#And my brain looks like putting the two hands together and clapping | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

babybeeelle · 3 months ago

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Hiii, long time no see. I was writing a different story, but I wasn't satisfied in the direction it was going so this just spouted from my brain. This was based off a request, but I'm dramatic so I amplified it :)

Summary - When Agatha's grief causes her to lash out at the reader, she hurts them deeply.

Warnings - Agatha needs therapy, mention of self-harm scars, near-death experiences, and detailed? suicide attempt.

Word count : 4400+

a/n - Very important Warnings. The is a very detailed fic. Please please please read them and make a safe decision to continue reading💖

What's Said and Done

You didn't intend for your reminiscing of Nicky to trigger Agatha the way it did. You had hoped that maybe the decades upon decades spent grieving together created a safe space to talk about the short, but treasured time you all had with Nicky. You craved to fill the hole his death left with the precious memories that had filled your heart with joy. You wanted that for Agatha. You wanted to mend the corrupted memory of him. He deserved to be cherished.

It was obvious now Agatha couldn't. You knew that unadulterated grief that was entangled into her loving soul very well. You thought her forgiving Rio, inviting her back into her heart after two centuries, meant that she was in a stage of grief where she would want to talk about him.

You had so many memories of Nicky etched into your heart, moments that glowed like a lighthouse in the violent weather of grief.

The day he first came into your lives, his tiny hands were gripping tightly to your fingers as Agatha held him, and his wide, curious eyes darted around the unfamiliar space in the bedroom of the little cottage you shared.

Rio had been cautious at first. Viewing his birth from the door frame, knowing she was going to be the one who would lead him to the afterlife before he could truly live.

Yes, she created him, but she also knew the possible complications of creating a precious life unnaturally. But when Agatha looked at her, tears brimming in her eyes as she nodded her head, she could see Agatha was thankful for giving her the time he deserved. To Rio, the pain would be worth it.

Anyone could tell Nicholas was made from Rio. The resemblance was uncanny as he grew older. His facial structure mirrored hers perfectly, from his sharp jawline to the delicate angles of his cheekbones. His eyes a warm chocolate, filled with mischief, were identical to hers. Even down to the smile lines that shined so brightly with his perfect smile. He truly was a mirror image.

There were the little everyday moments that had became everything.

Rio kneeling in the backyard, dirt smudged on her cheek as she pressed her hands to the soil, coaxing life from the earth. Nicky crouched beside her, his tiny fingers buried in the dirt, eyes wide with awe as delicate petals bloomed before him. Every time a new bloom appeared, he’d clap his hands and turn to Agatha with Rio's smile.

Then there were the nights Agatha loved most. She would sit on the edge of his bed, her hands glowing with a soft purple light as galaxies lit across his bedroom ceiling. Stars twinkled, planets drifted in slow, mesmerizing orbits, casting his room in a cosmic glow. Nicky’s small hands would reach up, tracing constellations only he could see, his laughter light and full of wonder.

It was all the things Agatha didn't want to remember.

Her shoulders stiffened while she was putting away laundry. “Why?” Agatha asked finally, her voice low and clipped.

You frowned, caught off guard by her tone. Feeling the sudden change in energy, you began to rub your scarred arm, a self-soothing habit you picked up when you began to feel on edge. “Why what?”

“Why do you have to bring him up?” she said, halting the chores. She turned to face you as you stood beside her. Her eyes were trained on yours, unwilling to break eye contact. “Do you think that helps? Reliving every little memory like it’s going to bring him back?”

The words stung, but you took a deep breath, willing yourself to stay calm. “I don’t bring him up to hurt you, Agatha. I just... I miss him. I thought maybe we could talk about the good times, try to focus on—”

“On what?” Agatha snapped, her voice rising. “On how he was never ours to keep him? How we couldn't heal him? On how everything we tried wasn’t enough?” She slammed her hand on the dresser in agitation causing you to jump, eyes-widened as your breath was caught in your throat from surprise. “Because that’s all I see when I think of him.”

Your heart clenched as you watched her unravel, the grief in her voice morphing into anger. “It wasn’t your fault, Agatha,” you said quietly reaching out for her hand. “It wasn’t anyone’s fault.”

She laughed bitterly, shaking her head as she avoided your touch, crossing her arms defensively. “Of course you’d say that. You always have to be the understanding one, don’t you? Always so composed, so...forgiving”

Her words hit like a slap, but she was being unfair. “You’re not the only one who lost him, Agatha. I lost him too. And Rio—”

“Don’t,” Agatha interrupted, her voice cutting through the room. “Don’t you dare bring her into this.”

The tension between you thickened as your shared grief and unresolved pain collided.

“Why not?” you challenged, ready to defend. “She loved him too. We all did. And maybe it’s hard for you to see, but she’s been trying, Agatha. She’s been trying to make things right with you.”

Agatha's lips curling into a bitter smile. “Trying?” she repeated mockingly. “Trying to what? Pretend like everything’s fine? Pretend like she didn’t—”

“Like she didn’t what?” you demanded as you cut her off, beginning to believe she had never truly forgiven Rio. “Say it, Agatha. Whatever it is you’ve been holding in, just say it.”

Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, her body trembling with fury. “Like she didn't take him from us. He’s gone, and all you can do is sit there and talk about him like that’s going to fix anything.”

You stared at her, a silent conformation of your theory. "It wasn't her fault and you know it. He was our boy too," you whispered in defeat. You weren't sure if she had even heard you. But her response showed you she did.

"It wasn't her fault?"

But before you could respond, she delivered the blow that shattered your soul.

“He was never your son,” she said, her voice sharp as she looked at you like you were nothing to her. “Not you. Not Rio's. He was my son. I'm the only one that did anything and everything to keep him alive, and here you are defending Rio like you always do,” she spat out with a sneering expression.

The words hit you hard. You felt physically sick. Your breathing was shallow like Agatha's words were constricting your lungs.

“No,” You protested, your voice breaking. Your eyebrows scrunched as your eyes shone with tears, searching Agatha’s face, desperate for any sign that the woman you loved hadn’t truly meant those words. “You don’t mean that."

Agatha’s expression hardened leveling down to look you straight in the eyes. “I mean it from the bottom of my heart,” she seethed, annunciating every word. “God, I can’t even look at you. It's pathetic. You have no right to be crying right now.” Pushing past you, she walked to the door like your very presence disgusted her.

You staggered back a step, clutching the edge of the dresser to steady yourself. Your tears fell freely now.

“Where are you going?” You asked, your voice thick from crying, inadvertently pleading for her to stay.

“Anywhere but here,” Agatha bit without looking back.

With that, she stormed out, her footsteps echoing down the stairs. The back door slammed shut moments later, leaving the house in a suffocating silence.

Letting the dam crumble, you clasped your chest, trying to ease the ache that felt like it was tearing you apart from the inside.

Your legs seemed to move on their own, carrying you to the bathroom in a haze.

As you stood in front of the bathroom mirror, the reflection staring back at you felt foreign, like someone you barely recognized. You searched your own face for something, anything, that might explain why you weren’t enough. Why Agatha couldn’t bear to look at you.

"How could anyone love you?" that dark, familiar voice in the back of your mind whispered. It had been gone for a while, held back from the unconditional love of the two women you'd do anything for, but it has returned making its mission to demolish all the progress you've made.

You gripped the edge of the sink so tightly that your knuckles were turning white. Agatha's words echoed endlessly.

"He was never your son." "Not you. Not Rio. He was mine."

The venom in her voice, the disgust in her eyes—how could she say something like that? How could she not see how much you loved him, how you would've given everything if it meant saving him?

You couldn't wrap your head around it. She couldn't actually think that of you, right?

The intrusive thoughts came in waves, each one dragging you deeper into despair.

"She doesn’t want you anymore. She'd be better off without you. Rio too." You squeezed your eyes shut, as though it could stop the endless spiral.

The thought of Rio did it for you. Rio’s face flickered into your mind. Her eyes, usually filled with warmth, was devoid of any love for you. She's death, literally. She is a cosmic being, and you are so...ordinary. You didn't have a sharp, captivating aura like Agatha who demanded anyone and everyone's attention the second she walks into a room.

Your love wasn't worth all the pain. You weren't worth all the pain. You're a burden to them.

The weight of those thoughts pressed down on your chest, making it hard to breathe. You needed both of them. There was already a piece of your heart missing, but Agatha and Rio kept your heart from crumbling. You wouldn't survive that pain again.

You glanced down at the sink, where droplets of water leaked from the faucet. For a moment, you began to visualize your arm as the faucet, slowly leaking blood.

Your gaze shifted back to the mirror. The self-hatred hit you like a tidal wave. How could they love you? Agatha’s words weren’t just anger—they were confirmation of your deepest and darkest fears. They didn't need you the way you needed them.

The familiar ache in your chest morphed into a dangerous mission. You opened the drawer beneath the sink, your trembling hands rummaging through its contents until they found what they were looking for. You hesitated for a moment, pausing as you were unsure if this is what you wanted. You had been so good, so happy. Then you remembered what your reality had shifted to.

It was a little purple jewelry box. It once held the ring on your finger from a day you'd never forget. A vow of a love that would be everlasting. But as you opened the box and found the blade hidden within, none of that mattered anymore.

Freeing it from the packaging, you noticed it still had the same sharpness from the last time you used it, and the glint made your stomach twist in anticipation.

The blade felt cool and familiar in your hand as you slowly sank into the cold, empty tub, the icy surface sending a chill down your spine. You hesitated again, gripping it tightly, the thoughts racing through your mind almost convincing you to stop. But one reason kept you going: you were doing this for them. This way, you could take the burden of yourself off their shoulders. You were doing them a favor.

With a shaky exhale, you glided the blade lightly across the center of your arm, testing the waters. The first cut was a shallow line that only allowed little bubbles of blood to come to the surface, but the sting grounded you nonetheless.

With more urgency, you pressed down harder, carving another line into your skin. Blood welled up, slowly making its way down your arm like raindrops rolling down a window.

Taking a deep breath in, you moved the blade down to your wrist where you knew the blood would really flow. As you exhaled, face scrunched, you swiped quick and deep, finally getting to the point where you knew you did damage.

But it wasn’t enough. You craved balance, symmetry. You mirrored the cuts on your other arm, your movements growing more frantic, wanting your relief to come faster. The tears flowed in rhythm with your blood, causing a hysterical laugh to escape from your throat.

Your vision swam as exhaustion began to set in, your body growing heavy. The pain that had once felt grounding now dulled, your consciousness blurred. It never really dawned on you who would be coming soon.

On cue, a familiar presence filled the room. The usual warmth was now an unwelcoming cold. Her usually composed demeanor was gone, replaced by wide-eyed panic as she took in the scene before her.

“No, no, no, no,” Rio panicked, her voice raw and breaking as she kneeled beside the tub. Her hands were trembling as they hovered over your wounds.

“You can’t do this to me. I won't do it. I refuse to take you,” she cried out in anguish as tears streamed down her face, denying her duty as Death, defying the natural order.

Her hands glowed a faint green as she pressed her palms to your arms. A tingling warmth spread through the cuts, knitting the torn flesh back together. She murmured soft reassurances under her breath, though they were more for herself than they were for you. Her power wasn’t meant for this, for preventing death, but she gave freely to herself, pouring every ounce of her strength into pulling you back from the edge. The strain showed in her creased forehead, but she fought against it because her heart depended on it.

When the bleeding finally stopped, Rio sagged back on her heels, her hands trembling as the adrenaline drained from her body. Her breath came in uneven gasps, her pulse pounding in her ears. She stared at you, her vision blurring with a mixture of relief and pain.

Carefully, as though you might shatter at the slightest touch, she reached out and gathered you into her arms. Your body was limp against her, your head lolling weakly onto her shoulder. She could feel the shallow rise and fall of your chest—too faint, too fragile—but you were breathing. That was enough.

She pressed a trembling kiss against your temple, her lips barely grazing your skin as she carried you from the bathroom. Each step was slow, deliberate, as though she feared moving too quickly would send you slipping away from her again.

By the time she laid you down on the bed, the world around you was a hazy blur, shifting in and out of focus. The weight beneath you felt unfamiliar—softer than the cold tub, warmer than the tile floor. A distant pressure tugged at your limbs, grounding you, but your thoughts drifted in a fog. Sounds came muffled, like you were underwater.

Rio’s voice, low and strained, broke through the haze. You couldn't make out the words, only the shape of them, the warmth in them. Then she was gone, footsteps fading, leaving you adrift in the silence.

A moment later, something soft slipped over your head. The scent of lavender and something faintly smoky curled into your nose, stirring something deep in your chest. A trembling breath left your lips, the familiarity of it pulling you in, dragging you closer to the surface of awareness.

Your lip quivered. A whimper—barely more than a breath—escaped instinctively. The sweater clung to your skin, warm and safe, and for the first time since your body hit the tile, the numbness began to melt.

“What is it?” Rio asked urgently, cupping your face with her hands, searching your face for any signs of pain or discomfort. “What’s wrong?”

Tears welled in your eyes, spilling over as you whispered, still dazed, “She doesn’t want us anymore.”

Rio froze, her heart dropping at the words and the hopelessness in your voice.

She cupped your face, shushing you as her thumbs brushed away the tears that continued to fall while she forced herself to stay steady her voice, to stay calm. “That’s not true,” she said, her voice firm but gentle. “Agatha loves you. She loves us. She’s just... hurting.”

You shook your head weakly, your gaze unfocused, lost in the thick fog of exhaustion and heartbreak. "She said it. She said... he wasn't ours, only hers. She doesn't want us.” Your voice cracked, breaking on the last sentence. “She doesn’t want us.” Your words grew softer, fading into incoherent murmurs as exhaustion pulled you under.

Seeing you like this brought bile up. Your pain was making her physically nauseous. Rio’s arms wrapped around you tightly, as though sheer force alone could keep you from slipping away again. “She’s lost in her grief,” she said softly, resting her chin on top of your head. “She doesn’t mean it. She doesn’t.”

But your eyes were already fluttering closed, exhaustion and despair pulling you into an empty, restless sleep. As your breathing evened out, Rio stayed by your side, her hand resting on yours.

For a long moment, she simply sat there, the weight of the situation pressing down on her. She leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

She wanted to believe Agatha hadn’t meant it, that the words had been spat out in grief and anger, not truth. But seeing you like this—weak, barely conscious, drowning in the pain Agatha had inflicted—made it impossible to excuse.

“She’s lost in her grief. She didn't mean it," Rio murmured again, this time to herself.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The argument replayed in Agatha’s mind as she sat on the bench, viewing the garden Rio created centuries ago as the cool night air brushed against her skin. Her fingers pressed against her temple, rubbing slow, desperate circles as if she could knead away the headache forming beneath her skull.

She took a swig from the half-empty beer bottle, the taste flat and useless to distract her from the ache in her chest. Her words had been cruel, sharp-edged daggers thrown in anger. "He was never your son. Not you, not Rio. He was my son." The memory of your devastated expression was seared into her mind.

She’d meant it in the moment. Or at least, she’d convinced herself she did. Grief over Nicky had festered into something raw and ugly, and in her anguish, she had taken it out on you—the person who had only ever tried to love her through her faults. Your love was pure.

While Nicky had inherited little of your features, what you had given him was more personal than any resemblance could ever be. Your ability to love someone regardless of their past and all the terrible things they've done is one of a kind. Agatha was sure there was no one who could ever grace this world the way you did. That was what made you stronger than any power she or Rio could ever possess.

But that purity was suffocating. It was too much like his. It was like he had never left. And yet, he was gone.

That was the worst part. Every time she looked at you, at Rio, it was a reminder of what she had lost. Of what she could never get back.

It wasn’t fair that you and Rio were still here with her when he wasn’t. It wasn’t fair that you kept loving her, even after all the ways she pushed you away. It wasn’t fair that you could carry on, bearing his memory with softness, while she was drowning in the weight of it.

Maybe that was why she lashed out. Because she hated that you were proof love could survive grief. And she hated herself even more for resenting you for it.

But now, in the openness of the garden, regret gnawed at her, eating her alive. She wished she could take it back, wished she could go back in time to undo the pain she’d caused. She hated herself for how easily the words had slipped out, sharp and unforgiving. It was a defense second nature to her. It was as unstoppable as her magick siphoning. It relented before she could remember that the people she lashed out at were the ones she loved most.

The sound of the back door slamming and heavy footsteps jolted her from her thoughts.

Agatha shot to her feet, as she carelessly discarded the bottle she had been nursing. She turned sharply, her heart hammering against her ribs as Rio strode toward her. The guilt and sorrow clung to Agatha like a shadow, but Rio wasn’t here to acknowledge her pain. This wasn’t about her.

She didn’t speak at first, only stood before Agatha, her entire body trembling with a rage barely containable as she tried to formulate her words carefully. Her chest rose and fell in sharp, uneven breaths, her fists curling so tightly at her sides that her knuckles went white.

Agatha froze. Her gaze flickered around Rio's figure, taking in the rigid set of her shoulders, the barely restrained fury rolling off of her in waves. Then Agatha saw it—dark stains smeared across Rio’s hands, stark against her skin. The realization hit her like ice water.

Blood.

Her stomach twisted violently. She felt the breath hitch in her throat as her gaze snapped back to Rio’s face. The rage was still there, burning bright, but beneath it—buried just deep enough to go unnoticed by anyone else—was fear.

“You know what you’ve caused?” Rio’s voice was low and deadly, trembling with restrained rage.

Agatha swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. “I—”

Rio cut Agatha off before she could try to explain. “Do you know what Y/N tried to do because of you?” The words were spit through clenched teeth, but her voice cracked on your name.

“What... why-” she stammered. Once again, getting cut off.

“She thought you didn’t want her anymore. That you didn’t want us anymore.” Rio’s composure shattered, her breath coming in ragged bursts. “Do you have any idea what it felt like to find the love of our lives bleeding out in our tub? Because of you? Because you let your grief fester into something that poisoned her?”

Rio’s hands trembled as she dragged them through her hair, her breath coming in sharp, angry heaves. Then, suddenly, as if overwhelmed by the weight of it all, she pressed the heels of her palms against her eyes and let out a harsh, shuddering breath.

Agatha couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

Her vision swam, your face flashing in her mind—not the way she had last seen it, but in a way that it looked utterly lifeless.

Tears welled in her eyes, her hands trembling as she clutched at the edge of the bench for support. “I... I didn’t know,” she choked out, her voice barely a whisper.

Rio dropped her hands, her gaze snapping to Agatha with something close to disbelief. Then she laughed, humorless and bitter. “You didn’t know?” she echoed, voice raw. “How could you not know, Agatha? Don’t give me that pathetic reasoning. You know her more than you know yourself. You know how deeply she feels everything. Love. Pain. And now she thinks you hate her.”

Agatha’s tears spilled over, her chest heaving with the weight of her guilt. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen,” she pleaded, her voice breaking. “I didn’t mean to hurt her. I just... I didn’t know how to deal with it. I didn’t know how to-.”

Rio’s expression softened for a fleeting moment, the raw pain in Agatha’s panic stirring something deep within her. But she quickly steeled herself, unwilling to let sympathy distract her from the truth.

"You need to fix this." Her words were quiet, firm, and final.

Agatha blinked through the blur of tears. She hadn't felt this fear since Nicky.

“If you ever loved her, if you ever loved us, then you’ll make this right,” Rio said filled with tiredness and desperation. “Because if you don’t, you’ll lose us both.”

Agatha’s breath hitched.

Rio’s words hung in the air like a heavy, suffocating fog. Without waiting for a response, she turned and strode back inside, the door swinging shut behind her with a thud.

She had been so consumed by her own grief that Agatha hadn’t realized she had become the very thing she feared, the thing that had broken you.

Agatha stood there stunned in silence, her mind reeling. Her knees buckled, and she collapsed into the dirt of the garden. Her fingers dug into the soil as though it could somehow anchor her to the ground. The weight of Rio’s words crashed over her like a tidal wave, and for the first time, the full gravity of her actions hit her.

Her guilt twisted like a knife in her gut. Her sobs were quiet at first, but soon they grew louder, wracking her body with the force of her grief. Her pain pulsed around her, a sickness that spread without forgiveness. Her gaze darted around, watching in anguish as the pink azaleas she had once tended with such care now wilted, their petals curling in on themselves as if recoiling from her presence. The energy emanating from her twisted the life around her, black veins creeping up the stems, the poison of her emotions seeping into the earth. Just like she did to you.

It was a silent parallel of how she had poisoned you.

The thought made her sick.

She had always known that her anger and pain had pushed you and Rio away, but she hadn’t realized just how far it had gone until now. The fear that she might lose both you and Rio, it was too much to bear. And for the first time, the full weight of her actions hit her, her breath came in ragged gasps. She didn’t know how to fix it, how to undo the damage she’d done. But she knew one thing for certain: if she didn’t try, she would lose you both. And that was a price she couldn’t afford to pay.

#agatha all along #agatha harkness #agatha harkness x reader #agatha x reader #rio vidal #rio vidal x reader #rio x reader #agatha harkness x rio vidal x reader #agatha x rio #agathario #nicky scratch #nicholas scratch

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10ava01 · 1 month ago

Note

Anon who requested the childhood au fic here IT WAS PERFECT PERFECT PERFECT pt 2 is needed immdeitly omg i loved every word 🫶🫶

OMG, thank you so much! I was kinda worried that I put too much angst in Part 1, but I’m so glad you guys like it.

I hope you guys have fun reading this. Here is part 2 as promised!

Part 1

Masterlist

Falling back in (2)

You both were being watched without your knowledge.

Sam is standing a few feet away from you, arms crossed, amused. His gaze flickers between Joaquin and you. Sam has known you for the longest time since you had been assigned to him. The person he has known just vanished before his eyes—the mysterious woman that only talked about her private life when necessary just disappeared before his eyes in a matter of seconds. And the reason behind it? None other than Joaquin Torres.

Sam couldn't believe what was happening right in front of his eyes. Sure, it seems like you two have some kind of history together, but by your facial expressions, he can't tell anything other than that you’ve just witnessed a ghost passing by. So, to put himself and you out of your misery, he says something.

“Gotta say, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you speechless before,” Sam remarks.

The world became quiet for a second. You didn’t notice anything or anyone. The only person that mattered to you was him. And now, you are forced to face reality, just like years before. The only problem is, you don’t know if history is repeating itself or not. Oh, you hope it’s not, and for the love of God, that it’s not.

You snap out of your daze, clearing your throat. “I’m just… surprised.”

Behind Sam’s look is something deeper that you can’t figure out, and you have always known what Sam is up to. That man is so predictable that it’s even ridiculous to you, but today, you are stunned for the second time. First Joaquin, and now Sam.

The storyteller behind your story is playing some tricks on you, you’re sure of it. But before you can analyze Sam, you hear his voice.

Joaquin smirks. “Yeah? Can’t imagine why.”

Oh, that fucker is now messing with you. After what he told you moments ago, he dares to tease you in front of your colleague. That stupid smirk. You’re going to slap that smirk off his beautiful face.

“I guess I thought… maybe you moved on. Didn’t need me around anymore.”

Every word is now stamped into your brain. Before you can give him some of his own medicine, you hear Sam’s voice.

“Well, as long as you’re here to help and not to cause more problems, we’re good.”

Joaquin’s eyes flick to you before he responds. “No problems. Just unfinished business.”

Unfinished business, my ass. For the second time, you’re speechless. First, because seeing him was like watching a man walk out of his grave, and now, because he’s teasing you like you’re pals again. The anger you couldn’t let out after his speech is building in you now.

Sam claps a hand on his shoulder before walking away. “Good. Now, if you two are done standing around looking like a bad romance novel cover, we’ve got work to do.”

With that, you are done for today. Done with him, done with this mission, and just done.

As it turns out, Joaquin is not done with you yet.

He is everywhere.

During the strategy meeting you prepared for weeks, he is there. Sitting in your seat and clinging to every word that comes out of your mouth. Not only were you nervous because the director was also present and this meeting might lead to a promotion, but now, with him being here, your plans for the future are fucked. He makes you nervous—the way his eyes linger around your body even at the slightest movement, agreeing with every proposal you make, and worst of all, he looks damn good sitting there and looking at you like he wants to kiss you. Maybe calling it nervousness is an understatement.

But now, late at night, with the world being quiet and the weight of everything pressing down on you, you just want to disappear.

That’s why you go up to the rooftop of the safe house you’re staying at. SHIELD cannot afford to lose one of their finest agents.

This place isn’t as bad as the last one, and you get to stare at the clear sky and watch the stars without any noise or skyscrapers. So no, this place is not bad at all. But sometimes, the quiet turns into loneliness, and you feel alone, like in the old times. In those moments, you used to think about what Joaquin was up to, if he was thinking about you, or if he even felt lonely like you did.

Even now that he is back, you can’t get the courage to ask him any of your questions. Maybe it’s because you somehow found comfort in not knowing. Always trying to make up scenarios and just living with that.

“You always did like the view from up here.”

You jump slightly at the sound of his voice. He’s already sitting beside you before you can respond or react. You were too deep in your thoughts to notice him.

“Still remember all my hiding spots?” you ask.

He chuckles. “Always.”

You both don’t speak for a moment, only silence. The atmosphere is heavy between you, but not quite uncomfortable. Everything about this situation is familiar, like the countless nights you two spent together as kids in silence.

Then he exhales, running a hand through his hair. “I meant what I said earlier.”

You glance at him. “About what?”

He hesitates, then turns to face you fully. “About never stopping thinking about you.”

Your heart clenches. “Joaquin…”

“I know I messed up,” he continues, his voice low. “I should’ve called. Should’ve written back. But I never forgot you.”

You swallow hard. “Then why didn’t you?”

His expression softens, and for the first time, you see the guilt behind his eyes. “Because I was afraid you’d moved on. That you didn’t need me anymore.”

You let out a quiet laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “You were my best friend, Joaquin. How could I ever forget you?”

For the first time in your life, you can’t figure him out. There is a beat of silence.

Then he reaches for your hand. “I don’t want to waste any more time.”

You let him hold onto your hands as your breath catches in your throat. He intertwines his fingers with yours.

“If you’ll have me,” he murmurs, “I want to be in your life. However, you’ll let me.”

Your heart pounds. This is one of those moments you prayed for. You hoped for. But this is reality. And it scares the shit out of you. All you can think about are the what-ifs. What if he leaves again? What if this promise doesn’t mean anything? What if you let him in and he breaks your heart again, and you cannot pull yourself back up again? What if…

But you have lived half your life in what-ifs, and now he is here. Present and wanting to change. This is an opportunity you cannot let slip away. Even if you try to deny it, he will always be the love of your life, and if you cannot be with him, you cannot be with anyone else. He owns your heart. Always has owned your heart, and you know it too, even if you try to deny it.

So you tighten your grip on his hand, meeting his gaze with a small, knowing smile.

“You never really left it.”

And just like that, the years between you disappear.

Joaquin somehow became your shadow, always next to you, no matter where you are, making you laugh like old times, and it reminds you why you fell in love with him in the first place. Not because he is the most beautiful creature you have laid your eyes on, not because he is the only guy that has given you attention through the years, but because with him, it didn’t matter what appearance you had to put on for yourself. He understood you without you having to spell every little thing out loud, unlike in your previous relationships. He is your other half and always will be. Sometimes you believe that you were meant to find each other, and that had nothing to do with the influence from his mother, who predicted—even when you were only five—that you were going to be her daughter-in-law.

But there is an invisible string that has always pulled you together, no matter how much time has passed.

You love him, and this time, you are not wasting time anymore. You are going to pour your heart out to him, even though it has always been his.

And tonight, after this long-lasting mission is finally over and the adrenaline is still coursing through your veins, he pulls you aside from the other teammates. To be alone with you. And as he cups your face—

“Can I kiss you?” he whispers, his breath warm against your lips.

You don’t answer. You don’t need to.

This has been your fantasy since you turned nine, and finally, all your wishes come true.

When you lean in, pressing your lips to his, everything clicks into place like it should have years ago.

#joaquin torres x reader #marvel #falcon #sam wilson #danny ramirez #happy ending #hurt/comfort #i need him

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babybearnation · 4 months ago

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hey, cupid has shot my heart

⎇kimi antonelli x gn!reader - ollie plays matchmaker (oneshot) ⎇author's note: i love this idea so much tbh also why did this fic end the exact same way as my other kimi fic?? ⎇content warnings: brief misunderstandings ⎇word count: 1k

Ollie smirks, peeking past the hedge to watch as Y/n and Kimi meet each other in person for the first time. He's supposed to be there with the pair of them, but something had held him back for a few minutes and now he's rather glad it did. Watching his two best friends be so awkward with each other after dealing with their online flirting for months on end was admittedly rather charming.

And also perfect.

Ollie had been playing matchmaker all along and now that Y/n is here, in person, Ollie fully intends on taking his matchmaking to the next level. He knows Y/n and Kimi would be perfect together and he's determined to be the reason it happens.

Step one? Get you two back to that flirting stage you were at before.

Ollie puts his finger to his mouth, prompting Y/n to be silent as he sneaks up behind Kimi. He jumps up, making a weird noise, as he claps his hands down onto Kimi's shoulders. Kimi jolts, a small squeak of shock falling from his lips, before he whirls around, eyebrows furrowed.

Y/n falls into laughter, immediately turning Kimi's attention away from glaring at Ollie to instead stare at them wistfully. Ollie groans. "Get a room, the pair of ya." Both of them flush at that before Y/n giggles and steps closer.

"I wouldn't mind sharing a room with Kimi." Y/n says before laughing again and covering their face. Kimi laughs along but his own face is bright red and Ollie feels like he could leave right now and neither of them would notice.

It's almost insane how quickly step one of Ollie's plan succeeds. For the rest of the day, you and Kimi flirt with each other, all crimson cheeked and shy smiled. Ollie would gag at the cutesy nature of it all if this wasn't basically exactly what he wanted to happen.

Step two; get the both of you to confess to Ollie about having feelings for the other.

Y/n sighs, biting their lip as they stare down at their drink. Ollie waits, careful and patient, for their response to his question. With another sigh, Y/n looks up.

"Yes, I like Kimi. What's it to you?" Y/n says, their fingers clenching and unclenching around the width of their paper cup. Ollie was sure that if they clenched any harder, the cup would crumble under their fist, spilling boiling hot liquid over their fingers.

Before Ollie could respond, a gasp sounds out next to them, accompanied by the sound of a paper cup hitting the ground. Ollie and Y/n both turn to look, finding... Kimi. Oh god, Ollie hadn't expected him to be here. Y/n makes a pained noise and stands up, chair screeching back awkwardly.

"You planned this, didn't you? You planned to expose me and my... my feelings so you and Kimi could have something to laugh about. I can't believe you." Y/n says, snatching up their things. Ollie splutters, words dying on his tongue before they can properly form.

"Y/n, wait!" Kimi calls out as Y/n starts to sprint off. He goes to chase after them but Ollie snags his bicep before he can, tugging him closer.

"Don't. Let them have some time." Ollie says. He chews his bottom lip before slumping back into his chair, a heavy sigh leaving his mouth. "I fucked up."

"A little bit, yes. But it's nice to know my feelings are returned." Kimi says, looking up from where he kneels on the ground, cleaning up the spilled coffee. Y/n's abandon drink sits in front of Ollie tauntingly. He sighs again before Kimi's words register in his brain.

"Oh, so you do like them back?" Ollie squeals, sitting up with excited eyes. Kimi flushes and stands up, disposing of the paper cup and the dirty napkins before sitting in Y/n's previously abandoned seat.

"Of course. I wouldn't flirt with them as much as I do if I didn't like them pretty seriously." Kimi says, stumbling over the words. Ollie waits for him to continue on but nothing happens.

"Well? You gonna do anything about it?" Ollie asks. Yes, he said they should give Y/n some time, but two minutes is some time, right? Kimi sighs and looks around before his eyes snag on the abandoned drink.

"I'll go... return their drink to them. Yeah. That'll work." Kimi says, standing up. A triumphant grin sits on his face. He carefully picks the drink up, holding it securely. Ollie smiles and stands up too.

"Good luck, have fun, and don't let me catch you two making out." Ollie giggles excitedly. He waves Kimi away before turning and heading back to Haas, soft giggles falling from his lips.

A sense of victory floods through his veins.

Ollie can't find Y/n or Kimi anywhere. The last time he saw either of them was in that blasted coffee area when he'd damn near screwed everything up for the pair of them. Or maybe he did actually screw everything up in the end? Maybe that's why he can't find Y/n or Kimi anywhere.

Oh god.

Kimi's driver's room is the first place to look, Ollie decides, so he stalks over, dodging past Mercedes staff whilst trying to look as innocuous as possible. Finally, he stands before the door. He pushes it open and...

Y/n is sat on Kimi's lap, their tongues entwined as they kiss. Kimi's hands settle tightly on Y/n's waist whilst Y/n's fingers are twining through Kimi's plentiful curls. Ollie grimaces at the sight before knocking against the doorframe, a groan accompanying his knock.

"I thought I said not to let me catch you making out!" Ollie grumbles. The pair separate, embarrassment and shyness flooding Kimi's features. Y/n, meanwhile, flips Ollie off with a smirk before leaning back in to kiss Kimi again. Ollie huffs and rolls his eyes, turning and leaving, the door slamming shut behind him.

"Fucking finally!"

#ᵔᴥᵔ fics #formula 1 #f1 #kimi antonelli #ka12 #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #kimi antonelli x reader #ka12 x reader #formula 1 oneshot #f1 oneshot #babybearnation

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memento-rory · 9 months ago

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✭ 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐭. 𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐚, 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭: 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒕𝒉.

✭ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you finally find out why schlatt ghosted you, and set things right, once and for all.

✭ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: the teeniest bit of smut.

✭ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.5k

✭ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: here she is, the moment you’ve all been waiting for. dual pov, because i can’t resist diving into schlatt’s psyche. enjoy! 🩵

Your eyes stay trained on Schlatt’s back as he meanders back to his room, running a hand through his hair. A scowl finds its way onto your face. Did you not just have a moment? Why is he running from it?

“Whasuwihum?”

Your scowl stays on your face as you turn toward the voice you just heard, and Amelia scowls right back at you with concern.

“Sorry, what?” You say, unable to make out what Amelia had asked because you were so deep in thought.

“I said, ‘What’s up with him?’ Is everything okay?”

Amelia eyes you in an accusatory way, and you wave your hand dismissively. She has a right to be accusatory, but you’re not about to reveal what happened in the elevator to her, or anyone else for that matter. It wouldn’t be right to spill Schlatt’s secret. He’d never spilled yours.

“Yeah,” You say, recovering quickly as everyone waits for your answer, “He’s just a little tired from the tournament. Too much exercise, too much sun. You know how it is.”

“Riiiight,” Amelia drawls, clearly suspicious of your weak answer. Her suspicion elicits an awkward silence between the whole group, but luckily, James comes to your rescue.

“I’m fuckin’ starvin’, you guys. Let’s get some grub!” He exclaims, clapping his hands together.

James shoots you an apologetic look as everyone starts to head into the elevators, and it finally dawns on you. All of the weird looks, all of the circumstances that put you and Schlatt in close proximity — the seats on the airplane, the rooms next to each other, the tournament teams. He knows. He knows and he’s been fucking Parent Trap-ing the two of you.

James watches as your eyes narrow in realization, and his own go wide. He knows that you know that he knows. He gives you a sheepish grin, no doubt silently praying you’ll have mercy on him the next time you get him alone.

Part of you is a little miffed, sure, but that part is immediately shoved aside by the part of you that just wants to know what went wrong with Schlatt. James knows! You need to pick his brain, push his buttons, do whatever it takes to get him to reveal all his secrets.

James starts to make his way to the elevator, but you grab onto the back of his shirt, yanking him away from the group. He lets out a comically loud yelp.

“He’ll be down in a minute,” You plaster a smile on your face, “I need to talk to him about… wedding things.”

“Okay…” Amelia says, as the elevator doors start to close. She knows something is definitely up, and you shoot her a pleading look. I’ll fill you in later.

Satisfied with the silent promise, Amelia smiles as the doors close.

You waste no time turning on James. “Spill. What do you know?”

James shakes his head, holding his hands up on surrender. “I don’t know anything.”

“I can’t believe you’re lying to me right now,” You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I’ve been sworn to secrecy.”

“So you do know something!” You point a finger at him.

“Shit.” James drags a hand down his face, “Look, (Y/N)—”

“I just want to know what I did wrong.” You interrupt him, before sighing. “Things were really good, and I just… I don’t know what happened. Surely there’s something you could tell me.”

James looks like he wants to say something, like there’s nothing else in the world he’d rather do than say something, but he shakes his head. “I’m sorry, dude. It’s not my place.”

You have to give it to James — he’s a damn good friend, annoyingly so. You know you shouldn’t keep poking, but your curiosity wins out.

“You’re essentially Parent Trap-ing us, but you won’t tell me why?”

James stares at you incredulously. “I’m not Parent Trap-ing you!”

“Yes you are!”

“…Fine. I am.” James heaves a sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Is it working?”

“It would, if I knew what happened.” You try again, and James shakes his head again.

“Maybe you should ask him.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes. “Yeah, because that will definitely work out. He’s so forthcoming with his feelings.”

“Can’t help ya, man. Sorry.” James shrugs, and you know his lips are zipped for good. “Now, can we eat? I’m so hungry.”

“Fine.” You huff, pressing the button to call the elevator. As you wait, you look back over at James. “Does Amelia know you’re Parent Trap-ing us?”

“It was her idea.” James smirks mischievously at you. “Well, sort of, anyway. She doesn’t know anything, she just wants you and Schlatt to get along like you used to.”

“Yeah, well…” You sigh, as the elevator dings, “Her and me both.”

• ✭ •

Schlatt feels like shit for ditching dinner with everyone, but what else is he supposed to do? Act like everything is fine, like he wasn’t just scared shitless in a tiny metal death box? What would they all think of him if they knew?

He’s glad that it was just you and him in that elevator. He wasn’t lying when he said you make people feel comfortable. He’s always found you to be a comforting presence — well, maybe not as of late, but still. He doesn’t know what would have happened had you not been in that elevator with him.

Schlatt flops down on his bed, his back hitting the plush comforter, the fabric billowing beneath him. He puts his hands over his face, taking a deep breath, releasing it full force as he recalls the way you hesitated in the elevator. He’d put the ball in your court and you didn’t make a single move.

It’s over, done, finished. He tried, you didn’t reciprocate. He finally had his answer.

It’s obvious that you care about him — the way you calmed him down in the elevator was proof of that — but you don’t feel the way that he feels about you. It’s time to put those hopes to bed.

Schlatt tries to keep himself busy for the next hour or two, waiting for word that everyone is back from dinner so he can try to regain even the slightest sense of normalcy. He turns on the TV, flipping through the channels, romcom after romcom torturing him. He scrolls through his phone, going through his friends’ stories on Instagram, before coming across a video of you and Schlatt celebrating your tournament win. He watches as your face lights up when he picks you up off the ground, spinning you around. Fuck.

Schlatt drops his phone onto his stomach with a huff. He thinks about just going to sleep for the night, but his phone pings with a text from its spot on his stomach.

> from: (Y/N) (Y/L/N)

>> balcony?

Fuuuuck.

• ✭ •

Dinner goes smoothly, everyone too busy gorging themselves on the delicious food and enjoying present company to prod you about what happened in the elevator. You mostly just pick at your food, too in your head to even think about eating.

Maybe James was right. Maybe you just needed to talk things out with Schlatt. It’s the one thing you haven’t tried.

He’d almost kissed you in the elevator. That has to mean something, right?

You can’t play this guessing game anymore. You have to know. You have to.

As everyone almost finishes their meals, you order a to-go dinner for Schlatt, hoping the fact that you’ve shown up with food for him will soften him up enough to make him want to listen to what you have to say. James eyes you from across the table, lifting up his glass to you, a proud smile on his face. You smile back at him.

It’s now or never. You need to tell Schlatt that you’re still interested, if he’ll have you.

When you get back to your room, you immediately head out onto your balcony, sending a text to Schlatt.

> to: J. Schlatt

>> balcony?

• ✭ •

Schlatt looks up from his phone to his open curtains, and he sees you leaning over your railing, giving him a shy wave. You stare at him hopefully, and how is he supposed to deny you when you look like that in the moonlight?

He sighs as he gets up from his bed, padding over to the sliding glass door. He slips outside, the cool night breeze just barely blowing his hair out of his face.

“Hey.” You greet him first, your voice low, “Just wanted to check on you, see how you’re feeling, after… well, you know.”

“I’m fine.” Schlatt says, and the phrase comes out clipped, gruffer than he’d like for it to. Your face falls just slightly, and he immediately wants to apologize, but what good would it do? You’ve clearly made up your mind about him. He should have known better.

“Okay, well, I brought you dinner. Thought you might be hungry.” You tell him, holding a to-go box out to him over the railing of your balcony. As he takes it from you, you say, “I just got you what you ordered last time, I hope that’s okay.”

Schlatt wishes things would just go back to the way they were at the start of the trip. He wishes you hated him again. He doesn’t know what to do with your kindness, or how to stop the butterflies from fluttering in his stomach at the nervous smile on your face. God, he loves that smile. He thinks he has since the day he met you.

“Thanks.” He mumbles, staring down at the box, and you nod, awkwardly twiddling your thumbs as a silence descends over the two of you.

“Are we okay?” You blurt out, and Schlatt looks up at you. “I know in the elevator, we… Well, you know, there was a second there… I—”

“Stop.” Schlatt shakes his head. “You don’t have to explain yourself. It is what it is.”

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. Schlatt doesn’t really understand what you’re confused about.

“Schlatt—” You start, but Schlatt interrupts you again.

“We’re fine. Just— leave it.” Schlatt says, holding up the box, “Thanks for dinner. G’night, (Y/N).”

Without waiting for a response, he disappears back into his room.

• ✭ •

What the fuck?

You have half a mind to hop over the railing to his balcony, to pound on the glass of the door, demanding him to hear you out. You don’t know what good that would do, he’s probably still stressed from what happened earlier and he’s not in a good place to talk. You can understand that.

You could try again tomorrow, but you don’t know when you’ll have a chance, since the entire day is blocked out with all-day bachelorette party activities, and this isn’t something you could just text him.

You breathe out a resigned sigh, heading back into your room for bed.

Maybe it just isn’t meant to be. Maybe you guys had your chance, and that’s it — just a fleeting moment only meant to last a short time. A month together was better than no time at all, you suppose.

• ✭ •

Schlatt is the first person to arrive in the lobby in the morning.

He hadn’t meant to be up and at ‘em so early this morning, but he’d hardly slept anyway, too wrapped up in his thoughts. He was up for hours wondering if he should have given you the chance to talk, wondering if maybe you were planning to actually say something that would have surprised him.

But would anything you had to say negate what you’d said all those months ago? Would he ever stop hearing those words in the back of his head? How could he ever be sure that you didn’t still feel that way, even if you said otherwise?

He’s gotten his hopes up too many times. Nothing can really change what happened between the two of you, and he was silly to think otherwise.

Maybe you were both just meant to be friends, and that’s it. At least then you wouldn’t have to justify him being in your life.

“Hey.” Schlatt hears you say, and he looks up from his phone to see you walking up to him. You take a seat in the other chair beside him, giving him a small smile.

“Hey.” He says back, returning the smile. He doesn’t have it in him to be unkind to you anymore — not after you brought him dinner, and especially not after the elevator.

He can tell that you’re surprised by his civility.

“I didn’t think anyone else would be down here yet.” You tell him. “I couldn’t stay in bed any longer. Didn’t really sleep.”

“Yeah, me either.” Schlatt admits, running a hand through his hair. “I never thanked you, yanno, for calmin’ me down.”

You wave your hand dismissively. “All good. You did the same for me. It’s only fair. At least I didn’t have to carry you anywhere.”

Schlatt can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of him at that. He watches as your smile grows. It feels nice to laugh with you — much nicer than the alternative. Perhaps, one day, that could be enough for him.

“Why couldn’t you sleep?” You ask him, “Still anxious, or…?”

Schlatt nods slowly. At least he could use the elevator as an excuse. “Yeah, was just a lil shook up about it still.” He looks over at you, “What about you?”

“You know me,” You shrug, leaning back in the chair, “It’s hard for me to sleep anywhere that isn’t my own bed.”

“I do know that.” Schlatt nods again as he recalls the nights you spent in his bed, “You toss and turn like a fuckin’ maniac.”

You let out a laugh, giving him another shrug. “Didn’t seem to bother you then.”

And it still wouldn’t bother me now, Schlatt thinks. “Yeah, well. I’m a different man now.” He says instead, and he watches your smile falter.

“Clearly.” You murmur, looking away from him.

Shit. He was just trying to joke with you.

“C’mon, (Y/N),” Schlatt sighs, reaching over to gently tap your knee with the back of his hand, “I was just j—”

You move your leg out of his reach as everyone starts to trickle into the lobby. Of course, they all immediately clock the tension between the two of you, and Schlatt sighs inwardly.

James catches Schlatt’s eyes, a scowl settling onto his face as he glances over at you, and then back at Schlatt. Schlatt’s eyebrow raises, but James just shakes his head, looking disappointed.

What the fuck is that about?

• ✭ •

Okay, so, yeah, maybe you reacted a little poorly to Schlatt’s bad attempt at a joke. In your defense, you’re still a little bent out of shape over what happened last night. You can’t help that it hurts.

Amelia has her arm looped in yours as the two of you stroll a couple paces ahead of the rest of the bridesmaids on your way to the spa for a day of pampering and relaxation.

“Okay, what’s going on?” Amelia asks, and you’re honestly surprised it’s taken this long for her to ask. “You’ve been so weird. Talk to me.”

You did promise that you would fill her in. You bite your lip, before taking a deep breath, placing your other hand atop hers. “You have to promise you won’t be mad.”

“I will do no such thing.” Amelia says teasingly, giving your arm a squeeze. “Come on, out with it.”

You lean in close, to make sure there’s absolutely no chance of the other bridesmaids hearing you. You pause, trying to figure out how to start your explanation. “You remember Jasper’s birthday party?”

“Oh, God, do I,” Amelia snickers, “James and Ted got so drunk that they got up on the table and started serenading her.”

“I went home with Schlatt that night.”

Amelia immediately stops laughing, her eyes going wide. “Shut up.”

“…And nearly every night after that one, too, for like, a month.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“…And then he ghosted me out of nowhere.”

“Oh, my God,” Amelia breathes out, shaking her head. “No fucking wonder you’ve been at each other’s throats.” She opens the door to the spa as you arrive, letting you step in first, before entering herself. “Wait, why is he being an asshole if he’s the one that ghosted?”

“That’s what I can’t figure out!” You exclaim a little louder than you’d meant to. You lower your voice again. “I tried to talk to him last night but he blew me off.”

“So you’re still interested?”

“I really thought I wasn’t, but after everything that’s happened this week… All my feelings for him just came rushing back. I thought maybe he felt the same, but I don’t think he does anymore.”

“Well, shit.” Amelia sighs, commiserating with you. She pauses for a minute to check in at the desk, and the woman at the front desk says it’ll be a few minutes before they’re ready for all of you.

You look away from the desk, reaching down to squeeze Amelia’s hand. “You’re not mad that I didn’t tell you, are you?”

“No, because you did tell me, eventually,” Amelia says, “I just don’t know why it took so long for you to do it.”

“I thought about telling you as soon as it happened, but I wanted to keep it private for a while because you and James are… well…”

“Enthusiastic, I know,” Amelia admits, before letting you continue speaking.

“By the time I actually wanted to tell you guys, shit went south, and then I didn’t want to tell anyone. It would have been too awkward to be like, ‘Hey, guess what, I started seeing Schlatt and fell in love with him but we’re actually broken up now and none of you knew until now!’”

“Wait, you’re in love with him?!” Amelia cries out, immediately slapping a hand over her mouth, but it’s too late. All of the bridesmaids have heard her.

Instantly, they swarm you, but they don’t have a chance to prod you for answers before you’re all called back into the spa.

• ✭ •

Schlatt’s game is off, and he knows that everyone else knows it.

He swings his golf club, just barely clipping the ball, sending it flying at a weird angle. It lands in the rough, and Schlatt drags a hand down his face in frustration.

“Dude, get your head in the game.” James says, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

“Okay, Troy Bolton,” Ethan snorts, and James rolls his eyes.

“We’re literally on a golf course. I could bust out Bet On It right now.” James threatens, striking a very Troy Bolton pose, which makes everyone laugh.

Well, everyone except Schlatt, who is too deep in his own head to even register what’s being said around him.

Eddy waves a hand in Schlatt’s face, trying to bring him back to reality. Schlatt blinks, and Eddy comes into focus.

“What’s going on with you?” Eddy asks, “You’re, like, not here.”

“Sorry,” Schlatt mumbles, shaking his head, “Just been a weird couple’a days.” When they all look at him in concern, he waves his hand, “All good, guys, really. Quit fussin’ over me. Shit’s weird.”

“Excuse us for carin’ about you, man.” Ted tries to lighten the mood, but Schlatt just scowls at him. Natalie elbows Ted in the side.

Schlatt wonders if he should just fess up, so everyone can stop looking at him like some wounded puppy, but he fears those looks will only get worse when he confesses what’s been bothering him.

On the other hand, it might be nice to finally get it off his chest.

Schlatt takes a deep breath. “Fine. I’ll tell you what’s up, but then you gossipy fucks have to drop it, okay?”

Everyone nods in agreement, and Schlatt huffs out a sigh. “I was seein’ (Y/N) for a while.”

Nobody says a word, and James nods at Schlatt, beckoning him to continue.

“It was really fuckin’ nice — for a while, anyway — and then she said some bullshit that I can’t seem to fuckin’ forget.” Schlatt says, running a hand through his hair, “She was like, ‘Can’t believe I’m with someone like you,’ or whatever, and when I asked her what she meant by that, she said somethin’ like, ‘Well, you’re just so… you.’”

A collective wince leaves his friends’ mouths.

“And maybe she didn’t mean anythin’ by it, I don’t fuckin’ know, but it stung. Was like she was embarrassed by me or somethin’. So I cut and run, to save her the embarrassment of having to tell people we were a thing.”

“When was this?” Ethan asks.

“A year ago,” Schlatt answers him, surprisingly unbothered by his curiosity. He was right — it does feel good to get off his chest. “Haven’t really had to be near her for very long ‘til now. It was easy at first, like, I thought if i just acted like a real asshole, she wouldn’t want anything to do with me, and we could just save ourselves the trouble. A lotta shit has happened this week—” Schlatt eyes Ted, who gives him an apologetic look, “— that’s really made me realize that I really fuckin’ miss her. I don’t know how to be normal around her.”

“And you don’t think she feels the same way?” Natalie speaks up, cocking her head to the side, “Because — and I’m speaking from an outside perspective here, so take this with a grain of salt, I guess — from what I’ve seen, I think she might feel the same way.”

“Nah,” Schlatt shakes his head, “I don’t think she does.” He doesn’t mean to be dismissive, but he’s mostly made his peace with everything, there’s no use getting his hopes up again. “It’s cool. I don’t wanna think about it anymore.”

“All good, bro,” James says, before pointing at Natalie with the end of his club. “You’re up, Nat. Show these chumps how it’s done.”

Schlatt gives James a small smile, a silent sign of his gratitude for saving him from any more questions or comments. James winks at him, before gesturing for everyone to get out of Natalie’s space so she can make her swing.

As everyone returns to the game, Ted pulls out his phone, his thumbs flying wildly over his keyboard.

• ✭ •

You’ve been at the spa for hours, getting the full workup — massage, facial, manicure, pedicure, sauna. It’s been nice to spend so long relaxing after the week you’ve had, and your friends have been kind enough to leave you alone about what they’d overheard hours ago, at least while you relax.

But, of course, that can’t last forever.

They all descend upon you like vultures at lunch.

“Okay, spill,” Jasper says, as the mimosas start flowing, “Who are you in love with, and why are we just now hearing about it?”

“Only spill if you want to, though!” Maple comes to your defense. “We totally understand if you don’t.”

“Right, what they said,” Jasper nods, but you can see in her eyes that she’s dying to know, and you can’t really blame her. If it was any of them, you’d feel the exact same way.

“Is it Schlatt?” Kelsey blurts out, and your eyebrows shoot up. Fuck, are you that obvious?

Kelsey’s eyes go wide at your silence. “Oh, my God. I was joking. It’s Schlatt?”

“It’s Schlatt.” You confirm, nodding slowly.

“Bitch, you owe me ten dollars.” Jasper says to Kelsey, who huffs a sigh, pulling out her phone to send Jasper the money.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Jasper says as you scowl at her, “You forget how well I know you.”

“How long have you felt that way about him?” Maple asks, moving the attention back to the matter at hand.

“A while.” You admit, moving some of your lunch around with your fork, “We were together, for a bit.”

You fill them in on everything that happened between you and Schlatt, and by the end of it, they’re all scowling.

Kelsey rolls her eyes. “So he ghosted you and he’s acting like this?”

“That’s what I said!” Amelia exclaims, stabbing into her lunch with her fork.

“Look, your guess is as good as mine,” You lean back in your chair. “It’s whatever, now, though. I tried to talk to him last night and he didn’t want to hear it, so.” You shrug, taking a sip of your drink.

“Just forget about him for now,” Maple says, “Let’s just focus on having fun today, yeah? It’s not every day you get to be on a beautiful island with all your friends.”

“I’ll cheers to that,” You smile at them, before raising your glass, clinking it against all of your friends’ glasses.

• ✭ •

The bachelor’s day ends with a trip to a fancy-ass steakhouse, and thankfully, no one brings you up again.

Schlatt returns to his room for the night with a full belly and a massive weight lifted off of his shoulders.

He empties his pockets at his nightstand, setting his phone down, before making his way to the bathroom for a shower before bed.

• ✭ •

The bachelorette’s day ends with a huge cuddle pile in Kelsey’s room, all of the bridesmaids wrapped up in big puffy robes with flutes full of champagne in their hands in the king size bed.

“Let me get a picture.” You say, pulling out your phone for the first time all day. As you go to open your camera, you spot a notification of several texts from Ted, received while you were at the spa.

> from: teddy 🧸

>> i definitely shouldn’t be telling you this, but i can’t stand seeing you and schlatt unhappy. schlatt just told all of us the reason he ghosted

>> he said that you said something that made him think you were embarrassed of him so he cut and run

>> he’s been acting like an asshole to push you away, so you wouldn’t have to explain yourself if you ever told people about your relationship

“Oh my God.” You breathe out, putting a hand over your mouth.

“What? What is it?” Amelia asks, leaning over your shoulder to read the texts.

“Ted found out why Schlatt ghosted me.” You tell the rest of the group, “He thinks I was embarrassed of him.”

“Were you?” Jasper asks you, and you shake your head.

“No, I wasn’t.” You tell her, as you wrack your brain for what you could have said that gave him that idea in the first place.

“You have to tell him!” Maple exclaims, sitting up.

Your eyebrows furrow. “What, now?”

“Yes!” Kelsey nods furiously, “You’ve got to, dude.”

“What if he doesn’t want to hear it?” You ask, and Amelia shakes her head, getting up off the bed to pull you to your feet.

“He has the wrong idea about you, (Y/N),” Amelia says, pulling the robe off of you and fluffing your hair, “All you have to do is clear it up!”

You do. You do have to clear it up. God, you can’t believe he’s gone this long thinking that you were embarrassed of him. You feel awful. No wonder he was such an asshole.

“Okay.” You nod, exhaling a deep breath, “Okay. I’m gonna do it. Wish me luck.”

Everyone cheers as you leave.

You walk the short trip down the hall, texting Schlatt to meet you on your balconies once again.

Once you get to your room, you step outside into the cool night air, and you wait.

• ✭ •

Schlatt walks out of the bathroom, a towel in his hand as he starts to dry his hair. He wanders back to his bed, picking his phone up off the nightstand. His eyes go wide as he spots two texts from you.

> from: (Y/N) (Y/L/N)

>> (30mins ago) balcony? it’s important.

>> (15mins ago) please, schlatt.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

Schlatt scrambles across his room, damn near tripping over himself as he rushes to get dressed. God, he hopes you’re still out there waiting for him.

• ✭ • ✭ •

You stand up from your chair the second Schlatt comes outside. You thought for sure that he wasn’t going to show, and now that he has, your heart pounds against your ribcage.

Schlatt doesn’t get a word out before you start talking, making your way over to the railing of your balcony.

“Whatever I said, I didn’t mean it the way you think I meant it.” You blurt out, and Schlatt’s eyebrows shoot upwards in surprise.

“What?” Schlatt asks, a confused expression sprouting across his face. You’re not talking about what he thinks you are, are you?

“Ted told me why you ghosted.”

“That gossipy bitch.” Schlatt mumbles under his breath.

“I’ve never been embarrassed of you. Ever.” You keep talking, gripping the rails and wishing he was closer. “I don’t even know what it was that I said, but I promise, I never meant it like that.”

Schlatt looks down at the tile of the balcony. “You said you couldn’t believe that you were seein’ ‘someone like me,’” He makes air quotes with his fingers, looking back up at you.

An incredulous laugh bubbles up out of you before you can stop it. Schlatt scowls at you.

“Yeah, real funny.” Schlatt starts to leave, but you reach out over the railing to try and stop him.

“No, Schlatt, I’m sorry,” You say, shaking your head, “I said that because I couldn’t believe you wanted to be with someone like me.”

“What?” Schlatt asks again, his eyebrows furrowing.

“I was just surprised, that’s all.” You explain, “You had so many girls fawning over you all the time, I just thought… I just thought it was crazy that you picked me out of all of them.”

“Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?” Schlatt’s voice raises just slightly, and he stares at you in disbelief.

“Um… No…” You stammer out, and Schlatt throws his arms up in frustration.

“(Y/N), I’d have to be a real fuckin’ idiot to not pick you.” Schlatt declares, moving over to his own railing. “I have been head over fuckin’ heels for you since I saw you in that stupid hat—”

“Beret.” You correct him, and he shakes his head, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“—and there isn’t a single moment where I’m not thinking about you.” Schlatt continues, leaning with his hands on the railing. He wishes you were closer. “I shouldn’t have ever ghosted ya like that. I should’ve just asked what you meant, but I got a little insecure, I guess. Couldn’t imagine someone like you pickin’ me either.”

“I can’t imagine picking anyone else.” You admit, and Schlatt swears he feels his heart swell. For once, he welcomes the butterflies that find their way into his stomach.

“Can I kiss you?” Schlatt asks, and you nod furiously as Schlatt leans as far over the railing as he can. You meet him in the middle, your lips connecting in a very long overdue kiss.

Schlatt pulls away from you, mumbling, “Fuck this,” before throwing his leg over the railing.

“Schlatt, oh my God!” You let out a shocked laugh, “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doin’?” Schlatt quips, balancing on the lip of his balcony, before moving his foot to the lip of your balcony, “I’m tryna get over there so I can give my girl a proper kiss.”

My girl. God, that’s all you’ve wanted for months.

Effortlessly, Schlatt bridges the gap between the balconies, and he doesn’t even wait to kiss you again before he gets to your balcony, still standing on the edge.

You let out another laugh as you pull away from him, grabbing onto his arm to steady him as he steps over the railing of your balcony. As soon as his feet are flat on the tile, he reaches out, placing a hand at the back of your neck, pulling you to him. He slots his lips against yours again, sighing into your mouth at the feeling of you against him once again. He wants nothing more than to show you just how much he’s missed you, so he starts to do just that.

Schlatt leads you over to the lounge chair, laying you down onto the plush cushions, attaching your lips together once more. He settles in between your legs, hiking your leg up to his hip, dragging his hand down the soft skin of your thigh.

Schlatt’s lips move from your lips to your jaw, then down to your neck as he slides a hand up your shirt, cupping one of your breasts. You arch up into his touch, but put a hand on his chest to stop him.

“As much as I’m loving this,” You breathe out, your voice catching in your throat as Schlatt sinks his teeth into your neck, “We can’t— We can’t do this out here.”

Schlatt sits up then, smiling at you deviously. “Why don’t we go inside then?”

← 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 ✭ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 ➞

#jschlatt x reader #schlatt x reader #jschlatt x you #schlatt x you #mhibisl #best man!schlatt #the wedding fic

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kisses4reid · 1 year ago

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convenient pt.4 | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,

pt. 3 (you cannot read this without prior reading)

summary - you don’t need help with your biology anymore, you need help understanding the chemistry that seems to be growing between you and spencer.

warnings - jealousy, dickhead guy, unwanted flirting, awkward spencer, mentions of getting run over and pouring rain, studying.

genre - college!fem!reader x earlyseasons!spencer, fluff, angst if you squint, jealousy trope

a/n - i hope you all enjoy this part. comment or put in a req to be added to the convenience taglist, if you’ve already asked and i haven’t mentioned you please message orso i can make sure you’re on my list for the next part! love you all 🫶

sat in a plush office chair, in a cool room, in a comfortable dress shirt, surrounded by the people he trusted most, spencer couldn’t seem to live in the moment.

now that’s not something you would suggest to the man when he’s sat in front of multiple gruesome photos and case files, usually he would be 100% focused, no bullshit, no wandering thoughts.

but suddenly he felt light, airy, like these cases were just another day and he would be confident either way. it wasn’t completely untrue, but it was odd. everyone else seemed to notice.

“spencer, are you okay?” aaron hotchner startled the man with his stern and concerned voice, everyone looking up at spencer as a natural reaction. spencer looked around the table, noticing a growing grin between garcia and morgan.

hotch continued, “if you need to sit this one out, by all means.”

spencer shook his head and adjusted his posture, picking up a profile to skim over. there was a small giggle from garcia that brought the attention of aaron.

“what’s going on?”

“reid’s distracted because of a certain someone…” morgan replied, biting the end of his ballpoint pen. garcia slapped his shoulder.

“don’t tease him, meanies. keep going, hotch.”

they were right. he was distracted and felt far away most of the time. he wanted to go somewhere comfortable, like a convenience store with a pretty employee to talk to.

ricky, a handsome guy a few years older than you, was annoying logan with questions he could’ve answered himself. he tagged along with logan to your weekend study session at a small cafe not far from the college. the tall man was mostly agreeable, except for his apparent obsession with straight black coffee. he had had two cups of it already.

“so, y/n. what do you study? wait don’t tell me. nursing, because you seem to be healing my broken heart. psychology, because you’re making me crazy? or is it music, because your voice is like a song?” he leaned forward from across the table, disregarding the punch in the shoulder from logan. you only glared and returned to your expensive textbooks, leaving your drink to turn cold in its abandonment.

“don’t try anything, ricky. she’s basically taken.” she warned with a smirk. you lifted your gaze and rolled your eyes,

“you’re nonsensical. you’ve had too much coffee,” you stop filling out a questionnaire, “he’s not even that… he’s… ugh, i don’t know.” you place your pen down and stretch in the stiff wooden chair.

ricky laughs, clapping his hands together, “okay so you totally have a crush on a guy.”

“i do not.”

“i guess i’ll back off with my advances, unlessss, you truly don’t have a crush on your lover boy?”

“i do not- but still please back off, you’re gross.”

logan and ricky shared a glance and went back to their work silently. like they knew something you didn’t. your brain had turned stuffy, you need to get some air, you needed to get away from the truth.

garcia and morgan appeared so suddenly spencer thought turbulence had pushed them into their seats in front of him. his gaze snapped from the airplane wing to their two giddy faces and immediately knew what this conversation was going to be about. it only made him a little bit uncomfortable, these types of conversations. girls, flirting, being happy around someone he doesn’t work with, it was all unfamiliar. it seemed he chose the best people to talk about it to though; garcia had given him a little too much information about his crush from her unwanted snooping, and in the process morgan was also given all of this information.

“yes, okay, i told derek all about your girl but i couldn’t help it! he’s very persuasive!” garcia pouted. spencer thinned his lips and nodded, expecting a surge of conversation but he was only met with silence. morgan and garcia shared a glance.

“look, spencer. we’re only doing this to distract ourselves from the case we just closed, and to help you. if you don’t want help, if you think this… thing, will die out, then tell us. but, if you do want some adviceee…” morgan spoke smoothly, quiet enough to avoid attention from anyone else.

when spencer stayed silent, thinking about how he could never use you as a distraction, morgan whispered, “if nothings happening, you gotta light the match.”

you were standing on an uneven step ladder when the doorbell rang with 10 minutes to closing. you rolled your eyes, thinking you’d have to stay even later because of this customer. but your demise quickly turned to calmness, a little bit of panic, when spencer appeared in the entry way.

you nearly fell off the ladder, dropping the pile of juice boxes in your hands onto the floor. you cursed under your breath, watching from above as spencer picked them up for you.

“thank you.”

there was no need for formalities anymore, it was like you had known each other forever. spencer was silent again, it was becoming his thing.

you clear your throat, “i changed my medication.”

he glanced at you, brown eyes observing your tired expression. he came here unconsciously. he had already had some take out, he didn’t need any coffee, and his fruit bowl was stocked to the brim. spencer walked to this convenience store, the result of the action being evident through the pain in his feet.

the phone in your back pocket caught spencer’s attention, before he promptly looked elsewhere to avoid looking like a creep.

“good, im glad.”

are we really back to this? was one awkward conversation all we needed to go back to strangers?

you stepped down, “no more bruises.”

spencer placed his fingers delicately on his healed cheek, holding back a smile that you actually remembered that.

he asked, “who’s texting you so much?” without much thought. he didn’t think about how it sounded, like he was protective or worried, or what it implied. he didn’t even have your number, why should he be so upset?

“oh it’s just logan and ricky.” you replied simply, folding up the ladder and glancing at the clock placed above the register desk, “are you getting anything?”

because it didn’t seem weird if he came here for you instead of his groceries.

“like your brother, ricky?”

there was a small match burning in his stomach at the sound of those names. he felt like taking your phone and snooping until he reached the end, until his fingers hurt. spencer felt like asking intrusive questions, before he bit his lips to stop himself.

you made notice of his hands fiddling in his pant pockets, rolling your eyes. that made his tongue slip.

“how many guys do you know?”

you looked at him with surprise, walking over to the register, “you think i’m a whore?”

spencer’s heart skipped a beat, “no not at all, i just- i didn’t word that right.”

you shook your head and laughed quietly, starting to count the change sat on your swivel chair. something was off. the street was empty. “did you walk here, spencer?”

spencer’s breath hitched. oh god, were the only words circling in his brain. when you used his name, it was different. this was weird, he needed to get out of there.

you looked so effortless. he looked so anxious.

“yeah. i did.”

you nod, “okay, you can help me lock up then.” you pass him a set of keys for the window covers, and add, “you can walk me home, to make up for the other day.”

spencer nods with a small smile and begins locking up.

you lead the way out of the store and around the corner to a set of traffic lights. the streets are silent and misty, but neither of you felt the need to jay walk in an attempt to speed up this process of awkward walking.

spencer watches you from his advantage point. at how you bite the inside on your lips, how you look at the concrete pathway.

“what’s wrong?” you don’t react, instead push the pedestrian button and sigh.

“it’s monday, spencer. you were going to ‘retry’, ‘be better’? i’m not 100% sure what you meant by that, but you said that right after you told me you were going to ask me out so.”

spencer gulps and nods, hands going back to their safe space in his pockets. “yeah, i said that. but i’m going to have to delay that again. this isn’t really,” he motioned towards the weeds, litter, and flickering street lights with his eyes, and you nod with a smirk.

“romantic?”

“romantic.”

you smile at each other, and for a second he’s utterly entranced before a wave of wind and tires pass him. before a soft hand is hard on his upper arm. his eyes trailed the car, heart beating nearly as hard as it does when he looks at you.

“jesus, are you okay?” you asked worried, and when he nods with a simple stare accompanying it, you look away.

light a match.

you hand leaves him quicker than it got there.

in front of your apartment building, you notice logan’s window alight behind white curtains, and turn to face spencer.

“thank you for walking me home. i would invite you in but it’s 1:20am and i don’t really… know you.”

spencer furrows his eyebrows slightly, looking at you expectantly. your faces turns cold, slightly sorrowful.

“spencer, i don’t know you. i know things about you but i don’t actually know you.” you yawn, wiping a hand over your eyes, “maybe i’m just tired and overworked and…” logan’s voice echoes through your head as you look over the tall, tired and handsome man in front of you, “if you’re not going to ask me out first i’m going to ask you out. so, make a decision.”

it felt wrong being so stubborn and solid with him, but with school and family stress you truly didn’t need any unknown feelings to topple on as well.

spencer was taken aback. he didn’t know one couple where the girl asked out the guy, he didn’t know someone could like him that badly. he didn’t know what to say.

“goodnight, spencer. i’ll see you.”

you turned and pushed on the pull door, before pulling on it. heart thumping in your ears, you slowly held a hand over your mouth, impressed with yourself.

but you lied, you weren’t going to ask him out. you have no idea how to ask someone out.

the convenience store wasn’t so lonely tonight.

logan was arguing with ricky over his choice in deodorant almost louder than the terrible radio music playing throughout the store.

the beating of rain was creating a calming background to this chaos, as well as keeping customers away. all but one, of course.

spencer had an excuse, he was supposed to bring food for the team tomorrow, and this was the closest store. totally. but as he stood under the cover of the stores overhead steel, he felt another match being burnt in the bottom of his stomach.

a tall and toned man with bright blonde hair was leaning over your register and talking to you, making you smile and laugh. your arms were crossed, you were leaned away and you avoided eye contact, but spencer didn’t see any of these signs as the waves of jealousy drowned him.

spencer looked out onto the street. he had no right to feel that way, this was his own fault. he felt even weirder and out of place than he usually felt.

the doorbell rang and your fake smile turned real. logan watched from the toilet spray section and smirked when she recognised the purple-sweater adorned man. ricky stopped his flirting and turned to meet spencer’s eyes, they sized each other up. the blonde man smiled and looked back at your much happier face, “so this is lover boy?”

you smacked his arm hard, receiving a squeal in return. “what? no. ricky this is spencer, spencer this is ricky.”

spencer gulped and ignored the stranger and you. he went for the fruits section. ricky glanced at your confused face, “i might be a threat.”

“in your dreams.” you rolled your eyes and pushed his elbow off your desk. logan approached the counter with a basket full and pulled her hair back into a ponytail. you noticed ricky’s change in expression when looking at her and held back a smile.

“you didn’t get anything for me?” he asked, voice teasing. logan took out a block of mint chocolate and threw it at him, which he caught perfectly with a smirk on his face.

“what’s wrong with lover boy?”

you glare at her, deciding avoiding that nickname was out of the picture. your shoulders slump as you begin scanning her items while making sure spencer wasn’t in earshot. “i mentioned you two, and then he went weird.”

“i mean, if i liked a girl and she told me about two guys- sorry, two people with guy names- i’d be pretty jealous,” ricky inputted.

“is that all? some jealousy got to his head?” logan pressed.

you seriously doubted he would be jealous over that, he seemed smarter than that. he was smarter than that.

logan paid and left, literally dragging ricky behind her, as he waved and winked at you through the windows.

the store was eerily quiet, the only noise coming from the thunderstorm brewing outside. it felt uncanny and uncomfortable. you needed someone’s cologne to wade through or something.

turning while shaking your head, you grabbed out some posters taller than you and turned to have the life scared out of you.

“jesus! i thought i told you to walk louder.”

his groceries were perfectly in line to be scanned, a small smile appearing before promptly vanishing. spencer avoided your eyes, a beating all he could hear.

“he’s your…”

you sighed, disappointed spencer even thought that dumb blonde was someone to you, “acquaintance.” you finished his sentence. “i’ve known him for two days and he a flirtatious dick. everyone named ricky is a dick.”

he pulls out his slim wallet to hand you a $20 bill, fingers skimming each other. one glance.

spencer nods and nearly leaves before you stop him, “can you help me?”

spencer is on the top of the ladder outside, barely staying dry underneath the steel overhead cover with the top corners of a food poster in his hands. you tip toe to give him a piece of double sided tape. the laminated photos wave in the wind, spencer sticks his tongue out in concentration and you smile at the innocent act. leaning against the wall, quickly glancing inside to make sure nobody wanted to check out, you begin talking.

“thank you for doing this, i totally would’ve fallen and died if it weren’t for you. what can i do to repay you?”

spencer thought for a moment, looking down at you, “nothing. you don’t have to do anything. just keep talking.”

so you did, because you didn’t know if you’d see him again after tonight.

PART 5

taglist: @jeffswh0re @hypotheticallyspeakingwitch @trashmonstersara @wannabewolf @evysian @navs-bhat @mywellspringoflife @daphnesutton @smalls155 @amortencjja @anuncalledbridge @belsreid @redmurderbaby @tatilolz @criminalmindsandhouse @forensicuntology @nomajdetective @ilikw @screechingphantommaker @c-losur3 @v1ckycheesue @ackermans-angel @scarlettssub @fictionlurker @lovelyygirl8 @momooooca @random-kimmy @leabunny @cultish-corner @doigettokeepyou @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @hinataboke @wenttohogwarts @yaboohah @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @drewsandsebastianswife @hoeshissworld @flow33didontsmoke @bookworm124 @violetvsworld

#criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #cm #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid x yn

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fgojous · 12 days ago

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love wins all | chapter two ( satoru g. )

from childhood summers and petty high school banters, to the endless college lectures—med school and the chaos of residency, you've been through it all. you've built everything together. you're each other's home—everything. but what if your relationship breaks beyond repair? what if the one thing you couldn't save was each other? can your love still win it all?

neurosurgeon!gojo x trauma surgeon!reader

warnings. romance, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, hurt no comfort, fluff, medical au, established relationships, high school sweethearts, unresolved feelings, unresolved issues, grief, emotional repression, mutual pining, emotional trauma, childhood trauma, explicit sexual content | eighteen plus only!

word count. 5k

masterlist.

note. chapter two because my brain is working this weekend. lol

CHAPTER TWO: FAVORITE CRIME

─── MARCH, 2009 ───

You stared blankly at the papers scattered in front of you because none of it made sense anymore. Between studying geriatrics and pediatrics, you’ve got no space for the one you hated the most: neurology. It’s a wonder how Satoru loved this, well, maybe because he’s been around neurology ever since he was a kid. Both his parents are neurosurgeons, it’s been set in stone that he’s going to love neuro too, isn’t it?

“I’m actually going to fail this.” you say as soon as you hear the front door open, staring at the flashcards in your hands like you’re burning holes in it. “Wanna bet?”

Satoru chuckles, keys clattering on the table as he settles the coffees he bought on the counter. He sits beside you, knees bumping into yours. “You’re not going to fail.”

You pouted, staring at him with those glossy eyes, as if you’ve been stopping yourself from crying. “What if I did?”

“You’re not going to.” he repeats, getting the flashcards from you, he clears his throat. “Here. Motor function is preserved below the neurological level, at least half of the key muscles below have a muscle grade of greater than or equal to three?”

“ASIA Scale D.” you answered, “I know all that.”

Then he shows you a smug but proud grin, discarding the flashcards on the table and putting it face down. “Okay, well then, your patient had a complete lesion above T6, he has profuse sweating and is restless. Complains of pounding headache. His blood pressure is 210/110, what’s your diagnosis?”

You glare at him with the sudden clinical question—heart fluttering with the way he’s looking at you with those damn pretty eyes. He smiles, “Come on, love. You know this.”

You furrow your brows, racking your brain for the answer. “Uhm. Autonomic Dysreflexia?”

“Are you telling me or asking me?”

You scowl, slightly glaring at him for being the pretentious ass that he is, but hey, he’s your pretentious ass. He chuckles, raising his eyebrow, waiting for your answer. “It’s Autonomic Dysreflexia.”

“Yes!” he claps suddenly, causing you to jump a bit. My god, where does he get this kind of energy when the two of you have been studying for hours? “What do you do next?”

“Stabilize the blood pressure. Sit the patient in an upright position then loosen their clothing. Uhm…” you paused, “Look for the possible triggers and notify the medical team.”

“And then document everything.” he says, “See? You’re ready. Don’t put too much pressure on yourself. You got this, love. You always do.”

You smiled—staring at your boyfriend’s face, god, what would you do without him?

You’ve had a habit of always doubting yourself—putting yourself on a pedestal. You’re always overthinking things and somehow always convinced that you’re falling short. But Satoru’s always been your anchor. When your thoughts overwhelms you, he grounds you. With him—breathing is a much easier task, and everything doesn’t feel like it’s caving in.

“Something on my face?”

“Yes,” you moved closer and sat on his lap, you anchored your arm around his neck and before he could even speak, you pressed your lips into his. Kissing him slowly—deliberately, like you got all the time in your hands.

You feel him smile before pulling you closer, his hands palming your hips before deepening the kiss. Then you pulled away, “Me, I’m on your face.”

He laughs, tilting his head slightly as he stares at you like he’s got the universe in his arms.

“You’re distracting me, you know that right?” he says, tucking your hair behind your ear, his thumb swiping your cheek lightly.

“Hmm, but you love me anyway.” you mumble, leaning your forehead into his.

He hums, circling his arms around your waist. “Yeah, I really do.”

And just like that all your doubts dissipated into thin air, nothing mattered anymore. It didn’t matter that time moved too fast—it didn’t matter that you’re going to have a probably grueling clinical exam tomorrow—it didn’t matter anymore, because you’re with him.

Because with him, everything slowed down. Everything was easier, comfortable.

“Okay, now.” he says, prying your hair away from your shoulders. “Dermatomes.”

You groan in protest and he just laughs, he kisses your shoulder just above the acromioclavicular joint, “Answer?”

You giggled, the contact making you slightly shiver but you answered anyway. “C4.”

“That’s right.” his kisses went to your neck and down, just above your collarbone—his soft lips sucking on your skin, “Here?”

You hummed, grasping his hair in between your fingers “C3.”

“See, you’re doing good.”

—

Satoru leaned against the wall of the clinical exam hall rooms, hands shoved in the pocket of his hoodie. Waiting for that one door to open.

The clinical exam passed by in a blur for everyone, but for him, time moved agonizingly slow like he'd been waiting for hours. Of course, he’d done exceedingly well but he wasn’t thinking about that one bit.

Because all he was thinking about was you. Were you doing okay? Were you overthinking again?

His train of thoughts halted when the door opened—then, came, you—your hair in a slight haze, your kit slung carelessly on your shoulder.

He straightened his posture, trying to read the look on your face but relief washed over him when he saw a big smile etched on your face as soon as you saw him.

“Oh my god, oh my god.” you repeated endlessly, almost hopping into his direction, not hesitating to throw yourself into his arms. “I passed—not just passed, I aced it! Fuck, I didn’t think I’d make it.”

Satoru caught you without any hesitations, spinning you a bit before settling you down, “Of course you did. I told you so.”

“God, I almost blanked but then I remembered all that you said,” you smiled, “And you?”

He smirks, getting your bag from your shoulder, “Do you really have to ask?”

You roll your eyes jokingly—still with a smile on your face, “Right. Silly me, I just had to ask, huh?”

He laughed and slung his arm around your shoulder, “Come on. Suguru and Shoko are waiting for us downstairs.”

─── JULY, 2016 ───

You walked for what feels like an hour just to find your husband. It’s been two months since you were married but it still feels surreal saying that Satoru is your husband.

And there he was—your husband, sitting on the floor with his knees pressed on his chest, staring blankly at the wall, and your heart clutched at the sight. “Hey, stranger.”

He looked up, a faint smile on his face. You sat beside him, “You okay?”

From the outside, he looked calm, maybe even a little bit bored. That’s how he’s always been. But you know him, you’ve been with him for ten years, you mastered the slight furrow in between his brows—the subtle quiver in his lip, you know it all.

“Uh-huh.” he answered, “Just… playing by the surgery in my mind.”

“You’re spiraling.” you say softly, taking his hand and intertwining your fingers together.

He huffed out a breath, almost laughing. “I’m not.”

Well, you couldn’t blame him. If you’re in his position, you’d probably be worse than him right now. It’s his first solo surgery—well, not totally, because there’s an attending watching him, ready to step in. But he’ll be the primary.

Of course, Dr. Satoru Gojo, he’d show promising results just a month into the internship. You couldn’t be more proud but you couldn’t help but worry.

Satoru isn’t the type to show his feelings that well, he’d rather not worry you. Always showing you that he’s the strongest.

But the strong ones get to falter sometimes, right?

“You are.” you whispered, leaning your head on his shoulders, tilting your head a bit to look at him, “Maybe a little. But you got this, you always do.”

He turned to look at you, his cerulean eyes looking straight into yours and suddenly, this moment suspended in time. His heartbeat slowed down, all the storm inside his head died down.

You squeezed his hand, “You’re the best surgeon I know.”

“I love you.” he says, “I know I could do everything because you’re here.”

Before you could answer, the OR door swung open, “Gojo. Scrub in.”

You gave him a smile, patting his back. “I love you. You can do this.”

—

You squeezed yourself in the gallery, sitting beside Shoko and Suguru in the front row. “Really, you brought snacks?”

“Uh-huh.” Ieiri says, munching on the chips, “Want one?”

You just ignored her and looked at your husband below the operating room. There he was—standing tall, confidently. You can see it, this was made for him—and you couldn’t imagine him anywhere else.

Satoru Gojo was meant to be here, saving lives.

You flash him a smile when he looks up, his eyes immediately find you in the sea of interns, residents and attendings. And even though he’s wearing that mask, you know he’s giving you that smile—making your chest ache just a little because of how much love you feel for him.

─── APRIL, 2025 (PRESENT) ───

You open your eyes, your breath heaved as you look up at the glass, and there he was. The beeping of the machines slowly blurred into the background, the lights were suddenly not too bright. Somehow, everything felt a little bit easier. He’d always been like that—even though you’ve caused him pain, he still made things easier for you.

You could feel the tremble in your hands, the way your heart sits heavy on your chest.

You’re still looking at him, as if asking him to save you from this—in a way, he kind of did, by giving you that same smile nine years ago. That same smile saying that he’s there, that he’s always going to be.

Taking a deep breath, you looked down and laid your hand out, “Scalpel.”

—

“Satoru! Where are you—” Suguru didn’t have the chance to finish what he was saying when Satoru bumped into his shoulder, but he didn’t care.

Nothing mattered except you.

He didn’t care who was looking—who was watching, when he slammed his fist into your father’s—Chief of Surgery’s—face. Barely giving him a chance to look at him.

It’s like the whole hallway stopped, the nurses and the passersby watched nervously as the scene unfolds before them. How often do you see an attending punch another doctor, much less, his Chief?

“You knew!” Satoru shouted—his voice shaking in anger, “You fucking knew how this would affect her! You knew she wasn’t ready for this but you pushed her!”

Your father looked at him, unflinching. His face was slightly bruised in the part where Satoru had hit him. “She’s a surgeon, isn’t she? She made her choice.”

Satoru’s hands shook at his side, getting ready to hit him again but Suguru held his arm before he could even take another step forward. “Satoru, that’s enough.”

“You know what she’s been through,” his voice now low, still laced with anger and guilt—that he couldn’t protect you—from your father, from yourself. “You knew and you still forced her, you knew and you threw her into the corner. What kind of father are you?”

The Chief’s jaw tightened, but still he remained unmoved. He didn’t need to say anything for Satoru to see that he never really cared about you or what you felt. This bastard.

Suguru tugged at him, “Enough. Let’s go.”

Satoru’s whole body was shaking in anger but he let himself be dragged away. Because he doesn’t know what else he could do if he didn’t leave.

“Are you fucking stupid?” Suguru muttered when he pulled Satoru in a much secluded area in the hospital, “What are you doing?”

He doesn’t even know. Fuck, he knows this’ll hurt you. But when it comes to you, all the reasons came flying out the window.

What did he just do?

“Do you want to get suspended? You want to leave her alone here?”

“I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking, goddamn. I wasn’t thinking.” he leaned on the wall, closing his eyes with a little bit of pressure. He was still seething with rage, to think, with everything that happened—and what it has done to your marriage—especially, to you, you’d think your father wouldn’t put you in that position.

“Yeah, you weren’t thinking.” Suguru says a little calmly now, leaning on the wall beside him. “Just hope he won't hold this against you.”

He took a deep breath, looking down. “You know she filed for a divorce.”

“What? When?”

He laughs breathlessly—bitterly. The words seemed sharp against his tongue, “Three weeks ago.”

Suguru watched him carefully, “You didn’t tell me.”

“What’s the point?” his thumb hovers his wedding ring, “She’s still wearing her ring, that seems to me, she doesn’t really want to leave. And it’s not like I plan to let her go.”

—

“She just came out, I think ten minutes ago.” Nurse Tanaka says, pointing at the on-call room. “She’s in there.”

Satoru thanked her quietly and carefully opened the door, the moment he stepped foot inside, his heart sank. There you were, curled up to your side, the blanket hastily thrown on your body.

He quietly closes the door behind him. You looked so worn out—like you have been carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders, when you shouldn’t have—he should’ve been carrying your burdens with you.

But why won’t you let him?

He kneels down to your level, his fingers hovering over your face hesitantly before pushing your hair out of your face. You stirred, eyelids fluttering open, your voice hoarse from exhaustion and probably because of your crying. “Satoru?”

He smiled faintly, you could see the tenderness on his face. His thumb brushes over your cheeks, then he presses his lips on your forehead. “Go get some sleep. I’ll be in my lab.”

But you reached for him before he could even turn away. Your fingers grasp his wrist loosely, your voice almost a whisper. “Stay with me.”

For a moment he stopped, he could only stare at you like he couldn’t believe what you were saying. Without a word, he sat down on the edge of the cot, and you moved to give him space.

Carefully, he slipped beside you, your head resting on his arms as you closed your eyes. You squeezed yourself closer to him without any qualms. His hands softly tapping your back to lull you back to sleep then you whispered, “I saved her.”

“I know.” he answers, “You did good.”

“I know.” he chuckles at your response, resting his cheeks on your head. “She’s… she’s going to be okay. And I… I did that. I saved her and her…”

Just say it. Say the word.

Satoru pulled you closer, as if he could shield you from the memory that’s creeping in, from that pain that was trying to destroy you over and over again. “You did, you gave her another chance.”

You squeeze your eyes shut when tears fall from the side of your eyes—here it is again, the feeling that you were trying to escape from. This feeling that you’re saving Satoru from.

God, what are you doing? Why are you asking him to do this again? Why are you letting him in again?

You tried to blink the tears away but it keeps on spilling, one after another. He pulls back just enough to see your face, his hands cradling your face gently, his thumb swiping your tears away. His heart felt like it snapped into two, he hated seeing you like this. And he hated it more that he couldn’t do anything to keep you from hurting.

And then you said it, again. “Just sign the papers. And let’s stop this—”

“Are you hearing yourself?” you couldn’t hear the anger from his voice, but you recognize the hurt. You recognize the way he’s breaking and it was because of you, again.

You tried to look away but he held your face, “I’m so tired of feeling this way. I’m so tired of bringing you down with me—”

“You aren’t! It hurt me as much as it hurt you, and you think signing a piece of paper erases everything?” he pauses, “But I could do it, YN. I can handle it. Put everything on me. But losing you would break me. I couldn’t handle that.”

He pulled away from you, and he sat up. He presses his face against his palm—frustrations sinks in, “I don’t want out, YN. I would never want that. You could push me away—you could ignore me, but I’m still here. I’m never going to leave.”

You sat beside him, wiping your tears. You were about to open your mouth when you saw his hand, you reached for it and Satoru flinched, almost forgetting that there is evidence of his outburst for you to see. “What happened?”

He tried to pull it away but you didn’t budge, your thumb swiftly brushing on top of his red knuckles. “What did you do, Satoru?”

“It’s nothing.” he mutters, you shake your head, your throat tightens as your chest aches unbearably—it’s never nothing, you probably know what he had done, you just couldn’t fathom that he’d done that for you.

That’s how he is. He loves you so deeply that it consumes him—that he’s willing to lose it all just for you and you don’t know if you deserved that.

─── MARCH, 2010 ───

“Seriously?” you say, picking up the clothes from the floor and shooting them right to the laundry basket, “Seriously, Satoru? Didn’t you listen?”

“What?” his voice was low, you looked at him and something boiled inside you—he was just there on the couch, lying with his arm covering his eyes—you slammed the basket on the floor a little harder than you intended to but you didn’t care. “What the fuck is your problem?”

“Pick up your clothes! Are you fucking blind? Can’t you see the basket? Do I have to spell everything out for you? God! And the dishes too! And the trash! I told you to take the trash—”

“I get it!” he says, irritation laced in his voice. “I said I’ll do it later.”

You scoffed, “You said that yesterday. Nevermind, I’ll do it myself.”

You hear Satoru exhaling loudly and then you stop—Satoru seemed to catch on so he lifted his head a bit, peeking in your direction,, “Oh. I’m sorry, am I irritating you?”

“Fuck you.” you say before marching into the bedroom, slamming the door behind you. And if he didn’t have a headache pounding into his head right now, he’ll follow you.

Everything’s just a lot. For the two of you—he gets it, why you’re acting that way right now—both of you are tired. Nonstop exams and review for board exams, then endless clinical rotations.

He kept on thinking if this physical therapy internship is hard enough—how about med school? And the actual internship for when you become doctors? Would you two keep on fighting like this?

He doesn’t want to, so despite his headache—he stands up and walks to your shared bedroom, but you open the door before he does. Then he sees you, with a backpack slung over your shoulder.

“I’ll stay with Ieiri for a few days. I can’t do this, Satoru. I can’t keep on fighting—”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes!” you answer, picking up your scattered notes on the dining table, “Look, I don’t want to say some things that’ll hurt you. It’s better if we just take a break. Just for a few days. This is too much for me.”

He couldn’t move. He couldn’t speak. He just watched you as you picked your things up—it’s okay, you’re just taking a breather. You aren’t leaving him, you’re not breaking up… right?

Before you could walk out the door, he called your name. “You’re not… are you? We’re just taking a break?”

“Yeah.” you say.

You were tired—of everything, besides him. You wouldn’t know what to do if you said some things that could hurt him, you could never do that to him. So, you’re distancing yourself—to clear your head.

“I could never leave you, Satoru.” you reassure him, voice cracking despite trying to hold it together. “I’m always yours. We just need a break from each other.”

He stared at your face like this is going to be the last time he’ll see you. The silence filled the air, then he just nodded. Barely.

You mustered all your strength and turned away, because if you didn’t you might’ve stayed—and you both know, you needed this.

The door closed softly behind you and Satoru sank back into the couch, running his fingers through his hair as the suffocating silence envelops him.

—

It was two days later. You still aren’t coming home. He sees you on the campus, you did the academic rotations for the second year class together yesterday but you’re barely talking.

He couldn’t take this. He’ll probably see you right now for your rotation. He’s already convinced himself to talk to you because this break is driving him insane.

He was about to head inside when his phone buzzed. He looked at the phone—it was his mother. What is she calling about now?

“Mom? I’m about to head to—”

“Satoru, honey.” his mother’s voice just didn’t sit right with him. Why is this unsettling him? His heart pounds in his chest gradually, he peeks at the window inside the room, and you weren’t there. Shoko and Suguru were there but you weren’t. “Satoru.”

“I’m here. What’s wrong?” he asked, voice slightly quivering. “Did something happen?”

“It’s YN’s mom. She passed this morning. Are you with her?”

And suddenly, the skies fell on him. He couldn’t think straight—he couldn’t think of anything else but you. “She… what? I’m… I’ll look for her.”

He didn’t wait for his mother to speak and then he walked into the room, “Ieiri.”

Shoko looks up at him, “Hey. YN said she’s not going to attend today, is something wrong? You haven’t made up ye—”

“Where is she?”

“She said she’s going home—hey, where are you going?!” Shoko shouts, she and Suguru just looked at each other with puzzled looks on their faces when Satoru sprinted out of the room, nearly bumping into the students along the way but he didn’t care.

He needed to get to you.

The door was unlocked when he got there. He rushed inside and he saw you on the couch, staring at the turned off TV. Your bag’s on the floor—you’re still wearing your light blue scrubs, your hair disheveled.

You looked so empty—devoid of emotions.

“I’m here, love.” he says softly, walking towards you, “I’m so sorry.”

The couch sank beside you, you could feel his arms circling around you and that’s when you felt all of it—you sobbed uncontrollably, like you’ve been holding on to it for a long time.

It just hit you all at once. The endless exams, rotations, your break from Satoru and your mother. You don’t even know you’re crying like this.

You and your mother… It was complicated. It’s not like she loved you so much. It’s not like she held you like this when you cried.

No.

She taught you to be quiet. To be strong—without ever asking for help, that was your mother. The brilliant, cold, surgeon who taught you that you had to work hard for everything—even for her love and praise.

The woman who raised you in a perfectly clean house, shiny floors. In a household where your achievements mattered the most—where certificates hung on the walls instead of photographs.

And now, she’s gone.

How do you mourn someone who never really saw you?

How do you mourn someone who just… resented you?

Then it hit you.

“Why aren’t you at rotations?” you pulled away from him, “You know you can’t miss that. You’ll get demerits, Satoru.”

You see the furrow in his brows, “I don’t care about that shit, YN. You need me here. Besides I can make up for that—”

“You don’t know that!” you stood up, voice a bit high. “You can’t miss rotations for me, Satoru! You’ll lose everything you’ve worked for!”

“And I worked hard for us too!” he fired back, frustration seeping into his voice, “Do you think I care more about a damn rotation than you? You’re more important to me, YN!”

No. He can’t do this. He can’t keep on throwing away important things for you. You don’t deserve him like that. He’d work hard for everything—you can’t just watch him throw that away for someone like… you.

You don’t want him to resent you. Not him.

“You have to think about your dreams, Satoru! You couldn’t do that! This rotation is important and you know it! You can’t keep choosing me over your future! You’ll just…”

“What?” he snapped back, “Why can’t I? You are my dream! None of this will make sense when you’re not here, do you get me?! Why can’t you just let me?”

“Because I love you!” your voice cracked, tears falling once again, “You can’t do this. I can’t watch you fall apart because of me, Satoru.”

For a moment, you both stayed silent. Then you said the words that you don’t know if you’ll regret.

“Let’s just… break up.”

Satoru froze.

He’s great at a lot of things—ask him about neurology? Go ahead, he’s always got something to say. He always has the answers… but this? For you?

He’s got none.

He had no idea how to answer this.

“No.” he stepped forward, his hands reaching out for you, “You’re just… upset. Let’s just cool down.”

“Satoru. I love you so much that it’s suffocating me.” Every word that’s coming out of your mouth was like a knife to his chest. Your tears falling endlessly, “And I’m so scared. So scared that if I just let you choose me over and over again, you’ll lose yourself. And you’ll hate me.”

You can’t watch him lose his spark in your shadows. He’s meant to shine brightly.

“I can’t hate you.” he whispers, “I could never…”

“You don’t know that.”

─── APRIL, 2010 ───

Shoko | 4:55 PM

I’ll just finish some of this stuff here in the lab. Wait for me at the cafe.

You’ve been staring at Ieiri’s text for about five minutes now, contemplating whether to just go to the lab—and risk seeing him there or just wait for Shoko at the cafe.

It has been almost a month since you two broke up. You barely see him at campus because you’ve been rotating at different hospitals. Well, you see him every Saturday for your boards review class.

And that was it.

You’ve been crashing at Ieiri’s place because you didn’t want to go back to your father’s house. If your mother was unbearable, your father is… much more complicated.

The universe didn’t really give you a chance, huh?

So far, it has been… really shit. Everything was shit. That’s all the word you have for it. You didn’t know how to function without Satoru—maybe, you could, a little.

But everyday, you were hoping for it to get better—they say it gets better but it doesn’t. Everyday you wake up with a heavier heart than yesterday, if that was possible. How do you get over someone you’ve been with for four years—no, scratch that, for twelve years?

You’ve known Satoru since you were eight—he’s the kid who annoys you whenever your mother brings you to the hospital—he’s the kid who you see at your family functions even though he isn’t family.

He made your high school life bearable. He was your best friend.

How do you get over that?

You’ve basically spent your whole life with him and now, you suddenly don’t? You just stop?

My god, you were stupid. Sorry, are. Was this a mistake? Satoru loves you. He loves you without a doubt, and you just… throw that away? What? For something that you’re not sure is going to happen?

Do you not have faith in him? Is the years that you’ve been together not enough to show you that he’s here… even if you’re broken, as you say.

But what if he moved on? What if he… doesn’t want to take you back anymore?

Your chest was heavy with every step that you take to the coffee shop. Your mind was spiraling so fast that you didn't notice that you’re already in front of the shop. You took a deep breath, clutching on the books in your arms.

You stepped inside, searching for a table for you and Ieiri. You scan your eyes across the room and then… you see him.

Fucking hell.

He looked like he hadn't slept for a year. His hair was a mess, his white hoodie slightly askew. He lifted his head and his eyes landed on you.

You bite your lip and you look away, your grasp on the books tighten. You immediately went out the shop because you don’t know how else to—

“YN!”

You stop. God, you missed that voice.

You don’t move, you don’t turn but even so, he was in front of you. His mouth slightly ajar, like he wanted to say something but he couldn’t.

“You look like shit.” you say, and that made him laugh—one for the first time in almost a month.

“Yeah. You too.” you give him a small smile.

You just stared at each other for a moment. You both probably looked so stupid, standing in front of the coffee shop, not saying anything—just looking.

Longing.

“I thought it would hurt less if I left.”

“But it didn't.” he answered, “Can we please just… stop this madness?”

You didn’t answer, instead your books clattered to the floor, you stood on your tiptoes and reached for the hood of his hoodie on each side and pulled on it to make him lean closer, pressing your lips into his.

And for almost a month—you could finally breathe again.

His hand instantly finds its way to your waist, pulling you close to deepen the kiss. You both pulled away with a smile on your faces, “We’re so stupid.”

“Yeah, you guys are.” you both looked at Suguru, and there’s Shoko beside him.

A frown formed on your forehead when you realized what your friends just did. “Did you guys set us up?”

Shoko rolled her eyes. “Duh.”

Well, they had to do something. You were hopeless without each other. (And Suguru’s tired of hearing Satoru bitch about you.)

#gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #jjk x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x you #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #jujutsu kaisen angst #gojo angst #gojo satoru angst #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru smut #gojo smut #jjk angst #jjk smut #jjk fluff #gojo satoru

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megalony · 1 year ago

Text

All These Kids

This is my newest Eddie Diaz imagine, based on two requests I've merged together, it's rather long but very fluffy. I hope you will all like it, let me know what you think.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @gillybear17 @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29

Eddie Diaz Masterlist

Summary: Eddie and (Y/n) have a soccer team of kids together, who they introduce to the 118 team.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Dad- hang on a second." Tilting her head down to the left, (Y/n) looked down at her daughter with raised brows and a smile. She pressed her hips up into the counter and waited patiently for Evie to tell her what she wanted.

But the three-year-old just held her hands up towards the phone with grabbing fingers and a sweet, toothy grin. She knew who was on the phone.

"I think I'm gonna have to pass you over. Go talk to grandad then." She leaned over and held her phone out towards Evie who clapped before she took the phone. The confusion was clear on Evie's face. She was so used to talking to her grandparents over Facetime, she wasn't used to simple phone calls anymore.

But she quickly worked it out and pressed the phone to her ear with a wide grin as she turned around. "Grandad!" Evie toddled out of the kitchen, taking (Y/n)'s phone along with her to where Chris, Finn and Nate were playing a game in the living room.

(Y/n) smiled to herself and put the kettle on to make a drink. At least she had talked to her dad for a while this time rather than a few seconds before the kids came and took the phone from her. Every time he was on the phone, all four kids seemed to sense it and take the phone to talk to him.

They were even worse if Eddie was on shift, especially an evening shift. If he missed bedtime, (Y/n) usually had to Facetime him so he could say goodnight to the kids.

Thankfully, (Y/n)'s job meant she could work from home and only had to visit the office once or twice a fortnight. She could work while the kids were at school and always be there to pick them up or stay home with them if they were sick and couldn't go to school.

So it didn't matter if Eddie wanted to do a mixture of day and night shifts or if he did a long stretch of double shifts. (Y/n) was usually able to look after the kids and Eddie did a lot of double shifts so he got a lot of bulk time off at home with his family.

Leaning forwards, (Y/n) folded her arms on the counter and arched her lower back out while she waited for the kettle. But just as it clicked, a grin wormed its way back onto her lips when she felt a familiar set of arms curve around her waist.

She straightened up and moved forwards until her hips and abdomen were pressed into the counter and she felt Eddie press up behind her. His chest moulded around hers like a blanket and his hands gave her hips a squeeze while he tilted his head down. His lips attached to her neck and made a shiver course down (Y/n)'s spine and tingle down to her arms.

"Hi babe," She reached her hand down to give Eddie's wrist a squeeze while she leaned her head against his.

"You got something you need to tell me?" Eddie's words were soft and low as they vibrated through (Y/n)'s neck.

Those words made her heart race and she nuzzled her nose into his hair, trying to rack her brain to think what he meant by that. His words weren't daring or annoyed, they were quite the opposite which made (Y/n) even more dazed. She couldn't think what he was referring to.

She didn't have anything to tell him, did she? Nothing significant had happened. She hadn't told Chris, Finn or the twins anything or any secret surprise for Eddie that they could have let loose.

"I… I don't think so. Why, should I?"

When Eddie bit down on her neck, (Y/n) pressed her lips together so she didn't make a sound. But she knew he felt the deep breath she took, especially when he dragged his tongue across the mark he'd just created.

She stayed still while Eddie curved his left arm around her waist, tugging her back as if the tiny membrane of space between them was far too much. His chest tensed up against her back and his face stayed tucked into her neck with his nose brushing across the side of her jaw like a feather.

(Y/n) almost closed her eyes until she felt Eddie's right arm move over her hip and he placed something down on the counter in front of her.

"Are we expecting a new arrival?"

Eddie dragged his lips up (Y/n)'s neck, across her jaw and around until he was hovering over her lips. He pecked her lips once, then twice, then again until (Y/n) almost forgot what he'd even asked her.

She kissed him again, cupping the side of his face with her right hand before Eddie finally pulled back and looked down at the counter.

He'd been a little more than surprised when he looked in the bathroom cabinet and found a pregnancy test which he knew hadn't been there last week. He could still remember each of the other three times she'd told him she was pregnant.

Eddie had been about to head back to the army for another tour when (Y/n) gave him a baby grow for his birthday and said they were expecting Chris. And when Chris was four, he gave Eddie a small box for father's day with a pair of baby booties in and a positive test. He remembered the way he'd almost collapsed at their first scan when they found out they were having two babies, not just one.

Eddie had been more than in love with the way (Y/n) looked and changed when she was pregnant.

The last time (Y/n) was pregnant Eddie had figured it out before she told him. He started to notice the signs, she had been really sick during the first few months when they were expecting Evie. And it had been uplifting to finally have a girl that time after three boys.

He leaned back a little so (Y/n) could turn around his arms so she was facing him. When her hands moved to cup his face and smooth across his jaw, Eddie glided his hands down from her hips to grab the back of her thighs. He lifted her up and slid her back onto the counter, moving so he was stood between her legs that instantly wrapped around his waist and squeezed him tight.

"Mi amor?"

"I think so, I haven't had chance to take the test yet." (Y/n) looped her arms around the back of his neck and leaned her forehead against his.

(Y/n) didn't like to tell Eddie if she thought she was pregnant, just in case it turned out she wasn't. She thought that if she was, she would surprise him again like she did with Chris and then the twins. But she hadn't found the time to take the test yet, it had been sitting in the back of the bathroom cupboard while (Y/n) tried to get some time and courage to do it.

"You know you've kind of ruined the surprise if I am." She knew she should have done it as soon as she bought the test. (Y/n) didn't like just coming out with it or having Eddie work it out like he did with Evie, she wanted to tell him. She wanted to try and make it a surprise and something special.

"We don't technically know yet, so go take the test and surprise me."

He leaned his temple against hers as his hands wormed beneath her shirt and splayed out across her back.

They hadn't exactly talked about having more kids. They always said they wanted kids together. Finding out about Chris was the reason they got married so quickly and Eddie didn't do anymore tours in the army after Chris was born. He couldn't bear to be separated from his family anymore.

Having twins had been a big surprise but they had coped amazingly well with double trouble and looking after Chris. And Evie had been a very welcomed gift and (Y/n) knew Eddie had been ecstatic about finally having a little girl to spoil.

"Eager?" (Y/n) whispered against his lips as she tightened her legs around his hips and pulled him closer until his groin bumped into hers.

"Yeah. I miss you being pregnant, and how small Evie was when she was born." Eddie wasn't ashamed to admit it. He was always attached to (Y/n) at the hip when she was pregnant. And he missed having a baby in his arms. Evie had been two months early and she had been so tiny that she didn't even fit the length of Eddie's arm.

He loved having his tiny little girl wrapped up in his arms or snuggled down on his chest. He used to call her his little doll because of how little she cried and how tiny and porcelean she looked.

When his lips curved up into a smile, (Y/n) closed the gap between them and smothered his lips with hers.

(Y/n)'s fingers reached up to tangle in the short hairs at the back of his neck and when she gave a sharp tug, she swallowed up the groan Eddie let out. She could feel herself smiling against his lips and she used her legs to pull him closer. Sliding herself onto the edge of the counter so she was almost sitting on Eddie's hips.

"What if it's negative?" Her lips barely parted from his to ask what was playing on the back of her mind.

(Y/n) had been thinking and thinking about this and built herself up with the thought that she probably was pregnant. If the test was negative (Y/n) knew her mood was going to deflate and Eddie's would too which was why she didn't want to tell him unless she was certain.

"Then I can help with that," His hands slid down from under her shirt and in one quick swoop, he held her by the thighs again and pulled her onto his torso. "We can always try for a baby this time, you know."

The twins had been somewhat planned and Evie was a complete surprise, but there was nothing stopping them from planning to have a baby this time if the test was negative.

"Really?"

"Hm. I don't think we'll have to try too hard, either."

Pulling back, (Y/n) trailed her lips down to Eddie's jaw when he turned around. But she quickly pulled away and looked over her shoulder when Eddie stopped walking. Evie was stood in front of him in the doorway to the kitchen, holding the phone up to them.

(Y/n) bit down on her lip and tilted her head forward, burrowing her face back into the crook of Eddie's neck when she realised Chris had showed her how to switch the call to Facetime. Her dad was on the phone and he could see her clinging to Eddie like a baby monkey.

"Am I unterrupting?" Her dad narrowed his eyes and tilted his head back when Evie turned the phone to face her parents.

She, Chris and the twins had all been showing their grandad the new video game Chris was playing. Which Chris knew Eddie had secretly played at night and unlocked at least seven new levels that Chris was now re-doing.

"Nope, what can we do for you?" Eddie leaned forward and took (Y/n)'s phone from their daughter. "Thank you baby," He whispered and pecked Evie's temple while he juggled to keep (Y/n) on his hips with one arm. He didn't want her to get down, he was perfectly happy carrying her around for a while. Eddie wanted her as close as possible and their families were accustomed to the amount of PDA the couple showed, this was nothing new.

"I just wanted to double check if the kids are staying over this weekend?"

"You can have them at the weekend if you want them." (Y/n) nudged her forehead against Eddie's neck and leaned her cheek against his collar bone so she could look at her dad on the phone. Her eyes drifted back up to look at Eddie though, giving him a warning look when he hitched his hand up from her thigh to hold her bum instead.

Her parents had taken to having all the kids almost every weekend while Eddie was at work. It gave (Y/n) and Eddie some time alone when he was back from work since his weekends off were usually spent down at the beach or the amusements with the kids.

And usually one weekend a month, (Y/n) and Eddie would take the kids down to see Eddie's parents and sisters back in Texas if they could.

"Perfect. Alright, I'll let you all go and see you at the weekend."

(Y/n) tightened her arms around Eddie's neck and held her breath when he flopped down on the armchair and she thudded down onto his lap. She could see Chris trying to show Nate how to play the new video game, but Nate was usually more content to watch rather than play. Finn was already settled and knew what he was doing in the game.

And Evie usually liked to try and play the games, especially when Eddie was playing as she liked to copy him.

"Where'd you think you're going?" Eddie murmured, grazing his teeth along the side of (Y/n)'s neck when her hands moved to his shoulders and she tried to get up.

"I thought you wanted me to find out." She waved her hand towards the kitchen where he'd left the test and a smile graced her lips when he nodded. She could see him fighting off a smile but he couldn't help it.

Eddie let go of her without a fuss and listened to the sound of her walking back into the kitchen. But he tilted his head back, supressing a groan when Evie grabbed his knees and started to clamber up onto his lap too.

She scrambled over his legs, accidentally kicked him and wriggled until she could flop onto the middle of his chest and sprawl out across him. She grinned to herself and draped her arms over Eddie's chest and snuggled into his neck until he shivered.

"Hi baby girl," He murmured softly, tilting his head down to kiss the top of her head while he smoothed his hand up and down her back.

He let his eyes drift over to his boys. Chris and Nate were sat next to each other on the sofa and Finn was on the floor leaning up against Chris's legs as they played their new video game. Eddie liked that game. He was rather good at all the combat missions and he could never help himself when Chris left the games switched on and Eddie couldn't sleep.

"Finn, where are your glasses?" Eddie propped his head up on his left hand while his right hand continued to smooth up and down Evie's back. It was hard to keep his eyes open and focused on his boys when he was slouched down in the chair and this was how he always laid to get Evie to take a nap and go to sleep.

But Eddie managed to keep his gaze focused on Finn, watching the seven year old glance up at him with a sheepish look and tightly pursed lips.

"Bedroom." He whispered back but he began to pout when Eddie clicked his fingers and pointed to the hall.

"Go put them on please."

"But-"

"If you don't wear them, you don't play the game. Go put them on."

Finn passed the control up to Nate who shuffled closer to Chris, he wasn't good at video games and was more content to watch than to play.

At their last eye test, Nate had perfect vision whereas Finn was starting to struggle like Chris, but he didn't like glasses. Something about the feel of them upset him.

(Y/n) had been back to the opticians twice to get new pairs when Finn ripped them off and broke the arm and then he'd tossed them and popped the lens out. They had to keep persevering with him because his eyesight wasn't going to get any better without his glasses. They were trying to get him to wear them when he was concentrating such as playing games or when he was reading.

He didn't have to wear them early in the morning or late into the night or if he was building with his Lego. Eddie hoped they'd get him wearing them all the time soon, and with Chris wearing glasses, it was prompting and showing Finn he needed his too.

"Are you both having a nap?" (Y/n) commented when Eddie propped his feet up on the coffee table and tilted his head back. She watched him smile while he closed his eyes, and Evie already had her eyes closed and her body snuggled under Eddie's arm like it was a blanket.

"We're tired." He didn't bother to open his eyes, but he moved his right arm out instinctively and waited for (Y/n) to sit back down on his lap. She wriggled to get comfy and make sure she wasn't leaning on Evie before she slumped her head into the crook of Eddie's neck and pecked his cheek. "So?"

He cracked one eye open and tilted his head to look down at her, but (Y/n) kept her face buried against Eddie's neck and continued to pepper kisses up and down his skin.

"You can officially dig my maternity clothes out again."

***

"Where's dad?"

(Y/n) turned to the left and looked over at Chris with a smile. She loved the way his eyes danced around the station in wonder. He had been wanting to come down for a while now and see where Eddie worked, but they had never found the right time.

She knew Eddie was trying to make friends here and get along with the team before he introduced them to his family. And the kids were a handful, (Y/n) was always too nervous to bring any of them down here in case they ran round and caused a scene or got in the way.

Eddie's job was demanding and hectic, the last thing they needed was kids running ramped and causing chaos. And (Y/n) would never want to disrupt Eddie at work or get him in trouble for bringing the kids down. She didn't know the rules here, if family were allowed to come by unannounced or not.

"He should be here somewhere. I hope."

When Evie wriggled in her arms, (Y/n) set the toddler down to her feet but kept hold of her hand so she stayed close.

She had Chris next to her on her left, Evie now between her legs and the twins near Chris taking in their new surroundings.

"Hi, can I help you?"

A shiver bolted down (Y/n)'s spine and she tried to smile politely when her eyes landed on an older man. He had a kind smile and his eyes were soft and warm as he looked across the kids before he looked over at (Y/n). He stood in front of them, a smile still gracing his face and both hands on his hips. He had an authoritive aura about him and when (Y/n) saw Nash written on his shirt, she knew he was the captain Eddie was always talking about.

"I was wondering if-" (Y/n) broke off when Evie suddenly let go of her hand and tore off into a sprint.

Her little arms stretched out in front of her and she squealed, kicking up dust behind her from how fast she bolted while (Y/n) was distracted. "It's daddy!"

(Y/n) sucked in a deep breath and bit down on her lip when she looked at who Evie had set her sights on. That wasn't Eddie. The hair was too light and short on top. The shoulders were too square and set high. The circular tattoo on his forearm was on the wrong arm for it to be her husband.

"No Evie that's not- I'm so sorry." She looked back over at the Captain, apologies clear in her eyes and written across her face as she turned to her boys. "Stay there."

She hitched her bag higher up her shoulder and took off in a sprint after her daughter who squealed again and caught the attention of whoever it was she had her sights set on. Her steps faltered and her smile deflated instantly when the man turned around and Evie realised it wasn't Eddie.

"Hey cutie, where'd you come from?" Evan grinned from ear to ear and crouched down in front of the toddler who looked like she wanted to reach out for him but suddenly didn't dare.

"It's not daddy," Evie whispered and looked over her shoulder up at her mum but when she looked back at Evan, she managed a cheeky smile that made his heart jump.

"No, it's not sweetie."

"I'm Buck… does your daddy work here?" When Evie nodded, Evan kindly held his arms out to her. "We've got some brownies upstairs, do you want one?" He looked up at (Y/n) and when she nodded, Evan picked Evie up and sat her down on his hip.

"I'll be one minute, you stay with Buck, okay?" (Y/n) kissed Evie's cheek and let Buck take her upstairs. He was the one Eddie kept talking about, the person he was partnered up with a lot who he really got along with. She knew he would be safe and fine to look after Evie for a little while.

Once he began his ascent up the stairs, (Y/n) turned and headed back near the fire truck to see what the boys were doing.

A fond smile took over her face when she saw Bobby with Chris. He was stood beneath the fire pole, Chris hoisted up in his arms to help him slide down the pole as if he were one of the team.

She got out her phone and took a quick photo before she took another step closer and looked around.

"Where are the twins?" Her question was directed more at Chris than at Bobby and she glanced around, feeling her heart pick up pace when she couldn't see the boys anywhere.

"I believe they wandered upstairs, they wanted to see the pole properly." Bobby set Chris down to his feet and smiled across at (Y/n) as he pointed upwards. He had given the boys the okay to head upstairs and come down the pole from the top as long as they were careful and he said he would wait down here for them. But he figured they got sidetracked as they hadn't come down yet.

"I'm really sorry-"

(Y/n) could feel her panic bubbling up inside of her as she moved her hand from her hip to rub across her forehead. The boys were as good as gold until they were about to make first impressions. Then they would run for their lives and go off wandering even when (Y/n) told them to stay put. But if Bobby had told them it was okay, (Y/n) couldn't really blame them.

"Don't be, families are welcome here, you know. They're fine to wander around and take a look. Who are you here to see, by the way?"

"Dad works here." Chris tilted his head back and grinned up at Bobby before he reached across and took (Y/n)'s hand.

"Oh, who's your dad?"

"Eddie." (Y/n)'s soft voice matched the melting look in her eyes and she couldn't help how she smirked when Bobby rose his brows and let out a quiet 'huh'. Clearly they didn't have Eddie pegged as a family man.

When Bobby uttered a soft "He's upstairs," (Y/n) nodded and let Chris guide her over towards the stairs.

"Oh, you found one too, huh?" Glancing around the kitchen, Hen smiled over at Evan when he climbed up the stairs with a little girl in his arms. She had just found two boys looking at the fire pole. Nobody told them they would be expecting guests today. They weren't told of friends or family coming down, not that it was an issue. But Hen was surprised. That made three kids so far that they had come across like an Easter egg hunt.

A tender smile flooded Evan's face when he saw the two boys who sat down at the table with Hen. Evan nodded proudly and bounced the little girl on his hip, aiming for the fridge until she squealed and stopped him dead in his tracks.

Eddie ducked his head down to miss a low-hanging beam but he hurried past the pool table when he suddenly heard Evie's voice.

What was she doing here?

"Hey boys," When he reached the dining table, Eddie leaned over and ruffled the twins hair and kissed the top of their heads before he headed over to Evan. "Hey baby. I see you found my kids." His grin made his eyes crease and he held his arms out when Evie wriggled against Evan to get over to him.

"Daddy!"

Eddie lifted her up and kissed her cheek before he settled her down on his chest and nuzzled his nose against hers to make her squirm.

"They're your kids?" Hen looked between the boys and the girl in Eddie's arms. He never mentioned having a family. He never even said if he was married or not. All they seemed to wangle out of Eddie was that he clearly went home to someone when he left shift. He was always happy to be here but also eager to leave.

He didn't come out for drinks that often after a shift either and he checked his phone a lot, but then again so did Evan and he didn't have a family waiting at home for him.

"You have three kids, and you never said anything?" Evan reached his hand out and leaned against the kitchen counter, crossing one leg over the other.

Why didn't he tell them? Why wouldn't he say he had kids or bring them down to the station sooner? He had seen Hen bring Denny and Bobby brought May and Harry down all the time. They all brought their kids and partners down to see the team and get to know the station and what they did here.

"Wow, you have three kids?" Ravi wandered over from the sofa where he had been watching tv. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and looked between the kids as he leaned back against the balcony rail with a smile. But as all eyes looked at Eddie, they watched a dangerous smile overtake his face and he shook his head.

His eyes locked on the stairs and Eddie watched Bobby walk up with the rest of his family and his dangerous smile broadened.

"Try five." Eddie scratched his jaw and pointed across at (Y/n) and Chris before he reached his arm out and let Chris barrel into his side and wrap around him like a vine.

When Chris moved to sit down opposite Hen and the twins, Eddie curled his arm around (Y/n) instead and reeled her into his side while Evie stayed curled up in his other arm. He smoothed his thumb up and down her hip and leaned his forehead against hers as (Y/n) pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek.

"Where's number five?" Evan did a quick sweep around to look for the fifth kid but he couldn't find one. He could see three boys and one cute little girl.

"In production." Eddie leaned back and curved his hand a little tighter around (Y/n)'s waist so his fingers could skim across her bump that Evan clearly failed to notice. They only had four months to go before they could meet baby number five, possibly less than that if their next child decided to come early like Evie had.

"Are you trying to make your own football team with all these kids?" Ravi glanced his eyes around the annex before he pushed off the balcony and moved towards the kitchen. If he was aiming for his own team, Eddie was roughly halfway there. Especially with a handful of boys and only one girl so far.

"Something like that."

Tilting her head to the side, (Y/n) leaned her cheek on Eddie's shoulder and smiled when she felt his lips against the top of her head. Her arms moved to wrap around his chest and when Eddie leaned forward, (Y/n) leaned with him. She watched him ease Evie down into the chair in front of him so she was sat beside Chris.

She began patting her hands against the table like she was drumming out a beat for everyone. When she stretched her hands out for the cup in the middle of the table, Eddie quickly grabbed it first and slid it down the end of the table towards Evan. "You're not having coffee baby, nice try."

Evan grabbed the mug and put it in the sink and found a juice bottle in the fridge which he handed over to the toddler instead.

"Why did you come down today, I thought you were all going out?" Eddie spoke quietly, hovering his lips over the shell of (Y/n)'s ear until she was shivering and squirming against him.

"I need to borrow the jeep."

"What's wrong with the car?"

It was usual for Eddie to take the jeep to work and leave (Y/n) with the car. Eddie was so used to driving bigger cars and the trucks here at the station that going back to a small car always made his driving worse. And (Y/n) felt safer driving something smaller than the jeep Eddie had. She only drove the jeep when she was desperate and had no other choice.

"Mum broke the car-"

"Chris! I didn't break the car." (Y/n) unravelled an arm from around Eddie so she could swat Chris's shoulder playfully. She pressed her lips into a thin line when he tipped his head back into her stomach and started laughing. "The car's got a flat tyre and I can't change it. Can I take the jeep, I'll come back and pick you up later when you finish."

They had been really lucky this afternoon when they went to get in the car that Nate had noticed the back tyre was deflated. (Y/n) checked it over but she couldn't put the spare on, not when she was five months pregnant and she didn't have the energy to be messing around with it.

So they had all taken a walk down to the station in hopes of robbing the jeep for the afternoon. (Y/n) would bring the kids back out later and pick Eddie up from shift so he didn't have to walk home after an eighteen hour shift.

"I'll give you a ride home. Save bringing your troop back out later to get you." A grin spread across Evan's face as he took a seat at the end of the table. He didn't mind dropping Eddie off, they finished at the same time today anyway. And it saved (Y/n) having to drag all the kids back out this way to go back home again.

"Thanks. I'll get you the keys in a minute."

"Do you boys wanna look round the fire truck before you go?"

Three pairs of eyes suddenly set on Eddie, staring up at him with pleading looks waiting for permission to go and look. The moment Eddie nodded, the twins were up and at the stairs and Chris followed behind, kissing (Y/n)'s arm as he passed.

"Do you want to go too?" Evie tilted her head back to look at Eddie and she shook her head. She didn't want to go anywhere, she was fine at the table.

She pushed her empty juice bottle away and scrambled up onto the table so she could crawl across to Hen who happily picked her up and gave her some attention.

(Y/n) perched her chin on Eddie's shoulder and smiled sweetly up at him as she moved her arms from his chest to wrap around his neck instead. Her smile broadened when Eddie turned so his chest was merged with hers and he looped both arms around her waist, rubbing his hands up and down her hips. Although they kept moving dangerously south.

"I'll go grab the keys… will you need a leg up to get in the jeep?" His teeth punctured down into his lower lip when (Y/n)'s arms tightened around his neck. He watched the way she pursed her lips and leaned her head to the side with one brow arched.

"What do you mean by that, Eddie?" If he was going to start teasing her, she was going to start using his name. He was used to petnames rolling off her lips, hearing his name meant he was either in trouble or in for a good night.

"Be careful what you say next." Bobby muttered and patted Eddie's shoulder as he walked past him to get into the kitchen.

"You think you can get up that high?" He taunted while his eyes did another sweep up and down her frame and lingered on her stomach for a few extra seconds. Eddie loved winding her up. It was always easy to get (Y/n) riled up and it didn't matter if she knew he was joking, she always went along with it and teased him in return.

"Hm, maybe not." Pushing up on her tiptoes, (Y/n) pecked his lips before she wriggled out of his arms and took a look around. "Maybe I should find a fireman strong enough to help me. Any suggestions?" Her eyes darted over his arms, squinting as if she were scrutinising him and she patted his shoulder as she walked past him like she was dismissing him out of that category.

"I think that's a challenge I can win."

(Y/n) bit down on her lower lip, trying to distort her smile as she looked across at Evan when he got up from the table. It was clear in his eyes that he was trying to wind Eddie up and taking a few steps closer to (Y/n) as if he was about to do something clearly sparked the competitive, teasing side in Eddie.

She looked across at Evie who was giggling on Hen's lap even though she didn't really understand the conversation or what they were talking about.

She felt a familiar set of hands on her arms and her breath caught in her lungs when Eddie spun her around so she was facing him.

Her arms moved and she was about to fold them over her chest but she reached out quickly when Eddie bent down. (Y/n) had no idea what he was doing. A gasp tumbled past her lips and she grabbed his shoulders to steady herself when he held her thighs and lifted her up. He lifted her high enough that she had to loop her legs around his hips when she realised he wasn't about to put her down anytime soon.

His hands stayed curled tight around the back of her thighs and he grinned when she leaned forward, pressing her chest into his and hiding her face in the crook of his neck.

"If you drop me-"

"What, like this?" Eddie bent his knees and loosened his hands on her thighs until (Y/n) slid down his torso just a little.

"Eddie!" (Y/n) snapped her eyes closed and kept her face smothered in his neck so she didn't have to look around at the team who were laughing while Evie cheered. Her arms deadlocked around Eddie's neck and she pushed forward until he dug his fingertips into her soft thighs to reassure her he had a good grip. He wouldn't purposely drop her. He would never.

"Am I strong enough for you now?"

***

(Y/n) took a step back into Eddie, hovering over the threshold when she opened the front door only to be faced with Chris. He had either been about to open the door for them or he had been waiting near the door for them to come home.

A grin spread across her features and she reached out to wrap her arms around him when he pushed forward and curled around her.

"Were you waiting for us?" She mumbled softly into his hair as she kissed his temple. She felt Eddie's hands on her hips and he slowly walked the three of them forwards so they could get inside and shut the door.

They both looked up when Carla walked out of the kitchen, the twins following at her side. "He's been waiting anxiously for you to come home." She spoke with a soft smile which made Chris lean forward and press his face into (Y/n)'s stomach.

He giggled into her shirt which made her shiver and when (Y/n) started to rake her hands through his curls, he tilted his head back and rested his chin on her stomach instead so he was looking up at her.

"You said you'd find out today. What is it?"

"It's… a baby."

(Y/n) rolled her eyes and looked over her shoulder with an unamused expression at her husband. She watched Eddie grin and ruffle Chris's hair when Chris groaned and nudged him. All the kids knew they were going to find out if the new baby was a boy or a girl and they all wanted to know. Especially Chris. He was excited to tell his friends and his teachers at school.

Chris stayed tucked under (Y/n)'s arm as they followed Eddie into the living room where Carla and the twins were setting up a movie to watch.

A grin broke out on Eddie's face and made his heart jump in his chest when he looked over at the sofa. Evie was having a power nap. The three year old was laid on her side, curled up on the cushion with her blanket tightly bound in her arms against her chest.

Moving across to the sofa, Eddie crouched down and tenderly reached out to brush his thumb across Evie's cheek. He didn't really want to wake her up from her nap, but they were home now and she needed to wake up to hear the good news.

"Hi baby," He spoke softly and quietly when Evie's eyes fluttered open and a tired smile pulled at her lips when she realised who was talking to her.

She didn't have to speak. She shuffled across until Eddie took the hint and reached out for her. He lifted her up and switched places so he was sat in her seat and she was laid on his chest instead. Her head tucked beneath his chin and her arms bound around his chest as she wriggled to get comfy against him.

Chris slumped down on the sofa next to Eddie while Finn sat next to him and Carla stood near the end of the sofa. She was eager to find out what the new baby would be, if there would be another little girl around to spoil or an army of boys to outnumber them.

And Nate shuffled across to sit between (Y/n)'s legs instead with his arms folded over her lap and his eyes concentrated on her stomach.

"Daddy?"

"Yeah, baby?" Eddie tilted his chin down so he could look at Evie. She could barely keep her eyes open and he knew in a few minutes she would be back to sleep if she didn't get overexcited about the new baby.

He took to gliding his hand up and down her back while Chris leaned his head on his shoulder.

"If it's a sister… will I still be your baby girl?" She snuggled deeper into Eddie's chest while he pressed his lips to the top of her head.

His eyes drifted over to look at (Y/n) and he could see her biting back a soft smile. Evie was so used to Eddie saying she was his little girl, his only girl apart from (Y/n). If they had another girl, she wondered if that nickname would disappear and if Eddie would have to start calling her something else.

Eddie had been in two minds about it. Up to now he had been content to say that he had one little girl and three amazing boys. He would love another girl. He loved all the kids equally, but Evie seemed the most like him, his little shadow, whereas Chris was most like (Y/n), and the twins would always switch between them. But Eddie also wanted Evie to stay his only girl.

"You don't have to worry about that, baby. You're gonna have a little brother."

"It's a boy?" Nate pushed up on his knees and pressed his lips and nose against (Y/n)'s stomach as if he was trying to see through her stomach to see the baby.

"Yep. I'm well and truly outnumbered by my boys." Leaning over, (Y/n) pressed a kiss to the top of Nate's head and began rubbing her hand up and down his back as he clung to her front.

There would be five boys in the house and only two girls.

"Another boy." Chris grinned and leaned his head on Eddie's shoulder, wrapping his arms around him to snuggle into his side. While Finn nudged his glasses higher up his nose and grinned up at Carla who was clapping happily.

"I'm daddy's only girl." Evie mumbled happily as she moved her arms higher to lock them around Eddie's neck. She shuffled up a little higher so she could tiredly look up at him with a grin and she nudged her nose against his, prompting him to give her a kiss.

"No, I've got two girls. You're my baby girl, and mummy's my best girl."

Evie nodded and began to giggle when Eddie peppered kisses all across her cheeks. She could live with that. She could very happily be his only little girl and share the title of Eddie's only girl with her mum. She slumped back down onto his chest, giggling and squirming when Eddie bound his arms around her in a bear hug and Chris leaned over to hug her too.

Soon they would have four boys and only one girl. For now.

#eddie diaz x reader #911 imagine #imagine #pregnant! reader #eddie diaz imagine #eddie x reader #eddie diaz #evan buckley #bobby nash

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kiwriteswords · 8 months ago

Note

Hi can you write about reader is Derek sister and her and Hotch are dating and one day reader comes to visit Derek at work not realizing that Derek and Hotch knows each other or even work together and it comes out the her and Hotch is dating and Derek gives Hotch the big brother talk and Hotch propose to reader

A/N: Sure thing! Hope you enjoy it!

Birthday Revelations

Tags: Aaron Hotchner x Female!Reader (Who happens to be Derek's Sister!)

Word Count: 1.1k

Tags: Fluff, Birthdays, Big Brother!Derek, Non-BAU!Reader, Fem!Reader

The day started like any other at the BAU. Aaron Hotchner was buried in paperwork, managing the endless stream of cases and reports that came with the job. His relationship with you had been a welcome reprieve from the darkness of his work, a source of light that he had long been without. It was still new, but it felt natural.

He had gotten used to seeing you after hours or on weekends, sharing quiet moments over dinner or a glass of wine. You weren’t part of his world in law enforcement, and that was something he appreciated about you. It made the time he spent with you feel like an escape. Things were still new, but he felt something growing within him that he had not felt in a very long time.

The bullpen was bustling as usual, with agents moving in and out, working on cases, and trying to catch a breather in between. Hotch didn’t pay much attention until he heard the sound of laughter—Derek Morgan’s laughter.

That wasn’t unusual, but it was louder than normal today. Hotch knew it was Derek’s birthday today and assumed the rest of the crew was celebrating him, he figured he would join.

Walking out of his office, Hotch noticed Derek standing by his desk, grinning ear to ear, but soon realized the rest of the team was absent. Then, he saw you.

You were holding a small cake and smiling up at Derek, laughing as you exchanged a few words. For a moment, Hotch’s brain tried to make sense of it. He blinked, trying to piece together what was happening. What were you doing here?

Morgan turned and clapped a hand on your shoulder. "You didn’t have to do this, Y/N. I know you're busy, but I appreciate it," he said, still beaming.

You shrugged, a playful smile on your face. "Oh, please. Like I’d miss my big brother’s birthday."

Hotch froze, feeling the pieces click into place in his head. Big brother? His stomach did a slow roll, and he blinked again, trying to process the information. Derek Morgan was your brother. How did I not know this?

It suddenly all made sense—the way you carried yourself, that spark of protectiveness you had when you talked about your family, and even how familiar Derek’s mannerisms were when you were laughing together. Hotch’s world tilted slightly as the realization sank in.

You, his Y/N, were Derek Morgan’s sister.

Derek must have sensed something because, as if on cue, his eyes flickered over to Hotch, and for the first time, he seemed to notice the look of stunned realization on his boss’s face.

The grin on Derek’s face slowly faded, his eyes narrowing in curiosity, then widening in disbelief as he glanced between you and Hotch. It only took him a second to connect the dots.

"You’ve got to be kidding me," Derek muttered under his breath, just loud enough for Hotch to catch. Then he gave you a sideways glance, eyebrows raised. "Wait...Hotch is the guy you’ve been seeing?”

You blinked, oblivious to the gravity of the situation. "What? Me and—oh, God." You turned, noticing Hotch’s stunned expression for the first time. Your mouth dropped open as you realized what was happening. "Oh my God. You didn’t know?"

"No," Derek interjected before Hotch could respond, shaking his head. "Clearly not." He exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment before looking back up at Hotch. "Hotch, you’re dating my sister?"

You put down the cake and glanced between the two men, eyes wide. "You didn’t know we were related?"

Hotch cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. "You have different last names. I had no idea," he admitted, his usual calm demeanor cracking just a bit under the sudden weight of the situation. He had faced down killers and hostage situations without flinching, but this—this was something else entirely.

Derek just stared at him for a moment longer before letting out a short, incredulous laugh. "Well, happy birthday to me," he muttered, shaking his head. "You’ve got some explaining to do, Hotch."

You bit your lip, clearly caught between amusement and embarrassment. "Derek, come on, it’s not that big of a deal."

"Not that big of a deal?" Derek’s eyes widened, but there was a playful glint in them. "Y/N, you’re dating my boss. That’s a pretty big deal."

Hotch, finally regaining some of his composure, stepped forward. "Derek, I didn’t know. I would’ve told you if I had realized—"

Derek held up a hand, cutting him off. "Hold up. You really didn’t know?"

Hotch shook his head. "No, I didn’t. Not until just now."

Derek let out a low whistle, shaking his head in disbelief. "Man, you’ve got guts. But I’ll tell you right now, Hotch—you hurt her,” Derek raises his finger to Hotch, pointing, “and boss or not, you’re gonna have to answer to me."

You groaned, rolling your eyes. "Derek, come on. This isn’t necessary."

But Hotch, in his usual calm and measured way, simply nodded. "I understand. And I don’t intend to hurt her. I’m serious about Y/N. She means a lot to me."

Derek’s expression softened a bit, dropping his hand that was pointed at Hotch, though he was still sizing him up. "Yeah, well, you better be. She’s my little sister, and she’s been through enough. I’m just saying—if you mess this up, you’re not gonna like what happens."

"I won’t," Hotch said firmly, meeting Derek’s eyes. There was no hesitation in his voice. He knew what he felt for you, and now that he understood the full weight of it, he was even more certain. "I’m not going anywhere."

You glanced up at Hotch, a soft smile tugging at your lips as you heard the conviction in his voice. You slipped your hand into his, giving it a reassuring squeeze, and Hotch squeezed back, the two of you sharing a silent understanding.

Derek watched the exchange, his eyes narrowing slightly before he let out another exasperated sigh. "Alright, alright. I guess I’ll have to get used to this."

You grinned, stepping up to your brother and hugging him with one arm, "You know you love me, big brother."

Derek huffed, but he hugged you back. "Yeah, yeah. Just remember, Hotch, I’m watching you."

Hotch chuckled softly, nodding in acknowledgment. "Understood."

As the tension in the room slowly faded, there was laughter, a few surprised looks as the BAU team piled into the room, and a lot of teasing as Derek finally cut into the cake, all while keeping a wary eye on Hotch.

But amidst the joking and laughter, Hotch caught your eye again, and in that brief moment, he knew—no matter what, he was ready to stand by you. Even with your brother watching his every move.

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #hotch x reader #aaronhotchner #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x female!reader #derek morgan #kiwriteswords

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asthroophile · 2 months ago

Text

curtain call of the heart

iv. offstage confessions

pairing brant x fem!reader, modern high school au mutual pinning, childhood friends to lovers, might be ooc

summary: being friends with the theater club president means you have to accept the fact that you'll get dragged into acting in plays.

(n); this is the longest part i've ever written, it feels messy but i cant resist continuing it despite the pressure from assignments lol previous next...

you walked into the theater room again, determined to pretend nothing happened. unfortunately, your friends had other plans.

"y/n, i swear to god—” you barely had time to react before tina grabbed you by the shoulders.

"what?”

“I KNEW IT!” she shook you like a rag doll. “THAT WASN’T JUST ACTING, WAS IT?”

you blinked, “what are you—”

“brant! last night! the way he looked at you! the way he—oh my god, you two were basically in a romance drama!”

your soul nearly left your body, “tina—”

“don’t even try to deny it!” you absolutely tried to deny it.

“IT WAS ACTING!” you insisted, “it’s literally a drama club—what do you expect?”

tina squinted. “uh-huh, sure. and what about after rehearsal?”

your stomach dropped. “what about it?”

tina's smile stretched wider, “you think i didn’t see? you two left together. under the streetlights. it was so cinematic.”

you hated how she made it sound like some grand love story.

“nothing happened,” you deadpanned.

“are you sure about that?”

“i will actually leave.”

tina cackled, finally letting go of you. “fine, fine. but i still think there’s something going on.”

you rolled your eyes and made a beeline for your seat, praying that brant wouldn’t make things worse.

…he did.

because the second he walked in, he immediately sat next to you, draping an arm over your chair like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"morning,” he greeted, his voice laced with amusement.

you stiffened. so did tina. you could feel her eyes burning holes into the side of your head.

“…morning,” you muttered.

brant’s smirk deepened.

tina lost her mind.

you were this close to throwing yourself out the nearest window.

tina had been staring at you for the past ten minutes, her smug expression only growing more unbearable.

brant, still sitting way too close, rested his arm on the back of your chair like it belonged there.

it didn’t. at all.

"why are you looking at me like that?" you finally snapped.

tina smiled, too sweetly. "oh, no reason."

brant chuckled under his breath, and you had the sudden urge to kick him. before you could, the theater instructor walked in, mercifully putting an end to your suffering.

“alright, listen up,” she clapped her hands. “we need to start blocking the major scenes, which means our leads—” she gestured between you and brant, “—will be working very closely together today.”

you felt your soul leave your body for the second time that afternoon.

brant? he just looked way too entertained by all of this. of course he did.

“alright, this is the big moment.”

the instructor gestured between you and brant, standing together on stage.

“in this scene, your character finally realizes her feelings, but she’s afraid to admit it. she’s hesitant, and the tension is heavy.”

you already hated this. brant, meanwhile, looked like he was about to have the time of his life.

“got it?” the instructor asked.

you forced a nod, “yeah.”

“good. now, take it from the line where he reaches for her hand.”

brant didn’t hesitate. his fingers curled around yours, warm and steady. you almost yanked it away on instinct.

focus. it’s just acting. it’s fine.

his eyes softened, teasing glint replaced by something unreadable.

“you don’t have to pretend around me,” he said, slipping into character effortlessly. “you can be yourself.”

your throat tightened. “i-i don’t—”

the words caught somewhere between your brain and mouth.

brant’s grip on your hand lingered. “i mean it.”

you forgot your next line.

the instructor sighed. “y/n, relax! remember, you’re supposed to be struggling with your feelings, not struggling to function.”

oh. that was the issue.

not that brant was looking at you like that. not that your heart was actually racing. no, definitely not that.

brant tilted his head, amusement flickering in his gaze. “y/n, are you flustered?”

you instantly shoved him, “shut up.”

the instructor groaned. “alright, take two.”

you immediately fled the stage.

────

you barely made it to the hallway before tina cornered you.

“Y/N,” she grabbed your shoulders. “that was NOT ACTING.”

“yes, it was,” you lied.

“no, it wasn’t.”

“yes, it was.”

tina shook you. “GIRL.”

you groaned, prying her hands off. “i'm not doing this with you.”

“oh, you absolutely are.”

“tina, please.”

she crossed her arms. “look at me in the eyes and tell me you feel nothing when brant looks at you like that.”

you opened your mouth. then closed it.

tina gasped, “YOU LIKE HIM.”

"i do not!”

she pointed dramatically. “DENIAL.”

you groaned, "why are you so obsessed with this?”

“because literally everyone in this club has been waiting for you two to get together.”

you froze, "wait—what?”

tina's grin stretched wider. “oh yeah. everyone knows. except you.”

you felt like you were about to have an aneurysm. "you’re joking.”

“nope.”

“since when?!”

“since forever.”

you were going to pass out, then—

“everything okay here?”

you jumped. brant was right behind you. tina beamed. “oh, we’re great.”

brant raised an eyebrow. “you sure? you look like you’re about to murder her.”

“oh, don’t worry,” tina chirped. “we’re just having a fun little chat about how Y/N IS IN LOVE WITH YOU.”

your brain short-circuited.

brant blinked, “…huh?”

tina smiled, satisfied. “anyway, i’ll leave you two alone. have fun.”

and then she just—left.

abandoned you. with brant. who was now staring at you.

“…sooo,” he drawled. “anything you wanna tell me?”

oh. my. god. you needed to escape. RIGHT NOW.

brant was waiting for an answer, watching you with that mix of amusement and curiosity that only made everything worse.

your brain was screaming. your body? frozen.

brant tilted his head, "y/n?"

oh god. he said your name.

nope. NOPE.

you turned on your heel and walked away. briskly.

brant blinked. “…are you seriously running away right now?”

you walked faster.

"y/n."

faster.

"y/n, stop—"

you broke into a full sprint. you had no idea where you were going.

your brain was in full fight-or-flight mode, and since you had the combat skills of a potato, escape was your only option.

too bad brant had longer legs.

"y/n, for god’s sake—"

a hand caught your wrist. he stopped you effortlessly.

before you could yank yourself free, brant turned you around, forcing you to face him. and you were screwed.

because he was looking at you like that again—like you were the only thing that mattered.

oh no.

“you’re really running from this?” he asked, still catching his breath.

you refused to meet his eyes. "i don’t know what you’re talking about."

brant huffed a laugh. LAUGHED.

"this isn’t funny," you muttered.

"it’s kind of funny."

"brant."

his expression softened. “y/n.”

the way he said your name made your stomach flip.

“i'm not here to push,” he said quietly. “but if you feel something, just say it.”

your throat went dry. "and if i don’t?"

brant smiled. but this time, it didn’t reach his eyes.

"then i’ll let it go."

your chest tightened. because that was the problem, wasn’t it? you did feel something. you just didn’t know what to do with it.

and now, staring at brant, you knew you had to make a choice.

you took a shaky breath. then another.

brant just waited.

you licked your lips, forcing yourself to speak.

“…i’m scared.”

brant stilled.

that was not what he expected.

your hands curled into fists. “i don’t know how to do this, brant. i don’t know how to… feel like this. i don’t want to ruin everything.”

brant didn’t hesitate, he stepped forward and hugged you. tightly.

you? froze. slowly, you melted into him.

brant exhaled, his chin resting lightly against your hair. “you’re not gonna ruin anything.”

you wanted to believe that. maybe… maybe you could.

but—

“AWWWWWWWW!”

OH. MY. GOD. you ripped yourself away.

brant groaned, “you’ve got to be kidding me.”

the entire theater club was watching. ALL OF THEM. and they were CHEERING.

you wanted the earth to swallow you whole.

brant? brant just smirked.

“well,” he said, thoroughly amused, “i guess now we really have to talk about this.”

you were going to die. right here. right now.

this was it.

this was how you died.

not in some tragic accident. not by some dramatic twist of fate. but by sheer, soul-crushing, irreversible humiliation.

the entire club was still watching. some were whispering. some were smirking. and some? grinning like absolute maniacs.

brant, the walking disaster, just chuckled and stepped back—like he wasn’t responsible for your impending doom. your brain short-circuited.

NOPE. NOPE. NOPE.

fight-or-flight activated. this time? you were fighting.

you turned on him. “brant. i swear to god."

he blinked innocently, “what?"

“you. i hate you.”

brant’s smirk widened. “no, you don’t.”

“YES, I DO.”

he just laughed.

the club? eating this up.

“you two need a moment?” someone teased.

“I—WHAT?!” you choked.

brant, completely unbothered, shrugged. “nah, we’re good. y/n just needs time to process her feelings.”

your WHAT.

your brain crashed.

“MY WHAT?!”

brant’s grin grew downright insufferable. “your feelings. for me.”

the club lost it. someone actually screamed.

and you? you saw red.

────

you grabbed brant’s wrist. dragged him away from the chaos. he laughed the whole way. once you were far enough, you whirled on him.

“brant. what. the hell.”

he blinked. “what?”

“You did that on purpose.” brant just smirked.

“maybe.” your eye twitched.

“you’re insufferable.”

“nah,” he said, grinning. “i’m charming.”

you groaned.

brant's laughter softened. “relax. it’s not a big deal.”

"not a big deal? NOT A BIG DEAL?! I JUST GOT EXPOSED IN FRONT OF HALF THE CLUB.”

brant shrugged, “so? they already knew.”

…what.

“excuse me?” you asked, horrified.

brant's smile turned smug. “y/n, you’re not exactly subtle.”

your soul left your body AGAIN.

he laughed, “you really thought no one noticed?”

“I—WHAT—”

brant took a step closer. you froze.

“relax,” he murmured. “it’s just me.”

your heart did something weird. brant tilted his head, “you okay?”

you… weren’t sure. because this time, when he looked at you, you didn’t want to run.

brant didn’t say anything, just watched you with that same infuriating patience. he let you have your moment, let you fume, let you pretend you were'nt completely unraveling. and when you finally stopped—when your shoulders dropped and you breath evened out—he was still there. still waiting.

you didn’t know how long he had been standing there, watching you in silence. not pushing, not teasing—just waiting. like he always did. like he always would. and for once, it wasn’t annoying. it was terrifying.

his presence was overwhelming in the worst—and best—way possible.

“cat got your tongue?,” he said, voice softer now. almost cautious.

you snapped out of it, "no! no, it’s just—” you exhaled sharply, yanking your wrist from his hold. “you’re so annoying.”

brant grinned like that was a compliment.

“you love it," you did not. you absolutely did not…right? his teasing faded slightly, replaced by something softer. something dangerous.

brant sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “look,y/n…”

oh no. no, no, no. you knew that tone. that was brant about to say something serious. which meant—you were in trouble.

“i wasn’t kidding earlier,” he said, his usual smirk absent. “i meant it. i don’t care what anyone else thinks. it’s you, it’s always been you.”

your breath hitched. no. no, no, no—this wasn’t happening.

he was your best friend. your annoying, frustrating, infuriating best friend.

and yet, your stupid heart betrayed you. brcause for the first time, instead of running, instead of denying—you found yourself wondering, what if?

brant was still staring at you, still waiting for a response. and you? you were malfunctioning. you had to say something. anything.

but your brain chose violence, “you’re joking.”

brant blinked,“what?”

you folded your arms, desperate to rebuild your walls. “you flirt with everyone, brant. how am i supposed to believe this isn’t just another one of your stupid jokes?”

brant… didn’t laugh. for once, he didn’t smirk. instead, he looked… hurt.

“is that what you really think?” he asked, voice quieter now.

you hated that look. that look that made you feel like the worst person alive.

“i—i didn’t mean it like that,” you muttered, panicking.

brant sighed, rubbing his face. “you really don’t see it, do you?”

see what?

“you,” he murmured, shaking his head. “you’re the only one I actually—”

but before he could finish, you moved—taking a step back, trying to slip away like you always did.

brant’s hand shot out, fingers curling around your wrist. firm, but careful.

“y/n,” he said sharply, forcing you to meet his gaze.

they were alone, in the quiet hallway just outside the theater room, where the dim lights buzzed faintly overhead and the muffled chatter of others was far behind them.

“you deserve better,” you blurted out.

brant’s brows furrowed, “what do you mean?”

“i mean,” your voice wavered, eyes darting everywhere but him, “if we’re talking about… that way, about us… i don’t think i’m good enough for you.”

brant’s grip on your wrist loosened slightly, but he didn’t let go.

“i’m your opposite,” you said, eyes glossy now. “you’re everything i’m not. you light up every room, you make everyone laugh, you’re confident, outgoing, alive. and me…”

you clenched your jaw, tears threatening to fall. “i hide, i avoid people, i freeze up.”

brant’s mouth parted, speechless.

“and people will talk,” you added, your voice cracking. “they’ll say it’s wrong. that it doesn’t make sense.”

“i don’t care what they say,” he said.

“you should,” you whispered.

“i don’t,” he replied. “because they’re not me, and they’re not you.”

the air grew heavy between them, silence choking them both.

“you’re scared,” brant murmured. “but please don’t push me away like this.”

you blinked up at him, trembling.

“i’ve waited,” he whispered. “i’ll keep waiting. but don’t stand there and tell me i deserve better.”

tears finally broke free, sliding down your cheeks. “it’s not that simple.”

“yes, it is,” he insisted. “you’re the only one i want.” brant reached out, brushing the tears from your cheeks, his fingers warm against your skin.

your lips quivered. “i don’t want to lose you.”

“you won’t.”

“you don’t know that.”

his voice softened. “maybe not. but i’m willing to take that risk, if it’s you.”

your eyes squeezed shut as the fear tangled tighter inside your chest.

but when you opened them, brant was still there, holding on, unwavering. like he always did.

the silence stretched like a taut string as brant finally released her wrist, fingers brushing against her skin for a beat longer than necessary. your chest still ached from everything you just said—and everything you hadn’t.

brant let out a breath, raking his hand through his hair before quietly murmuring, “we’re done for today.”

you blinked, frowning. “wait… you mean rehearsal?”

he nodded, already turning toward the door.

“why?” you pressed, trailing after him.

brant glanced over his shoulder, the usual smirk curling on his lips despite the heaviness still lingering between them. “you sure wanna continue rehearsal?”

you slowed your pace, suspicious. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

he stopped just outside the doorway, leaning casually against the frame. his voice dipped lower, teasing. “i’m fine with continuing... but what about you? the way you look right now—with those puffy eyes?”

you face heated instantly, “brant—”

“don’t worry,” he cut in with a grin, “you’re still cute.”

you groaned, scrubbing your hands over your face. “you’re impossible.”

brant chuckled, pushing himself off the frame and walking ahead. “come on, before you start crying again and i get blamed for bullying you.”

“who says you’re not to blame already?” you muttered, following him despite herself.

the playful jab didn’t fully erase the tension, but it softened it. the banter felt like home. like them.

but deep down, they both knew they were just skimming the surface of something far deeper.

the hallway felt emptier than usual as they walked side by side, the echoes of their footsteps bouncing off the linoleum floor. the building was winding down for the day, with distant voices fading behind closed doors and the low hum of vending machines filling the silence.

you hugged your arms, staring straight ahead. you could still feel the ghost of his touch on her wrist. the weight of your conversation clung to you like a second skin, but brant… brant just strolled beside you like it was any other afternoon.

you peeked at him from the corner of her eye. his hands were buried deep inside his pockets, shoulders hunched slightly as he walked, head tipped toward the bruised sky as if hoping it might offer him a reprieve. the wind played with the loose strands of his deep teal hair flicking them across his lashes, but he didn’t seem to notice.

for once, brant—the boy who always carried the perfect comeback—looked like he wasn’t sure where to begin.

“you shouldn’t have ended rehearsal early,” you finally broke the silence.

brant gave a slow shrug, eyes still on the road ahead. “didn’t feel right to keep going."

“i could’ve handled it.”

brant’s reply was quiet, but firm. “maybe, but you didn’t have to.”

they reached the front doors of the school, where the late afternoon sun slanted through the glass, casting long shadows on the floor. outside, the golden light made the world look softer, calmer.

brant pushed open the door for you, and you stepped out into the fading day.

the walk home felt familiar but heavier now, like they were both tiptoeing around what had just happened. you could feel him glancing at you every now and then, waiting—always waiting—but never pushing too far.

“so…” brant started, hands still deep in his pockets, “should i talk about how i absolutely nailed that last scene, or would that ruin the brooding silence we’ve got going here?”

you let out a breath that was half a laugh. “i think the silence is fine.”

he nudged her again. “not for me.”

they kept walking, shoes scuffing the pavement. the quiet between them wasn’t suffocating this time—it was tentative, hanging somewhere between comfort and fear.

and neither of them dared to fully break it just yet.

as you turned the familiar corner toward the park, twilight draped itself around you, painting the streetlamps in hazy halos. the benches sat empty beneath swaying trees, except for two stray cats curled beneath the golden light, blinking lazily at the world passing you by.

brant’s laugh was soft, but carried through the hush of the evening. “reminds me of you."

you arched a brow. “what, the cats?”

“mmhm.” he nodded at you, smirking. “skittish, always darting away when i get too close.”

you huffed, rolling your eyes, but a small, reluctant smile betrayed you, "and yet you still follow.”

“guess i'm persistent.” his voice was lighter now, but when she glanced at him, there was something deeper sitting beneath the grin.

their eyes met, lingering for a second too long, before both of them looked away—too aware, too careful.

without thinking, you both slowed as you neared one of the old benches, yout footsteps syncing like muscle memory. the wood creaked faintly beneath you as you sat side by side, shoulders almost brushing but never quite touching.

you stared at the cracked pavement, feeling the weight of unsaid things pressing at your chest.

“you’re quiet,” brant murmured.

“you too,” you shot back, lips curling faintly.

“touché,” he chuckled.

the wind shifted, carrying the scent of damp earth and far-off rain. the world felt smaller here, like the park was a pocket of time just for them.

you bit your lip, hesitating. but the question clawed its way out. “you were serious earlier… weren’t you?”

brant’s playful mask faltered, replaced by something far softer. “i don’t joke about you, y/n.”

the words sank deep, leaving you scrambling for air. you wanted to say something—anything—but the lump in your throat made it impossible.

brant leaned in just slightly, voice gentler now. “you can try to keep me at arm’s length. but i'm not going anywhere.”

his proximity burned, and yet it felt safer than anything else.

so, in typical your fashion, you pivoted.

“persistent and clingy,” you teased under your breath. “you’re really the worst.”

brant grinned wide, that mischievous light flickering back into his eyes. “you mean charming and devoted?”

this time, the laughter came easily, melting some of the tension away.

for now, they allowed the soft breeze and dimming skies to wrap around them like an old friend—pretending, for just a little longer, that neither of them were standing on the edge of something terrifying.

the wind whispered through the trees, stirring loose leaves across the quiet park. brant’s gaze lingered on you, watching as you absently twisted the hem of your sleeve, you knuckles paling with every pull.

without a word, he shifted closer, slow and careful, like moving too fast might shatter the fragile thing between them.

his hand reached up, fingertips grazing your cheek before tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear. the touch was featherlight, but it anchored you to the moment.

"i’ll be waiting for you,” brant murmured, voice barely louder than the wind. his thumb brushed softly against your temple. "always. no matter how long.”

your breath caught, lips parting to speak—but nothing came. your heart pounded so fiercely it felt like it might echo out loud.

then he added, softer now, voice thick with guilt, “i’m sorry i made you cry. i didn’t mean to push you like that.”

his hand stayed at the side of your face, steady, like he wasn’t ready to let go just yet.

“but…” brant’s voice cracked, a rare tremor breaking through, “please don’t push me away.”

you blinked, the sting of fresh tears threatening behind your lashes. your throat felt like it was closing up.

“i wasn’t going to,” you whispered, almost too fast, too rehearsed.

but your own thoughts betrayed you. weren’t you?

the voice in your head was quiet but undeniable. because deep down, you had been ready to push him away again. to protect yourself. to keep things the way they were—safe, distant.

the silence between them deepened, heavy with all the things neither of them were brave enough to admit yet.

you stared at the ground, voice trembling as you finally murmured, “give me some time.”

brant exhaled, his shoulders relaxing as though those words were more than enough for now.

“you have it,” he said, unwavering. "always. for you.”

his hand finally fell away, but the warmth lingered against her skin like an echo.

they sat like that for a while, side by side under the golden glow of the streetlamp, where neither dared to fill the quiet. not yet.

and maybe, just maybe, that was enough for tonight.

you sniffled softly, wiping at the corners of your eyes when a faint rustling broke their stillness. from under a bush, a stray cat padded cautiously toward you, its grey fur speckled with white. It meowed, small and curious, tail flicking as it approached.

your attention instantly shifted. your eyes softened, the heaviness in your chest lifting just a little.

“oh, hey there,” you whispered, crouching down slowly. the cat didn’t flinch, letting you extend a hand before nuzzling into your fingers.

brant watched you from the bench, lips parting slightly as if stunned. the streetlamp cast a soft, golden halo around your figure, catching in your lashes, brushing your face with warmth.

for a moment, the fragile, guarded you disappeared. here, with the stray cat purring against your palm, you looked radiant—serene, even.

without thinking, brant quietly pulled out his phone, thumb hovering over the camera. he hesitated.

but then youre laughed, a small, genuine sound that made something tug deep in his chest.

click.

he snapped the photo, smiling to himself as he watched you murmur softly to the cat, unaware of his gaze.

his heart swelled. how could you not see it? how could you not realize how effortlessly beautiful you were—how effortlessly yourself—when no one was watching?

“...are you gonna help me pet him or just stare like a creep?” your voice broke through his thoughts, teasing but gentle.

brant chuckled, sliding his phone back into his pocket. “i’m fine watching. you’re good at this.”

you arched a brow but let the smile linger as you stroked the cat’s fur. “i didn’t know you liked cats.”

“i like you,” he replied without missing a beat, eyes glinting mischievously.

you groaned, but there was no real heat behind it. “there it is. the flirting.”

brant leaned back on the bench, hands behind his head, grinning like he’d just won a prize. “just saying.”

underneath it all—their banter, the unsaid worries, the messy feelings—you stayed there together, with a stray cat nestled on your lap.

you went quiet, your hand absentmindedly stroking the cat that lay curled on your lap. the softness of its fur was a comforting distraction.

your gaze stayed on the small creature, fingers tracing gentle patterns behind its ear as if gathering the courage to respond.

then, without looking up, you finally whispered, you voice calm but tinged with quiet knowing,

"i know... you've made it pretty obvious."

and only then did your eyes flicker toward him, soft and unreadable, like you were holding back a smile.

brant let out a breathy laugh, though his chest ached with the weight of your words. “well,” he said, leaning back slightly, eyes never leaving you, “i was hoping you’d catch on sooner.”

there was no teasing in his voice, just a quiet relief, like he’d been holding those feelings back for too long.

his fingers gently grazed the edge of the bench, closer to you now. “but you always did like making me wait, huh?”

his smile softened, eyes tracing the way your hand continued to stroke the sleeping cat.

“and yet... here we are,” you added, voice barely above a whisper, like you were savoring the rare stillness between you.

"you’re different when it’s just us,” he murmured, voice low.

you didn’t look up, but your hand faltered for a second. “how so?”

brant tilted his head, a small smile playing at his lips. “softer. warmer.”

"am i usually cold, then?” you shot back, but your tone was light, almost playful.

“hmm, more like… you build walls around yourself,” he said, voice gentle. “but you forget i’ve always known where the door is.”

your lips twitched, almost smiling, but instead you huffed quietly. “you’re not supposed to know where it is.”

he chuckled. “hard not to.”

you finally looked at him, eyes reflecting the soft light overhead. “you notice too much.”

you sat in silence for a while, the night deepening around them. the distant hum of cars, the breeze rustling through the leaves, and the rhythmic purring of the cat created a cocoon of quiet.

"you know,” brant started, voice softer now, “i like you like this.”

you frowned. “like what?”

“just… here,” he said, searching for the right words. “not running away, not hiding behind a snarky comment or a rehearsal schedule.”

you bit your lip, your gaze falling back to the sleeping cat. “it’s easier when it’s quiet like this.”

brant’s hand brushed lightly against yours on the bench—tentative, waiting. you didn’t pull away.

“then let’s stay quiet,” he whispered.

you heart thrummed in your chest as you allowed you pinky to hook around his. it was small, but to him, it felt like the world.

brant leaned back on the bench as he watched you petting the cat again. his lips tugged into a pout.

“can you stop giving that cat all your attention?” he grumbled.

you raised a brow without looking at him, “what is it now?”

he huffed, feigning dramatic offense. “i've been sitting here beside you all this time, and then this furball shows up outta nowhere and steals your attention. that’s not fair.”

you blinked, processing his complaint before a laugh escaped you. “what the hell, brant—that’s so…”

you trailed off, eyes twitching like you couldn’t decide whether to be annoyed or amused.

“so you,” you finished with a shake of your head, lips twitching into a reluctant smirk. “jealous of a stray cat. that’s a new low.”

brant shot you a crooked grin. “hey, i don’t like sharing.”

you scoffed, petting the cat just to spite him. “too bad. looks like you’ve got competition now.”

“oh, don’t worry,” brant leaned in slightly, lowering his voice with that familiar teasing lilt, “i’m very good at winning.”

you cheeks warmed, but you masked it with an eye roll. “sure you are.”

maybe, for tonight, things were okay between them. and somehow, that felt like the safest place in the world.

next: v. welcome to our new world, sweetheart

#wuthering waves #wuwa x reader #brant #brant x reader #wuwa brant

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