my anxiety return with force. “Can I- can I come in?”

“Yeah,” I say automatically. For a moment, that’s all I can say, my mind somewhat overwhelmed with shock and confusion. “Yeah, of course. What’s going on? Is everything okay?”

Alex doesn’t answer me right away. He hesitates in the hallway for a moment, gaze flickering between the floor and my face like he can’t believe I’m really standing in front of him. I imagine my face must look something similar. He takes a step across the threshold and into my apartment, but he doesn’t get much further than that before he all but collapses into me. My arms move to hold him almost of their own accord: it’s like a reflex, something I couldn’t control even if I wanted to. I’m not entirely sure how I feel about that, but it doesn’t matter, I’ve got more important things to think about right now. Like the fact that Alex isn’t wearing any kind of jacket, and I realise that he’s cold as ice and shaking like a leaf.

“Christ, you’re freezing!” I mutter, even though I don’t suppose that information will be a surprise to him.

I lead him into my apartment and across to the kitchen, and he follows easily but unsteadily, as if he’s uncertain on his feet. I sit him down at the kitchen table, in the chair closest to the radiator which I reach down and turn up to full. Alex stares blankly in front of him, running his forefinger repetitively across one of the grooves in the wooden table. Shrugging my own jacket off, I drape it around his shoulders like some pathetic excuse for an emergency blanket. He pulls it tighter around himself and mumbles a quiet “thanks”, while I busy myself with switching the kettle on.

Once it’s boiled, I fill two chipped mugs with steaming tea and sit down opposite him, pushing one of the mugs across the table towards him. Tea was always my nana’s solution to everything. Too cold? Tea. Can’t sleep? Tea. Flynn’s having a panic attack again? Tea. I suppose she rubbed off on me more than I thought. Alex takes the tea with one hand and offers me a small smile, though his eyes are still staring downwards and the repetitive movement of his other hand doesn’t stop. My own hands are shaking, almost imperceptibly though, and I don’t quite know why.

As Alex drinks his tea, I take the moment to look at him properly under the harsh flickering kitchen light, and I realise that I was wrong before: he doesn’t look the same. His light blond hair, once sleek and styled, looks like it hasn’t been washed in days, dishevelled in a way that seems to suggest countless hours of nervous hands combing through the platinum strands. His blue eyes, bright and sparkling in my memory, are now dull and tired, bloodshot and rimmed with red. He looks like he’s been through hell and, in spite of the years that have passed, it still makes something clench in my chest.

“Alex, what’s going on?” I ask again.

He drains the last of his tea and carefully sets the mug back down on the table, before lifting his head to meet my gaze. It’s the first time tonight he’s actually properly looked me in the eye. When he finally speaks, his voice is hollow.

“Ana’s missing.”

#wip: our forgotten devils #wip #mywriting #my writing #writeblr #paranormal fiction #supernatural fiction #mystery writing #mystery fiction #writing #original fiction

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loverhymeswith · 2 years

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Straight to My Head | Takeshi Kovacs x F!Reader | Five

Masterlist

Warnings: Language, violence, guns, blood, injury, kidnapping

Word Count: 3,125 words

A/N: It's here. The final chapter. I'm sorry Tumblr ate your request, @a-reader-and-a-writer, but thank you so much for being such an amazing cheerleader for this story. I know that if it wasn't for you I would have abandoned this long ago. Thank you for all the beta-reading and helping me with the plot. You're the best!

Tak leans against the wall, arms folded firmly across his chest as he stares at the two guards stationed outside the meeting room. His expression might be one of boredom, but he can sense their trepidation. Clearly, these men are aware of exactly who he is and what he’s capable of. It’s the same story wherever he goes – strangers shooting fearful looks in his direction and stepping out of his path. Talk about his reputation preceding him.

Tonight, it’s a blessing rather than a curse. He wants these men to know that although his guns have been confiscated, he could take them both down in a matter of seconds.

While he waits for you to emerge, Tak can’t stop ruminating over your earlier conversation. Your admission troubles him more than he’d normally care to admit. You were so afraid that you had done something wrong; the image of your beautiful face, full of worry, is branded painfully on the back of his mind. But this is all on him. He never should have let you walk away that night.

As the minutes wear on, Tak decides that as soon as the meeting is over, the two of you need to talk – really talk. He doubts your father will notice if you’re late returning. He’ll take you some place quiet. No distractions. For the first time, he’ll put his heart on the line. Because seeing you tonight has made him realise that he doesn’t want to let you go. Not again.

Caught up so thoroughly in thoughts of you, Tak loses track of time. It’s only when a loud alert chimes from the depths of his coat pocket that he’s brought reeling back into the present. His heart lurches. He set the Hawkeye tracker to notify him only if you left the building without him.

Shit.

He narrows his focus towards the door and the two men standing guard before it. They’ve heard the tracker too, and are glancing at one another, confusion written on their faces. He has a split second to decide what to do.

“Times up,” he grunts, pushing off the wall.

“Not so fast.” The shorter and burlier of the two guards takes a step towards him. “We say when the meeting’s over.”

“You expect me to believe they let you call the shots?” Tak scoffs, unfolding his arms and widening his stance. “I suggest you get out of my way.”

The taller guard begins moving towards him, too, although his footsteps are hesitant. “You’re in no position to be making demands.”

“Oh, that wasn’t a demand,” Tak states plainly. “But this is: you have two seconds to tell me where they’re taking her, or you’ll be begging for real death. And I know your bosses don’t like to waste money on re-sleeving.”

The tracker bleeps again inside his pocket, confirming that you’re still on the move. Anxiety eats away at him as he realises his gut feeling about tonight was correct, but he can’t let himself be overwhelmed. Without a clear head, he’s of no use to you.

The two men share another silent look. Tak doesn’t miss the apprehension behind their otherwise empty eyes, but before he can make his next move, another pair of guards emerge from around the corridor. Still, he’s unfazed. He’s taken on twice this number of CTAC soldiers single-handedly. As long as he doesn’t let his fear for you get the better of him, these insignificant thugs are nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

Tak waits for the first guard to make his move, blocking the blow with precision and ease. It’s second nature to him, predicting where they will strike. If the stakes weren’t so high, he might have waited for them to tire themselves out – a predator tormenting his prey. Tonight, there’s no time for theatrics. When he takes his first shot, it doesn’t miss. A knee to the groin, a fist to the sternum. The guard crumples to the ground.

Tak allows the next man to get in a lucky hit. The blow splits his lip, but he doesn’t care. He deserves it. In fact, he deserves much more than this small amount of pain for letting you out of his sight. How could he have been so careless?

Spitting out a mouthful of blood, he grabs the fallen guard’s gun and puts a bullet through his assailant’s shoulder.

The fight is over in a matter of minutes, with the final two guards rapidly succumbing to their comrades’ fate. Once again, Tak finds himself walking away from the brawl almost entirely unscathed and leaving a pile of bodies in his wake.

As he proceeds to kick down the door of the meeting room, every nerve in his body is tense, every muscle coiled and ready to spring into action.

Logically, he knows he’s not going to find you here. The tracker has already told him as much, but he still curses, loudly and roughly, when he confirms that the room is deserted. A quick survey shows no evidence of a struggle, but that does little to ease his concern. He doubts you’d have gone anywhere willingly, not without letting him know first.

After storming back through the party, fear and fury simmering below his steely surface, Tak heads out into the night to find you.

You should have known better than to hope that this evening would go according to plan.

Then again, that might be an understatement. Because within seconds of entering the boardroom of Suntouch House, it became apparent that you were well and truly screwed.

The door had barely closed behind you when a painful jolt of electricity ran from the base of your spine to every cell in your body and, knees buckling, you fell to the floor.

Finding yourself surrounded by Yakuza thugs, with Kovacs completely clueless and stuck on the other side of the soundproofed door, one thing was made immediately clear. This was no meeting. No deal was waiting to be signed.

Your final thought, before another jolt of electricity ripped through your body and everything went dark, was of Kovacs. Of how you never got to tell him the truth. That night in the library, he stole a piece of your heart. But you don’t mind. It’s his to keep.

You have no idea how long you’ve been unconscious, but when your eyes finally flutter open, you find yourself in what can only be described as a basement, tied to an uncomfortable wooden chair, your wrists and ankles painfully restrained.

The space is dark and smells of damp. A watery yellow glow casts light on your surroundings and as the world comes back into focus, you realise that the leader of the Yakuza is sitting before you, amusement etched across his scarred face.

“What am I doing here?” you demand, fear clinging tightly to every word. Your muscles ache from the current they used to immobilise you and you’ve bitten through your lip, the metallic taste of blood filling your mouth.

The man who’s been threatening your family for months – Kimura - continues to watch you in silence, enraptured, as if you’re a fascinating wild animal that he’s managed to snare in his trap.

Panic begins to take hold under the pressing weight of his gaze, but struggling against the binds proves futile. The plastic ties only cut further into your skin and you feel beads of blood begin to run along the back of your hands. The lack of ONI on your wrist is as obvious as it is devastating; you have no way of contacting the outside world, no way of calling for help.

Silence gives way to the sound of the man clicking his tongue against his teeth, his expression morphing into one of disappointment. “Your father didn’t tell you, did he?”

Blinking back tears of frustration, you set your jaw. “He told me you had a deal. More territory in exchange for my family’s safety.” The words come out garbled as you fight to put the brakes on your rising anxiety.

When Kimura laughs in response, the sound is horribly musical, grating against your already frayed nerves.

“Oh, sweet girl.” He shakes his head. “You have been misinformed. This is the deal.”

Another pang of fear grips you by the throat. “What are you talking about?”

He leans forwards in his seat, a cruel smile slowly forming as he speaks. “Your father owes us money. A significant amount. But, as I’m sure you are aware, his wealth is tied up in assets that he doesn’t want to lose.”

You nod faintly, your thoughts racing as you attempt to figure out what this has to do with you.

Kimura continues. “Fortunate then, that he had taken out insurance policies on all of his children, protecting precisely against this eventuality.”

“Wh - what eventuality?”

“Kidnapping. Hostage-taking.” He shrugs. “Call it what you want. But when the policy pays out, your father will deliver my money and then you are free to go. In the mean time, consider yourself collateral.”

Your mind is whirling. A planned kidnapping? That would amount to insurance fraud. Not that you would put it past your father, but it doesn’t explain why he would send Kovacs with you. What would be the sense in a bodyguard tagging along if the goal was for you to be taken?

A nasty little voice begins to whisper dark thoughts in the back of your mind. The Yakuza got this far, didn’t they? How did they get past the envoy?

Unless Kovacs is in on it, too.

Your stomach churns with nausea. No. You refuse to believe that he would be a part of this. Distantly, you remember the tracker he placed over your stack back in the car. With your hands tied behind your back, you have no way of checking whether it’s still in place.

Kimura checks his ONI before rising to his feet. “I imagine your guard dog will have reported back to your father that we have you by now.”

It doesn’t answer your question over Kovacs’ loyalty, but the spark of something other than fear ignites at the mention of him.

Hope.

Hope, that is swiftly overshadowed when Kimura takes a step closer to you, his cold and clammy hand reaching down to caress your cheek.

“Such a beautiful creature. Do you know, out of all your siblings, I requested you specifically? Your father was most obliging. Tell me, how should we spend our time together? We have several hours before your father can raise the money. Plenty of time to have some fun, wouldn’t you say?”

Dread fills your veins like ice as his gaze travels over your body. You pull at the restraints again, but the results are still in vain. Tears run freely down your cheeks.

How could your father do this to you? What did you do to earn such treatment? He shows more care towards his material possessions than he does towards you, his own flesh and blood.

Your head slumps to your chest, all but ready to admit defeat, when the sound of shouting followed by a rapid succession of gunshots suddenly echoes through the basement. Your body tenses again, every part of you now clinging back onto that fragile sliver of hope.

The man standing before you might have the decency to look mildly concerned by whatever is happening outside the basement, but his cold mask soon slips back into place.

“I wouldn’t get your hopes up, sweetness. I have an army of guards out there. No one’s getting past them. They’d be foolish to even try.”

You refuse to let Kimura’s words dowse that spark. Without hope, you have nothing left. You stare back at him with glassy eyes, silent but defiant as the shouting and the shooting continues, drawing ever closer.

Your captor prowls forwards, blocking your view of the basement door entirely. There’s a tightness to his eyes that gives him away and your fingers, sticky with blood, flex behind your back. The crippling fear has now been replaced by anticipation. Whatever is going on behind that door, it clearly wasn’t part of his plan.

Your heart pounds furiously in your chest.

Tak, is that you?

Behind Kimura, the door flies open and bright fluorescent light floods the room. Before the Yakuza boss can turn around, you hear the tell-tale click of a trigger being squeezed.

A scream tears from your lips as Kimura’s stack is blown out, crimson blood splattering all over your white dress.

The man slumps forward, hitting the ground face first with an almighty thud. Without his body in your line of sight, you can finally lay eyes on your saviour.

Relief crashes over you. Your hope was not misplaced.

Takeshi Kovacs stands framed by the open doorway; a huge gun held tightly in his grip. He lowers it slowly, the fury slipping from his expression as his gaze lands on your face.

In three long strides he’s by your side, his bloody hands gently cupping your cheeks and turning your head from side to side. There’s a haunting tone of fear in his voice when he speaks, one you’ve never heard before.

“Are you ok? Did they touch you?”

You shake your head, afraid to open your mouth. Afraid that once you do, the floodgates will open.

Taking in the sight of your restraints, Kovacs crouches low and pulls out a wicked looking blade from inside his boot. It cuts through the plastic ties with ease.

Once your limbs are freed, he helps you to your feet. “We need to get the hell out of here. Can you walk?”

You nod, still not brave enough to speak. Kovacs either doesn’t notice your silence or it doesn’t concern him for the time being. Either way, he slings an arm around your waist and guides you around the body – around the blood pooling on the ground.

There’s another way out of the basement; a concealed exit at the other end of the room. After using the gun to shoot off the lock, Kovacs hurries you through the door and into the night.

There’s a chill in the air, prickling your bare skin, but you barely notice it. With his arm still wrapped firmly around you, Kovacs leads you around the back of what appears to be an abandoned warehouse in downtown Bay City. The car from earlier is parked in the shadows.

Only once you’re up in the air does Kovacs speak again and you find that the fear in his voice has given way once more to rage. “I never should have let you go in there alone.”

Without thinking, you reach for him. Your fingers find purchase on the sleeve of his coat. Like you, his clothes are splattered in blood that doesn’t belong to him.

“It’s not your fault. My father...” You trail off, wondering how much he might already know. “It was all planned.”

He frowns across at you. “What are you talking about? I assumed Kimura went back on his word.”

You shake your head, and as Kovacs drives through the night, you fill him in on your father’s scheme. You don’t fail to notice the way his fingers tighten around the wheel, or the way his jaw clenches. It’s clear he had no idea what your father was up to. The murderous glint in his eyes is evidence enough.

“What do we do now?” You wonder miserably, staring out into the night.

You have no idea where Kovacs is taking you, but if one thing is for certain, there’s no way your father is going to forgive you for destroying his plan. Without the insurance money, he’s still indebted to the Yakuza. The current boss might be dead by Kovacs’ hand, but another member will step up and take his place.

Kovacs looks at you across the car again, his face set in a grim line of determination. “Don’t ask me to take you back to him. Not after this.”

Your stomach flutters. It’s the last thing you want, but where else can you go? Without your father you have nothing but the torn and bloodstained dress on your back. Your line of credit will surely be terminated as soon as he finds out what’s happened...

Reading your thoughts, Kovacs’ own hand lands on your thigh and he squeezes you softly. “Come with me. Off-world.”

At first you assume you’ve misheard him. “What?”

He lets out a long breath, eyes returning to the sky ahead. Idly, you wonder how long its been since his last cigarette.

“I was going to talk to you after the meeting. I wanted to apologise for what happened that night. I should have told you there and then how much you meant to me. Never should have let you walk away. But I was a coward. What would someone like you want with someone like me?”

“Someone like you?” Your eyes widen. “Tak, in all my years I have never met a better man than you.”

Your fingers slowly trail along his sleeve before reaching for his chest. You press your hand over his heart, reassured by the steady pulse. Does it beat for you like yours beats for him?

“Tak?” He repeats with the ghost of a smirk slowly returning to his beautiful face. “You know how much I love the sound of my name on your lips?”

You shake your head, a smile tugging at your mouth. The adrenaline is gradually dissipating now that you’re safe in Kovacs’ presence.

He taps a button on the dashboard so the car slows to a stop, but continues to hover amongst the clouds. Twisting in his seat to face you, he cups your jaw, his thumb drifting over your bloody lip.

“I’d spend an eternity just listening to your voice,” he murmurs. “If you’d have me.”

Your gaze travels over his face, cataloguing the new cuts and bruises. With a glimmer of amusement, you realise his split lip matches your own.

“Fighting again?” You murmur, reaching up to run your fingers across his jaw.

He leans closer, until your lips are brushing. "I’d do anything for you. And if that means taking you back to The Aerium, I will. Even if it kills me to do it.”

“I don’t want that, Tak. I want you.”

His eyes shutter. “Are you sure you? Because there will be no going back. Your father-”

You close the distance and kiss him, your hands weaving through the lengths of his hair as you pull him closer. When you break away you brush a strand of hair from his brow and whisper, “There’s nothing I want more.”

Joel Taglist: @a-reader-and-a-writer @babblydrabbly @yespolkadotkitty @skvatnavle @sociiallydiisoriiented @edwardbaldwin @fairchildflag @bewitchedignition @lavenderluna10 @weallhaveadestiny @kirsteng42 @katjnordstrom96 @s-u-t @heresathreebee @mayhem24-7forever @immyownlittlebitch @christinasyellowflowers

Story taglist: @se-fucking-hun @dazzledamazon @brujademente

#takeshi kovacs #joel kinnaman #takeshi kovacs x reader #takeshi kovacs x you #altered carbon #altered carbon fan fic #straight to my head

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swiss-cheeze · 4 years

Text

French Road, East || Spencer Reid

Request: YES/NO: Hi! Do you take requests?? If you do, can I please request a Spencer x Reader (Including the BAU), where they are dating and the reader is a year or so younger than spencer, but just as smart and very loved by the team, and one day she has to save the team from an unsub and gets really hurt and after everyone is safe they are all really worried about her?? Idk if that made sense at all. Love you work!

A/N: OKAY SO, myself and a few other tumblr accounts got sent this exact same request from the same requester. I have spoken with all of the accounts i know of that have gotten the request and we have all mutually agreed that we will continue with our own fics in our own way on the basis/sense of ‘every writer is different and it's cool to see how others interpret the same request’, please go check out their fics too but please also dont message any of us about this little thing thats happened or saying one was better than the other because that's not what we’re doing here.

We write because we love writing and we love making worlds and being creative, this is a mutual agreement, yes we’re not too pleased with this happening but we are fine with going ahead with both of our fics.

Thank you.

A/N: I also got a little carried away with this little thing and kind of forgot about the ‘they get hurt’ part and instead left the end open for angst purposes; possibly a second part if requested? I don't know. This is also 10 full pages on Google Docs.

Words: 5727

Gender: they/them, none.

Warnings: descripton of people being beaten, kidnapping, mention and use of drugs, previous trauma of the BAU team brought to light, mentions of sexual abuse and assualt, mentions of possible rape.

Description: when 6/8 of the BAU team gets kidnapped, it's up to you and Garcia to find them before it's too late, but what happens when an old nightmare may consume someone's life again?

PART 2: https://snitchthewitch.tumblr.com/post/626602019637149696/french-road-east-apartment-23-spencer-reid

------

Spencer had slept over at Dereks after they had both consulted over their paperwork while you had gone to yours and Spencer's apartment alone, normally you two would arrive at work together with coffee ready for the day but today it just felt...off. Coffee in hand you entered the elevator and checked your work phone for any missed messages.

Derek Morgan phone (4)

Derek Morgan imessage (6)

Spencer Reid phone (2)

Spencer Reid imessage (4)

Okay, that was a bit weird. They normally called once, maybe twice, had your phone shut down last night? As you entered onto level 6 you stepped off to the side of the opening on the hallway, out of people's way, as you opened your phone for the messages, Derek first.

‘Going out with Spence and Pen’

‘Spencer misses you’

‘Pen says she wants to hug you’

‘We’re fucjlkeddd’

‘I don't think somethings okay’

‘Pick up’

Fuck, okay, maybe they just encountered a mugger? Spencer next.

‘mISS YOUUU’

‘Derek ssaysys he doeessdnt frrl ojay’

‘Someoned follow us’

‘French road, east’

What the fuck? So apparently they got followed? And then? What the hell is french road east? Was it an actual road to the east? Maybe the voice messages would help.

“HEY (Y/N/N)!” its Derek, “WE’RE HAVING OUR BEST TIME! WISH YOU WERE HERE!” the music was as loud as Derek was shouting in your ear, you couldn't help but smile.

“(Y/N)!” Spencer, “I MISS YOUUU!” you laughed at his drunk talking, “SHOTS!” and it finished.

“Hey (Y/n), we’re uh,” a laugh, it's Derek, “we’re walking back to my place now, with Pen and Pretty Boy over here,” you heard a faint shout of your name before laughter and the call ended. There was one voice message left, “someones following us. Under six foot, black clothes and looks disarmed but I can't tell from where we are and it's dark. I'll update you later (Y/n), i'll keep Pretty Ricky safe. I promise” and that was it. You brought your phone away from your ear and looked at it skeptically, Derek's story was backed up by Spencer because they both said they were being followed, Garcia hasn't messaged you though, she probably got cut off from her phone before anything happened, probably in Derek's pants pocket. Maybe they were playing a prank? No they wouldn't, Derek’s voice was too certain to be a prank. You shook your head from the thoughts before walking into the Bullpen and dumping your bag at your desk and looking around, Anderson, Mike, Daffey, even Esmerelda was at work today and yet you couldn't spot a single one of your teammates.

Okay, maybe they all slept in? You walked up to Hotch's office and knocked before putting your head through the door; looks the same as it was left. Funny. Hotch was always the first one in, if he ever left at all. You walked to Rossi's office and yet this was the same as Hotch’s; untouched and unmoved. Okay, this was a little scary, you made your way to the conference room with quick feet as the creek of the door being opened sent a shiver down your spine as no one was waiting for a case or even grabbing coffee, but you did notice the one folder that sat alone in the middle of the table. Cautiously, you made your way over to the file, picked it up and opened it, the photos inside the folder almost made you throw up.

Hotch, Emily, Derek, Spencer, JJ and Rossi were all sitting against a wall, beaten, bruised and dirty, arms positioned behind their backs. Underneath the photo was a piece of paper with bold red writing, almost blood like.

YOU WERE WRONG.

Your throat constricted as your breathing increased, you started hyperventilating as you heard the click clack of a certain pair of heels.

“(Y/N)!” Garcia yelled, she was running as quickly as she could with her platform, a file and laptop in her arms, “the-the team they've” she took a breath, “they've been taken, captured, abducted!” it took Garcia a few seconds to realise that you were close to fainting. Garcia put her things down on the table as she directed you to sit in a chair, got you a cup of water and started the breathing exercises that she remembered Spencer teaching her, he taught everyone tricks to help those when having a panic or anxiety attack as its something they would definitely encounter during their time with both agents, victims and unsubs, a few minutes passed and you finally calmed down.

“T-they, they tried to contact me” you said quietly as you looked at Garcia who was red eyed.

“And i was there (Y/n), they dropped me off home and where going back to Dereks, i didn't know if they made it or not because i had already past out by the time my head hit the pillow” Garcia reminded you, it took you a moment to realise but you where both in the same situation, and you nodded as the plan started coming together in your mind.

“Okay,” you stood up as Garcia opened her laptop, “when did you find out?” you asked, you needed to determine how long each of you knew the team was missing.

“I unlocked the batcave and I had the same file on my desk, when I saw the photos I ran up here and then to you,” you nodded as Garcia spoke.

“Okay, I want cameras of every place each of our team members have been, bars, apartments, anything and everything. See if there are any recurring cars or bikes or vans that drive past the streets, do facial recognition on anyone following them like with Reid and Morgan, see if it's happened to all of them.” you took a breath as you called in someone from the bullpen and handed them both the files you and Garcia had been given, “Get this to the lab for fingerprints, this is top priority; we have a team missing” you'd told them, they nodded slightly scared and confused before walking off as Garcia started talking.

“I've got the filters on and they're searching but it's going to take some time,” Garcia said sadly.

“Look up previous cases the BAU has had including the words ‘you were wrong’, ‘French Road’ and ‘East’, possibly other words like ‘it was wrong’, ‘they are/were wrong’ that type of thing, date it back to Rossi's days,” you ordered Garcia.

“(Y/n), a lot of those files are physical if you go back to Rossi,” the tech analyst reminded you.

“I know but still, set filters for that and go as far back as you're able, tell me if you get any hits, i'm going to go down to the file room and i'm going to go back as far as Rossi's days for the physical copies until he started going digital,” you told Garcia, she looked reluctant to let you go so you moved to where she was sitting and you gave her a large hug, “we’ll find them Pen, i promise” you mumbled into her cherry scented hair.

“What about Spencer?” she asked softly as the two of you let go of each other.

“He sent me a message saying ‘french road east’, that has to mean something,” you smiled, “i'm going to try and find that road through all of DC and if there's a hit i'm going to go there and see what's up with it, it might be where they were taken or a street Spencer noted as an important thing for us to know” Garcia nodded and quickly sat back down and started typing on her laptop as you left.

God only knows what your teammates are going through right now.

-----

“YOU SON OF A BITCH” Derek yelled as J.J. was dragged to the middle of the floor and repeatedly beaten.

“WHAT DO YOU WANT” Hotch yelled as J.J. started to whimper, the people stopped at Hotch's comment and left J.J. on the floor, Emily and Spencer scrambling with their hands bound to get to their teammate, making sure she was okay.

“What do we want? We want you guys on our side!” one of the people said, he was happy, how could this make anyone happy?

“FBI agents in our group? We’d rule the world!” another one exclaimed as the rest of the group laughed.

“It obviously took a lot of time and planning didn't it? To capture all of us” Hotch said cooly, though on the inside he was boiling.

“Six months,” someone said, it was a new voice that came from the entrance of...the sewers? Poor Spencer was probably having an attack with all these germs.

“Hey boss! We got ‘em” another one said, god there was too many to remember.

“I can see, you missed two though” the Boss said as he looked at the team, a few of his men dragged Emily, Spencer and J.J. back to the wall they all sat at, “genius's lover, and the black guy's girlfriend” the man noted as his men became eerily quiet.

“The blonde girl was with that skinny guy,” a man pointed to Spencer, “And that one,” he pointed to Derek, “but they kept going to crowded places and bumping into people that we couldn't get them, and the other...one”

“The sexy one?” the boss's voice rang out with a grin.

“YOU LEAVE (Y/N) OUT OF THIS YOU BAS-” Spencer yelled before one of the men kicked him in the stomach, causing him to cough harshly.

“Shut it druggie” the Boss said, the looks on the teams faces gave him all the pleasure, “oh yeah, we know all about you guys; how Hotchner lost his wife, Rossi has had 3 divorces, Morgan was sexually abused, Prentiss has had an abortion at 15 and J.J., sweet little J.J. had a miscarrige” snickers from the men could be heard as the team looked away, embarrassment? No, just confused as to how these people knew such intimate things about them.

“And that little lover of yours, genius?” another voice questioned, the voice came toward Spencer, gripped the poor boy's hair and ripped his head up to look up at him as a pained expression came over the doctor, “they’re in for it big!” he cackled, “gonna have a lot of fun with them when we get them later,” and with that he threw Spencer against the wall, Spencer groaned as a few of his teammates called his name but he didn't register it, only the pounding in his ears and the feeling of blood rushing down his head. And with that, the men and their boss left, the door to the sewer room shut and the click of a lock echoed around the room, the silence the team heard afterwards was loud, deafening.

------

“What’ve we got Garcia?” you asked the analyst as you walked back into the room, placing 3 files on the table in front of her.

“Okay, very few cases including those words you gave me, a lot of the cases were only one unsub or two and I highly doubt there were only two unsubs so I crossed them off and? I got nothing,” the girl sighed as she got rid of the tabs to continue working, “the facial recognition software and car registration is still going, i've got hits for all of our friends being in the places that they mentioned, all of them had unfortunately been walking at the time but they go from one camera to another and then suddenly they're gone,”

“So our unsubs are sophisticated, this definitely took time to plan and get the right things for,” you mumbled as you looked at the victim board Garcia had hastily made up on the clear plastic, each member of your team's faces were up there along with a few other colour pieces of paper for the unsubs, and that's it.

“I haven't gotten any hits on the cars either” Garcia mentioned softly, you nodded.

“Okay well, i've got three cases here that all mention those words from before. First one is a group of five unsubs from Rossis and Gideons days but a lot of them are in jail if not all of them, the second is a cult group from Missouri and the last one is a gang of over thirty people; and not all of those thirty people had been found, prosecuted, jailed, killed and etcetera you get it” you fanned out the files and opened each of them.

“Which one do we think it is?” Garcia asked, we had no leads of which one it really is, so you took a breath and read over the files.

“Okay well, the five unsubs are all in jail and only two have been let out of prison in the last six months and it wouldn't be them because they only have two people in their gang, they’re loyal so they wouldn't start a new group without the originals” you closed the file and pushed it away and moved onto the other one, “the cult is rather big but they’re based in Missouri and i don't think they’d travel all the way over here to kidnap agents. This isn't religious or anything and they are so, definitely not them” you closed the file and landed on the last one, “okay, this one,” you looked over the file as Garcia started typing away, “fifteen have gotten out of jail in the past 2 years, five where never found and the rest are still in jail” you looked to Garcia, “this could be it”

“AH HA!” Garcia exclaimed, “i have a hit on three of those people who are in the system and they are following our lovely friends” Garcia typed another second as multiple video cameras came up showing your friends walking (or stumbling depending on who it was) along with one of three people following behind them a few feet.

“It has to be them then,” you said, “i'll go back down and find the rest of the files, Garcia i want you to find every bit of land, buildings, warehouses and houses they have ever bought, i want to know what they ate for breakfast on the third of january last year, i want to know what plumbing system they used in 2016; i wante everything” you said, albeit forcefully, as you walked out of the room and towards the file room again as Anderson walked back into the conference room and handed Garcia a few papers.

“Thank you Anderson,” Garcia mumbled as he looked over the paper, and sure enough there was fingerprints that matched one of the people who followed your teammates, Garcia then pulled up the video surveillance of the BAU and the facial recognition was quick to find the man enter the room, place the folder down with glove-less hands before walking out, he had a visitors pass.

-------

The scraping of metal against the floor awoke each member of the team slowly as a few people walked into the room, placed food trays on the ground in front of each team member, uncuffed the team and then walked out. The team looked to each other as a voice floated through a P.A. system above them.

“It isn't poisoned, and if you don't eat it then that's up to you but you will starve,” and the system shut off with a harsh beep.

“Hotch?” Derek asked.

“Eat unless you want to die,” was all their unit chief said before he moved forward and started eating the sandwich he had. Emily followed suit and gave a throaty moan as she drank the water from the goblet on the tray, the others soon followed.

-------

“There's nothing,” Garcia said as you entered the room again, “they don't have any land or anything,”

“Well find something then,” you said harshly, Garcia jumped slightly at your harsh tone but started typing again as you pinned up photos of each of the members out of the prison, “have you done a deep search on each person that's out of prison and that wasn't found?” you asked Garcia.

“Yes! Yes, five of the fifteen have alibis from the night our friends got taken and i can't find the rest nor can i find those other five that were never found, they really are off the grid (Y/n)” Garcia said as her fingers flew fast against the keyboard, you looked at the clock on the other side of the room.

“Ten hours,” you muttered, “god only knows what they’re going through,” you rubbed your hand over your face and paced slightly, “we have 15 persons of interest and we can't find them, do the ones with alibis have addresses?”

“They all do, three have work and home and the other two dont work and are stay-at-home-dads, all of their names and addresses have been sent to your phone” Garcia told you as a ping from your phone sounded.

“Okay, i'm going to go and check out that place Spencer gave me before he got taken, i'm gonna grab a few other people to go to other addresses because it'll save time and then regroup back here,” you said as you pulled your phone to your ear and started calling a few people.

You parked the car and made your way to French Road which was, as Spencer did say, to the east of the FBI headquarters. It looked like any other little street, a few cafes and a few empty blocks, it wasn't in the city but it wasn't in the suburbs; it wasn't deserted but it wasn't crowded, you noted this. Spencer and Derek weren't taken from here because they were in the middle of the city at the time of abduction, so there has to be something here that Spencer saw to make you come here. You looked in every alleyway on both sides of the street, doing a shallow dig in the dumpsters, opening a few cafe doors and asking a few questions but ending up with nothing. You let out a huff as you looked up and down the street again, until you realised something.

This was a dead end street. The end was a large circle so cars could do a U-turn and go the opposite way, stationed at the end of the street is a path to some sort of forest/secluded jogging track, this had to be a lead, it has to be. The leaves and sticks crunched as you walked along the track, your gun positioned next to you in your hand, ready for action whenever needed, that's when your phone made a large shrill and scared you half to death.

“What is it Mike?” you asked into the receiver after realising it was the other team who was out asking questions.

“We have a lead for the group from one of the stay-at-home-dads; they’ve been planning this for awhile but haven't put effort into it except for the past six months. We couldn't get a name because the guy was too loyal and was convinced they’d come after him but he did tell us that they tried to get in contact with him to regroup, he obviously refused but they left him alone after that, one phone call and nothing else,” Mike said, you could hear the slam of a car door as he got into one of the SUVs with his partner.

“Okay, that's good Mike, get that to Garcia and see if she can try and trace that call and what tower it's pinged from,” and with that you hung up as you heard Mike say ‘got it’ before the line went dead. You looked as far down the path as you could from where you stood but didn't go any further, if this was a lead then you would need backup and probable cause as to why you're there.

“All five of those men checked out with the same story, they each got a call asking them to rejoin the team and they refused, the caller disconnected right after that but they haven't gotten any threats since then. Unfortunately i couldn't find a tower it was pinging from and the number was from five different burner phones too,” Garcia said as you looked over the victim board.

“Background searches with those ten we had earlier?” you asked, “found anything else?”

“Um one, he's only 26 and but its a loose thread,” the picture came onto the screen, the man looked like he could pass as 16, “James Micheal, 26, the only thing i could find was that his credit card has weird transactions over the past six months so it fits our timeline however, i can't find the account it's going to so it must be a bugged one or fake or something similar” Garcia said as she brought up the transactions.

“Found him on the streets?” you asked, Garcia grinned and brought up a video feed, and upon further inspection, plus audio, you now had a profile.

-------

“Right-o,” a voice said, the metal door screeched open causing the team to wince as he and 2 other men stepped in, “who wants to go first?” he questioned, the sickening grin could be heard through his speech as the sewer was way too dark to see 3 feet in front of them.

“Grab the kid, he had the addiction,” another voice muttered before the men moved forward.

“HEY FUCK OFF,” Spencer yelled as two of the men tried to pin him down, Derek started scrambling towards Spencer to help but after a nasty blow to the jaw he backed away with guilt.

“Get the needle,” one of them said, this caused Spencer to tense, fuckfuckfuckfuck, this can't be happening, no way are they gonna inject him again.

“Look nerd, it's your old friend!” the first man said as he shook a small clear bottle in the slim stream of light from the roof, and sure enough there was a label with the one word that caused Spencer's fight or flight to make its appearance, Dilaudid.

“NO, DON'T YOU D-” a punch to the jaw caused Spencer to splutter and breath heavily as his arm was grabbed roughly, tied and the needle entered into his skin and vein, he sobbed. The team heard Spencer whimper as he felt the liquid inject into his veins and bloodstream, the telltale shortness of breath was quick to take its mark along with the immediate drowsiness as the men walked out without saying another word.

“SPENCE” J.J. exclaimed as the man in question fell into a slumber and the team crowded around the twitching boy, it was just like last time.

“Protect him,” Hotch said, “don't let them take him in this state, fight, bite, kick, i dont give a single shit,” the team looked at Hotch and nodded as they all took a silent oath to protect their friend.

------

“Our unsubs are up to ten people, possibly fifteen or more if they have recruited new people,” you started the profile with Garcia standing next to you, “we have one person of interest as of right now, James Micheal, we have video evidence and audio evidence of him speaking to each member of the BAU team trying to proposition them, as you all know a few of our team members would have ignored him, and a few would have talked or said a simple no; those who didn't say anything he continued to walk next to and annoy until that team member said something,” you took a breath, “we have evidence of James stalking the BAU team for the past 4 months from their work, to their home, to where they go for dinner on a special night or the bar; this includes both myself and Garcia in this stalking pile, we have added extra security to our own homes.”

“James has been making up to five thousand dollar transactions to some bugged account for the past six months and another two thousand dollars to a seperate account 2 months prior to those first six months,” Garcia was now delivering the digital trail, “this means he has been with this team for at least eight months, possibly more, he is most likely new, shy and unsure of what he is doing. James is being used and he knows he is but he has no way out as our unsubs keep saying things like ‘ill kill your family’, ‘you're nothing without us’, stuff like that,” Garcia used her hands to talk as she also pointed to the victim board to the photo of James’ driver's license.

“This team on unsubs are highly dangerous and we must proceed with caution around and with them, they all have gotten out of jail in the past 2 years and they obviously have a vengeance plan, please remember this. We also have a lead to where this team of unsubs could possibly be hiding but until we have James we cannot infiltrate the area. There is a fake missing person report out for James so we can hopefully get him into questioning, thank you,” and with that the people around you filtered away back to where they were meant to be going. You turned to Garcia.

“Do you think that was enough? What if we don't get to them wh-”

“Garcia stop, we cant think like that, we are the best of the best even without the team, okay?” you held Garcia enough to ground her as she nodded and wiped her tears.

“SSA (L/n)?” a new voice asked, you looked to the glass doors and sure enough, James Micheal was waiting there.

“James,” you said as you walked towards him.

“I saw the flyers and I just have one proposition,” James said, his voice was deep and definitely didn't match his face.

“What is it?” you asked as you walked to the interrogation room and allowed James to sit down in front of you with your back to the mirror, Garcia and Anderson were already standing in the small room before the interrogation room.

“I want protection until those guys are back in prison, i don't want them anywhere near me and i don't want them to find me,” James said, his voice was ridden with anxiety, you nodded.

“We can do that James, it's alright,” you reassured the man in front of you, “can you tell us who is in this group? Where are they staying?” you asked, James nodded.

“There's ten in the group, they're off the beaten track down some street in the east-”

“French Road?” you questioned, James nodded.

“Yeah, yeah that one,” he agreed, that was everything you needed from the previous encounter, “they don't have a lot of security but they’re pretty sophisticated with what they have on hand. They know everything about all of that team though,” Jack mentioned, “Emily got an abortion and that Red dude?”

“Reid” you corrected.

“Reid, they know of his Dilaudid thing and Hotch and his wife - they know everything,” Jack was shaking now, “they-they said they were going to use that against the team, the addiction, the trauma all of that”

“They’re going to dose Reid?” you asked with your shaken voice, that wasn't a good thing. Jack nodded as he looked to the clock.

“Most likely have already,” he whispered, you looked to the clock, 12 hours since the disappearance. Fuck. You nodded.

“You’ll be taken by another agent to a safe house and let out when this team is apprehended,” was all you said before walking out of the room and letting the door shut behind you. Your throat tightened and you couldn't breath as you sunk to your knees, Garcia and Anderson rushing to you.

“Breath (Y/n), breath” Garcia reminded you, “breath with me my sweetness” she said, Garcia made more effort to show her breathing as you tried to copy her, a few minutes passed before you had finally calmed down, tears streaked your eyes as you bumbled your words.

“I-its French road, Spencer was onto something,” you mumbled softly, “th-they know everything, from Reid's addi-addiction to Emily, and Hotch's wife,” you took a deep breath, “I-I want S.W.A.T. stationed with me, w-we’re going to infiltrate that place with the hel-lp of Jack and his direction-ns, possibly a map,” you looked to Anderson who nodded and walked out while taking out his phone to call for S.W.A.T., “Garcia i dont want you there,” you said, looking at the girl, she nodded in understanding as you stood up and started walking towards the way of the S.W.A.T. team.

------

J.J, Derek, Emily, Hotch and Rossi all whimpered as each member got kicked, punched, pulled, twisted and everything in between, Spencer was only just coming to from the drugs.

“N-no, dont,” Spencer whimpered, he was weak and could barely open his eyes but soon slipped back into a slumber.

“Y-you won't get away with this,” Emily whispered as one of the men gripped her jaw, her voice hoarse and scratchy.

“Oh darling, we will,” the man grinned as he threw the girl to the floor as the others piled the team on top of the others, all groaning and silently crying.

In retrospect, (Y/n) was rather glad that all members of the team were in the room when the door was busted open.

“FBI, PUT YOUR HANDS UP,” you yelled, the words echoing around the room, the men snickered as S.W.A.T. trained their guns on the men.

“It’s alright boys,” the boss said, your eyes trained towards the voice.

“Let. My team. Go,” you said calmly, gun now cocked, the man laughed.

“Go on boys,” the men moved out of the room but the boss stayed standing.

“Grab the team,” you said to S.W.A.T. behind you, the men walked in slowly and trusted you with your trained gun as they started carrying or walking out your team members, one having to cradle Spencer bridal style, “ambulance,” you said into the mic on your vest, “we need an ambulance for a poentional OD, Dilaudid was used, possibly a cocktail of other drugs but its unknown. Dont use other narcotics and if i find out you do i will be going to jail due to murder of doctors and nurses,” the sirens wailed in the distance.

“You’ve got tendencies too,” the boss said in front of you, “murder, killing, everything” you scoffed.

“Everyone does, its whether we have the empathy and understanding of ‘that's wrong’, which is why we don't do it unlike you people,” you seethed through your teeth, “hands up, you are under arrest for the kidnapping and torture of six FBI agents,” the man stayed silent for a moment.

“(Y/n) (L/n),” the man said, “pathetically in love with Agent Spencer Re-”

“It’s Doctor,” a voice said behind you, the cock of a gun could be heard before the tell-tale sound of a bullet being fired next to you, your natural reflexes made you dive to the right (as the bullet came from the left) as the boss was hit in the forehead and fell to the floor. You looked to the gun carrier.

Spencer Reid.

Gun held out straight, no tremble and a stern look.

Spencer looked to you and tears immediately spilled from his eyes as you stayed stone against the floor, “i see you got my message,” Spencer said softly with a smile before he collapsed to the floor in a heap of limbs, the gun clattering to the floor as paramedics rush to Spencers aid.

It seemed to go in slow motion, everything whizzed past you as other paramedics helped you to your feet, your eyes glassy and vision blurred as you got brought to the back of an ambulance. Around you each member of your team was being attended to, brought to a stretcher and taken in another ambulance, eight ambulance’s in total.

It was okay, you got all of the men, all of your team was safe.

Except.

“HES FLATLINING”

“We need to get him to the hospital NOW!”

“HE'S GOING TO O.D.”

#criminal minds #spencer reid #derek morgan #jj #penelopie garcia #aaron hotchner #hotch #hotchner #david rossi #emily prentiss #spencer reid x reader #reid x reader #spencer x reader #criminal minds x reader

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dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice · 4 years

Note

You could do it with: IDW: Megatron, Ultra Magnus, Max, Rung and Bayverse Optimus?Thanks! You have a good day! :D (2/2)

HI I’M BACK FROM THE DEAD. MY GHOST LITERALLY WROTE THIS. I know it’s extremely late but my writers block has been hitting me during the pandemic while I’m stuck at home so hopefully I did this ok.

@bellisimapormesana

Character wasn’t stated so I’m defaulting to a cybertronian! Reader.

IDW Megatron

He feels you.

Seriously, this poor mech is as pessimistic as you’ll ever get.

Don’t make me bring in the depresso espresso memes.

It took you a while to warm up to those who were pesistant in becoming your friend (I’m looking at you rodimus), so getting anywhere with him is going to take forever.

If your not at Swerve’s cracking jokes and getting into crazy shinanegans while Ultra Magnus just sits there with his helm in his servos, you’re either alone in your berth room or wandering the many halls of the Lost Light.

Normally Megs is too deep in thought to pay attention to notice most walking by, but his optics will set on you when he almost walks into your frame sat on the floor. But you’re too busy observing the stars outside one the windows to acknowledge him.

You would expect him to take a least a few times of running into you to actually realise that your processor was currently far away from being a happy place, but like I said, this guy’s been through shit.

One single look at you. And he knows.

The way your optics are dimmed already give off the tell tale sign that your mind is wandering places. Like, there’s a whole universe right in front of you, galaxies and technicolour planets passing by, you should be dreaming of the adventures you will have, yet you sit here, frame slouched, with a solemn empty look across your face.

Everything seems to stop still for Megatron as he stands there. Memories and nightmares flashing across his processor, bringing back glimpses of emotions that he wished to never feel again.

Everything about you screams loneliness, and he feels his spark shatter at the sight of you.

There is no way on Cybertron that he will let you experience the depression he did.

He won’t force any means of physical comfort upon you, since you could just push him away so easily if you wanted to.

All you hear are a shuffle of pedesteps and a gentle thump as he sits himself beside you, glancing at you once without uttering a word.

Through that single glance, he showed you that he understood, and reassured you that you’re not anywhere near alone in this universe. And he had your back.

Ultra Magnus

When you first boarded the Lost Light, you had blended in amongst the crowd and didn’t really speak up much.

Therefore it took Magnus quite a while to find out who you were.

The poor mech didn’t really have much time to make many friends, since he was too busy either speaking about statistics, or chasing Rodimus throughout the ship to try and prevent any disasters from taking place.

The first time he really noticed you is when you actually started to hang out with Roddy and the rest of the main crew.

He would see you dissappear around corners as you tried to avoid ending up in trouble with your fellow pranksters, or sitting at the bar as Swerve proceeded to die of hysterics at the joke you cracked.

He also saw you exit Rung’s a couple of times as he went in.

The first time he exchanged a conversation with you was at the bar with everyone else.

You were sat between Rung and him as you fiddled with your servos. He noticed that you were quieter than usual as you stared at the half empty energon in front of you.

He hadn’t had the slightest clue of what to say to you as you sat there. He was just downright confused as to why you weren’t being as loud as the others.

Suddenly a thought came to his mind as he recalled something.

While you were well known for being slightly disobedient when you joined Rodimus on his adventures, he was mildly surprised at how well your reports were laid out. You may be a funny prankster but your reports came on the dot, full of the right amount of detail that Magnus would be satisfied with.

So while it may had not been a great way to greet someone, he brought you out of your silent state by praising you on how well your reports were.

You looked up at him, slightly taken aback at the sudden gesture, but you returned it with a small smile and a quiet “thank you”.

He didn’t know straight away of you pessimistic states and episodes, but it didn’t take him a while to realise it either.

He would notice there would be times you would seclude yourself to a quiet space, and he would notice your seat to be empty at meetings every one in a while.

He’s a busy mech, so he can’t always pay attention to you, but in his free time, or when he is walking the halls, he would see if you were on your own or not.

He’d find you at a window or an empty room, and gently ask if you would like to accompany him in going over statistics or organising some files.

“Isn’t Roddy meant to assist you in that?” “Yes but he never does it properly and disappears within five minutes.”

Some things he offers to do with you may be boring, but it’s enough to keep you distracted and on the plus side you get to spend time with your favourite Magnus.

Fortress Maximus

He’s the type of mech to observe people, especially you, from a distance.

While others seem boring or just make him nervous, you’re the one who seems to catch his optic the most.

Because you confuse him.

One minute you’re laughing tears of lubricant out of you optics with Drift as Ratchet storms in, covered helm to pede in pink glitter glue, then the next you’re sat in the dark confines of your berthroom, the only light provided is a dull blue hue from the data pad you’re reading off, eyes absentmindedly scanning across, but never actually taking the words in.

It takes him a small amount of time to properly realise how deep of a state of pessimism you were in when you were experiencing these episodes from time to time, and somewhat understood how you felt, since this poor mech is one sensitive bby once you delve down deep enough.

The next few days are spent with Max confining himself to his own berthroom, making some begin to wonder where he had disappeared off to. Some thought he was just distancing himself (like me because of shitty corONA). But instead his was carefully thinking out some form of plan to try and eventually manage to keep you as your happy self 24/7.

He - somehow - convinced Red Alert to allow him access to a weeks worth of some security clips and gathered a basic routine of when the pessimistic mood would begin to set in by the way your body language started to shift slightly and slowly but surely, you drifted away from the crowd and eventually found yourself in the confines of your berth.

He’s not a stalker I swear.

He sensed your shy nature, and being a somewhat shy bean himself it took him a few minutes of mental preparation, but he managed to stop being a wallflower at Swerve’s when he spotted you come in.

You avoided the eyes of most as you were just there to grab some energon and whisk away back to the earth story you were reading in your berthroom. You eased your way through the small crowd, cringing at some of the loud laughs that reached your audios.

Reaching a clearing in front of the bar, you were about to open your intake to ask for a drink, when you felt a large presence loom behind you.

Turning around cautiously, you were met with a white and blue chest plate.

Your attention was taken away from the loud noises as your audios picked up a quiet “hello” as you looked up to meet a pair of nervous red optics.

Max knew he was big, even for a cybertronian, so he was concerned that his large presence gave off an intimidating demeanour, and it would scare you away.

However, much to his surprise and luck, you gave him a small smile and gave a quiet greeting in return.

You two spent the next few hours in a secluded booth in the corner of the bar exchanging mutual conversation while sipping on different concoctions of Swerve’s drinks.

You were enjoying the new company, basking in the presence of a fellow awkward cybertronian you could relate to. You found it cute as you found him staring at you, only too look away while staring down at the drink in his hands.

On the other hand, Fort Max was internally proud of himself managing to keep you from the depressing depths of your berth and also of you not avoiding any form of social contact for the night.

This carried on for a few months or so. Max kept up the effort to watch over you, becoming alert if you would suddenly leave in the evening or if there was nothing on. He would take another route, and catch your attention before you reached your room, gently asking you to join him on some sort of activity. Whether it was crafting something Rung recommended, or going star gazing.

In some way he would coax you out and put a smile on your face.

IDW Rung

You think you can get away from the observing eyes of god Rung the therapist?

After one appointment with you he could see that you weren’t as happy as you presented yourself to be.

There’s nothing much to say for this guy except for the fact that you keep going to these sessions with him.

You may not want to tell him everything but he tries his best to try and show that he understands you.

Instead of these meets going the same as most others, Rung will have you stay for longer and make it more interactive with things such as making crafts such as model ships, and also will tell you a story about each one.

Hell, he would sometimes book appointments for you, mostly in the evening when you weren’t busy.

You enjoy the company, but it also means poor Rung actually has a friend that talks to him more and frequently visit him.

You’ve never gotten his name wrong once.

And that puts a little smile on his face each time.

If he finds you in one of these states, he won’t say much at first. Just gently holding your servo as you both sit by a window until he quietly begins to tell you a story to get your mind off any negative thoughts.

Bayverse Optimus (aNgRy MaN)

Bruh

He feels you too

He’s lost too many friends he considers family

Has been known to go into pessimistic states himself

But doesn’t know if anyone else experiences these things like he does

When he watches you around base he sees you having lots of fun with the younger bots, pranking Ratchet or practising you abilities in the field with Ironhide.

In his attempt to make sure that no one really finds out or suffers when he’s in this depressive mood, he tends to worry about it in the dead of night when nobody is around.

Or so he thought.

He has takes up the opportunity to walk around base during the late hours, sometimes to sit and take in his surroundings while trying his best to push any bad thoughts to the back of his mind whilst he stargazes.

Only to find that looking at the stars reminds him how far away he is from home, since when he looks up, none of the flickering dots are familiar, and another wave of sorrow hits him.

This would happen almost every nights, unless he needed to rest up for a mission.

One night he was doing the same, recalling both good and bad memories, when his audios picked up a quiet screech, like metal on metal, from behind somewhere.

While it may have just been the wind, Optimus knew he needed to be alert for any surprise attacks from the Decepticons, so he got up as quietly as he could and spent the next couple of minutes attempting to locate the source of the noise.

Another very similar noise had led him up to the roof, but at their point he still didn’t know if this was a threat or not, so he cautiously lifted his helm over, a servo hovering over his blaster.

What he didn’t expect was to spot your silhouette in the moonlight, sat on the edge, staring into space, a solemn look on your face.

He was taken aback slightly at this sudden sight of you, since you were normally so bubbly, and had managed to bring out a low chuckle in him every once in a while.

Relaxed that it wasn’t Ravage skulking around, he was still concerned about you.

He would sit next to you and spend the next hour or so speaking quietly with you, finding out and understanding why you seemed so down.

While he wouldn’t mind staying out here with you for the remainder of the night, you both knew Ratchet would scold you both for not recharging properly, so he took you down silently to your berth, and stayed by your side until you were in deep slumber, then return to his own berth.

This happened almost every night, just the both of you basking in each other’s presence and company, and pointing out Earth constellations into the early hours of the morning.

Enjoy :)

Oppy out.

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thisnoodlewritesao3 · 3 years

Note

Okay so I’ve read like all your stories and I just wanted to say that you write so well. You’re so unique from all the writers on here (not that there’s anything bad with them!) and I love the perspectives you take!!

If you’re taking requests, which it’s totally okay if you’re not, could I request something for Yamaguchi? Where reader has like tried to ask him out but keeps chickening out and Yamaguchi just thinks he scares her for some reason? 🤣 tyyyyy

First of all, you are amazing and I’m so glad that you liked all my stories! They all take so much time and effort that it’s nice to hear these words from you, you kind anon. Second of all, this request literally kicked my motivation into hyperdrive, so everyone, please thank this anon because I don’t think I’d have been able to do anything worthwhile if it wasn’t for this!

If you have any more requests, I would be so happy to take them!!!

Onto the story hehe

----

Has a letter ever weighed so much in your hands? You didn’t think so. But no other letter had ever meant so much before. This had meaning, it had a reason, an entire purpose that was setting off your anxiety tenfold.

Shouldn’t it have been easy to do this? Just put the letter on his desk, walk away, and wait. Three simple steps that had been evading for the entire week. You managed to get one step closer to his desk every single day, but something always pulled you back. Maybe it was the time that he saw you walking closer and you basically ran away from him.

There were insecurities and worries, dreams and anxieties. Was he even aware of the effect he had on people? For some reason, you doubted it. But it was his kind smile, his serious undertones that people overlooked, his own worries and own fears that made you want to support him.

Oh, if only Yamaguchi Tadashi knew how you felt. Things would be so much easier.

Instead, you looked back over at his desk again, taking note of its emptiness and letting some worry wash away. Because you could put it down and he would never know it was you until he read it. He didn’t need to respond, you didn’t need an answer - the only thing you wanted him to know, was that people liked him for him, not just for Tsukishima Kei.

Today is the day, you tell yourself, though you aren’t so sure. Each step closer made you shake. He’d probably think you were lame - though you doubted it, he didn’t seem the type - but you had to try, right? How would you ever get anywhere in life if you didn’t at least try? You wouldn’t! You’d be stuck in the same place, no hope to escape.

One more step.

One last move.

That’s all you needed to do.

Your grip tightened on the letter and you cursed yourself for crinkling the edges. Heart beating so hard in your chest that it hurts - can everyone hear it as loudly as you? Your arms tensed when you thought about putting it down, and then the worst thing happened:

“Y/N, do you need something?” His voice was so warm that you might melt (and it was directed at you). All words seemed to disappear from your head and you froze. What was he going to say? You couldn’t do it now, not with him standing behind you, watching you.

Maybe if you just pretended not to hear him…

No such luck, he tapped on your shoulder and you just jumped and turned around quickly, almost tumbling directly into him in the process. You manage to catch yourself and he looks worried, “are you okay?” Genuine worry. Oh God.

You look down at the letter and he follows your gaze. Before he can question it, you shove it into your back, smiling too widely to be normal as you fumble through words. “Y-Yep! Just fine- um… j-j-just… um- standing!” You avoided his gaze like the plague, if you met his eyes, God knows what would happen.

Instead, you try and walk past him.

That doesn’t work. Because of course it doesn’t.

You end up tripping over your feet, bringing him down to the ground with you - if the ground could open up and swallow you whole, that would be nice.

You look down at him, both of you groaning from various degrees of pain. His eyes are squeezed shut and you know you have to say something, anything, to show him that you care about the fact you’d just basically pushed him onto the ground. You’re busy trying to decide between are you okay? and I’m sorry! when your mouth decides for you. “Are you sorry?” You ask him too loudly, capturing the attention of everyone in the class.

You bury your head in your hands. That’s it, after today, you’re moving to the mountains to raise goats. Surely nothing can embarrass you up there.

Forcing yourself to stand, you practically run out of the room, stuttering a pathetic apology so you can seek refuge in your friends. They’d only laugh at you, but at least someone could, because that’s what you needed. Someone to laugh and tell you just how ridiculous you’d been.

The bell called out far too quickly - you really weren’t ready to go back to class, but you didn’t have a choice - especially not when your body decided to move for you. Seriously, your body needs to stop making these decisions today, it keeps getting you in trouble.

Of course he’s already sat in his seat, you feel his eyes on you. You can only ignore them and sink into your seat, resting your head on the table.

There was no way he’d ever like you now- no, there was no way he’d ever liked you to begin with. You’d only spoke to him a handful of times (and only a few of them had been normal conversations). You wanted him to know that you weren’t a complete mess all the time. That you could have conversations, and be normal, and not stutter through every single word. That you knew how to speak, and that you liked him. So much that it hurt. That he’d been the reason you’d watched volleyball, in the hopes it would give you something to talk about. You wanted him to know that you wouldn’t always be held back by a letter, that one day you’d be confident enough to stand by his side without almost crying.

There were too many things you wanted to tell him, show him. How would you ever be able to find the actual words to say it? You doubted you’d ever be able to. So maybe you’d just have to be content watching him from the sidelines, cheering him on during games whenever he came up to serve - because you’d always cheered the loudest for him. Only him.

You couldn’t wait to get home and curl up under the blankets with a tub of ice cream, eat your troubles away (you know, like a responsible person). But those volleyball boys had a different plan for you.

You’d barely started packing away your things - you were shaking so much it was a near impossible task - when someone stood next to your desk, basically blocking your escape. You looked up and locked eyes with Tsukishima Kei. Anxiety hit you again, but Yamaguchi wasn’t in sight, so you calmed down. “Can you come with me?” He asked, though it sounded more demanding.

Quickly agreeing, you finished packing up your bag and followed him. Only God knows how you can be so confident around him. You won’t question it, not yet. Not until you’re in the comfort of your room, fretting over the day's events.

He led you to some place close to the gym, not giving you a second to question it before he pulled a letter from his pocket. No. Not just a letter.

You recognised it, the pastel purple envelope, the little yellow heart sticker holding it closed was pressed in the corner. You wanted to sink. To fall down and cry. To scream and shout and run away from this. But you couldn’t. So you chose to smile up at him. “What’s that?” You said innocently, hoping you could play it off as some mistake. Because if he’d read it, then that meant he knew you liked Yamaguchi, which meant Yamaguchi probably knew you liked Yamaguchi, and you don’t know if you could deal with that revelation right now.

He gave you a look and you knew he didn’t believe your act for a second. Instead of bringing that up, he handed it back to you, “come on, Y/N, everyone knows you like him by now.” He said nonchalantly, his hands resting by his sides. Everyone? Your eyes opened wide with shock, so he elaborated, “everyone but him.” That notion didn’t exactly calm you, but you let out a relieved sigh.

“Was it that obvious?” You asked, rubbing the back of your neck. There wasn’t any point in trying to hide it from him, he already know.

Tsukishima nodded and you could only laugh weakly.

“I thought I was being really casual about it.” That was a lie, but you had to play it off. Maybe he wouldn’t realise your lie.

“You can’t even speak around him and you think that’s casual?” His tone was mocking - he did have a point - but that didn’t mean you had to like it. “What do you even like about him? You don’t know him.” You flinched back and brought both your hands close to your chest, a little worried by his sudden change in tone. “Or are you just using him like every other girl is? Because if you just like me the-”

“Fuck no!” You cried out. Now it was his turn to be shocked, especially when you glared up at him. “Look, you’re a great guy. But you aren’t Yamaguchi.” Okay, so what do you say next? “I- I don’t know when I started liking him, but I know it hit me full force when I realised it.” That much was obvious. “He makes me so happy and excited that I feel ridiculous, and then I can’t even speak.” Yes, we know. “He’s just so amazing! And funny. And cute. Like, I swear, I could probably just look at him all day. He's really pretty.” And now it’s creepy, calm down, Y/N. “And it sucks! That girls do that to him, but I’m not like them. If they want to talk to you, they should just be confident and do it, not use him for that, it isn’t fair!” He smirked down at you - little does he know, you see the irony in that statement. “I like him. I like Yamaguchi Tadashi. Is that what you wanted to hear?” It felt so nice to finally be able to say it. Like it was a step closer to actually being able to tell him.

Your heart was pounding, but not from nerves, it was from the passion. Because this meant so much to you. Maybe one day you could tell him to your face.

“I mean,” Tsukishima shrugged and looked off to the side, “I don’t really care about all that, especially since I’m not the person you should be telling.” You followed his gaze and locked eyes with the green haired boy. Had he heard that? What were you kidding, of course he’d heard that, but it really is now or never.

Yamaguchi stepped closer and head spread throughout your body. For a moment, it felt like it was only you and him, like the rest of the world was gone. He never broke your gaze, that uncharacteristic confidence was doing wonders - or maybe it was the adrenaline.

Sucking in a deep breath, you turned to face him. “I-” you froze, everything suddenly felt too much. But you have to do this. You can’t turn back now, not when he’s looking at you like he might just break if he doesn’t hear it again. “I like you.” You shoved the letter towards him, knowing he’s read it, but words on a page mean nothing against the words from your mouth. “And not just as friends, I like you the way a girl likes a boy.”

The weight from your shoulders disappears as he smiles softly. “Oh thank God, I thought you were scared of me.”

“Why?” You asked, twiddling your fingers together to calm your nerves.

“Because you couldn’t look or speak to me, and you kept running away.” He laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his neck. Of course he’d thought that, it was obvious now. So the whole world could really see how madly you’d fallen for the pinch server - the whole world, except for him.

It takes some time - because everything takes you time - but you’re eventually able to function almost completely normally around him. You rarely get nervous, but the day he figured out how to get you flustered had been your own personal downfall; he’d laugh and say he loved it; you’d laugh and say you’d get revenge. The only time you managed to get that revenge had been at your wedding, when you used the letter to him as your vow.

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