#N the cart i was pushing weighed more than me

[makkie-is-screaming]

I survived Costco (barely) !!!

[reidmarieprentiss]

Lost in Translation: Part Three

Summary: Derek sets up a meeting for you and Spencer. Old feelings resurface.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, mild angst

Warnings/Includes: insecurities, discussions of past issues

Word count: 7.2k

a/n: this took me so long my loves im sorrryyyyy i have been experiencing the worst writers block ever and i just keep starting stories and not finishing

main masterlist prologue part one part two part four

After another long day at work, Spencer found himself seeking out Derek again, the weight of everything gnawing at him more than he could handle. He caught Derek just as he was about to leave for the night, his anxiety written all over his face. 

"Derek," Spencer called out, his voice tentative, eyes darting around nervously.

Derek turned around, noticing the tension in Spencer's frame. He sighed quietly, already knowing what this was about. "What’s up, Reid?"

Spencer hesitated for a moment before asking, “Do you think she’ll ever forgive me?”

Derek paused, weighing his response carefully. He crossed his arms, his face thoughtful but firm. "Honestly, man, I don’t know. She’s hurt, and it's not something that’s going to just disappear overnight."

Spencer's shoulders slumped, the frustration and guilt heavy in his voice as he mumbled, “I messed up so badly. I don’t even know if she’ll ever be able to look at me the same way.”

Derek shook his head slowly. "Look, it’s not gonna happen overnight, and maybe not even for a long time. You have to be patient, Spencer. Respect her space, her boundaries. If she’s ready to talk, she’ll come to you. But you can’t force this."

Spencer ran a hand through his hair, clearly struggling with his emotions. "I just... I wish I could fix it. I hate knowing I hurt her like that."

Derek softened, his tone a little gentler now. "I get it. And I know you want to make things right. But sometimes, you just have to give people the time they need. If she’s ready to forgive, she’ll let you know. But right now? Just focus on being there if and when she’s ready."

Spencer nodded slowly, absorbing Derek's words. It wasn’t the answer he’d been hoping for, but he knew deep down that Derek was right. All he could do now was wait, as painful as that was.

"Thanks, Derek," Spencer muttered after a long pause.

Derek clapped him on the shoulder, offering a small, supportive smile. "Hang in there, kid. Just be patient."

—

You were at the grocery store, minding your own business, pushing your cart down the aisle and scanning the shelves for the brand of pasta you always bought. You spotted it, way up on the top shelf, and sighed, stretching up on your toes but still coming up short. Typical.

Suddenly, you felt a presence beside you. "Need some help with that?" came a familiar voice, and your heart skipped a beat. You turned to see Spencer standing there, his expression somewhere between awkward and hopeful.

For a split second, you froze. The last thing you expected was to run into him again, and here, of all places. But you managed a polite smile and nodded, stepping aside as Spencer easily reached up and grabbed the pasta from the top shelf. 

“Here you go,” he said, handing it to you. His fingers brushed yours for the briefest of moments, and you felt a rush of memories flood back, but you quickly pulled your hand away, holding the pasta against your chest like it was some sort of shield.

"Thanks," you mumbled, trying to avoid making eye contact. 

Spencer stood there, clearly waiting for the moment to stretch into something more, but you couldn’t handle it—not here, not now. 

“Well, um, I should keep going," you said, your voice a little too quick, too tight. "I’ve got a lot to get through." 

Spencer opened his mouth, probably to try and start a conversation, but you were already stepping past him. “See you around,” you added quickly, pushing your cart down the aisle, the tension thick between you.

You didn’t look back. You couldn’t. But as you walked away, you couldn’t help but feel Spencer’s eyes on you, the weight of everything unsaid lingering in the air.

After the grocery store run-in, you'd reached your breaking point. It wasn’t just Spencer showing up again; it was how seeing him churned up feelings you thought you’d buried deep. The confusion, the anger, the unresolved emotions—it was all too much. You’d tried to brush it off, to pretend like it didn’t affect you, but every time Spencer popped back into your life, those old wounds opened up again.

Derek noticed. He always did. He was the one who sat with you in silence after the grocery store encounter, watching as you pretended like everything was fine. Finally, he leaned forward, his voice gentle but firm. "Y/N, I can see it. You're not okay."

You swallowed, staring down at your coffee, fingers trembling slightly around the warm mug. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Derek,” you murmured, your voice low.

“It’s not about what I want you to say,” Derek replied softly. “It’s about what you need. You keep running into Spencer, and every time it’s eating you alive.”

You didn’t want to admit it, but he was right. You could feel it—each encounter was a reminder of the pain you’d carried for so long, and it was getting harder and harder to keep pretending like you were fine.

Derek paused for a moment, his voice softening even more. “You need to figure out what’s gonna help you heal, Y/N. You’ve been holding onto this for too long.”

That statement hit you like a punch to the gut. Healing. You hadn’t thought much about that—not really. You’d just been trying to ignore the past, trying to move forward without looking back. But now? Now it felt like you couldn’t move on until you faced it head-on.

After a long silence, you finally spoke, your voice barely above a whisper. “I want to talk to him.”

Derek looked up, surprised, but he didn’t say anything, waiting for you to continue.

You took a deep breath, the words tumbling out as you finally admitted the truth to yourself. “I need to talk to Spencer. Not to... forgive him, but to get closure. To... figure out what I need.”

Derek nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Okay. I can help with that. We’ll do it on your terms. No surprises.”

You felt a wave of relief wash over you. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

Derek gave you a small, reassuring smile. “I’ll arrange it. My place, no interruptions, just you and him. Whenever you’re ready.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt like you were taking control of your own story, and while the idea of facing Spencer still terrified you, there was a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, you’d finally get the answers—and the closure—you needed.

—

Derek had set the scene, arranging a cozy dinner at his place that looked almost like the setup for a romantic date, with warm lighting, neatly set plates, and a few candles casting a soft glow over the room. Spencer arrived first, his nerves evident as he fidgeted with the buttons on his blazer, glancing around the room with a mixture of hope and apprehension.

Seeing Spencer’s anxious expression, Derek couldn’t resist a grin. “Damn, pretty boy! You clean up nice,” he teased, giving Spencer an approving once-over and a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

Spencer tried to smile, though his eyes were still a little distant, the weight of the evening pressing down on him. “I don’t know, Derek… Do you really think this is going to go well?” he asked quietly, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

Derek squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. “Hey, you’re here, looking sharp, and ready to try. That’s all you can do, man. Just be honest, listen to what she has to say, and let the rest work itself out.” 

Spencer took a deep breath, nodding as he let Derek’s words settle over him, finding a small measure of calm amidst the swirling thoughts in his mind.

The two men spent their time waiting for you chatting, though Spencer’s nerves were evident in every glance he threw toward the door, each sound making him sit a little straighter, tighten his grip on his glass, and shift in his seat. Derek watched him with an amused grin, offering the occasional reassuring word, but knowing full well that Spencer was a bundle of tension no pep talk could completely unwind.

Then, the unmistakable sound of a key turning in the lock filled the quiet room. Spencer’s hand stilled on the glass as he took a deep, steadying breath. Derek chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Showtime,” he whispered, patting Spencer on the back just as you stepped through the door.

When Spencer looked up, the breath he’d taken seemed pointless. It left him in one swift, stunned exhale as he took in the sight of you. You looked radiant, your hair framing your face perfectly, your outfit both effortlessly chic and undeniably stunning. The way you carried yourself, that familiar confidence mingling with a hint of surprise as your eyes met his, left Spencer utterly captivated. He couldn't have said a word if he tried.

Derek, noticing the silent awe, cleared his throat with a playful smirk. “Well, I’ll leave you two to it,” he said, slipping out of the room, though not before giving Spencer an encouraging nod.

"Hi," Spencer breathed, his voice soft but full of emotion, his eyes drinking you in like he’d never seen you before.

"Hello, Spencer," you replied with a shy smile, your cheeks already feeling warm under his gaze. There was a hint of nervousness in your expression, but the familiarity between you two softened it into something almost tender.

“You look… beautiful,” he said, the words tumbling out with a raw sincerity that caught you off guard.

"Thank you," you murmured, your cheeks deepening in color as you smiled. "And you… well, you look quite dapper."

A surprised laugh escaped Spencer, his eyes lighting up. "Dapper? I don’t think I’ve ever been called that," he chuckled, a bit of his earlier tension melting away.

You found yourself laughing softly too, the moment pulling both of you into that easy rhythm you’d shared once upon a time. The atmosphere around you shifted, the laughter a small but hopeful bridge over the wide, silent gap of everything left unsaid between you.

After the tentative laughter fades, there’s a moment of quiet between you and Spencer, heavy with unsaid words. You both know why you’re here, but neither seems quite ready to dive into the painful conversation waiting in the wings. 

Spencer fidgets for a moment, his fingers running along the edge of the table. He takes a deep breath, steadying himself before looking up to meet your gaze.

"I know you don’t owe me anything," he begins, his voice unsteady but sincere. "But I want to say… I’m sorry. Truly, deeply sorry. For everything.”

You nod slowly, allowing him to continue, your expression guarded but open, ready to finally hear him out.

“I was… I was scared,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. “Back then, I thought that if I left first, I could protect myself. But in doing that, I hurt you in ways I can’t ever take back.”

“But why? Why were you scared? And what were you protecting yourself from?” You asked hesitantly, scared of his answer but needing to know. “Me?”

Spencer swallowed hard, your question piercing through the fragile wall he’d built around his emotions. He looked down, his fingers twitching as they brushed over the edge of his glass, his voice barely steady. “Not from you,” he murmured, shaking his head. “Never from you. But… from what I felt for you.”

He met your gaze, the vulnerability in his eyes startling and raw. “I wasn’t used to feeling that way, to… wanting something so much. I’d spent so much of my life being alone, thinking that maybe I didn’t need anyone, or rather, didn’t deserve anyone. But then… then you showed up, and everything I thought I knew didn’t make sense anymore.”

You felt a pang in your chest, hearing him admit it out loud. It was the answer you’d suspected, maybe even hoped for, but it didn’t ease the hurt. “So, instead of letting yourself feel, you chose to leave. Just like that?”

Spencer winced, the guilt etching deeper lines into his face. “I thought… I thought I was doing the right thing. That if I left, I’d spare us both—” He cut himself off, his voice trembling as he realized the selfishness in his own logic. “But I was wrong. I see that now. I see that every time I remember you, every time I think of the life I could’ve had with you if I’d just… if I’d just been braver.”

You take a breath, letting his words settle. There’s a part of you that wants to lash out, to ask why he thought his fear was more important than you. But instead, you just say, “I never understood why. I thought… I thought I’d done something wrong.”

Spencer’s face twists with regret. “No,” he says emphatically. “You did nothing wrong. You were kind, and patient, and everything I didn’t think I deserved. I was selfish and... immature, and I ran because I couldn’t handle what I felt for you. Because… everyone who had come before you left me. And I couldn’t stand the thought of you doing the same, I–I had to be the one to do the leaving.”

There’s a long pause as you both let the weight of the past sink in, the air between you thick with the echoes of everything that once was.

You took a shaky breath, absorbing his words, letting them wash over you like a bittersweet balm. The hurt still pulsed beneath the surface, but Spencer’s admission was a kind of validation—a small relief in knowing that he hadn’t left because of anything you’d done, but rather because of his own fears, his own pain. You could see it now, the scars of his past, etched into his expression as he looked at you, vulnerable and exposed.

“Spencer,” you murmured softly, searching his face, “you didn’t have to protect yourself from me. I would’ve stayed. I wanted you to stay.”

He closed his eyes briefly, as if the words stung, and when he opened them again, they were glassy with unshed tears. “I know that now,” he said, his voice a whisper filled with remorse. “And I hate that I wasn’t strong enough to believe it back then. I took the easy way out, and in doing that, I lost the best thing that ever happened to me.”

A lump formed in your throat as you considered everything he’d just laid bare. Part of you wanted to let that resentment simmer, to guard yourself, to keep holding him at a distance so he couldn’t hurt you again. But another part of you, the part that still remembered the warmth in his smile and the kindness in his eyes, wanted to believe that maybe this time, he was telling the truth. Maybe this time, he was ready to face his fears instead of running from them.

Finally, you nodded, your voice soft but steady. “Spencer, I don’t know if I can just forget everything that happened, or if we can ever go back to what we were.” You paused, swallowing the last remnants of bitterness in your throat. “But… I think I’m willing to see who we can be now… as friends.”

His face brightened, the relief evident as he let out a small, shaky breath, nodding fervently. “Thank you. Thank you for giving me even the smallest chance. I swear, I won’t take it for granted this time. I would love to be your friend again.”

Spencer’s words hung in the air between you, sincere and hopeful, filling the room with a kind of warmth you hadn’t felt in a long time. You watched as he visibly relaxed, the tension in his shoulders easing, the lines of worry on his face softening. He looked like he’d been holding his breath for years, and now, finally, he could breathe again.

You offered a tentative smile, feeling some of the weight lift from your own heart as well. “Good. Friends, then,” you said, letting the words settle, hoping they would feel real in time. It was a start—a cautious, careful start—and maybe that was all either of you could ask for right now.

Spencer reached for his glass, lifting it with a small, almost shy grin. “To friendship?”

You hesitated for just a second before picking up your own glass, meeting his gaze with a nod. “To friendship,” you echoed, clinking your glass gently against his.

For a moment, you both just sipped in silence, the atmosphere lighter, yet still laced with the unspoken acknowledgment of everything you’d been through to get to this point. But now there was something else too—a tentative trust, a fragile understanding, and a sense of hope that maybe, just maybe, you could both find a way forward. 

After a while, Spencer glanced at you with a soft smile. “So… does this mean I get to hear all about what’s been going on in your life? I feel like I’ve missed so much.”

You laughed, the sound coming easier now. “Maybe. But only if you tell me about yours. I imagine it’s been… eventful?”

Spencer chuckled, nodding. “Eventful is an understatement.” His smile grew, and you could see in his eyes a quiet gratitude—a promise, almost—that he wouldn’t let this new chance slip away.

And as the two of you fell into a familiar rhythm of conversation, it felt like the beginning of something healing, something honest—a friendship, perhaps, but one built on something much deeper, with a foundation strong enough to weather the past.

During the meal Derek set up, Spencer’s face lit up as he leaned in, his eyes sparkling with amusement and mild embarrassment. “So, picture this,” he began, already chuckling. “It’s my first day at the Bureau, and I’m nervous, right? I mean, I was 22, fresh out of college, and suddenly surrounded by all these experienced agents. And then, in walks Derek.”

You laughed, already picturing Derek’s confident stride, imagining him sizing up a much younger, slightly awkward Spencer.

“He takes one look at me,” Spencer continued, shaking his head, “and smirks like he’s just seen the nerdiest kid to ever walk through the doors of the FBI. I’m there, clutching a giant stack of files and notebooks, and he comes right up to me, flashing that classic Derek grin, and goes, ‘Hey, kid, did you get lost on a field trip?’”

You burst out laughing, covering your mouth as you imagined Spencer’s face at that moment. “No! He didn’t!”

“Oh, he did,” Spencer said, eyes widening with mock indignation, though his grin betrayed his amusement. “And it didn’t stop there. He called me ‘pretty boy’ and ‘kid’ within the first five minutes and has never stopped since.”

You shook your head, still laughing, picturing young Spencer being tossed right into Derek’s playful antics from the get-go. “I can totally see it. Poor you. And let me guess, you had no idea how to respond?”

“Absolutely none,” he replied, grinning sheepishly. “I just kind of blinked at him and stammered something about already having a map of the building… which only made him laugh harder.”

The two of you dissolved into giggles, your laughter filling the room as Spencer recounted more of his awkward encounters from that first day, each story making you laugh harder than the last. You felt a warmth spreading in your chest, the weight of the past slowly giving way to the simple joy of sharing these small moments together again.

Spencer’s eyes were already wide with anticipation as you leaned in this time, grinning with a story of your own. “Okay, the craziest job I have ever been on?,” you pondered Spencer’s question, setting the scene with a dramatic flourish. “A couple of months ago, I was hired to redo this guy’s entire downstairs ‘mancave’—you know, dark leather couches, endless sports memorabilia, a bar in the corner. The whole place just screamed midlife crisis.”

Spencer chuckled, leaning forward, clearly captivated. “Alright, I’m with you. Go on.”

“So, I’m there working, measuring walls, trying to envision the space,” you continued, “and the husband, who hired me, starts getting… a little too friendly. Like, way too friendly. He’s making these cheesy comments, trying to act all smooth, and I’m just politely nodding, desperately trying to get my work done without engaging.”

“Oh no,” Spencer said, shaking his head with a mix of laughter and disbelief. “And where was his wife during all this?”

“That’s the thing,” you said, leaning in closer, your eyes alight with excitement. “Right as he’s leaning over my shoulder, trying to impress me with some ‘fun fact’ about his baseball collection, his wife walks in. She takes one look at the situation—him practically draped over me like some tacky velvet blanket—and loses it.”

Spencer covered his mouth, his shoulders shaking with laughter. “You’re kidding!”

“Nope!” you laughed, savoring the memory. “She immediately tells me I’m fired—screaming at him, at me, at the whole mancave situation. I barely manage to grab my things and escape before things get even more awkward.”

Spencer’s eyes widened even more. “That’s insane! Did you still get paid?”

“Well, here’s the best part,” you said, grinning mischievously. “A few weeks later, I get a call. It’s her! She’s left him, found herself a nice little apartment across town, and wants to hire me again to redecorate her entire new place. She said, and I quote, ‘Let’s make this space reflect the woman I’m becoming. Classy, strong, and with no sign of men.’”

Spencer laughed so hard he had to catch his breath, shaking his head in disbelief. “That’s incredible. I can’t believe she rehired you after all of that!”

“Oh, trust me,” you said, still giggling. “It’s a project I will never forget. That apartment is full of plants, bright colors, and bookshelves—and not a single ‘mancave’ element in sight.”

Spencer chuckled, his gaze soft and warm, but beneath the smile was a glint of curiosity and a hunger for more. There was so much he wanted to ask, so many gaps in the last six years he yearned to fill in. 

“So, uh, how was the rest of your undergrad?” he ventured, his voice carrying a hint of the awkwardness he couldn’t quite shake. He’d been dancing around the question, unsure of where to begin.

You hesitated for a moment, then decided to keep things light. “Well, it was definitely boring without my favorite study buddy,” you teased, a playful smirk forming. “And, from what I heard, the rest of the students were utterly lost without their... shall we say, ‘nefarious professor?’”

Spencer groaned, instantly covering his face with his hands, his cheeks turning a noticeable shade of pink. “Oh god, you knew about that?”

You bit your lip, trying to hold back your laughter but failing as a small giggle escaped. “Your reputation precedes you, Professor.”

He peeked out from behind his hands, a mix of embarrassment and humor on his face. “I swear, I was young and stupid,” he mumbled, shaking his head with a self-deprecating smile. 

“Oh, I’m sure,” you laughed, but as the sound faded, your face softened, a more serious expression settling in. “That’s, uh… actually why I never made a move back then.”

“Oh,” Spencer murmured, the weight of the truth sinking in as he glanced down. He understood what you meant—that lingering fear you’d had, that you’d just be another one of his temporary flings, another notch in his belt. He sighed, regret lacing his voice. “That’s… that’s also why I never made a move.”

“Oh,” you echoed, the realization settling over both of you like a bittersweet memory, so many missed chances hanging between you.

You sat in silence for a moment, each of you processing the weight of that mutual hesitation, the missed opportunities. Spencer reached for his cup, taking a small sip before he looked up at you, his eyes searching yours. “I’m sorry for all of it. For making you feel like you couldn’t… that you weren’t different.”

You nodded slowly, offering him a small, understanding smile. “I know, Spencer. I know you didn’t mean for it to be that way. I think we were both just… scared.”

He smiled back, his gaze warm and grateful, the unspoken hope that maybe, just maybe, things could finally be different lingering in the air between you.

—

It had been a week since you and Spencer shared that dinner, and neither of you had been able to shake the lingering thoughts of each other. The quiet moments of laughter, the shared memories, and the glimmers of connection that you thought had faded—all of it kept replaying in your minds.

For you, it was a mix of nostalgia and something new altogether. Every time you caught yourself thinking of him, you were reminded of the sweetness that had initially drawn you to him all those years ago. Despite everything, he was still that kind, brilliant, and awkwardly charming man you’d fallen for. The more you thought about it, the more you realized that the qualities you had admired in him hadn’t changed—they were still very much a part of who he was.

For Spencer, the realization was even more profound. That evening had reawakened everything he had tried so hard to suppress. He found himself smiling at random moments, remembering your laugh, the way your eyes crinkled when you were amused, the ease with which you teased him. He’d always known he loved you, but after spending time with you again, he knew it with even more certainty. The essence of you—the parts of you that made him fall in love in the first place—were still there, and he wanted more than ever to be a part of your life.

Every time his phone buzzed, he felt a pang of hope, wondering if maybe it was you. Maybe you had gotten his number from Derek, maybe you looked him up. He debated asking Derek for your number and texting you just to say hello, but he held back, not wanting to push or ruin whatever tentative peace had grown between you both. Still, he couldn’t stop the quiet, enduring hope that maybe, just maybe, there was a future for you two.

Two weeks of silence had worn Spencer down to the point where he couldn’t hold back any longer. He found Derek by the copier, filling the quiet hum of the office with the one question that had been gnawing at him.

"Derek, has Y/N said anything about... the dinner?" Spencer’s voice was hesitant, his words laced with a mix of hope and nerves.

Derek chuckled, barely pausing as he fed another document into the copier. “Yeah, man, she said she had a great time.”

Spencer’s heart leaped, but the thrill was short-lived. "But she hasn’t reached out... do you think she's waiting for me to contact her first?" His words came out in a rush, almost pleading.

Derek turned, his expression shifting to one of mild confusion. “What? No, kid,” he shook his head, looking at Spencer like he was missing the obvious. “Y/N told me you two agreed to be friends. She’s not playing games. If you want her number, just ask her for it next time you see her.”

Spencer nodded slowly, absorbing Derek's words, but a hollow feeling lingered. Friends. It was supposed to feel like a step forward, but instead, he felt more uncertain than ever. Was she thinking about him, wondering about the possibilities, or had her life simply moved on while he was here, caught in a web of memories and what-ifs? The thought weighed on him as he returned to his desk, wondering if he’d ever get the courage to ask for more than just friendship.

Derek clapped a reassuring hand on Spencer’s shoulder, giving him a grin that held both pride and encouragement. "But hey," he said, his voice warm and steady, "I'm proud of you, kid. Sounds like you killed it. Y/N was singing your praises afterward."

Spencer’s eyes widened a little, a spark of hope igniting at Derek’s words. "She... she was?"

"Yeah," Derek chuckled, nodding. "Said you were charming, funny—even used the word 'dapper,' I think," he added with a smirk.

Spencer couldn’t help but let a small, pleased smile tug at the corners of his mouth. The knot of worry in his chest loosened just a bit. Knowing that you had spoken well of him, that you’d enjoyed the time together, made him feel like maybe, just maybe, this new beginning wasn’t such a long shot after all. 

“Thanks, Derek,” he murmured, his voice a little softer, the gratitude evident in his gaze. 

“Anytime, man,” Derek said, giving his shoulder a final pat. "Just keep being yourself. That’s the guy she was talking about."

—

Spencer’s patience was wearing thin. It had been weeks without a word, and he couldn’t shake the thought that friends should talk more often than this, right? The silence gnawed at him, pushing him to take a chance. After a moment of hesitation, he sought out Penelope to get your number.

With his heart pounding, he carefully typed out the message, fingers hovering over the screen before he finally hit send.

Hi, this is Spencer Reid. I hope it’s alright that I’m reaching out. I was wondering if you’d like to grab a coffee this weekend? Take care.

He stared at the screen for a moment, feeling the weight of vulnerability in those words, hoping he hadn’t overstepped but needing to take the swing. Now, all he could do was wait and hope you’d respond.

I'm sorry… who is this? you typed back, unable to resist a playful grin as you sent it. Then, before he could panic, you quickly added.

I only know a Professor Reid. But if you know him, could you tell him I would love to get coffee with him?

You hit send, giggling to yourself, picturing the look on his face when he read your teasing reply.

Spencer’s heart nearly stopped when he saw your response. For a split second, panic coursed through him, wondering if he’d gotten the wrong number. But then, as he read further, a grin broke across his face, and he shook his head, chuckling to himself. You hadn’t changed one bit.

Ah, I see you’re familiar with my more… scholarly persona. I’ll be sure to pass along the message to Professor Reid. He’ll be delighted to know you’re interested in coffee. Saturday at noon work for you?

As he hit send, he could already picture you laughing on the other end, and for the first time in weeks, the anticipation didn’t feel so heavy—it felt exciting.

—

You kept telling yourself this was just coffee. You’d agreed to be friends, and you were determined to honor that. But as you got ready, meticulously adjusting every detail of your outfit—a chic matching top and bottoms paired with Doc Martins—you couldn’t ignore the flutter in your chest. Deep down, you knew that with Spencer, the feelings you harbored were anything but platonic.

When you arrived at the coffee shop Spencer had chosen, you realized you’d never been there before. The place was an eclectic mix of books and cozy seating, and the scent of old paper mingled with freshly brewed coffee. It was the perfect spot for Spencer, practically radiating his energy, and you couldn’t help but smile, feeling like an 18-year-old college girl all over again, swooning over the man with his nose buried in a book.

As you approached, you took a moment to admire him. Spencer looked effortlessly dapper in a dark blazer over a burgundy sweater and dress shirt, his usual disheveled curls slightly tamed but still charmingly unruly. The sight of him made you feel breathless, as if no time had passed since those days in the library.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” you asked with a grin, echoing the very first words he had spoken to you all those years ago.

Spencer looked up, his eyes lighting up as he recognized the callback. “Of course, go ahead,” he replied, his voice warm with shared memories.

You giggled as you sat down. “What are you reading?” you asked, genuinely curious but also trying to ground yourself in casual conversation.

Spencer turned the book toward you, revealing the cover. To your surprise and delight, it was one of your favorite novels. “Good choice,” you grinned, giving him an approving nod.

Noticing his lack of coffee, you raised an eyebrow. “Do you want me to order you something when I go up?” you offered.

He shook his head, a shy smile playing on his lips. “I, uh, already ordered for us. They’re going to bring it to the table when it’s ready.”

“Oh?” You tilted your head, curiosity piqued. “What did you get?”

Spencer’s cheeks flushed, his expression sheepish. “Your regular... you know, from back in the day.”

“You remember?” You couldn’t help the slight blush creeping onto your cheeks, touched by the thoughtfulness of it.

“Eidetic memory,” he shrugged with a small smile, “but I’d remember it regardless.”

Before you could say more, the waiter arrived with your drinks. Spencer smiled in recognition. “Thanks, Andy,” he said, clearly a regular here.

“No problem, Dr. Reid,” Andy replied with a friendly grin. They glanced at you with a hint of mischief. “And who is this beautiful lady you have with you today?”

Spencer’s cheeks turned a deeper shade of red as he fumbled for words, but you chuckled, stepping in with a playful smile. “Just an old friend,” you said, giving Spencer a teasing look.

“Well, if you’re just a friend…” Andy grinned, a glint of charm in their eyes. “Could I get your number?” they asked, leaning in with a playful smirk.

You saw Spencer tense across from you, his expression a blend of flustered annoyance and barely concealed jealousy. His jaw tightened slightly as he tried to keep his cool, but the look in his eyes was unmistakable. 

“Um, su–sure,” you replied, holding back a grin as you took the napkin Andy handed you and scribbled your number on it. You probably wouldn’t text them back, but the idea of Spencer squirming just a little was too tempting to resist.

As Andy walked away with a wink, you turned to find Spencer still watching, his lips pursed and a faint pink coloring his cheeks. He fiddled with his cup, glancing down, then back at you, clearly trying to play it cool but not quite succeeding.

“Making friends, are we?” he asked, a playful edge in his voice, though the slight edge of jealousy was hard to miss.

You gave him a sweet, innocent smile. “What? I thought we were just friends,” you teased, raising your cup to your lips and taking a slow sip.

Spencer’s lips quirked up in a reluctant smile, his eyes softening as he watched you. “Touché,” he murmured, unable to hide his amusement—or, perhaps, his relief that you were still here, sharing this moment with him.

Spencer leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, a spark of newfound confidence in his eyes that you hadn’t seen back in your college days. He tilted his head slightly, studying you with an intensity that made your cheeks warm.

“So, you’re giving out your number to just anyone now, huh?” he asked, his voice laced with a teasing tone. His eyes never left yours, the hint of a smirk playing at his lips.

You let out a small laugh, trying to brush off the heat rising to your face. “What? I’m allowed to have friends,” you replied, aiming for casual but knowing you were failing miserably under his gaze.

“Friends…” he mused, his eyes drifting down to the way your fingers fidgeted with your cup. “That’s interesting, because I don’t remember you ever giving me your number back in college.”

The implication in his words sent a rush of butterflies through you. You tried to keep your composure, but the way he was looking at you—with that quiet, calculated confidence—made it impossible.

“Maybe you didn’t ask,” you countered, raising an eyebrow in challenge, though you felt your own heartbeat quicken at his proximity.

Spencer leaned in even closer, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Well, maybe I’m asking now.” His voice was soft, his gaze lingering on your lips before flicking back up to meet your eyes. He was clearly enjoying this, watching you get flustered in a way he’d never seen before.

You opened your mouth to respond but found yourself momentarily speechless. This wasn’t the Spencer you remembered—he was more self-assured, and the way he was looking at you made it clear that he wasn’t the same shy, awkward boy from college. You couldn’t help but glance down at his hand on the table, inches away from yours, and you felt the urge to close that gap.

He seemed to notice where your gaze had drifted, and his fingers brushed yours, sending a jolt of electricity through you. “So,” he said, his tone lower, almost daring, “if I asked for your number now, would I have to compete with Andy for your attention?”

You managed a breathless laugh, feeling your face heat up. “You clearly already got it from somewhere, but I think… maybe I could make an exception for you,” you replied, trying to match his confidence but failing as your voice wavered slightly.

Spencer’s smile widened, clearly pleased with himself. “Good,” he murmured, his thumb grazing the back of your hand for just a moment longer before he finally leaned back in his chair, giving you a little space to breathe.

But that look in his eyes remained, a silent promise that he wasn’t done teasing you just yet.

As the coffee moment faded, Spencer looked down at his cup, gathering his thoughts before asking the question that had been lingering in the back of his mind. He glanced up at you, a little hesitant but determined, his gaze soft yet intense.

“So… have you, um, been seeing anyone?” he asked, trying to keep his tone casual but failing as his voice took on a hint of vulnerability.

The question surprised you, and you couldn’t help but smile at his attempt to mask his curiosity. You met his eyes, shrugging slightly as you considered how to answer. “Not really. I’ve gone on a few dates here and there, but… nothing serious. No one really stuck, you know?”

Spencer's shoulders visibly relaxed, and he nodded, a small, almost relieved smile appearing on his lips. “Yeah, I get that,” he replied, his voice soft, as though he was processing your words.

You tilted your head, curiosity getting the better of you. “What about you, Spencer? Anyone special?”

He shook his head, a slight flush creeping up his neck. “No, not really. There were a few… attempts, well more like one I guess, but nothing meaningful. I think—” He hesitated, his eyes flicking back to yours, more serious now. “I think I was always… comparing them. To you.”

Your breath caught, and for a moment, you didn’t know what to say. His confession hung in the air between you, as heavy as it was tender, and you felt the warmth of his words settle into your chest.

“Spencer…” you began softly, not sure if you wanted to press further or just let the moment be.

He cleared his throat, shifting in his seat but not breaking eye contact. “I don’t mean to make things uncomfortable,” he added quickly, a little nervous laugh escaping. “I just… I don’t think anyone else ever really understood me the way you did. And I don’t know if anyone ever will.”

Your gaze softened, and without thinking, you reached across the table, letting your hand rest gently over his. “Spencer, I… I understand.” You could feel his fingers tense slightly under your touch before he relaxed, his hand turning just enough to hold yours back.

Neither of you spoke, but the quiet admission in his words, in the shared look between you, seemed to bridge the gap that had been lingering all these years. This wasn’t about the past, and it wasn’t about unfinished business—it was about the connection you both still felt, and maybe even the hope that there was more to come.

The silence stretched, not awkward but full, as if both of you were finally coming to terms with what had always been there, waiting. Spencer’s thumb brushed against the back of your hand, his gaze lingering on your intertwined fingers.

“Do you think… we could try again?” he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes searching yours with a mixture of hope and uncertainty.

Spencer’s face fell as your words hit him, the gentle hope in his expression dissolving into something more resigned, almost apologetic. “Spencer… no,” you said softly, each word a mixture of reluctance and finality. You took a steadying breath. “Or—I don’t know. We’ve only just started being friends again, and I need you to respect that.”

As you stood, gathering your bag, the emotions bubbling up inside were too much to process here. The vulnerability, the confusion, the lingering affection—all of it weighed too heavily. You needed space, a moment to breathe away from him and the swirl of old feelings coming to life.

“I need to go,” you murmured, almost to yourself. Then, louder, “I’m sorry.”

Spencer shot to his feet, reaching out as if he might stop you, his voice strained with a sudden desperation. “Y/N! Wait—please!”

But you couldn’t bear to look back, not with the uncertainty clouding your heart. You turned and made your way out of the café, each step feeling heavier than the last, his words echoing in your mind even as you slipped through the door and out into the open air.

Spencer’s heart broke as he watched you leave, the door chiming softly behind you as you stepped out of the coffee shop. He remained seated, staring at the spot where you’d been, his heart sinking with regret and longing. He’d overstepped, pushed too soon, and he knew it. The rush of seeing you again, the glimmer of hope, had clouded his judgment.

He ran a shaky hand through his hair, berating himself for his impatience. He’d waited years, and yet he couldn’t manage a few more months to let you feel comfortable, to let things develop naturally. All the lessons he thought he’d learned, the promises he’d made to himself to be careful, had crumbled the moment he was alone with you.

Taking a deep breath, he rose from his seat, leaving his unfinished coffee behind. He stepped outside, half-hoping he might see you down the street, but there was no sign of you. The crisp air bit at him, making everything feel sharper, clearer—he’d have to be patient. He’d have to show you he respected your boundaries and that he was capable of being your friend without expectation or pressure.

As he began his walk home, he took a deep breath, silently resolving to make things right. Next time, he’d wait. He’d listen. And he’d let you set the pace.

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

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[reiderwriter]

🍷 Alcohol Free 🍷

Week 1 of my Playlist series! Inspired by Alcohol Free by TWICE.

Summary: You're the designated driver for half of your friends, and Spencer is the designated driver for the other half, so why do you feel so buzzed when you're around him? OR; taking every opportunity when you finally meet Spencer Reid for the first time ♡

Warnings: fluff, mentions of alcohol consumption, but reader and Spencer are both sober. A/N: Welcome to week 1 of the Playlist! I think we started with an absolute banger, and for such a fun, upbeat song with this, I had to make this a fluff (sorry to all my smut and angst enjoyed, please be patient ����). I hope you enjoy it! Don't forget to send me more song recs, as I'll be writing one follower chosen song fic per month 🥳

Check out my masterlist here~

“How much have you had to drink exactly, Pen?” You laugh as you watch her wobble back and forth, at her table.

“We started with champagne and wine. And then there was the cocktail round, so, a few margaritas here and there. And a mojito. Maybe a mimosa. I think a guy bought me a pint colada at the bar earlier,” her words were so sharp you almost couldn't believe she'd drank anything at all, but the fact that she said all this while swaying gently from side to side had you giggling at her antics.

“Don't forget the tequila!” Penelope's friend Emily groaned from the other side of the table then were gathered at, face already flat on the surface as if her hangover had already hit.

You'd been friends with Penelope for over a year now, so you were acquainted with all of the girls there, and had agreed to come and meet them on one of their girls nights out. You were never a big drinker though, so you offered to be the designated driver for the half of the gang that were committed to Uber-ing home.

They'd been drinking since the mid afternoon, and by the time you'd gotten off work and cleaned up for the bar, it was obvious that they were going to be a handful.

“Y/N, YOU'RE REALLY PRETTY, YOU KNOW THAT RIGHT?” JJ shouted from her seat beside you.

“Thank you, JJ, you already said that three times tonight. Maybe we should get you some water?”

“And so kind too, my princess in shining armour,” Penelope giggled.

For most people, being the only sober person on a night out was hell, but you found yourself enjoying it more and more as the years went by. Drunk women were so much like kindergarteners when they reaches a certain blood alcohol level, and you loved seeing what your usually serious and cool girlfriends would come up with.

You also wanted to make sure they stayed safe, and with the impressive list of multiple alcohols they'd just ingested, you wondered if you should be carting them off to the emergency room then and there.

“I THINK YOU'D LIKE MY FRIEND SPENCER. HE'S NERDY. YOU'D MAKE CUTE BABIES.” JJ was still shouting all of her words, despite the bar being relatively quiet and you almost did a spit take with your water as she kept on.

“Stop trying to marry Spence off, Jennifer.” Penelope giggled, over pronouncing JJ's name as if it were her first time ever using the word.

You'd heard a lot about this Spencer Reid since you'd become close with the girls at the table, and honestly, you were happy that JJ deemed you good enough for their Spencer.

From the sounds of it, all three of them nagged at him like elder sisters who found him endearingly annoying, and were fiercely protective of him. It made you curious.

“Are you seeing anyone, Y/N?” Emily asked, finally lifting her head up slightly, but in a way that made it look like it weighed 500 lbs more than usual.

“I'm not.”

“Why? You're smoking. Half the men in here have been circling your like sharks for the hour you've been here.” You laughed at that and pushed a bottle of water in Emily's direction again, encouraging her to take small sips of water.

“I'm being serious! I may be drunk beyond belief but this is a sober thought.”

“Emily, I love you, but none of these men are interested in me. I'm practically a spinster. I'm 27, I have no money and no prospects, yada yada, already a burden to my parents.”

“That was something nerdy, I know that was something nerdy, my Spencie Senses are tingling,” she quipped.

And as if right on cue, a quiet voice popped up from behind you and all the hairs on your neck stood on edge as it happened.

“It's a quote from the 2005 Pride and Prejudice movie, so it's not really all that nerdy, Emily.” You turned, slightly startled in your seat as you finally met the elusive Doctor Spencer Reid.

“SPENCE!” JJ cheered, and the other girls similarly whooped at his entrance. They were overjoyed, but you were slightly overwhelmed, because not once in their descriptions of Spencer Reid had they ever told you that he was quite possibly one of the hottest men to ever grace this good Earth.

His hair was slightly curly, a mess of waves flopping into his eyes, but shorter on the sides, highlighting his sculpted jaw. He was tall, on the lean side and craning your neck to look up at him was a happy experience to say the least.

He greeted his friends and looked down to you, and you felt all the blood suddenly rush to your brain when your eyes locked. Dear God.

“Spencer, this is Y/N, my wonderful, gorgeous, single and attractive friend. Say hello, Spencer.”

“Hello,” he gladly followed the instructions Penelope gave him, and you practically giggled at the sound of his voice. Giggled.

“Hello. I'm the wonderful, gorgeous, attractive Y/N,” you waved at him slightly, but your brain wouldn't stop thumping around as you enjoyed the sight of the man.

“Penelope actually told me about you before. You're working at the indie bookstore near Café Density, right? Castle Books? I got a first edition of T.S. Eliot’s Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats there a few months ago.”

“You!” You gasped the word, as a garage of words fell from your mouth in a stream. “You bastard, I was saving for months to buy that thing, and three days before my paycheck I turn up and it was gone! Oh my god, how does it smell? Are the pages mustard yellow or still A little white? They never let me touch it because I almost burst into tears every time I got close.”

To your astonishment, he didn't recoil from your spitfire speech, but laughed happily.

“It's great, the illustrations are amazing. I didn't know someone else had their eye on it when I went in, I'm sorry.”

“Don't apologise for finding treasure. You'd be a horrible pirate if you did that.” You brain really wasn't connected with your mouth anymore and you resisted the urge to turn and bolt away from the discussion.

“Thank you? I'm not a pirate, but I think that was a compliment.”

“See, nerds made in heaven, JJ was right.” The panic built up again slightly and you were sure your brain was going to explode with all the heat that was flooding to your face.

“What's JJ right about?” Reid inquired, and you almost grasped your chest to stop your heart from beating out of it when he cocked his head to the side.

You hadn't had a lick of alcohol the entire night, and yet you're entire body was reacting like it was drunk on Spencer Reid.

“Oh just that you and Y/N here would make beautiful-”

“BEAUTIFUL CONVERSATIONS HAPPEN.” You quickly cut Penelope off, sending her a warning look that was less subtle than just straight up telling her to shut her mouth.

“Can we go now?” Emily dropped her head to the table again as she threw out the words, looking suddenly three shades greener than she was a moment before. “I think that last shot was the drink that broke the camel's liver, and I'm the camel.”

You passed her the water again and slowly started to help your friends gently gather their things, noticing that Spencer was doing the same.

No wonder these girls were so protective of him if this is how well he treats them. He was their coworker, but he would have absolutely been confused for a filial son for any of the three women as he helped them each.

“Where do you live, Y/N?” He asked casually as you both helped the women out of the bar and into the fresh air. “My car is a bit small, but we can throw these three in the back together and they'll mostly sleep until they get back to their homes.”

“Oh no, you don't have to do that, I can go by myself-”

“I can't let a drunk woman go home by herself, Penelope would give me hell in the morning.” This earned a few giggles from the women beside you. You thought you heard Emily mumbling “some profiler he is,” under her breath as well.

You hesitated. You should've been explaining that you hadn't had anything to drink yet, that you actually drove here yourself and that your car was likely parked right by his. You should've offered to take at least one woman off his hands for the night to share the burden of making sure your friends didn't die.

But it was true that each of the women was likely to completely pass out when they got into the car, like newborns being rocked to sleep by their mothers. And that left Spencer Reid free for conversation.

“Thank you, that would be really nice, actually,” you smiled and followed the man to his car, lugging your wonderfully buzzed friends behind you.

[violetarks]

"whoever kisses the other first, loses!"

anime: tokyo revengers

characters: hanagaki takemichi, sano 'mikey' mikey, ryuguji 'draken' ken, baji keisuke, hanma shuji

summary: teasing each other with a small game.

warnings: afab! reader, she/her pronouns used, pretty much ooc baji (touch-starved lil boy aw)

↣ hanagaki takemichi:

"You want to play a game?" Takemichi says, tilting his head at his girlfriend. She sat across from him at the breakfast table, drinking from her mug. "Well, what is it?"

"A game to see who's weaker for kisses." She teases, making her boyfriend furrow his brows. She can see that he already knows this is a terrible idea. But she presses on. "We'll go for as long as we can without kissing the other. Whoever caves first, loses. Pretty simple."

His first thought is that his girlfriend wanted to punish him. Maybe he forgot a date? Or he didn't pick up something she asked for?

"Okay, let's start now." She chimes, clapping her hand to signal the beginning, "Winner gets to choose penalty."

As she gets up from her spot to put her mug away, Takemichi eagerly follows with his own plates. "Um, so does that mean... hugs 'n stuff like that, are off the table?" He anxiously questions, setting his plates in the sink.

She glances at him and hums, "I guess not. We'd probably cry together if that were the case." She shakes her head with a small chuckle. "It was a game I saw online, so I wanted to see how it'd go with us."

These two were obviously not the most touch-iest couple in the world. Takemichi would hold her hand in public, and he wanted to keep all the affection in private. He doesn't want strangers peeping at their love like that.

So he could think that this game wouldn't be so hard for him.

Immediately after she speaks, Takemichi is holding her hand tightly. She blinks at him. "This should be a substitute then." He says with what confidence he has, "We're going grocery shopping today anyway."

Y/N grins back at him, squeezing his hand back. "That's right. The game should be easy." She says.

The day goes on, and soon they're at the shops grabbing some ingredients for dinner. By now, the game was in the furthest place in their heads. It's come back to normal, but Takemichi gets those lingering feelings of kissing her.

But no! He has to win!

If he does, he'll be able to get Y/N to take a day off whenever he wants. Granted, that was pretty much a win for the both of them. But he wanted to win.

"Do you want this sauce or that one?" Y/N questions, slipping her hand out of his to pick up each bottle. Takemichi misses the warmth as he weighs the options. When he finally chooses one, Y/N puts one down and the other into the cart.

Takemichi holds out his palm to grasp hers, but instead she puts both hands on the shopping cart handle and pushes away.

He stands there for a second, dumbfounded. He didn't know you could force a win like this. Y/N was good...

He tries to not let it bother him, hands in his pockets and playing with his fingers. But every time she pulls her hand away from the cart to grab something, his own fingers twitch to lace through hers. Takemichi won't allow that, holding his wrists behind his back.

"Are you okay, baby?" Y/N questions, looking over her shoulder to him.

He nods his head frantically, catching up with her. "Um, yeah! Hey, why don't you let me push the cart?" He offers, trying to sneak hid way back into hand holding.

"Sure, thanks Takemichi." She replies, stepping aside.

He goes and puts one hand on the cart, other at his side waiting to be held. But then she puts her hand in her pockets, humming a tune as she checks out the shelves. Takemichi wants to kick himself. She wasn't only taking kisses away, but hand holding? Was she crazy?

It goes on for the rest of the day, until the two of them come home and she is still not holding his hand. At this point, he's more than annoyed. He misses her. And she's stood there at his side the entire time. He's pouty and crossing his arms over his chest. It takes only a few moments after the shopping is away, that Y/N raises a brow.

"Something wrong, 'Michi?" She hums out.

And now Takemichi is looking away. She can practically see all the steam coming from his ears. "This game is stupid." He states in an irritated tone.

Y/N blinks at him before chuckling out, "It's only been an hour, Baby."

"That's impossible!" Takemichi states, waving his hand at it. This was ridiculous. "It's been at least six!"

That makes her laugh a little more. She walks towards him, resting her hands on his shoulders and feeling Takemichi's on her hips. "Well, I'm still going for the win here. I guess there's only one way to end the game..." She sneakily says, tilting her head. She feels him tapping his fingers against her.

Takemichi knows. And he's okay with losing at this game.

He's leaning forward and kissing her lips, one hand holding her cheek. He feels her smiles against him, which only makes his heart beat faster. He's lost, but Takemichi has never felt more rewarded.

When Y/N pulls away, she hugs him tightly. "Aw, Takemichi..." She huffs out, closing her eyes as he hugs back, "Always knew you were a sucker for me."

He's blushing brightly at that before hiding his face in her shoulder. "Then this game was for nothing." He grunts back.

She brushes fingers through his hair and kisses the side of his cheek. "I love you, Takemichi." She says, patting his back lightly, "You're so cute."

"I love you too, Y/N." He hums back to her, a smile dawning on his lips.

↣ sano 'mikey' manjiro:

"So needy." Draken spits out, rolling his eyes as Mikey waves his hand at her.

"What? The Hell you talkin' about?" Mikey retorts, still waving his hand.

"She's busy. She can't kiss you right now." His best friend explains, crossing his arms over his chest, "You need to let the girl breathe, you're gonna' suffocate her."

Mikey frowns at that, and drops his hand. "She always kisses me as soon as she sees me." He tells Draken, "And I'm not gonna' suffocate Y/N."

Draken tilts his head and raises a brow. "Oh really? I bet she can last longer without kisses than you can." He challenges the shorter boy, "If that's not true, then I suppose you really don't suffocate your girlfriend. As weird as it is."

Mikey squints at him. He then points at him. "You're right, I don't suffocate her. I'll take you up on that stupid bet. Winner has to buy dorayaki!" He calls just as Y/N walks towards them.

She smiles down at her boyfriend, who is sitting down on the park bench. "Hey, I didn't know you two would be here so early." She says, leaning towards Mikey to give his greeting kiss. But he turns away at that. She blinks. "Um... is something wrong?"

Draken chuckles, shaking his head at the behaviour, "He took up a dumb bet. He thinks he can last longer without kisses than you can. I don't believe him. The winner between us gets dorayaki."

Y/N deadpans, tilting her head, "You serious? You two made a bet about that?"

The two nod their heads. She sighs out, "Okay, whatever. I've got to get back to watching over the kids."

"Um, how much longer are you babysitting them for?" Mikey asks, perking up as she begins to walk away. He hadn't expected her to agree so easily and a part of him wished she did.

Y/N glances back at him. "Just for another hour. I thought you'd want to hang out after this, so I said to come him after." She reminds him, "Why don't you and Draken go grab something at the convenience store?"

Draken gets up, ready to go. Mikey stares at her for a second. Today was weird. He didn't get his greeting kiss and now he wasn't getting his farewell kiss. He pouts a little. But follows Draken anyways.

In all honesty, Y/N was a little upset by it too. But if she wanted Mikey to win, then she needed to be fair and play the game. It was stupid, sure, but Mikey loved dorayaki. Sometimes she thought more than he loved her, but he would always just says so anyway.

After the parents come pick the children up, Y/N is walking home with her bag over her shoulder. Draken had only come to make sure Mikey made it safe to Y/N, so now he had left them. Mikey had his hands in his pockets, watching Y/N. She was currently rubbing the back of her neck.

She sighs out, "You've eaten already, so do you want to sleep for a little?" When she looks over to Mikey, he's squinting at her. She raises a brow. "You look tired, Babe. We'll take a nap and then I can cook some dinner."

He nods his head, a smile drawing onto his face. He liked taking naps with Y/N, she always kept him warm. They go over to Y/N's apartment, Mikey hurrying them to go to sleep even though it was just after lunch. He's burying himself into the blankets, pulling the covers to his nose as he watches Y/N change her clothes. She moves in beside him, laying down and closes her eyes.

"Finally. I'm so tired." She says, smiling at her boyfriend.

He looks at her expectantly. When she notices, Y/N laughs and ruffles his hair, "No kisses, remember, Mikey? You were the one that made the bet with Draken. You wanna' drop out now? And lose?"

He furrows his brows and crosses his arms over his chest. "Hell no! I'm not losing to Kenny!" He claims.

Y/N rolls her eyes, turning on her side to face him. "Well then, don't give me that look. Go to bed, you loser." She jokes, opening her arms for him. He moves closer, burying his face into her neck and hugging her waist. "Sleep well, Mikey."

"You too, Y/N." He muffles into her skin.

A whole week. A whole week with no kisses. And Mikey is going insane.

He throws himself onto the couch, legs waving over the armrest as the door shuts. Draken and Emma have just left. But he noticed that she didn't want to leave before getting a greeting kiss from her boyfriend. Although hesitant at first, Draken did kiss her. And Mikey threw a pillow at him, scowling 'asshole'.

He sat there, feeling the most drained he's ever been. In all honesty, he thrived off of Y/N's attention and love. It's so nice having someone just always think of you, who wants the best for you, especially when it's returned. Makes it feel ever the better.

The entrance door opens and Mikey perks up, pushing himself off of the couch.

"Mikey? You home?" It's Y/N.

"Yes! Yes, I'm here!" He calls, trying to jump over the couch but instead, he falls flat on his face, causing a loud thump. He stays there for a second before hearing quick footsteps.

Y/N holds her breath before sighing out, "What's up with you? Takemichi told me that you were out of it all day." She kneels down in front of him, helping him up and holding his face in her hands. "I came over to see if you were sick or something."

He's resting his cheek in her palms, closing his eyes. "'m tired..." He tells her, "And I miss you."

This is him practically losing the bet. But Y/N only smiles wider and brush her fingers over his cheekbone.

"How about, I kiss you and you tell Draken that I forgot about the whole bet?" She offers, watching as he lights up at that, "You can win and get dorayaki. And kisses. So is that good?"

He's nodding his head so fast that that. She lets go of his face and then holds his hands instead. Instantly after that, Y/N is kissing Mikey and he's kissing just as eagerly back.

It lasts for a few seconds, and Mikey holds her closer so that she doesn't pull away. And she doesn't mind, she's missed him just as much. She moves forward, wrapping her arms around his neck before she can finally catch her breath. Mikey is now smiling back at her, looking the most dazed he's ever been.

He hums as she kisses his face gently, "Feel better now."

"Mhm." She retorts, "I thought Draken was meant to keep you from doing dumb shit. That bet was stupid."

"Very." He will never forgive Draken.

↣ ryuguji 'draken' ken:

"What are you guys talking about?" Y/N huffs, furrowing her brows and tilting her head at her friends.

Yamagishi is pushing his glasses up his face and states, "You and Draken! Ever since you two got together, we have all reported that you kiss each other like... four times within 10 minutes!"

She blinks at them. "Is that not normal?" She questions her best friends, watching as they all turn to Takemichi beside them.

"Uh, well... Me and Hina are still just... y'know." He sheepishly says, blushing profusely. They all deadpan. Of course, they haven't had this situation before. It was Takemichi and Hinata.

Makoto shakes his head at Takemichi. "There's nothing more than hand holding between them two." He claims, "It's Y/N and Draken that has everything going on there."

Y/N's jaw drops at that. She goes to say something when Takuya waves a hand at her. "You can't disagree with that." He chuckles, watching as she furrows her brows, "It's not a bad thing, you always liked to cling onto one of us before you started dating Draken. Like second nature to you."

"Do you guys... think I'm annoying Draken when I'm like that?" She mumbles out, looking down at her lap. All of them were sat at the Musashi Temple, waiting for the meeting to start.

The boys begin to panic. Takemichi is the first to speak up. "Of course not! Draken would've said something by now if he was really bothered!" He claims, making her frown a little more. He pats her shoulder. "I'm sure he doesn't mind."

She then stands up and faces her best friends. "I've come to a decision! I'm going to see how long we can last without kissing! If he kisses me first, then it's proof that I've... got a problem, or something." She tells the boys, "Ken is too nice to me to tell me that. None of you's tell him or Mikey, got it?"

The boys nod, thinking of all the ways this would go wrong. But the meeting begins as people draw in. Y/N is waiting outside the meeting, talking to Hina who had tagged along as well. Once it ends, she finds her and her friend splitting off to find their boyfriends. Draken is already behind her when she turns around.

"Hey." He says, hands in his pockets as she looks back to him, "Where did you want to go?"

He's leaning towards her to press a kiss to her lips, when she turns her head and begins to walk towards the exit. He raises a brow at her unnatural behaviour. She then speaks up, "Let's get some ice cream! It's pretty hot today."

Draken doesn't question it further, only following her out to his bike.

She wanted to give him space. Maybe he was really annoyed by her, but didn't care to tell her. Whether it be because she was too 'sensitive' or whatever. He has scolded her for not letting go of his hand when riding on his bike. Granted, it was her first time and she was nervous as Hell.

Because Y/N didn't want to pass out from the game she hadn't told Draken about, she still allowed them to hold hands. She held onto him looser than she usually would, eating her ice cream as they walked to sit down somewhere. Draken tried clasping her hand more firmer, however she would only counter it.

Something was off and Draken could tell. But, as always, he expected her to say something. Y/N was open with her feelings when the time was right, and he rarely had to ask what was wrong. Now, it was worrying him. He sat beside her, arm slung around her shoulders and bringing her closer.

He glanced down at her for a moment, seeing her zoning out and continuing to eat her treat. He took in a deep breath. "Is something wrong, Y/N?" He questions, leaning forward to try and lock eyes with her, "You're acting weird."

A part of her is at least happy he's worried. That he isn't relieved she's being like this. But that doesn't mean she'll let up.

"Nothing." She hums back, looking in the other direction, "It's just hot out here."

He raises a brow and pats her shoulder lightly. "You want me to drop you off home?" He asks her.

Now she's upset. But she gives him a small smile. "Sure."

This goes on for a few days.

Y/N is pretty much empty on power. Her friends have said she should just give up, recognising her energy. But Y/N is adamant on proving she doesn't always have to be kissy-kissy with Draken. And to see if maybe this was the better way to settle their relationship.

But now she's hanging out with Mikey. Who seems the be in the same mood.

"What did you do to Kenny?" He grumbles, sprawling all over the floor as Y/N does the same beside him, "He's been in this dumb mood all week and is taking it all out on me."

She retorts, blinking at the ceiling, "Haven't kissed him since Saturday."

He groans, lifting a fist and bonking the top of her head, "Are you kidding me? That's why? Just fucking make out with him already, I'm sick of it!"

Y/N shakes her head, hitting Mikey gently on his head as he did before to her. "No, I can't." She sighs out, "Wanna' see how long we last. The guys mentioned that I kiss Ken a lot, I thought I might be annoying him. So if he doesn't kiss me first, it just means that maybe I'm right."

Mikey glances back at her. Then somewhere else in the room.

"You're joking." Another voice calls from the living room entrance. The two look up from their spots on the floor. Draken looks pissed. "You're so fucking stupid."

Mikey is up and out of the room before Y/N even processes what the Hell is happening. She's sitting up and about to call out to stop the boy from leaving, but it's too late. The house entrance door shuts loudly, Mikey bolting out.

"Um..." She sputters out, sitting with her legs tucked beneath her. She feels as if she's been caught in a childish crime. She bows her head a little to him. "Sorry, Ken..."

He only lets out a sigh and walks towards her. Draken is now kneeling in front of her, knitted brows. Y/N looks away, embarrassed. But he takes her face in his palm, turning her to face him.

"If you do something dumb like that again, I'm actually going to leave you here with Mikey." Draken tells her, making her widen her eyes a little.

Next thing she knows is that he's gently peppering her face with kisses, making her close her eyes and hold onto his arms. Her heart is erupting in her chest and she smiles. When a second gives them a moment to breathe, Y/N is wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly.

"Sorry, Ken." She mumbles out again.

Another kiss on her lips. Draken huffs back, "You better be."

↣ baji keisuke:

"Do you really think it'll work?" Y/N questions, sipping her drink as she looks to her friends, "Playing the 'no kisses' game?"

Emma nods her head, holding up a fist. "It has to! Draken hasn't spent any time with me in the past few days." She claims, looking determined, "So giving him no kisses on our date tomorrow outta' show him!"

Hina leans back in her chair, holding her chin. "Hm... I'd try it out, but Takemichi isn't the one who initiates the kisses anyways." She chuckles, looking sheepish, "It's a bust for me. Although, I bet Emma could win her one! You have to fight hard for your love!"

Y/N smiles at them. It was really fun to hang out with them more often now.

Lately, the three were meeting up with each other more often since their boyfriends got more busy with Toman things. Emma and Y/N had been friends for ages and invited Hina in when she was introduced. Draken had told Emma to take care of Takemichi's girlfriend, and Baji had heard from Y/N that they became friends.

Sometimes, the boys would talk about their girlfriends always hanging out together. Draken didn't mind, but Baji and Takemichi really missed having their attention all the time. It made them pouty. Draken had to hit them on the head and tell them to let their girlfriends do something normal for once.

"And how about you, Y/N?" Emma questions, making her look up to her, "Are you going to try it out on Baji? You think he'll kiss you first before you do?"

She takes a cookie from the table in front of them. "That's kinda' hard." Y/N explains, looking to the girls, "We're pretty much even on that field."

"You should definitely try it then!" Hina says, clapping her hands together, "You could win it too. Just push through!"

Y/N chuckles at that and waves her hand, "I guess I'll try. It'll be pretty hard."

The hours pass and the three of them continue to hang out at Hina's apartment. Y/N had been thinking about the game. Sure, it was pretty stupid and just a way to tease their boyfriends. But maybe it would just show how much Baji really wanted those small kisses they shared. She would do it for sure.

Later that day, the girls split up and go home. Y/N had plans to go over to her boyfriend's house anyway, telling him that she'd help him study for that test they had next week. She hyped herself up for the little game, deciding it would be good to start it now.

Baji and her were close and somehow always knew when to hold the other's hand or kiss them. However, Y/N would be the one to kiss him more often. She enjoyed seeing how Baji blushed profusely after getting hit with a surprise smooch. And Baji would always hold her hand whenever he felt like it. It was a comfort thing and always told each other that they had someone there for them.

Baji's mother is the one who always greets her at the door.

"Y/N! How lovely to see you again." She says, embracing Y/N gently at the entrance, "Are you here for Keisuke again?"

She nods her head back at the question. "Yeah, we're studying again." She claims, earning another hum from her boyfriend's mother.

When Baji finally comes to meet her, his mother excuses herself back to the living room. Baji smiles at the sight of his girlfriend, engulfing her in a tight hug. He huffs out, "Do we really have to study? We could read some manga instead."

Y/N laughs lightly at that, patting his back and closing her eyes for a moment, "Come on, Kei, we can't. We already skipped last time because you were 'sick'."

He pouts a little at that as Y/N looks back at him. "I was sick." He claims before tugging her up to his room.

It's quiet as Y/N allows him to take her away. She thinks now would be a good time to start, considering how it's the first time they're hanging out since the girls talked about it. She sits at the desk with Baji squeezed right beside her, leg against hers and shoulders pressed together. He's clearly just leaning into her, head nearly falling on her shoulder as she explains the studies.

She swallows a little after noticing how Baji is just staring at her instead of the book he was meant to be paying attention to. It was cute, but he really needed to study this. Or else he'd fail. And Y/N really wanted to kiss him now, even though she knew she couldn't.

Because of all the tension, she gives him the problems set for revision by the teacher. "Do these. If you need help, just ask." She says awkwardly, leaning her chin in her palm as she looks away.

Baji is still looking at her. He's wondering why she hasn't kissed him yet. Usually, he'd get his as soon as Y/N sees him. But today, she didn't kiss him at all. Was it because he hugged her first? He definitely gave her time to give a little kiss.

Perhaps she was in a bad mood. Maybe something happened with Hina and Emma and she was annoyed. Baji decides not to ask, only putting his thoughts together to finish these questions. And now he's thinking, 'did I even learn this?'.

Y/N watches him closely, seeing how his eyes trace every question and he pokes his lip with the end of his pencil. She was cursing herself out for the stupid game. How could she win when he was sitting there, looking like this?

"Is this right?" He questions, knocking her out of her thoughts. He pushes the paper towards her, leaning into her side once again. He craved her touch now.

She clears her throat, knitted brows as she looks through it. She felt Baji slip his hand into hers beneath the desk. "Um... yeah, these are right." She says, pretty much lying. Baji knows it and she does too. She's just distracted.

"Nice!" He cheers, fist in air as he straightens up. He looks at her expectantly. When she asks 'what', he frowns more. "Where's my kiss?"

"I, um..." She mumbles out, looking away.

Baji's fist lowers at that. He frowns. "Wait... no kiss?" He questions.

Y/N knows she should stay strong! She promised she'd win!

But she doesn't have the heart to take that away from him. Not when he's done so well.

"Good job, Kei." She smiles and leans forward, hand on his cheek as she gives him one, two, three kisses. Baji is like a happy puppy, sitting up straighter and leaning in for more. He has a palm against her hand on his cheek. Now, he's energised and ready to do more 'studying'.

Kissing. He wants kisses.

Y/N can only apologise to the girls. She lost to her boyfriend.

↣ hanma shuji:

"Oh? Scared you'll lose?" Hanma challenges.

Y/N rolls her eyes. "You kidding me?" She scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest, "You'll be the one losing this stupid game. I'm just not sure you want to put yourself through such a punishment."

Hanma smirks at his girlfriend.

He had brought up doing a little game between them. No kisses from when the game starts, onward. Whoever caves first and does the smooching, loses. The winner gets to pick what the loser has to do. And Hanma is a firm believer that he can win this.

Y/N was known to be the one to give him to kisses. When he comes home after a fight? Kissing his forehead. When he's getting patched up? Kissing his knuckles. When he's entering the kitchen after sleeping in much too late? Kissing his cheek and calling him 'lazy'.

If Hanma didn't know any better, he'd say his girlfriend was obsessed with him.

Hanma doesn't know any better.

Because Y/N only gives him kisses as a sign of affection knowing he would die without them. Hanma is an attention-seeker, and if he doesn't have his girlfriend holding his hand or kissing his lips, then he's looking for her. Because where would she be if she wasn't doing that?

Hanma lifts a leg over his knee, sitting at the table as Y/N grabs the drinks. "Oh, honey, I'll win this easily. You really think you could last long without kissing me?" He teases, raising a brow as she rolls her eyes again, "Think about how much you'd miss me, miss me kissing you."

She closes the fridge, gently hitting it with her hip. She huffs back, pouring the glasses, "Whatever you say, baby." She places one of the glasses in front of her boyfriend, ruffling his hair as he pushes her hand away. "Let's do it then. The game starts now."

Hanma draws the rim of the glass, chin on his palm as Y/N sits beside him. She sips from her drink. "Remember to beg when you want me to kiss you."

It's lunch when they begin. It's all teasing and close kisses. Hanma is holding her hand as they sit in front of Kisaki. He's ranting on about his plan and Hanma is nodding his head. Y/N sits there. Although she isn't a part of the plan, Kisaki allowed her to be there since Hanma wouldn't pay attention any other way. It annoyed Kisaki. But what could he do?

Hanma loved Y/N.

Nothing he could do about that.

The two spend the whole day just trying to get the other to cave and lose. It spreads out to Y/N looking over Kisaki's shoulder as he works, asking to see what he was doing. Hanma sits back, rolling his eyes because he knows she doesn't really care. She just thinks if she's close enough to his best friend that Hanma will come over and be all jealous.

He is jealous though.

The game had nothing saying that they weren't allowed to hold hands, hug and flirt. So why did Y/N act as if that was so?

It's bed time now.

Y/N changes into her clothes and walks into the bedroom to see Hanma already there. He's flicking through his phone, waiting for Y/N. When he notices here, he puts his phone away and lays back on the mattress.

"Ah, you ready to forfeit?" Hanma teases, turning to her as she lifts the sheets, "I can tell you're cracking. You're so annoyed."

Y/N grins at him, running fingers through his hair. "You're so fucking irritating, baby." She claims, setting herself down beside him and untangling her fingers, "Goodnight, Shuji."

Hanma hums back in acknowledgement as Y/N turns off her lamp. She fixes the sheets over her and fluffs her pillow, giving a sigh as she gets comfortable. Today had been tiring, trying to get her boyfriend to lose this stupid game. She didn't even know where he got this idea from. But it would be fun to see him all pissed off by losing.

He turns his head to her, laying on his back. Because there's no way he's falling to sleep. Not when he's not getting his 'goodnight' kiss, like he usually would. Y/N would lean over and press her lips gently to his, mumbling a sweet 'goodnight' against him before hugging him tightly.

But now, she faced away and hugged the blanket to her chest.

'That should be me', Hanma thinks, sitting up to see her. He's annoyed now, but lays back down as if nothing was bothering him.

He twists. And turns. And shifts in bed. He's pulling the blanket away from Y/N, but she's trying to fall asleep. Hanma clicks his tongue and crosses his arms over his chest, glaring at the ceiling.

Y/N can feel all of this. Because the bed is practically vibrating with all the annoying movements he's doing. So she turns over and faces him.

"What the fuck, Shuji." She groans, wiping her eyes, "Aren't you tired?"

"'Course I am." He scoffs, pout tugging on his lips and knitted brows as he faces her as well, "But I can't sleep."

She reaches out a hand to hold his, taking it off his chest and lacing her fingers through his. "Why not, baby?" She asks, covering her yawn with her other hand. She brushes her fingers over his knuckles.

"Y'know why." He grumbles, closing his eyes.

And she really doesn't. She's completely at a loss. But she needs Hanma to go to sleep because he needs to get something picked up for Kisaki. As much as she knows she can just let him forget about it, Hanma would be in a more shittier mood after Kisaki lectures him about it.

"I don't." She whispers back, shifting her body closer to him. She wraps her arms around his and hugs him tight. Hanma can find some comfort in that. But that's not what he needs. "Tell me what's wrong."

He mumbles something quietly that she can't make out, so she leans up on her elbows and asks again. He thinks she's doing this on purpose, so he looks away this time.

"You... didn't kiss me 'goodnight'..." He grumbles out.

That's when Y/N grins at him.

She pokes his cheek and giggles out, "Aw, but what about this game? I thought you were gonna' make me lose, Shuji. Is this your way of forfeiting?" She leans onto his chest, chin on her hand as she feels Hanma's fingers dance along her back. "What happened to confident Shuji who was gonna' win so easily? Don't tell me you're giving up already. It hasn't even been a day."

Hanma is kicking himself and cursing out Y/N. Because he's dumb. And she's too smart for this. Hanma made an 'in the moment' decision. He saw some stupid couple do it on a video and the guy was pathetic, losing after a few days. He thought Y/N would be the one losing. But here he was, close to begging for her to kiss him.

He doesn't say anything, letting his girlfriend have her fun. He feels an embarrassed blush flood his face before placing a hand over his eyes.

"Are ya' done yet?" He groans, earning another cheeky smirk from Y/N, "Fucking killing me here..."

"Aw, I'm sorry, baby." She hums back, drawing circles on his chest, "Just say you give up and I'll give you a kiss."

Hanma bites the inside of his cheek at that. His girlfriend was so annoying, wasn't she? Why was she being so mean to him? He didn't do anything! He's innocent!

"I... Fuck, I give up, okay?" He calls out, lifting his hand from his face.

Y/N lifts herself up and hovers over him. "There you go, Shuji." She whispers out before leaning down and pressing a kiss to his lips.

Hanma holds the back of her neck to keep her in his spot. Y/N is smirking against his lips, because he's losing and she gets to pick what happens because of it.

Maybe she'll have a date night out at that nice restaurant downtown. Or she'll have him clean up the house. No, she wasn't that mean.

There was a good chance she just wanted him to stay home, watch some movies and cuddle on the couch. All she wanted was to have her boyfriend to herself for a day.

She pulls away after giving him some more kisses. She sighs out, brushing the hair away from his face, "Much more pretty when you lose, aren't you, Shuji?"

He just hugs her to his chest, still burning red with embarrassment. "Yeah, yeah..." He huffs.

To think, Hanma was fine the rest of the day except for tonight. All that, to lose. At least he got his kiss.

[mooncakesofpan]

Love On a Wire

Eddie x Gn!Reader 

Summary: With your own feelings for Eddie Munson starts to eat you up, what's to say you’ll be able to keep lifting him up. 

A/n: this is gonna be a fix it fic series with a bit of a slow burn. pretty much no descriptors of the reader. i got a series of ideas from the song black sheep by the Metric I don't own the song but in the fic were pretending the reader wrote it.

Word count: 1.3K

Warnings: angst, suggestive content (eventually) , Slight unrequited feelings, Slow burn, No pronouns mentioned   

Chapter: 1

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DO NOT STEAL MY WORK

I will never forget the day he walked into my parents' music store that day with cash in hand for the guitar he would come in and look at every day for the past few years.

“There you go L/n.” 

He says slapping the money on the counter as I go to ring him up. Grabbing the case for the red guitar. “Hey, your friends with Gareth right or well you play DnD with him right,” I say I've been playing with Gareth and writing songs for a while. 

“Uh yeah, he's in hellfire why,” Eddie says confused. 

“Now that you've got this beauty, why don't you come check us out? We call ourselves the corroded coffin,” I say, smirking from behind the counter. 

I  grab his receipt and some items to give to him some good stings.

“Are you inviting me to play with you L/n?” He says with a teasing tone making my body feel warm. 

“Technically no, that's up to Gareth but I'll talk to him”

That was 4 years ago.

I'm still singing with the corroded coffin and Eddie been a great guitarist. We had been really close but for some reason this year he's been really distant. My crush on Eddie was weighing on me. I had graduated but I still go to Hawkins high to help with some of the band stuff and bring stuff between the school and the music shop. I stopped in the hall rolling a cart of instruments more like riding down the clear hall. When I hear whispering and see Eddie and some cheerleader short blonde with a high ponytail not long barely reaching the back of her neck but the way Eddie looked at her I'm not entirely sure what I'm looking at Eddie Munson talking no ogling at a cheerleader. It hurt but I'm not gonna not support my friend but my hand knocked my clipboard off the cart 

“Oh fuck” I say scrambling to try and catch it the girl looked back and scurried off Eddie watching her with a look he's never given me. Eddie sees me in the hall and jogs up to me 

“Hey y/n what are you doing here”

“Oh, I had to get some band instruments for my dad to fix,” I say motioning to the cart in front of me. “What is Eddie the freak Munson doing with a cheerleader?” 

“Oh, nothing-”

“Oh come on Eddie that didn't look like nothing,” I say, nudging him with my hip as he walked next to me.

“Okay maybe it's a little more than nothing,” he says chewing on his nails 

I still push the heavy cart of band instruments down the hall.

“What's a little more than nothing Eddie,” I say with a look that says ‘really’

He pushes against the cart towards me making me stop 

“We might have kissed,” he says an excited smile on his lips and those chocolate eyes wide with excitement 

“Eddie Munson kissed a cheerleader” 

“Yes these lips have been graced by the lips of an angel,” he says walking in front of the cart, arms opened dramatically one clutching his chest.

I laugh “congrats what happened to your little grudge,” I say playfully 

“Well N/n a grudge isn't gonna get in the way of a little love,” he says being over dramatic I laugh 

As I finally got to my truck. “Now are you gonna sit there like a lost puppy or you gonna help me get this stuff in my truck,” I say as he nods realizing by walking all the way to my truck was gonna involve him in getting the sousaphones and trumpet cases in my truck bed. 

“On it” 

Practice for me was hard I wanted to bring up a song to try one I wrote I've been working on it for months I brought the sheets of music to the garage that belong to Gareth's family 

“So I got a song but you guys have to promise not to make fun of me” 

Gareth looks at the folder of music. Looking over the lyrics ���this is kinda sappy y/n”

“Trust me I know I wrote it dingus,” I say looking around not seeing Eddie

“Where’s Munson,” I say

 “uh I don't know, I think with that cheerleader he knows we meet Tuesdays and Thursdays,”  Jeff says shrugging 

“Great let just start running threw it,” I say irritated grabbing my guitar 

We started playing the notes working out kinks with chords or rhymes an hour into practice in the garage Eddie shows up I roll my eyes 

“Guy look who had the balls to show up,” I say with a sarcastic smile on my face

“I'm sorry I had to make an uh sale” running in with his guitar “chop chop Eddie boy,” I say

Grabbing the tambourine I wanted to add since Eddie was gonna take over with the guitar. 

“Gareth can you give Eddie the notes,” I say Eddie starts playing getting notes easily enough 

"Hello again friend of a friend

 I knew you when,

Our common goal 

was waiting for the world to end  

And now the truth is just a rule that you can bend. 

You crack the whip shapeshift and trick the past again”

I put my heart and soul into the words going into the mic as I continue to sing I make eye contact with Eddie. 

“I’ll send you my love on a wire 

Lift you up every time 

Everyone ooh pulls way ooh

From you 

Ooh '' 

it was like everything stopped for a second. I was the one to break contact with Eddie first going back to hitting the tambourine against my hand. Focusing on that suddenly the snare in the background stopped and we all look back at Gareth “fuck sorry” he says 

“No no, you're good uh I gotta go my shift for work starts I'll see you guys later,” I say rushing grabbing my stuff, and heading out the door I wasn't lying about that but part of me just didn't wanna face Eddie. So I was essentially running from my problems 

Not long after I get to work I see Eddie walk through the door, the person I wanted to avoid. 

“So what was that back there”

“Gonna have to be a bit more specific Munson,” I say looking up from the catalog in front of me 

“I don’t know all of that,” he says vaguely 

``Are you talking about the lyrics or me leaving for work because I did, in fact have work as you can clearly see Munson you are standing in the center of my job,” I say 

“I just wanna know what's wrong you seem mad at me,” he says his hands shoved in his pockets 

“Eddie, this is the first time you've ever been late to a practice what the fuck,” I say exasperated I let out a sigh to put some stuff away. 

“I'm sorry I said I had a … sale with someone”

“That cheerleader”

“yes, “ he said as he sat on the counter 

“Look I'm sorry okay, you've been acting odd recently what's up” 

“Whatever Eddie just gets out I need to work and you're currently a distraction and not the good type,” That's a lie he is the good type of distraction I say not acknowledging the end of the statement 

 But I'm a bit mad at him and frustrated with myself for falling so hard for someone who only sees me as a close friend.   He puts his hands up in defense and walks backward out the door. 

After that day I had been fairly distant I pretty much was only at practice and work and would head out with the boys anymore, 

Oh, Eddie if only you knew.

Chapter: 1 | 2 |

Taglist: feel free to reblog and/or ask to be in the taglist 

@solarcoffee

[littlemousedroid]

It’s A Tradition

Pairing: Wrecker x female reader

Summary: Wrecker and Omega make friends with the nice girl who sells Mantell Mix. She is stuck on Ord Mantell working with her aunt after her parents sent her away to protect her from the Empire. She hates being stuck but Wrecker and Omega help her pass the time. This is a slow burn romance between Reader and Wrecker.

Rating: T for now, references to canon typical violence and trauma. It’s fluffy to start but there might be some angst on the horizon.

Reader description: Reader is the niece of the Pantoran shop owner first seen in season 1 episode 7. There are no physical descriptions beyond having hair. She is given a nickname. She has a complicated relationship with her parents.

A/N: This is a multi-part fic. I have 7 chapters so far and will probably have 5+ more to get through Season 1. I started writing this for purely self-indulgent reasons and thought I would share my love of Wrecker and Omega. I’m posting the first chapter today, my birthday! I’ll post the next chapter on May the 4th.

Comments and reblogs are appreciated. This is my first longer work and I would love the feedback.

——————————————————

Chapter One

You came up to the stand to find a little blond girl and an armored man. They were buying two cartons of Mantell Mix. Your aunt’s recipe had quickly become a local favorite. Sweet and spicy popped grains served warm.

After handing the overflowing boxes to the customers she caught sight of you, gruffly calling your name. She wasn’t the softest women under the best of circumstances but now you were late. She had expected you an hour ago. It wasn’t your fault the delivery was late! And your cart was busted! You’d been forced to drag the shipment across the market making your trip twice as long and ten times more exhausting.

Her shouting had captured the attention of the little girl. She motioned for the man to look your direction, “Wrecker, you should help her.”

“Huh?”

“Help her,” she gestured again to you. Tapping his arms for emphasis.

“Oh yeah!” He sputtered as he pushed his snack into her arms and dashed away.

You were startled to look up and see the man bounding in your direction.

“Ya need any help with that?”

You were drenched in sweat, obviously struggling but you had made it this far, what was a few more meters.

“No, uh, thanks. I can manage.”

“Just because you can doesn’t mean you have to,” Wrecker argued.

You stopped your struggling, “that’s a good point.” You stepped aside so he had room to work.

“I’m stronger than you so why shouldn’t I help ya? I’m sure your good with…something.”

Watching him lift your cart like it weighed nothing was amazing.

“You’re definitely right. Let me show you where to put that.”

You led the man off of the street and into the stall. The little girl followed close behind.

“I’m Omega and this is Wrecker. We couldn’t help but catch your name, thanks to the shouting,” she said, through mouthfuls of Mantell Mix.

“Thank you Wrecker for your help. And thank you too Omega.” You smiled at them both as you returned to the street.

Just as Wrecker started to speak, their comms beeped simultaneously. “I guess we better get goin’ before they send a search party after us.”

“Why would someone send a search party?” You asked without thinking.

“Because of the bounty hu-“ Omega started before getting cut off by Wrecker scooping her up to his shoulders.

“Well, I’m sure we’ll see ya ‘round” he huffed as he jogged off into the maze that was Ord Mantell City leaving you standing in awe. That was the weirdest thing, it’s like he was running away from your questions.

You shrugged it off and went inside to unpack the delivery. Your aunt begrudgingly followed you, no doubt ready to tell you off for being late. But as you turned around her look softened.

“They work for Cid. I don’t know the details or ask any questions but I know she's letting them take whatever they need,” she gestured around, “from my stall and others throughout the market.”

You moved to interrupt but she continued, “They must be doing something important if she is willing to foot the bill without question. Important and secret and dangerous,” she punctuated each word with a finger to your chest. “I need you to be careful and don’t go picking up strays.”

“I don’t pick up strays,” you groaned, “and besides, I’ll probably never see them again since I leave in a few weeks anyway.”

“Oh you’ll see them again, “ she laughed, “that man can eat his weight in Mix.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the mental image, after already seeing the way Omega shoveled the mix into her mouth, easily picturing Wrecker doing the same.

“I’ll be careful,” you promised. Your aunt was a difficult person to like but she loved you and had looked out for you since you came to Ord Mantell.

But you were still curious and there was no doubt in your mind that you were going to find out more about this stranger and his secrets.

Chapter 2

[nsheetee]

One Foot in the Golden Life

Pairing: rich kid!renjun x caddie!reader Genre: rich kid AU, university au, romance, slight angst, mature content Length: 9.7k Summary: this is the story of a boy who is constantly pushed down by his father, a girl who just wants to not live paycheck to paycheck, and how they met on a golf course.  Warnings/Details: includes mentions of other NCT members, female reader, swearing, inaccurate depiction of golf, acts of sexual harassment towards the reader, mature content (unprotected sex, coming inside, oral [female receiving])

a/n: a big thank you to @insomni-writing​ for beta reading this ♡ also, if you are a minor, please beware that there is mature content in this fic!

You thought it would be the perfect opportunity to work at the most well-known country club in the state, but really the only thing your job brought you was perpetual cold to your hands and feet, and entangled your simple life with one of the youngest and richest bachelors at your university.

The only place on top of Mt. Carla is the Augusta Country Club, and it is a sight to see by the regular people who gaze up at it from the city below, like mortals looking up into the Gods’ chamber. The first time you went up the mountain for your job interview at the club, you got lost and were almost late. Thankfully, you didn’t crash your car on the winding roads, and got the job as well.

The Augusta Country Club is equipped with the largest and most expensive golf course in the region, but also has Michilin approved restaurants and the finest saunas and gym equipment any CEO could ask for. Those are usually the type of people that have club memberships: CEO’s, congress men and women, top-notch lawyers, and maybe the odd business owner that made it big enough to afford the price tag.

When you took up the job as a caddie, you had an idea of what you were getting yourself into. You’ve only been working for a month, but there are already a few regular golf players that prefer you as their caddie, which in your book is a success considering the type of high profile people that come to relax here.

However, today is different.

You can sense it when Kara and Mina, your coworkers who have been working here for a year longer than you, walk towards you and your friend, Lia, before your shift today. Mina has a small stack of info cards in her hands and they both hold smug smiles on their faces. The info cards have everything a caddie needs to know about who they’ll be working for that shift, and by the looks of it, today’s game will have a good match up.

“I’m going to be Mr. Huang’s son’s caddie. Don’t even fight me on this, you know I’ll win.” Kara states boldly as the two girls stop in front of you, snatching an info card out of Mina’s hand when she holds them up like she’s playing a card game, flashing the photos and names on the cards at you.

“I call dibs on Mr. Lee’s son.” Mina hums, not even bothering to keep up the act that they just want to be good caddies. “You two can have the old men.” She smiles tightly, shoving the other two info cards into Lia’s grasp and turning on her heel to walk away with Kara.

Considering you don’t even know what they’re talking about, you have no right to be mad at them. There is more confusion clouding your mind than anger at their rudeness. However, Lia does not share the same sentiment.

“I’ll shove these info cards up their-” Lia fumes, her volume rising as the sentence went on, and you quickly pulled her out of ear shot, around a corner by the bathrooms. “-stuck up two faced asses!”

“Lia…” You mutter, her wording making you shake your head at how unstable her temper is, “They’ve been working here for a lot longer than we have, just let them have those clients. Either way, what’s it to you?”

“What’s it to me? ___, they’re talking about Lee Jeno and Huang Renjun. I know I told you about them before.” Lia states like she expects you to have those two names tattooed on the front lobe of your brain already.

“I think I remember them…. They go to our University, right?” You try to regurgitate your friend’s rambles from months ago out of your head.

“Yeah, business department.” She sighs dreamily, as if the business department is the sexiest thing on campus. “This might be our only chance to shoot our shot.” You can’t help but grimace a bit.

“It can be your chance to shoot your shot. Leave me out of this.” You randomly grab an info card out of Lia’s hands, turning it around to see Mr. Huang Lijun’s photo staring back at you. You send Lia one last look, walking around her to go change in the dressing rooms.

“Aw, you’re no fun.” You hear her whine, her footsteps echo through the hallway as she comes up behind you. She almost knocks you into the wall from how forcefully she grabs onto your arm and swings it back and forth like you’re two little kids on your way to the playground.

“Maybe we can shoot our shot at the old men?” You and Lia stop walking, turning to face each other for a moment of silence. You blink at each other as if you’re both considering it, before erupting into laughter at the ridiculous thought and continue walking down the hallway.

You and Lia constantly joke around about finding rich sugar daddies at work to pay for your college tuition, but both of you know you’ll never actually commit to the idea fully. Neither of you will admit it, but you both know you don’t have the guts to do something like that.

By the time you, Lia, and your other coworkers change into uniform and gather your supplies for the Lee vs. Huang game, it’s already 10am. The air is crisp and cool, the signs of fall creep along your skin and taint the deep green trees in light oranges and yellows.

Despite the chill, you and your coworkers still wear skirts, long sleeve v-necks, and puffy vests; the only thing keeping your feet warm is a pair of short white socks and tennis shoes. You don’t mind the chill knowing that once the game starts you’ll be moving around enough to get warm. You stop thinking about your cold toes as soon as the door of the country club opens and the Lees and Huangs walk out.

The first time you lay eyes on Huang Renjun, you think your heart might stop.

You know it’s him because he walks close to his father as they make their way to where you’re standing by the golf carts. He has obviously dyed blonde color, his dark roots proof of that; it’s neatly gelled back in an effortless way with the light wind blowing a few of the locks gently as if an angel is personally moving them for him. His white jacket and black pants are slim and look like they cost more than all of your college textbooks this semester. He walks with his head high, his pretty, pink lips set in a straight line, and his almond eyes gentle.

Okay, so... maybe you understand the hype now.

“Good evening, ladies.” Mr. Lee announces, looking at you and your coworkers. You all politely introduce yourself and state who you’ll be caddying for.

Huang Lijun isn’t as tall as his son, but he looks to be more lively than Renjun, even at his age. He has a permanent smile on his lips and you can feel a friendly demeanor radiating from him when you approach.  

“Good Morning, sir. Let me take those off of your hands.” You politely grab the bag of clubs from him, feeling shy as his gaze doesn’t leave your face the entire time.

“You’re new here, right? I feel like I would remember you if I saw you before.” You’re surprised when he suddenly pinches your cheek, and he laughs at your shocked face. An unsettled feeling plants itself at the bottom of your stomach at the unwarranted touch.

“I’ve only been working here for a month, sir.”

“I think I’ll be coming around here more often, then.” He winks at you and turns to go sit in the front seat of the golf cart. You can’t help but let the feeling at the bottom of your stomach grow at how the older man looks at you. You definitely misjudged his “friendly” demeanor. Your eyes can’t help but glance at Renjun, who’s standing a few feet away from the whole interaction. He gives you a blank stare before turning and following his father.

In the past few weeks, you had gotten many lustful smiles and lewd gazes at your bare legs, but also many dollars in tips just in one morning by letting those smiles and gazes happen. The need to make ends meet justifies it all, and the cash you earn at the end of every shift only fuels this need.

The ride from the club’s main building to the first hole is short, so you quickly recompose yourself. You still have a job to do— a job you’re being paid lots of money for. You believe in your strong will to put up with whatever antics Mr. Huang pulls for the next few hours. Upon arrival at the first hole, you pull the bag of golf clubs out of the cart and follow in Mr. Huang’s quick footsteps, suddenly feeling sweaty from the exercise you’re getting by carrying these heavy clubs. When your group reaches the first hole, you set the bag down on the ground and press your hand over your face, but Mr. Huang’s voice startles you.

“Woah, there.” You jump and face him. “Those clubs cost more than my car, and unlike my car, they don’t deserve to be on the ground, darling.”

“Yes, sir. I apologize.” You smile shyly and pick up the clubs from the ground, your shoulders already straining to keep them up. ‘They weigh as much as a car,’ you huff.

This is going to be a long game.

“You kids can clean the carts today,” Mina suddenly throws a keychain at Lia’s face, she barely catches it before it hits her, “I have plans.”

“Me, too.” Kara quickly says, following after Mina as they both walk away. The game ended right at lunchtime (the Lees won) and now you and your coworkers are back at the club. It’s supposed to be everyone’s job to clean the golf carts after they’ve been used, but it looks like today it’ll just be you and Lia… Maybe.

“___, please. I’m going to be late to the cafe, my boss there is already mad at me.” Lia turns to you and begs with her hands clasped in front of her chest, eyes pleading and feet bouncing. You sigh; you’re hungry and your muscles are sore, and all you want to do is go home as quickly as you can. Still, you roll your eyes and take the golf cart keys from her, making her face crack open into a smile as she hugs you quickly.

“I’ll bring you coffee on Monday!” She screams at you as she practically runs away, leaving you with two golf carts to clean. You sluggishly begin, crawling into the cart the Huangs were sitting in when you find a small notebook laying on one of the seats. Picking it up to examine it, you find out it’s your university’s yearly planner, a book that everyone gets at the beginning of every academic year. Along the binder reads “Huang Renjun” and your eyes widen, immediately looking up to glance at the direction that Renjun walked off to a while ago.

Your legs move quickly through the corridors of the club, moving past changing rooms, saunas, and bathrooms, the planner tightly clutched in your hand. Your head is on a swivel and your lower lip is stuck between your teeth, until you hear a door open and slam shut behind you, making you turn your head to catch Renjun walking out of a changing room.

“Mr. Huang!” You call out.. Renjun freezes at the name, spinning on his heel to see you walking towards him.

“Sorry to disturb you, but you left your planner on the golf cart.” You hold it out for him, but he doesn’t take it.

“How do you know it’s a planner? Did you look through it?” You blink at him, stunned, and then glance down at the notebook. You’re surprised by the sudden questions and at the same time annoyed that Renjun accused you of snooping through his things so quickly. The image you had of him earlier, graceful, classy, and attractive, slips out of your mind as he stares down at you. However, this is the first time he’s directly talking to you, and you can’t help the spark that ignites in your belly from the roughness in his voice. It’s higher-pitched, but unpolished and jagged as he speaks with you.

“No. I go to the same University. I have the same one.” You explain. Renjun’s stare turns into shock.

“Really? Which department?”

“Fine Arts. I study Studio Art.” At first you think that you’re seeing things, but after blinking, you can guarantee that Renjun has jealousy painted on his face. It’s so sour that he looks away, trying to preoccupy his hands by fiddling with his bag. “So, are you going to take this, or…?”

“Yeah,” The bitterness drips from his tone, but you have a feeling it’s not directed at you, “Thank you for returning it.” He finally accepts it and turns to his bag, taking out his wallet. The cards inside look thick and heavy; memberships to places you’ll never step foot in and credit cards with limits you could never even imagine. Your pride tells you that you don’t need anything he could give you, so you silently turn around and walk away.

Renjun shuffles through some crisp 10’s and 20’s, but when he looks up to give you the tip, you’re already down the hallway and halfway out the door. You have golf carts to clean.

The next time you see Renjun is a week after the last game. The chilly weather remains, along with the useless uniform you have to wear, but this time around you’re not Mr. Huang’s caddie, you’re Renjun’s.

Kara walks next to you with Mr. Huang’s heavy golf clubs, her lips straight and head turned away from you to show her annoyance at how the caddie match up situation went this week. You’re sure to get an earful about this for at least the next few days, but you kind of like this revenge that fate dealt Kara. Either way, it’s not like there’s anything you can do about the match up. Renjun requested you to be his caddie this week, and you weren’t going to risk your bosses being angry with you by denying the request.

“Driver.” Renjun’s voice pulls you into the game. You pull out the correct golf club and put it into his awaiting hand, your fingertips brushing with his. “Aren’t you cold?” The words shock you, considering they’re the first words Renjun spoke to you today other than commands for golf clubs.

“I-I’m fine, Mr. Huang.” You respond promptly.

“Don’t call me that.” His tone is icy, and he quickly realizes how unnecessary it is to bite at you like that, “Just call me Renjun.” His father walks back from his shot, looking very smug. Renjun’s face is calm as he trades spots with his father and prepares for his first swing of the day, correcting his posture and loosening his limbs.

You remember the first time you saw him, how elegant and poised he looked. Your cold hands break into a sweat as your chest heats up from the quick beating of your heart. Renjun has only been icy and accusing towards you so far, yet you still feel warm while thinking about him. There has to be something wrong with you.

“Doesn’t my son look like he knows what he’s doing?” Mr. Huang asks from beside you, a small, unnerving smile on his lips.

“Yes, sir.” You reply back with your own, more innocent, smile.

“I taught him everything he knows about golf…. And women.” Mr. Huang leans into you, turning his chest to face you so that his breath is hitting your cheek. You can’t help but swallow to relieve your dry and cold throat, keeping your eyes forward as Renjun swings his club back and forth a bit in preparation.

“Yes, sir.” The only thought on your mind is to stop this man from stepping closer.

“Is that the only thing you can say?”

Renjun swings his arm back, breathing in as he keeps his eyes on the small white ball and his hopes in the green before him. Mr. Huang’s right hand is warm on your waist, but you would give anything to freeze right now.

A sharp crack ripples through the air as Renjun hits the golf ball and sends it flying into the golf course. His eyes are not where the ball lands, but instead on where his father touches you.

Renjun’s mom died when he was not even three days old.

He never got to meet her— to lay on her chest and hold her finger with his whole hand. He’ll never know what advice she would’ve given him when he got his first girlfriend, and he’ll never know how she would’ve reacted to him crashing his first car when he was 17. He only knows that his mom would’ve been there for him through all of that, unlike his father, who was not.

Renjun has had “mothers” through his life; three, to be exact. The first was when he was 5 years old, and she quickly asked for a divorce after Renjun’s dad went on a three month business trip and she didn’t hear from him the whole time. The second “mother” was a bit more mature than the first and with a lot more time on her hands. She wanted to shape 9 year old Renjun into a perfect student, which was something Renjun’s father appreciated, but still divorced her for “being too strong-headed.” Renjun only met his third mother twice when he was 13: once at the wedding and the second time at her funeral. He didn’t ask any questions, he wasn’t very interested in the first place.

These were the type of people Renjun spent his life around, but they really weren’t his mothers. The only similarity he had with those women was his father, and he treated them as poorly as he treated Renjun. That’s why when Renjun looks at you, cowering away from the very man who is his only link to family, he feels sick.

When is his dad going to stop being a fucking predator? How young does he want his next conquest to be? Will Renjun’s next mom be the same age as him? Something swirls in the pit of his stomach when he watches his father and it takes a moment for him to figure out what it is: jealousy. He’s not sure why he’s feeling jealous over someone he just met last week, but the feeling engulfs his whole chest and it burns him to his spot.

Renjun doesn’t even notice that he swung his golf club or that the golf ball went somewhere far into the green, probably an overshot. He only sees you, afraid of the man touching you but not stepping away. Why aren’t you stepping away?

“Nice job, Renjun.” His best friend, Jeno, claps a hand on his back as he steps up, hitting Renjun back into reality and forcing him to walk towards you. As Renjun approaches, his father slyly takes his hand away, and Renjun notices how you let out a relieved sigh. Giving you back his driver, Renjun strategically stands between you and his father, pretending to watch Jeno swing.

“Good job… Renjun.” You whisper, unsure about calling him by his first name so informally.

“Thank you.” Renjun sends a side glance to his father to see the displeased look on his face. “How was that, Dad?” Renjun hopes that maybe he can remind his father of why he’s here (to win against the Lees this week, not to feel up a girl 30 years younger than him) but in this moment, his father is acting like a 5 year old in the middle of a silent tantrum, not a 50 year old who runs the most successful construction company in the country.

“I’ve taught you better than that.” Renjun is sure they’re not talking about golf anymore, the authoritative tone in his father’s voice sends a lightning bolt of surprise and slight fear down Renjun’s back. He hates how he gets scared, he hates how his father can control him. The fury churns in the pit of his stomach as he accepts his father’s words with a bow of his head.

One day, Renjun swears he won’t submit anymore.

After the game ended with the Lees winning once again, you, Lia, and your other coworkers convene at the golf carts after the clients leave to change inside the club.

“You ladies know the drill.” Kara throws both sets of golf cart keys at you before walking off with Mina. You push Lia towards the entrance of the building before she even has a chance to turn around and open her mouth.

“You should get to the cafe before your boss throws another fit.” Lia turns back to face you, her jaw slightly slack and her eyes shining.

“You’re seriously the best. I love you.”

“Yeah, yeah, just give me a few extra shots in my coffee on Monday.” Lia laughs at that, grabbing your face between her two small, manicured hands and kissing you on each cheek before hopping off inside. You can’t help but be amused at her antics, turning to the golf carts in front of you to start cleaning.

“They make you clean the carts by yourself?” The voice startles you, not because you weren’t expecting it but because it’s Renjun’s. You turn your head over your shoulder, he’s standing just a few feet away still in his golfing gear from earlier.

“Uh, not usually, no. But my coworkers haven’t been happy with me lately.” You explain, fully turning to him and crossing your arms over your chest to tuck your cold hands into your sides.

“The ones who have been working here for a while?” You nod as an answer, and Renjun nods back in understanding, shoving his hands in his pants pockets. “They’ve been trying to get with me and my best friend for a while...” Renjun trails off when he sees your eyebrows raise at the comment, “... But that’s not what I came here to talk about.”

“Oh? What are you here for?” The conversation has gotten too informal for a worker and their client to be having, but you kind of like talking to Renjun in this casual setting.

“I realized that the past few times we’ve talked I’ve been such a dick.” He laughs lightly as he remembers, “I wanted to apologize for that. I wasn’t in a good mood last week and this morning, and I ended up pushing it on you.”

Renjun feels lots of emotions when it comes to you, despite only having this one proper conversation with you. He feels envy towards you for being able to study something that he desperately wants to. He feels guilt when he remembers how quickly he made you into a thief when you were only trying to return his belongings, and he feels so many other secondary and tertiary emotions in between. His head is full when he looks at you. He finally feels like he’s thinking about something, not just doing the same day to day motions in a constant cycle of ‘when will this end?’

“You’re apologizing?” You ask, stunned when he nods his head in confirmation. Sincere apologies are important to you. You believe there are not enough of them in this world anymore, and his gentle almond eyes are too wholehearted and warm for you in this cold weather. Your heart feels full looking at him, and you curse at yourself in your head for being swayed like this.

“I also have a question… You mentioned you’re majoring in Studio Art and I was wondering if, maybe, you could let me into one of the studios after a class this week? I’ve been needing a quiet place to work since my house has been busy lately.” One of the hands that was in Renjun’s pocket moves to matte down his sideburns while he glances at his shoes. “Was that too forward? Sorry, I just know that you can’t get into a studio without a passcode and you’re the only person I know who’s in Studio Art.” Renjun explains after you stare for a while, blinking at him.

“You’re an artist?” You finally ask, Renjun giving you a weak ‘yeah’ in response. A part of you wants to say no, that it’ll be weird to do something like this for him when you’ve only known him for less than 2 weeks and up until this point, you’ve only been in a worker-client relationship. However, you’re curious about what he’s like outside of this setting, especially what he’s like when his father has no possibility of appearing, since that seems to be the factor that turns his mood up or down.

“Sure. Come by studio 3 after 6pm on Wednesday and I’ll let you in, but... I heard Mr. Lee already scheduled a game for next weekend?” Renjun nods, “Then in return, you can win that game. It’s embarrassing always being on the losing team.” You smile playfully at the end to let him know you’re only joking.

“Deal.” Renjun sends a smile back of the same caliber, holding out a hand to shake with yours. If you thought you were affected by Renjun’s nice presence, his hand in yours sends you into another realm. His touch is warm from staying indoors and from keeping his hands in his pockets, and they contrast to your cold skin. He sucks in a breath through his teeth when your hands connect, turning your hand in his grip to look at your knuckles. “Are you sure you’re not cold? Your hands are freezing.”

“I’ll be okay. I just don’t have any good gloves to wear while working.” He huffs, small traces of white smoke leaves his mouth as he digs through his pockets.

“Wear these.” He replaces his hand in yours with a pair of his own gloves, “Your hands are precious, they shouldn’t be freezing.” Before Renjun can get embarrassed by his own words, he shoves his hands back into his pockets and turns on his heel, walking away, “I’ll see you on Wednesday!”

A knock on the studio doors shakes you away from staring at your painting, making you turn to look at who it is. Renjun peaks through the small window and waves when you make eye contact. You get up to open the door, almost forgetting that today is the day you agreed to let Renjun into your studio.

… Okay, that’s a lie. You definitely remembered that you’re supposed to meet Renjun, but you keep trying to convince yourself that you’re not excited about seeing him outside of that stuffy country club.

“Hey, sorry if I startled you.” Is the first thing he says when you open the door. He’s dressed in slacks, a dress shirt with a sweater over it, and a long coat over that. His nose and cheeks are slightly red from the rough wind outside and his supplies are clutched to his chest.

“Oh, you’re fine. I was just deep in thought.” Something about the studio makes both of you speak in hushed tones. No one else is here, but you feel the need to maintain the peace and quiet the room naturally holds. You and Renjun make your way to where you’re set up, he puts his things down on an easel to your left and takes off his coat, watching you from his peripheral vision.

Those uniforms they make you wear at work are just for show, Renjun knows that well, but that doesn’t stop him from appreciating you in the tight vest and little skirt. However right now, he likes your laid back look consisting of loose jeans and a layered shirt, he thinks it matches you.

“I was going to leave when you got here, but I think I’ll just finish this and head out.” You comment, aimlessly waving at your project.

“Please, stay as long as you need to. This is your studio, I don’t want to kick you out.” He laughs and licks his bottom lip. It’s breathtaking how innocent and nice his smile looks on his face. His eyes scrunch together to form laugh lines and his cheeks rise, he truly looks pretty when he smiles. You think this is the first time you’ve seen him like this.

You mumble back with a mixture of words that probably didn’t make sense and turn back to your work, leaving the room to continue with its peacefulness and quiet. However, Renjun’s presence next to you is too big to ignore. There are so many things you want to know about him and you have no excuse as to why you’re so curious.

“How about a game while we work?” You suggest.

“Sure… How about 20 questions?” It’s like he read your mind, so you smile and nod at his idea.

“You can go first.” You suggest.

“Okay, uh… Why do you work at a golf course if you’re majoring in Studio Art? Shouldn’t you be working at a, I don’t know, museum?” The question catches you off guard and Renjun notices how you stop painting, your brush and your hand floating in the air as you think, “Oh, sorry, is that too personal?”

“No, no… It’s just, normally, the first question people ask in a game of 20 questions is something like ‘what’s your favorite color’ or ‘what’s your sign’.” Renjun lets out a choked and embarrassed laugh, ducking his head down to look away from you. You can tell he’s about to change his question, so you quickly go back to painting and speak before he can.

“I did apply to work at several museums. I didn’t get any jobs, so I had to look elsewhere and Augusta was hiring. I know it’s not very fitting, but it makes good money and rich people know my name, even if it’s for just a few hours.” Renjun nods at your answer as if he could ever understand the idea of being poor, but the insight into your decision brings a fact to light that Renjun wasn’t 100% aware of before: you’re not like him, you need money.

“Don’t you hate the way people look at you there?” The words tumble out of Renjun’s lips faster than he can process the weight they carry. He turns to face you with guilt pooling in his eyes and his mouth opening and closing to find some words to correct the situation.

“No, I don’t like it.” You surprise him with your quick response, “But people like you don’t understand what it’s like to live paycheck to paycheck, to have to worry about how to pay the bills every month for years on end, always on your toes about money. I bet you think I’m cheap and—”

“No.” Renjun cuts you off promptly before you can continue, “Don’t make me into a jerk. I’m not like that. But the fact that that is the first thing you thought of worries me.” Your eyes widen at that, prompting him to elaborate. “Doesn’t that mean that’s how you think of yourself? Maybe not on the outside, but subconsciously. Sure, I won’t ever be able to understand how you live, but I wish you would not look at yourself as cheap and think of yourself as… beautiful.” Renjun lets the last words linger on his tongue, saying it quietly as if to not startle you.

You stare at him, your paintbrush resting in your hand and your back slouched as you watch him watch you. This is not the type of conversation you thought you’d be having with Renjun tonight, but you have to admit he makes a point. Eventually, you turn to your painting and stare at it some more, making Renjun turn and continue his own work.

“Ah, I asked two questions in a row.” He suddenly breaks the tense atmosphere, making you sigh as you remember you’re just playing a game, “You can ask two questions.”

He allows and relaxes when he sees you go back to painting.

“If you like to draw, why are you a business major?” Now it’s Renjun’s turn to freeze. Maybe if he did ask what your favorite color was he wouldn’t have had to endure this question from you, but he feels like he should answer it since it’s of equal weight to the one he asked you.

“It wasn’t my choice. I will most likely take my father’s place in his company and I need to at least know the basics before that happens.” You nod slowly. He looks so calm when he’s focused on drawing, but it’s not the same calm that you see on his face when he’s playing golf. You turn away before you get caught staring.

“Is that why your mood always changes when your dad is around?”

“Is it that obvious…” He trails off and you nod, “I can’t believe I’m about to say this out loud, but… It’s like everytime I’m around him, or at his office, or at home, my mind goes blank. I don’t feel like talking or thinking at all.” As he speaks, he sets down his utensils and turns to you, making continuous eye contact as he explains. You find yourself feeling comfortable at how easily he’s talking to you about such a deep subject.

“It sounds like… you’re angry.” You turned to face him now too, your paintbrush settled onto your canvas and your full attention on him, “My dad is like that. He gets so angry sometimes that he’s calm. No yelling or fighting, just silence. That’s how I know I messed up when he gets like that.” You nod, remembering all the times he’s been calmly mad at you.

“I don’t know… It’s confusing to me.” He straightens his back and stares at your foot as it moves around aimlessly. “What do I do?” He asks into the air, as if his pencil would suddenly start talking to him like a therapist.

“Just do what makes you happy.” Renjun’s glance over at you makes a smile pull at your lips, “I know it’s easier said than done. But you already know what it is that’ll make you happy, and that’s half of the battle. Why bottle it up?”

Renjun doesn’t know how he’ll ever get the courage to tell his father these things, but the way you’re looking at him as if he can do anything, he starts to feel tingles of confidence trickle into him.

“Oh, and why did you pick me to be your caddie this past weekend?”

“Well…” Renjun plays with his pencil. What is he supposed to say? He doesn’t want you to carry around his father’s heavy golf clubs? He doesn’t like the way his father touches you and gets jealous over it for some unknown reason? Yeah, he’s not going to say.

“Just because… I wanted you next to me.” The way he says it makes it sound so simple and true, but your heart drops to your stomach and springs back up going at 100 miles per hour. You can barely stop your hand from shaking as you pick up your brush, and it’s almost like you can’t see in front of you from the thrill of his words.

“Hey,” Renjun suddenly drops his pencil and turns to you, looking a bit confused and slightly upset, “Didn’t you ask three questions?”

“We’re letting the Lees win again today.” Renjun is in the middle of pulling up the zipper of his jacket when his father drops the news. Renjun’s footsteps stutter slightly at his father’s words and he stops walking next to the older man.

“Again?” He asks as he already thinks up an apology to tell you later when he loses.

“Yes, I need Mr. Lee to be happy when I bring up the new contract to him later in the sauna.” Renjun sighs and continues to walk next to his father. It’s the next weekend, and the third Lee vs. Huang game is starting in just a few minutes.

Renjun won’t lie, purposefully losing to his best friend and his dad every week is not the greatest stroke to Renjun’s ego, especially since Jeno won’t let it down around his other friends.

“Oh, I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Lijun swivels on his heel to look at his son, “Have you been requesting for ___ to be your caddie?”

The questions stuns Renjun, making it hard to answer so his father takes it as a yes.

“Well stop it. Dad wants to have some fun.” He claps a hand on Renjun’s back and  smiles. In the past, Renjun would’ve just rolled his eyes and let his father do whatever he wants, but this time his blood boils. He feels true anger when his father struts away with the intentions of doing whatever he wants to someone Renjun cares about. He can barely move his feet after the old man, his mind cloudy as everyone makes it to the golf carts.

“Let’s have a good game today, Mr. Huang, don’t make it too easy to beat you.” Mr. Lee jokes around and the two old men laugh as they settle into their own golf carts. Renjun walks up to his cart and you wave to him, the white gloves he gave you last week snugly on your hands. Renjun thinks his anger is what spurs him into doing what he does next.

He steps close to you, leaning into your ear and wrapping his hand around your covered ones with his thumb rubbing on your exposed wrist, “Keep these on for me, babe. I don’t want you to be cold.”

The amount of jaws that drops after Renjun’s words makes him bite down his smirk and slide into the front seat of the golf cart, pretending to not see the daggers his father is  throwing at him with his eyes.

Your heart beats so quickly and loudly you’re sure Kara can hear it next to you if she wasn’t busy huffing about what Renjun just did. Sitting in the back seat of the golf cart, you watch the back of Renjun’s head on the way to the first hole. What got into Renjun? Why did he all of a sudden call you ‘babe’ and get so close? Not that you’re opposed to it, you’re just shocked.

The game begins once you reach the first hole, and the Huang’s put up a good fight throughout the entire game, keeping the Lees on their toes and the score sheet even. Everytime Renjun comes back from a shot, you smile at him and tell him good job, which earns you a pat on the back from him that warms you up from the inside out.

Renjun can tell his father is getting more and more annoyed with him; how Renjun is keeping you as far from his father as he possibly can, the gentle touches on your waist that you welcome wholeheartedly compared to the ones Mr. Huang would lay on you before. He likes how angry his father gets, especially knowing that he can’t do anything about it right now. Not to mention, you seem to be enjoying Renjun’s attention, which just adds to his confidence.

Now, your group arrives at the last hole of the game. The Lees step up and swing, setting their total score to 357. All Renjun and his father have to do is move the ball around a bit more to get their score to be higher and the Lees will win the game. Mr. Huang is up first, acting clumsy so that the ball doesn’t make it into the hole and brings the game to Renjun.

As he sets up his posture, his hands suddenly go stiff. This shot is so easy to make, he has made this exact hole several times. He breathes in and out deeply, deciding on if he should throw the game like his father said he should, or give his one last ‘fuck you’ to his Dad.

He glances at you and makes eye contact; you nod your head and smile a bit as if to say ‘go ahead, we all know you can do this.’ Renjun then grips his golf club and swings it back to effortlessly hit the golf ball, rolling it along the green and perfectly into the hole.

You and the other caddies clap for the perfectly executed shot and Jeno and his father come up to Renjun to shake hands. They don’t look upset, instead they look pretty happy for Renjun. However, Renjun’s father is deathly silent, not even congratulating Renjun on his win. Renjun wasn’t expecting a whole ceremony for him, but it does feel nice to put his father down a peg or two today, and that’s the thought that fills Renjun’s head as everyone rides back to the country club.

While getting out of the golf cart, Renjun attempts to turn back to you but is promptly pulled away by the back of his jacket by his father. Renjun yelps and pulls away, but that doesn’t stop Lijun from grabbing onto his son’s arm instead and pulling him inside.

“What was that? I specifically told you to lose the game and you did the exact opposite. How am I supposed to talk to Mr. Lee now?” Renjun’s father fumes, his low voice belting out into the corridor and making some of the passing staff turn their heads.

“That’s not my problem.” Renjun shrugs and his father stops shaking, stepping closer to his son.

“Excuse me?” He asks with menace dripping from his tongue.

“I said, that’s not my problem.” Renjun is fired up. He doesn’t see a way out of this now, no way his behavior is being excused, so might as well go all in.

“You did it for that caddie, ___, right?” His father squints his eyes and turns his head slightly. When Renjun doesn’t answer, Lijun laughs in his face, “It looks like I’m right.”

“What?” Renjun asks dumbly.

“It’s okay. You’re just a boy and you can make some mistakes over a girl, we’ve all been there once or twice.” Lijun fixes Renjun’s jacket and pats his shoulder, his angry disposition turning passive. “Besides, you can’t do much for that girl anyway. Is a ball in a hole really all she deserves?”

“I won the game because I could. I won it because that’s what I wanted.” Renjun states, his blood beginning to boil once again when his father says he doesn’t deserve you. What is he thinking? Does he actually think he has a chance with you? He can keep dreaming.

“We can’t always do whatever we want. There are consequences we have to face for doing whatever we want. Are you ready to face the consequences?” At the question, Renjun is reminded about the words you told him Wednesday night.

‘Just do what makes you happy,’ Those simple words are so hard to turn into reality. Renjun wants to be happy so bad. He wants to be away from this man and he wants to be closer to you. The consequences? Sure, he’ll deal with it all if it means he can stop living in the personal hell his father set up for him. Renjun pushes his father away a bit and steps out of the trap his father pushed him into, making Lijun’s eyes widen.

“Yeah, I’m ready.” Renjun says and turns around, walking back towards the exit of the building.

“Hey, where are you going?” His father shouts after him.

“To do the thing that I want to do the most.” He yells back and walks around the corner, out of sight from his father. Renjun practically runs through the hallways to get back outside and run to you, but you surprise him by greeting him by the saunas. He stops in his steps and you smile as you walk up to him.

“Hey, I just wanted to tell you that you did really well today. I know I said I wanted you to win last week, but I didn’t think you’d actually do it.” You laugh.

“Thanks.” Renjun simply says, afraid of what else could come out if he keeps talking.

“Oh, I also want to give you these back.” You dig out Renjun’s gloves from your pocket, holding them out. This is it. This is the moment Renjun will start to do whatever makes him happy, whatever he wants.

And what he wants right now is you.

He quickly takes the gloves and then tightly grips the wrist of your outstretched hand, leading you down the hallway and around some corner. He hears you exclaim a small ‘woah’ but you let him guide you into a sauna, the door closing tightly behind both of you.

There’s no one else in the room, just the stuffy steam that floats in the small space between you two. Renjun has a tight grip on the gloves you gave back to him and his other hand runs through his hair and messes up the perfect form it held.

“Tell me to stop.” He demands, looking straight into your eyes.

“What?”

“Tell me to stop right now.” He takes a step forward, his eyes full to the brim with lust and his hands shaking with how much he’s holding himself together. You’ve barely been in the room for a minute, but your clothes are already sticking to you from the intense heat.

“I don’t understand,” You reply back as he keeps moving toward you. You take small steps back in return, “I don’t know what I’m stopping you from.” Half of you is playing dumb right now; you know what Renjun wants from you just by the look in his eyes. The other half just wants to hear him say it himself

“I’ll fuck you the way you deserve. Right here, right now.” Renjun’s voice is too angelic to say such nasty words, but he growls them out like he’s a tainted angel. You’re pressed against the wooden wall of the sauna now, Renjun just a step away. You lean into him slightly and rip the gloves out of his hand to throw them to the side.

“Do it.”

It’s all the permission Renjun needs to feverishly connect his lips to yours.

The action is so sudden, you don’t remember how Renjun got close to you so quickly. Despite his forcefulness before, his lips melt into you like chocolate melting over a fire, so hot and delicious that you just want more. His hands hold the sides of your face, pushing back your hair and his body pushing you back into the wall.

He sucks on your bottom lip, softly biting afterwards and making you let out a whimper, and then a moan when his thigh pushes between your legs and further presses you against the wall. Amidst the kissing, you find the zipper of his expensive jacket, unzip it, and pull the piece of clothing off. Afterwards, you pull his shirt off and break the kiss while you’re at it.

“I’ve been thinking about you in this skirt since….” Renjun hums at the thought, his hand sliding up your bare thighs and under your skirt, then he grips your ass and brings your core down onto his thigh, the friction enough to have you letting out a strangled moan.

“Since the day I first saw you.” He finally whispers and connects your lips once again. His hand on your ass doesn’t move, his other hand is placed on your waist as he helps you ride the rough material of his pants. Renjun can only watch your reactions; the way your head lolls back into the wall and your eyes screw shut, holding onto Renjun’s shoulders tight enough he’s sure there will be marks afterwards.

“Fuck— Renjun, don’t stop, please.” He’s mesmerized, absolutely addicted to how you look and sound right now, and it’s all because of him. The thought spurs him along, he removes your jacket and you blindly help him in removing your top and bra. You must look like a mess right now, especially since you’re coming close to your climax just by Renjun’s touch and his thigh. Not to mention the sweat dripping down both of you, a glistening sheen coating your skin that makes Renjun let out a low growl before he leans down and takes one of your nipples in his mouth.

He sucks and swirls his tongue, and you can’t help but moan his name again, digging your fingers into his blonde hair and tugging. Renjun moves from your chest downward, not letting an inch of your stomach and hips go past him without a kiss and a nibble, leaving you breathing heavily. He makes his way down to his knees and folds your skirt up, glancing at  you from his position.

“You don’t wear anything under here except your panties?” You nod, your head stuttering as Renjun applies pressure with his thumb over your slick hole, a wet spot already there to greet him.

“You’re so fucking dirty, baby.” He groans and leans in to swipe his tongue over your center making you shake as a response. He slides your underwear down and throws it somewhere to the side, catching the sigh of your arousal dripping down your thigh. His intense stare makes you shake him, embarrassment crawling over you at how he’s not reacting.

“Are you shy?” You whine, not really answering his question. “You don’t need to be. You’re beautiful.” The softness from his voice contradicts his more dominating tone from before, but you don’t have time to think about it before he dives in. You sigh in content when the pressure in between your hips caused by Renjun turns into pure pleasure. His tongue laps at your essence and his lips suck on your clit, you can tell he’s trying to find what exactly will make you tick.

When Renjun slides a finger into your hole unexpectedly, you jump and whimper a bit but the feeling of him sliding in and out along with his tongue circling and sucking on your clit makes a knot form in the pit of your stomach, tightening up your muscles and making your eyes roll back.

“Right there. Oh my god, right there…” You keep repeating, praying that Renjun treats you good and let’s you come. He adds another finger and you gasp, starting to move your hips in rhythm to his hand, holding onto his shoulders for more stability. He glances up at you, watching your eyes screw shut and your tits bounce as you use his hand to get yourself off. Renjun hums against you, and you can almost feel the ecstasy of coming undone, until Renjun pulls away. You groan, feeling like crying when your orgasm fades.

“Hey..” You whine, pouting when Renjun stands back up and licks your juices off of his lips. He has some on his chin and you bring your hand up to wipe it away, Renjun stopping your hand and kissing the wetness away, then kissing up your arm and to your shoulder, up your neck and to your ear. He tugs at your earlobe, licking the skin under it and biting some more, his hands sliding up your waist at playing with your nipples, pinching a little to get whimpers out of you and making your hips buck up, ready to continue where Renjun left you at.

That’s when you feel the hardness in his pants; it must be painful. That’s why you understand his next words, whispered into the shell of your ear between kisses: “You’re not coming until I’m in you, got it?”

You nod quickly, attaching your hands to Renjun’s zipper and button, undoing them and sliding down his pants.

“But, you’re gonna need to do something for me…” He says, helping you pull down his boxers, watching his angry, red length swing out. You gasp, feeling a bit bad that you just left Renjun like this to eat you out, but you’re sure you can make up to him now.

“What is it? I’ll do it.” Your hands run over Renjun’s sweaty shoulders, moving away some longer hair in the back of his head that’s sticking against his neck.

“You’re gonna have to yell my name. I need you to let everyone know who’s doing this to you— who’s making you feel good, okay?” Your breath gets caught in your throat as the words tumble out of his lips. He tilts his voice higher at the end of every phrase to make him sound innocent, but you’re not fooled.

“There’s people outside…” You mumble back, sending a glance at the door. You know there are several staff and customers walking along the hallways outside. What will they think if they hear you screaming Renjun’s name? Not to talk about what will happen to your job.

Those thoughts melt away when Renjun’s dick slides between your folds slowly, making you turn your gaze back to him and hold on tight as he lubricates himself over your wetness, holding onto your hips so that you don’t move and take anymore than what he’s giving you.

“That’s exactly why I want you to scream. Can you do that for me?” He asks and you nod frantically, doing almost anything to get his dick inside you. You’re not sure what’s going to happen once you step out of this room, but at least you know Renjun is going to give you the best fuck you’ve had in a while, and you know it’ll be worth it for what’s to come after all this.

“Finally…” You moan when Renjun’s length disappears into you inch by inch, going slow as to not hurt you. He sucks in a breath through his teeth as he bottoms out, picking up your thigh to hang it over his hip and wrapping his other arm around your waist to keep you close. You hold onto him, adjusting as he kisses your lips sweetly and carefully, and waits to move his throbbing cock through your velvety walls.

“Go, Renjun, move….” You whisper, and he looks at you confused.

“What was that? I didn’t hear you.” He asks, cocking his head.

“Please, move.” You say louder, but he shakes his head and purses his lips as if he still can’t understand.

“I said, fuck me, Renjun. Please, can you fuck me already?” You all but scream out, your voice almost cracking at how whiny you sound. No doubt, if someone passed by outside they would’ve heard you. The thought makes you tense up, but it feels so good to be able to yell out what you want.

“Your wish, baby.” Renjun mutters before he starts rocking into you. You both groan at the sensation, Renjun’s hips speeding up as he gains more momentum. His lips don’t leave yours, kissing you into oblivion while his dick stuffs you. He has you against the wall, his hips powering away and you don’t dare to disturb him, realizing he’s burning all of his anger away as well.

“Yes, Renjun, fuck me just like that…'' You moan loudly to spur him on, now not really caring about who’s outside or who hears you, just wanting Renjun to know you love how rough he’s going. He presses you higher up the wall and pulls your legs apart more, hitting a new angle that literally makes you scream out, tears mixing with the sweat on your face as he relentlessly pumps into you.

There are so many things going on at the same time. Your hard nipples and soft breasts rubbing against Renjun’s chest, making goosebumps rise on his arms. Your hot and sweaty bodies are basically sliding against each other. The clapping of his hips against yours no doubt attracts attention from outside along with your screams and Renjun’s grunts continuously get louder as you both get closer to the climax.

“I’m gonna come… Renjun, come in me…” You’re already fucked out, the words barely leaving your lips coherently, but Renjun understands and moves his finger down to find your clit, circling his thumb fast and steady, just like everything else he’s doing.

“C’mon come on my cock, babe. Let it out, I wanna hear it.” And just like that, you unwind and scream his name as your orgasm washes over and takes control, making you claw onto any part of Renjun that you can reach. Renjun feels your walls deliciously convulse around him and with a few more sloppy thrusts, he comes into you and fills you up, staying wrapped up in you as you both calm down.

Renjun presses small kisses wherever he feels like as your breathing settles down, his softness and the caring way he rubs at your sides and hips where he was holding so hard that you’re sure to have bruises makes you smile hazily.

“___… I don’t regret any of this.” He whispers into your skin, leaning back to look at you properly. “Do you?”

“No.” You answer truthfully, making his eyes shine and you both smile dumbly, your sticking bodies relaxing. The happy moment doesn’t last long before there’s a knock on the door to the sauna. You and Renjun stiffen up as you glance at the door, waiting for whoever it is to announce themselves.

“Renjun? Son?” Your heart drops to your stomach and you cover your mouth at the voice of Renjun’s father on the other side of the door, but when you turn to Renjun, he doesn’t seem bothered. He sends a smile at you and moves some hair from your face before answering.

“Occupied, go somewhere else. We’re busy.”

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Give her the life I never had; Harry Potter x child reader

*Author’s note*

So this came from my Wattpad requests and this is my first Harry potter (character not fandom) fic that I have written so I hope I didn’t mess this up for any hardcore Potterheads out there.  So this takes place during the Battle at Hogwarts so expect some death and violence involved, other than that not really much anything really. I know it’s been awhile since my last update but I hope to pick up the pace and post up some more stuff and then HOPEFULLY open up requests here since I know you all have been waiting patiently for that.

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things​

@waddles03​

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​

@ixchel-9275​

@psychosupernatural​

@queen-paladin​

_____________________________________________________________

It was finally over. All of it.  Voldemort was now dead, the Death eaters defeated, and now the Elder wand was destroyed and lost to the sea.  I looked towards the ruins of Hogwarts knowing that the stone and walls can be rebuilt, some of our friends would be able to heal their physical wounds, however some mental wounds won’t.

The Weasleys they’ll always have to live with Fred’s death for the rest of their life and grieve over the fact he’ll never come back, especially George.  I had seen just how close their brotherly bond was, even when they had nothing they had each other, now George was gonna have to make do on his own, if he could.

And Hermione, while she doesn’t want us to know I had a feeling at what she had done to protect her muggle parents, thankfully with her and Ron seeming to repair their growing relationship, I know the Weasley’s will welcomingly be the family she needs now more than ever.

As I walked along the school grounds that’s when I came across (Y/n) getting looked over by one of the healers.  When she looked towards me, she gently smiled and I smiled softly back at her thinking back on how I found her in all this chaos.

The battle was pure hell.  Spells and curses being blasted, bodies dropping like flies, and rubble from the school walls crumbling down as repercussions from the spells firing out.

I had pushed back a Death Eater with an Stupefy spell which sent him flying all the way across the Great Hall.  Another death eater soon came right at me but I quickly disposed of his wand first before giving him the paralyzing spell.

That’s when I heard it.  The sound of a young girl crying.  I quickly ran around the corridor and saw just down the stairs where I once found the Mirror of Erised, a young girl around maybe her 1-2nd year hovering over an older girl who looked almost like her but had longer hair.  The young girl with shorter hair was weeping hysterically as she kept crying.

“Liz? Lizzie. Get up sis. Oh please get up.” From the pale skin and the soulless eyes that Lizzie had, I knew immediately she had been hit with the Killing curse. Cautiously I walked over to her and said.

“Are you alright?” the young girl looked up at me and she sniffled.

“Yes. But my sister she—she won’t wake up yet her eyes are open.” Knowing how I hadn’t learned of the 3 unforgiving curses until my 4th year at Hogwarts, she must’ve not known what exactly happened to her sister.

“What’s your name?”

“(Y/n). (Y/n) (l/n).”

“Well (Y/n), I…….I’m afraid to tell you this but……..your sister’s—she’s dead.”

“What? No but….if she were dead her eyes would be shut, the spell that hit her just made her collapse. Like the paralysis spell.”

“But it wasn’t a blue light that hit her, was it?” she looked back down at her sister and touched her cheek.  “I’m afraid it was the most dangerous of all unforgiving curses. The Killing Curse.” She sniffled and hugged her sister’s corpse and choked out.

“But—she was…..she’s all I have left!” I looked around and two more Death eaters spotted us.

“Get behind me.” I urged (Y/n).  Without question she got behind me and I held out my wand and as they charged toward us I called out, “Stupefy!” which sent one Death eater flying backwards but then I felt a shock to my hand which sent my wand flying towards the second Death eater’s hand.  She sneered at me but then a voice exclaimed.

“Petrificus Totalus!” the female Death eater soon went stiff and fell to the ground.  I turned and saw that it was (Y/n) who had casted the curse.  I ran over and took my wand back from the witch and told her.

“Come on. We can’t stay here.” She took one last look at her sister.  I knew she was hesitant to leave her but if she remained here, she’d be a sitting duck.  “Your sister would want you safe (Y/n).” she turned to me and nodded before taking my hand and we raced out of the hallway.

Together the two of us worked together to fend off the oncoming Death Eaters, but one Death eater used an Inferno spell which burnt (Y/n)’s arm pretty bad.  I shielded her from the next oncoming Inferno attack but the heat of the flames was almost too strong for me to hold back.  That’s when a wave of water came and extinguished the flames and the Death Eater was flown backwards till his back hit a column and he collapsed dead.

We turned and there stood Professor McGonagall.

“Professor.”

“Harry, Ms. (L/n) are you both alright?”

“I am, (Y/n) however got burnt on her arm.” She walked up to us and she examined (Y/n)’s arm. She let out a painful hiss and the Professor said.

“I’ll take care of her from here Potter.”

“Thank you Professor.” Just as I was about to leave, I felt a hand grab the sleeve of my shirt and I saw that it was (Y/n).

“Thank you, Harry Potter.” I smiled down at her and nodded to her.  She released my sleeve and I ran off to finally end this once and for all.

I walked over to her just as the healer cleared her off and moved onto the next student that needed medical treatment.  I sat down beside her and asked her.

“How are you doing (Y/n)?”

“Shaky but—alive.” She softly scoffed.  “But at what cost? My sister’s dead. She was the only family I had left. Now the ministry will probably put me in the Magic for Orphans facility, and with me almost being a teenager, no one will want me.”

I was probably the only one who knew what she must be going through.  Even though we were orphaned in different circumstances, we still lost our loved ones to Voldemort.  Now I must be crazy because I had no clear idea of what to do next but what I did know was that I couldn’t leave (Y/n) alone anymore.

“What if—” I started off by saying.  “What if you…had someone to look after you?”

“But, but Harry I—I have no other living relatives. It’s always just been me and my sister since our parents died three years ago at the Quidditch world cup.”

“I know, but what if there was someone who wanted to help you out. Give you a home so that you wouldn’t have to suffer any potential abuse or neglect.”

“And just who would that person be?” I sighed softly before telling her.

“You’re looking at him.” Her eyes softly widened before she let out a soft gasp.

“But-but why? I mean no offense Harry but…..why would you want to help me out?”

“Let’s just say, from one orphan to another I know how lonely it can be. I had no clue about the magic world till I was just your age, and though I may not know how the Ministry of Magic deals with orphaned wizards, I do know a thing or two about living in terrible conditions. I lived practically my whole childhood in a tiny hall closet in my aunt and uncle’s place. And I wouldn’t want you to potentially go through that type of abuse in a stranger’s home.”

(Y/n) was silent for a moment, taking in what I just said.  Weighing out her options before thinking about what answer she would give me.

“If not I’ll understand, I’ll check in whenever I can. But just know you won’t go through the rest of your life alone.” She looked up at me.  Her eyes that were once filled with tears, but now filled with courage and strength as she said.

“If it won’t be too much trouble with you, I’ll go with you.” I softly smiled at her and told her taking notice of her robes.

“Spoken like a true Gryffindor.”

After that, the Weasley family, Hermione, myself and (Y/n) returned to the Weasley’s old home the Burrow and decided to rebuild it, a symbol as a fresh start to all our lives after this whole war.

We also had a memorial service for both Fred and (Y/n)’s older sister, each of us speaking for both Fred and (Y/n)’s sister before finally burying them and summoning a beautiful garden around them of their favorite flowers and plants.

As the sun was starting to set I saw (Y/n) still standing over her sister’s grave.  I walked out to her and said.

“Mrs. Weasley’s prepared supper for all of us. She says you best come in before it’s all gone.” (Y/n) remained silent.  I softly sighed and without another word I just stood there beside her.  She may not want to talk, but she should at least know that someone was there when she was ready.

“I—never thought I’d have to face this world without her. Even through our fights, especially after mom and dad died, she was always there for me. She especially liked to tease me about my crush on Joey Matarazzo, saying we’d get married one day and have kids of our own. Now she won’t ever see me grow up, or achieve any dreams I’ll have for the future.”

“Let me tell you something my Godfather once told me. He told me that the ones that love us never really leave us. And we can always find them, in here.” I pointed to her heart.

She looked up at me and finally for the first time I saw a true, genuine smile.  She came closer to me and wrapped an arm around my waist and rested her head against my ribs.  I wrapped an arm around her and we stood there for a few more minutes before walking back inside the Burrow to join the Weasley’s for dinner.

*FF 19 years later.*

It was like any other year, but this time it was my second son’s first time doing this.  I could already see from the look on his face that he looked anxious about his first year going as we came up to platform 9¾.

“Together.” I assured him as we took hold of his cart and we both ran straight through the brick wall and found ourselves right by the Hogwarts Express.  As we walked closer to the train, we soon found Ron and Hermione with their kids, I spotted Draco and his wife and son bidding their goodbyes.  He and I looked at each other, neither of us speaking a word but he gave me a point nod, and I nodded back to him.

“I was beginning to think I’d have to write my own brothers up for detention already.” A female voice soon spoke up and coming right towards us was (Y/n), all grown up and in her Professor robes.

Since the battle she continued on her Hogwarts education and excelled in both Magical creature knowledge and potions making.  By the time she was in her 4th year at Hogwarts, Ginny and I had agreed to legally adopt her as our own child and she was beyond thrilled at the news.  After graduating, she worked with me at the Ministry of Magic to focus on potion brewery before enrolling to be the next Potions Professor and this would be her second year teaching that class.

I’m told she’s kind but firm when it comes to students goofing off in that class, but she is always there to make sure no student messes up a potion and causes injuries either to themselves or others.

“Not in the slight.” I assured her.

“Good. I would hate to have to write them up to Headmaster McGonagall.” She told me.  She looked down at her brothers and asked them, “So boys, you ready?”

“Oh yeah!” exclaimed James while Albus was more reserved and didn’t really say anything. Instead he walked away and sat down with his arms hugging his legs close to him.  (Y/n) and I looked at each other and I told her to get James onto the train as well as herself while I talked to James.  She nodded and guided James as well as his things over to the train while I walked over to Albus and knelt down beside him.

“Dad,” he spoke. “What if I am put in Slytherin?”

“Albus Severus Potter. You were named after two Headmasters of Hogwarts. And one of them was a Slytherin. And he was the bravest man I had ever known. But if it means to you, you can choose Gryffindor. The sorting hat does take that into consideration.”

“Really?” I nodded. “But how would you feel? If I was sorted into Slytherin?”

“Then Slytherin will have gained the best wizard they could ask for.” He smiled and embraced me and I hugged him back.  “Now come on, off you go.” We then walked towards the train and Albus got himself situated inside with his brother and Ron and Hermione’s kids, and riding alongside them to keep an eye on them to Hogwarts was (Y/n).

As I stood by my friends and we watched the train leave the station, waving goodbye to our kids I couldn’t help but feel like we had done it.  The war ended almost 2 decades ago and now our children can learn magic in a better world, a world without Death Eaters, a world without darkness and death, a world without a Dark Lord.

A peaceful time in our world.

[bunnyhugs77]

you said that there was a scene that you had cut out from Platinum Panther don't be shy and post it bestie 🥰 btw loved the fic <3 😆

This scene was super irrelevant so I just cut it but here it is😭❤️

Drabble For: Platinum Panther

Pairing: Dilf! Jungkook x Spoiled Reader 

Word Count: 1.6k

 -----$-----

"Basket or stroller?" Jungkook lists your limited options once the two of you enter the local grocery store through its sliding doors.

"Neither." You create your own answer to avoid any unnecessary tasks. "Neither wasn't an option. You agreed to run errands with me, so you have to help. Now, you can either hold the basket or push the stroller." Jungkook held up the empty errand basket towards you as if he already knew what you would pick.

With a sigh, you took the basket from his grasp into your own as you both began to make your way towards the fruits and vegetables section. You had never actually gone grocery shopping before. Well, you've waited in the car while other people have done it for you if that counts.

"I don't see why you couldn't just get a cart like everyone else?" You were already complaining about the practically weightless object that you held in your right hand while Jungkook worked on bagging a few fruits.

"Because you're here, and you can help carry the basket instead of me managing a cart and a stroller at the same time." He had good reasoning, but he was strong, you were sure he could do it on his own if he wanted to.

"Here," You watched with misery as Jungkook placed bagged apples and bananas into your basket; the change in weight being subtle, no more than two pounds but it felt like a million bricks to you. "It's getting heavy~" You whined as Jungkook simply ignored your protests knowing you were exaggerating.

"Oh, yes, I'm sure it weighs six metric tonnes. You can help pick out things too you know?" Your ears perked at the mention that you could pick out items, but you had to remind yourself this was a grocery store, not Dolce and Gabbana.

With your high heels softly clicking against the floor, you stepped towards the berries shelf. "How about these?" You quietly yell across the display of fruits that sat between you and Jungkook.

"Yeah, any of those are fine just no strawberries; Mira's allergic." This was news to you. "Babies have allergies?" Sometimes you didn't think before you spoke, this was a good example of one of those times.

"Yes, babies have allergies, Y/n." He couldn't control the small fit of laughter that broke through his words. You couldn't lie and say you didn't feel the slightest bit embarrassed at his reaction. You knew little-to-nothing about babies, this was a known fact, but sometimes you wished you knew a little more.

Soon, the two of you made your way over to the next aisle while you watched Jungkook check his list of items to purchase while you were busy fearing for the well-being of your arm. Sure, the basket was barely half-full and you could probably carry twice your body weight in shopping bags but not produce. You were sure your arm would fall off within minutes.

"W-what are you doing?" You flinched as Jungkook gently took the basket from your hands while he encouraged you to take control of the stroller. You didn't even know he had finished using his phone.

"I'll hold the basket, you can push Mira--" Instantly, you reached back for the basket in denial, "No, no it's fine. I can manage," Your odd behaviour was nothing new to him, he knew why you were insistent on holding the basket.

"Y/n, Mira will not bite you. She's a baby." Anyone listening would think this was an amusing conversation but Jungkook actually had to try and remind you. "I know that, I just don't want her to scream when she sees me approaching her since she basically hates me."

"Don't say that, she laughs at your funny faces sometimes."

"Sometimes." You emphasize his last word before you give up trying to retrieve the basket from him. With a deep breath and a quick fix of your outfit, you put on your friendliest face as you face the stroller and take a few steps towards the baby who was already eyeing you curiously.

There was that familiar frown, the one that notified you that tears were on their way with some loud cries to follow suit.

You quickened your pace to pass her and turn behind the stroller, taking hold of the handle. "Not even 5 seconds of me facing her and she was about to cry." You complain before you curiously observed the way Jungkook walked directly in front of the stroller, only to squat in front of the baby who was smiling at the sight of her father.

"You don't hate Y/n, right?" Jungkook's pitch had gone up a bit as he initiated a conversation with the 11-month old. All you heard were some incomprehensible murmurs but Jungkook seemed to understand exactly what she was saying.

"Well, daddy really likes her so you'll give her a chance right? I know she's not the best at first impressions; The first time I met her she let the elevator doors close on me." Your hand raised to clasp over your mouth as Jungkook recalled the first time you had met. You thought he would’ve forgotten about that by now.

In your defense you were having a bad day that day.

"But once you get to know her, you'll really like her, just like I do." His words were sweet and genuine, the perfect recipe to make your heart flutter and stomach churn at his kind statement. With a few more babbles on Mira's behalf Jungkook finally stood back up facing you.

"Give it some time. You'll grow on her." He seemed confident in his words. "Yeah? How can you be so sure?" He raised a finger to his lips, "A father never reveals his secret." Your brow raised in confusion at the incorrect saying, "Don't you mean-"

"Nope. I said what I said." He dismissed your conversation as he led the way into the next aisle which was a bit busier than the previous one. You carefully navigated the stroller behind him taking all extra precautions to avoid bumping into anything. 

You watched as Jungkook reached up for the snacks on the upper shelf, the cuff of his sleeve rolling down ever so slightly to expose the ink that trailed up his arms. You made sure that you and the stroller were parallel to the shelves, assuring that you left the most room available for any passing shoppers. 

However, that didn’t seem to stop one person from full-on rolling their cart into the back of your leg causing you and the stroller to jerk forward. With a pained expression and a sting at the back of your ankles, you turned to face the source of your pain. Inwardly cringing at the sight of yet another middle-aged woman. 

Why did they seem to be drawn to you when it came to starting problems?

“Can’t you see me standing here? There was plenty of space to go around.” You seethed, trying to channel any source of fake kindness but work seemed to have drained it from you.

“It was an accident, but it serves you right.” She mumbled bitterly as she tried to continue pushing her cart past you, “Sorry, what was that?” You say, causing the woman to pause in her steps before turning to face you. 

“I said it serves you right. Only a bit of karma for being so reckless. Now look at you, you have a child all on your own with no father to provide.” You scoffed, mouth already opening ready to argue. Mira wasn’t one of your own but you were more than ready to defend her as if she was. 

“Turn around.” You nearly forgot Jungkook was only a few meters away until he made his presence known with a deep voice and a strong stance. With a visibly intimidated gaze, she scanned him up from his shoes to his face, obviously noting the lavish material of his suit. 

“It’s ignorant people like you that piss me off. Spewing out non-sense and making assumptions about others, unaware of how idiotic you sound.” You couldn’t believe the lady was going to try and debate with him, but her words were immediately shut down and replaced with Jungkook’s warning ones.

“You should apologize for bumping into her and my child before I show you just how ‘reckless’ I can be.” Listening to Jungkook throw the woman’s words back in her face with a cautionary tone only made you appreciate his natural instincts to protect the people he cared about even more.

The woman slowly turned to you with a sour face and mumbled an incoherent apology, “Hm? I can’t hear you?” With another roll of her eyes, she repeated her apology a little louder this time and scurried off, leaving you and Jungkook behind.

“Can you believe her?” You scoffed at the unpleasant encounter while Jungkook crouched down to check on Mira, making sure she was okay but it seemed as if she didn’t feel a thing.

“I know.” He groans as he runs a hand through his hair before picking back up the basket. “But I’m a bit curious of what you were going to say if I hadn’t spoken up, you seemed ready to fight--as always.” He smiles, referencing your numerous heated arguments with customers back at the club.

“Of course I was, and I would’ve fought her if I had to--” You explained.

“-But not in front of my baby right?” Jungkook places a hand on the stroller.

“Of course not, any physical altercations would take place strictly at the rear of the stroller.” You smile as Jungkook laughs along, turning into the next aisle. 

[makkie-is-screaming]

had to do a big grocery run with my mom n idk why but I was so out of it n almost ran into multiple people.

[graqefruito]

ramen noodles~ georgenotfound

pairing: georgenotfound x gn!reader

type: fluff!!!

cw: not much, eating, going to a shop perhaps! pls pls let me know if anything else needs to be said here :)

this is for @heyskeppy​ ‘s 600 event!! (well done well done) if you want to join too here is the link to their post!! thank you so much for letting me enter, hopefully this is alright <33 

Tumbling slightly out of the car, you managed to stay upright and began walking towards the small shop in front of you. The neon signs were no constellations, yet you navigated by them just the same. It was as if every vivid summer petal had been sacrificed, crushed and squeezed into that store sign so it could shout louder than the moon and stars. And you were extremely thankful for that as it was currently 2:27 am and your eyes had fogged up, hazy with a lack of sleep.

Turning back for a second, you saw George trudging flimsily behind, acting as if his feet were made of iron, weighing him down. You paused your advancement towards the store and waited as he languidly lumbered closer to you. Holding out a hand for him to take, you waited until his cold, pale skin grasped onto yours. Then hand in hand you both made your way towards the shop, watching as the gap-toothed neon open sign sneered at the bleak car park.

It wasn’t long until you felt the warm glow of the synthetic store lights on your skin as you stepped through the grime-ridden door. Countless aisles stood anonymously, lined in perfect symmetry. Tonnes of fresh produce were crammed onto each shelf, yet no customers to purchase and only one member of staff occupied the desolate supermarket. You pulled George a little bit harder till you were met with a grunt as he stopped to get a trolley for the both of you. Stuffing a pound coin in the slot, he unclasped the chain keeping the shopping carts all together and rolled it over to you. Grabbing the trolley with one hand and George’s palm with the other you continued your pursuit into the grocery store. George let out a low chuckle, noticing the way your pace picked up as you nonchalantly sprinted past the vegetables and then again past the fruits.

Making your way to the snack aisle, you let go of the trolley, letting it trundle along the plain tile flooring going down its own path. The selection was varied and you and George raced down the aisle picking up random bags and flinging them in the vicinity of your cart. Piles of sweets, biscuits and crisps were now forming a mound as they were continuously being hurled. 

Abruptly, a loud screech blared and echoed throughout the deserted store as your worn converse slid to a halt in front of a specific item. Shuffling up behind you, George stopped too, a smile breaking out on his face in concurrence with yours. Looking at each other for a simple split second, you both grabbed three packs of the ramen noodles and tossed them on the side of the food mountain, a particular section George had named ‘Gogy Gradient’ making you giggle at the poor choice of words. 

Then with bliss he disclosed and declared the name of the top of ‘Gogy Gradient’ - y/n peak. Though it was silly, you felt a warm peachy glow illuminate in the pit of your stomach and your nose crinkled like tissue paper. As you shook your head light-heartedly at George, he took no notice and instead tried to push the now bulky and cumbersome trolley to the service point. Noticing his clear struggle, you lilted over to help, both of you enforcing every last dribble of energy to try and shift the cart.

After an age of pushing, you finally made it to the tills, only one in service with a seemingly ancient man as the cashier. A wizened face peered out from under a wedge of blue hat, which was the only thing on his otherwise bald and mottled scalp, save a sparse fringe of white. His eyes were so heavily lidded and weighed down with wrinkled folds that it was almost like talking to someone asleep, yet he was quite alert. He took no time in scanning and sliding every snack, till he was finished. Not seeing the last ramen noodle pot tumbling towards him.

“Will that be all?”

You had been expecting the croak of old age but his voice was more like a sergeant major, strong and distinctly upper class. Frozen to the spot with confusion over his voice, you both forgot you had to reply.

“Oh, oh um y-yes thank you sir” you stuttered out, still in shock by his gravely tone, “oh wait sorry, sir, you missed something, so sorry”

No words were spoken, only the long overworked sigh that emanated from his mouth.

He quickly scanned the last pot, wasting no time in getting your total up, which George rapidly tapped his card and payed for, letting you both leave the store not long after you had entered it.

The streets of London were unsurprisingly clear for a Monday evening, or rather Tuesday morning, at now 2:56 am. You were able to drive home in no time, which was convenient as George had spent the entire time moaning about how hungry he was and how much he wanted a cup of warm noodles and how he wanted to finish watching the film that he had put of pause just to go and get food. The whole 10 minutes it took to get home he spent moaning and groaning about something new and you just listened. You loved just listening to George talk, whether he was ranting or telling you about coding or just talking about absolutely nothing, it meant everything to you. So as you drove back from the small Tesco’s a tiny smile had weaved its way onto your face.

Finally though, you got home and while George put the stuff away and started the ramen, you relaxed into the sofa and suffocated your body in blankets. Each soft quilt felt fluid against your skin as the fluff soothed you to comfort. Soon enough, George pottered back over to you with two hot steaming mugs. The questioning look on your face led to him explaining that the two of you had ran out of bowls and so he resorted to the closest option because he was ‘not giving up his ramen for a stupid lack of bowls’. The sass in his tone made you lightly chuckle as you took the mug from his hands along with a fork and shuffled across the sofa to let George join you. Playing the movie, you threw your legs into a criss cross and brought the mug towards your mouth, taking a sip of the broth.

“Tastes good Georgie” you smiled, taking in how adorable he looked, covered in blankets fiddling with a forkful of ramen noodles from a mug.

“Of course it does, I made it.” He quipped back, a grin plastered on his face and his left eyebrow quirked.

You simply giggled back and placed your mug down, letting your body fall against George’s, tousling his hair gently. His lips allighted on your cheek like a dew freckled petal caught in a breeze, so soft and with the smallest hint of coolness. Then he peacefully watched as a carnation blush blossomed across your smiling cheeks. You only cuddled further into his body, snuggling up against him, chest to chest, your heartbeat slowly caught up to his, as if your bodies reacted simultaneously to your warm touch.

[wiypt-writes]

Murder, He Wrote

Part 7

Summary: Ransom makes good on his promise and your parents arrive for dinner. But then, you discover something that brings your entire world shattering down around you once more…

Warnings: Bad language words. MATURE (NSFW 18+) NON-CON situation, kidnap and violence. DO NOT READ IF ANY OF THOSE TRIGGER… READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!!!

Pairing: DARK! Ransom Drysdale x Reader

A/N:  So here it is, the last chapter to this series! I can’t believe all this spun from @jtargaryen18​‘s Halloween challenge last year, and here we are 6 months later! Of course, I’d love to thank my writing partner from the earlier chapters, but sadly she’s no longer on Tumblr. Without her none of this would have been possible. I love you SG wherever you are. Thank you to everyone who has read and engaged so far and I hope you’ve enjoyed it as much as I’ve enjoyed writing. The Epilogue will follow next week and trust me, you do NOT want to miss that!!

In this, the reader has a sister, however feel free to interpret the Y/S/N element as sibling instead, if that appeals to you.

Word Count: 8.5k (I’m sorry I don’t do short fics, really I am!!)

READ THE WARNINGS!!!! This is a DARK Series… don’t @ me if you can’t follow simple instructions and end up with butt-hurt. And if you’re under 18…get off my blog.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and by writing it does NOT mean I agree with or condone the acts contained within. This fiction is classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar reader and any other OCs that may or may not be mentioned. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Murder, He Wrote Masterlist // Main Masterlist.

Part 6

 “Will you relax?” Ransom drawled from where he sat, sprawled back on the sofa in the main lounge of the house, his denim clad legs crossed at the ankles, his black cashmere sweater torso melting against the cushions. “It’s just your parents, what’s the big deal?” You weighed your reply but instead smiled, he couldn't possibly understand. He wouldn't. "Let me just have this moment, please." He looked at you, his eyebrow arched before he scoffed, “whatever, Sweetheart. But if you’re gonna keep pacing up and down, can you do it in the hallway? The wood flooring is a lot more hardwearing.” With a roll of your eyes you left the lounge, wringing your hands together. This was the first time in months you'd be seeing your parents and it wasn't lost on you the charade you'd have to keep up despite wanting to somehow plea for a rescue. It was also worrying how they were going to react. Especially following the call you’d made a week or so ago, just before New Year’s Eve.

When you’d dialled the number you knew off by heart, your mother had answered. And upon hearing your voice she had shrieked and then the line had gone quiet until your father had spoken your name with a trembling voice. You’d been unable to answer straight away, your own voice catching, before a sob had burst from your throat and the tears had poured down your face. You’d managed a few, choked words of apologies until Ransom had pushed himself up from the seat he had been perched in, silently observing. He curled his arm over your shoulder, giving you a squeeze as you composed yourself. Eventually, you’d managed to calm yourself down and thankfully your dad hadn’t asked too many questions but had accepted your invite to dinner.

And now, here you were, nervously awaiting their arrival.

It wasn’t lost on you that, in their eyes, the fact you had cut them off was your decision, not forced on you by the man you were now sharing a bed with. And that was your other worry, you had no idea how he was going to behave. If Ransom showed your family the same contempt he displayed to his own, your dad wasn’t the type of man who would stand for it. And then what? But you had zero time to think on it as the doorbell rang. Your heart leapt to your throat and your stomach turned acidic. Ransom poked his head out of the lounge and looked at you expectantly, like you were to answer. Adjusting your sweater dress for the millionth time, you walked to the front door and reached for the knob with a shaky hand. You steeled your nerves and blinked hard to dissipate the tears, and opened the door. For the first time in months you looked back into the familiar eyes of your parents. Your mom’s face was pinched, as if she was chewing the inside of her cheeks and as you glanced to your dad you already noticed the daggers he was shooting at the man behind you. To anyone else it would be enough to make them quake in their shoes, but not Ransom. “Mom, Dad.” Your voice sounded alien as you spoke quietly, your fingers grabbing at the bottom of your sleeves as one of Ransom’s hands curled over your shoulder. "Y/N," your dad replied, and the awkwardness officially set in.

"Aren't you going to invite them in, Sweetheart?" Ransom's voice made you jump a bit.

"Yes, please, come in," you stepped aside for them to enter. "Welcome to, erm, our home."

Calling it that felt all sorts of wrong, but you didn’t have time to dwell on it. Besides, it wasn’t like you could call it what it was, your prison. Your father stepped inside followed by your mother, the foyer now feeling a little crowded. Your mother was quick to pull you in for a hug. But it was brief and not the way she used to hug you, no, this hug felt like it came from a stranger. Your dad’s embrace, however, was everything you remembered. Safety, strength and love and you felt yourself melt into his arms, choking back a sob as you pressed your face into his chest. "We appreciate you coming to dinner," Ransom spoke, breaking the embrace you shared with your father. "It's nice to finally meet you both. I'm Ransom." Your dad looked at you as you nodded, wiping the tears from your eyes as he looked to Ransom. “We know who you are. With the news, the papers and Y/N's article, we've probably become more acquainted than you're aware.” He spoke calmly but cooly, gripping Ransom’s outstretched hand with a less than friendly shake, one that would make a lesser man wince. Instead, you saw what you thought was a flicker of amusement on Ransom's face before your dad released his hand and you introduced your mother. She didn’t offer her hand. Instead she gave a sniff and took a deep breath, getting straight to the point as she always did. “Well, this is all very nice and everything but what the hell do you think you’re playing at, Y/N? You disappeared with no trace, we thought you were dead, and then we find out you're not. Instead you’re, with him, choosing not to contact us or speak to us? Forgive me for the brash and abrupt approach, but before we sit down for dinner, we deserve some answers.” Her voice gathered pace and volume as she continued to rail at you, telling you how worried and sick the entire family had been, how thanksgiving and Christmas without you had been awful and whatever else she had on her mind as she spewed her words at you, her face an eyes blazing with anger. You felt sick, never had you meant for any of this to happen, clearly. And you'd secretly hoped Ransom would have seen the devastation he'd caused by his actions, however you knew that was an ill-fated hope just as well. You struggled to speak, the words jumbling around in your head and your mouth bone dry. "I'm so sorry," Ransom sighed. "Why don't we come into the lounge and have a drink or two and we can talk all about it? I know that Y/N was looking forward to your visit and clearing the air."

He looked at you as he ushered towards the lounge, a hidden smugness to his face that only you could detect. He thought he'd just played the hero, the prince saving his distressed princess. “Good idea,” your dad nodded, his hand gently on the base of your mother’s spine, “come on, Honey.” “Straight down, second on your right.” Ransom informed as your parents headed off a little ahead of you.

“Now, remember, what you tell them has to match what you said to Blanc.” Ransom took your hand in his and spoke quietly as you both began to follow your parents. “I. Know.” You grit though your teeth and jerked your hand free of his. He stopped dead and turned to face you, and for the first time ever you saw something akin to fear on his face, you were resisting that much anger. “Y/N...” he started but you shook your head. “You have no idea how much you’ve hurt them or me do you? That or you simply still don’t care.” You hissed before you took a deep breath and drew yourself up tall. “But, we’ll just go in there, spin a load of more lies and that’s it, all done isn’t it?” He blinked before his jaw set and he shook his head. “I’m warning you...” “What else is new?” You sighed. “Don’t worry, I won’t say anything and I’ll still be here when they leave.” You stepped a pace or two in front of him and entered the lounge. Your parents were sitting on the couch you'd become very familiar with while Ransom moved straight for the drink cart. "Mr. Y/L/N, can I interest you in a top shelf scotch?" "Mom," you said softly as the conversation between your dad and Ransom faded out, "Ransom and I have a great white wine if you'd like or..." "Scotch is fine," she interrupted you, a stone cold look to her disappointed face. Ransom served the drinks, handing you your preferred wine with a kiss to your head. You watched how your parents interacted with him, the way your father watched every calculated step, the way your mother shot daggers in the two of you as you sat opposite them on the love seat. You leaned forward so as to move a bit away from Ransom, however, he was quick to put his arm over the back of the love seat, his hand able to still touch you. “So, erm, how’s....” “Your sister? Nanna? Granddad? Who would you like to start with?” Your mom took a sip of her drink and you dropped your eyes, your gaze focussed on your hands as they rubbed together. 

"I'm sorry, okay?” You stuttered, shaking your head. “I know you’re angry and upset and you have every right to be but... I didn’t do any of this on purpose.” “That detective man, Blanc, and the police... they said you didn’t want us to know where you were...” “I didn’t.” You choked on the lie a little. “My head was a mess and...” you sniffed as you felt Ransom’s fingers graze the skin on the back of your neck as you looked at your mom. “Mom, please, please don't make tonight continue with vicious jabs and vile glares. I'm sorry, to you, to everyone. I was...." you stopped and centred yourself. "I was lost and I didn't know what to do." "Why don't we just get this out of the way then maybe we can move on with our evening?" Ransom suggested and your father nodded in shocking agreement. "Let's let her explain, Dear. She said she made a mistake and there were good reasons she couldn't come to us, I'm sure. Let's just hear her out." Your father was always the more sensible one. You mother took a shaky breath and looked at you and you swallowed before you started to talk, the lie you had rehearsed in your head slipping from your lips. “I erm, I was having a bit of trouble at work and everything just got too much and... well, I don’t know what happened, a breakdown or whatever,” you took a deep breath, “I just needed to get away, from everything.” “Including us?” Your mom asked and you shook your head. “I wasn’t thinking straight, I just...” "You know, it doesn’t matter what you say to explain because frankly, I won't understand but I do hope that you never have to experience what we went through. Ever." She deadpanned. "I do believe that is my fault, Mrs. Y/L/N. I encouraged her approach and didn't discourage the fact that she wasn't contacting you or anyone she was close with." Ransom sighed, feigning concern for your parents.

You knew what he was doing, the Master Manipulator was coming out in him and you knew there was no going back, no. It was as if Ransom said 'challenge accepted' in winning your parents over. Just, so you assumed, the night would end and you'd be happy in his arms and they'd never think twice about your brief disappearance again. “We hadn’t been seeing each other that long, and my reputation isn’t the greatest. But I should have put my own concerns aside and seen that the way we were going about things was wrong and I should have insisted she reached out. You see, me and my family aren’t close and I sometimes forget that we’re the ones that aren’t normal.” "We hadn't known she was seeing anyone," your mum stated. She was out with her claws, not going to let Ransom nor you off so easily.

"Well, I'm not like Y/S/N, Mom. I don't just bring home whomever I'm taking to bed that month." You'd said it before you could stop it. Never had you said something like that before about your sister, nor spoken to your mother like that. And you didn't miss the twitch of a smirk to the corner of Ransom's lips, telling you he was a bit proud. Surely, you didn't want him to be rubbing off on you in that way. "I'm sorry, that wasn't how I meant it. I just knew I had to be more careful in sharing everything. Like he said, he's not got the best rap, but, after my interview on him, well I guess I just found him intriguing and-“ “Ah, yes," your father now spoke up, cutting you off, “the smear and redact. Believe me, Ransom, we're very familiar with your reputation and our daughter's initial thoughts on you. Which is why you can see how we were a little surprised, once the initial shock of her supposed death wore off, that the two of you were... together." “I understand.” Ransom nodded. “And I would feel the same in your shoes. But, well, I guess after the interview things just kind of spiralled from there. I don’t really know how it happened myself, to be honest, I’m just glad it did.” As if he was sealing the deal, he leaned toward you and pressed his lips to your temple. You sighed and gave him a smile. This bastard was smug enough to start shifting the tone in the room with a metaphorical snap of his fucking fingers and you watched it work on your parents. The ice slowly melting away, the glacial peak softening around your mother. And then the metaphorical snap became a real one as he moved his arm from round you, clicked the fingers of both hands and then slapped his left palm with the underside of his right fist with a flourish as he flashed a smile round the room. “Okay, so....who’s hungry?”

Your parents both raised their eyebrows and as your mom looked at your dad, you saw him shake his head ever so slightly and she took a deep breath, before she turned back to Ransom and you, a small smile on her face. “Dinner sounds great.” "Sweetheart, after you," Ransom politely shifted to the side so you could rise and lead the way. He turned back to your parents, "we wanted to make sure we were able to spend as much time together without the chore of preparing and cleaning up after so we had dinner brought in. Y/N had it all set just before you arrived." You shot him a glare as you moved by him, your mother and father behind you, Ransom pulling up the rear. Sure enough, still warm and catered were four place settings at the table in the large dining room across and down a bit from the lounge. Your parents sat down across the table from where you and Ransom stood, silver dome lids obscuring your eyeline as you sat. Oddly, you'd never eaten in the dining room before. It was your room in the basement, the kitchen table or the coffee table in the lounge. Red wine and cutlery were already set along with water. Your parents and Ransom set their scotch glasses near the wine. Your dad arched an eyebrow at the ostentatious nature of it all and you caught his gaze as he gave you a kneeling smirk. With a laugh, you realized that someone should at least remove the lids, and since you were the host, you rose from your chair and bent over the table a little, reaching for the knobs of their domes. You stacked them together and sat back down, pulling yours and Ransom's as you went.

As you settled down to eat, your parents both complimented the food before a little silence fell as you all ate, the occasional clanking of cutlery against the porcelain plates ringing out across the large room. Ransom made a few comments here and there about the food from the company you’d ordered from being good, as usual, your parents agreeing before a light conversation struck up about the holidays and various other mundane topics, all as if you were close and the conversation prior hadn't happened. Like it was a regular Sunday family dinner. All the time, you spotted your parents growing more and more comfortable with the situation, and you felt yourself relax a little, hoping and praying that things would keep amicable.

And then, after another spell of silence you heard your mother clear her throat. "So, Ransom, what is you do? I never gathered that from…well, from…” she trailed off and Ransom took a dep breath. “To be honest with you, Mrs. Y/L/N, not a great deal until recently. Just another way Y/N managed to help me change my life around." He looked at you with appreciation. "She made me see that living my life riding off people’s coat tails wasn’t really anything to be proud of.” He paused to take a sip of his scotch before he cut another piece of his steak. “Now I’m writing. I have a couple of things on the go and a few from my grandfather that he never finished so, hopefully, they’ll take off.” This bastard! You could not believe the bullshit that so easily sprang from his mouth. It was fascinating and yet absolutely disgusting at once. You found yourself convinced, and not for the first time, that he actually believed the shit he talked. "What's your book about, if you don’t mind me asking?" You father queried, after swallowing down his steak with his wine, saving his scotch for after. “Not at all,” Ransom swallowed his food. “Another area I’ve taken inspiration from, it’s based on a private detective.” He gave a chuckle. “I’ll be handing out a lot of royalties and dedications at this rate.” "Just a private detective?" You pressed, having wondered yourself as he'd told you once before you were an inspiration. He looked at you, smirking a little. “I’ve told you, Princess, I’ll let you read it when the first draft is done.”

Your father eyed you as Ransom spoke of pet names and inspirations. Your eyes flitted away from his gaze, entertaining Ransom's portion of the conversation but you found them quickly fluttering back to those kind eyes that matched yours. At that point, your dad shot you a sweet father-like wink before clearing his throat and speaking.  "So, let's not beat around the obvious, this is awkward." He paused to emphasize his point. "I'll just come right out with it. What could your future intentions be with my daughter?"

"Jesus Christ, Dad!" You surely hadn't seen that coming.  Ransom blinked a little before he cleared his throat. “I’ll keep her as long as I can, Sir.”

At that, his hand curled over your knee, giving a gentle squeeze and you took a deep breath, drawing your back up straight as his hand gently started to trail further up towards your thigh, fingers still hot on your skin through the layer of your thick tights. You cleared your throat, and moved a little, and Ransom removed his hand, a smirk blatantly evident on his face.

“Good to know.” Your dad reached for his wine again, a teasing smile on his face. “I mean the lease has gone on her apartment now and we turned her room into a gym the moment she moved out.”

“Oh purlease!” Your mom scoffed, “a gym. By that he means he has a rowing machine and a bunch of weights that serve as nothing more than expensive door stops.”

At that Ransom gave a full belly laugh, his head tipping back with just the right amount of humour. Not too much to appear fake, but enough to seem like the exchange had genuinely amused him. He almost had you fooled too.

Bastard.

The rest of the dinner past with fairly amicable chat, the ice well and truly broken. Ransom and your father struck up a pleasant conversation about football and then baseball, Ransom confessing that he hadn’t been following either sport much recently but also nodding when your dad suggested that perhaps they could catch a game sometime soon, in a bar. At that you had smirked into your glass, as you knew the thought of going to a place surrounded by a load of loud, drunken members of the public would be Ransom’s idea of hell. The idea that he might just have to follow through on your promise amused you, a lot.

Eventually, your parents both announced that they should be going, and the warmth and happiness that had descended on you began to slowly seep away as you hugged them both good bye. As they headed down to their car, you stifled down a sob as you waved them away, realising you had no idea when you’d be seeing them again. That was on Ransom, for him to decide when and if you deserved it.

But, you’d played his game. You’d behaved. He said he wanted you to trust him, to be content with him. Surely, he would realise that this was the happiest you’d been since he snatched you, and if you continued to behave then he would have no reason to keep you from seeing them for so long again.

With a sigh you turn away from the door and step back inside, Ransom just behind you. You stopped and waited for him to close the door and lock it. He gave you a little twitch of a smile. 

“Well, that wasn’t as painful as I expected.”

You rolled your eyes.

"You were great, Sweetheart."

"Yeah, well, you won them over. I doubt they suspected anything by the time they left." Your words didn't cut him, they cut you. You cleared your throat and shook your head, "anyway, I'm going to go clean up. I'll meet you upstairs."

"What, no 'thank you'?" He piqued.

You turned back to him, "Thank you, Ransom. For allowing my parents to come over."

“That wouldn’t be sarcasm, now would it?” He arched a brow, his arms folding across his chest.

"Oh, no, not at all," you overly pouted, stepping up to him, running your hands over his chest to seal your own sarcastic ploy.

His hands were quick to grab your wrists and oddly there was an air of excitement to your eyes.

“What on earth is there to possibly be sarcastic about?” You continued and he scoffed.

“It’s a good thing I kinda like your sass.”

You simply quirk your eyebrows and give a small shrug before attempting to turn away. However, Ransom still had a hold of your wrists and he kept you rooted near by.

“Ransom, what...”

“Leave the dishes, the maid comes tomorrow. I pay her enough, she can deal with it.”

You scoffed, “you’re such an asshole.”

"Come to bed with me," he asked more than suggested.

Since your little tryst in his precious car a week ago, he'd been far more touchy-feely, needy even. And in your eyes, Ransom Drysdale didn't do needy. However, this neediness served a purpose. You were able to keep him soft in all but one place, manipulating his needs for your own.

“You want me to come to bed with you?” You playfully quipped, cocking your head to one side.

“You want me to beg or something, Y/N?” His voice lowered as he narrowed his eyes. “Because I can make it a demand not a request.”

“Not beg, no.” You ignored his threat. “But a please wouldn’t go amiss.”

His controlling hands moved your arms around his neck before they fell away to your waist. His forehead bent into yours and his nose brushed against the tip of your own. "Please, come to bed with me, baby," he whispered against you.

You were smirking inside as his lips met yours in a deep kiss, his tongue gently flicking through your lips and sliding against yours. 

“Since you asked so nicely.”

It was a quick swoop, one that completely caught you off guard as he pulled you off your feet, his arm around your back while the other was hooked under your legs. His lips were on yours as he carried you to the staircase, not ever missing a beat or step, his tongue gliding over yours as he walked.

You didn't know how the two of you had made it up to your bedroom, and without incident but, the next thing you knew, you were led flat over your bed, his body caging you in.

“You said I did well.” You looked at him and he blinked, his brow furrowing a little. “How well?”

Silently as you waited, hoping he would take the bait.

And he did.

“Very well.” his eyes searched yours and you bit your lip.

“Well enough for me to see them again?”

"If you want, maybe lunch with your mother," he answered, kissing over your jaw and down your neck between each phrase.

You stilled, shock hitting your system and just how easily he had offered that up, you hadn’t even had to try. Noticing your change in body language Ransom paused and looked at you. “What? Don’t you want to?”

“No, I mean yes, of course I do. I just wasn’t expecting you to say that. I mean...” you stopped yourself short of saying what you had been about to, that you were his damned prisoner and until a week or so ago hadn’t left the grounds at all in months. You swallowed as Ransom sighed.

"Trust, remember, baby," he leaned back on his knees between your legs. "Call her in a couple of days, set up lunch."

“And you trust me to do that?” You swallowed. “No stupid tricks or mind games?”

"I won't be far behind." There it was, the stipulation. That silent warning heeding a tone left unsaid. “That said, I’m kinda hoping we’re past the point of me having to remind you about certain things to make you come back.”

"I understand."

Ransom shook his head, licking his lips. “No, I don’t think you do.” 

There was a tone of sadness almost to his voice and you watched him, his eyes locked onto yours and then you understood.

This went right back to the core of all this. He wanted you to want to come back. Not to simply do it because you have to. It was the ever present chink in his armour, the one thing you’d been able to exploit.

And, if you were being totally honest, could more than likely learn to live with the situation if you could have some kind of grasp and control, because that’s what this was about. That ever present power struggle and desperation he has within him to be more than people simply assumed him to be.

In a twisted way, you were almost proud to see the difference in his behaviour over the last few months was insurmountable. Whether that was directly down to you or not, you couldn’t be sure, but something had made him tap into that part of himself that could show reasonableness, rationality and, dare you suggest it, compassion.

Whilst you knew you’d never forget how he had taken you, against your will, or the pain and violence he had inflicted upon your body, maybe, in time, you could forgive. 

Because he simply hadn’t known any better.

"I'm not going anywhere," you spoke softly, sitting up to caress his cheek. His evening stubble scratched at your palm.

His eyes squinted shut, holding back an emotional response to her promise. There was so much he wanted to say but he couldn't. He physically could not bring the words out from his throat. So he did what he had always done, or thought he could, and that was to show her. Show her what he wanted to say. His lips pressed into the palm of her hand and as her fingers rubbed along his ear and behind his head, his lips travelled the length of the soft skin of her forearm until he pressed a delicate kiss to the crook of her elbow.

Turning his head, he caught her lips in a soft kiss which grew deeper as he pressed his body into hers, grinding his hardness against her groin. He felt the exhale from her nose against his cheek as his tongue muted the groan from her throat. His free hand skated up her thigh, to the hem of her sweater dress, bunching it in his fist. At that point, her hand gently wrapped around his wrist and he stopped, pulling away to look at her, his brow creased in puzzlement.

“Let me.” She whispered.

He swallowed hard and gave a short nod. She sat up and he leant back as she did, her hand against his chest, guiding him how she wanted him. As her hands fiddled with his flies, his eyes never left hers. When she tugged on the waistband of his jeans, he raised his hips slightly to allow her to pull them down, taking his boxers with them and he gave a slight sigh at the relief his rock hard dick was now free from it’s constraints.

“Feel good?” She smirked at the sound he made.

He nodded, “yes”, his voice gruff and gravelly.

No sooner had she said it, she’d taken him in her mouth. Instinctively, he bucked upwards, his hands settling in her hair, head falling back against the pillow as he hissed.

When his hips rutted upwards a second time, she moved back, releasing him with a pop and he glanced down at her, his face full of frustration but she simply smirked at him.

“Stop moving." 

The control of the situation wasn't his, it was hers and he was fully aware of it as she changed her pace, quick-quick-slow and if he squirmed she stopped.

A roll of his balls between her hand made him shudder. “Jesus Christ,” he groaned, “fuck, Y/N!”

She responded by taking him to the back of her throat, and the noise that came from his was halfway between a growl and a whimper as it stumbled from his mouth.

On and on this went, and every time she brought him to the edge and he couldn’t control his movements she stopped. It was a delicious torture, but one he was fast reaching his limit with.

“Fuck, baby, I…” his hands raked through her hair as she bobbed up and down on his shaft, her tongue pressing against the thick vein on the underside of his cock. He moaned loudly, “I gotta…”

"No," she purred, kitten licking the slit in his head, the precum dripping onto her tongue. Her lips enclosed over him again, short bobs until she was making long strides at deep throating him. 

She squealed as his hands tightened around her hair, squeezing at the strands to pull her back but she kept her pace, his hips giving way to a violent thrust to the back of her throat as he came hard, his spend shooting deep, coating her inside. His chest heaved as he came down from his high, not letting up on his grip until he was done trembling in euphoria. 

Then in a beat he flipped her to her back and hand his hands over the waistband of her tights, "that wasn't smart, Sweetheart," he growled. 

His eyes flashed in challenge as she giggled and whispered, "I thought it was." 

The force of him tearing her tights as he pulled them away from her legs bothered neither of them, her thin panties soaked and leaving a wet trail down her leg as he removed them, had him salivating. 

"You think it's funny? I'm gonna see how you like it," he challenged. 

Ransom wasted no time in taking a fast swipe at her leaking cunt with his tongue and Y/N cried out as he flicked the tip of his tongue over her swollen and throbbing clit. Her hands went straight to his hair, her knees practically boxing his ears as she curled her body towards his ample assault. 

His long arm slid up her body, over her tummy between her beasts as his splayed his fingers open across her skin, trying to press her back into the mattress. As she complied, she gave a gripping tug to his longer locks and Ransom emitted an elicit growl against her pussy. 

"Jesus Christ," she cried out, the sound sweet in his ears. 

"You taste so fucking good, baby," he spoke against just above her mounded flesh, whilst his fingers sought a wet refuge. He wasted no time in sliding two in, middle and ring fingers, slipping in a first, then second knuckle deep then scissoring inside her until they were all the way in. 

His lips curled around her clit as hers had done to his head, humming over the bud of pleasure, a pressure she nearly exploded over. 

"Oh, no, you don't get to do that yet," he stated firmly. The command made her twitch under him, her breath audibly hitching in her chest. "You're gonna cum on my cock as I fill that pussy up."

"Fuck, Ransom, please," she begged. 

"It's not funny now is it?" He slipped away from her body, sitting back on his heels and removed his own sweater. "Get naked, Princess."

He watched as she struggled to strip of the heavy sweater dress she wore, a stark difference to the fearful prize he had to himself months ago. Now she was his and he loved every single moment of it. From her sassy, smart mouth to the way she took his dick on demand. Ransom slipped his pants away, the two of them both naked and awaiting what was next. He wanted to flip her onto her tummy, rail her from behind while she took it on her hands and knees, keening at him as he thrust into her. 

But instead, he spread her legs wide and slotted his thick cock between her legs, her ankles locking around his narrow hips as he thrust in and gave a naughty twist of his hips. Slow, deep, nasty ruts into her core bounced her tits just a little and he found the wanton cries of her need to be enticing enough to lap at her nipples and breasts, licking and nipping at her skin. Grinding into her as he licked and kissed his way up her neck to that spot that made her cave in at the base of her jaw, jointed just below her ear. 

Her hands wound their way into his hair again and she gripped the strands, giving a pull back, restraining his neck a bit before she let up, allowing his head to drop a pinch. 

Chills covered his sweat sheened skin as she whispered, "harder" into his ear. His body quivered and his stomach fluttered. 

"Fuck, yes." He pulled out and flipped her to her tummy, like he'd wanted to do before. "On your knees, baby. Let me see that pussy."

She positioned like he demanded, a little sway of her hips telling him she was ready. A swift spank to her rounded ass and she cried out as he slammed home. 

"Oh, baby," she mewled as he filled her from behind, bruising fingertips pressing into her hips. 

Her lips praising him, using his nickname for her on him ignited a fire in his belly, his hips snapping harshly against her, his balls slapping against her clit. But it wasn't his pace and the pressure building in his body that was causing him to bury deep inside her, his head rubbing that g-spot that was making her moan filthy words. No, it was the look she gave as she turned her head to just peer over her should the same minute he was throbbing to cum inside her. 

"I'm...fuck, fucking cum, baby girl," he whimpered, desperately holding back so she could cream over his cock. 

And cum she did, her pulsating walls gripping him in a tight squeeze as she pulled him in with a force, literally crying out his name as she came. Her body practically convulsing in pleasure as he filled her up with his seed. The two of them collapsing against the expensive sheets, his body led over hers, still sheathed inside her as they both sagged and panted. 

As if high on the throws of their ecstasy, Ransom kissed along her back with heavy lips and hooded eyes. He could taste the saltiness of her skin, the dampness of sweet sweat a leaving a wet coating over his lips. And when he could feel the blood return to his extremities, he ever so gently pulled out of her, his body sore and tired. She whined at the feeling of his weight escaping her body, but he was quick to fill that void, replacing it with the heat of his frame as he pulled her close, allowing her head to rest against his bare and sculpted chest. He pressed his lips onto the crown of her head. 

"Sleep, baby," he whispered. "Just relax and sleep."

***** For weeks things were good, maybe even really good. Ransom was giving you more freedom, not yet unattended, but you weren't locked away. He'd made do on his promise. 

You had a great lunch with your mother, at the Country Club, in which he'd set up. He'd driven you there, waited in the bar but could easily keep an eye on you. Whilst he might have had ulterior motives that were slightly more sinister than merely being there to keep an eye on you in case you had a panic attack (the excuse you gave to your mother), all in all you didn’t mind. You, too, didn't doubt he paid the waiter a hefty tip to stay nearby as he'd checked on your table more often than most or necessary, again, you didn't mind. 

But despite his hovering, a point you'd made when you'd returned, he promised he trusted you so to save the pains of an argument, you let it go. You'd kept your own promise, never to drop a hint to your mother or anyone else that you weren't less than a free woman.

As the days neared Valentine's Day, Ransom seemed to be more touchy than usual and more than once you'd caught him softly staring at you. His eyes conveying more emotion than they did. Not unlike the first few nights when things had drastically changed between you in November. And when the day arrived, you both exchanged gifts after an early morning wakeup call that you most certainly did not mind. Ransom seemed genuinely pleased with the new silk scarf you’d ordered, having thought it would be a nice replacement for the one he had left at the mansion and point blank refused to return to collect.

For your gift, he handed you a small white envelope. Giving him a puzzled look, you opened it and pulled out a small card.

‘In our favourite room you'll find, your gift my beautiful Valentine.’

Instantly you felt an uncomfortable cold feeling in the pit of your stomach and you swallowed a little. It was a clue, exactly like the ones he had set for you all that time ago on Halloween the previous year. But, as you blinked and looked at him, you saw the expectation on his face and had to remind yourself that this was different.

This was not the same man.

"Is it at least wrapped in a bow, so I know it's mine?" You asked and he smirked a little, leaning back against the headboard of the bed.

 "Trust me, you'll know when you see it."

With a final look at him, you climbed out of bed and pulled on your silk slip before you headed down the stairs. As soon as you’d read the clue, you knew he meant the study. But, when you opened the door, you started to wonder if you’d made a mistake as there was nothing there jumping out at you, at all.

You started rummaging through the stack of things on the desk, looking for anything that resembled a gift. In your haste, you accidentally knocked small stack of notebooks over the edge of the desk. You rushed to get them and straighten them up, hoping not to mess up the order of things he'd had piled together. The moment the leather-bound journal like book touched your fingers, a jolt of curiosity ran through you. 

You opened the cover and ran your fingertips over the dried ink that sat engraved on the pages, a bold and all capitalized print to the handwriting. Not a surprise from a man who's harsh overture played constantly on the surface. Your eyes scanned and scanned the scroll, a frown creased your brow as you registered the meaning of all his notes.

These weren't just any sort of notes, these were his footnotes for his book. And that now disorganized stack of papers that moments ago littered the floor, you looked at them again and realized there among the typed and printed pieces of paper, was his manuscript. 

Hesitating, you picked it up. The front page was plain bar the words. ‘Murder, He Wrote’ and you scoffed at the fact that was the title of the article that had gotten you into this situation in the first place. Mind you, he had said you were a muse of sorts so maybe that was his way of tribute.

You flipped through, skimming the pages, finding yourself strangely proud if you will, that he��d actually finished it, well what appeared to be the first draft anyway. It was indeed about a private detective, by the name of Arnie Bronze, who was hot on the tale of a missing woman called Lucy Roberts who had vanished in mysterious circumstances.

You skipped on a few pages, the narrative shifted to that of focussing on the so called killer, a man named Riley, and you realised that Lucy wasn’t dead as anticipated, she was being held captive. 

In Riley’s basement.

You felt your stomach clench as you focussed in on a small snippet of dialogue, one that was extremely familiar.

 ‘I like this,’ Riley toyed with the straps to the bra Lucy was wearing, his middle finger tracing the outline of the strap against her skin before his lips followed the same path.

‘You should, you chose it,’ her voice was quiet, but still there it was, that unmistakable undercurrent of disdain she carried for him visibly present, as always.

Riley merely chuckled, ‘like I chose you, huh.’ At that, she blinked and looked at him, and he flashed her a smile. Oh, if only she understood exactly why…

What. The. Fuck?

Was he writing about you? Or had he already written this and was merely acting out his sick fucking fantasy. The answer to that became apparent when you tossed the manuscript down and reached for his book of notes.

It was littered with note after note, graphic accounts of the things he’d done to you, along with little questions and observations, how he could turn that into passages for his book. Your breath began to quicken and you turned the pages faster and faster, not needing to read his notes in the slightest as you could remember every sordid little detail for yourself.

Eventually you found the last page. This one contained two simple lines, the first from the night of Harlan’s memorial when he’d arrived home completely soaked.

Memorial was a shit show, as anything is when the fucking Thrombey’s are involved. Y/N made hot chocolate. Held a conversation I actually enjoyed.

This contained no side note as to how this could be used within his book, almost as if it was simply a journal entry, but you didn’t really have time to dwell on that, as your eyes flicked to the line underneath which carried no date.

Original plan changed, no longer going to get rid of when purpose served. Storyline of book will diverge at this point.

'When purpose served'. Well, it didn’t take a genius to work that out.

You threw the book down onto the desk, the room swimming around you as both your hands covered your mouth in shock and horror. You were sick to your stomach, the bile acid in your stomach turning acrid, and you wanted to wretch. 

He’d meant to kill you.

“So, do you like my gift?”

The voice made you scream and you jumped, turning to face the doorway where Ransom was stood, his sweats hung low on his hips, arms folded over his bare chest as he leaned against the frame.

“What?” you blinked, swallowing, the word nothing more than a trembling whisper. “You mean you wanted me to find this?”

“You asked me about being my muse.” He shrugged. “As you can see, you were much more than that. Happy Valentine’s Day, Sweetheart.”

You couldn't hold back the gag in your throat and you quickly turned into the waste bin by the desk, spewing your empty stomach into it. The bile burned your throat as it came up. With a shaky back of your hand, you wiped away the remnants of your episode and leaned forward on the desk, your free hand palm flat against the mahogany.

You were disgusted, that much was painfully true, but you were now terribly afraid for your life. A feeling that hadn't come over you in four months. You felt just as you had that very night, terrified, alone, and fighting a sense of chill that crept through your body and deep into your bones. Your eyes, big and brimming with tears looked up at him and your mind went numb in processing the situation. No quicker than you had just vomited, you felt a pang of hurt, your heart ripping from your chest as everything settled within you. You had accepted this, this fate that had been laid out for you. You were accepting him and the life you were being forced to live. You accepted the beast that had begun to care. But he was merely a wolf in sheep's clothing, the true monster you'd always known to lie in wait just under the surface. 

Your brows creased and your heart raced. You felt the bubbling of a scream start deep in your churning belly, your own monster vying to climb its up your chest and out of your throat. You were angrily screaming on the inside long before your voice sounded to the outside, piercing the room in a shattering, blood-curdling banshee cry of anger. 

“This…” you picked up the notebook in your right hand, throwing it at him violently, “this is the reason you took me?”

“Yes.” He didn't even dodge the thickly bound object as it hit him square in the chest before falling to the ground. 

“You...fucking asshole.” You spat, angrily swiping your arm across the desk. The neatly stacked piles of papers scattered like leaves falling from a tree as they fluttered to the floor. “And to think, I actually started to believe myself that there was more to you than everyone said, that underneath all of that bravado and narcissistic, downright nasty bastard exterior there was something or someone that maybe, just maybe was worthy of caring for! ” Your voice was loud, echoing off the wall of his study as you screamed at him. “But you kidnapped and raped and hurt me in ways I never thought possible for what? So you could write a goddamned book?”

Hot tears coursed down your face as you trembled, staring back at the utter monster who stood before you, his face stony as you wiped at your eyes with the back of your hand. “And then you planned to kill me once I no longer served a purpose? Well, tell me, how long have I got?”

“It’s not like that anymore.” Ransom took a deep breath as he stepped forward. He was calm, too calm and instantly you took a step back. “That was my initial plan, yeah, but what I wasn’t banking on was how being around you would make me feel.” He swallowed as he licked his lips. “I couldn’t get rid of you like I originally planned once you served your purpose. Because I love you.” Your mouth dropped open at his confession, utter horror coursing through your veins as you realised what he was saying. The chances of you getting out of this were depleting by the second. He really was completely fucked in the head. “No, no you don’t!” You shook your head, “this...is not love, Ransom, this is obsession, it’s...” He cut you off as he surged forward, his lips pressing to yours. You placed your hands on his chest, shoving hard as you turned your face away, screaming loudly at him to leave you alone. In an easy movement he spun you round, his arms clamping around yours pulling them behind you as he held you in place, your back pressed to his chest as he pressed his lips to your neck. “I know deep down you love me too...” his breath was hot on your neck, voice still eerily calm as his hips pushed forward and you could feel his erection digging into the curve of your spine. “Fuck, this is what you’ve done to me, feel that, Sweetheart? You wrecked me, and now I need you. It’s that simple.” At that he pushed you forward, harshly bending you over his desk, one large hand securing both of yours being your back, your body twisted in a warped recreation of that time he’d used your sweater to restrain you all those months ago. You struggled but he simply twisted your arm further, causing you to cry out in pain and desperation as his other hand roughly hoisted up your night-dress. “You’ll say it eventually.” He stated calmly as you heard that tell-tale rustle of fabric as he pushed down his sweats. “It might take another spell in the basement to make you realise, but you’ll come round.” “It doesn’t work like that.” You sobbed, your voice cracking as his hand let go of your arms and slid up to your neck, reaching round your throat. His fingers curled round your neck as he pulled your head back, his mouth nipping at your neck before he pulled back, his face inches from yours as his icy blues stared locked onto your eyes. They were cold, dangerous and you shook your head, tears pouring down your face.  Your lip trembled as you closer your eyes, taking a deep breath before you opened them again, resigning yourself to the fact that this next line might just seal your fate and wind up with you losing your life. But right now, that would be a blessed way out.  “I can’t love you simply because that’s what you want.” “Oh Sweetheart,” he chuckled, his lips ghosting over yours, “I know that. I know I can’t force you to feel something you don’t, but the only person you’re fooling is yourself. I just want you to admit it.”

“I won’t.” You stuttered, “never, Ransom.”

“Oh, Y/N. Haven’t you learned by now? I always get what I want, including this, you’ll see.” With a harsh thrust forward he pushed inside you, making you scream at the burn thanks to the fact you weren’t ready for him, at all. He gave a groan as he grabbed at your hips, your pelvis jolting painfully into the edge of the hard wooden desk you were bent over. “As my granddad used to quote,” he pulled back before delivering another deep thrust harshly into you, his fingers digging into your flesh as you closed your eyes, scrunching them shut as your cheek rest against the desk, tears leaking from your eyes, “we all become stories in the end.” 

He gave another deep rut forward as he ground into you, his breathing deep.

“Now it’s time to rewrite ours, Princess.”

*****

Epilogue

[supernaturalgirl20]

Prompt list #2

8. “I’ll take care of you.”

Prompt list # 1

6.Have you been taking care of yourself?”

For either Marcus or Pero. Please and thank you. So excited to read what comes out or your beautiful head. 😊💖🥰💕

Thank you for the prompts my dear I hope you enjoy 🥰 I went with Pero on this one. Love some soft (grumpy) Spaniard 😍

Warnings: fluff, small bit of angst, little bit of angry Pero, mention of sickness, poverty, mention of sex.

Pero has been gone longer than expected and your worried. What if something has happened to him. You would never know. When you married the grumpy Spaniard a year ago, you had asked him to stop selling his sword, that you wanted him home safe, wanted to start a family with him. Pero being the stubborn man that he is, agreed, but only if he could join William one last time. You we’re not happy but you compromised. He promised he would return before winter set in, that he would breed you, keep you in his bed until you were carrying his babe. Promises are worse than lies, that’s what your grandmother once said. You promise things to people, give them hope, when you know you may not be able to do it.

***

Winter was hard to prepare for, especially when you were alone. You had to ensure you had enough food to last in case you could not make it to the village, the animals needed extra care and the house had to be prepared to withstand any harsh winter conditions. You had most done, all that was left was to gather enough food supplies to see you through, making sure to get extra in case Pero returned. Although you we’re losing hope little by little each day that passed without him.

***

Going to the village was burden and a treat. A burden because of the long journey on foot, carrying heavy baskets, but also a treat as you got to catch up with some locals, who we’re always so friendly. You began to feel a chill in your bones, a pain behind your eyes. You knew it was the flu, having been outside in the wet and windy weather without the proper clothing. Something Pero would chastise you for if he were here. I must grab some medicine while I’m here. Your last stop was to Mrs. Smith the baker, she would always throw in some extra bread for you, she was a sweet old women.

“Y/N my child, come come you must sit please, you do not look well. Are you ok?”

“I’m ok it is just a cold or the winter flu, but thank you for your concern, I will take the usual if that is ok.”

“Where is that husband of yours to look after you? It is not right for a man to leave his wife for so long.”

“He should be home any day now.”

She gives you a look as if to say ‘do you even believe that’.

“Here take this tea home with you, it is my special blend, it will help.”

“Thank you so much your very kind.”

“Nonsense my dear, now you must make haste before night falls. I have given you some extra bits to see you through.”

“Thank you.”

You walk out into the street saying your final goodbye. The journey home was long and hard, the baskets weighing heavier thank usual. Making it home just before dark you prepare the drink that Mrs. Smith gave you. It tasted vile but if it helps you will bear it.

***

Sleep did not come, you were up all night coughing and with a fever. By morning you could barely move, your whole body ached. You dressed, unwillingly, but you had one more trip to make into town. How you longed for Pero to be home right now. You left early and were gone all day. You passed Mrs. Smith and she barely let you leave then village.

“Dios mio, my dear you can not walk home like this. You look like death.”

You laugh, well try to,through the coughing.

“I’m ok I promise, I’m heading home now and I promise I will rest.” She offered for you to use her horse and cart, but you politely refused, having never taken Pero up on his riding lessons. You struggled home, as you came over the slight hill, your home just beyond it, you began to feel dizzy. Swaying your vision beginning to go, you collapse on the road, baskets falling on you. You do not know how long you’ve been on the ground, coming in and out of consciousness, you think you hear the distant sound of a horse. A figure looks over you, this must be death.

“Mi esposa? Mi amor please wake up, wake up. No….no you canno be dead. Por qué la dejé?”

Everything is dark, your head feels heavy, but your body feels weightless, like your flying.

***

You wake startled to find you are in your home, in bed to be exact. How did I get here? You here a clatter in the kitchen and some muffled curses. Trying to get out of bed to see who is in your home, the door bursts open and you finally see him. It’s been too long and yet like he never left.

“Hermosa! What are you doing out of bed, you need to rest.”

He lifts you up and gently places you back in bed. He pushes some hair from your face, and he is staring at you with a strange look on his face.

“Have you been taking care of yourself?”

“I have yes, it have been hard I won’t lie but..”

He puts a hand up indicating that he was not finished. “Clearly not, if I arrive home only to find my wife nearly dead on the road. You should not have been out in that weather, especially when you are no well!” You pull the covers over you, Pero has never been this angry before, not with you.

“I canno believe you were so reckless, I don’t know what I would do if you were gone.”

The anger in him dissipates and he moves towards you slowly, gently lifting your chin so you are looking directly at him.

“I am sorry mi esposa…kiss….mi vida…kiss….mi amor. I was just worried. I am home now I’ll take care of you.”

“Pero you should not be kissing me, you could get sick also.”

“Hmm I will kiss my wife if I want. I am built of strong stuff do not worry.”

He leans in to kiss you again, the warmth of him consuming you. You shiver slightly and he notices shedding himself of his armour, and with nothing on he slides in behind you pulling you close.

“I will keep you warm mi amor, and when you are over this we will start on that family no?”

It was good to have Pero home.

Tagging

@lunaserenade @day-off-inkyoto @asta-lily @anaaaispunk @librariantothejedi @maievdenoir @elinedjarin @kirsteng42 @loserrlauraa @dihra-vesa @seasonschange-butpeopledont @pascal-rascal424 @ikinmahlen @janelongxox @almaeunice @javierpinme @thorins-queen-of-erebor @dindjarinneedsahug @jediknight122 @stevie75

[andilovetowrite]

Punch To The Heart (Part 3)

Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: After repeatedly blowing you off on plans, events and trips, you have finally had enough. But Peter soon regrets it as he sees the harsh reality of almost losing his best friend.

Based on a request, you can find it here!

Warnings: Shooting and violence. But nothing too graphic. Some angst and crying, but also a lot of fluff :)

Here is my Masterlist in case you want to find more of my work :)

Part 1

Part 2

We’ve got he--r

Stay with us Y/nnnn

Come on, try anythin--

Oh, thank go-

Words swam in and out of your head, floating in front of you and into your ears. Voices shouted from either side of you at some point. You could feel yourself slipping into some type of unconsciousness, with bright white light shining through your eyelids. You could hear Peter’s voice mix in with your parent’s voices. You could hear May’s voice, and through some type of veil, you could listen to Uncle Ben’s voice as well. Sure that you were hallucinating, you tried to open your eyes but blacked out before you could try….

You regained your consciousness at some point, your brain making sense that you could not move your body. Which meant you were unable to roll your eyes. But you could feel things. The blinding sorts of pain in your stomach and right thigh. The rough material of some type of gauze covering your entire lower body. Your back bare, with your front covered in a flimsy cloth. And for a quick moment, you thought you were back in the van, with kidnappers and terrorists. And the thought alone made you pass out again…

The last time that you woke up, you were hit with a multitude of sounds and noises. Carts being pushed, metal creaking, glasses clinking. You could hear voices as well. The soft drawl of some lady next to you, one that you vaguely remember. A comforting voice, one that you were familiar with because she woke you up in the mornings. Your mom. Another deeper voice was trying to calm her down—your dad. A worried, yet the firm say that you knew since you went to her house every other day. Aunt May.

But one specific voice was loud and clear to you. High, slightly cracked, chocked up. A voice that you could recognise even if you were half dead. A voice that you grew up with, a voice that was by your side for years. A voice that now seemed to be crying softly from the other side of the room.

So with whatever energy you had left in you, you opened your eyes and whispered. “Peter”

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

“Peter”, Peter said, shocked, staring at your body. “Did she just say, Peter?”

The doctor nodded, putting his hand on his shoulder. “Yes, she did, I believe. Are you her boyfriend? Or a family member?”

Peter shook his head, still staring dumbfounded at you. “I’m her best friend.”

The doctor sighed. “Alright, well, here is what we know so far-”

“Wait, shouldn’t Mr and Ms Y/L/N be here? To get an update on their daughter?“Peter interrupted, trying to see where they were. The doctor sighed again.

“They had to go to a business meeting and told me that a lady named May Parker would be her guardian until they return in a couple of weeks.”

Peter’s mouth flew open. “They left her?”

The doctor nodded, looking at you sadly. “Yes, they did, but I will send them daily updates about how she is doing.”

Peter licked his dry lips, suddenly realising how parched his throat was. “Here, drink some water, and I’ll tell you how she is.” Peter took the plastic cup from him, drinking it down.

“So first of all, she is getting better. Our team of doctors had predicted that she would likely be in a coma for the next few days, but she has regained consciousness, and her fluids are good. Her internal organs are getting stronger, and hopefully, if all goes well, she should wake up for good in the next day or two.”

The doctor read his papers, nodding politely at Peter, who was visibly calmer. The doctor looked at his watch, tutting softly. “It’s late. I would advise you to go home. Get a couple of hours of sleep. You can come back in the afternoon.”

Peter looked out, confused when he saw the starting rays of sunshine come in through the window. He was so tired that he didn’t realise that he had been in the hospital for 9 hours. Peter looked at you, weighing his options. As if the doctor could sense what was going on in his head, he patted Peter’s back. “Visiting hours have been over since 3 am. But it opens up again at 11. Go and rest for a bit. It’ll do you good.” Peter averted his eyes to you again before he nodded, kissing your cold forehead lightly before he walked out, hoping to get some sleep or rest.

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

He didn’t get any sleep. Usually, if he couldn’t, he would call you or swing over to your house. Well, not usually. Ever since he started dating MJ, he wouldn’t even go to your home. And MJ never let him come over in the night, too paranoid that her parents would find Peter. Oh, and forget about patching him up after patrol. She would get sick at the sight of Peter’s bruises and injuries. One time, he even had to swing to the compound because he had been shot.

None of that would have happened if he had just been a good friend. Been a good best friend. If only he had not fought with you that day, not ignored you, then you wouldn’t be in the hospital with pipes going in and out of you.

Peter couldn’t shake his fear and paranoia, creeping out of his bed quietly, to not wake up May. Slowly walking to the bathroom, he looked in the mirror. Bloodshot eyes stared back at him. He ran his fingers through his hair, wincing slightly. Tears slipped down his face, little by little as he tried to imagine how worried you might have been. Soon, he couldn’t see anything, as salty tears fell into the sink infront of him. “Oh god, Y/N”, he said, voice cracking. He dejectedly went back to his room, grabbing his suit. Instinctively, he pulled it on, opening his window slightly. Jumping out the window, he didn’t even know where he was going. Somehow, he ended up back at the hospital, looking into your window. It was open, letting in the warm air into your room. He sighed, letting the mask fall off his face. He let the wind go through his curls, feeling it dry the lines of water on his face. Suddenly, he heard some noise from your window. Looking closer, he saw your eyes flicker open, and your voice walf over to him.

“You can come in, you know? Everybody has gone to sleep…”, you said, your voice cracked and scratchy from not using it. Peter just stood still for a couple seconds, too shocked to move.

You were alive! And speaking to him…

Jumping in, he landed softly, not wanting to cause a scene. “He-hey”, Peter said, stuttering. You smiled at him, tiredness showing on your features.

“Hey Peter, are you okay?”, you asked, eyes going over his own, how disheveled he looked.

“You-I, I’m not the biggest thing you should worry about Y/N! You-you were shot. Twice. How-I don’t-wha-”

You reached out to him, wincing as you moved your arm. Peter noticed this, running over to you. “Don’t-don’t do that, you can hurt yourself”, he said, worry evident in his eyes.

You sighed, sitting back. “Pete, why don’t you change out of the suit. I don’t want nurses to walk by and see Spiderman in my room… especially if you don’t have a mask.”

Peter nodded, pressing the small button on his suit that made it shrink up, revealing his clothes underneath. Peter didn’t say anything, but walked over to you, hands in his pockets.

“How are you feeling?”, Peter asked, sitting down gingerly at the side of your bed. You shrugged, not knowing what to say. A few minutes passes, the silence becoming suffocating. Almost simultaneously, you both said.

“I’m sorry”

“I’m sorry”

Looking at Peter, you saw him staring at you indercously.

“Why are you sorry?”

“Why are you sorry?”

Again, you both shut your mouths, and as easily as you could, you gestured to Peter to say something. “Why-why are you sorry? I’m the one who put you in danger Y/N! Yo-you could’ve died.”Peter rambled, eyes starting to glisten as he looked at your body, how those men had hurt you. “I-if I had just not fought with you, then you wouldn’t have walked out of the school, and I wouldn’t have had to give you the bag, and then they wouldn’t have targetted you. Y/N, I’m the reason you are in the hospital. I can’t-yo-you got so badly hurt, I can-no” By this time, the dam inside Peter had broken, as tears started streaming down his face.

You could feel your own throat start to close up, so you did the only thing you could think of. You opened your arms up, letting Peter crawl in. He kept his weight off you, so not to hurt you even more. You ran your fingers up and down his back, calming him down.

“It’s alright, Peter. I would have them rather come for me than yo-”

“No”, Peter said firmly, trying to mask the crack in his voice. “Don’t say that. You are far more important than me, you can’t even wish that Y/N”

You smiled sadly. “Peter, the world needs Spiderman. They don’t need me…”

“No no no”, Peter said, making you look at him. “So many people need you Y/N”

“No, they don’t, Pete. My parents don’t care. I mean, they aren’t here, are they? What is it this time? A business trip?”

Peter tried to object, but he knew that you wouldn’t believe him. “I-I need yo-”

“And don’t say that you need me, because you had no problem spending time with M-”

“I broke up with her”, Peter said hurriedly, wanting to get it out as soon as possible.

You nodded, feeling guilty as a small part of you rejoiced. “Good for you”, you said, emotionless. An awkward silence enveloped the air around you two again, but this time, it became too much. Out of nowhere, you started crying, choked hiccups and sobs coming from your throat.

“Y/N!”, Peter said, smoothening your hair.

“I-I’m sorry. I was just so sc-scared and I was sure I was going to die, and I just can’t do-” You said, hugging yourself softly, as you looked at him through blurry eyes. And you didn’t have to say anything before Peter hugged you closer, the last thing you saw was his brown irises before you dropped to sleep…

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

Dr Lee walked around the hall, looking at the different rooms before he reached Y/N Y/L/N’s room, and he had to clean his glasses twice to see what he think he saw. Hugging you, with your legs intertwined, was Peter. Your face snuggled into his chest, his arms were looped around you, holding you close. What was the most astonishing thing was how even your breathing and charts were. No patient who had ever gotten shot would’ve recovered so quick, but he could see something was different.

Carefully opening the door, he quietly watched as Peter stirred, eyes flickering open as he drowsily smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead before falling back asleep.

Dr Lee sighed, smiling at them. “Oh, they are obviously in love….”

Ooh, I really liked this part! Anyway, thank you for reading this, and the next (and last) part will be out later this week, possibly on Friday or Saturday. If you want to be tagged in the next part of the following fics, please just respond to this one telling me that. Until next time👋👋

Tagged: @a--1--1--3 @idkatee @eternalscribblesforthesoul @loudbluepancake @poisondevotion @scram1326 @t-hollanderr @305weasley @starknik22 @marvelfansworld @lou-la-lou @lomlparker @marvelfansworld @wowitsel @vanteguccir @fullcheesecakeengineer

[dirtyoatmeall]

Good for you

A/N: Wow sorry I've been gone!! I suddenly got back into reading and suddenly found myself in the middle of multiple series! anywayz, I finally listened to Olivia Rodrigo's new album so here is a songfic for good for u. I ended up going in a completely different direction than I had in mind. It's also long as fuck. I proof scanned it, but it's like 18 pages, as always sorry for the incorrect grammar, I do what I want. Call me Maybe will be getting one soon as well :)

Pairing: ex!Kageyama x reader, foreshadowed Atsumu x reader

Genre: angst? hurt/comfort? Its sad for pretty much most of it.

Word Count: 10.3k (im so sorry)

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol and drinking, implied adult themes, all characters are 21+ !!, detailed breakup. 16+ only por favor

Well, good for you, I guess you moved on really easily. You found a new girl and it only took a couple weeks.

Your phone chimed, alerting you of a new text, you reached for it on the side table, pausing the movie you were watching. It was a message from Shoyo and an image: ‘I’m sorry, I figured it’d be better if I told you instead of finding out on Twitter.’ Your brow pinched, what could that mean? You unlocked your phone to open the text.

The pinch deepens as you zoom in on the picture, eyes beginning to prickle with tears. It was a photo- most likely taken by a fan or paparazzi- of Tobio, your boy-, ex-boyfriend. He was with a woman, she seemed slightly familiar, probably a model or something along those lines. Your face heated and shame burned in your chest, the embrace they were in looked so intimate; private, that it seemed wrong to look. You deleted the image and left Shoyo on read for now; you’d reply when you’re in a better headspace.

It had only been a couple of weeks and he had already moved on, meanwhile, you were just starting to not cry at the little reminders of him scattered about your apartment. He hadn’t even come to get his stuff. You sniffle and walk over to the wall to your left; the picture wall- and gently take one of the photos off, smiling faintly at the memory it brings to the surface.

Remember when you said that you wanted to give me the world?

The sun filtered through the blinds, casting a soft glow around the room. Groaning, you squint at the brightness before rolling over. Your eyes find blue ones, startling you slightly. He chuckles softly, voice deep and gravelly with sleep; sending heat through your body. “you’re so jumpy in the morning.” he whispered in the otherwise empty apartment.

You roll your eyes and let him pull you into his chest, listening to his heartbeat and his fingers traced lazy shapes into your hip. “Shut up, you know it takes me a day or two to adjust after you’ve been gone.”

You meant for the words to be light; not expecting the emotion you heard behind them. He sighs, arm winding tighter around your waist as he kisses the top of your head. You bring your head up to meet his gaze and shift in his arms, frown tugging on your lips. “’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin the mood.”

He sighs again, shaking his head softly. “You don’t have to apologize for anything, I should, for never being home, missing holidays and-“ You put a hand against his lips silencing him, brows drawn tightly together.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for either. I knew what I was getting into when we got together, it didn’t bother me in school and it doesn’t bother me now. I’d much rather you live out your dream than being stuck here with me all the time.” You feel his mouth open to object, but your hand stays firm. “I’m serious Tobio, I mean every word.” He nods against your hand and you release him. You flush slightly at the open emotion in his gaze. He pulls you into a kiss, murmuring against your lips. “I don’t know how I got so lucky with you, I promise I’m gonna give you the world.”

And good for you, I guess that you've been workin' on yourself. I guess that therapist I found for you, she really helped

A few days later you meet Shoyo for lunch, a new onigiri place where he apparently knows the owner. He sighs as he sets down his menu, your eyes snapping back your own, pretending like you’ve been mulling it over this whole time. “Alright, go ahead and ask.”

You look up from your menu, feigning innocence. “Hm? Sorry I wasn’t paying attention.” He rolls his eyes and raises an eyebrow. You hold his gaze for a few moments before your shoulders sag in defeat. Your eyes fall to the table as you pick at the corner of the laminated menu. He gives you a minute to collect your thoughts before he places his hand atop yours, a sad smile gracing his features.

“(Y/N), it’s normal to want to know how he’s doing.” You chew your lip and mumble, “Well he’s obviously doing good since he already moved on.”

He continues as if you hadn’t spoken. “He started going to that therapist you recommended a day or so after,” he pauses, trying to gauge where your mind is. You’re meeting his gaze, and he can see you got what he was implying so he continued. “He’s been going consistently; says it’s really helped him.” You nod, blocking out his next words; too busy thinking about how you’re going to find a new therapist.

Now you can be a better man for your brand new girl

As you eat, you think over his words. You swallow and take a deep breath, trying to instil confidence in yourself. “Are they… good together?” Your voice comes out softer than intended and you inwardly cringe. He smiles faintly and nods. “They are.” You nod in understanding and turn your focus back to your meal.

Well, good for you. You look happy and healthy, not me-If you ever cared to ask

You knew it was inevitable, your apartments aren’t that far apart, you just wished it wasn’t so soon.

You were grocery shopping for the week, trying to figure out how many oranges to get before settling on 4 with a sigh, you toss them into your cart, turning around to see blue eyes at the other end.

You inhale sharply, your gazes met and he was too close for you to run away, leaving only one option. You were suddenly glad you met Shoyo for breakfast this morning, you were dressed up a bit, but you weren’t so glad when you became queasy. He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped, letting it fall shut. You feel your face flush with heat and you duck your head, mumbling a soft “sorry!” and move to continue down the aisle, hoping he’d let you go.

Those hopes were crushed with the hand that gently captured your elbow, halting your escape as he turned you to face him. You were silent for a moment before he realized he was still gripping your elbow, dropping his hand to his side. You crossed your arms around your middle, trying to look- be smaller, small enough to get away. Though the rational side of you knew it wouldn’t happen, that you’ve known each other too long to simply stop. So you raised your gaze, uncurling your arms and bringing your shoulders back to at least look the part of an old friend caught by surprise, smiling as you spoke.

“Oh, Kageyama! I didn’t see you there, how are you?” He cringed ever so slightly at the use of his last name, filling you with a sick sense of pride that weighed uncomfortably in your chest. He opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by a brunette coming up to him, not noticing you as she surveyed the list in her hand.

“Babe, did you find the oranges? Oh, remind me to pick up my birth control at the phar-“ Her eyes widened as she noticed you; cheeks flushing slightly in embarrassment. Unfazed, Kageyama snorted softly, wrapping an arm around her waist before turning back to you. “This is Yumi, babe, this is (Y-) uh, (L/N).” You smiled and waved, which she mirrored, going to speak but instead was interrupted by you, who had decided to spare all of you of the awkwardness of prolonging the conversation. “It’s nice meeting you Yumi, and it was nice seeing you Kageyama, but I gotta run.”

They nodded and waved in farewell as you continued down the aisle, letting out a deep breath before heading into the next aisle. You needed more alcohol.

Good for you. You're doin' great out there without me, baby. God, I wish that I could do that.

You saw them a few more times during your shopping trip. You had wanted to leave right away, but you had been putting off groceries for too long, and leaving your cabinets and fridge almost barren. Thankfully they were always far enough where if you accidentally made eye contact a smile in passing was warranted enough.

As you contemplated between mini pizzas or a large pizza, you heard a loud giggle from further down the aisle. Your head turned towards the noise instinctively and you saw them at the end, near the ice cream, which you hoped they moved soon because that was next on your list. They were laughing, her arms around his waist as she looked up at him, he had an arm around her, resting on her hip as he met her gaze and you felt your chest tighten and an emotion you definitely did not want to name and wanted to shove down, down far enough to forget it. They looked the part of smitten lovers, and you decided you didn’t need ice cream all that bad and grabbed the mini pizzas before heading to checkout, continuing to ignore the emotion swelling, weighing down your chest and moving up to your throat.

I've lost my mind, I've spent the night cryin' on the floor of my bathroom

You took a deep, shuddering breath that broke halfway into a gasping sob. The emotion was suffocating, burning in the back of your throat and pulsing against your skull as you hugged your knees to your chest, the cold press of the tub against your back doing nothing. You tried to take a breath again but your chest was too tight, it was constricting your lungs, pushing hot tears down your cheeks and pulsing harder as with the ringing in your ears.

You could faintly comprehend the door to the bathroom opening, but didn’t look up as someone wrapped their arms around you, pulling you to them; the feel of fabric twisting in your grasp somewhat grounding as they smoothed down your hair, their words muffled under the ringing. You couldn’t think about the tears and who knows what else dampened their shirt, couldn’t think of anything except the emotion weighing so heavy in your chest you were positive it was going to break your ribs, break through you and continue down, down, deep underground.

You have no clue how long you were there with them, not even sure how long before they arrived. They shifted their arms to pick you up, and you let them, not even moving your hands from their place on the shirt, you were sure they were glued there, the tears acting as an adhesive. Sobs still racked your frame as you were set down, tucked under the covers of your bed before the person laid next to you, resuming their soothing touches as the weight in your chest slowly lightened, gradually releasing its grip on your lungs as the ringing quieted, allowing you to hear the slew of soothing words softly coming from the person next to you.

But as the emotion lessened its grip on you, tiredness swiftly replaced it, the pounding at your temples only encouraging the darkness to weigh you down, until it settled over you like a blanket, your fingers laxing enough for them to fall back to your side. Your breathing slowed, the occasional hiccup breaking the silence as you slept.

But you’re so unaffected, I really don’t get it, but I guess good for you

Shoyo let out a deep breath as he gently shut the door to your bedroom behind him, shoulders slumping with exhaustion when he heard the latch click. He dragged a hand down his face, combing his fingers through his hair as he went to your kitchen to finish putting away your groceries, throwing away what was defrosted before collapsing on your couch, pulling out his phone, debating whether or not to text the person likely responsible for your tears. Turns out he didn’t even have to, they had already called him and left a message about an hour ago, a little after Shoyo first got to your apartment. He brought the phone up to his ear as he pressed play.

“Hey, I ran into (Y/N) at the store today, you know I thought you might be right; that our friendship ended with the breakup, but it was like nothing had changed! She even met Yumi though Yumi didn’t notice at first and started talking about her birth control,” a laugh, “I don’t know why you were so worried, she seems perfectly fine. I was thinking about having a little get together in a few weeks, Yumi really wants to meet everyone from Karauno, you both should come! Oh one sec, what? Okay! Sorry, I gotta go, Bye.”

Shoyo slid down the couch slightly, groaning as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Really? He was glad you stocked up on alcohol at the store because after hearing that, he needed a drink.

Well, good for you, I guess you're gettin' everything you want. You bought a new car and your career's really takin' off.

Two weeks later you sat on your couch, eyes focused on the match televised. You tell yourself you’re watching the tournament to see who Shoyo will end up going against; if you can give them any pointers, though a part of you knows it’s a lie.

At the end of the match, the Adlers, no, To- Kageyama, had scored the winning point, securing a spot in the semi-finals. You lifted the remote to change the channel, but you froze as the camera zoomed in on the edge of the court, where you watched Yumi jump into his arms, he threw his head back laughing as he spun her around before kissing her. You could hear the commentators discussing the game after making a cheeky comment but you tuned it out. You watched them walk off the court, snapping out of the trace as soon as the camera cut to the other team. You quickly turned it off. Taking a deep breath in your silent apartment.

You were going through your Instagram feed when you came across a post from Tobio. It was him and Yumi in front of a new car, kissing. You noticed it had multiple pictures, and swiped through, all of them of the couple. The last one was the most recent, earlier today, in fact, you recognized the jersey of the other team in the background. You part of the caption, deciding to scroll past before scrolling back up to read the long paragraph that was pretty much a love letter to Yumi. You bit your lip and liked it, cursing afterwards, you didn’t want him to know you still followed him. You debated unfollowing but decided against it, it’d only look weirder if you had liked a post and weren’t following him. You couldn’t get his expression out of your head, he looked so happy.

It's like we never even happened. Baby, what the fuck is up with that?

Over the next few days you received multiple texts from Kageyama, updates on his family; that they were asking about you, wanting you to visit, an invitation to a small gathering they were having next week, Tsukishima, Yamaguchi and Yachi were in town and he wanted to introduce Yumi to everyone. And several attempts to start a conversation.

You replied to all of them, thanking him for the update, politely declining the invitation; using work as an excuse, and you halfheartedly tried to keep up with the conversations until it got to be too much. It was like nothing happened, like he hadn’t suddenly broken up with you, after almost 7 years together. There were times you wanted to remind him, but decided against it. You didn’t want to be the bitter ex, you wanted to move on, like he had.

And good for you, it's like you never even met me

You think Shoyo had a talk with him.

After it all became too much, the media, the texts, the times he tried to call you, you told Shoyo. He was furious, ignoring your pleas to just leave it be as he left your apartment.

Later that night he came back, less angry and with takeout. When you had asked where he went he just smiled and told you not to worry about it. You watched movies the rest of the night. When you awoke the next morning there were no texts from Kageyama, and nothing on social media. Your nosiness got the best of you and you looked him up, only to furrow your brow as the results came up blank. You checked the other social media you had each other on and couldn’t find him anywhere. You didn’t dare text him, just in case, but it was obvious- he had blocked you, on everything.

There was an emotion curling in your chest, but you couldn’t quite name it. You didn’t know how to feel about it, so you stayed in bed for a few more hours before migrating to the couch. Shoyo didn’t come over that night, and you hated that you were slightly relieved.

Remember when you swore to God I was the only person who ever got you?

You sighed, still slightly out of breath and damp with sweat, snuggling into the body next to you regardless, smile stretching your lips. He tightened his arm around your waist, petting your hair as he shifted onto his side, bringing you closer and tangling your legs together. You wrapped your arms around his neck loosely, softly kissing his throat, right below his adam's apple before resting your face against his collarbone. He shuddered and drew you impossibly closer. “I know I don’t say it as often as I should, but I love you (Y/N), so much. I swear sometimes I feel like you’re the only person in the world who understands me. Ugh, that sounded so cliché.” You snorted as he slightly shook with laughter. “I love you too Tobio.” You brought your head up for a tender kiss before the two of you settled into a peaceful slumber.

Well, screw that, and screw you. You will never have to hurt the way you know that I do

You awoke the following morning with a hollow ache in your chest, your eyes burned but nothing came. You don’t know if it was good that the tears never came, but the hollowness settled heavily in you, it seemed to be all around you, weighing down the air equally. You were on autopilot the whole day, not fully there.

You blinked at the chime from your phone and raised your brows at the time, and your eyes widened at the name in your notifications. You quickly opened the text and looked at the image 2,3,5 times. It was a selfie, only the top part of Yumi’s face was visible, she must’ve been taking it, having to have it out enough to get Kageyama and all of his family in the frame, everyone smiling brightly. The typing bubble popped up for a few seconds before it disappeared and was replaced by a small message. You read it over and over before biting your lower lip. This is when the tears would normally come, when they’d be expected and yet they didn't. The burn was there, the lump in your throat but nothing else except the hollow pulsed in your chest. You didn’t think that was a good sign.

From Tobio:

We miss you! The kids keep asking when you’re going to come to play again. We love you, and you’re always welcome to visit. -Miwa~

Well, good for you. You look happy and healthy, not me if you ever cared to ask

You decided not to tell Shoyo about the picture, after all, it was his sister who sent it. He sent an apology the next day and you quickly dismissed it, asking him to tell her thanks and to tell everyone hello for you and that you hoped they had a great trip.

He unblocked you later that day. You assumed it was because of your text, he probably thought everything was fine now, that little bump in the road passed and things were back to normal again. And you tried, you tried so hard to go back to the person you were before. Fake it ‘till you make it was something you lived by, and you certainly were doing a great job faking it, but the ache in your chest told you that you hadn’t made it yet.

Good for you, You're doin' great out there without me, baby

You always kept up with the volleyball news and media, now for just Shoyo, but it was impossible to not see Adlers updates, and as MSBY’s rival you felt you needed to keep up. They were a force to be reckoned with, win after win; tournament after tournament they were at the top, MSBY one of the few to keep up. You sent him a congratulatory text after his last win, if he didn’t want to leave your friendship then you’ll try your hardest not to either, even if it hurts.

God, I wish that I could do that

Well, that lasted about 2 weeks. It’d been about 2 months since Kageyama broke up with you. You texted occasionally, most of them short conversations. They used to be longer, but you knew that to really get over him, you couldn’t be his best friend like before, you had to distance yourself. Shoyo wanted you to block him, even if just for a few more months, so you can move on quicker, but you disagreed. Your lives were so intertwined it wasn’t possible to not see him or hear about him at least once a week, usually in the form of sports journalism.

You laughed at Tsukishima’s joke, choking on the margarita you were in the middle of drinking, causing the others to laugh at you. Everyone was miraculously in town this week and demanded that you all hang out all week. Yachi stayed at Hinata's apartment since he had a roommate, and Tsukishima and Yamaguchi stayed at yours, though everyone decided to congregate at your apartment, the former two falling asleep on your couch and after the third night in a row, you convinced them to just stay. Hinata packed a bag and slept on your futon, Yachi slept in your bed with you, and the last two shared your guest bedroom.

While they all swore it was a mere coincidence everyone was in town, you had a strong theory that Hinata invited everyone down to stay with you, since in 3 days was what would’ve been your 7 year anniversary with Kageyama. They did their best to keep you distracted, going out to clubs, having movie marathons and game nights that lasted until dawn. You were filled with immense gratitude for that, and you made sure to let them know it. You were glad your little group was able to stick together, even if the shadow of the empty seat at the table grows with each passing day.

I've lost my mind, I've spent the night cryin' on the floor of my bathroom

You almost made it. Everyone stayed in today, keeping a careful eye on you all morning, until you got a call from your mother. Your parents lived in the countryside, they didn’t have great reception out there, even if they did they’d keep the single landline they have now. They called every so often, for holidays or updates on health and family members. The last time you talked to them was about 6 months ago. You head into your bedroom before you answer, a little worried about what might be going on, you knew your father’s health was declining, could something have happened? You took a deep breath and accepted the call, bringing your phone to your ear. “Hello? Mom?”

It takes a second before she replies, probably trying to get your father to stand next to her. “(Y/N) sweetie, sorry it’s been so long, it’s been busy down here and since your father can’t do a whole lot anymore, it’s been taking longer to keep the farm in shape.” You can hear your father grumble something in the background and you can imagine your mother rolling her eyes.

“Nevermind that! We were calling to congratulate you and Tobio on your anniversary, that’s today right? 7 years, I hope you know how lucky you are dear, these days relationships just aren’t lasting like they used to, but I’ve always known you two would stick through, I still do. Hopefully one of these days I’ll get a call about a ring? Or maybe some grandbabies?” She giggled on the other end, going on to talk about her and your father’s relationship, not paying attention to if you’ve replied or not, and you haven’t, you’re- you’re- you jolt out of whatever trance you were in to find yourself on your bathroom floor, back against the tub, your mother still chattering away in your ear, though you can’t hear her.

She’s right. Today is- would’ve, been 7 years. A flurry of emotions roars to life in your chest and you feel the familiar burning and grip start to take hold. You clear your throat, interrupting her story.

“Uh mom, me and Tobio aren’t together anymore. I’m sorry, I meant to call earlier, but there’s a lot going on. I actually have to go, I promise I’ll call later okay? I might be able to get away from work in a few weeks to visit. Love you.”

You ended the call, guilt joining the mix, you had completely forgotten to tell your mother, her words stirring the pot of emotions and memories in your gut as they rose into your chest, filling your lungs, spilling into your throat into your nasal cavity, behind your eyes and into your skull. You slackened your hold on your phone, and it tumbled onto the tile. You choked against the burning in your throat, pressing your palms into your eyes, trying- uselessly- to stop the slideshow of memories.

He had been your best friend, your longest crush, your first- well, everything. You truly thought you would be spending the rest of your life with him, travelling the world as he plays volleyball, eventually settling down and buying a house somewhere, anywhere. Marriage, a cat, maybe a dog, and kids. You never once thought the father of your future children would be anyone but Kageyama Tobio. Apparently, he thought differently. Against your will, the night he ended everything played back in your vision.

You heard the door close as you finished up dinner, a smile stretching wide on your face as you imagined his reaction. You spent the week learning how to make this dish, an old family recipe from his grandmother that he apparently adored and ate every time he visited home without fail. After years of watching her make it, you’d think you would have a good idea of how but you were naïve to think so. You finish plating the dishes and setting up the table, brows pinched in confusion, he hadn’t come to greet you yet, which he always does. You shrug it off, he might’ve had a tiring practice, hopefully the food makes up for it.

You pad down the hallway, thinking he jumped straight in the shower. You stop in the doorway of your shared bedroom; He was sitting on the edge of the bed, head in his hands as his elbows dig into his knees. Worry and confusion rose; what was wrong? Was practice that bad? You don’t try to mask your steps towards him, though he flinches all the same when you lay a hand on his shoulder, quickly withdrawing it. You sink to your knees in front of him, gingerly holding his wrists as you speak softly.

“Hey babe, what’s wrong? Did you have a bad practice? Why don’t you tell me about it over dinner, I got everything at the table.” He sighed deeply, sagging further, like the weight of the world weighed down on him. Your concern grew and you squeezed his wrists in a silent question. He took a deep breath and sat up, you let your hands fall away but he caught them, cradling them in his grasp, pity and guilt swirling in his glassy gaze as it met yours.

You sat up on your knees, why in the world would he look at you like that? “Tobio? What’s wrong, baby you have to tell me so I can help, you gotta let me in.” You were pleading at this point. He so rarely showed this much sadness, you were sick with worry, mind going to the worst-case scenario. He squeezes your hands, bringing them up to his lips. He keeps them there for a moment, his eyes shut, brow drawn tight.

He brings them back down to his lap and lets out another sigh, meeting your gaze again. You can see the conflict on his features bright as day. “(Y/N), I’ve been so lucky to have you in my life, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to pay back what you’ve given me. I’m truly, truly grateful and you've been one of my longest friends, one of my best friends. Which is why- why-“

He lets out a shuddering breath gaze dropping, tightening his grip around your hands. Your brow is pinched deeply, eyes searching his features for any sign of what could be going on. He takes a breath, trying to calm himself before continuing, and when he meets your gaze you no longer see the guilt, you see a wall you worked so hard to bring down. You open your mouth to speak, but he cuts you off. “You are one of the most important people in my life, which is why I have to do this. I can’t keep doing this, prolonging the inevitable only makes it more painful and the last thing I want to do is hurt you. But, (Y/N) I can't keep this up any longer, I thought- I thought it might pass, if I kept going along, pretending like everything is fine, when it’s not.” Your heart drops, no, it can’t be, what does he mean?.

“Everything is fine Tobio, what are you talking about? What are you saying, I-I don’t understand.” The emotion thickens your voice and his face falls as he sees the tears gather in your eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I loved you so, so much. I promise, I loved you more than anything, so much it hurt.” The tears are escaping both your eyes. You want to get out of his grasp but his hands only tighten around yours, like a lifeline. You suppress a sob bubbling up to speak, the world tumbling softly from your quivering lips. “Did?”

A hand touching your shoulder tears you from the memory. You’re aware of the hot tears streaming down your face, of the tight sobs wracking your frame, ripping from your throat against your will. You feel hollow, the ache grows and pulses until it’s all you feel, grief rising to meet it. You blink the tears away, to look around the room, you hadn’t recognized it right away, still disoriented from the memory. You see your friends, concern and in some cases, anger, in their gaze as they hover. You were surprised to find Tsukishima was the one at your side, the one who had pulled you from the memory turned nightmare. Your lip wobbles and he pulls you into his arms, embracing you as you cry into his sweatshirt, much like you had to Hinata weeks ago.

You’re vaguely aware of hushed voices around you, the rumble of Tsukishima’s voice oddly soothes you. You can hear Shoyo behind you, you think you hear him say your mother’s name, was she calling again? The thought slips from your mind as quickly as it came. You sat in your bathroom for who knows how long, crying in Tsukishima’s arms, surrounded by your friends.

But you're so unaffected, I really don't get it but I guess good for you

Later that night, when everyone has finally passed out, you slip through your apartment door, pulling your hood up as you head towards the street. You have your phone, keys and pepper spray. You just wanted- no, needed to get out of there, the slight chill in the air rousing you. You take in the surroundings, letting your feet take you wherever they please.

You sigh as you take in the park in front of you. You used to come here a lot, whenever you needed to clear your head. It was a space for you to be truly alone to work out your emotions. Which is exactly what you needed now. You smile faintly as you reminisce, not paying attention as you head to the swings, only to stop in your tracks, still hidden in the shade as you watch on. What the fuck.

The creak of the swings is drowned out by laughter, two people sit on the swings, legs pumping to go higher and higher. Her hair whips in the wind and she closes her eyes, leaning back for a moment. You watch him slow down, eventually stopping and getting up to approach her flying form. Right when she is about to pass him, he moves, grabbing her and the swing, halting them mid-swing. She squeals, which quickly melts into laughter as she lets go of the chains, wrapping her legs around his torso and her arms around his neck. Her smile is a sun in the night, love radiating from the couple as they kiss. You look away and spot an open picnic basket, a bottle of wine poking through on a blanket rumpled from use.

You leave as silently as you came.

Maybe I'm too emotional but your apathy's like a wound in salt

The hollow ache starts to burn as you walk back to your apartment. You didn’t expect him to be as affected tonight as you were but you thought he’d- what did you think he’d feel? Mourning? Grief? Sadness? Why would he? He was the one who broke it off, who ‘fell out of love’ or at least that’s what he said when he broke your heart. And to bring her there?

Maybe I'm too emotional Or maybe you never cared at all

You shared that spot with him a year after you moved in together, he knew its significance to you, to your relationship. How long had he been bringing her there? What did he tell her about it? Did he use the words you said to him all those years ago? You wondered if he even remembered what today was. He said he had loved you, but was he truthful? He promised quite a few things during your relationship that were broken when he admitted it, when he confessed ‘what had been eating him up inside.’

Maybe I'm too emotional but your apathy's like a wound in salt

The hollow was slowly filling, bitter, anger, loss, and more flooded the space as you recalled his words that night.

“I can’t do this anymore.” You had never felt more dread than in that moment.

“I loved you so, so much.” You had wished the past tense was a mistake, but you knew it wasn’t.

“I don’t know when it happened, if it was slowly or quickly.” You could tell it was a lie.

“I-I just realized I loved you in a different way than you loved me.” A cute way of saying he no longer loved you.

“I thought that if I just stuck with it, that it might change, that it was just a slump.” Another way to say ‘leading you on because I was too afraid to tell you the truth.’

“I tried, I tried so hard to love you the way you wanted me to.” For how long? How many years did he lead you on, how long did he let you think everything was ok?

“You deserve more than I can offer.” You knew that was true, you did deserve more. You deserved a lot more than this, than an offer.

Maybe I'm too emotional Or maybe you never cared at all

You were crying by the time you got to your apartment building, but it was different. You didn’t feel the aching hollow as strongly as before. You felt anger, bitterness about what he said, you had a million things you wanted to say to him, to make him know what he did. But didn’t he already know? He was there, he saw what his words did, he saw the aftermath, at the very least he heard about it. And yet the night after he was pictured entering a popular high-end club. It was on your Twitter feed that morning, effectively pouring salt and lemon into the hole in your heart. You had thought it then, and you’re thinking it now.

Well, good for you. You look happy and healthy, not me If you ever cared to ask

The next morning, no one brought up last night, and you were thankful for it. You think they could sense the shift, from the aching despair to the brittle anger. So you all lounged on the couch, playing Mario Kart to help you channel it.

You were on the fourth stage of Grief according to Yamaguchi, who brought it up the following day over breakfast. He explained: Denial- which was during the breakup and right after, Depression- which came to fruition after you ran into them at the store, Bargaining- When you tried to go back to how it was before, trying to keep the friendship alive so you’d still have him around, Anger- which was now, when you realize that you wasted years of your life for someone who didn’t even love you and now they want to go back to friends, after they immediately get into a new relationship. The next step would be the final- Acceptance, when you would finally accept he was gone, when you could finally move on.

Good for you

After that night the change became more obvious. You weren’t hiding anymore, you would hold your head high and snap others off if they trod down the wrong path. You felt the hot anger slowly cool over time, as you continued to go out, to clubs, bars, parties Shoyo always invites you to but you always decline. You met his teammates, finally after too long.

He had dinner for you and the team at his apartment that he shares with one of the said teammates. You dressed up a little, enough for Shoyo to whistle when you showed him over facetime as you finished getting ready. You weren’t planning on going anywhere except your apartment after; there was just something about knowing you look good that does wonders to the confidence. You grin widely as he complains about not wanting to deal with his teammates crushing on you. You end the call when you get into your car, you were going to stop by the store to get something and then head over, despite his assurances no one else was bringing anything.

You purse your lips in thought as you surveyed the wine selection in front of you, bending slightly to read the label of one on a lower shelf. You didn’t realize you were taking up the aisle until someone cleared their throat behind you. You paid the little mind, murmuring an apology as you stepped to the side. You felt their presence next to you, and after a minute of them burning a hole through you with their gaze you turned towards them, lips pursed in annoyance rather than thought.

You're doin' great out there without me, baby, like a damn sociopath

The wide eyes of Kageyama Tobio meet yours as you study him for a moment before smiling. “Kageyama! Sorry, I didn’t realize I was taking up the whole aisle, you know me; always so indecisive.”

Your joke seems to snap him out of whatever train of thought he was in. He smiles and chuckles, turning to look at the wine in front of you. “What kind of an occasion is it?” He asks after a beat. “Oh Shoyo is introducing me to his teammates today, wine’s something people bring to dinners right?”

He smiles and nods before pointing out several bottles. “These would be appropriate, and Shoyo likes this brand.'' He plucks one from the shelf before presenting it to you. You smile and thank him, before parroting his question back to him. He turns back to the wine. “Uh, Yumi got a promotion and I’m surprising her with dinner with her coworkers.” You hum in thought before grabbing a wine off the shelf for him. “I think this would be a good one. It's white, so the stain won't be as bad and won’t stain her lips like a red would. It’s a dessert wine so even her younger colleagues should enjoy it. Oh, and tell her congrats for me.” He smiles and thanks you before you part.

You arrive right on time at Shoyo’s, the wine was well received and his teammates were great. They were everything he told you and more, you all got along great, especially you and Atsumu, he was Shoyos roommate and it was great to have another person to make fun of his horrible habits with, much to Shoyo’s dismay.

The dinner flies by, and eventually, you’re the last to leave. You wave to Atsumu before hugging Shoyo. “Thank’s Sho, for everything you’ve done for me these past 6 months. I love you.” He squeezes you tight, kissing the crown of your head before pulling away.“You don’t need to thank me (Y/N), I know you’d do the same. I love you too, drive safe.” You wave as you leave back to your apartment.

I've lost my mind, I've spent the night. Cryin' on the floor of my bathroom

The next 6 months fly by, and you spend more and more time with Shoyo and his team. Bokuto dubs you an honorary Jackal and you celebrate drinking until dawn, as a true Jackal would. You spend time with them individually, the gym with Bokuto, reality TV with Sakusa, movie nights with Shoyo, and all of the above with Atsumu, in addition to annoying his brother Osamu at his restaurant.

It hits you out of the blue. You had felt a little off all day, but you had chalked it up to the takeout you had last night. You glance at the calendar as you walk past, only to backtrack and look again, with wide eyes. Today marked a year since the breakup. It had taken you a long time to move on, but you were finally starting to feel yourself again, so why did your heart ache all of a sudden? Why did the burning rise in your throat, prickling the back of your eyes as you began to breathe faster, feeling the despair rise out of the depths to rip a sob from you lips? You try to stop, taking deep breaths, count five things in the room, but none of it works. It’s not as bad as the other times, but you feel shame crawling up to join, you were finally turning things around, how could you let it all go to waste?

You curl into yourself on the couch, blindly calling Shoyo to ask for his company, maybe he’d know, he helped you get this far, maybe he can make sure you don’t fall too far. You listen to the rings until you hear the click of an answered call, not even letting him speak before crying into the phone, asking him to be with you, help you understand. Half your words are unintelligible as you ramble on, not really listening to the other end until you think you hear him say he’s on his way, but he sounded odd, different. Had you interrupted him? Was he too busy? No, he would’ve told you and sent someone else, probably Yachi since she was the closest.

You quickly tire of trying to hold everything back, and let it wash over you, all the feelings from this past year rise up, poised to drown you, and you allow it, letting it crash down and wash over you. You let the sobs free themselves, somehow knowing it was the right thing. You give yourself to the despair, the anger, the loneliness.

You don’t hear the knocking at the door, or the sound of the door opening, too absorbed untangling the knot of emotions in your heart; until you feel the cushion next to you you sink with the weight of another person, and a hand gently rubs your back soothingly.

You lean into him, letting him pull you to him like many times before. He pulls you into his lap, curling an arm around your waist while the other hand cradles the back of your head, letting you sob into his shirt. You take a deep breath, letting his familiar scent calm you- wait.

You freeze and your stomach drops. It’s not Shoyo. They're bigger, enough to cradle you against their chest. They’re whispering soothing words into your hair, and you hear a familiar accent, leaning back quickly enough to send a wave of dizziness through you and you sway for a moment.

“Woah, what’s wrong?” Atsumu asks, moving his hands to your hip and back to steady you. Your wide eyes meet his and he tilts his head slightly in confusion. “(Y/N), hey sweetheart, you okay? Gave me quite the scare there earlier ya know?” You continue to stare at him until he waves a hand in front of your face, breaking whatever spell you were under.

You blink a few times, shaking your head slightly as the corner of his mouth quirked up. You look back at him, brows furrowed, cringing when you hear your voice, hoarse after however long of crying. “’Tsumu? What’re you doing here? Where’s Sho?” He raises an eyebrow at your question, lifting his hand to wipe a tear from your cheek.

“Whaddya mean? You called me cryin’ an’ askin’ me to come here to keep ya company. Speakin’ of, what in the world is wrong? What’s got you so sad sweetcheeks?” Your face heats at the nickname.

“Oh, ‘m sorry, I meant to call Sho, he knows; it’s- today is-” He embraces you as a fresh wave of tears springs from your eyes. You can hear the rumble of his chest as he speaks, breath fanning your ear. “It’s all ok, ya don’t haveta cry, I can call chibi if you want him instead of me, it's no prob-“ You shake your head, cutting him off.

“No, s’kay. Thanks for being here ‘Tsumu, sorry I pretty much threw myself into your lap when you sat down.” You rub an eye, feeling awfully close to a toddler. He chuckles and combs your hair back, tilting your chin up so you’re looking him in the eye. “No needta thank me doll, and I won’t object to a pretty thing like you throwing themselves into my lap, though I’d enjoy it more if you weren’t crying. Now, d’ya wanna tell me what made you cry a river in here. Or at least what I can do to help.”

You curl inward slightly, not sure how to explain your wants at this moment, the emotions tangling in your chest too raw to name. You use actions to express your needs as words continue to fail you. You shift in his lap, straddling him instead of the awkward side hug you were doing before. You break eye contact, looking anywhere but him, feeling awkward and exposed. He snorts softly and his hands run up your knees, palm flat against your thighs, up and over your hips to splay against your back, bringing you back to his chest. Your pals lay flat against his sides, sliding along his ribcage and then south, fisting the fabric against his lower back as you rested your cheek on his shoulder. You waited and waited but the tears didn’t come, you could feel the tear tracts cool on your cheeks, trying to put your feelings into words.

A shudder than through his body as he felt you sigh into his neck, arms wrapping tighter around you, pulling you closer, until you were flush against him. The minutes passed by as the two of you stayed wrapped around each other, you breathing the only sound in the apartment. You sighed again, pulling away from him slightly to lean back to look at him. He searched your face, taking in the emotions clouding your eyes, thumbs rubbing circles into your hips soothingly. You gave him a weary smile and took a deep breath, looking down at your hands as you spoke.

“I don’t know if Sho told you about this, but about 6 months before I met you guys I got out of a pretty serious relationship, I mean it was my first relationship and the breakup hit me really hard. The day of the dinner was one of the first times I had truly felt myself again.

“We got together in our first year of high school. We had been friends years before that. God, I had a crush on him for so long, I can’t remember anyone before that.” Your voice is whispy, reminiscing on a better time. “I wasn't a manager that first year, though I was around often enough that I helped where I could. I was at almost every practice, which is how I got acquainted with the other first years. He was still guarded and grumpy then, so I was friends with everyone first, and we all slowly warmed up to each other.

“When he asked me out at the end of the year, after saying goodbye to the third years, it just- it felt so right, like this is supposed to happen. I was a manager our last two years and by graduation the six of us were close. We managed to stay in touch and visit each other whenever possible. Sho had gone to travel, Kei to Sendai for school, Hitoka and Tadashi stayed for school before she went to Tokyo and he stayed in Miyagi. Tobio was picked up by the national team immediately after graduation, to play in Rio. I was accepted into a university in Osaka, and he moved in with me when he got back.” You ignored the way Atsumu’s hands tightened their grip when you said his name.

“It was perfect, we- we were doing fine, or at least I thought we were.” Your voice cracked and you took a shuddering breath before continuing. “He traveled between Tokyo and Osaka a lot and of course for games but it never bothered me, I knew what I was getting into. Eventually, Sho came back, and joined your team, moving into an apartment not far from ours. I was so happy.” You whispered the last sentence, afraid if you said it too loud it’d sound like a lie.

“I hadn’t noticed any changes, he didn’t seem withdrawn or unaffectionate, he was like he always was, until he wasn’t. He came home one night and said he didn’t love me like that anymore, that he couldn’t love me the way I loved him. He- he said he tried to, he said he tried for a long time, in case it was a slump but it wasn’t. And all-all I could think about was the way he said it, like he had been thinking about this for a long time, he looked so tired like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders as he told me the last who knows how long was a lie.

“He left and stayed at a teammate's house until he could get an apartment. He moved close by, I still don’t know why he didn’t move to Tokyo. Sho came and stayed with me for a few days, until I kicked him out so he could focus on the tournament that was coming up. He kept in touch with Tobio, and would update me when I asked.

“That was a year ago, and I know I should be over him, and I am, or I thought I was until I realized what today was and- and everything, all the emotions I had pushed down came back up, no longer letting me ignore them. All the grief and anger and insecurity kept rising and rising until I thought I was gonna drown. Which is when I called Sho, or at least I thought I did.” The corner of your mouth twitched into a small smile as you met his gaze.

But you're so unaffected, I really don't get it

“I- I think it would’ve been easier if he hurt too, if I saw that it affected him even half as much, because that would mean he had felt something, he had loved me at one point. And I don’t know, maybe he came to terms with it before he ended it, but seeing him with someone else, not even 3 weeks later just rubbed salt too deep into the wound that just seeing them happy together sent me into tears. When I ran into them days after I found out, when I saw with my own eyes how good he was, how happy he was without me; I don’t know how long I cried, but it was suffocating, it had such a tight grip on me I couldn’t breathe, I didn’t even realize Sho was there until he was hugging me.” You watched your tears fall onto your hands, leaving droplets on his pants. You took in a shuddering breath, suddenly meeting his gaze.

“I just- I don’t know what wrong with me, why can’t I let myself be happy?” Your voice cracked, and you brought a hand to your face, embarrassment simmering low in your gut. Atsumu gently pried your hand away from your face, replacing it with his own as he cupped your cheek. He wiped the tears that fell from your lashes with his thumb. He brought you forward to kiss the crown of your head before returning his gaze to you.

“Doll, look at me. There is nothing wrong with you, ya hear? Your heart was broken, it ain’t gonna fix itself in a day. You will be happy, I promise. Whenever we lose someone we love, a piece of us goes with them. He was sucha huge part of your life, I’d be more worried if you weren’t sad. I can’t say when, but one day you’ll notice it hurts less and less until you barely notice it. Until then you have me and everyone else to help you, so don’t hesitate to lean on us when you need to, got it?”

Your bottom lip wobbled and your eyes were glassy with tears yet again, though this time for a different reason. You threw your arms around his neck and crushed him into you as you cried his name. “I didn’t know you were such a softie! I bet no ones gonna believe me when I tell ‘em.” He wrapped his arms around you again, you were so close you could feel his laughter in his chest. “Yeah, and I didn’t know ya were such a cry baby.” You snorted and pulled away, “That’s on you, I am a well-known cry baby.”

You matched his grin, feeling lighter. You pulled yourself off his lap, but he didn’t let you get very far, pulling you into his side, your legs thrown over his thighs as you turned on the TV. You ended up falling asleep on your couch together, your neck cramped and you found out you drool, but it was worth it.

But I guess good for you

The next few months went by relatively quickly. There were a few hiccups, mostly on holidays, but you listened to what Atsumu had told you and you leaned on your friends during those times. Speaking of Atsumu, while you two were close before, after that night you felt even closer. You found yourself at the apartment he shared with Shoyo more and more. You came to every MSBY game you could, usually helping Osamu run his booth.

When you weren’t with him, Atsumu would often find you helping his brother run orders at the restaurant; under the guise of an apology for annoying him so often, but both twins saw how happy you were when you were working. Eventually, Osamu just gave you a position there, because he didn’t want to get caught exploiting free labor, not because he liked you or anything, you were just as annoying as his brother- or so he says.

The blonde hadn’t noticed just how much time the two of you spent together until you went to visit Yachi in Tokyo for a week, and had odd chunks of time with nothing to do. It was confusing, and frankly off-putting how different it was when you weren’t around. Everyone noticed of course, and teased him for it, more the team than Osamu, because he couldn’t deny he missed you too.

Despite your protests that it was just a 2-hour train ride from Tokyo, and maybe another 10-minute ride to the stop near your apartment, Atsumu insisted on picking you up from the station during your call earlier. “ ‘M not taking no for an answer doll, I’m picking ya up.” You rolled your eyes at his stubbornness and sighed. “Fine, but I’m venoming you for the gas, no ifs ands or buts about it.” You smiled at the sound of his groan from the other line, good thing you were just as stubborn.

Well, good for you, I guess you moved on really easily

You were idly scrolling through your Instagram feed, about 10 minutes away from Osaka when you saw a glimpse of a ring, you scrolled back up and read the caption. ‘I’m the luckiest man in the world’ followed by a picture of what must’ve been Yumi’s hand, and adorned on her left ring finger was a large, and no doubt expensive, engagement ring. 6 months ago it would’ve summoned tears, but now you smile faintly, commenting your congratulations before scrolling past. Atsumu was right, eventually, it started to hurt less and less and now it was barely there.

You stood up when the announcement of your arrival in Osaka rang overhead, tucking your phone away and grabbing your bags to exit the train car. You immediately spotted your chauffeur, thanks mostly to the gaggle of young girls surrounding him as he laughed and signed autographs. You walked slowly, trying to buy time until they left but (un?)fortunately he spotted you. A wide grin stretched his features and you couldn’t help but reciprocate, lifting your hand in a small wave. He turned back to the girls and said something before breaking through, jogging towards you as you met him halfway.

You had an amused look on your face from his theatrics and the wide gazes of the girls he left behind. “Hey.” He said when he stopped in front of you. You snorted, “Hey.” He pouted at your tease, which only made it more funny, before rolling his eyes and taking some of your bags, giving you a pointed look when you tried to object. You huffed and walked next to him towards the exit.

You startled slightly when his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you by your hip into his side. You looked up at him but he kept his gaze ahead, though you could see the slight flush to his cheeks and the slight twitch of a grin. You reciprocated, hooking your thumb through the belt loop by his hip as you kept your gaze ahead, his stare bringing a slight heat to your face.

He laughed lightly and you two continued out to his car where he tried to make you sit in the back seat because “ it’s not professional for a chauffeur to let their passenger sit up front.” You laughed before letting your face fall into a mock-serious stare and said “no.” in the best deadpan tone you could conjure up before climbing in.

You raised an eyebrow as you looked at him when he didn’t start the car. His hands were on the steering wheel and he was looking ahead in thought. “Atsumu?” He looked at you, smiling softly, still not saying anything. “Uhh you okay? Do I really need to sit in the back for you to be able to drive because-“ He laughed, waving your concerns off. “No, no, I’ll allow it this once. Sorry for spacin’ out, I’m happy yer home.” You looked at him incredulously, “ I was 2 hours away ‘tsumu.” You see a faint flush creep up his neck and he clears his throat, turning back to the wheel and turning on the car. ‘I know, I just missed ya ‘s all.”

You were just able to make out his dejected mumble, quietly huffing in amusement as you glanced down briefly before turning to look forward, biting back the smile at his flinch when you grabbed his hand, bringing it to your lap as you intertwined your fingers. “I missed you too, ya big softie.” Smiling, he squeezes your palm before focusing on the road, and you feel something stir, a bud sprouting from the once hollow place in your chest. It hasn’t bloomed yet, but you have a feeling it will soon.

[honey-dewey]

The Sunspear Mermaid

Pairing: Oberyn Martell/Ellaria Sand/GN! Reader

Word Count: 2,045

Warnings: None

Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell @star-wars-hell​

The prompt for this week’s Writer Wednesday was given, as always, by the lovely @autumnleaves1991-blog, and I included a photo of the reader’s tail as well. 

There were plenty of things Oberyn didn’t believe existed anymore. Dragons, mainly, but there were other things as well, creatures that had long since faded from everyday life and had become nothing more than tales parents told misbehaving children. So when a fisherman came running through Sunspear saying he’d fished up a merfolk, Oberyn assumed him insane. But Doran, who had always had an active imagination, requested the fisherman bring the merfolk to the palace. They had a pool in the palace they could keep the thing in for now. 

Oberyn sighed, watching two horses pull a covered cart up a hill. He was in his room, Ellaria by his side. She peered curiously over his shoulder, resting her cheek on his bare skin. “My prince,” she said softly. “Should we not be at the pool with your brother?” 

“I don’t believe in things as childish as merfolk,” Oberyn replied, turning from the window. “But you may attend if you wish.” 

Ellaria nodded, shuffling into a thin robe and walking out of the room, leaving Oberyn alone with his thoughts. There was no way merfolk were actually still real, right?

————

To say you were pissed was an understatement. Trapped in a glass tank, you huffed, pounding on the sides yet again. It was a fruitless venture, but you tried anyway. How could you have been so foolish? Your mother told you that the land men were getting bolder, that they were fishing near your home and you had to be careful to steer clear of their nets. You just hadn’t expected them to come as close as they did. 

Sinking to the bottom of the tank, you sulked, swaying as the water sloshed around. You hoped the land folk didn’t intend to keep you here forever. It was much too small. 

Thankfully, the tank stopped swaying eventually and you felt it tip sideways slowly draining the water over the edge. You could hear it splashing into a different pool of water, and you perked up. Getting the message, you swam to the top of the tank, following the flow of water and falling into a much bigger pool of water. It was decorated with shining rocks on the bottom, the smooth colored surfaces arranged in such a way that an intricate pattern was created. Looking up, you spotted many plants above you, and some interesting architecture, but the details were lost to the rippling of the water. 

Land folk began to surround the pool, and you stayed firmly on the bottom, not wanting them to have the satisfaction of seeing you. Muffled words were spoken, and you huffed, sending a stream of bubbles up to the top of the water. You continued blowing bubbles, entertaining yourself as best you could. You would explore the pool later, when you were alone. For now, you just waited. 

The land folk disappeared shortly after, all wandering away and allowing you to swim around the perimeter of your new home. Some parts of the pool were covered, shadowed and secure beneath overhangs with arches and columns. You set up in one of the corners under the biggest overhang, yawning widely and wishing you were home before curling up and beginning to sleep. 

It was hours before you woke again, hearing loud footsteps running through the palace. Night had taken the sun from the sky, and your only source of light was the silver of the moon. The footsteps grew, and you floated out, wanting to see what was causing the commotion. 

A man was running around the pool, seemingly running from someone. He looked in both directions, seeing no way out, and dove into the pool. 

You shrunk away, pressing yourself into the corner. Did he not know you were here? How could he not? 

The man turned, seeing you. He let out a shout that stole the air from his lungs, and you immediately rushed forward, grabbing his face. He had facial hair that tickled your hands, but it was no concern of you as you pressed a firm kiss to his lips. He flailed, but you held him tight, pushing air from your lungs into his mouth. When you pulled away, the man swam backwards, gasping. He put a hand to his throat, surprised. He was breathing underwater. 

You examined the man. He had distinctly land folk features, with brown eyes and short brown hair. His face was angular and beautiful, and you wondered if he had merfolk blood in him. He wore yellow robes that swirled around in the water, his feet bare and his robe loose. You carefully stripped him of it, letting the useless fabric float in the water. Underneath, he wore a linen shirt and simple pants. 

The man tried to speak, but nothing more than bubbles left his mouth. You giggled, swimming in a smooth circle around the man. He twisted to follow you, but you were too fast, flicking the bare points of his skin with the tips of your fluke. He was entertaining, even if he did seem scared of you. 

You blew bubbles in his direction, and he flinched as they harmlessly hit him. He looked at you and your curious blinking. Hesitantly, he blew a few bubbles back. Clapping, you blew a large bubble and held it in your hands, tossing it to the man. He tried to catch it, but it popped when he touched it. 

A shout at the top of the pool pulled your attention away from the man. You looked up, grabbing the man and dragging him with you as you broke the water’s surface. He gasped when he hit air, and you tsked softly, using your tail to keep him above the water. 

“Prince Oberyn!” A sharp voice yelled. “Are you alright?” 

“Fine,” the man said, his voice strained. You knew, in that moment, he absolutely had some form of merfolk blood in his veins. His voice was silky as a siren’s and twice as enchanting, even marred by his breathlessness. “I’m fine. Stand down.” 

The men around the pool relaxed, helping the man out of the pool. You watched him go, a bit disappointed. He had been fun. What had the men called him? Prince Oberyn. So he was land folk royalty. You snorted, turning to go back to your corner and spotting something in the water. Swimming towards it, you realized it was Oberyn’s robe. You grabbed it, swirling it around you and eventually deciding to put it on. It didn’t exactly fit, but the deep yellow complimented your tail well and you liked how it moved when you swam. Curling up in your corner for the night, you sighed out, snuggling down in Oberyn’s robe. You would definitely be seeing him again. 

Oberyn did not visit you for a while. Other land folk came around to see you, but none of them were your mysterious land prince, and so you were uninterested. 

Finally, after months, Oberyn ended up at the pool again. He had a familiar land woman on his arm, and you tipped your head at the woman and she and Oberyn walked around the pool. She was watching you, her eyes full of curiosity. She spoke to Oberyn, who looked at you and shook his head. You scowled at him, swimming to the top of the water and sending a spray up, soaking Oberyn and the woman. She laughed, waving to you as you circled slowly, watching the pair. You waved back, giving her a mischievous smile and beckoning her close.

The woman broke off of Oberyn’s arm and sat on the edge of the pool. The water was too shallow for her to get her feet wet, but you swam to the surface, floating on your back and taking a few burning breaths of air before your lungs adjusted. 

“Do you have a name?” The woman asked, looking down at you. 

“I do,” you said. “Do you?” 

“Ellaria.” 

You hummed, flicking your tail and watching the water dance across your white gold scales. “Ellaria,” you purred. “A lovely name. I’m (Y/N).” 

Ellaria smiled. “This is my lover, Prince Oberyn.” 

“I know,” you said. “We’ve met.” 

“Oh?” Ellaria looked at Oberyn, who was standing nervously behind her. “He never told me that.” 

You giggled, waving to Oberyn. “When are you going to take another late night swim?” You asked him. “I miss you.” 

Ellaria laughed. “Is that where you got that robe?” 

Nodding, you fiddled with the sleeve of the robe. “It’s very comfortable.” 

Oberyn sighed. “I’m going back to our room,” he said, and you pouted, swimming in a frustrated circle. “What?” He looked down at you and your scrunched face. “If you have something to say, say it.” 

“Why do you hate me?” 

It was not what Oberyn was expecting. He was silent for a moment before sitting beside Ellaria. “I was unsure of your existence,” he finally said. “You and your kind were a fairytale to me. I am merely unsure of how to approach you.” 

You nodded, holding a hand out. “Join me,” you said. “My father used to say the best way to learn is to experience.” 

Ellaria stood, removing her robe and dress and sliding into the water with no hesitation. You steadied her, watching slightly as Oberyn pulled his robe off more hesitantly. He remained in his pants as he followed Ellaria, the water cradling him as he joined you two. 

The first few minutes were full of patience, with you circling the land folk pair and encouraging them to swim with you. Ellaria dove first, Oberyn following. You swirled around them, urging them lower. When it seemed Ellaria was running out of air, you kissed her. Kissing her was very different from kissing Oberyn. Where she was soft and eager, he had been rough and hesitant, although you found yourself missing the scratch of his facial hair against your skin. When you pulled away, Ellaria gasped in a breath, eagerly lighting up when she realized what you had done. She beckoned Oberyn closer, tangling with him and kissing him slowly and smoothly. 

The three of you played in the water for a while. After a good hour, during which the sun began to paint the sky with streaks of pink and orange, you eventually exhausted your land folk friends. You showed them how to weigh themselves down, laying across the patterned floor of the pool. Oberyn and Ellaria were pressed together, as if they were trying to become one being. You watched, almost jealous, until Ellaria summoned you close. 

Unable to speak, she scooted away from Oberyn, gesturing to the space between them. You slid in, finding a comfortable spot and immediately purring as warmth surrounded you. Tiny bubbles rippled to the top of the water, and your rumbles made your two partners smile. Oberyn wrapped an arm over you, pulling you closer to his chest. Ellaria sandwiched you to him, and your purring deepened. You wanted this every day, this gentle warmth and tight embrace and feeling of pure bliss. 

Eventually, someone must’ve noticed Oberyn was missing, and guards in various states of dress surrounded the pool, all shouting. You looked up, hissing slightly and tightening your grip on Ellaria’s shoulders. Oberyn smiled, kissing your cheek and floating to the top of the water. He spoke to the guards, who all nodded and dispersed quickly. Swimming back down, he embraced you and gestured to the surface. Reluctantly, you followed him as he crested the water once more. 

“They want us back in our room,” Oberyn explained. “I think they thought you had kidnapped us.” 

You sulked, face stuck in a pout. “I don’t want you to leave.” 

“I know,” Oberyn murmured. “I’ll speak with my brother tomorrow morning. I’m sure we can find a way to get access to my room from this pool. Worry not, we will remedy this.” 

He climbed out of the pool and helped a very reluctant Ellaria out as well. You waved, calling goodbye until your new lovers were out of earshot. Floating to your sleeping corner, you hummed, curling up and watching Oberyn’s robe swirl around you. Maybe being captured by the land men wasn’t such a bad thing after all.