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atxxzist · 2 years

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with a touch of sweetness | c.s

pairing: choi san x f!reader

summary: working at a cafe, you have to deal with a certain customer with dimples who always like his iced coffee extra sweet

genre: fluff, slight angst?

word count: 2.6k

a/n: i should be using this time to write my series but this idea came to me at 1am and i couldn't stop myself sdjskdssfkf

friendly brew

the font isn't too eyecatching, the style is a little bland, and the size of the cafe isn't ideal. but it's right next to a big and bustling university--attracting a lot of customers.

usually young, sleep-deprived college students, but it does well in business despite its shortcomings; a couple regulars who are very loyal, they frequent the place so often, you've come to match names to faces, as well as their usuals.

especially, choi san.

your face drops when you see it's him, trying to reframe from an eye roll as you go to tap the screen, mumbling in such an unenthusiastic tone, "one iced coffee?"

"yes please. and with extra vanilla syrup, please."

you don't say anything, a huff under your breath because you don't know why he always want his extra sweet. the regular one is already too sweet, in your honest opinion.

"thank you, angel."

"don't call me that," you snap quietly, pinching your brows together.

"why not?" his mouth draws a straight line before leaning closer to the counter and settling his arms on it, a smile eventually blossoming on his handsome face that makes those stupid dimples pop out. "you really are one, though. you always make my coffee the way i like it."

"because that's my job," you reply, going on to scribble his name on an empty cup before turning around to scoop up some ice for the drink.

after pouring the brewed coffee onto the cup of ice and milk, not forgetting the extra vanilla syrup as he requested, you place the finished product on the counter again before slapping a lid over it.

"well, then how come yoojung and kangmin never makes it the way i like it?"

you shrug, scooting the drink his direction.

"maybe they just don't like you? i mean, can you blame them?" you try to be snarky, but instead pretty much walked yourself into his trap.

"so... does this mean you like me?" he smirks, the retort immediately whisking your breath away. "because i swear..." he picks up the cup and takes a sip, your eyes innappropriately trailing to his adam's apple before he puts it down again to glare at you.

"you always make it the sweetest." he smiles softly and you hate how your heart dances around in your chest; hate the look in his eyes, and hate how much--

"you haven't even paid for it," you change the subject, trying the very best to hide the effect he has on you because god knows how smug he'll be if he finds out you're also just very good at putting on a performance.

he giggles and searches his pockets, pulling out a ten dollar bill and placing it on the counter.

"keep the change."

he grabs the drink and downs another sip, uttering in that usual sly tone, "thank you again, angel."

the wink before he fully exits is the last thing that does you in. he's so annoying, but like every other times, you can't help but to look forward to his next appearance.

ever since you got hired six months ago, having been a replacement for an older lady who had quit, there's not a single monday, wednesday, or friday that you do not see him. those are the days he comes in.

the boy having sparked an interest in you shortly after the first encounter, finding out the mean ahjumma who never made his drinks the way he likes it--it was always either too bitter or had too much milk--have been replaced by a girl about his age with a pretty smile, and who always makes his drinks exactly the way he prefers it.

"you know, angel, maybe someday, you'll finally draw some hearts around my name," san remarks, observing his name written plainly on the cup.

a dry chuckle tumbles out of you.

"you should be grateful i even wrote your name when i really wanted to put dickhead instead."

he frowns, placing his free hand over his chest and pretends to be in pain.

"ouch. i thought this was friendly brew? you're not being very friendly right now."

your interactions with him typically plays out like that, always with the small banters and playful exchanges; your harsh words and dismissive behaviors countering his that are the complete opposite.

but whenever you hear the bell to the door clink and you see it's him, the butterflies in your stomach along with the tiniest smile that graces your lips always prove otherwise.

"what other names to substitute instead of dickhead? maybe pervert? creep? nuisance?" you cock an eyebrow.

"okay now, that is a reach. i just really really like you."

there's a short silence that befalls when he says that, your eyelashes blinking and the quietest gulp traveling down your throat.

"san, don't say things you don't mean."

"who said i don't mean it?"

"but... i'm mean to you."

his lips quirks to the side, his shoulders shrugging and not moved in the slightest from your statement.

"i don't mind."

"and also, i can't even stand you."

"even better. i love a challenge."

you roll your eyes, bouts of giggles suddenly appearing from behind, turning around and seeing yoojung and kangmin straightening up immediately as if they weren't prying on your conversation with the boy who you have already denied having a crush on.

you absolutely do not like san. not at all.

you just get a little giddy at the sight of him, and lately, you've developed a knack for listening to stories about how his day at campus went, although you always act like you don't care.

and sometimes--not often--but sometimes, your stomach will churn in the weirdest way whenever he'll talk about his female classmates; the worst being when he actually comes with one of them, her eyes full of admiration and his with something you can't quite read but still effective in invoking that pang of jealousy you're in denial of.

but something else so consistent about him aside from his flirty tactics, is the smile on his face never falters. you don't think you can ever recalll a single time he didn't walk into the shop with that idiotic grin.

which is why you know something is off the minute he comes up to the counter and a rather sullen look is his current expression.

"one iced coffee?" you're the one to speak up, and he nods in return, the silence from him is almost too out of character.

he doesn't even seem to be paying much attention when you go on to write his name, his mind seemingly elsewhere, so you take the chance to grab a sticky note to write something on it, sticking it on the cup when finished.

"one iced coffee with extra vanilla syrup."

he fiddles with the pockets of his jacket and gives you eight dollars to be exact. you remember asking him why he would sometimes give more than the cost and he told you it was for the 'service'.

yoojung and kangmin has assured you they never got tipped for their 'service' before.

he picks the drink up and shoots you one last smile, mumbling, "thank you, angel."

you have to remind yourself that san isn't just the cute annoying guy who would always hit on you every time he comes in for his coffee. that he has a life outside of conjuring up butterflies and pestering you, he's going to have bad days and you shouldn't overthink so much.

next time he comes in, it will be with that idiotic grin alongside those pleas that's become a permanent residency in your head.

except... he doesn't.

not this wednesday and not the following friday.

you see wooyoung the next monday, recognizing him as san's friend the few times he came with him to grab a cup of americano.

it's a constant battle whether you should or should not ask about his friend who'd usually pay you weekly visits, but now all of a sudden dropping off the face of earth.

eventually, you settle for should not, bidding wooyoung the customary parting; a melancholy feeling brewing when there's no sight of the black-haired boy with sharp eyes and dimples on wednesday, as well.

it's a known, rather unspoken fact that you always look forward to the showing of san, no matter how pestering and annoying he is with his attempts that makes you want to roll your eyes all the way to back of your head, the small ten to fifteen minutes exchange you'd have with him were always the highlight of your shift.

if he has given up or found someone else who makes his coffee even better, you think it'd be nice to get a proper notice at least.

friday shifts are usually your favorite because there's no tedious routine you have to follow, like commuting from class a good couple minutes away; you get to rest on the weekend after, and you start early, so you get out early, allowing the remaining of the day to be spent however you'd like.

the hour and a half left before you get to clock out is slow, the counters being wiped over and over again because you're trying to kill time, bending over and under to get spots you think you might have missed, when you hear the sound of footsteps approaching.

"welco--"

the word cuts short and the towel in your clutch drops onto the counter, your eyes only able to stare ahead in a starstruck gaze at the person before you, your heart doing laps but at the same time, there's a wave of relief that comes over.

"hi." san smiles, his messy black hair slightly falling over his eyes and the gray hoodie he's wearing clipped under his backpack makes him look like the college boyfriend you wish you had.

you swallow a knot, playing it cool.

"darn, i thought i finally got rid of you for good."

san chuckles... damn him for being so good looking.

"oh, i know you were miserable, yearning for that something that was missing from your everyday life."

"please..." you dismiss, actually hating how much truth it holds.

"you're not going to ask why i was gone?" he pouts.

you lowly sigh in annoyance, though the question has been plaguing your mind ever since his mysterious disappearance.

"okay... why were you gone?" you try to contain the tone, afraid you just might let the eagerness slip through.

"i was sick."

you raise an eyebrow in concern.

"oh... well... how are you now?"

his eyes swell innocently, genuinely surprised by the softer voice.

"a lot better now. thank you for asking, angel." he cracks a tiny smile.

oh, how you have come to miss such a nickname that used to raise your blood pressure just because you haven't heard it in over a week.

"i thought you have officially ran away or maybe you found a better shop."

he retracts with an offended scowl on his face.

"never. i would never do that to you."

you fight off a smile, quick to tap the screen and divert the subject.

"one iced coffee?"

"well, yes, but actually," he fidgets in his spot, "i was thinking if you want to uh... hang out after your shift?"

you look up from the screen to glare at him.

"huh?" you heard him, you just... want to make sure.

he's always flirted with you shamelessly, but actually asking you out is something he's never tried before. of course he's had a few impulses but have always reframed from acting on them, until now.

"i'm asking if you want to do something together. cause you know... just figured we can catch up. when you're done with your shift, of course."

the longest stare-off between you and him ensues shortly after, and you think for the first time, san might be growing shy.

you chuckle quietly, breaking the silence, and a smile blossoming on your lips.

"i get off in about an hour and a half."

"perfect. i'll come back then."

you find san seated on a nearby bench when you're out, watching the way he whips his head side to side to admire the scenery.

"your coffee," you announce, your arm stretched out, and he snaps to you immediately, eyes scanning over your attire.

he's never seen you in anything other than your work uniform. he thinks you look even prettier with that sweater vest and pair of jeans. but then, you're always too pretty for your own good.

"extra sweet?" he asks, all playfully.

"extra sweet," you reply, taking the seat next to him and observe as he goes to confirm it.

"doesn't taste like it."

you scoff. "well, maybe you have officially lost your taste bud."

he hums and scoots even closer to you, the side of his leg touching yours.

"that would require more testing. maybe you can help? bet you taste sweeter than anything. i wonder how it would be, to kiss an angel."

an even louder scoff falls from you.

"don't flatter me. and i'm not kissing you."

he laughs and shakes his head.

"i'm not lying when i say that. i was honestly having such a shitty time, having been denied an internship i really wanted, only to get sick not even a day after."

the amusement on you is fast to dissipate, replaced by a look of sympathy.

"oh... was that why you looked so down that day?"

he smiles rather lightly.

"yeah. but it's whatever. i'll just try again next time or apply for a different one."

there's a moment of the birds chirping high in the sky and the sound of pedestrians walking until you speak again.

"sorry to hear..."

you feel bad for him, understanding the feeling all too well; like you're incompetent and not good enough. on top of that, he even got sick afterward.

"i always knew you cared about me," he says, breaking all the empathy bones in your body--you having to settle for a major eye roll.

"pfft."

"you know... when i sick, i always looked back to your note and it always made me feel a little better afterward despite quite literally dying in bed."

a sheer chuckle bubbles out of you at the confession.

"i don't believe you," you tell him.

he looks you straight in the eye and shakes his head, vouching for his honesty.

"i'm forreal. look, i even brought it with me today."

your eyebrows furrow together as you watch him search his hoodie with his free hand, pulling the familiar piece of paper out of one of the pockets, still able to comprehend the black ink you were responsible for.

i added just the littlest bit more of vanilla syrup bc you seemed a little down. not too much though bc i'm already worried abt ur glucose level. but hope u feel better soon.

"you're... crazy."

the temperature on your cheeks heats up like crazy, san witnessing them in action as they turn a bright shade of pink, unable to help the lovesick smile that breaks out on his face.

then another stare-off follows, the longest silence hanging between you two that both badly wants to break but too unsure how.

you take the opportunity to admire his features; his keen jawline, sharp eyes, and oh... the slit in between one of his eyebrows that makes him look extra attractive.

then your gaze travels to his lips. plumped, luscious, and just waiting to be taken in--and it must've been how you've been wanting to kiss him for so long now, that one second you're apart, and the next, your lips are stilled against his when you go to place a peck on them.

pulling away, you search him for a reaction; he's a bit dazed and stunned, until the corners of his mouth turns and a soft smile overtakes his expression.

"you really are an angel sent from heaven."

#san fluff #ateez fluff #ateez angst #ateez drabbles #ateez imagines #san x reader #choi san x reader #ateez x reader

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pleasantlyinsincere · 1 year

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May Pang, Sunday Mirror December 14, 1980

MY LOVE AFFAIR WITH LENNON - I didn't steal her man - by Tony Frost

John Lennon's secret love has talked for the first time about her "beautiful and tender" affair with the tragic superstar.

Chinese beauty May Pang has fought back the tears and said: "I still can't believe he is dead. Now he is gone, I feel a part of me has died too." Lennon turned to May after breaking up with his Japanese wife Yoko Ono in 1973. They spent eighteen 'Idyllic' months together - living in Los Angeles for six months, then setting up a love-nest on New York's fashionable East Side, before Lennon eventually went back to Yoko.

Only a few close friends knew of Lennon's romance with May, who was once secretary to him and Yoko. The affair was deliberately concealed from fans.

May, 30 but looking ten years younger, overcame her grief at last week's assassination of the ex-Beatle to give me an exclusive interview at her Manhattan apartment. "They were such magical times", she said. "Thank God, no one can take away my precious memories. I count myself as a very lucky woman to have shared some of John's most tender moments, his private thoughts and, most of all, his love. John brought me more happiness than I could hope to find in a lifetime with another man."

May originally worked for apple, the Beatles recording company. She became very close to Yoko and helped her in women's lib campaigns. "I don't want to say anything that might be hurtful to Yoko", she said. "She was always very kind to me. I didn't steal her man - they had broken up before John and I became lovers. I know she is deeply upset, and my heart goes out to her. But I have shed as many tears as Yoko."

Last Monday night, when Mark Chapman pumped five bullets into Lennon outside his New York home, May was at a friend's flat half a mile away. "We had the radio on," said May. "The disc jockey suddenly interrupted saying 'John Lennon has been shot'. At first I thought it was some kind of a sick joke. The initial news flash said that John was wounded. A few minutes later it was announced that he was at the hospital being operated on. I began shuddering and held my breath. I prayed that it wasn't true, but the third bulletin revealed the awful truth - John was dead. I screamed hysterically for several minutes. I stayed in bed for two days, sobbing and just thinking of John. I couldn't eat or sleep - my body was so numb from shock."

TOO UPSET

"The only thing I managed to do was pull a call through to Yoko. One of her aides answered the phone, saying she was too upset to talk to me. I can understand her feelings. Perhaps she cannot forgive me for loving John as much as her, and I feel I have no right to intrude into her sorrow. I left a message that I would gladly to anything to help her or their little boy Sean."

May's flat is a shrine to Lennon. Two pictures that she took of John - one showing him shirtless on a beach in California, the other relaxing with ex-Beatles drummer Ringo Starr - take pride of place. A note that Ringo slipped through the door of their New York home is pinned on the wall. "Dear John and May, Popped round to see you. Will call again." May has all of Lennon'd records but her most treasured possession is a doodle he produced.

"He was talking about finding peace and tranquility in his twilight years," she said. "He sketched for several minutes and handed me a drawing of himself as a little old man. 'That's how I'll look, when I'm 64,' he told me."

Lennon obsessed with assassination during the early Beatlemania years, later curbed his fear of death. "His great desire was to grow old gracefully," said May. "Some people fear old age, but John actually looked forward to it."

May, who was nicknamed 'Mother superior' by Lennon because she loved to organise things at his recording sessions, now works for Rod Stewart's record company. She cuddled two pet cats as she told of the gentle side of Lennon.

"When he read about callous acts of violence throughout the world, he would take it all so personally. 'Guns are for cowboys in the movies,' he said. John wanted desperately to be accepted at the level of the ordinary man. He always shunned bodyguards, to avoid attention being drawn to him."

WITTY VERSES

In a magazine interview shortly before his death Lennon said he had sometimes beat up his women. "He was never like that with me," said May. "He was a kind, caring and gentle companion. We would often stay up until dawn discussing music and the world's problems. Sometimes as we lay in bed he would recite poetry - nothing heavy just little witty, amusing verses - or sing to me. He was a real romantic and I don't believe he was capable of hurting a fly."

Lennon's fling with May ended after he bumped into Yoko backstage at an Elton John concert in New York.

She suggested he should improve his health by cutting down on alcohol, losing weight and stopping smoking. An appointment was made for him to visit a hypnotist who treated heavy smokers. Friends say that after his first session in the hypnotist's chair Lennon walked "almost spell-bound" back to Yoko's flat. From then the two were inseperable.

"When John went back to Yoko I knew it was finished between us forever, because he was a loyal and honorable person", said May. He was faithful during our time together and since he returned to Yoko there was never any question of him looking at another woman."

The last time May spoke to Lennon was three years ago ata party at Regine's nightclub in New York. "He was very careful in his choice of words because Yoko never left his side," said May. "I believe he could sense that I had never stopped loving him. I will love him forever. There will always be a corner of my heart reserved for John Lennon.

Lennon's affair was observed by Chris Charlesworth, then American editor of Melody Maker.

Chris, 33, said in London: "He was obviously infatuated with May. Yoko thought it would be a short-lived fling while John sowed his wild oats. I don't think he could ever get Yoko out of his mind. He used to ring her every few days just to hear her voice."

Chris said: "Dying so young was something that never entered John's head. 'When I'm 64, Yoko and I will be a doddery old couple living in a tiny cottage in Ireland,' he said. "Yoko envisaged them growing all their own vegetable and milking a couple of goats every day."

Lennon gave the reason why the fab four could never perform together again.

He told Chris: "If we got our act together it wouldn't be as good as the old days. We're rusty old men." The world will now never know if he meant it.

#going through articles from the first year (in this case days) after john's death is so fascinating #everybody staking out their claim. what narratives get set up what will later be changed....#May Pang #John Lennon

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marlanawrites · 1 year

Text

Need-Roman Reigns

You couldn't help yourself as you looked up at the screen. Roman Reigns VS Cody Rhodes in the main event of Wrestlemania Sunday. Roman was so captivating to you. Everything about him drew you in. From the way he walked into the building all the way to how he makes you feel something when he is telling a story in that ring.

Roman had everything; the look, the athleticism, and definitely the talk. He had you hooked from the moment you ever laid eyes on him. He was someone that just oozed success. In your mind, there was nothing he couldn't do. It was one of the many things that inspired and motivated you to go above and beyond with your own work.

You had just had a spectacular triple threat match with Rhea Ripley and Bianca Belair in a winner takes all match in the main event of Wrestlemania Saturday. Although you didn't win, you knew you had stolen the show for that day, and it really showcased your talent. Everyone gave you praise, but all you wanted to do was get back into the ring and start working towards your goal; the women's championship.

It was now the day of Monday Night Raw, the Raw after Mania, and you knew the crowd would be hot. That, and there were possible call ups from the NXT brand coming so you had to get there early to train and take a look at who might be possibly showing up.

As you were training, you couldn't shake the thought that you had eyes on you. Those thoughts were confirmed when you saw Solo Sikoa standing in the corner. Once you meet his eyes he makes his way to you in the ring. "I have a message for you. From the tribal chief." He says, and your eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

"And what might that message be?" You ask him.

"To meet him in his chambers before the show goes on the air." He says with full seriousness, but you can't help but laugh at the way he said chambers. "Something funny?" He quirks his eyebrow, and you shake your head.

"Please tell, your highness that I'll be there. Though, he is cutting into my time so he will owe me." You tell him, and don't wait for a response before exiting the room.

Later that night, you walk up to Roman's door and knock. Paul Heyman opens it with a smile, and moves aside so you can enter. There he sat, and he broke the stare he had on the ground to look up at you. "Paul, give us a minute." He orders, and Paul nods before exiting and shutting the door. "Please, have a seat." You sit down, and look forward at him.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" You ask, and he leans to sit back in his chair.

"A very impressive match last night. Probably one of the best women's matches I have ever seen." He compliments you, and you sit up straighter.

"Thank you." You tell him, and he actually pulls it up on the TV he had in his room.

"I wanted to point out something in particular to you. Not to criticize, but to educate."

"Of course." He pulls up where you had performed a choke hold close to his own. "I should have asked your permission to use that, but didn't want to be a bother."

"There's no reason for you to do that, because you modified it. However, you can see where you had almost lost your grip, and I can show you how to avoid that. With women, it's different than when you do it to another man, but it's just a tiny adjustment." He ends up demonstrating it, and showing you some other alternate ways and things to study.

"Thank you, Roman. I wasn't quite sure what to expect when Solo had told me to come see you, but yeah thank you. I appreciate the feedback."

"I see a lot of myself in you. I see the long hours you put in here, and the match itself shows just how bad you want to make it to the top. If you're willing, I would love to work in the ring with you. Just a couple times a week to get you to where I think you want to be and then some."

"Absolutely! I would be honored." You tell him, and he smiles at you before taking a quick glance up and down. Was he checking you out?

"Great, we will get together later this week and then go from there." He stands up, and you do the same before shaking his hand. You turn to leave and when you make it to the door, you look back at him.

"Oh, and by the way, please tell Solo not to refer to this place as your chambers. I sort of laughed in his face." You tell Roman, and he even lets out a breathy chuckle.

"Will do. Have a good night, Y/N." He says with a smirk, and you can't help but take a glance over him.

"You too...champ."

It had now been several weeks that you had been training with Roman, and boy he did not go easy on you, which you were grateful for. You hated when you trained with males who assumed you wanted them to take it easier on you just because you were a woman.

He had helped you with things that you had been struggling with for months and months. It was so interesting to pick his brain as well. He had so much to say both from being in the business for so long and being born into it.

Turns out, he made you laugh a lot. You were constantly finding yourself smiling when you thought about him, and he gave you butterflies.

You couldn't admit it out loud, because then everything would change. He would go from your sweet training partner and idol to someone who was way out of your league and would reject you.

You were hanging out with him in his office I guess you would call it, when Paul had knocked on the door and Roman granted him access to come in. "So sorry to interrupt, but Ms. Y/N, there is someone who is requesting to come to see you."

"Did they give a name?" You ask, and for some reason your gut was telling you that this wasn't good.

"They wouldn't give a name." Paul tells you and you get even more anxious. "I'll try again." He says before closing the door. You look down at the ground, and your heart begins to pound. Paul walks back in and gives you a name that makes your body go cold.

You don't know how long you're zoned out until you feel a warm touch on your arm. "Hey." Roman's voice pulls you from your thoughts and you turn to look at him. "I told Paul not to let them in." He tells you, and you nod.

How do you tell him you want him to hold you without it being weird? "Talk to me." He says in a voice so low it was almost a whisper.

"I don't want to dump that on you. Not yet." You confess without even realizing it. You lean forward to rest your elbows on your knees and your fist rests against your forehead. You're only like that for a few seconds before you feel a tug on your arm, and he pulls you into his side. You lay your head on his shoulder and he rests his head on yours.

"I'll be here whenever you are ready." He tells you, and you see his hand lying there on his leg. You let out a sniffle, and make the move to slide your hand in his. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze once he feels it in his. He adjusts his head so he can plant a light kiss on the top of your head.

"Thank you." You tell him, and move your head to look at him. "It's just really heavy, and I-" You cut off your own words when you feel yourself start to get worked up again.

"Hey, it's okay." Roman says, looking into your eyes. "There's no rush. I swear." He gives you a small smile, and you smile back.

"Okay, well I'll let you get prepared for tonight." You reluctantly pull away from him, and stand up. He stands up with you, and you feel like crying again. "Good luck, tonight."

"What do you have planned?" He asks, and you shrug your shoulders. "Y/N, I don't like how down you look right now. Are you going to be okay?"

"I always am, right?" You say to try and lighten the mood, but he still has that serious look on his face. "I'll see you before you leave, okay?"

"Come here." He reaches out to grab your hand, and then he pulls you into him for a hug. She can't see it, but on the inside Roman was hurting seeing you like this. Whoever this person was, he could tell they had hurt you, and he wanted nothing more than to make it right. "I don't think you should be alone tonight."

"I'll be okay, and I can call you if I need you, okay?" You tell him, and he nods before letting you walk away from him. "Good luck, I'll be watching."

It was about three in the morning when Roman heard his phone ringing. He quickly reaches over to answer once he sees your name on the screen. "Hey babygirl, you okay?"

"No." You tell him, and he can hear you crying. "I didn't want to bother you, but my mind won't stop."

"I'll come to you. Are you still home?"

"No, I started to drive to you, and realized I didn't actually have your address and so I pulled into a gas station."

"Okay. I just sent you my address, go ahead and continue your way to me, but keep me on the line."

"Okay." You sniffle, and get back on the road to him. "I should be there in about ten minutes."

"Okay good. Keep me on the line, babygirl. I'm here waiting for you. I can't wait to see you."

"Really?"

"Of course. I look forward to seeing you everyday. Have I never told you that?"

"No." You sniffle, and try to see through your tears.

"Well, I do. Every single day. You're my favorite person in the world."

"You're mine, too." You tell him, and then you arrive at his home. "I'm here." You hear the phone hang up, and grab it before exiting the car and locking it. You walk right up to the front door, and he's opening it up as soon as you reach it.

You walk in, and he wraps you in a tight hug. "That smart brain of yours is being mean to you isn't it sweet girl?" You nod into his chest, and he squeezes you tighter. "Come on, let's get you comfy."

He leads you up the stairs, and down the hall to his bedroom. "Is it okay if I shower before we lay down?" You ask him, and he nods. "Thank you."

"Here." He pulls off the shirt he was wearing, and hands it to you. Then, he hands you some underwear and a towel. "All I have is manly soap so I hope that's okay." You giggle at him, and nod. "Okay, I'll be out here when you're done."

You don't take too long before you're done, and make your way back to him. "Did that help a little?" He asks and stands up to meet you by the bed.

"A little, yeah." You tell him, and he looks down at you. His hand comes up to cup your cheek and he caresses it with his thumb. "He's my husband." You tell him, and his hand falls, but you catch it. "It's complicated, and honestly the details are a little messy, but I just want you to know that I'm not with him."

He remains silent for a moment before cupping your cheek again. "I believe you." Roman can't say why, but he does. He thinks it's the look in your eye, or maybe he just wants to go with his gut feeling for once. "What can I do?"

"Distract me?" You ask him, and he has an expression that's unreadable. "Please?"

"Are you sure that's what you want?" He asks you, and you nod. "You're going through a lot right now. Are you a hundred percent positive you want this? That you just want me as a distraction?"

His words confuse you. Of course you want more from him. "Is that all you want from me?" You ask him, and he sighs before sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"I don't need the distraction. I'm just trying to be who you need. I know you haven't had people just be there for you which is what I'm trying to do. I want you to be sure that if we do this, you won't switch up on me. I care about you, Y/N."

"And the fact that I'm technically married doesn't scare you off?" You ask him, and he reaches out to grab your wrist lightly to pull you closer to him. "Because I would understand if it did."

"Did he hurt you?" His voice was full of care.

"I don't want to be a charity case to you." You tell him honestly, and that answer basically gave Roman the answer without even saying it directly.

"Have I made you feel like that?" He pulls you even closer, and you shake your head while moving to straddle his lap. "Then why would I start now?" You shrug your shoulders, and his hands graze your thighs before squeezing at your hips.

"It's so bad, Roman." You whisper, and look down at your hands. "Wrestling has been my escape ever since I was younger, but with him it's like if i'm not wrestling then I literally can't breathe. He's a big name throughout his business, and I don't know if I can escape him."

"I'll make sure you're safe." He says, and leans his head forward to capture your lips with his. "I'll be damned if he lays another hand on you again." He kisses you again, and you rest your hands on his chest. "Let me be your peace." All you can manage is a nod.

His lips make their way down your throat, and he breaks the kiss to remove the shirt from your body. Your breath hitches when his eyes lock on the newly formed bruises. "Give me his name, and I'll fucking ruin him."

"Not tonight." You plead with him, and you make him look you in the eyes again. "I need you, Ro."

He nods, and flips you over onto your back on the bed, his mouth never leaving yours. He kisses down your throat again, and your hands slid around to the back of his neck. His hands move to remove the rest of your clothes, and you gasp when his warm hand wraps around part of your thigh. He brings his lips back to yours, guiding his tongue inside of your mouth to tangle with yours.

He then guides his lips down your body until he is in between your thighs again. He wraps his hands around your thighs, pulling you closer before glancing up at you while his tongue begins to glide between your folds. His eyes roll back into his head, and a groan escapes him. The sound that came from him, had you immediately pulling onto his hair.

Your chest began to rise, and fall, his hands tightened around your thighs, and you swore it felt like an out of body experience. Each sound that left your mouth only encouraged Roman to please you even more. At some point, you had begun to grind on his face, and he let you until you came on his tongue.

You look up to the ceiling as you try to contain your breathing, but on the other end Roman couldn't stop looking at you. With your taste on his tongue, he gazes over your body until you turn your head to look at him once you hear his pants hit the floor. You smile at him, and he returns it. You reach out to grab his arm as he moves to hover over you once again. "Doing okay?" He asks you, and you nod.

"Need you." You tell him, and slide your hands over his shoulders and lock them behind his neck. He grabs your legs, wrapping them around his waist. "Always." You tell him, and a look of sincerity crosses his features.

"I'm here, baby." He leans forward to press his lips to yours, and you hold him close to you. "Always." He leans back, and positions himself before slowly pushing his way inside of you. You gasp, and grab onto his bicep.

When he pulls out to thrust back into you, you fall back against the bed, and his hand gravitates to your hip, and holds onto it as he thrusts into you again. His eyes don't leave yours as he watches your body react to him. "That's it." He encourages you, and you pull him down to meet your lips. He then moves his lips to your neck again, sucking down while he drives himself in and out of you.

You flip over so you're now on top, and he looks at you with a smirk. "Use me, baby." He groans, and you claw at his chest while grinding down onto him. "Tell me how it feels."

"So good." You throw your head back, and Roman watches as you have all the power. You're letting go in more ways than one. "Feels so good." Roman sits up, and grabs your jaw before pressing his lips to yours again. He pulls away to stare at you before slowly lowering his hand to wrap around your throat. Your whimper confirmed what Roman was curious about, and he squeezed a little tighter.

"You look so pretty taking my cock like this." He tells you while looking into your eyes. "Having all the power really gets you going, doesn't it?" You nod, and he squeezes your throat even tighter and you return the favor by squeezing yourself around his cock, earning another groan from his lips.

You remove yourself to turn around, and he follows along to where you were now on your knees waiting for him to regain control. "Take me." You tell him, and look back once he grabs onto your hips. "Fuck me, please."

Roman moves to his knees behind you, and slams back inside of you. He pulls you to his chest with your hair before wrapping his bicep around your throat. You moan once the sensation of his rough thrusts and the tightening of his arm hits you simultaneously and within mere seconds you come around him.

He flips you over onto your back again, and kisses you intently before casually thrusting back into you. "Give me one more, pretty girl."

"Only if you come inside me." You plead with him, and he smirks down at you. "I want to feel all of you."

He does just that, and moans your name as you both finish at the same time. You wince when he does pull out, and he lays beside you. You're both silent as you regain your breathing, and Roman rolls out of the bed to step into the bathroom.

He comes back out to pick you up, and walks you into the bathroom where you saw he ran you a bath. "Are you going to join me?"

"Do you want me to?" He asks, and you nod. You both get into the tub, and he kisses the top of your head. "I didn't go too rough did I?"

"Not at all." You tell him, and he holds you tighter to him. "I'm scared, Ro."

"Of what, baby?"

"Him." You confess. "He hasn't found me yet, and I don't want you to get caught in the middle or get hurt because of me."

"Stay with me." He offers, and you turn to look at him. "At least until he's taken care of. I don't know what I would do with myself if I let you walk out of here and not know where he is. I can't let him hurt you again."

"You don't mind?" You ask him, and he shakes his head. "I can help out with whatever you need."

"I just need you to be safe." He tells you as you both exit the bathtub. "I need you to be okay." He looks down like he was ashamed to say it.

"Hey." You tilt his head up, and that's when you see the tears in his eyes. "I will be. Because of you." He just nods, and you can tell he's fighting off his emotion.

"I knew something was up, but we weren't-" He moved his hands back and forth. "I didn't know if I could say anything, even as a friend. I didn't want you to think I was victimizing you or something."

"Roman." You whisper his name and he walks out of the bathroom with his head down. "Hey, look at me." He shakes his head, and turns to wipe his eyes. "Hey." You grab his face to look at him. "I am so appreciative of you. You have no fucking idea." You whisper, and he gives you a small smile. "Please don't be sad. I'll be here with you, safe. Okay?"

"Okay." He nods, and you step up on your toes to place a small kiss to his lips. "I'm sorry, I just can't imagine someone..."

"I know, baby." His eyes snap to yours at the nickname. "But, I know you will take care of it, and then you and I can be happy, yeah?"

He looked at you with so much emotion you felt it would knock you over. "Yeah, we will."

#romanreigns #romanreignsxreader #romanreignssmut #romanreignsoneshot

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marshmellowfluff221 · 4 years

Text

Levi is Soft?

Pairing: Levi x Reader

Summary: Just a collection of moments where the team catches their captain's soft side.

Warnings: N/A

Sunday

Training. That's all that was happening.

New orders for an escort mission had been given and set to take place sometime next week. Levi decided to ask for your help training his squad for this particular mission. You had a history of stealth related objectives and escorting people around.

The two of you had just sent the team to run another lap around the stables.

You let out an exaggerated sigh, turning and resting your forehead against Levi's shoulder. His hand came up to rest upon the top of your head, fingers carding through the strands of your hair.

"This is exhausting." You mutter, lifting your head to meet his eyes.

"You aren't doing anything." Levi reminds, the same stoic expression on his face. His lips, however, twitched up into a small smile. Your eyes bore into his, a loving smile across your lips. You brought your hands up to rest on his shoulder, using them as a cushion to rest your chin on.

"You have no idea how much I want to kiss you right now." You admit. Levi shakes his head.

"Not now." He gently pokes at your cheek as he hears the heavy footsteps of the squad coming back around. You step away from him with another exaggerated sigh.

It was Armin who rounded the corner first. It was also Armin who noticed the smile Levi wore before it was wiped away in an instant. As they halted before you and Levi, Armin took note of the smile you wore. Was that blush on your cheeks?

Monday

Armin pressed his hands against Eren's feet as the boy did sit ups. His gaze was not on Eren, but on the two captains. He furrowed his brow as he noticed that Levi stood a step closer to you than anyone else. Maybe it was the angle he was at?

"Hey Eren..." Armin trailed off, looking at the boy in front of him.

"What?" Eren breathed out, obviously tired from the constant workout.

"You think Levi and Y/n are close?" The blonde asked as Eren sat up, resting his elbows on his knees as he took a break. Eren glanced over to the two before turning back to Armin and shrugging.

"Dunno, your turn." Eren nodded and Armin sighed as he moved to begin his sit ups.

Unknown to them was the conversation you were having with Levi. To squad working out it seemed like your little chatter was about them, but it wasn't.

"Levi." You sigh, crossing your arms over your chest. "I've told you that you need sleep."

"I do sleep." He mutters. Levi's foot nudges yours. "Don't cross your arms."

"Don't change the subject." You narrow your eyes, keeping them forward. "You only sleep when I'm in bed."

"That's sleeping." He adds a little force to his nudge. "I told you to uncross your arms."

"And I said don't change the subject." You spare a quick glance his way. Levi has his usual stoic expression. "Tonight I'm making sure you sleep."

Levi's eyes shift to you, giving you a once over before turning his gaze away. "I can't tell if you want to get in my pants or cuddle."

"I'll decide when we get there." You shrug, uncrossing your arms. "What's up with my arms, hm?"

"Brats like to stare at you." Levi mutters.

You hum in response, nodding. "So you're jealous."

"Not jealous."

"I recall you were so jealous that I spent the night training with your squad that you didn't sleep." You remind him, a small smirk on your lips.

"Shut up." Levi kicks your foot again before walking forward. "Everyone stop. Go run another lap for chit chatting."

A series of groans rang out, except from Armin and Eren. They both focus their gaze on you, who laughs and smiles at Levi's commands. They meet each other's eyes as a lightbulb flicks on.

Tuesday

"Mikasa." Eren whispered, nudging the girl with his elbow.

"What's wrong?" She asked, tilting her head towards the boy. It was hard to see him at the angle she was at. The whole squad had been tied to various poles around a circle. Their job was supposed to be to get out without tools. This exercise was simply in case of capture.

"Do you think Y/n and Levi are a little too friendly?" He asked, pulling at the ropes on his wrists as he leaned forward to look to Mikasa's reaction. She furrowed her brow, shaking her head.

"Why are you so worried about them? Focus Eren." She stated, turning her head away as she began moving her hands to escape the bindings.

"Heard my name over here." You exclaim from behind Eren, crouching down to be at his level. You grabbed onto the pole he was tied to as leverage. "Talking about me?"

"No! No- I just wanted to ask you for tips." Armin quickly spoke up. "I asked Eren to call you over."

You straightened up, glancing to Armin. Something was definitely up. With a nod you began explaining what to do in such a situation. After the explanation, you gave a pat on his head and walked over to meet Levi.

He uncrossed his arms as you neared, his fingers twitched at his sides as you stopped in front of him. Normally his hand would grab yours, his thumb running over the scars on your knuckles, but now he couldn't do such a thing. However, Levi had more self control than you.

"Hm, notice anything weird lately?" You asked, teetering on the balls of your feet. "With Armin or Eren?"

"No." Levi kept his answer short as he narrowed his eyes. "What did those brats do?"

"Nothing." You smiled, stepping forward and placing a hand on his shoulder as you leaned in close to his ear. "But they do seem to suspect we're in a relationship."

"What makes you say that?" He responds through gritted teeth.

"Just a hunch." You sigh, letting go of Levi and turning to stand next to him. Armin had just undone the rope binding him. "Plus I heard him last night when he asked Eren if he had ever seen us together outside of training."

As a result Levi stared down Armin the rest of the day.

Wednesday

With a day of a surprise mission done, you and Levi had made your way to his office. He was going to do the necessary paperwork that had to be done. It wasn't too much since no one had been hurt or injured, but he still had to do it. You had followed him because you knew that if you didn't, he'd stay in that office until morning.

Levi plopped himself down at his desk chair, leaning back as he placed a hand over his eyes and let out a sigh of relief.

"What?" You asked, shrugging off your coat and folding it in half before setting it on his desk. "Are you tired for once?"

"No." He huffed, removing the hand from his face as his eyes met yours. "But you are."

You nod, stepping up to Levi and taking a seat on his lap. His hands gently placed themselves on your waist. His grip tightened when you shifted against him to get comfortable.

"Good observation." You answered, cupping his face and tilting his head up to meet yours. "You know this paperwork won't run off right?"

"You need to be more careful." Levi blatantly said, changing the subject. Your brows furrowed. His fingers at your waist began to mindlessly play with the fabric of your shirt as he continued. "That titan threw you."

"Ah." One of your hands left his cheek as you gently booped his nose. "But I caught myself."

"You almost didn't."

"But I did- and if we're talking about being careful then you shouldn't have ran in and killed it so recklessly." You say, moving your hands to his shoulders and giving them a squeeze.

"Only to save you." Levi narrowed his eyes as he leaned forward to capture your lips with his. You smiled, pulling back to laugh lightly.

"If only those kids could see how adorable you are." You sigh, kissing him once more.

"Yeah, yeah." He huffs, his hands now resting on your thighs. "Get up, I have to do this paperwork."

With a sigh you slid off his lap and stood with a yawn. He poked the back of your thigh, gaining your attention.

"Go to bed, I'll be there when I finish."

"Something tells me that's a lie." You reply with a tilt of your head. He opens his mouth to speak, but pauses when he heard someone clear their throat. Your attention is brought to the door where Hange and Armin stand.

"Hi Hange, Armin." You give a small wave earning a wide smile from Hange. Hange urges Armin inside as they begin speaking about how Armin had some more information on the mission from the rest of the squad. While Levi and Armin began to converse, you couldn't help but notice Armin continuously glance your way.

Maybe he had heard something while walking to the door?

Thursday

Today of all days, you had woken up on the wrong side of the bed. Every little thing annoyed you.

Someone coughed while you were explaining how to do a defensive move? Fifty push ups.

A breeze blew your hair in front of your face after you had just put it up? Run a mile.

A bird interrupted your speech? They don't get to hear the rest.

It got to the point where you just stared down the entire squad as they held a plank. It wasn't until a hand placed itself upon your shoulder that you relaxed.

"Come with me." Levi's voice softened as he gave your shoulder a squeeze. He looked up at the squad and narrowed his eyes. "Run laps until we get back."

A series of groans erupted as Levi dragged you away. It wasn't until you were in the horse's stables that he stopped and turned to you.

"Hange is telling me you're working them to the bone." He begins. "But that's not the problem here. Armin ran off during one of their laps and told Hange you looked like you were about to rip their heads off. I thought you said you could handle this?"

"I am handling this." You retort.

"No you're pushing through. Bad day?" Levi asked, knowing he has had his fair share. With a silent nod, he pulls you against his chest. He wasn't the best at comforting and he didn't really know how to make you feel better with his words. This was enough for you, however.

"I'm sorr-"

"Don't apologize. This is a tough job. Those kids are brats, I get it if you want to throw one down. I suggest Eren." Levi mumbles.

You crack a smile, pushing back enough to look up at him.

"He's a good kid Levi." You reach up, your hand resting against his cheek. "Don't treat him so roughly."

You lean forward, closing the gap between you and pressing your lips against his. Levi's hands move to your waist, pulling you closer, as if that was possible. These moments kept both of you going through the day.

"Captain- oh my-" A familiar voice broke through the silence. You pulled back from Levi, looking to your right to see Jean standing in the entrance to the stables. Levi's eyes narrowed.

"What." He spat angrily. You discreetly pinched his side as you stepped away from Levi and made your way towards Jean.

"Hm? Get tired of running already? I was only gone- what like five minutes? Let's go kid." You slap a hand against Jean's shoulder, knocking him out of his shocked state.

That'd be a hard one to hide.

Friday

Today was tense.

That was an understatement. It was awkward and tense.

"Spit it out already." Levi sighs, staring down the troops before him. Armin glances over to Eren who then looks to Mikasa. Jean tenses up, his eyes on the floor.

"Are you guys dating?" Eren finally blurts out, much to everyone's surprise.

"Eren!" Mikasa grabs his arm. "You can't ask-"

"Yes we are. Any other questions?" Levi answers in a monotone voice. The entire squad remains silent as they take in what Levi had just said. As if on cue, you walk on up, unknowing of the conversation that had just occured.

"Hey guys, what's with that look?" You asked, taking your place next to Levi.

"They asked a stupid question and I gave an answer." Levi muttered, obviously annoyed.

You grew confused as Levi stepped forward and began ordering them around as usual.

Saturday

"So what was the question." You asked, your horse slowing to walk in time with Levi's.

"Eren asked if we were dating." He sighs.

"Oh!" You straighten up, glancing over your shoulder at the troops trailing behind. The day had finally come to set off on the escourt mission, since it would take a day or two to get there the squad left in the morning. "So...you lied to them didn't you?"

"No." Levi replies.

"No?" You repeat.

"No." He confirms.

"Oh."

"Oh?" Levi asks, glancing over at you.

"Yeah. Oh." You shrug. "I just thought you would've wanted to keep us a secret to avoid all the teasing or-"

"I could care less." Levi scoffs. "If you think I actually care about their opinions, you're wrong. It's not a secret that we're together."

"Levi I think that's the sweetest thing you've ever said." You respond with a smile.

"So he is a big softy." Eren exclaimed. Levi's attention snapped to Eren as he narrowed his eyes. "Ah...nevermind."

#aot x reader #snk x reader #snk levi #levi x reader #levi ackerman #levi aot

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scuttle-buttle · 3 years

Text

Chapter 11

WC: 2077

Rated: E

Chapter Tags: full on angst, discussions of emotional trauma, mild depictions of blood/gore, mentions of self h*rm & su*cide, mentions of child abuse, discussions of physical disabilities, institutionalization, some dialogue & plot canon to TV show, hurt/comfort

🧠

The rest of the conference went by much like the first day did. Both you and Laszlo bought a few books for your collections. An ease had settled over your conversations with the help of Sara and John's presence; you spoke more freely with each other. You tell yourself it is not because he's going soft on you or vice versa, but rather that you have found yourself in this imaginary bubble where you happen to get on well. It's inevitable that it will pop once you’re back at school and Laszlo will revert back to his usual callous state.

Laszlo. It still felt odd to think of him like that, rather than by his title. You couldn't lie, it gave you a sort of thrill. Even in your dreams you had only called him by his honorific. Thankfully you didn't have another dream after Friday. You couldn't escape the feeling that you'd said something incriminating in front of the man in question. So you chose to pretend it didn't happen.

Monday morning came and you headed to the train station. Once again he had secured a private cabin for the journey. This time you came prepared with a book since you had yet to replace your broken phone.

"Thank you again for inviting me to this, I really enjoyed myself. It was really nice of the department to foot my travel expenses, the hotel was really fancy. I may have helped myself to a mini-bottle or two," you joked.

"There is no need to worry about the department's finances; they were not involved."

You pause. He paid for you? Laszlo did say he would take care of the arrangements; but the four-star hotel, the private compartment train tickets, the admission to the conference, and every meal? Shit, that must have been a fortune, hundreds of dollars at least.

You don't know what to say, so you settle for an awkward "oh." A moment passes before you add "I appreciate that, um, I can pay you back. Might take some time but I can."

The professor is flippant in his reply. "There is no need, it was well spent for the research and knowledge acquired." He opens his book signaling the conversation is over.

You lick your lips. Fine then, I'll just consider it payment for emotional suffering and damages of the last eight weeks.

The first few hours of the journey were spent reading one of the new books you picked up at the convention. Occasionally you would peek over the pages at the professor. He was engrossed in his own selection; sometimes he would pause to write down a thought.

Around the seventh hour of your journey you had given up on reading anymore in favor of looking at the fields outside. The silence was comforting.

Laszlo had trouble concentrating on the book in his hand. He saw you as a conundrum. One minute you could be sociable and teasing with your comments, then next you were biting at his throat with your quick wit and fierce ideals. He decides that he wants to know what made you into who you are today. Now is as good a time as any.

His eyes on you cause a tingle up your spine but you ignore it. Laszlo breaks the silence; "may I ask a personal question?"

"You just did," you answer, still peering out of the large window. He huffed once, amused. At his following silence you face him. You raise your eyebrows to signal him to go on with his question. Curiosity grows at the thought of what he intends to ask.

"Twice now you have made implications of a traumatic past," he begins.

Bubble popped.

Interrupting, you snark "is this the part where you psychoanalyze me, doc? Because trust me, I've been through enough of that." You pick at the lint on your jeans.

Laszlo tries to choose his words more carefully the next time he speaks. "What I mean to say is, the first afternoon in the classroom where you defended that student you implied you had been witness to a trauma. You then displayed signs of anger and embarrassment before leaving prematurely. Yesterday you mentioned having entered a psychiatric facility. As an alienist I can't help but find myself curious about your experiences."

You slide your eyes to meet his from across the cabin. Your face is devoid of any emotion. "We all have our demons. Even you can't argue with that."

Your jaw clenches. Everyone had warned you. They all said he would try to worm his way into your head to figure you out. All the reviews, the gossip, everything. It was a big fat 'I told you so'. You give a pitiful laugh at the situation. "You know, everyone told me that you would pull this stunt."

He seems confused by your statement. "And what is that?"

"That you'd get inside my head and try to figure me all out or whatever. You already know I googled you beforehand, what everyone says about your methods. By now I assume you've done a little research yourself. I promise you there is nothing exciting here," you scoff and point to yourself.

"You would be correct in your assumption." You chew at your cheek as he starts. "I do know some of what happened in your past. Yet I also know that society likes to dilute the truth into something either more palatable, more entertaining, for people to consume greedily. What I want to know is what you have faced. How you have not allowed the experience to overcome you so much so that your humanity is erased like the characters I lecture on."

Eyes closing of their own volition you are thrown back in time to that night so many years ago. You didn't talk about it anymore. Bitsy knew of course, but that was the extent.

Laszlo waits. He knows this is likely to push you over the edge if your history with him means anything. Quite frankly, anyone would be tossed to their limit at his interrogation had they gone through what you had. John always told him that he needed to work on his bedside manner; that he had a habit of coming on too strong in his pursuit of learning the intricacies of the human mind. But your earlier comment about being sent to a so-called 'nuthouse' rubbed him the wrong way. It left a bad taste in his mouth. He needed to know. He needed to understand.

Laszlo can imagine the reprimand that he would receive from John and Sara for this. Just as he considers apologizing for his intrusion you open your eyes.

"She was fine. None of us suspected anything was wrong. I came home from having dinner with some… boy, and she had locked herself in the bathroom. She- she must have started over the sink and moved to sit on the side of the tub. She was hunched inside it when I got the door open. I pulled her out. Blood was… everywhere." Your voice is clinical as you explain.

"After, I shut down. So I checked myself into a psych ward a few days later when I couldn't get the feel of her blood off my hands. It's slippery, you know. And it smells. You wouldn't think so but it does." You clear your throat. "I did the therapy, took the meds they prescribed, all the standard treatments. Later I started watching true crime documentaries. I'd heard about exposure therapy so I figured the more I saw the gore, the less the image of my dead roommate would bother me. And it did help. The nightmares stopped after a while, I came back to school. I was better, just not the same.” You had watched the passing landscape as you explained. Turning to face him you speak again. “That's why those pictures didn't bother me. They weren't anything I hadn't seen before."

He contemplates you. The discovery and subsequent loss of your friend in this manner would no doubt cause lingering effects to your psyche. A stain that would forever remind you. "I offer my sincerest condolences. I do not presume to know what that would be like to experience, but I am glad you sought help afterwards. To make the choice to alleviate yourself of your own suffering where possible.”

As he says this he realizes that your anger towards the idea of being enslaved to unconscious impulse makes perfect sense. It explains why you focused so much energy on defending your belief in free will. That you have the power to choose how you carry your joy, your anger, your healing. It reminds him of how he held onto his own guilt and hurt, ignoring how it festered within him for so long. He feels as though he needs to share a piece of himself with you.

“I played piano as a child, quite well too. My mother hoped I would someday make a career of it. I vividly remember playing Mozart’s Concerto for Piano No. 20 in D Minor at a holiday party when I was seven years old. It was my favorite to play.... It requires two hands." You finally look at him. "My father...” He pauses to gather himself.

Now it is the doctor that cannot meet your eyes. As you listen you feel your confusion grow. How could he have been a talented pianist if he only had full use of his left hand? Unless..., the realization dawns on you just as he continues, his words slow.

“My father had two sides. One loving and the other brutal, the two often coexisting. It was something as trivial as putting me to bed, I recall... A game of tug of war. We were laughing…” He inhales a sharp breath. Already you can feel the tears begin to blur your vision. “I don't remember if he was drunk or if I said something that offended him. He must have pulled my arm behind my back.” Laszlo exhales shakily. “In small children, fractures can often affect…” he trails off, unable to finish. You can hear how he barely holds himself together.

Your heart aches for the broken man that sits in front of you. He never let on how much his arm bothered him, at least not within your presence. Suddenly you don’t see him as this rude, insufferable, obsessive man, but instead as someone that spends his life trying to protect himself. He projects his own anger and hurt so that he may, just for a minute, forget about his own demons. He wants to help others even when he feels he cannot bear to help himself.

But unlike you, he has to live with the physical reminder of his past every day of his life.

You stand and move to sit on his right side. Before allowing yourself to think too much of your actions, you place your hand atop his own, curling your fingers around his palm and squeezing delicately. You don’t bother wiping away the tears on your cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Laszlo;” the whisper is barely heard above the sound of the train. A second passes where you fear you have overstepped and offended him by touching the affected limb. When his thumb tightens against the backs of your fingers you know he is not. He holds you in place.

“You asked me how I kept my humanity. How does anyone really? We learn to take what we get and we carry it in a bag. Sometimes you have to drag the damn thing behind you. But eventually the weight gets less and less if you allow yourself to move forward, even if it’s still there with you all the time. I dealt with what happened years ago and it does still haunt me. It’s easier now than it was, but… I- I suppose I’ve learned from you too. Sitting in those lectures and hearing you talk. We can either let it haunt us for the rest of our lives… or we can accept it… and use the memory of our pain to help ourselves and others.”

“I’m not sure the choice is entirely in our hands.” His tone is mournful.

You turn to smile at him through your tears. His own eyes are bloodshot. “I disagree. If it weren’t, if we didn’t have the freedom to choose that, we’d all be murderers.”

Tag list

@hardlyinteresting @lorna-d-m @livvyshmiv @somethingthatsaysbubbles @greeneyedblondie44 @unbeatablecurlgirl @apparrio @marchingicenotes7 @anteroom-of-death @bruhidaniel @lemairepstuff @thehuiabird @zemosimp05 @alindeluce @iamnotthecatladynextdoor @laura-naruto-fan1998 @trelaney @boneheadduluc @i-am-dead-inside-666 @fictionlandslanddreams

#the interpretation of dreams #laszlo kreizler x reader #laszlo x reader #laszlo kreizler #the alienist #the alienist angel of darkness #daniel brühl #daniel bruhl #laszlo kreizler fanfic #laszlo kreizler daniel bruhl #scuttle-buttle #tw self harm #tw suicude #tw child abuse

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differentkettleoffishalltogether · 4 years

Text

I’m On Fire [Chapter 1]

Summary: With her sister’s wedding fast approaching and her Mom hounding her about finding a date, Y/N makes a terrible decision that lands her and her least favorite genius in a confusing situation.

A/N: This is the first part in a series, I’ve written the first few chapters already so I’m hoping to update pretty regularly! I hope you guys enjoy, and any feedback is always appreciated! ❤️

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem Reader

Category: Fake Dating, Enemies to Lovers, (Eventual) Smut, Fluff, Angst, it’s a Slow Burn Baby

Warnings: None really for this chapter, cursing? Mean-ish Spencer

Word Count: 6.5k

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Series Masterlist

Masterlist

I wasn’t at the BAU long before it started to feel like home. The team became my family, pure and simple.

Having been recruited by Hotch at only 22 I'd sort of fallen into the roll of the little sister to the team without really meaning to. It's not that I was naive, or particularly sheltered even. I know I'm good at my job, and I'd want to be, given how my life's revolved around it almost entirely. But the team seemed to adopt a protective mindset over me right off the bat.

When I first joined the FBI everything was terrifying. I worked so hard for my PhD, trying to get into the unit, but there's almost nothing that can actually prepare you for the real thing. Being out in action in the field, working the cases out in real time. Sometimes they had a smooth, easy conclusion followed by loud obnoxious drinks together. Then there were the others, the ones that kept me up for days after and felt as though they owned little pieces of my heart still.

It was JJ that helped the most on those horrible flights back on the jet. Noticing my anxious ticks and uneasy disposition after that first case that had ended badly. JJ had been through it all before, taking too many cases home with her. Seeing her son's little faces in the kids that we couldn't help. If I was the baby of the team JJ was the big sister, looking out for everyone.

Morgan on the other hand was the outrageously cool older brother, the one you just wanted to be. Early on he'd helped my weak self with the ruthless fitness regimen the FBI required, he offered to pull some strings and get the test written off. But I couldn't accept that, there was something in me that just wanted to impress Morgan, and honestly still does. Like somehow if he thought you were cool, then it became true. So I passed the exam, but getting up a flight of stairs was near impossible for a week after.

Emily was probably the fun aunt. The one that would sneak you booze at the family gathering, or take you to your first concert. Emily was actually the one who'd found me, digging around colleges for potential recruits she'd had me picked out for a while I later found out. Insisting that Hotch give me a shot. It was reassuring to know I had someone who would stick up for me from day one.

I was an tech analyst, among other things, sort of a counterpart for Garcia in the field. So it was no surprise to anyone when the two of us hit it off as though we'd known each other forever. We weren't the same by any means though. Penelope was bold, and bright, and confident beyond measure, where I've typically felt like more of a blend into the background type. I've always thought of myself that way, despite my achievements. I'd also always believed I was fairly inoffensive, no one I'd met had ever had a huge problem with me, 'till I got to the BAU that is.

Every rose has its thorn I suppose.

That thorn in my side was Dr. Spencer Reid.

It wasn't that Dr. Reid was a bad agent, or even a bad person. I hadn't actually met him before that first day in the conference room, but I'd known who he was for a long time. Before I came along he'd held the mantle of 'youngest ever recruit' in the unit, while I was studying I'd read any of his work I could get my hands on because of that fact.

I figured it must've been some sort of hazing when he looked me up and down that first day I was introduced, and then proceeded to blank me entirely for a full week. Up until I'd wrapped my first case.

The whole team went straight from the jet to the bar. Proceeding to get far too drunk. Spencer joined, which the rest of the team found unusual, and I probably should've taken as a sign of things to come.

That case went well, and everyone was in high spirits but Reid had a sour disposition, at least it seemed that way every time he looked at me. After a few too many drinks I went outside in an attempt to sober up in the cold air, unfortunately Reid must've snuck outside not long before.

"Ugh" was all he said when he first caught my silhouette approaching him. The night was unusually cold so it had been deserted outside the bar that evening. I wasn't really sure why it made me nervous to be alone with him like this, the two of us leaning back against the same small area of brick wall, looking out at the cold night.

"Nice to see you too doctor" was all I could muster, I was drunk enough that I let my sarcastic tone leap out, "you can relax, I'm just trying to get some fresh air, it's too stuffy in there, and loud. I'm not here to talk to you or anything."

"Well aren't you a sensitive thing" he responds in kind, at that point I wasn't really sure if it was a coincidence or if he'd been genuinely avoiding me, but things were starting to clear up.

"I'm sensitive, that's a fun take on things" I joke, taking a long sip of cold water from my glass.

"And what's that supposed to mean, newbie?" his emphasis on the last word all but confirms my suspicions.

"Fuck man, what's your problem with me? Is it because I'm new, or because I beat your stupid record?" I quip. hoping that at the very least it might coax him out of his shell. Dr. Spencer Reid getting angry at me could honestly be better than the nothing I'd been experiencing from him until now.

"What stupid record?" he sounds genuinely confused

"I'm the youngest BAU recruit now?" I didn't know why else he could be so sour. He'd never met me before last week, and since he'd ignored me that first day I'd done all I could not to step on his toes. So if he had a reason to hate me this much, it wasn't something I'd done on purpose.

He takes a few moments to respond, raising his eyebrows and considering the information. He chuckles. He fucking chuckles.

"That's funny." he says, his voice leveling out, "I didn't peg you as funny newbie" that word sets something off in me again. Something about it is dismissive, or belittling. Before I could fight back he starts to move, maneuvering around me and heading back inside. A little too tipsy to think of anything constructive to say, I just mutter "Fuck you Spencer."

He swings open the door, as he walks inside he just says "See you Monday, Newbie" without even looking at me.

And that was only the beginning.

----

"You know I'm just trying to make sure you get enough rest sweetheart. There's no need to get so defensive!" it was far too early in the morning to be dealing with this call. Since joining the BAU a few years ago this was a standard call from my Mom. Equal parts well meaning and over-bearing, and generally asking far too many questions.

"I'm not getting defensive Mom, I get plenty of rest, my job is just very important to me and you know that." I knew she was right to be at least a little worried, this job was consuming, and in all honesty I wasn't sure how people like JJ were married and still here. It seemed like an impossible feat.

"Fine sweetie, how are your co-workers doing then? How's Penelope? Give her my love" she loved Penelope, I think she thought that Penelope tethered me to the normal world, and in a way she was right. She kept me sane, and fun, and made me eat pizza and do face masks once a week at least. Even when I didn't think I wanted to.

"Pen's great Mom, everyone's good. Well, the usual ones get on my nerves, but I'm fine." As I say it I glance across at Dr. Reid, the only person who's also in as early as I am most days. I'm not sure if he can hear me but he's tapping his pen so loud on his desk that it takes all of my energy not to walk across the bullpen and stab him with it.

"Y'know what Mom, I'm actually just after getting to work and it's a busy day so can I call you back later?" I chance, getting her off the phone is always an ordeal.

"Fine, fine, I'll let you go. But wait one last thing!"

I knew what was coming. It was always coming.

"Are you seeing anyone, Margot's been wondering too, just thought I'd check in?"

Pinching the bridge of my nose and trying not to scream down the line, I just sigh out the frustration instead.

"No Mom, believe it or not, I've made no progress on that front since you asked me all of 3 days ago."

"See you are being defensive!" she snaps

"I gotta go, bye Mom. Love you!" I say, hanging up quickly before dropping my head down into my arms on my desk, resting like that for a few moments in silence.

Hearing Garica chuckle behind my ear I perk up and spin around. She's holding a small paper cup of coffee and hands it to me. I look at it confused, "Sorry about the paper, I couldn't find your mug in the cabinet" she apologizes, looking over at Dr. Reid and rolling her eyes. Now I know he can hear me from his seat, he takes that moment to sip from my mug and place it gently back on his desk.

It hadn't taken long for him to start toying with me. It was always stupid childish things. Things I couldn't get genuinely annoyed at, that would give him far too much satisfaction, knowing he was getting to me in any real way. This was one trick he liked to play if he got into the office before me, he'd take my mug and make his coffee in it, just to spite me I guess.

"Why does he even do that, it's so stale" she said, just a little louder than normal to make sure he could hear. Garcia and Reid were still good friends and team-mates but she liked to stand up for me when she could. He liked to avoid me as much as possible so he'd usually go to Garcia before me if he needed help with something. Even when the two of us were out in the field together. Which was obnoxious but it was just another thing I'd gotten used to over time. And as long as it didn’t interfere with the case I just forced myself to let it go.

"I know it's such low grade bullying isn't it?" I shot back with a chuckle.

"So I'll take it that was Mommy dearest" Penelope gestures to my phone. She knew my Mom, and she knew about her general overbearing energy. I let out a groan thinking about the call again, and the calls that were to come.

"Isn't it always Mommy dearest?" I joke

"So she's still on your ass about the wedding then?" I'm sure Penelope was almost as sick of hearing about it as I was,

"Margot's getting married in like 4 months now, and every time Mom calls there’s just some new hometown loser she wants to set me up with Pen. It's fucking exhausting" I take a sip of the coffee she made me, savoring the bitter taste. She sits down on my desk for a moment, leaning in.

"Honey, did you ever think that if you got out there and found someone, she wouldn't be on your ass at all?" I don't want to think about that, about how she's completely right. All I can do is let out another small groan and lean back down onto my desk.

"Too early Pen" I say, it's muffled by the desk but she gets the message. Hopping up and heading to her own office as some more people start to arrive for the morning.

Leaving me alone to make a start on my paperwork that had built up throughout the week. Fridays were usually slow like this, giving me a little too much time to think. I couldn't shake the thought that my Mom and Penelope were actually right. Maybe I was a bit too invested in the job, and maybe that was a pretty big factor in why my last relationship imploded but I wasn't about to admit that to anyone.

----

After that the day crawls by, thankfully no cases pop up so the weekend might actually be free. Trying to make sure I clear up all of my paperwork takes a little longer than I'd hoped and leaves me alone in the bullpen. It seems like everyone's gone home by the time I've packed up and I'm ready to leave. Which wasn't as out of the ordinary as I'd like it to be really. Everyone else seemed to have somewhere to be on a Friday night.

Waiting for the elevator to arrive my phone started to ring, I could see my Mom's caller ID on the screen. If I just let it go I know she'll call back later, may as well get it out of the way. I take a deep breath in anticipation before I answer.

"Hey what's up?" I answer, stepping inside the elevator as the doors ping open.

"Hi sweetie, I've got good news! Do you remember David? That lovely boy, he helped out your Father that summer in high school?" I know what's coming and rub my temple, trying to stifle the headache I know is coming. As I answer a hand slides between the elevator doors, popping them open again.

Dr. Fucking Reid walks in, and he looks about as happy to see me as I am to see him. I make eye contact and look away just as fast, willing him away with my mind. "Yes Mom, I remember him, why are you telling me this?" I already know the answer but I'm fed up, she still sounds excited when she responds.

"Well you won't believe it! I ran into him at the market this morning and I thought you'd like it if I passed on your phone number to him, maybe for the weddi-" it took all I had not to shout into the receiver, and maybe I would've had the elevator been empty.

"Mom! Jesus!" I have to reign myself in, but I have a bad idea, "You know what, I'm actually sorted. I've got a date lined up now" I'm not sure why I said it with no real plan in place. She sounds even more excited than I've ever heard her.

"Oh my, that's amazing sweetie! That was fast, I can't believe you found one since this morning, it's someone from work so?" she assumes, and I'm just not thinking fast enough to correct her.

"Mmhmm, yeah" I'll figure out the logistics later I rationalize.

"Oh! Is it that boy you're always on about, the one who teases you?" she asks, and her voice is full of joy, and it makes me feel horrible that I'm lying already, and that I'm going to let her down.

"Yup, that's the one, look Mom I gotta go, I'll talk to you later! Night" I blurt out so fast it has to be obvious I'm nervous.

I can hear a stifled chuckle behind me. Fuck. How loud is my phone speaker. Could he hear that. Surely not. But this elevator was completely silent. The doors open and I have to stop myself from running to my car at top speed. Instead I walk out just a little faster than normal, turning around to shoot him a small wave goodbye. And he's got this devious smirk on his face that makes my stomach turn.

Sitting into my car I pull out my phone to text Garcia immediately.

I'm on my way to yours right now. It's urgent.

——

Traffic's light so it takes maybe 10 minutes before I arrive at Garcia's place. My mind's racing and my body takes me there on autopilot. Why did I say any of that, why did I even answer the damn phone. Why did I wave goodbye to Spencer, I never usually did that. Maybe that's why he had that look on his face. Maybe he was just thinking of something funny that happened earlier and it had nothing to do with me at all. That was something he'd do to mess with me for sure.

How was I going to walk this back with my Mom, she was just gonna have more questions that I couldn't answer. Fuck.

Garcia buzzed me up and her door was open for me by the time I got up the stairs. This little purple apartment had become my second home. It was where I spent most of my evenings off, laughing on the same sofa I was collapsing face first into right now. Garcia nestles in beside me and runs her hand over my hair, "Hey sweet pea, what's happening? I don't want to sound too concerned but you're not giving me much to go off? Are you dying, is there drama? You're going to have to tell me what's so urgent before I burst a blood vessel?"

I let out a muffled, "is drahmuh" into the pillow, Garcia shakes my shoulders.

"Sit up babe, damn!" I have to heave myself out of the pillows, sitting upright on the sofa beside her, clutching one of the pillows in my arms.

"It's drama" I repeat,

"Well, out with it then, you know I'll take all the drama I can get! Spill, spill" she rushes me along. I'm already apprehensive, Reid's her coworker too, but if anyone would understand why this was such an issue it was gonna be her.

"Okay, I'm after doing something stupid and I think I really need your advice" I cringe already, thinking back to the elevator, throwing out my words faster, I continue the story, mostly trying to get it over with, "my Mom called again when I was on the way out tonight and she was trying to set me up with this guy, and Reid was there, and I got all flustered, and I told her I had a date already" I throw my head down into the pillow again.

"Wait why was Reid there?" she looks like she's trying to fit puzzle pieces together and she's getting nowhere, "And what's the drama?"

"Shit Garcia, it was in the elevator and it was all quiet, and maybe he heard the call, maybe he didn't but he had this fuckin' look on his stupid face" I can't shake the smug little smirk, it's burned inside my eyelids. Garcia's face falls in what looks like disappointment.

"Ugh Y/N! That's nothing chill out, why does it matter if he heard your call? I know you guys are all weird but none of that is any of his business anyway!" she shoo's her hand in the air, dismissing the whole situation.

"No Garcia, it is his business now" I have to close my eyes when I say it, I can't look at her "I told my Mom that he was my date, well, I didn't say his name or anything, she assumed it was someone from work and so I just agreed, and then she suggested that it was him and then I fucking panicked Pen, I fucked up so bad. What do I do?"

I finally opened my eyes to look up at Garcia. She was sitting in pure silence, pursing her lips in what seemed like contemplation. The puzzle pieces finally slotting together. It's as though a light bulb goes off behind her eyes and she bursts out in fits of laughter. Doubling over on herself before finally taking a few breaths to calm herself down. I'm honestly not sure why she finds the whole thing so funny, she know's how needlessly annoying he's made my life, she's seen it first hand and heard me talk about it over and over again in this very apartment over pizza.

"Garcia, this is not fucking funny! This is serious!" I try to calm her down, I need advice not whatever this is.

"I'm so sorry Y/N, I love you dearly. But this isn't funny, this is hilarious. It's like you're Sandra Bullock in some mid-90's rom com. I love it" I don't love it, in fact I hate it. I nearly snap at her but pull myself back.

"Pen, come on, help me out. What do I do with this, how do I fix it?" I plead.

She stops laughing and pulls out her phone, "Okay, I'm sorry. I'm going to order us a pizza, and we're gonna sort this thing out together, sound good?" I just nod and collapse back into the sofa. I think I feel better now that I've gotten it out in the open.

----

Penelope makes us tea while we wait for the pizza, she keeps lemon & ginger in her cabinet for me, just like I keep mint for her. The warm mug and the steam calm me down. After a few minutes alone to think about it I start to figure it out a little better. I figure I can just lie to my Mom for a while, it might suck but I can pretend for a bit and then make up some excuse as to why he can't come closer to the time. Then I can just bring Garcia instead and everyone's happy. I'm about to float my plan to her there's a knock on her door. I was so caught up that I hadn't really noticed quite how starving I'd gotten. Leaping up of the sofa to grab the door.

I swing it open but it's not the pizza guy. Somehow it's the opposite of the pizza guy, my worst nightmare is on the other side of the door. He must notice my eyes blow completely wide. "Y/N!" he says, more of a statement than a question really, like he's telling himself that he's actually seeing me in the doorway. I'm not as gentle.

"What the fuck are you doing here Reid?!" I can't even disguise my anger. He seems a little flustered, like he's got absolutely no idea how to proceed.

"Um, uh, is Garcia here? I can, um, I can just come back later?" he swallows hard and shakes his head, before I can agree and tell him to get lost Penelope races to the door, pulling it wide open.

"Nope, that won't be necessary Doctor! Come on in, you're right on time sweetheart" she waves him in and he walks past me, his demeanor changing almost instantly. He's smug, like he's won whatever battle this was. And I hate it. Though he's still as confused as me despite the newfound attitude. Reid sits down on the sofa, right where I had been sitting. I bite my tongue and sit on the opposite end.

"Are you okay Garcia?" he asks with a genuine concern, "What's going on, what was the emergency?". He's not stupid, he knows she's not in danger now that he's here. But he wants answers. I don't know that I've ever seen him this confrontational with anyone, well anyone but me. The entire time I’m staring her down as she sits in the armchair opposite the two of us. My keys are in my pocket and my car's right outside. I could just jump up and make a break for it. Escape.

"You know what Doc, you won't believe it but I'm not actually the one with the emergency" she takes a beat, and I'm starting to think that I might understand why people murder other people after all these years, "Y/N has something urgent she needs to talk to you about" she's silent for another moment, and she almost looks giddy, "Actually Spencer, you might already know a little something about the matter already, now that I think about it" she smirks, and it's pure joy.

My keys are in my hand ready to bolt when the doorbell chimes again. "Oh, that'll actually be the pizza this time, if you two will excuse me" she hops up out of the armchair and races to the door, leaving the two of us alone in a horrible silence. The tension is almost too much, I want to speak but I really have no idea what to say, or how to even start saying it. But he starts.

"Y/N what's going on, I feel like I'm out of the loop here? What am I missing?" he asks, and there's something uncharacteristically genuine about the way he says it, but he can't turn to look at me as he speaks. I almost want to let my guard down and just have a conversation but I can’t force myself to do it. "Shut up Reid." is all I mutter, folding my arms across my chest.

He turns sharply on the sofa to face me. "Hey Y/N. Believe it or not I'm about as happy as you with whatever kind of Parent Trap situation Garcia's got going on here. But from what I'm picking up on you've got a problem and I'm supposed to be able to help with it. So do you want to tell me what's going on or not? I can just go?" I can see that there's an anger bubbling right below the surface, threatening to burst. I know I shouldn't but I let him stew in silence for a little too long and he jumps up off the sofa.

"Y'know what, typical" he mutters, rolling his eyes as he says it, "this is all about you." he throws his bag over his shoulders and begins to walk towards the door. Something in me just snaps.

"All about me?! Are you fucking kidding? I've been tip-toeing around you for years, ever since I joined this damn unit!" I shout as Garcia comes back into the room, pizza box and plates in her hands.

"So, who's hungry?" Garcia asks, trying to break the tension, or pretending there's no tension at all. Reid shakes his head in disbelief and rubs his temple before he speaks again, "Actually I was just gonna head out" he gestures to the door, "I'm clearly not wanted here so I'm gonna leave you guys to it." Spencer makes a move to leave but Garcia grabs the strap of his shoulder bag, yanking him back ever so slightly before he really has the chance to escape.

"You are going absolutely nowhere kid" She points back to the sofa, "get back there" she glances to me, staring with far too much intensity. "You too, sit." Her voice is more stern than I've ever heard it, even while we were on a case. I can't help but obey her command and I sit back down on the sofa in silence. Followed by Reid, clearly processing the same uneasy feeling of a serious Penelope.

She sits opposite the two of us again. "Y/N, Spencer, I love the two of you with all of my heart, albeit separately, and I would die for either one of you. But you've got to chill the hell out!" she says it like she's had it bottled up forever. The tension that releases from her as she says it looks euphoric.

She opens up the pizza box and lays it on the coffee table and takes out a slice for herself. Taking a bite she leaves the two of us in stunned silence. Once she finishes the mouthful she turns to me specifically, "Y/N you tell him, or I will." dead serious. And the feeling in my belly is like I've just fallen down an elevator shaft.

My stomach is in knots as I turn to Spencer on the sofa next to me. His face is puzzled and I think I might be able to make out pure terror in his expression. I don't know that I've ever been looked at like this before and my stomach screws up tighter. I have to take a deep breath and I can't believe I'm about to say it. "Fuck it" I have to take another breath almost immediately so I just have to force the rest out, "I don't know if you heard the call I was on while we were in the elevator earlier?" I look up to gauge his reaction and I can see his face relax, and worse than that, one corner of his mouth lifts into a sort of smile. It's a look of pure smug satisfaction and I think I might scream. I have to close my eyes because I really don't think I can look at that face as I say the next part.

"My sister is getting married in a few months and my Mom's been on my ass to find a date for the wedding and she keeps trying to set me up with these losers, so I fucking panicked, and I told her you were my date." by the time the sentence is out my eyes have screwed up so tight it feels like I have to pry them open.

He sits in silence for too long. Thinking, maybe?

"So I'm the boy who teases you then?" he grins. So he did hear. And he did laugh. He looks far too self satisfied. Now he knows he's right. He knows I've talked to my Mom about him, that he's gotten in my head. I can tell from his smile that he's savoring the moment. Mostly because I can't slap the smug smile off his face I drop my head into my hands. In an effort to disappear I guess.

"So," he says, taking a moment, "is that all you wanted to say then?" he asks, lighthearted and obnoxious, back to his usual self. I snap back to reality, shooting my head back up.

"What do you mean is that all?" I throw back genuinely shocked,

"Is that all you had to say Y/N? Can I go now? It's a long bus ride home y'know" he smirks but makes no effort to move. He can't possibly be making me do this.

"Well no, obviously!" I stutter, "I mean, are you, will you, uh?" I can't bring myself to say it out loud. He leans in on the sofa looking directly at me, refusing to break eye contact.

"Did you have something you wanted to ask me Y/N?" I just want to smack that fucking look off his face,

"Fuck you Spencer Reid" I almost whisper under my breath, but Garcia snaps me back to reality.

"Hey!" she looks at me, stern again, "Ask him." it's not a question, or a suggestion, it's a command.

"Fine okay" I scrunch my eyes up again, "Will you come to my sisters wedding with me as my fake boyfriend?" I curl up into myself as I say it, I can almost feel the bile rising up from my stomach. Like I'm having a biological reaction to the whole thing.

Reid crosses his arms and sinks back on the sofa, like he's performing the act of thinking. He's considering my offer to make me squirm.

When he finally speaks he says "Well I would Y/N, but I really fail to see what's in it for me" he's after getting cocky now.

Garcia pipes up, excited, "Oh, Oh! I know! I have an idea!" she interjects, "Spencer remember how a while ago, back after your apartment flooded you were all all worried about your antique books and prints and stuff?" he nods, "Well Y/N could digitize the collection for you as a back up? I know you're a technophobe? C'mon Y/N, you know you could do that no sweat, and it would take you a lifetime alone Spencer?" I really don't want to admit it but she's right. Even I knew Reid was adverse to any technology that wasn't vital, but it was your specialty. And maybe that was a good trade off, a job like that would be near impossible for him to pull off without help. I take a glance over at Reid and he seems to have had the same train of thought as me. He lets out an exaggerated sigh and relaxes his posture.

"Fine, I guess that's a fair trade. I'm in." he resigns and I almost can't believe it. I'm barely processing the whole conversation as he sticks his hand out to me, I'm confused for a second before I grab it and shake it firmly. Condemning myself to whatever's about to happen. And it's not the time to be thinking about it but maybe this is the first time Spencer and I have ever touched? But I shove that thought away.

Garcia's positively beaming and she's not even trying to hide it. "Now it's like you're both in a Sandra Bullock movie, oh, but you're Hugh Grant maybe?" she points to Reid.

"Don't push it" I shoot in her direction, taking a slice of pizza, now that my anxiety stomach has sort of passed.

Once the pizza's been eaten in near completely awkward silence Spencer stands up off the sofa. His unsure demeanor has returned and he looks nervous. "I actually should get going this time" he says but Garcia pipes up to protest,

"No, it's not even late!"

"It takes me a while to get back home, thank you though Pen. For... this?" he gestures to the whole living room, "Night" he waves. He's almost made it to the door before I stand up out of my seat. I'm not really sure what comes over me, maybe it's gratitude, maybe it's guilt, or maybe I'm just exhausted.

"Wait Spencer. Let me give you a ride home?" I ask and it's like it's not even me saying it .

"Thanks, but I think I can make it home just fine" he dismisses, and there’s an antagonizing tone in his voice that snaps me right back to our usual rapport.

"I'm trying to do a nice thing here, fuck! Just let me do something nice!" I snap, and he throws his arms up in surrender.

"Fine alright, if it'll make you feel better"

"Fuck you Reid" I mutter under my breath and I sort of hope that he does hear me really. If he's gonna be hostile about this I can be too. I give Garcia a hug goodbye but I'm going to scold her for this whole thing later.

----

I lead the way outside and climb into my car, Spencer hops into the passenger seat and it feels as strange as always to be alone with him. Especially because it's not an accident, and it's not in work. Maybe this was a horrible idea. He seems like he's unwilling to break the silence, so I just get it over with.

"Where the hell do you live man? I'm gonna need directions." I say, as deadpan as I can muster, which probably isn't all that intimidating.

"Sorry, yeah, so you're gonna want to turn on the ignition" he teases. I definitely wasn't intimidating enough.

"Don't push it" I say, turning to give him a cruel stare, he just reacts with a smirk, that same one from the elevator earlier.

"Oh, I'm pushing it?" he asks, feigning disbelief

"I'll kick you out of this damn car" is all I can think to say. He barely responds, he just lets out a soft chuckle. I want to ask 'what's so funny' but he speaks before I can get the words out.

"I can't believe you talk to your Mom about me" he continues to laugh. That's enough.

"You know what Reid, of course I have! I work with actual murderers on a daily basis and somehow you've been the only real source of friction in my life since I joined the BAU!" He stops giggling a little, but not entirely, he looks like he's making an effort to contain himself.

"I'm sorry. I guess I just never knew I got to you like that" he still finds the whole thing amusing, but I sure as hell don't.

"Directions, now" I demand, looking straight out the front windshield.

"Fine, keep going straight on this road for a while and I'll tell you when to turn" he says, finally playing nice.

The two of us drive silently for most of the journey, the radio playing softly in the background. Eventually we arrive outside his building, and it's nicer than I thought it would be. But I have no idea what I was really basing that on. For some reason it hadn't occurred to me that Dr. Reid lived in an actual home, I had pictured him sleeping upside down in a cave maybe, or in a cryogenic chamber with all the other life-like genius robots.

"So," he says, breaking the silence, "When is this wedding?"

"4 months from now, in and around" I respond, matter of factly. Spencer nods, taking it in.

"Alright, so I've got 4 months, in and around, to learn enough to convincingly pass as your loving boyfriend. Doesn't sound so difficult." he jokes, his tone harsh and sarcastic.

"Look Spencer, I know this is insane and honestly kind of stupid. But in all seriousness, you can back out right now if you're not on board with whatever this is. I'm telling you this is the last exit ramp." I try to say it with sincerity, giving him a genuine out if he's not comfortable with the weird set-up that Penelope pulled on us both. He thinks on it for a moment and shakes his head.

"So how are we gonna do this?" he asks, and I really thought he was going to back out. So I don't have an actual answer.

"Well, I uh, I haven't really given a plan much thought. How about I come over and start working on some of the stuff you want digitized like Garcia mentioned and I can use the time to give you the footnotes on my life?" I suggest, at least that would make it easier to knock things out all at once. Rather than having to spend even more of my free time with Reid than necessary. He looks content with the improvised plan.

"Alright, sounds good." he undoes his seatbelt and opens the door to hop out of the car before turning back to me, "Are you coming inside or what?"

— —

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aficwhore · 3 years

Text

Truth Is

Chapter 1: A Night Many Months Ago

Frankie "Catfish" Morales x F!reader

Summary: When reuniting for the mission in Colombia, Frankie and the reader (nicknamed "Chipmunk"), bicker due to their rocky past. After some angry exchanges, a few truths come out, changing both of their perspectives. Will the relationship be mended? Or once this is over, will they go back to the way things were before?

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: explicit language, blood, violence, guns/weapons, lots of angst and emotions, infidelity, talk of sex and sexual encounters, drinking, mentions of drugs, talk of death, and talk of mental health(PTSD, depression).

A/N: This was inspired by the song "Truth Is" by Sabrina Claudio. I want to make this a series (my first series ever), but it's still being decided, so please let me know if you want this to be continued! And I am still taking requests and prompts! Thanks Lovelies <3

"Cmon, please Chip, we can't do this without you." Santiago begged, his hands clasped together in front of him to show his desperation as he stood before me in my small apartment kitchen. I sighed, glancing around our surroundings. He had come to ask about joining one last escapade, one last job and we'd all be set for the rest of our lives.

Finally breaking the silence and meeting his weary gaze, "Who all have you rounded up? If Will or Benny said no, there's no way I'm doing it without them." I took another deep breath, turning to continue the dishes I had been doing when Pope showed up.

Santi's face began to light up, his stance growing slightly as he grinned, "Great! They both wanted in, so did Tom." Seeming relieved he leaned against the counter next to the sink and crossed his arms.

"And F-Fish?" I hesitated, pausing the scrubbing on the porcelain dish in my hand. It felt like the air in my lungs no longer existed. My heart began to pound it's way up my throat and into my ears.

His head dipped down, feeling the concern laced in my voice. Clearing his voice, he quietly explained "Haven't asked him yet, he was last on my list."

I silently placed the last dish onto the rack near the sink and wiped my wet hands on my jeans, looking down and watching the wet marks gradually making themselves known. No longer forcing myself to make eye contact, I nodded at the ground.

"Look, querida, if you two just talked I'm sure it would work out." He pushed himself off the counter and stepped towards me, reaching a hand out and gently rubbing my shoulder to console me. "But don't let this change your mind, we really do need you."

"When are you going to mention it to him?" I breathed out, wanting to keep any and all emotions at bay. His hand on my arm squeezed, as if he was trying to give me some courage.

"Tonight, at Benny's fight, I thought his spirits would be up enough to persuade him." He chuckled lightly, knowing his plan was to take a little bit of advantage of Frankie's mood.

I laughed softly, "Definitely sounds like a Santi move if you ask me."

He smirked and shook his head "I know, shame on me." As he dropped his hand back to his side he quirked, "You should come tonight, we can go out for drinks after the fight, relax a little before we leave tomorrow."

It took me a second to register what he said, but when I did I burst out "wait what?! Tomorrow? Santi, why didn't you tell me that? You forgot the biggest detail!"

He cowered down slightly, rubbing the back of his neck "Because I knew you'd yell at me, it was worth a shot putting off the anger a little longer." He smiled coyly.

Rolling my eyes I couldn't help but forgive his dumb smile. "Well it starts soon, why don't I get my things real quick and we can head to the arena together?"

His smile widened, "Of course!" I grabbed my purse and keys, making sure to turn off the lights and lock the door behind me. As we made our way down the elevator and out to his car, Santi told me a few details about the missions and the plan. But once we got into his rinky dink ford truck, I turned to him.

"About Frankie, I'm sure one of the boys told you, but just in case; his license was revoked." Santi's face contorted with confusion.

"What? How? Did he crash or hurt somebody?" He questioned quickly.

After taking a breath of courage I spoke, "No Pope. He-He was caught with coke."

Santi stayed quiet, turning the engine on. "I don't get it" A sad expression plastered on his face.

With a furrow in my brow I spoke again, "What don't you get? He was doing drugs, hardcore ones at that". I began to ramble more, "For what reason, I'm not sure, maybe the PTSD and depression. Maybe he felt he had no one to go to-"

"Stop. I know." He cut me off while finally shifting the gear into drive and moving up forward. "You can't blame anyone for this. All we can do is move on and help him. He's our friend, okay? But I know he's still the same Fish, just a little turned around."

"I know, okay. I can't help it. From what the boys told me, he seems to be a lot better." I added, stirring in my seat. "Anyways, it's been awhile since all of us have been back together. It's exciting."

Santi snickered, "But didn't you all hang out while I've been out of the U.S.?"

Seeing that we're close to the arena's parking garage I explained, "I mean, yea, but only me, Ironhead, Benny and Fish. I haven't talked to Redfly in months, we all had a fallout with him. Especially me."

"Tom didn't say anything when I talked to him, Do you wanna fill me in?" He asked with a quirked eyebrow.

Huffing, I turn to face him, telling him the events of that night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~flashback~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The four of us, the Millers, Frankie and I sat on my couch, watching TV and talking, when we hear a bang at the door. I got up to open it and find Tom slumped on the doorway. He looked rough and smelled like he had been drinking the past several days. "Woah, Tom, you're really drunk, and you drove here?"

He snapped, beginning to yell, "Who are you to judge me? Huh? My wife left me, this is how I cope." He angrily pushed his way past me and tumbled into the living room. He was greeted with the boys standing around him with concerned faces.

"What the hell were you thinking? You know how dangerous that is? You know you could've called and we would've been there for you!" I raised my voice back, causing Tom to swing around to face me.

He laughed darkly, "Oh shut up 'Miss Perfect,' just like you did for Fish? When he was nose deep in coke? Or are you too self obsessed? Or do you just have favorites!"

"Hey man, that's not cool." Will interrupted and tried to get a handle on Tom. Frankie lowered his head in embarrassment. Will reached forward and placed a hand on his back, but things escalated more.

"Oh okay, yea protect the whore, we all know she's there for you guys more than just talking. I wouldn't doubt it if you all fucked her too. But me? Nah, you leave me out of everything." Tom howled, yanking away from Will and slurring his words and no longer making sense.

Anger becoming more prominent, I spoke, "Seriously?! Whore?! How is it my fault that you push us away and don't let us help? We include you in everything, but you have your head so far stuck up your ass you never show up!" I've come face to face with him, my hot breath and voice blowing into his face above me. "And another thing, I'm not a whore, you asshole, I'm with Frankie!"

He leaned closer to me, his breath reeking of alcohol, "Just him? Does he know where you're at everyday Monday and Wednesday at 1?! I doubt it!"

Frankie speaks up, "What? What is he talking about?" A devilish smirk makes its way to Tom's face.

"Nothing, I swear it's nothing." I try to explain, making eye contact with my partially hurt lover.

"Tell him, tell him you've been seeing a 'Dr. Philips.' Go on, do it." He rubs it in.

Looking behind Tom, I saw Frankie looking like his world had just shattered. "You've been seeing someone?!"

Panicking, I speak, "Yes, but it's not what you think, I promise!"

"Then what is it?" Tom adds, stumbling back a foot and crossing his arms contently at the damage he just caused.

Benny spoke up, knowing the truth about who I was "seeing." "You need to leave man, you have no right to say shit like that. You don't know the real situation"

Tom burst, yelling "I want her to admit it! I want her to admit that she isn't the perfect bitch she makes herself out to be!"

"Fuck you! Get the hell out of my house!" I scream, tears slightly welling in my eyes. "Frankie-" I turn to him, but to find him grabbing his things. "Baby please, let me explain."

"Explain what? You've been cheating on me?" his voice is loud, and cracks slightly.

A tear breaks its way down my cheek, "I haven't, Frankie, please believe me." I grab his hand, trying to stall his movements, but he pulls away.

"You just admitted it!" He frowns and yanks his hand away and heads for the door.

"That's right Fishie boy! Leave her, she's no good anyway!" Tom squawks as Benny grabs a hold of him and shoves him to the door, Will right behind to help.

"You bastard!" I lunged forward and swung my hand, landing right on the side of his face with a loud crack. Frankie spun around, startled at my actions.

The action only fueled Tom's anger because he ripped away from Benny's grip and grabbed me. I didn't back down and started to shove him and swing my arms, hitting him in the face and chest as he fought back.

But just as quickly as the fight started, it ended. Frankie tore me off of Tom, pinning me to his chest and stopping my brutal hits. Will and Benny wrested Tom into submission and dragged him out of the front door as he yelled slurs at me, and dumped him outside with a battered face.

While the brothers were dealing with a drunk Redfly, Frankie scolded and verbally fought with me.

"Just tell me! Who is Dr. Philips!" He questioned, slightly shaking me by the shoulders.

With many emotions running through my head, I couldn't process what was going on. "I-I can't, Frankie, I can't even admit it to myself." Tears streaming down my face I brought my hands up to the sides of his face. "But you have to believe me, por favor (please)."

Francisco looked like he was fighting an emotional battle in his mind. He finally spoke, "Either you tell me, or I leave, I can't do this, not if you keep things from me."

Feeling my heart break, I whispered "Please, mi amor (my love), don't make me. I'm not strong enough." My eyes now running like an open faucet and my hands tightly pressed to his cheeks.

He blinks away tears, reaching his hands up to grab mine and pull them away from his face, "Then I have to go." He drops my hands and turns to leave.

"Por favor no me dejes! (Please don't leave me)" I call after him, watching as he heads out of the door and into the night, leaving me alone. I drop to the floor, tears blurring my vision and all that can be heard are my sobs.

After what feels like hours, Will and Benny return, picking me up off the floor and taking me to my bed. They lay me down, attempting to help my emotional breakdown. They pick up whatever mess that was left after the event of that night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~end flashback~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"And after that night, Tom was no longer invited anywhere with us. Frankie distanced himself and refused to talk to me. But Will and Benny did their best to be there for me in any way they could. They did the same for Frankie. But as for Tom, they casted him out, because he changed, badly." I finished covering the story of that night, fighting the tears that threatened to spill. "And the Dr. Philips I was seeing, was my therapist. I didn't want anyone to know I wasn't okay mentally. I was embarrassed and part of me didn't want to admit I needed help. The lives we chose aren't easy."

Santi parked, and seemed shocked, "I'm sorry love, I knew you split with Fish, but didn't know any details or about Tom." He reached over and patted my thigh sympathetically. "I really am sorry that you went through all of that because Tom was an asshole. You really don't have to do this-"

"No I want to, I'm in a better place, so is everyone else." I smiled shyly, wanting to lift the spirits. "So what do you say? Let's go wrangle up our boys and get rich?"

Pope smiled brightly, "Hell yes!" We both got out of the car, and headed to the back of the arena and knocked, hoping Will was there to open it like he told Santi he would. Much to our luck, the door swung open to reveal a tall, smiling, blonde Miller brother.

"Brother!" Santi chuckled as he pulled the eldest Miller into a hug, clapping each other on the back. They pulled away as Pope headed inside to find the others.

"Hey pretty girl, long time no see." Will joked, hugging me tightly.

I scoffed, "Will, you were just at my house last night." We both laughed and he led me into a rank smelling locker room, which I assumed was for Benny to get ready. As we rounded the corner, I saw Benny and Tom chatting on one of the benches between the lockers.

"Chipmunk!" Benny roared as he ran over, picked me up and spun me around. "I missed you! I'm so glad you could make it!" He sat me back down and stepped back to sit on the bench again.

"Of course, I wouldn't miss you getting your ass beat for the world!" I giggled as I winked at him, showing the younger of us a bit of love.

He shook his head with a grin. As my eyes left him, they met with the eyes of Tom. He seemed to have a look of regret, trying to give me a sad smile.

I walked over to him, reaching my hand in a fist forward, lightly tapping his shoulder, "Hey fly, how you been?"

A small wave of relief washed over him as he responded "I'm good Chip, how are you? And look I'm really sorry, I wasn't in a good place and I regret-"

"Its okay Tom, really, it is. I'm just glad you're better. It's water under the bridge." I sit next to him and pat his back, showing that all, or at least most, is forgiven.

He nods slowly, "Thank you, it means a lot that you're here."

"Oh cmon you have to admit it, you couldn't do it without me, the best there is." I pretend to act over confident and burst into laughter. And Tom joins in.

As Tom and I begin to catch up, talking about what we've missed these past several months, I overhear a conversation.

"Hermano (brother)! How are you?" Santi greets Frankie, I assume, he was the last of us, who wasn't already here. When I realize that it is him, my heart begins to race. My skin starts to burn and get hot, my palms becoming sweaty.

"Pope! Benny! Ironhead! What is this, a reunion?" Frankie's voice echoes as they come closer. As the three round the corner, "All we need is Redfly and Chip-" Frankie stops as we become revealed to him. Tom gets up immediately and struts over to give Fish a hug. Frankie's face lights up with glee and hugs him back. When they step away from each other, I wearily stand up and all he does is give an awkward smile and nods in my direction.

Benny attempts to whisper to Santi, "Ouch, that's cold." And Santi jabs him in the stomach with his elbow, causing him to double over and make a "hmf" sound.

Being slightly hurt, I break the uneasy tension by opening an invitation, "Alright well I'm gonna go get a beer and find us some good seats, it's close to showtime!" Faking a smile I continue, "Who's coming?"

"Me, I can't be in here with this doofus anymore." Will chuckle as he ruffles Ben's hair and follows right behind me.

When we make it to the concession stand and order beers, Will taps my arm, "How are you feeling?"

With a sigh, "Honestly I expected that, but it hurt more when it actually happened. But what can I say." I grab out drinks from the concession worker and thank her and turn on my heels to find a seat. "I love him, and if that means waiting to mend things, it worth it, even if it means waiting forever."

Will offers a sympathetic grin. "It'll work, just watch. Oh! Over there! Perfect seats!" He points as his attention was caught by an opening near the rink. He pursues it as I follow behind.

While we sit, we joke around, waiting for the rest of the gang to come sit and watch Benny get thrown around. Finally the last three show up and sit with us, Tom sat on Will's right side, me on his other side, Santi on my left, but when Frankie walks up, he bends down and whispers to Santi, causing him to scoot further away from me and leaving room for Frankie to slot himself between us. Which took me by surprise. Once he was seated, he glanced over to me and gave me a genuine smile.

We don't say a word as the lights begin to dim and the announcer's voice breaks through the speaks, introducing our dear Benny and his opponent.

Our small group starts to cheer and scream Benny's name, to show him support. As he enters the rink, he searches for us, and when he finds us, he smiles big.

In the midst of all the commotion, Frankie leans over and whispers to me, "I missed you, cariño (sweetheart)."

My face whips around to meet a very close Fish, who is smiling. "I missed you too." I give a small smile and lean to my side to shoulder bump him, as he places a hand on my knee.

#frankie morales x reader #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales x f!reader #pedro pascal x reader #triple frontier #triple frontier x reader #frankie morales #Pedro pascal #santiago garcia x reader #william miller x reader #benny miller x reader #tom davis x reader #angst #frankie morales angst

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wendystales · 3 years

Text

Memories - lrh (Chapter Seventeen)

Memories (also on Wattpad)

Chapter Sixteen ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ Chapter Eighteen

Marnie pov.

I don't know if it was hangover or guilt, but my head was weighing a ton the morning after the party. Unlike everyone, I didn't wake up in a good mood, in fact I was pretty quiet at breakfast. Lucky for me, no one suspected anything, as the hangover gripped everyone there.

As yesterday was still Saturday and most had to work, I didn't have to run away from anyone. Since my plan had been in action since Monday, I took the day off to start packing up some things, trying to get everything as ready as possible.

For today, I had left only the final adjustments, like packing my suitcase and getting ready for my conversation with Luke.

The pain in my throat becomes more and more unbearable every time I hold back the cry. I fold up one of the band sweatshirts I have, watching the boys' faces, wanting to reinforce why I'm doing this.

I run my finger over Luke's face, as if I'm touching him. Friday's flashes flood my mind and I scold myself for nearly screwing it up out of sheer desire. Of course I wanted it as much as he did. Feel his touch, the desire and love he manages to emanate so naturally. I don't think I've ever felt so alive and so amazing in anyone's arms as in his, but it couldn't happen.

The doorbell snaps me out of my thoughts. I hurry downstairs, thinking it's Martin with the paperwork.

“Noah?" I give my friend room to enter. "Aren't you supposed to be at that lunch?" I check my watch and check the time, 1:37 PM. “Noah?” I call him, wondering at his frown.

"I wanted to come talk to you directly so we don't have any misunderstandings and to see if that way I can understand what this should mean." he hands me a folder. I open it quickly feeling my blood pressure drop. It was the paperwork I was waiting for. "What's this about moving to New York?"

"How did this get to you?" I try to control my breathing and head into the living room, feeling the urge to sit down. I start to think of a million excuses and ways not to have this conversation since it wasn't part of my plan.

“In case you also forgot, I work at the company. I am the owner's son and above that I am your advisor, everything that happens to you must pass through me at some point. Now tell me what this story is." I don't think I've ever seen Noah this angry.

“I received a job offer and decided to accept.” I know my voice has cracked, but I pray he doesn't notice. Noah stares at me for a few seconds with a more confused and displeased expression.

“I've known you for two years. You're going to have to try harder if you want to deceive me. Marnie, you just signed a rehearsal contract here in LA. If you got a proposal, you would know from me. Does this have to do with the fact that you're weird these days? What? Did you go without saying anything to anyone? That's it?” I remain silent, feeling everything go downhill from there. Slowly, a fury starts to build inside me. “Marnie, what's going on?”

It's not just the countless times I've heard this question throughout the week. I believe it's because I'm not in control of anything right now. About me being forced to do all this, not being able to tell my friend what's going on. All of this makes the question so much bigger and deeper than it really is. And it makes the fury that's brewing inside me grow.

“My God! Nothing! It's not happening anything. What a bag!” the scream breaks my mouth, coming out louder and angrier than I expected. “I am fine! When are you going to understand this?” he doesn't seem to be frightened by my scream, just standing there with his arms crossed and expressionless.

"Maybe when you stop lying and tell me what's going on?" he makes fun of me. A cynical laugh comes out of me as I go to open the door and ask him to leave my apartment. “You weren't like that, Marnie." I get irritated again. I can't explain where so much anger comes from, let alone contain it.

“Surprise, Noah, I'm like that. This is Marnie and always has been. Now if you don't like her, I can't do anything. Your ‘Marnie’ is gone and it's just me. And I'm going to New York whether you like it or not.” along with the anger, I feel like crying, but once again, I hold back with all my strength.

Noah nodded thoughtfully. I know it's a scene, that he's going to attack me again, he's just choosing his words.

“Then that's it? You mess it up, make everyone believe that everything is fine, and leave without warning. Is that what you're going to do?” the judgmental look bothers me.

"I didn't mess anything up."

“No?” he laughs falsely. "I don't say for myself or for the girls, but haven't you been giving a certain someone hope, making him believe you could get back together? And now you're going to go away and let him suffer without caring?” he raises his eyebrows.

I suck in the air harder, making it burn. The fire burns stronger inside me. The desire at the moment is to break everything.

“Do not do it.” my voice breaks. I close my eyes, pulling myself together. “Do not do it! Don't think I'm not suffering from having to make this decision either.” I can't hold back the tears, not caring about them anymore either.

“You're? Cuz it doesn't look like.” I close my hands, squeezing them tightly. I try to control the urge to scream, scream in hate, in anger, in pain and most of all, scream that he is being unfair to me.

“Of course I'm suffering.” once again I scream. "Do you think not?! Look at me! Do you think it doesn't hurt me to have to do all this?! Leave him here like this and not be able to do anything?! Of course it hurts. Why do you think I'm doing all this?! Because I love him! I love more than one day I thought it was possible to love someone. I'm doing it for him. But there's no easy way to do this, I don't have a choice.”

“Everyone has a choice, Marnie, you're just choosing the one you find easiest.”

"Does this sound easy to you?" I interrupt him, opening my arms, showing me. I dry my tears exhausted. “I made my choice and I appreciate if you respect. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to finish packing my bags.” I open the door for him.

My friend doesn't say anything else, just heads towards the door.

“Feel free to share my plan with the others.” I say tough.

“No! I will not do that. You made your decision, you did the shit and now deal with it.” Noah doesn't even wait for the elevator, taking the stairs.

I slam the door, feeling that anger still burn inside me. I rest my eyes on the wall where my photo is. I go to it, pulling out the wallpaper, tearing off part of the image. I'm not mad at Noah, I'm mad at myself, at the way it all went and where I went.

If I weren't a model, I could be living my life without any problems. Luke would still be the guy in the band I only knew one song about. I would be happy and free from all that pressure.

Still needing to release that anger, I grabbed the flower pots near the door, throwing what was left of my image against. My throat hurts from sobs and my heart clenches when that feeling arises.

““Wait, there's an eyelash.” I say to Luke, trying to catch it. “OK! Make a wish.” I lift my little finger at him.

He was about to take the stage at the Capital Summertime Ball. Luke stares at my finger thoughtfully and smiles, apparently determined.

“Be my girlfriend?” he sounds curious. I stare at his amused face, making sure he's kidding me.

“I'm serious.” I push his shoulder with another hand. I gasp when I see Luke kneel down with the guitar.

“Me too.” he shrugs. I start to laugh nervously, covering my face but careful not to lose my eyelash. I can hear the muffled laughter of the boys beside us, just wanting to hit each one of them.

“You need to blow to see if your wish comes true.” I say, already knowing my answer and I suspect he does too. Luke stands up blowing his flying eyelash.

"Boys, it's you, come in." a production guy yells, already pushing Ashton onto the stage, who is followed by Calum.

Quickly, I grab Luke's face, like I always did before he took the stage.

“Yes!” I give him a peck, watching him smile. Luke hugs me, stealing another kiss, running up onto the stage happily.

“This was definitely the cutest, most improvised request I've ever seen.” I open an even bigger smile, hearing Ryan beside me. I lay my head on his shoulder, swallowing the happy cry I wanted to let out.””

I don't know how long I sat staring at my torn photo, with a horrible pain in my chest. I hug my knees like the coward I am, not wanting to accept that the time has come.

Luke pov.

I jot down one more note in the melody I'm creating. The idea came up in the morning and if I didn't work on it now, I would forget. I go back to playing the piano following the sequence, when the bell interrupts me.

Petunia doesn't even make an effort to get up, remaining on the couch, snoring.

I open the door feeling my heart race. Marnie was standing there with a serious expression. I conclude that she came to tell me what was going on and I am relieved that I will finally understand what is happening.

“Can we talk?" I'm surprised by the hard look.

I make room for her, who goes straight to the living room, standing in the middle. I let a weak smile emerge, remembering all the times she's done this. I stop a little away, giving space, because I know how important this is to her at these times.

"I believe you came to tell me what's going on." I keep my hands in my pants pockets. M&Ms nodded.

"I came to break whatever we have." I don't know how to react. In fact, I'm not sure I got it right. “Look I tried, I really tried, but…”

“I'm sorry, what?”

For a second, I wonder how I got back to two years ago, where we had these fights almost daily. Where we were too dumb to want to accept. If it weren't for the pink hair, I would be convinced that it would be 2018 again.

“I tried to feel something for you, but I couldn't. And there's nothing I can do.”

I stare at Marnie, confused. I replay the past few weeks in my mind, all our moments together, and I can't believe a single word she says. I know everything was real. Every smile and laugh, every flushed cheek, every look and especially every kiss. Come back to Friday. How can she say there was nothing there?

“You gotta be kidding me. After all we've been through this month, do you have the courage to try to say you didn't feel anything?” my tone rises.

It doesn't make any sense. Her speech, her request not to forget that she likes me and today this? The pieces don't come together.

“Sorry. But I can't go on with this anymore.” I can see your gaze looking around the room. She's lying, why is she lying? For me on top.

“Why are you doing this?” Marnie looks at me confused.

"Because I'm tired of carrying this…”

“No! Why are you lying to me?” her eyes roll. I get close enough to be able to hear and notice her breathing.

"I have no reason to lie to you. If you can't accept that a girl doesn't like you, that's your business.” she passes me at the mention of leaving. But I hold your arm.

"So Friday was my hallucination? The two of us in the bedroom. You on my lap. All that desire and lust, was it a dream of mine?” your pupils dilate.

I can see she's thinking right now, can feel her pulse increase. She felt something, all this time, she felt something. I don't know if it's that insecurity from the beginning, the fear of getting involved, of getting hurt that always kept her away from me. The fear that I would be like him.

“I drank a lot.” her voice breaks the silence. I let go, covering my face, laughing indignantly.

“Oh my God, Marnie, why are you doing this? It's clear you're lying to me. Tell me what's going on. Is someone blackmailing you? Threatening you? Is it Stephen? Did he mess with you again?”

“There's nothing going on, Luke. I just don't love you.” she says with her head down.

The sentence cuts through me, causing agonizing pain. I feel my body retract. Your voice comes back in my mind in different tones and shapes, telling me every time you loved me. Whispering, screaming, in normal tones, even the day she swallowed helium gas.

My eyes burn. I don't want to cry in front of her, not out of shame, because I've cried a million times, but out of pride in not accepting that I'm hurt.

“I didn't want to go that far.” her restrained voice hovers over me.

I look at Marnie, not recognizing her. This is not the girl I fell in love with. The girl I spent nights awake just imagining what it would be like to go out with her, what it would be like to hold her hand and see her smile at me. The girl I spent mornings admiring sleeping. That I wrote love letters. That several times made me forget even my name just for saying the same thing. It's not her.

But it's amazing how I still know she's in there, somehow. Maybe Marnie was right that day, she didn't want to feel like an intruder in her own life, but she was.

She herself undid everything we built. Everything we've fought so hard has fallen like a house of cards. The promises made at dawn about our future together, vanish with the wind. I know they weren't empty, but the girl who made them with me isn't here.

“I'm so sorry. I-”

“Say it looking at me.” I stare at her resolutely.

“Don't do that.” she begs in a whisper.

Her eyes flood with despair and I delude myself, even with pain. Her mouth opens several times, but her voice doesn't come out. Her eyes blink several times, trying to ward off the tears that are forming there. I watch her body hold the air.

“What? Weren't you so determined?! So convinced?! Didn't you come here for this?! So say it looking at me, not the walls, like you're doing.” her jaw locks. “Two years ago you came here to look me in the eye and say you wanted to try, you came to ask me for a chance for both of us. So now look into them and say you don't want it anymore.”

Marnie stares at me lost. I pray, I beg her not to make it, for her to give up on this stupid idea. That deep down she says she's afraid to surrender. I wouldn't mind ignoring this fight and pretending nothing happened. Then I would hold her and make her feel like I would protect her from everything, make her feel loved. But my thoughts change and I lose hope when I watch her take off the necklace I gave her.

“I'm sorry.” she puts it in my hand. Right now I don't mind letting the tears fall. I stare at my hands feeling destroyed. Her lips touch my cheek lightly and so she leaves my house and my life.

““What is this?” I open a smile watching her approach, openmouthed. “Luke, what is this all about?” her eyes run over all the details with curiosity.

For a few seconds, I don't know what to say. I lose my breath watching how stunning she looks in this flowery dress with wavy hair. Holy crap.

“Our first date.” I shrug. Marnie breaks into a beautiful smile, making her cheeks blush. The sparkle in your eyes enchants me.

“Luke, when you said a date I swore we were going to a restaurant, I didn't think…” her voice trails off, giving way to a delighted laugh.

"Have I exaggerated?" I approach her, looking at the small tree with scattered lights and the table for two with two candles. "If you say yes, I'll be upset." I make fun of her.

“No! It's perfect, is that… I didn't expect this. Not all of that.” she whispers. "Did you do all this?" she looks at me in surprise.

“Good part. Except the food, the intention is to impress you, not make you run away from me.” I look at her teary eyes and feel amazing for getting it right. She liked.

I take a deep breath, trying to control my breathing and my nervousness. I wanted to leave Marnie speechless, wanted her to make sure I was worth it. And even with all the effort, she managed to leave me speechless yet. My God, how could someone be so beautiful like that? Am I really that lucky to have gotten her attention? I mean, do I deserve her?

“I do not know what to say. Thank you.” I get lost in her eyes, feeling the butterflies in my stomach grow. It couldn't be possible for me to be in love with her that fast already, could it?””

Marnie pov.

Air doesn't reach my lungs, no matter how windy it is. My chest and throat hurt so much my body recoils with every sob. It was like sand in my hand, running through my fingers, I couldn't hold it back.

As torture, I replay the scene in my head again, watching his blue eyes lose their luster and let those tears fall. I wanted to hug him and tell him I was crazy, drunk. That deep down I was completely in love with him, and I didn't even need my memories for that. Luke is so amazing that he managed to win me over again and I believe he could a million times over. I wanted to say that I want him, I want him more than anything, but I can't.

The doorbell pulls me out of my private cell, my mind, prompting me to question whether the bomb had ever gone off. It would probably be Leah or even Ashton, but I don't want to deal with anyone right now. I don't want lectures, I don't want judgments, I just want to stay on the couch until tomorrow when it's my time to go to New York.

I crawl to the door finding the last person I want to see right now. John Letterman has a huge, excited smile, in contrast, my face is red and swollen from crying for the past few hours.

“Hi, Marnie, how are you?” Cursed the day I ran into him at the studio.

“What are you doing here?” John plays offended.

“I just came to ensure that everything is going with our agreement.”

"What does it look like?" I point to my face. “It's all just the way you made me do it.” I turn around, entering the still-destroyed apartment.

"But what happened here?" he looks at the destroyed hall in disgust.

“You, John. Just you and your disgusting manipulation.” John shakes his head laughing.

"I didn't put any gun to your head to accept this. I just showed you the truth, you are destroying the career of 5 seconds of summer. Your person's association is putting their contract and their tour at risk. You're the one who decided to walk away.” he smiles satisfied.

I break eye contact, too exhausted to debate.

“I'm glad you lived up to your part of the deal and I hope this is the last time we've crossed paths.”

"Then we are two."

“But if I hear you're trying to get close to Luke again…” the tone of voice pisses me off.

“I've already done my part, but if you keep pissing me off, I'll go to Luke right now and tell him the whole truth.” I threat, nervous. I try not to show that his laugh makes me confused.

“You know, I missed you, Marnie. That innocence is really funny.” John stops laughing and approaches. "Do you think Luke wants to see you now?! Why do you think I'm here knowing everything?! He already called me, asking me to schedule the trip. He hates you now, Marnie. You broke his heart. I don't care what useless word you say to him, because he won't believe it. Here.” he takes his cell phone out of his jacket. "Want to call him and tell him?! I will help you.” he returns a venomous smile.

“Get out of my house.” I say through teeth.

"What's up, Marnie? Don't be so passionate. After all we are friends.” he makes fun of me.

"I said 'get out of my house.'” I scream, picking up a decorative vase beside me and threatening to throw it at it.

John doesn't look scared, but heads for the door.

“One day you'll thank me, Marnie.” he says before closing the door. I throw the vase, screaming, seeing it crash against the door.

The urge to go to Luke and tell the whole truth becomes much stronger, however, even if I don't want to admit it, John was right, Luke must hate me by now, making everything I say empty. On the other hand, I remember that I'm doing this for him.

I know at any other time, if I knew the band was going through something like that, I would do anything to help. Now, making sure I'm the problem, I want to become the solution and if that meant having to walk away from it then I would, after all their success and happiness could be mine.

I want to have faith that a few years from now, when everything is better, maybe I can get Luke and the others to understand why I'm doing this. Maybe we can even be friends if he doesn't hate me.

I give up, going up to my room for a shower and straight to bed. It's horrible knowing I need sleep to be acceptable for tomorrow, but I can't turn my head off. Even exhausted, I go over every fight I had today. Noah, Luke, and John's voices mingled in my mind, draining me more and more of my energy, but not to the point of putting me to sleep.

The night slowly drags on and the approach of dawn makes an anxiety rise within me. Yesterday they could have held back so they wouldn't come to debate anything, but I doubt that someone won't show up today and, given my state and mood, I'm sure I won't have the strength to fight.

For the few seconds and times I dozed off, I dreamed of the doorbell ringing, of Leah screaming for me to open the door. Finally, when the clock struck a little after five, I decided to get out of bed. Wrapped in the duvet, I walk to the kitchen, making tea. With my drink ready, I walk over to the couch on the balcony, watching the sky clear up for my last day in LA.

Passed morning, I go for a shower with the intention of getting rid of this weight. I lock everything in my room, not knowing when I'll be back. In the closet, I grab Luke's box and pull out my diary and some of our Polaroids. I also take the little white box, carefully storing it in my suitcase.

I walk around the house, closing windows, turning off power and stuff. I don't worry and much less care about the mess I made yesterday, if I ever come back to this apartment, I'll ask for a huge renovation, not wanting to remember anything from that time.

Around 8:00 am, I tell Martin that I want to go to the airport early, wanting to avoid any of my friends or family. I had already talked and said goodbye to my parents before the party. I'm relieved when he says he's on his way.

I take one last look at my apartment, accepting my defeat. I pick up my bags, already going downstairs and moving forward as much as possible to just leave, I just didn't count on Ashton at the front desk of the building

"Ash?" I call him on impulse. My friend turns to me, apparently not at all surprised to see me with my bags.

“Can we talk?” he questions calmly.

“I need to go to the air-” I try to dodge him, but Ash steps in front of me.

“Five minutes. I do not want to fight. I just want to understand you.” he interrupts me.

“You don't understand, Ash.” whisper. “I need to go.”

There's one thing I've always admired about Ashton, that peace he has and emanates. He in no second judges me with his gaze, in fact, this calm almost makes me tell everything, trusting that he would listen to me and believe me. But in seconds this idea loses strength, after all, Luke would not believe me and John could still harm the band.

“You know, I remember the day we met very well. You were the new student in yoga class and I was happy to have someone my age there. We weren't the best students and we talked too much, which caused us to be thrown out of class.” he laughs a little. “But even without that, we became good friends. It is not?”

“Yes,” I whisper, trying to understand where he is going.

“Marnie, I can't explain what was different with you, but I really didn't want to lose touch. I wanted you to be my friend. The problem is, in the end, I took care of you like my little sister. I think I projected that onto you. I've always taken care of Lauren and Harry a lot and I miss them sometimes. I always wanted to and will always protect you, but I need to know exactly what.”

“Ash…” I try to interrupt him but can't.

“I lost you once, in that fucking accident. I lost you to amnesia. I don't want to lose you for a silly thing. Marnie, please just tell me.” he pleads, holding my hands.

It pains me to see him like this. I can see the desperation in his eyes, just as I saw it in Luke's eyes. I know it hurts, but it has to. Ashton was definitely the best friend I've ever had in all my 23 years, I don't need my memory to prove it. Just a conversation with him and I realized our connection. Really, Ashton is the big brother I never had and I'm grateful for that.

Without the strength to want to convince him of the story I had already created, I pull his body to me, hugging my best friend for the last time. He doesn't deny the hug, squeezing me tightly, as if to stop me from going.

“Thanks for everything, Ash. Please don't forget my speech.” I give him a kiss on the cheek, ready to get into the car that has just arrived.

'It wasn't by chance that you and Luke met.” I stop at the door, turning confusing to him. “Ever since I've known you, I've known you'd be perfect for Luke, you're almost the female version of him. I just gave you guys a little push to see each other, because I knew the moment he saw you, he was going to fall in love with you.”

I stare at Ashton for a few more seconds before turning towards the car, feeling the tears wet my cheek once more. I didn't need to be an expert to know that yes, Luke and I were made for each other, but unfortunately, not all soulmates end up together.

I'm so sorry, I know I'm late. I have a undergraduate thesis at the end of the year and I am too busy with it. But I promise not to delay this amazing fic for you anymore. Thank you so much for all the support and affection, you're amazing. Until the next chapter!

P.s. which I will post in a few hours, after all, it's the least I can do after a month of delays. See ya! xoxo

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dalleray · 4 years

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If I hadn't been very good interviewing [Patricia] Highsmith in Aurigeno, there was someone I was downright bad at, and yet it must have been the start of a surprising, singularly charming story: Edwige Feuillère....

I arrive one afternoon at rue de Longchamp in Neuilly. Rather banal building. I get on the elevator, my throat a little tight: I felt her authoritarian. They open the door for me and show me into the living room, I find it a little too pink, a little too sweet. She enters. Not very much makeup on; she wears a funnel neck sweater. Her body no longer has the firmness of my memories. Still, there is the way she carries her head. It's her, but she's an old woman.

Today, I'm sure she saw it all in my eyes in a second. So, she pulled out all the stops. She offers me a seat on a couch and sits next to me, almost thigh to thigh. I move back. She raises her eyebrow and just says: “You are sitting very badly. Lean on the cushions.”

“Sorry, but I can't work like this.” “Okay, I'll take the cushions away.”

And we start. She responds, but very quickly interrupts me and brings her face closer to mine. "Ah, now that I see you with my glasses on… But you have very pretty green eyes," with that voice that makes all screens shudder. I do not know where I am. I pick up the thread as best I can.

“You read my book! You are indeed the first journalist who comes to see me for this book to have read it.”

I stammer. I am getting worse and worse. I bend down to turn on the tape recorder. She lifts my face, touches my hair, on the forehead, to the right. "But you have a strand of white hair. Is it natural or are you doing it on purpose?" There, I feel that I am confused, maybe even that I blush, I flounder, I sink. That’ll teach me to betray that, in her sweater, I couldn't find the one I had placed on a pedestal at all. I'm mad at myself, but at her too. Now she wants me to eat chocolates. And tell me that she is a great reader. As if! I wonder what literature she likes, but I don't feel like digging. I want to go. She goes to get my item of clothing, a black leather jacket and helps me put it on. She runs her hand all the way down my back and says, still her voice, "I love the feel of leather.”

Okay, she's seventy-seven, I'm thirty-three, but she took over and covered me with the ridicule I deserved. Let's run away together.

I was not at the end of my punishment, though. I listen to the tape. I am lamer than lame: I don't raise the right questions, I don't push her to explain, I say totally incongruous things. Nothing to get out of it. Unreliable. And, to make matters worse, she wants to reread before publication. What to do? Meet with close friends to whom I dare not even speak out. Common sense advice, but easy to say: "Try to remember what you wanted to know, what she started to say when she stops and you forget to start her again. Rewrite everything: there will probably not be a word of what's on the tape, but we'll see what she says about it." A whole weekend, for an interview page in Le Monde. And a close reading by my friend Monique Nemer. Questions at last intelligently formulated and answers reconstructed, but perhaps just a bit “off.”

On Monday, the interview is printed. Two hours later, Feuillère on the phone: "My little one, it's absolutely perfect...I've never read an interview so true to who I am.” That’s when I realized she was extremely intelligent.

She offered for me to see her again. She told me about what she read. A very sure taste for literature, the classics—she had not forgotten Claudel's lessons. She was very attached to her hand-annotated edition of Dante's The Divine Comedy in Italian—her father's nationality. She gave it at the end of her life to Hector Bianciotti, whom I introduced to her. But she had a curiosity for everything that was published—I brought her my favorite recent books—and the eclecticism of avid readers. She happily returned to Claudel's side, but discovered with the same interest Philip Roth, who made her want to reread Joseph Roth. Dante would bring her back to Philippe Sollers' side, and she would go back to the Italian side to read Svevo and Elsa Morante. She read the ones I told her about: Eudora Welty, Anna Maria Ortese, Annie Ernaux, Danièle Sallenave. But Highsmith's murky tales seemed too worrying to her. When we went to dinner, I always tried to convince her, to make her love this "black queen” without much success.

When she played at the theater at night, we used to go to lunch. She seduced me in every way—because she liked to seduce, because her conversation was brilliant, humorous, her language sometimes deliciously old-fashioned. One day when I was talking to her about a man, she said to me, “Alors, vous êtes éprise?” (“So, are you in love?”) with a sort of ‘h’ sucked in front of "éprise.” She lunched “en chapeau” (“in hat”) as it should be if you arrive in a restaurant wearing a hat, but nobody knows how to do it anymore. After coffee, without using a mirror, she reapplied her lipstick. She would sometimes use an indignant grandmother's voice to say, "My little one, stand up straight. This is an absolute rule.” When I complained about a married man who liked neurotics—those who harass you to snatch an evening, a weekend—and I told her that I hated these behaviors and that, asking for nothing, I did not get anything, she punctuated with a laugh: “But my little one, this is the story of my life! Men, if not burdened with recriminations, give nothing."

I loved going to see her at the theater. The presence on stage of a person with whom you have a form of intimacy is always moving. Anguishing, too. When, at the Théâtre Montparnasse, she took over La Maison du lac with Jean Marais, I went there almost every evening. Marais-Feuillère, for the last time, you had to see and see again. One day when she invited me to lunch in a restaurant near the theater, whose old-fashioned and provincial character, like the clientele, amused us, she reproached me: "Stop coming to the theater!" Seeing my crestfallen face, she added, “But this is not a good play! How can you listen to these banal lines over and over again?” “Of course, it's not Claudel, but I'm not coming for the lyrics, I'm coming for your shoulders and for the melody.”

“Cheeky and incorrigible, that's what you are. So, come on tonight, I'll introduce you to Jean."

Juliette Gréco, who laughed at this improbable friendship and imitated Feuillère so well, would sometimes call me, mocking her voice. I hesitated for fear of saying to the real Feuillère: "Stop your stupid jokes! " One morning, I hear Feuillère's phrasing on the phone, too over-played for it to really be her: “My little one, I had a great time last night.” And Juliette Gréco tells me, with her own voice and the tone of a kid delighted with her triumph, that she was at a party the day before, and that seeing Feuillère at a table she approached silently, passed her arms around her shoulders, and leaned over say to her ironically: "So, are we seducing the same young woman?"

Despite my protests, I admit that I was rather entertained by imagining this scene between these two. The tastiest was yet to come. Call from Feuillère, the same afternoon: "My little one, we mustn't tell Juliette Gréco that we are seeing each other, she is very jealous"

I joked: "No, she knows very well that we have incestuous loves.” “Incestuous, perhaps, but not Sapphic.” There is no one left to utter such phrases!

Talking about her relationships with women, one day, when once again I had just passed a passionate admirer on her doorstep who was chasing her and whom she received, while remaining aloof, even disdainful, I joked: “You are a tease.”

“At last, my little one, how dare you?”

“Sorry, but it's the truth!”

She didn't comment. I thought of Sartre telling Sagan, who was cutting meat badly, that he could no longer cut himself: “Respect is lost."

I was a little ashamed: I had crossed a line—thin, barely perceptible, and yet very present, beyond which she wanted to safeguard her unalterable dignity. More than Claudel, it was Mallarmé's Hérodiade that she made think of: "Who would dare touch me, a respected lion?”

- Josyane Savigneau on her friendship with Edwige Feuillère in Point de côté

#edwige feuillère #josyane savigneau #buy the book #support writers!

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inkedstarlight · 4 years

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Bittersweet: Chapter Nine

Summary: Cassian and Nesta finally meet. Officially, this time. Let the romance commence. Notes: Read it here on AO3! Warnings: very brief/non-explicit mention of sexual assault Bittersweet Masterlist

“Earth to Nesta?”

Nesta snapped from her trance to see Emerie waving a hand in front of her face.

“You’ve been cleaning the same spot for a good ten minutes,” Emerie gestured to where Nesta was scrubbing the counter with a towel. It was squeaky clean.

Nesta let go of the towel and cleared her throat. “My bad.”

Emerie pulled out the chair on the other side of the counter and sat down. It was eleven in the evening on a Monday, and they had just closed. The only other person in Rita’s was Lucien, and he was doing dishes in the back.

“You’ve been acting weird for the past two weeks,” Emerie stated blatantly. Her stare was unwavering. “And you’ve lost at least ten pounds.”

The incidence with Tomas happened two weeks ago. Nesta was doing a pretty good job of moving on with her life all things considered. She felt like shit, but she hadn’t missed a single shift at work. That had to count for something.

But she should’ve known Emerie would notice. She was like a fucking hawk, that girl. She saw everything.

When Nesta didn’t say anything, Emerie shrugged and got up from the stool. “At least try a little harder,” she said, referring to the coworkers’ challenge to get the most tips. She shot Nesta a sad look. “Thesan is beating you. Thesan.”

Nesta mustered a laugh. Thesan wasn’t great with customers, that was common knowledge. Neither Emerie nor Nesta were people persons, but they knew how to turn it on for customers. Thesan, on the other hand, didn’t make much of an effort. It wasn’t that he was intentionally rude, the guy was just quiet in nature. In fact, he was quite a sweetheart.

Which was why it was quite entertaining to watch Thesan and Helion interact. Where Thesan was an introvert, Helion was loud as hell. Not to mention it was clear that Thesan was crushing on him. But unfortunately, Helion flirted with every living, breathing thing and was thus completely oblivious. During Nesta’s first week at Rita’s, Emerie had spilled all the tea about their coworkers. Thesan was head over heels in love with Helion, Helion had never been in a monogamous relationship, and Viviane… well, Viviane had her own little love story. A complicated one at that.

His name was Kallias. They grew up together, from scheming little kids to rebellious teenagers to young adults. Best friends since they could remember.

Because Emerie grew up in the same small town as them, she knew everything. They all went to school together. She knew that Kallias had been in love with Viviane since freshman year of high school. She knew that Viviane felt the same way, but she would never admit it thanks to the hell she was put through during her childhood. Nesta didn’t know the specifics, and she never asked.

It also didn’t help that Viviane was in a relationship with someone else. They’d been together for almost two years. Emerie thought Viviane deserved better, that he wasn’t a very good person.

Anyway, Kallias visited Rita’s nearly every weekend after his shift at the fire station to grab a drink and more importantly, see Viviane.

Nesta thought it was ridiculous. She’d told Emerie as much when she’d brought Nesta up to date on their coworkers’ lives. Why wouldn’t they just admit they loved each other and get on with it already? It was pretty fucking simple; they were just making it complicated for themselves. Emerie wholeheartedly agreed and the pair then went on an hour long rant on the idiocy of romantic relationships.

And if she was being honest, Nesta didn’t care much about these people. Sure, they were respectable but they were a temporary fixture in her life. Once she secured a job in her career field, she was going to leave them all behind.

“We should get a drink sometime. Outside of work,” Emerie clarified with a look of disgust. “I’m sick of it here.”

Nesta knew that was a lie based on the relationship Emerie had with Rita and her wife. But she didn’t say that.

“Maybe,” Nesta responded distractedly, desperate to think of an excuse. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Emerie; no, Nesta liked her coworker. She just couldn’t muster the energy to go out with friends or socialize like that. “I’m pretty busy right now though.”

Emerie narrowed her eyes and scrutinized her.

“Stop analyzing me.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

Emerie sighed and receded. She hesitated before saying quietly, “Is… is this the part when I ask if you’re okay and we get all deep and explore a new level of our friendship?”

Nesta slowly met her friend’s gaze. They stared at one another for several moments.

Then, they burst out laughing.

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

The next morning, Nesta was brewing her third cup of coffee when Elain padded into the kitchen.

“Good morning,” Elain yawned as a greeting. She wore bunny slippers and an oversized hoodie. Elain only had one evening class on Tuesdays, so today was her only day - save for the weekend - to sleep in.

“Hey, kiddo.”

“How long have you been up?”

Nesta glanced at the clock. It was nine-thirty. She’d woken up at six after a sleepless night of tossing and turning.

But she simply shrugged instead. “Not long.”

Nesta poured the coffee into her mug, sitting back down at the counter. She watched as Elain bustled around the kitchen, scrambling eggs and slicing fruit. The morning light spilled through the dusty kitchen sink window, bars of sunshine reflecting off the tiled floors. Iroh basked in the sunspots, his black fur glistening as his chartreuse eyes blinked closed.

Elain and Nesta hadn’t spent much time together in the past couple weeks. It was Nesta’s doing, of course. She was actively avoiding her sister and everyone else. After Elain had tried to talk to Nesta after the whole thing with Tomas, she stopped asking Nesta if she was okay. Nesta assumed that Elain realized she wasn’t going to get an answer, that there wasn't really a point in trying.

But Gods, Nesta fucking missed her. And even though she wanted nothing more than to retreat to her bedroom as she sat there in the kitchen, she didn’t move from the chair.

You need them as much as they need you, her father’s voice echoed in her head.

Guilt stabbed at her chest.

“How’re classes going?” Nesta asked quietly. Elain looked at her over her shoulder with a surprised yet pleasant smile.

“Great! I’m so grateful to be at such a great college, but…” Elain bit her lip, hesitating. “My bio lab is going to be the death of me."

“You know you’re allowed to complain, right?”

Elain just gave her a smile. “Yeah, I know. It's just, considering where I was a year ago, I couldn't be happier to finally be enrolled in such a prestigious program. Even if that means the classes are brutal."

I wish I was like you. I take everything for granted.

“And have you made any friends?”

Elain had started school at Pryth U months ago and yet Nesta had no idea if she even had friends yet.

Selfish bitch.

A fond smile broke out on Elain’s face. “Yes, I have this really great group of friends: Lucien, Ressina, and Varian. It's just the four of us, but we've gotten really close.”

Nesta asked Elain more questions before excusing herself back to her room, claiming she was going to try to write today, to which Elain squealed and wished her luck.

Nesta hadn't written since their dad died. Prior to his death, she would write nearly every day. She'd been working on a novel for years. The plot had came to her in middle school, and it just grew from there. She'd never told anyone about it. Everyone knows how fucking hard it is to get your writing published, much less get high ratings. Nesta wasn't even sure if she was going to finish it. This was the longest she'd gone without writing or editing it. And she had a feeling that she wouldn't ever go back to it.

Dread filled her stomach as she thought of that prospect. What the fuck was she doing with her life?

Nesta’s phone buzzed, and she fished it out of her back pocket.

Incoming call from Feyre Archeron.

It kept buzzing, Nesta merely stared at her sister's name on her screen. She couldn't think of a single reason why Feyre would be calling. But she pressed "Accept" before it could go to voicemail.

“Hello?”

“Hey.”

Silence.

“Uh, what’s up?” Nesta asked. She collapsed onto her unmade bed. Iroh scampered past the door and jumped on the bed with her. He didn't waste a minute curling himself around her head.

"I was calling to see… maybe, I don’t know… uh, would you want to come to dinner tonight?”

I was not expecting that. And Nesta was about 95% sure this was Elain’s doing.

“Why?”

“I want you there," Feyre told her as if it were obvious.

“Why?” Nesta asked again. She hadn't seen Feyre since Thanksgiving despite her sister living just on the outskirts of the city.

That had been weeks ago.

“It's complicated," Feyre responded quietly. She seemed to pause before finding the words. "I've been so worried about Cassian, we all have. He'd never been deployed for that long - five months. It was scary. I guess I took that out on you. I don't know why..."

She drifted off. Nesta held her breath.

"I'm sure Elain told you, but he's home now. I've been more myself since he returned, and I want you to come to dinner. I… miss you.”

She rubbed her temple. “I don’t know, Feyre.”

I don't know if I can pretend to be okay for an entire night. I don't know if you even fucking want me there or if you just feel obligated. I don't know if I can be in the same room as your douchebag boyfriend. I don't know if I can be surrounded by your friends, most of whom seem to dislike me. I don't know if I can behave like a normal fucking person.

I don't know.

“Please?” The plea was soft, quiet. It was like she was almost desperate. But for what?

Nesta looked out the window where a blue jay - their dad's favorite bird - was perched on a bare tree branch. The leaves had long ago fallen, leaving the world naked and vulnerable. “Yeah, I’ll be there.”

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

Feyre embraced her with an awkward hug when Nesta and Elain walked into the house. Nesta patted her on the back lightly, uncomfortable with the physical touch. Luckily, no one else seemed incline to embrace her. Rhys actually seemed to make sure he was as far away as possible.

Elain, on the other hand, gave everyone a hug. Mor gave a laugh as she squeezed Elain back, Aurra watching them with a smile. Interestingly enough, when Elain greeted Azriel with a hug, his tanned cheeks glowed red. It was almost imperceptible, but Nesta noticed.

Feyre took a step back to assess her. Nesta could see the judgement in her sister's eyes as she took in Nesta's noticeably thinner body. Luckily, however, she wasn't given the chance to comment on it when Elain piped up, "Where's Cassian? Nesta still hasn't met him yet."

"He's running a bit late," Rhys answered, glancing down at his phone. "Should be here in about ten minutes."

Everyone began to make their way into the dining room and Nesta followed. However, she was quickly tugged to the side when Amren swooped in out of nowhere and basically dragged Nesta into the privacy of the hallway. She stopped, crossed her arms over her chest, and glared at Nesta.

“Where have you been?” Amren demanded.

"What do you mean?" Nesta asked, playing dumb.

She hadn't spoken to Amren in a long time, even though they had each others' numbers. Even though Amren had repeatedly texted her, asking to get coffee or go for a walk or something else of the sorts. All of which went unanswered.

Amren rolled her eyes, and Nesta was convinced they went to the back of her head for a good minute. "Don't play dumb with me, Nesta."

“I don’t know, working?"

"Is that a question?" Amren rose a deadly brow.

Nesta huffed and mirrored Amren's angry stance. "Why are you interrogating me?"

“Because you've been radio silent for weeks. I had to ask Elain if you were still fucking alive," Amren explained. Then, she leaned in close like she didn't want anyone to hear. "I was worried about you, you bitch."

Nesta let out a sigh. "I'm sorry, okay? I've been busy. I do want to hang out, it's just that..." she trailed off.

"What? It's just that what?"

Nesta stared at the floor, unable to form words.

"Nesta, are you okay?" Amren asked, her voice softer.

Just tell her. Fucking tell her.

I was almost raped.

Just the thought was enough to make Nesta want to puke. She couldn't, it was too much and she wouldn't even be able to fucking say it and it's her fault, all her fault.

She breathed in through her nose and looked back up at Amren. She shot her the most fake smile she'd ever given. "I'm good. Seriously, I just got busy. It won't happen again."

Nesta saw the skepticism in Amren's eyes. But she conceded with a small sigh. "Well, don't do it again, okay? I seriously thought you were fucking murdered or some shit."

Nesta just nodded. Amren looked at her once more before gesturing with her chin back to the dining room. Nesta followed her.

When they rounded the corner, she stopped dead in her tracks.

Because sitting next to Feyre was the man who had tried to break into her apartment.

“Nesta!" Feyre exclaimed, calling her over from where she sat. "This is Cassian. Cassian, this is my sister, Nesta.”

Nesta simply stared at him like a deer in headlights and he stared at her, his lips parted in surprise. He was wearing a grey sweater, his long hair hanging down, no longer in a bun like it was the last time. He tucked it behind one ear.

"Are you stalking me or something?" Nesta said incredulously.

"I could ask you the same," Cassian retorted cheekily.

Feyre looked between them, a confused expression written on her face. "Do you guys know each other or something?"

"Something like that," Nesta mumbled.

Everyone's eyes were on them as they waited for an answer.

"Well as everyone knows, I live in the same building as Nesta and Elain," Cassian explained, waving a hand to the two sisters. "The other night, I got stupid drunk with a friend. He drove me back to my place and me, drunk off my fucking ass, tried to get into their apartment thinking it was mine."

The entire room erupted into laughter, Rhys choking on his food and Azriel looking up as if reasoning with the Gods.

"So when Nesta opened the door," Cassian continued, "she nearly beat me to death with a baseball bat."

Another round of laughter.

"Overreact much?"

Everyone's eyes flew to where Nesta sat. They seemed shocked. Nesta was too.

She didn't know why she said it, why she let it bother her. He was just so fucking frustrating, even his mere presence.

Cassian stuck his tongue out at her.

Feyre interrupted, her jaw agape. "You guys are acting like children."

Nesta got quiet after that. The conversation continued, thankfully taking the attention off her. As everyone laughed and conversed, Cassian looked over at her. His smile disappeared when he met Nesta's gaze. She just stared back at him, lips in a thin line. He seemed to try to gauge her reaction carefully, but her face was blank.

And so the night went on. Nesta didn't say another word after what happened. She avoided eye contact with Cassian. Avoided conversation with everyone.

It was half past eight when they all began clearing their dishes. Mor, Aurra, Azriel, and Cassian were all gathered in the kitchen cleaning up. Feyre and Rhys had excused themselves. It was just Nesta and Elain who remained in the dining room.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” Nesta leaned over to whisper to Elain.

Elain nodded. "We'll head out right after, yeah?" She must've noticed the exhaustion in Nesta's face.

Nesta agreed, excusing herself from the table.

She walked down the hallway, peeking through every door to find the bathroom. She was about to push through a door on the left that was slightly cracked open when she heard voices coming from within.

“I’m worried about him. He’s not the same.” It was Feyre.

“He never is when he comes home, Feyre," Rhys said dejectedly. "It’s happened before. Cass just needs time.”

Cass.

Nesta tiptoed closer to the door, just enough for her to listen.

“No, what he needs is to see someone!”

“I’ve tried. He doesn’t want to go.”

“Try harder, Rhys!” Feyre cried, her tone frustrated.

“We can’t just force him to go, okay?”

“Are you seeing what I’m seeing? Do you even notice how lost your own fucking brother is? Do you even care?!”

Silence.

“Rhysand, I’m sorry. Gods, I’m so sorry. I know you care. More than anyone. I just… I don’t want to lose him.”

She heard them both breathing deeply.

“C’mere,” Rhys murmured. Nesta heard Feyre's footsteps as she presumably walked toward him.

“We’ll figure it out, okay?”

“Together.”

“Always, Feyre darling.”

They got quiet, probably embracing each other. Nesta crept away from their bedroom door and into the bathroom before they could find her.

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

Elain and Nesta had just unlocked their apartment door when Nesta groaned. “Oh, shit, I forgot my wallet in the car." She fished around in her bag to make sure it wasn't in there. "I’ll be right back.”

"I'll leave the door unlocked," Elain called behind her as Nesta made her way to the elevator.

She stepped between the doors, hitting the button for the parking garage. Gods, she just wanted to go to sleep. The night had been exhausting.

After a minute or so, she was approaching her car. She unlocked her door and grabbed her wallet that was in the middle console when a pair of headlights flashed past her, a car pulling into the spot next to her.

Before panic could set in, Nesta recognized who was driver the car through the window.

Cassian.

His car turned off and he emerged from the driver's door just a moment later. He looked over where Nesta was clutching her wallet to her chest staring at him. He gave her a tight-lipped smile before turning away and walking towards the elevator. Nesta had no choice to follow.

She walked just a few feet behind him as they made their way to the elevator.

"I'm sorry," Cassian told her, his voice sincere. He cast a concerned glance her way. "For embarrassing you at dinner. And if I scared you that night."

"You didn't embarrass me," Nesta snapped at him. "You were just being annoying as hell."

His entire body seemed to relax at her insult. Cassian tried to hide his smirk but failed. "I'm glad to see you're still your normal, hotheaded self. You got me worried at dinner with your stoic behavior."

Now she really glared at him. "Don't talk like you know me. You don't."

"Oh, sweetheart," he teased. "I think we're more similar than you think."

She scoffed. "I think that hubris of yours will be your downfall."

"You know, it's quite sexy when you use literary devices to insult me," he joked.

Nesta froze.

Was he coming onto her? Chills ran down her spine when she thought of the last time a man expressed interest in her.

It's not the same, she tried to convince yourself. He's not Tomas.

Cassian must've expected a heated response to his comment because he looked surprised when Nesta simply stared straight ahead. She seemed to be in a world of her own, oblivious to everything around her. Any trace of anger was gone, replaced by a cool indifference.

Cassian's face fell. "Nesta, I didn't mean to - "

He was cut off as the elevator door dinged opened and Nesta swiftly walked out.

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

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captainjanegay · 4 years

Text

Summary: Bucky is a single dad coming back from a work trip with a very bored, very whiney 7-year-old girl. A mysterious stranger with a kind heart and a notebook full of doodles comes to the rescue.

A/N: It's been... so long since I've updated this fic. I'm sorry but life got in the way and I couldn't bring myself to write anything. Here I come with apologies and hopes that you haven't forgotten about the adventures of Bucky, Alex and Steve. I'm gonna treat you with the longest chapter I've ever written (it's like 5.3k). I hope you'll like it, I got a bit carried away and my space-nerdiness is showing every now and then.

The chapters will probably come very irregularly from now on but I'll try my best not to have too long gaps between each update. I love you all and — as always — thank you so, so much for your continuous support. I cherish every single reader, every single like and every single comment you leave here :')

Chapter 7

(5.2k)

When Monday rolls around, Bucky faces New York’s chilly morning as he makes his way to work. It’s been only a few days since he got sick, but he feels significantly better now. His nose might still be stuffed and his throat might feel a bit scratchy, but he is mostly fine. No more coughing fits, no more fever. And it’s not like he could say no when his boss called him to check how he was doing and ask if he’d be able to come by before Christmas to do some required maintenance work.

But it’s fine, since the work at the Institute has slowed down, many people have already taken their days off for the Christmas break. It’s calmer than usual and Bucky can do whatever he’s supposed to do in peace.

It's a bit past noon and Bucky's mindlessly staring at the progress bar on his screen and enjoys his coffee. The peace and quiet — excluding his Christmas playlist playing in the background — is disturbed by the ringing of his phone. Slightly startled, Bucky looks around, searching for the device. After a quick glance at the screen, he answers the call.

"Hi, Buck!" Steve says, his voice soft and warm. "I hope I didn't wake you up or anything. Just wanted to check up on you, see how you're feeling."

"That's very sweet of you," Bucky says, his lips spreading in a smile. "And I'm fine, thank you. Currently waiting for the data backup to finish so you've disrupted my staring contest with the progress bar."

Steve doesn't appreciate the joke. Instead, he asks, "You're at work?" After receiving an affirmative hum, he lets out a slightly annoyed huff. "Why? You should still be in bed! Three days ago you've been barely able to get up for longer than 10 minutes. You should still rest, Buck."

"It's been six days ago, thank you very much," Bucky answers. "And I'm fine, Steve. I promise. I wouldn't come if I was still feeling sick, but the fever's been gone for a few days," two but Steve doesn't have to know that, "and I'm not coughing anymore. I'm as fit as a fiddle."

"I can hear you sniffle."

"It's the allergies," Bucky lies and that makes Steve laugh, although a bit exasperated.

"You're horrible," he says. "Bet you haven't even eaten breakfast or drink enough water or like... didn’t even wear a hat even though you’re sick."

"I did have a toast while I ran to catch the train. And now I'm having coffee for lunch. And it’s not even that cold."

An honest-to-God gasp escapes Steve's mouth after he hears that. Of course he's a Mr. Healthy Lifestyle, Bucky shouldn't even be surprised.

"How are you even functioning? You gotta take care of yourself, Buck."

Bucky's heart skips a bit. It's nice to have someone worry about him. Even if he's being dragged in the meantime. And it was nice when Steve took care of him and Alex back when Bucky was too sick to do this. Of course, he has people who do that. Clint, Tasha, Scott -- he can always count on them. But somehow it feels different with Steve. Steve hasn't been around for years like the others, he's known Bucky for just a few months and he still decided to offer his kindness and care. This thought made Bucky's heart do somersaults in his chest.

So did the fact that Steve had a nickname to Bucky's nickname. And he's been using it a lot. Bucky really likes it.

"I'm functioning very well, thank you. And so is Alex, because I'm not as hopeless in taking care of her, luckily," Bucky chuckles. Before Steve can't say anything, Bucky adds, "Besides, I've been able to survive 28 years like this so don't be overdramatic. No need to go all mother hen on me."

"Oh, you think this is overdramatic?" Steve asks, amused. "You clearly don't know what me being overdramatic is, pal. This is just some simple, friendly check-in."

"Okay, now I'm kinda curious," Bucky says. His cheeks hurt from smiling so much. "Hypothetically, what would one have to do to see what is Steve Rogers's definition of overdramatic?"

It makes Steve let out another laugh. "Careful what you wish for, Buck." It sounds like Steve wants to say something else but there's some noise in the background and his voice becomes distant and inaudible for a moment. When he comes back, he says with a sigh, "Sorry 'bout that. I need to go back to work. I'm glad you're feeling better but eat a proper meal or I'll hunt you down."

"Oh, so no mother hen anymore, were going straight to threats, okay." Bucky nods to himself and Steve huffs out a laugh. "Thanks for the call, Steve. It's very sweet of you. Have a nice day."

"You, too. Say hi to Alex from me."

"I will. Bye, Steve."

A small smile is still present on Bucky's face when a few hours later he's picking Alex up from school. It grows bigger when she runs towards him down the stairs, her haphazardly wrapped scarf fluttering behind her. He takes a moment to tuck it properly and then takes Alex's backpack from her.

“How was school today?” Bucky asks as they head home.

“Fine. We played soccer and I scored once!” Alex answers proudly. “Even Adrian didn’t and he’s very good. Maya didn’t want to play ‘cause she says girls shouldn’t play soccer.”

“Jokes on her, because we have a women’s national soccer team and they’re the best. They’re the world champions.”

A gasps escapes Alex’s mouth. “Really? That’s so cool! I want to be a soccer player when I grow up!”

“Not a ballerina, anymore?” Bucky asks, with a small smile.

“No, I’m gonna be a ballerina but I’m gonna play soccer sometimes, too. But that’s after I’ll fly to the moon!”

Bucky only nods and grins at her. He wouldn’t be surprised in the least if she actually pulled that off in the future. There weren’t many things that could stop her since she decided upon something.

“How’s space?” Alex asks, swinging their hands back and forth.

Bucky chuckles. It’s a bit of a tradition at this point. He doesn’t really remember how it started but now she never asks him “how’s work” but it’s always “how’s space?”. Personally, Bucky loves it. It makes him feel like he’s doing much cooler things that he really does.

“Pretty boring, sadly,” he admits. “Didn’t have much to do today and many people are on their breaks so no fun space facts to share today. I chatted on the phone with Steve and he wanted me to say hi to you.”

“Oh, is he coming over today?”

Slightly confused with the question, Bucky shakes his head. “No, he’s not. We just talked on the phone. Why?”

“I don’t know, I thought you liked Steve.”

“Well, I do. I like uncle Scott too but we don’t hang out with him every day, either. Steve has his own life and stuff to do, so we shouldn’t bother him all the time.”

Alex makes a small hum and Bucky’s not sure if it’s a dismissive or an agreeing one. After a moment, she adds, “I bet he wouldn’t mind though. He told me he really likes you.”

“What? When?” The revelation almost makes Bucky stop in the middle of the pavement. The biggest surprise is not that Steve likes him, Bucky has figured out this much after all those times they’ve hung out together. What really takes him aback is that apparently his daughter and Steve are having conversations about him when he’s not there.

“When you were sick and Steve went to ballet class with me. I told him he’s cool and I’m happy you have him so you’re not so lonely. And he said he thinks we’re really cool too and that he likes us a lot.”

This time Bucky slows down and eventually stops. There’s a furrow between his brows when he looks at Alex.

“Why would you think I’m lonely, munchkin? I’m not, I have you and mama, uncle Clint and Scott. And now Steve. I’m more than fine.”

“Well… Okay, maybe I didn’t mean lonely. But sometimes when you have a lot to do and you worry and mama or uncle Clint are busy you do this—” Alex furrows her brows and pouts, apparently imitating a worried Bucky “and you’re quiet and worried. And now you smile even more than you did. You smile all the time when you text Steve.”

For a moment, Bucky only gapes at her, not sure how to react. That’s a lot of information coming at once from his 7-year-old daughter.

“I’m— Well, I’m okay, even if I worry sometimes. And I couldn’t be lonely, having such a sweet little munchkin by my side,” he smiles, bopping her on the nose and getting a smile in return. “But thank you for caring about me, sweetheart. I love you to the moon and back.”

“And I love you to Jupiter!” she answers.

“But not back?” Bucky raises an eyebrow.

“Nah, it’s already so far away, it’s enough.”

The conversation with Alex stays in Bucky’s head for the rest of the day. It’s gnawing at him enough that before he goes to bed, he takes out his phone and calls Natasha.

“How’s my favourite co-parent doing?” she greets.

“Do you have any more co-parents?” Bucky asks instead of answering.

“Nope. That’s what makes you my favourite.” Bucky only sighs so she continues. “Did something happen? You’re usually in the mood for late night conversation when something’s on your mind.”

There’s no point in denying it since Natasha would see right through him. “It’s nothing bad. Apparently Alex thinks I’m lonely.”

“Well, she’s not wrong.”

“What? Tasha, no. I’m not lonely, where did you two get that idea?”

“James, it’s not my fault that you’re an idiot. I know that you have people who love you around. You know that, too. But I know and you also should know — but here’s the ‘idiot’ part — that it might not be enough sometimes. And I’m pretty sure we’ve had a similar conversation like a month ago, so I don’t know why you act all surprised now.”

“Remind me, why did I even call you?”

“Because I am incredible and you value my opinion like no one else’s and also you love me deeply,” Natasha explains dutifully.

Bucky huffs out a laugh as he sits heavily on the side of his bed. His eyes land on the comic from Steve, still laying on Bucky’s bedside table, propped against the lamp. “Sounds fake, but okay.”

“Did our daughter have any more revelations for you?” Natasha asks.

“Well…,” Bucky hesitates for a moment. “She and Steve gossip about me when I’m not around. And apparently I’ve been smiling more lately. But that’s about it.”

Natasha hums but even through the phone Bucky can hear that she’s rather amused.

"What?" Bucky asks.

"I didn't say anything!"

"I can hear you laughing, just say whatever mean thing you're going to say and let's get this over with."

"I'm not gonna say anything mean! I was just wondering when we'd mention Steve in this conversation," she chuckles. "But really. Even your daughter can see that a relationship would be good for you. And that you like Steve a lot. Why not kill two birds with one Steve?"

Bucky sighs. "Because one Steve is also enough to kill this friendship we have."

"Why do you always just automatically assume that things will get fucked? It doesn't have to be the case. I'm serious, you'd better take a grip on yourself and ask him out or I'm back in three days and I'll do this for you. And I'll be as obnoxious and embarrassing for you as I can."

That's actually a pretty horrible threat. She would do that. And it would be both mortifying and horrible to experience for all the involved parties — maybe except Natasha. Bucky laughs, trying to imagine it, but the laugh is short-lived.

"Come on, Nat," Bucky starts after a moment, getting serious. "Steve is great and it's great having him around. But what if I make a move and he's not interested? I don't want to freak him out. Or remember that message I accidentally saw on his computer? He might be seeing someone already or be interested in someone else," Bucky pinches the bridge of his nose. "Plus, I know from experience that no matter how much he might seem to like me, a guy with a kid can turn out to be a bit much for people. I don't want to get hurt. I don't want Alex to get hurt. She adores Steve and I don't know if I can risk it."

"But I'm telling you, nobody's getting hurt anytime soon," Natasha chimes in. "You're overthinking, Yasha. Those are all valid concerns but you know what the counterargument is?" She takes a small break but she's not expecting Bucky to respond. "Steve's a good guy. He likes you. He likes Alex. He came to a primary school dance recital after knowing you for like a week just because you and Alex asked him to. Even if he doesn't want a relationship, it doesn’t mean that your friendship has to end. From all you've told me, he doesn't seem like the kind to trample on your hearts like this. Give yourself some time, but promise me you're gonna think about it, okay? And call me if you work yourself up into an anxious mess again, okay?”

“I will try not to be an anxious mess, but I’ll let you know. And I’ll think about it. Thanks, Tasha.” Bucky says.

“I love you no matter what, you dumbfuck. Bye.”

Bucky barely manages to say it back before she hangs up. He shakes his head with a small smile and retrieves his charger cable from behind the bedside table. As he plugs his phone, he accidentally knocks down the drawing from Steve. He picks it up, staring at the soft lines for who-knows-which time. His thumb gently traces the “Get well soon, Buck! x” scribbled at the bottom.

Looking at it, Bucky imagines the moment when Steve was writing it down. In his mind, he sees both Steve and Alexandra at the kitchen table, both leaning over their respective pieces of paper, focused on whatever they’re drawing. They are smiling, chatting about whatever common interest they’ve currently discovered. It’s a very nice picture. Enough to make Bucky’s heart ache.

Because Natasha is right. This is exactly what Bucky craves and what he’s been ignoring for years. That domesticity, that warm feeling one gets when looking at someone they care about. That happiness. He can almost imagine himself joining the picture he’s created in his head, walking over to that table and dropping a kiss first on Alex’s head and then on Steve’s, before he starts preparing the dinner. It feels right.

Maybe it’s not usual to imagine this calm, family life with someone he’s not even in a relationship with. Most people probably think of tons of other things, things that are not so… settled. Not as serious. Sometimes they never reach this part. But Bucky has figured a while ago that it doesn’t really work for him. He already has a family. And this family means everything and more to him. If he ever was to date, he has to make sure that the person would fit into his and Alexandra’s life. He has to skip ahead to make sure it’s worth going through the dates and the passion and all the work a relationship requires, without it all ending in a heartbreak. But Steve…

Steve fits so well into this picture, it scares Bucky a bit. Because this would be even harder to let go, if things didn't work out.

It's pretty clear, now that he allows himself to think about it, that he has some feelings for Steve. Besides the friendliness and sympathy, that is. They're the romantic kind and they're still fresh and shy but they're here. And Bucky has absolutely no clue how to deal with them. It's not even that surprising, he realises. Because how could he not catch feelings for Steve? For the kindest, most thoughtful and most selfless person in the world? For someone with his heart made of gold, who always knows how to make Bucky laugh? Someone who gets so passionate about the things he loves and just as much about the ones he despises? Who cares deeply, laughs with his whole body and who next to all this softness and kindness, is also a stubborn little asshole? Who — and this is the most important of all — adores Alex and whom she adores just as much?

Bucky's heart was a lost cause from the start.

Steve has a lot of qualities that Bucky would fall for if he looked for a partner. And that he accidentally might have fallen for anyway. And that's all without even mentioning that Steve is so ridiculously attractive that it might've skewed Bucky's view on beauty forever.

The point is — Natasha is right. That this could be a good thing. They could be a good thing. But what they have now is already good and Bucky really values this friendship. He isn't sure if pursuing a hypothetical picture in his head is worth putting it at risk. Because he still can't be sure if Steve's interested. For what Bucky knows, he's kind and caring towards all of his friends. It doesn't mean that Bucky and Alex are special.

He can almost hear Natasha's voice in his head, calling him an idiot and yelling that he won't know until he tries. Which is right, since Natasha always is. It doesn't help him stop the — partially excited but mostly terrified — somersaults his insides make. With a small sigh, he puts the drawing on its place by the lamp, flicks off the lights and burrows himself under the covers. He doesn't have to have everything figured out straight away. Letting himself even consider it is a big enough step for now, he decides as he drifts off to sleep.

The next day is Bucky's last day at work before the Christmas break. He doesn't really have much to do, just finishing some last updates and dealing with whatever paperwork he was putting off earlier. Most of the time, he chats with Scott, who has been wandering aimlessly around the institute for the lack of work and eventually landed in Bucky's tiny office. They've been chatting about their Christmas plans — nothing too elaborate for both of them, just simple time at home with their families — and now they started discussing where they should go to grab some lunch. Just as Bucky almost convinced Scott that they should go to this sushi place down the block instead of the Italian place, there's a knock on the door.

Bucky sends his friend a confused look.

"It wasn't me," Scott raises his hands in defence.

"Come in," Bucky calls after another second passes. It's probably someone having a last-minute computer problem or one of his co-workers wanting to drop by with Christmas wishes.

Except, when the door cracks open, Steve's head pokes in. Its hair is messy, its cheeks reddened from the cold and its lips spread in a smile.

"Hi, Buck. And hi Scott, it's nice to see you again," he says. "I'm not interrupting?"

And because Bucky's brain is still processing the fact that for some reason Steve's come to visit him at work, Scott's the one who says, "Not at all, come in."

Steve hesitates for another second. Bucky's brain finally kicks in and he smiles which is apparently the invitation Steve needed, because he finally fully walks into the office.

"Hi, Steve. I didn't expect you here," Bucky says, his smile growing bigger.

"Well, you should. Because after our talk yesterday, I decided to bring you lunch," Steve says, proudly showing a big paper bag in his hand. "I told you you haven't seen shit, and especially not overdramatic me."

This makes Bucky laugh out loud as he shakes his head in disbelief. How is Steve even real?

Scott is watching them with a slightly confused but endeared smile on his face. Before anyone can say anything, he gets up from the chair, slapping his thighs as he does.

"Okay then, I'll leave you to it," he says, walking towards the door.

"There's plenty to share, if you want to join us," Steve offers, because of course he does. His gold-heartedness wouldn't have it any other way.

But Scott only shakes his head at that. "Nah, I'm in the mood for some sushi today. Thanks, though."

"Asshole," Bucky narrows his eyes at Scott. "I hope you'd choke on it."

His friend only laughs at that, "Enjoy your lunch date! It's been great to see you, Steve. Merry Christmas."

"You too, Scott. Say hi to Hope and Cassie from me."

With one last grin aimed at Bucky — and a very pointed look behind Steve's back — Scott leaves them alone. Bucky tries not to dwell on the fact that Steve didn't even bat an eye when Scott called it a lunch date.

"Why should he choke?" Steve asks with a chuckle.

"I've been trying to talk him into going to that sushi place for almost twenty minutes before you came," Bucky sighs and then notices that Steve is still hovering by the door. "Come on, take your coat off and sit down. I can't believe you've brought me lunch."

Steve shrugs off his coat and leaves it on the hanger by the door, next to Bucky's. Today he's wearing a maroon sweater that really suits him and a pair of dark jeans. He pushes his sleeves up before he digs into the bag and Bucky tries not to stare too obviously.

"Someone's got to make sure you eat, since after yesterday I've gotten an idea you're not good at it yourself," Steve says. "Guess it wasn't necessary. Sadly, I don't have sushi but maybe you're in the mood for Thai?"

"Depends on whether you've brought me the dumplings or not," Bucky answers.

Steve laughs in response and takes out one of the boxes and hands it to Bucky. "I did. I also have green curry for you? I hope I remembered correctly that you like it? If not, I'm sorry, we can switch—"

"Steve." Bucky says solemnly, placing his hand on Steve's forearm, to stop him from fumbling with the food. "You not only brought me food but you remembered my favourite after I mentioned it one time. You are an angel. You should hide it better, because you make us mortals look bad."

He's only half joking. Steve does seem like a higher being of some sorts and it's unfair that Bucky's poor heart is supposed to handle it. It doesn't do a great job. Especially not when Steve laughs, his eyes crinkle so much they turn into thin slits.

"And I am the overdramatic one?" Steve asks, unpacking the last things and finally sitting on the chair across from Bucky. He's still smiling but there's a blush colouring his cheeks and creeping down his neck.

Bucky bites the inside of his cheek to contain a grin but the truth is, he's immensely proud of himself for pulling this reaction out of Steve. To stop himself from saying something stupid, he digs into his food.

"By the way, how did you find me here?" Bucky asks, his tongue sticking out a bit in concentration as he fishes for a dumpling with his chopsticks.

"Clara let me know where your office is, she was very helpful."

Bucky furrows his brows. The surprise makes him drop his dumpling back into the container. "Clara, as in Clara Oswald, our receptionist? How do you know her?"

"I don't. We've chatted for a few minutes and I explained why I'm here and she told me how to get to you."

"Ah, of course it took you about five minutes to charm her and get into a government building just like that," Bucky chuckles.

"I didn't charm anyone! I just politely asked and she helped!"

If it wasn't Steve, Bucky would take it as fake modesty. But the truth is that Steve really seems to be completely oblivious to the effect he has on people. It’s endearing to see him do this.

"So here's when you do your cool space stuff?" Steve asks, changing the subject.

"Here's when the real scientists come searching for help when there's some IT-related issue," Bucky corrects him. "I don't do anything cool. I make sure all the data is where it's supposed to be and that whatever equipment they need is ready and working properly. Or part of it, Scott's an engineer and he takes care of the rest. I do get to read some space facts first hand, though."

"That's still cool space stuff for me," Steve shrugs with a small smile. "What kinds of things are you researching here? Like some particular aspects of outer space, or—?"

Normally Bucky would just give the shortest answer possible. People usually get bored quickly when he starts talking about it. But something in the genuine interest on Steve's face, the way he is looking around the office — which is nothing special, the only nice things are the sky maps and some spaced themed art — makes Bucky think that maybe Steve wouldn't mind getting the longer answer.

"Well, we mostly study the weather. Both the Earth's and the one in the solar system, like the solar winds and magnetic storms, stuff like that. We study exoplanets and try to discover or guess as much as we can about them," Bucky says. "I helped to create simulations that predicted how they could look like and develop, to see if there's a possibility to inhabit them. We did it by basically dumping all the data we have into an elaborate computer programme and waiting to see what comes out." Bucky laughs and Steve does too, but he has the look of utter fascination on his face as he listens. "And all this helps with some more down-to-earth stuff — pun not intended. Like, we've done tons of studies in climate change."

"That's—," Steve starts when he makes sure that Bucky's done. "All of this sounds incredible. And you're a part of all those amazing things, how great is that?"

Bucky feels that his cheeks start to burn. There's another reason he usually sticks with the short answer. As much as he's proud to be working here and as much as he loves it, the impostor in him always makes sure that he understands the difference between his work and the actual research, analysis and all the heavy lifting that the astronomers do. He helps, of course he does. He does a great job at it, but there's still a difference. And such praise usually makes him squirm uncomfortably.

"And don't even try to get all modest with me again," Steve warns as if he's been reading Bucky's mind. "You've said that you don't do cool space stuff and then admitted that you've helped to create a program to imagine how exoplanets can look and change. So I know you're full of bullshit."

Steve raises an eyebrow in what's supposed to be an unimpressed look but it's not even close. The smile and the curious, bright eyes that are stating right at Bucky are destroying the effect. The blush on Bucky's cheeks only deepens, especially as Steve adds. "I've been impressed before but— Wow. Really, you guys are doing such incredible things here, I can’t wrap my head around it."

"We really do," Bucky agrees, eventually.

The beaming smile Steve sends him feels like a reward Bucky didn't know he deserves.

"So you've always liked space? Or was it an accident that brought you here?" Steve asks.

"No, I've always loved it. It's just so fascinating and there's always so much more to learn about it," Bucky doesn't even try to hide his excitement. "I've never fully understood all the science behind it but I loved staring at the sky, trying to find all those constellations and planets and galaxies. I've figured a way to somehow connect it to what I was good at and make it my job. Which is amazing. But now I mostly stare at the computer screen instead of the stars. "

He doesn't want to sound ungrateful but he must admit that it does kill some of the fun. But not even the astronomers simply state up at the sky to admire the view.

Steve only nods in response. "Alex mentioned that you guys went on a trip out of town to watch the stars. It must've been great."

"We did! It was like… almost 2 years ago, I think? I borrowed one of those fancy telescopes they have here. I needed to pick Alex up every time, cause she was too small to reach it," Bucky laughs as he brings out the memories. "It was fun, we should do that again, sometime. But I don't have much time now, so it’ll have to wait."

"It does sound great," Steve smiles that soft smile again. "I hope you'd find some time as it gets warm enough for such trips. I bet Alex would be delighted."

"Yeah. I'll let you know if that happens, in case you'd like to join," Bucky says before he can think better of it.

There's more of the childlike excitement on Steve's face as Bucky mentions it so maybe it wasn't that bad of an idea.

An actual bad idea comes out of Bucky's mouth a bit later, just as Steve is getting ready to head out. Bucky's lunch break is long gone and forgotten, because it's been two hours that Steve spent here. He apologises for staying so long and the assurances that Bucky didn't have any more work to do doesn't help.

"I'm sorry for taking your mind away from your responsibilities, but it was great spending time with you," Steve says.

So of course, because Bucky's heart doesn't get any chance to regroup, he doesn't have time to think before he blurts out. "We should have dinner together."

It's certainly not something Steve was expecting to hear. He just stares at Bucky. Before he has a chance to say anything, Bucky continues, "I mean. You should come for dinner. Clint and Nat are always around for a dinner, sometime between Christmas and New Year's. If you don't have any plans, it would be great if you came. But it's okay if you can't or don't want to."

Another moment passes and Bucky tries not to squirm under Steve's gaze. Luckily, Steve finally blinks and smiles as he says, "No, Buck, of course I'd love to come! I don't have any particular plans, will probably hang out with Sam for most of the break but I'll have plenty of time."

"You could take Sam with you," Bucky adds. He desperately tries to regain the control of his own mouth. "It'd be great to finally meet him."

"I'll let him know, I bet he’d be happy to come, too. Thanks again for the invite," Steve smiles as he cracks open the door. With a little wave, he walks out of the office. "Bye, Buck. Have a nice day."

"You too, Steve," Bucky says to the already closing door.

When Steve's gone, Bucky exhales heavily through his mouth as he leans back in his chair. Both of his hands go up to thread through his hair, tugging at it lightly.

Apparently, he has a dinner to prepare.

taglist: @steverrogers @till-the-end-of-the-line-punk @buckyshappyending

#where i'm meant to be #stucky #stevebucky #stucky fic #stevebucky fic #stevebucky fanfiction #stucky fanfitction #chapter 7 #my wrtiting #wimtb #sorry it took me so long!#i really hope you'll like it :')

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yellowmagicalgirl · 4 years

Text

All the ways we couldn't save you

Ladybug and Chat Noir defeat Hawk Moth and Mayura late on Friday night. On Monday morning, Mme. Bustier tells the class Adrien won't be coming to school anymore.

I don't consider myself to be in the Miraculous Ladybug fandom anymore, and I haven't watched most of seasons 2 and 3 nor do I have any desire to. However, I had this idea and I wanted to write it.

Timeline-wise, I guess this takes place sometime after Marinette becomes the Guardian? Though, the episode "Dark Owl" did not occur in order for this to properly work.

TRIGGER/SPOILER WARNING: This fic is about suicide. There is no happy ending.

AO3

FFN

Ladybug and Chat Noir defeated Hawk Moth and Mayura late on Friday night. Ladybug had taken the Miraculous from the two unconscious adults, pocketing them to take back to the Miraculous Box when she and Chat were done. Chat had found rope, and he and Ladybug had tied up Gabriel Agreste and Nathalie Sancouer. When the police arrived, the superheroes handed over the now ex-supervillains and re-entered the mansion, looking for any underlying threats.

"Should we wake him? Tell him?" Ladybug asked as they passed by the portrait of Adrien and his father.

"No," Chat said, eyes oddly downcast. "When Adrien wakes up, he's not... I don't think he's going to like having to live in the world he wakes up to. Let's not force him into it so soon."

Ladybug shivered as they made their way up to Hawk Moth's lair. Not because she felt cold, but something felt very wrong about this situation. She couldn't place why, though.

She shook her head, briefly. It must have been being so close to the Peacock Miraculous. That was what was setting her off. It had to be.

They found notes. Blueprints to a secret room. Ladybug pressed her lips together and glanced at her partner. She couldn't tell if it was the lighting or something else that made him seem so pale.

They found the coffin in an underground garden. There was something beautiful about it, in a horrifying way.

Adrien's mother looked so peaceful. She looked like might just be sleeping.

She wasn't breathing.

Chat Noir gasped. It was an ugly, wet, choking sound. "Why?"

"I don't know. Let's face it, Gabriel Agreste was an evil man. He kept his son locked up for years. Of course he'd keep his wife's corpse locked up, too."

"And not even tell his son."

After a minute of searching (and Chat staring at Emilie Agreste with an odd look on his face), Ladybug found the plugs to the life support. She wrapped her hand around one.

"What are you doing?" Chat asked her. He did not move.

"Chat, she's already dead."

"You don't know that."

Ladybug took out the butterfly miraculous, and pinned it to her suit. "Is she alive?" Ladybug asked, looking between the kwami and the woman in the coffin.

"No. Well, technically yes, but only because of life support. Her mind is gone," they said, shaking their head. "I already told Ma- Gabriel this before he even formed his first akuma, but he wouldn't listen."

"Is there a way we can bring her back?" Chat's voice was strained.

"That's why he wanted your miraculous," Nooroo said. "If you combine the Ladybug and Chat Noir miraculous together, you can grant a wish. But, that wish comes at a great cost. I tried to tell Gabriel this, too, but he wouldn't listen."

"What sort of cost?" Chat asked. Ladybug wrapped her fingers around the plug once more.

"A human life, and probably the one of someone he cared about," Nooroo said. Ladybug pulled the plug loose.

"What are you doing?" Chat turned to Ladybug, horror evident on his face. Ladybug continued pulling the plugs. "We're not the bad guys, Ladybug! We save people!"

"She's already gone. She's been dead for months," Ladybug said, dropping the last plug. "And sacrificing someone, anyone, isn't the right thing to do."

Chat stood rooted to the spot, eyes vacant.

"I'm going to go tell the police about her, so they can take her so she can finally get buried," Ladybug said. "Trust me, Chat, I didn't want to do this either."

"Go ahead." Chat's voice was flat.

Ladybug gave him a soft smile. "I'll meet up with you later. I'm glad this is over, but I'm also really tired."

"Yeah. I'm tired, too. It's over."

Marinette went to school on Monday morning, a smile on her face and a spring in her step. She had a box of celebratory cookies with her.

Hawk Moth and Mayura were gone, so she could be a normal girl with a normal life. She could go through school without worrying about having to miss class because of an akuma, or that her frustration with a failed quiz would lead to the downfall of Paris. In fact, she probably wouldn't fail as many quizzes, now, because now she could spend more time studying.

Adrien and Chloé weren't at school. Marinette frowned slightly as the minutes passed and neither of them walked into the classroom.

Mme. Bustier walked into the classroom, her arm around Sabrina's shoulders. Sabrina went to her seat, hugging herself. Sabrina seemed paler than normal, and her clothes seemed darker. Mme. Bustier's eyes were downcast, and her lips were pressed together. Her face looked slightly red.

"Adrien isn't going to be coming to class, anymore," she said. "Chloé will be... when she returns, don't press her about it. She's already not doing well."

"What? Why?" Alix asked. "Do the police think Adrien was working with his dad?"

"He did never get akumatized," Max said, and shrank down into his seat when the class turned to glare at him. "I'm not saying that he's at fault, I'm just saying it looks bad to an outside observer!"

Sabrina sank further into her seat.

"Okay, but didn't M. Agreste get akumatized himself? Into the Collector?" Alya said.

"Yeah, he did, Adrien was really torn up about it afterwards," Nino said, looking sadly at the empty seat.

"So the authorities shouldn't be blaming Adrien, then," Max said.

"Adrien isn't in any trouble," Mme. Bustier said. "He... Adrien was sick, and he succumbed to his illness on Saturday evening."

"Stop using euphemisms," Sabrina said. Her glare was so icy that it could've frozen the tears in her eyes. "Adrien killed himself."

On Monday night, Ladybug tried to call Chat Noir. She had given him space, because she had known he was mad at her, but she needed the one human who'd know why she felt so guilty.

He didn't respond.

On Tuesday, Marinette saw a tabloid wondering if Adrien's death was a cover up - if someone thought he was a threat. Thought that he would become the next Hawk Moth.

Marinette had never wanted to become Lady Noir again so badly as she did then, wanting to cataclysm the entire stand.

She called Chat Noir again that night. She still got no answer.

She didn't think he killed Adrien. If anything, Ladybug had killed Adrien.

Chloé came back to school on Wednesday, but it took Marinette a moment to recognize her.

Her long blonde hair was in a loose, low, lopsided ponytail. She didn't wear any of her usual eye makeup, and her foundation did little to disguise the redness around her eyes, the bags under them, and the paleness of her complexion. Her posture was hunched, like she was trying to make herself smaller. A plain golden ring was on her middle finger, but she wore no other jewelry.

Sabrina went to hug her.

"The funeral's on Saturday," Chloé said; her voice was soft and hoarse and didn't sound like her at all.

Throughout the lesson, Chloé stared at her ring with unfocused eyes.

On Friday, Mme. Bustier gave a lesson on mental health, and how to recognize signs of depression in someone else. It surprised her, that suddenly being happy after being sad for so long wasn't always a hopeful sign.

Out of the corner of her eye, Marinette saw Chloé flinch when their teacher mentioned that a suicidal person will give things important to them away.

Marinette didn't remember seeing most of these signs in Adrien. She remembered seeing some of them in Chat Noir.

Chat Noir still wasn't answering her calls.

It was a double funeral for both Emilie and Adrien. It made sense. Gabriel had not been allowed to go to his son's funeral, so the task fell to foreign relatives. It would be easier to bury both at the same time.

It was an open-coffin funeral. Emilie looked the same as she did when Ladybug had killed her.

Adrien looked so peaceful. He looked like might just be sleeping.

He wasn't breathing. If Marinette squinted the way she did when she used her lucky charm, she could almost see the signs underneath the mortician's makeup, showing where his neck had broken. They also hadn't covered up the tan line where Adrien's silver ring had been.

Chloé hugged Adrien's cousin, still wearing the gold ring she had worn to class.

Ladybug went out on patrol again on Sunday evening. She needed to clear her head so that all she would be able to think about would be way she had to swing in order to not fall.

She checked her yo-yo's map, to see where she was because she got too caught up. She saw an indicator to Chat Noir's location.

It was time to go find her partner.

The holder of the Cat Miraculous sat on a rooftop, knees curled to their chest. They stared at the Agreste mansion with unfocused eyes, specifically where Adrien's room had been.

They weren't Chat Noir.

She had long blonde hair was in a loose, low, lopsided ponytail, held by a dark green ribbon. Her torso, legs, and arms were coal-colored. Her collar, gloves, and thigh-high boots were the color of midnight, and all were at v-shaped angles. Her bell was on a dark green ribbon, and a dark green ribbon formed her tail as well. Her blue eyes had tears in them.

The Cat Miraculous holder looked up at Ladybug, and then back at Adrien's room. "I couldn't stop him." Her voice was soft and hoarse.

"Stop who?" Ladybug asked, sitting a few feet from the girl.

"The previous Chat. I couldn't stop him, and I should've known better. I should've known something was wrong. I should've known that something was wrong when he gave me a small jewelry box. Not that he had been Chat, of course, because it was a plain black box. But he wasn't wearing his ring when he gave me the box. I should've stayed with him."

"What happened to Chat?"

"It was all over the news."

"I didn't know his identity. He didn't know mine."

The girl's eyes narrowed as she glanced towards Ladybug. Her eyes unfocused again as she started staring at the Cat Miraculous.

"He hung himself. And his name was Adrien Agreste. And his body was still warm when I found him."

Ladybug hugged Chloé as she burst into tears.

Author's note: Here is how Chloe looks when she uses the cat miraculous.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous tales of ladybug and chat noir #ladybug #chat noir #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #chloe bourgeois #suicide tw #my writing #madame bustier #sabrina raincomprix #nooroo #chat!chloe

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liljungie · 5 years

Text

MVP | Jeon Jungkook | AU 3

Pairing: [ soccer player] jungkook x reader

Warnings: angst | slight smut

Part 1 / part 2 / part 3

Masterlist

How am I gonna get out of this?!

Panic rush through me as I look anywhere but her,It's not like I can say it was raining because the weather today was extremely sunny not a single cloud in the sky.

So that was out of the question and I started to think of anything that I could pass the blame on other than the weather.

"Well.." i scratch the back of my head suddenly every word I know vanished into thin air, making it impossible to form a sentence she looked at me waiting "Uh..jimin" I clap my hands together as I speak to grab her attention " p-pulled another prank on me" I said the first words that came to mind hoping they came out clearly "oh you poor thing! I'll tell kookie to talk to him you're a lady jimin can't treat you like that!" She huffed in annoyance.

Ugh why is she so nice? I can see why Jungkook fell for her...if only she wasn't so damn nice to me maybe I'd hate her enough to push away the guilt.

"I-It's okay- really.. jimin and I joke like that a lot he's only getting back at me for putting powdered peppers in his boxers.." I tried to laugh at the end but it came out so awkward and well...fake. but she luckily went with it "Oh that's mean" she says with a scowl on her face "not gonna lie I was weirded out seeing you in my boyfriend's Jersey"she laughed nervously, "but I think Jungkook witnessed what happened" she smiled laughing at the end which I assume she was laughing at the situation or me..

I felt a lump in my throat form I went pale at her words, my hands start to sweat so I quickly rub them against my jeans laughing along with her.

"I gotta go shower now bye!" I yell behind me walking fast to my room so I avoid any more questions "yeah you smell like semin...jimin is so mean" I hear her yell after me

I cringe as I hear her words "I'm sorry jimin" I say to one one, under my breath as I close the door behind me letting out a sigh of relief but deep down guilt ate away at me...

///

A week passed, I hadn't seen Jungkook since that day.

he didn't even try to reach me so I didn't bother either, my heart was mayhem but maybe not seeing him was for the better.

Even though it tore me apart inside.

My exams and assignments took most of my time, I barely had time for myself anyway.

I was chilling in my room in the afternoon writing an essay I had to hand in Monday while listening to music.

It was finally the weekend I'm done with my exams but I had a few things to hand out still and I finally got around it.

I faintly hear a knock on my door and pause the song and slide my chair over to the door opening it.

To find her, dressed nicely make up and hair done to perfection, she smiled at me "Jungkook is taking me on a date!" She squealed as my heart dropped.

she pushed the door more open and twirled in the middle of my room, her yellow dress was just above her knees, making her glow like a star "how do I look?!" She smiled as she looked me in the eyes waiting for my answer.

"Stunning" I replied my face drained of color I swolled the lump in my throat heat prickling down my neck as I stare at her, hurt evident on my features, she was checking herself on the tall mirror I had beside my desk.

He was taking her out on a date? A date?!

My mind was still processing what she said, so he does have free time to take her on dates but not text me at all?! Not even once this whole week!

"Really?!" She squealed once again, she was so happy seems like even gravity couldn't hold her down she was skipping with happiness.

The things I'd do to be her...

I only nodded my head, I felt like a shook up can of soda that was going to burst soon, with glossy eyes I tried to keep looking at her but I couldn't. I turned away.

"I have been dying to spend time with him now that my exams are over I'm gonna be by his side every single day" she says her eyes glowing. Probably day dreaming about the 'date'

"Mhm that's nice" I say as I slide my chair back to my desk, I didn't know I was crying, I curse under my breath. I can't let her see me.

"Oh I'm sorry if I disturbed you" she finally noticed that I was studying and turned to me thankfully my hair covered the side of my head so she couldn't see my face "I'll leave you now so you can study okay?" She giggled and walked to the door opening it slowly

"Fighting _____!" She shouted her fist in the air cheering me on as if that would make it easier I only sent her a small smile with a nod then my eyes went back on the screen the letters were so blurry.

"oh and I'm spending the weekend at his place so don't wait for me!" She giggled, I felt my chest tighten as I heard her say that, seconds passed and I heard my bedroom door closed shut. Finally.

I let out a sigh that felt like a sob I tried to distract myself by writing more, I turned up the volume of the music I tied my hair up to cool me down. frustrated I let it fall on my shoulders...nothing worked.

Nothing could shut my thoughts off, all I could think of was her in his arms, in his lap, kissing and touching him.

I could see images of him kissing and holding her like he held me...

"_____ I'm leaving now bye!" I heard her faintly yell from the living room breaking me away from my trance a few moments of silence and right when I heard her shut the apartment door close. I threw my phone at the mirror she was infront of minutes ago it all shattered along with my phone screaming in frustration I fell to the floor sobbing.

he consumed every inch of me he took over every part of me, and it's my falut that I let him get to me this way.

This close.

I felt my body burn and ache until I couldn't feel anything anymore and sleep took over me.

///

I woke up to banging on the door I sat up, confused, I looked around I was on the floor in the middle of my room I looked at the watch on the wall it read 12 am.

I must have slept for a long time.

I heard the banging again but louder this time oh so I wasn't dreaming? I wanted to yell her name so she could open the door instead but I remembered...everything.

I found it hard to stand up, or seems like my heart couldn't bare to do anything I'm so out of it, I feel so numb and so hurt. That even standing was too much for me to take.

I made my way to the door. in the dark living room I turned on the spot lights to provide a bit of light in so I could see better, my eyes were swollen from how much I cried and my vision is still blurry from the tears.I move my hair out of my face as I walk to the door slowly.

I open the door and there he stood.

Jungkook.

He sighs relieved and pulls me towards him.

"Oh my fucking God I was so afraid" he says, holding me tighter.

I was astonished I must be dreaming this, this can't be... she was over at his place how did he get out?

He pulled away and looked at me almost analyzing my face "I was so worried!" He tells me "I called you so many times why didn't you pick up?!" He scolds his grip on my arms was tight

He did?

How come it's ringing didn't wake me up?

Then I remember how I threw it at the mirror and I don't know if it was still working for not, I need a new phone for sure it seems.

I pull away and he looked at me hurt that I pushed him lightly off of me "you didn't text or call this whole week why does it suddenly matter?" I ask raising my eyebrows, arms crossed as I look up at him waiting for the answer that I longed for this whole week.

"_____" he sighed as he rubbed his temple "I'm sorry I couldn't I was dealing with a lot" he stated, clearly he didn't want to talk about it so I dropped the topic because I just don't think it matters anymore. It won't go anywhere because if there's one thing I'm sure of is jungkook keeps to himself and there's no way you'll ever get something out of him.

"Why you were waiting for me to call you?" A playful grin on his features, I stop in my tracks and turn around looking at him in disbelief, is this what he thought of me? who am I kidding this is all I'm ever gonna be for him. Just for pleasure. He can disappear for as long as he wants and expects me to wait for him.

"Not at all..I could care less about you" I say avoiding his eyes walking slowly back to my room until suddenly I'm turned face to face with him "stop avoiding me!" He harshly tells me, his eyes stare into mine and I feel my body give up on me and surrender to his touch.

His gaze was strong and the more he stared at me, his eyes softened"... you were crying weren't you baby?" He asks, His voice was so soft and quiet I felt my heart ignite with life agai, the way he was holding my face between his hands now tracing my cheeks with his thumbs soothingly.

"N-No I wasn't-" I groggily reply only for him to sigh "you don't have to lie to m-"

"Why are you here?" I ask cutting him off, pushing him away harder this time. I saw the way his face fell "you don't want me here?" He asks "you left her to see me?" He swoalled and bite his lip "yes" he answers in heart beat "..I told her I forgot my text book at taehyung's...and I just...I just wanted to see you" I look at his eyes sparkle for some reason he had this look on his face that just screamed at me to take him in my arms.

I used all my power to resist that urge and I stepped back, I feel tears start in my eyes again "Jungkook..." I whimpered

My heart aches because I know what I was going to say but my heart wasn't in it "we have to stop this" I cried

His eyes went wide and his mouth opened with shock and disbelief "_____ you can't do this...not now-please just listen to me-" he walks forward,his arms reach for mine I walk away from him pushing him away from me "we can't anymore...my heart can't take it!" I shouted tears fall endlessly, his gaze was too strong for me so I look away

"What are you saying _____?!" He shouted angrily "why push me away now? Huh?" He cried "tell me why are you doing this to us!" My back hits the wall behind me his hands come up on each side Trapping me.

I feel the emotions bottle up and boil inside me until they spill and I'm left feeling numb I met his eyes and the words I said next shocked him and myself..

"I love you!" I cried "Jungkook I love you!" I pause "but I can't do this anymore!" I tell him wiping my tears as more fall "please understand- I can't bear it I just-"

His lips closed on mine shutting me up.

The kiss was deep not his needy lustful kisses this was different...he kissed me passionately.

"Let me change your mind- I know I can" he pulled away his forehead touching mine "please baby..you can't do this..you can't do this to me!" I felt his tears drip down on my cheeks, seeing him like this broke my heart completely I let out a cry "but Jungkook it's wrong.." I whisper "she's sound asleep in your bed and you're...here with me" I tell him "this is not fair to her...this isn't fair to me! you have no idea of the pain I'm going through..." I say as I place my hands ontop of his hands that were holding my cheeks he had his eyes closed his breathing is uneven and shaky.

"Do you think I'm not suffering too?" He says his eyes bore into mine and I see the pain I feel swim in his eyes too "do you think this isn't hurting me?" He whispered

I shake my head "then break up with her!" I say loudly, to get it through his thick head.

"I can't!" He shouts "I just can't bring myself to!" He looks away from me as I taste my tears and stare at him heartbroken.

I cry "but you can bring yourself to see me in tears begging you to stay away when I want you?" I laugh "do I mean anything to you at all? do you even care about me?" I yell "do you even love me?" I whimpered, my chest heaving up and down.

"Yes I do _____!" He yells back. We're facing each other "stop I beg of you!" he cried tugging on his hair "seeing you cry because of me hurts like hell!" he says backing me up against the wall "good!" I reply my eyes sharply stare into his making his eyebrows raise "you drive me insane _____" he tells me placing his hands beside each side of my head "why can't I stop thinking of you! You! And the way you talk! your body! your scent! Anywhere I go all I think of is you!" He punched a hole in the wall right next to my face "so don't you dare and say that you don't matter to me..you consume me whole and I can't stay away" he pulls me closer his hands on my hips "let me love you _____..." he whispers.

"Let me take care of you stop being so stubborn angel and let me...please _____" he whispers his eyes held so much lust behind I felt his bulge against my inner thigh he leaves trail of kisses on my neck, I whimper and push him away with the little force left in me he stares at me angry.

I swallow the lump in my throat when he walks towards me again "you're horny and that's the only reason you're here" I state he stops dead in his tracks his face inches away from mine "you're only here for pleasure nothing else" I continue "at first it was an honest mistake but then it turned into a habit then I thought you loved me because why would you keep coming back?" I snorted tears pool in my eyes but I don't let them fall.

He wasn't worth it anymore "Jungkook I'm nothing but a game to you" I whisper "and I want out" I turn away from him his grip on my wrist stops me from walking away and he turns me to face him "tell me what I can do to prove you wrong!" His eyes pierce through mine he licks his lips "tell me what to do!" He says louder

I pull my hand out of his and stare into him intensely "I told you what to do" I swallow "because we can't keep doing this I'm done" I tell him walking to my room and I shut the door behind me.

He stood still even after the door had been shut, he was speechless.

Anger took over him he wanted to break your door open and have his way with you but your message was loud and clear so he turned away and closed the apartment door shut after him not wanting to argue with you anymore.

________

A/N: Hey I feel really stumped with this imagine so I need your opinion please how should I carry this on? I'm sorry for any mistakes and for the short part your opinion on this matters so please help me out here!

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