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probably-writing-x · 1 year ago

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Armour - Chapter Five

Summary: Having your heart broken was one thing. But Rafe watching somebody break your heart? That was something nobody could prepare for.

Warnings: Cursing, I thinkkkkk that’s everything?

Author’s Note: I LOVE this series and I LOVE y’all for loving it <3 thank u thank u thank u thank u

———

You’d been in the same routine with Rafe for over a month now, constant calls, constant conversation, constant effort. And it had got to the point of feeling like second nature - like your hand reached for the phone at the same time every day when you knew his shift would be ending, you cooked your food and knew to wait for him to finish cooking his before you’d both facetime and start whatever film or episode you’d picked for the day. Since that one random day, he hadn’t said ‘i love you’ again, and you were yet to say it back. So far, you were sticking to your promise of waiting to see each other.

It was a strange feeling, really. You’d been single for two months now, though it hadn’t really felt like the kind of single you expected you’d be. You thought you’d still be crying if you thought about it, or you’d be scrolling through old photos on your phone acting like they were memories you hated, fearful of every day you were having to spend alone without the person you’d spent nine years of your life with. But… you were okay. You slept just fine on your own, you ate in restaurants and in cafes alone, you were experiencing a new city by yourself. And it was in those moments, all of the little bits that made up a day, where you truly realised that you’d moved on from James. Part of you would probably even want to thank him for ending the relationship when he did, maybe it was the best thing he could’ve done for you. You felt like yourself again.

Where Rafe fit into that new version of yourself was something that you hadn’t yet decided. It worked strangely well with the two of you thousands of miles apart, would things change when you were back to being at home. You couldn’t stop thinking about it. Were you fooling yourselves to think that it would ever be the way it was when the two of you were younger?

—__—__—

“(Y/N) hurry your ass up!” Rafe hisses from the car, quietly screaming into the air.

The passenger door is open and he’s leaning over the console towards the empty seat, watching as you tug your shoes on at the door, stumbling over untied laces to find your jacket and keys. There’s a mess of blankets tucked under one of your arms and you grab a pillow from where you’d left it on the stairs before hurrying out towards him.

“Shhh,” You hiss in return, tossing your stuff into the back seat of the car before climbing in.

Rafe had passed his driving test only two weeks before, and his father had bought him this truck almost instantly - you’d joked about him being spoilt but you weren’t exactly complaining now that it finally gave you the freedom to do things like this. Right now, it was 4:45am and the two of you were sneaking out to drive over to the far side of the island to watch the sunrise. If your parents knew that you were going, they’d give you the talk on how you had to watch yourself with Rafe - how you had to keep a fair distance from him. So far, you were yet to listen to that advice.

“You know, I still don’t trust you to drive,” You shake your head, resting your feet up on the dashboard of his car.

The summer heat was stifling in the Outer Banks this year, and even at this hour of the night, the windows of the car were rolled down to try and alleviate some of the burning in the air.

“Oh yeah? Don’t trust me?” Rafe raises his brows at you, gripping the wheel a little tighter as he swerves the car left and right down the street.

“Rafe!” You exclaim a hand reaching out to grip his arm.

He laughs a little, the kind that creases his eyes briefly. Rafe straightens up the car and glances away from you to focus back on the road, “You can trust me. Just get your shoes off my dash.”

—__—__—

When your phone rings a few days later, you don’t expect to see Cleo’s contact flash up on the screen. It’s late over there, and even later over here. You’d been fully asleep when the phone had first rang, fumbled around on your nightstand to find your phone and eventually managed to answer the call before it rang out.

“Hello?” You croak out, flicking on your bedside lamp as you prop yourself up in the bed, your mattress practically begging for you to return to sleep amongst the sheets.

“(Y/N)!” She exclaims excitedly on the other end of the call, “I’m so sorry, I know it’s late.”

“No, no,” You clear your throat, blinking the sleep from your eyes, “Is everything okay?”

“Well…” She pauses like she’s waiting for someone, “We’ve got news.”

“We?” You frown, dragging a hand through your messy hair.

“We’re engaged!”

Both her and Pope’s voices speak at the same time, only half a second delayed from each other as his voice trails to finish the phrase just after she had - but both of them sharing the same excitement in their tone that seemed to radiate through the screen.

“Oh my god I-“ You exclaim with as much energy as you can muster, “Congratulations!”

“Thank you!” They both say in return before Cleo continues on her own;

“We just couldn’t wait to tell you. Please tell me you’re coming home soon, we need you here to celebrate!”

Your eyes trail over the dark shapes of your room, barely visible in the low light, but they eventually settle on your laptop set out on the small desk occupying one wall of your bedroom. In a few clicks you could have the flight booked. Your Air BnB reservation ended in two days anyway, and you hadn’t exactly thought of what you’d do after that. The thought of going home had been one you’d been putting off for a long time but you had to bite the bullet eventually. Going back might make you stop running from it all, but maybe you didn’t need to be running anymore.

“Um, yeah, yeah, definitely, I’ll be home soon.”

—__—__—

“Rafe I swear to god you’re taking up way too much space,” You nudge at his side again and again as he laughs beside you.

“I’m not doing anything! You’re just dramatic,” He points out, “You’re going to miss the sunrise at this rate.”

“Move over!” You exclaim once again, trying to push his form towards the other side of the truck.

The two of you had set up your makeshift camp in the open back of his truck. There’s a single pillow propped up behind you, in the middle so that both of your heads could rest on it, and the blanket was sprawled over the top of both of you - though Rafe was probably taking more than half of it.

“There’s no space!” He shakes his head, stretching up one of his arms to tuck under his head, his hair flattened against the bend in his arm.

“You’re the worst,” You roll your eyes at him, eventually accepting defeat as you shift to lay back down in the space next to him.

You’re at a weird angle with the pillow shared between you and your neck is crooked to try and keep a good enough view of the sky in front of you. For now, the view was still littered with stars, but they’d disappear soon for the sun to instead break over the horizon. It was peaceful, nobody else on the island would be up this early. There was something about that for you and Rafe - a comfort you found in nobody else. He was your best friend, though you would never admit that to Sarah.

“Okay, question,” Rafe comments, “Do you think you’ll stay here after school ends?”

“Here?” You frown, both of your eyes staring at the point where the water met the sky.

“Yeah, here, in the Outer Banks.”

You take a deep breath. School finishing was still over a year away - that felt like a lifetime. Anything could happen between now and then. But the thing about living in OBX was that it generally felt like nothing ever happened. You couldn’t imagine being here forever, but you couldn’t exactly imagine being anywhere else.

“I don’t know, maybe,” You return, “Would you?”

He doesn’t respond for a little while but you watch his shoulders shrug when you turn your head towards him, “I guess, I’ll have to be here to take over from Ward anyway.”

Both of you fall to silence and somewhere in the calm, you move your head to rest on his shoulder. It’s comfortable, like it grounds the two of you in the moment - both forgetting completely about the discomfort of the entire setup you’d made in the truck. Rafe tilts his own head so that his cheek rests atop your head, seemingly melting his form against you like he relaxes completely.

“I couldn’t imagine being here without you,” Rafe mumbles into the dead air, “I don’t think I could be anywhere without you.”

As he speaks, the first glimpses of sunlight poke above the clear horizon and spill onto the water. They catch on the flat waves and dip over to reach you, brightening the air around you.

You take in a deep breath and lean closer against him, “You’d be lost without me.”

“Yeah, yeah, I think I would be.”

—__—__—

There aren’t any direct flights between London and Norfolk, of course, and it feels weird when you arrive at JFK - so close to Rafe and yet incapable of seeing him. He was in meetings all day today and apparently it was something really serious, though he told you it was way too boring for him to explain to you. With the flight times and shitty service, it had been a while since you’d spoken to him anyway, but it felt weirder than ever to be going back home now. You didn’t feel like the same person you were when you left, and it felt like your entire life had changed in the last couple of months. But you were going back home, more sure of yourself than ever.

The taxi drops you just outside of Sarah and John B’s house and you drag your suitcase along their driveway with a strange anticipation.

Before you can even knock, the door swings wide open.

“Oh my god you’re really here!” Sarah exclaims, her arms outstretched wide to hug you.

You grin and drop the handle of your suitcase, hurrying over to her. You hug her cautiously, her bump swollen in the space between you - much larger than when you’d seen her last.

“I’m so happy you’re home,” She lets out a sigh of relief against you, “I missed you way too much.”

You laugh and step back from her, looking down at the bump, “And everything is going well?”

“Yep, two months to go, nursery is pretty much done now,” She smiles, “And if John B makes any more furniture for the baby, we won’t have any space in the house.”

“Did you expect anything different?” You smile.

She leads you inside and tells you that your old room is still there for you, obviously. And it feels like a little piece of you has returned home, truly.

—__—__—

The sun has fully risen before either of you think to move but you start to hear the way Rafe’s breaths even out beside you. Somewhere between the night meeting the day, his arm had moved from his side to wrap over you, his hand resting across your torso. You hadn’t thought to move it - it just felt natural. He’s snoring just slightly, barely audible, but it seems to rumble in the air between you as his head snuggles against yours.

You tilt your head just slightly, enough that you can catch a glimpse of him. His soft features. The way his cupid’s bow dips prominently above his lips, shadowing over where the slightest hint of stubble grew across his upper lip. His hair needed cutting but he hadn’t thought to worry about it yet. His eyelashes look longer than ever as they fan down to cast shadows just over the faint dark circles under his eyes.

In that moment, you know. You’d stay here if he was here, you’d go if he left, you’d want him to follow you if you went. Because home wasn’t in so-called ‘paradise on earth’, or with your family or by yourself - it was with him.

In your movement, he stirs from his slumber and his lips part with a groan, stretching beside you as his arm disappears from your torso, leaving a hot mark in it’s absence. He stretches his legs out and his arms extend above his head until eventually his eyes follow suit and open too.

“What time is it?” He mumbles through his fatigue, blinking against the now blinding sun.

“Um, like nine I think,” You return, leaning up onto your elbows.

“We should head back,” Rafe grumbles, pushing himself up to sit, the blanket falling around his hips, “Good to go?”

“Um, yeah, yeah, sure,” You nod, shuffling yourself out of the back of the truck and following him around, going your separate ways to the driver and passenger seats.

The two of you drive home quietly as the rest of the town starts to wake up around you, businesses opening and cars passing by you on the busier roads. Rafe taps his hands on the wheel in time to the quiet music coming through the speakers, and every so often he hums along, silencing when he pulls into your driveway and puts the car into park.

“Okay, now I have a question,” You speak into the space between you, leaning your head back against the headrest of your chair.

“Go ahead,” He leans his head back too, rolling it so that his eyes are focused on your direction.

“Did you mean it earlier? That you couldn’t imagine being here without me?”

Rafe laughs lightly but you’re sure you catch the sight of his cheeks turning just a little bit pink, “Are you kidding? There’s nobody else that I like here.”

You smile a little and bite your lip so that it doesn’t extend too far onto your face, “I jus-“

“This place is unbearable, you know that. If you weren’t here I’d be bored out of my mind,” Rafe continues, “Then again, I can’t imagine you want your entire life to be here. You’ll go to college, probably find someone, settle down somewhere that’s not here.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding, “Yeah, yeah, maybe.”

“You know Sarah thinks there’s a guy at school that likes you, maybe you should go for it,” He persists, raising his eyebrows at you.

You can’t quite figure out the expression on his face, one that seems as though it’s hiding the slightest glimpse of pain. But Rafe was always good at hiding his emotions.

“A guy at school?” You shake every other thought out of your head, the slightest quiver in your voice that you try to avoid focusing on, ��Did she say who?”

“Some guy called James,” Rafe traces his finger over the curve of his steering wheel absently, a sort of glass look to his eyes.

“Oh, right, I didn’t know,” You clear your throat, “Maybe you’re right - maybe I should go for it.”

—__—__—

“Is this okay? Or is it too fancy?” You brush your hands over the material of your dress, checking it over in the mirror once again.

You were getting ready to go to the engagement party that Pope and Cleo were hosting at his parents’ house. They’d told you to dress fancy but you never really knew what that meant with this group - JJ would likely still show up in shorts.

“You look gorgeous!” Sarah exclaims, fixing her hair in the other mirror - getting ready like this felt like being back to when the two of you were younger, gossiping over things that were likely to happen at the next party, dreading the thought of seeing people you hated.

You’d opted for a flowy silk dress, one that Sarah had in her closet but had never worn. It hugged your curves and flowed airily around your legs, thin spaghetti straps either side of your chest. Your hands brush over it once more before flattening over the slick back bun of your hair, tilting your chin to check your light covering of makeup.

“Okay, okay, I’m ready,” You nod, oddly nervous to see the people that had known you for a short forever.

It didn’t feel like you were the same person that they’d known before, just slightly changed in every aspect by the loss of what you thought was your future, perhaps changed even more so by the realisation of what you really wanted instead.

You grab your bag from the bed and follow Sarah downstairs to where John B was waiting with the car already running, engine humming impatiently in the air.

It’s a short drive across the island to where Pope’s family home was and John B parks the car amongst the few dotted vehicles of people that were already there - JJ’s bike is on the far side against the porch, accompanied by the similar one that he’d got for Kie, spending months working on doing it up.

You follow Sarah and John B across the way to the front door, already open to let in the air and the flow of people coming to congratulate the happy couple.

Instantly, you’re met with Pope and Cleo as soon as you enter, their faces lighting up at the sight of the three of you.

“Congratulations!” You all say in chorus, enveloping the couple into some sort of group hug in a mess of all of your arms.

You jumble through questions of ‘how did it happen’ ‘did you cry’ ‘what did your parents say’ before spending at least a minute in awe of the ring decorating Cleo’s hand - it had belonged to Pope’s grandmother.

“Well, we bought you these to say congratulations,” John B holds out the flowers in front of him, a bouquet wrapped in brown paper .

“That’s so sweet of you, thank you!” Cleo beams, “Would you mind putting them over on that table? I’ll go get you guys some drinks too, what do you fancy?”

“I’ll take them,” You offer to John B, taking the flowers from him along with the couple of cards you were already holding.

There are already bouquets of flowers lined up along the table, along with a few cards all expressing different forms of congratulations. You set the flowers into one of the available vases already filled with waiting water and make sure they look somewhat presentable against the other fancy bouquets. Just as you go to set down the two enveloped cards, your eyes brush over the ones already there. There’s one from Pope’s parents with a heartfelt message that almost brings a tear to your eye, another from JJ and Kie with a message along the lines of ‘fucking finally’. But there’s one out of all of them that catches your eye - handwriting you’d never forget.

To Pope and Cleo,

Congratulations to the two of you on your engagement. You were meant to find each other .

Rafe

There’s a lump in your throat before you’ve even scanned the words, reading them over again just to make sure the name was what your mind was telling you it was. No. He must’ve just sent it in the mail. Right? It could’ve got here in that time. Then again, this was the Outer Banks - nothing ever ran that fast. Maybe he sent it as soon as they told him. Maybe?

“(Y/N)?”

It’s John B that speaks up from behind you and you can’t help the flinch in your shoulders as he snaps you from your thoughts.

“Everything okay?” He says as you turn around, a frown settling between his brows, “Pope and Cleo said everyone else is outside - I thought I’d come and get you before we went out.”

“Right, yeah, of course,” You clear your throat, “Sorry, just looking through the cards.”

“I got you a beer, is that alright?” He outstretches his arm to you with a cold bottle of beer held in his grip.

“Perfect, thanks,” You offer a smile in return, taking the drink into your hand to slightly mask the shake of your fingers.

You follow behind him through the house until the two of you reach the final room and he stops in his tracks, so abruptly that you almost knock into the back of him.

“What are you do-“ You’re cut off as he steps aside, far enough for you to see what stood right in front of him.

There’s a lump in your throat almost instantly, a sort of numbness in your entire body, a determined focus on not dropping the bottle in your hand as the cool condensation seems to itch at your skin.

He’s there. He’s here. He’s home.

His hair is shaved now, cropped short against his head, and there’s a tan to his skin seemingly enhanced by the cool grey of his suit, the crisp white of his shirt. His eyes are on you and only you.

Somewhere in the moment, John B has made himself scarce, sure that each other are all you need in this moment.

“I took a wrong turn on the way to work,” Rafe says nonchalantly, his lips curling into a smile as he speaks.

You laugh gently and set your bottle down on the nearest surface, stepping across the short distance between you to wrap your arms around him quickly, finding their way around the back of his neck.

Rafe chuckles gently against your ear as his head dips into your shoulder, arms around your waist strong enough to lift you up from the floor.

His laugh in your ear breaks into a symphony around you, like an entire chorus has just begun as the simple sound of his joy. A symphony for him. For being home.

“Why didn’t you say?” You pull away from him enough to look at his face, scanning his features, your hands on either one of his shoulders.

Rafe shrugs gently, hands settling on your waist, “I didn’t decide until you were already on your flight. And then I just left, I just knew I had to be here.”

“I can’t believe yo-“

He hears your voice crack over the words and takes it as his instant task to stop your tears.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Rafe shakes his head, “I’m mainly here to see Pope.”

You laugh and the tears in your eyes seem to settle, sniffing them back just to be sure before you step reluctantly away from his arms.

“It’s really good to see you,” He confirms with a sincerity you couldn’t even try to deny.

It lights up a smile onto your face that you were sure wouldn’t ever be matched by anyone else, a brightness only he brought to you.

“Yeah, it’s really good,” You nod, hand slipping down from his chest.

He catches it before it falls completely to your side, lifting up your hand in his as he laces your fingers together, squeezing gently before pressing a kiss to the knuckle of your ring finger.

Rafe doesn’t need to say more, and neither do you. It’s enough in that moment, nothing else needed. Your hands drop back down to your sides, still laced with his as he picks your drink up from the counter and hands it to you, leading you out to the group outside.

It was an odd feeling really - not a single one of them commented on it. Nobody thought to make a corny comment about the two of you, or pick up on the way he stood so close to your side, the way he looked at you when you spoke, the way his eyes lit up when you laughed. Because, for the first time, all of this felt just a little bit natural - like the two of you starting to gravitate towards each other. And all of them were happy to let it finally happen.

For the rest of the party, you and Rafe mingle separately around the crowds. He speaks to Sarah about how the pregnancy is going and tells her he still can’t believe it is happening. You talk to Cleo and Kie about starting on wedding plans, and Kie says she can’t even start to imagine what JJ will say in his best man speech. They ask you about London and tell you that you looked the best you’d ever been - and you agree, it’s the best you’ve felt. JJ jokes that James would be kicking himself for the next decade for losing you. It’s another realisation that you’ve moved on when you don’t feel anything at the mention of his name.

Eventually, darkness starts to slip over the garden and the warmth of the sun slips away just a little.

“Hey,” You’re greeted by the feeling of a hand pressed against your back, soft and certain against the dip towards your lower spine.

You turn your head slightly and glance at Rafe, his form towering over behind you.

“Fancy getting out of here for a bit?” His face has that same boisterous energy that he had when the two of you were seventeen, the same brightness in his eyes.

“Okay,” You hum in response.

He slips his jacket off from around him and sets it over your shoulders, squeezing the skin before his hands leave you.

With that, you follow him out around the back of the mingling crowd of people, down towards the side of the house that would lead out down to the water.

“It’s crazy seeing them two engaged, isn’t it?” You comment, “And with Sarah and John B having a baby.”

Rafe nods, matching the stride of his steps to walk alongside you, “A lot is changing, we’re all growing up.”

You laugh and follow him down the dock, watching the way the moonlight seems to reflect from the water and into his eyes. He sits down on the edge of the wooden dock and stretches a hand back for you to sit down beside him, helping you lower yourself to the makeshift seat.

It’s peaceful, the sky and the sea quiet around you.

“So,” Rafe nudges his shoulder against yours, “Are you happy to be back?”

“It’s nice, it’s comfortable, you know?” You nod, your hands in your lap.

All of you wants to reach out to him but there’s a slightly irrational side of yourself that is scared to, fearful of overstepping a line that neither of you had drawn.

“Yeah there is something nice about coming here, knowing everywhere, knowing everyone,” Rafe continues, “I know when the sun sets and what stars you can see, which route gets you home faster away from the tourists.”

You laugh, “Yeah, I don’t think anywhere in New York would get you away from the tourists.”

“I liked New York,” He persists, “It was a good escape.”

“Was?”

“Well, I can’t just leave my job there or anything, but I don’t need to escape anymore,” He smiles gently at you, dimples prominent on either side of his cheeks.

Both of you fall to silence again and he reaches over to take your hand into his, still resting the interlocked hands over your lap.

He’s certain then, as he’d been certain with so many other things recently, that he knows it. He knows that this is all he’d been waiting on. A moment of peace, with you, your hand in his. Knowing you were here, that you were home.

“Do you remember when you first got your car?” You say quietly, letting the words catch on the breeze in front of you, “When we used to sneak out together.”

He chuckles deeply, “Of course I do, I’d come and pick you up in the middle of the night and we’d find the sunrise.”

You nod, “There was one day we went and you fell asleep on me and I remember laying there and thinking then that I knew. I knew that I wanted to be with you, that I wanted you by my side.”

“But I-“

“You drove me home and in the car you told me that I should give James a chance,” You swallow the lump in your throat, staring at an unmoving spot in the water, “I went out on my first date with him four days later. I knew I was in love with you and I still went with him.”

“Why didn’t you-“

“I was so terrified of losing you as a friend that I spent that entire first date convincing myself that I liked him and I didn’t need to love you. And I did the same on our next date too, and again and again and when he asked me to be his girlfriend I said yes without a second thought because part of me really believed that I could do it - that I didn’t need to love you anymore,” You let out a shaky breath, “I was kidding myself for nine years.”

Rafe looks down at your hands intertwined and smiles to himself, a little laugh passing his lips.

You turn your head to look at him, hints of a frown toying between your brows, “Are you laughing at me Rafe Cameron?”

He turns to look at you, “I told you to wait until I saw you for you to tell me that you loved me, and I think you just did.”

You can’t help the ferocious heat that claws at your cheeks and you bite at your lip to stop your smile from spreading too widely over your face, “I think I just did.”

Rafe grins, releasing your hand from his to cup your chin between his thumb and forefinger, drawing your focus solely to him. Slowly, but with nothing short of certainty, he pulls himself in towards you, eyes flicking down to your lips before he presses his against yours in the softest kiss the world can muster. It’s gentle and calm, and your hand moves up to grip his shoulder as if the contact needs to ground you into this exact moment. He deepens his kiss against you, fingers shifting from your chin to around your jaw, fingers stretching to the back of your neck as his thumb caresses your cheek, fingers gripping you into him.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that,” He half laughs as he pulls away, his forehead pressing into yours, lips curling into a smile as his breath fans hot over your skin.

You laugh and bring your hands to either side of his face to hold him in your grasp, as if reminding yourself he was really there.

“God, I love you (Y/N).”

“I love you too.”

———

Taglist: @viianey @baby19sthings @tsokaro @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @starkeylover @kylianswag @eggingamazinglove @allsmilesreally7 @m-indkiller @maybankslover @shara-ne

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disdaidal · 11 months ago

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by the way i wanted to stop by and tell u that i feel you very much re: your writing struggles and dilemmas!!! like it's so frustrating having so many thoughts and ideas and plots and headcanons etc and feeling like it's physically impossible to get down into words! and it sucks that it's so clearly and easily visualised in our head and yet when we attempt to put words onto paper/document it's like. this is a Mess.

but also literally every time i start criticising my own work these days i try and pull myself back and be like this is literally for me and when i don't put pressure on myself to try and have it perfect and ao3's greatest hits worthy then i usually end up having a blast typing out all my lil funky fic things and it's fun again. and then i wanna share it with a friend and i realise it's not coherent enough for that then it sucks again. then i tell myself its for FUN and it's a vicious cycle lmao

ANYWAY all that to say i hear you wholeheartedly and i think whatever you've managed to write is amazing and every little fic and au you've ever thought is probably incredible and i hope u always know that ❤️🫶🏻

Aaaand two days later~ 🙈

I already started writing a lengthy answer back to you, but then Tumblr decided to be a fucking 🍆 once again and deleted everything, so. 🤪

Anyway, I wholeheartedly agree with everything you said here. Having all these ideas, all these tropes and AUs, all those scenes and dialogues circulating in your brain and yet you feel like it's not good enough—definitely not good enough for publishing. You keep telling that to yourself: it's not good enough, it will never be good enough, you'll never be one of those popular writers who write these total bangers one after another, so why bother, right?

But I also wholeheartedly agree with that statement that you should primarily write for yourself. I also had a lot of fun recently writing something on my docs that I still haven't fully published on ao3 or anywhere else, and I gotta say, I kept rereading that work over and over again because that one I truly wrote it for myself. Like, it felt so good to be self-indulgent for a change (I honestly can't recall the last time I've genuinely enjoyed reading my own writing before that, which is very telling I think), and when I suddenly experienced that feeling—that pure joy—once again... That feeling was so euphoric.

Like, what even is the point of writing anything if it feels like nothing but pain and misery all the fucking time? 🙈 It should be fun and self-indulgent. Most of the time, at least. It's really fucking hard for sure, but it still should be fun.

Anyway, I'm rambling again here, so, thanks so much for this ask and your words of encouragement. Made me feel a little bit better again. <3 I also want to say that whatever you're currently writing, even just daydreaming about, I genuinely hope you're having a blast at it. And if you ever decide to publish/share any of those stories of yours, I'm 100% there are people out there who are ready to kiss your feet just for writing that story and sharing with them. I certainly feel that way about certain stories, even authors, so. Who knows, maybe our stories could have the same kind impact on other people, too.

Gotta stay positive and just... goddamn write. Right? :D

#replies #hotdadlicense #there are a few tropes and AUs on my mind right now and it's absolutely killing me #but it's also giving me such euphoria right now so... maybe i'll write them one day #who knows #<333

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mayaflowerxs · 3 years ago

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hi there! can you do nsfw a-z for hendery? thank you! <3

NSFW Alphabet w/ Hendery

Warning: Smutty!

A/N: Thank u for the request hope you enjoy!

Aftercare:

He’s alllll for aftercare. Even if he’s not there with you and are doing phone sex he still does it. He’s asking you if you’re okay, to go get cleaned up, get some rest, eat and take a few minutes to yourself. If he went too hard on you he tends to stay with you whether it’s on the bed cuddling or just flat out following you to make sure you’re not having a hard time walking or doing any other activities that’s requiring you to move. Your safety means the world to him so even when you tell him you’re fine he won’t stop budging. At one point I can see him brushing you off and sending you to the couch or bed while he cleans and fixes the place up.

Body Part:

Not really a body part but he loves your hair. He loves tugging your hair just as much as he loves his being tugged.

Cum:

In any hole really. Hendery is just a sucker to see you full of him. He doesn’t like it splattered on you because he’s convinced it’s being wasteful and he may or may not have a breeding kink 😶

Dirty secret:

He has an oral fixation. Like the dude is literally in love with eating you out and sometimes it can get too much for you when you two get intimate. He can’t help it he loves it so much but won’t show it because he thinks you might get annoy of him constantly attacking your pussy :( so when you two do get handsy he seriously does not hold back at all. If he gets to a point where he has you practically sobbing then so be it but he’s not going to back off until he’s for sure done with you (if that’s what you’re into)

Experience:

I see him as experienced. Had a partner here and there and definitely went past making out. But oh boy they just didn’t hit the way you do. Everything he always wanted to try out was with you which is why it’s all the more special. Because you’re so accepting that he grows more and more confident in pleasuring you.

Favorite position:

Definitely doggy and cowgirl. He needs to be in charge. Now when you’re in cowgirl he never once has you think you’re in charge. I see him as one who’s very dominant behind all that goofiness. He’ll have you leaned down on his chest, an arm around your neck and the other around your waist as he relentlessly pounded into your fucked out cunt. Not holding back until every last drop is deeply stuffed in.

Goofy:

Okay he’s definitely goofy in the beginning. He’ll crack a hole here and there and overall just make it all the more comfortable. But as soon as the first moan leaves one of your guys mouth he’s inner dom comes out and no more Hendery now you’re face with Kunhang.

Hair:

Honestly it’s one or the other. No I’m between he’s a pretty confident man so he won’t worry whether he still keep it nice and trimmed to bare. If he wants to leave it as is he will and same goes for you. He literally does not mind what you do with your girl down there as long as he’s stilling tapping it it’s literally all that matters to him smh.

Intimacy:

The only time there’s real intimacy is if you two have been away for a long time. Missing you so much just as has him wrapped around you the entire time. And when you two are climaxing he’s pressing kisses to your shoulder, temple, lips anywhere silencing telling you, you did a good job and he loves you so so much.

Jerk off:

Oh yeah. He does it quite often. The boy literally is a puppy who grew attachment issues. He tends to miss your touch and presence and eventually that longing turns into sexual frustration that he just can’t tame. Kinda surprised how he still hasn’t been caught cuz of how often he does it especially since he shares his room. He loves to jerk off with you, so phone sex is a must.

Kink:

The biggest breeding kinker. Bondage. Those are his go to but he’s up for anything. Nothing is ever a routine when it comes to him he always has to try something new, nothing to big of a new but just something to spice things up. So things like choking, he grew fond of that as well. He also tried using ice but it only irritated him because the ice wouldn’t stop sliding down so that was a big turn off for him which only resulted in him taking out his frustration on you, annoyed that it didn’t work out to well but hey you didn’t mind. You got fucked by a frustrated Hendery that’s a pretty win win for you.

Location:

Okay hear me out, Hendery is literally in denial when it comes to this. But the man can literally do it ANYWHERE. Just with the right amount of edging and or sexual tension is why gets him to snap. Usually when his mind isn’t going fuzzy and he’s not in a lustful state he won’t even think to the idea of taking you in a public restroom. Or fucking you in the car in a parking lot filled with other cars. But as soon as you begin to tease him or whisper him how much you need him he slowly starts turning into the dommy man you oh so love just like his regular self and before you know it you’re coming back home with a slight limp.

Motivation:

How lost you get. You will be minding your own business but won’t notice how every move you’re making is a bit more seductive to Hendery’s eyes. He snaps as soon as you flash him that ‘innocent’ smile at him and that’s when he has you pinned. He also loves how confident you get, when you’re in the mood you don’t hold back. Already on a mission to tag Hendery’s whereabouts and pounce on him. Seriously ends up falling more in love with you when he’s all of a sudden gets dragged away from his activities and pushed onto a surface to lay or sit on. Biting his lip as you begin to attack him in kisses. Yeah he’s a goner right then and there.

No:

Honestly Hendery says no to anything he considers not that fun or interesting. Like the ice, won’t ever do that again what a waste of time and ice.

Oral:

My god YES. He loves you sucking him but usually he gets impatient because he’s the one who wants to eat you out. Might get a bit selfish because you like oral too so he might take up your time just so that he gets to work on you. The boy literally loves eating pussy he can go for hours and not get tired. Though eventually it gets too much your hands are pushing at his head and legs desperately trying to shut, hot tears running down your cheek by how sensitive you’re getting. Close to seeing spots.

Pace:

He has a good pace. Not too fast or slow, doesn’t stop often nor does he pound into you continuously without break. He knows exactly what pace to go which is right in the middle of it all which is what gets you to cum hard. His pace reflects on his thrusts and stamina and when all three come together he gets his baby happily pleasured which is all that matters to him.

Quickies:

Into it definitely. Hendery is overall a sex addict. That’s the truth. And the thing is he does good when you’re not around, for some time. But once your in view, in arms length or just the mention of your name is an instant click in his brain to desperately fuck you to tomorrow. Always before practice, after concerts, before grocery shopping. Hell he might even drag you to the bathroom and fuck you while you two were in the middle of shopping. He’s all for it and he’s not ashamed of it.

Risk:

Doesn’t give a fuck. Quite frankly he wishes someone catches you two in the act. Just the mere thought already has him climaxing so hard. Just seeing the shocked face of someone catching him fucking you balls deep is probably a deep desire of his. Like I said earlier this man can fuck you anywhere and won’t care who can see.

Stamina:

This boy has such a high sex drive he’s learned how to keep a high stamina. Hell even after you two are finished he still might have some energy he still needs to let off but never acts upon it because he sees how tired and worn out you are he just no longer has the heart to keep you going. You already did so much for him his needs can wait.

Toys:

Yes! I see Hendery as secretly kinky so using toys is a must for him. He’ll mostly use them to edge you on, yes he might like using them but he will never have a toy make you cum. If anything only he can, not even a toy shall do that to you. I also see him as the type to have lots of phone sex with you and have you use them but as soon as you’re close to cumming he’ll demand you to get rid of em and use your fingers to finish you off.

Unfair:

It’s a 50/50 for him. Usually he likes to tease you but not for long. He’s not the biggest fan of not giving you what you want.

Volume:

I feel like he’s one who’s kinda shy to show you his sounds of pleasure when you first go out but the more he gets comfortable and the more you reassure him he gets more vocal. Now that doesn’t mean he’s the loudest mf, I feel like he is only ever loud when he hits the spot to the point where his fingers are practically leaving a bruise on you by how good it feels. But other than that he’ll most likely grunt and have heavy breathing. Sweat running down his forehead which is what gets you going and have you get him to grunt louder when you either ride him faster or squeeze around him.

Wildcard:

When he plays video games with the boys he tends to have you on his lap throughout the game. Cock warming is his absolute favorite. He treats it like a challenge. How long can he have you on his lap without fucking you and usually it lasts around four rounds until he’s saying goodbye and fucking you from behind. Letting all his sexual needs on to you who is currently shaking his desk top like crazy.

X-ray:

Feel like he’s a bit over average. I feel like he’s more long than girthier but doesn’t mean it’s skinny as hell. Don’t get it twisted the boy be packing no doubt.

Yearning:

The man craves for you literally all the time. The only time he doesn’t yearn for you is if scheduling is kicking his ass and he’s too sleep deprived to even eat properly. Even then he might make it up by having lazy sex with you as soon as he wakes up. You guys have sex pretty regularly, if anything it’s a lot than regularly. You must have some nice working birth control because man with all these rounds and you’re still not knocked up. Only making it a challenge for Hendery to succeed in. And let me tell you once he challenges himself he most definitely succeeds.

Zzz:

Hendery is either or. It’s either he’s so worn out of his energy he falls asleep or he still has some energy left and uses that to clean up and yourselves. Usually because of how much he puts you through you’ll be the one knocked out so he’ll probably distract himself by playing the drums or doing what Hendery usually does.

#nct scenarios #nct x reader #nct reactions #nct smut #nct imagines #hendery #wayv imagines #wayv smut #wayv hendery #hendery nct #nct hendery #wong kunhang

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blu-joons · 3 years ago

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DAD BTS A⇴Z HEADCANON ⇴ Min Yoongi

A ⇴ AFFECTION

Pregnancy definitely brought out an affectionate side of Yoongi that you hadn’t seen before. He was a lot touchier with you, especially around your bump, holding onto you often even when the two of you were in public too.

B ⇴ BUMP

He was incredibly protective of your bump; he’d always keep an eye on it whenever you were on your feet or moving around. On those restless nights that you had too, he’d always be there to try and comfort you as best as he could by relaxing his arm around your bump or tracing gentle shapes across it to try and distract your little one from wriggling around too much.

C ⇴ CRAVINGS

For the most part, Yoongi was more than happy to help you out with whatever cravings you had, however when you asked for some peculiar combinations, he’d definitely judge. You could tell by the way that he looked at you that he probably thought you were crazy, but all the same he’d go and get whatever you wanted to make sure that he kept you happy.

D ⇴ DUE DATE

Yoongi was by far the calmer of the two of you as your due date approached, you couldn’t understand how he was so relaxed about things. He knew that you needed him to be relaxed, and although a small part of him definitely began to fret as your due date neared, the overriding feeling that Yoongi felt was excitement, every time the nerves crept in, he’d just remind himself of all of the incredible things that were coming your way.

E ⇴ EXCITEMENT

The excitement that Yoongi felt about having a baby was certainly one of the biggest things that surprised you. He wasn’t usually one to express much emotion, but when it came to talking about the baby, he wouldn’t be able to wipe the smile off his face. It was one of the biggest things that the others noticed around him too, how much happier he seemed and how wide the smile on his face was as time passed.

F ⇴ FAMILY

His mum especially would be involved with the two of you often, when Yoongi struggled, he’d only have to ask his mum and she’d have the answers. She’d also often pop round with meals prepared for the two of you, with you not as active on your feet as you used to be, she was keen to make sure that you looked after yourselves when it came to meals, filling up your freezer every single time she came to your home to visit.

G ⇴ GETTING READY

Yoongi was usually very organised, however getting ready for your baby to arrive was completely different. He’d always worry that he’d forget something or that something wouldn’t go the way that the two of you hoped for. However, those worries would always be well hidden as soon as you were around him to keep you calm too.

H ⇴ HEARTBEAT

Words failed to describe for Yoongi how incredible it felt for him when he heard the heartbeat of your little one for the very first time. You could tell that he was trying to keep himself together, however, as soon as you got back to the car and out of your appointment, his hands were wiping the tears from under his eyes.

I ⇴ “I LOVE YOU”

You noticed a lot more since you fell pregnant how often Yoongi would remind you that he loved you. He’d usually get quite shy whenever he said it aloud, however as you were growing and things were getting a little more stressful, he’d say it more often in the hope that it would keep you calm and make you feel supported too.

J ⇴ JEALOUSY

Yoongi didn’t tend to get jealous over anything when it came to your pregnancy, there were little things that annoyed him, but nothing ever really got to him. He loved that the others wanted to be involved and support you both, and whilst he loved being there to support you, he sometimes failed to hide his relief that he wasn’t the one actually carrying, and instead could just support you through the hard times.

K ⇴ KICKS

The kicks of your baby would often wake Yoongi up, especially when he rested against your bump. It would always make you laugh as you could tell how hard he would bite his tongue to not vent that he’d been disturbed, reminding himself that it was the baby, and that he could never really get mad at them too.

L ⇴ LABOUR

He was calmness personified when it came to labour, whatever you needed, Yoongi had it, wherever he was needed, Yoongi was there. There were certainly snippets when he’d feel his heart beat a little bit faster, but for the most part he knew that he needed to be calm in order to support you. Only once it was over, did he allow himself to relax and let the emotions of the day that he’d kept pent up hit him a little harder.

M ⇴ MORNING SICKNESS

The morning sickness was one of the hardest things for Yoongi to adjust to, even once it had passed, just the thought of it sent a shiver down his spine. You were well aware that Yoongi didn’t cope too well with things like this, so when it first arrived, you’d try and get through it without him knowing. However, when he found you one day, and after a quick scolding, he never left your side when you were being sick again.

N ⇴ NURSERY

Decorating the nursery was much more of your thing than it was Yoongi’s, but that didn’t stop him watching over you constantly as you painted and stepping in whenever you were building something when it began to feel dangerous.

O ⇴ OBSESSION

He was obsessed with the relationship that he had with you, pregnancy certainly brought the two of you closer and made Yoongi feel a whole different love for you that he had never experienced before.

P ⇴ POST BIRTH

You were barely made to lift a finger for the first few days after your labour, Yoongi did everything that you needed him to. As the same as during your pregnancy, his mum especially came round a lot, offering her reassurance whenever the two of you began to worry that you were doing the wrong thing or not knowing what your baby needed.

Q ⇴ QUESTIONS

He’d often find himself questioning what pregnancy hormones did to you when you’d ask him for something strange. He never imagined you’d be one of those expectant mums that would suddenly have all the weird cravings that you did.

R ⇴ RANDOM FACTS

When you were eventually sleeping, Yoongi would often take himself away and into his studio, where he’d often write down lyrics from the emotions that he felt throughout your pregnancy. By the end, he had a whole song written, keeping hold of it, promising himself to share it with your child when the time was right.

S ⇴ SCANS

Numerous copies of your scans were always kept on Yoongi wherever he was. If anyone ever asked for one, he’d always have copies to spare to hand around, and if they ever had any questions then he’d be more than happy to point out even the smallest details about your baby, remembering exactly what the sonographer would tell you both.

T ⇴ TEST

You ended up finding out you were pregnant whilst Yoongi was on tour, which put a slight dampener on the whole experience. However, as soon as he was home, Yoongi made absolutely sure to make up for leaving you to experience it all by yourself.

U ⇴ ULTRASOUND

After missing out on taking the test, Yoongi made sure to be at all of your appointments so that you never had to go through another step of pregnancy all alone.

V ⇴ VISITS

As much as he wanted to enjoy your bubble alone for the first few days, he couldn’t wait to show your baby off, and so as soon as the boys mentioned coming to visit you both, Yoongi gave them a date and a time to be there for.

W ⇴ WAITING

He was incredibly patient throughout your pregnancy; you were much more impatient and often having to be calmed down by Yoongi.

X ⇴ XXXX

As with his affection in general, Yoongi would kiss you a lot more often too, especially around your baby bump. He’d often lay beside it lay at night, trailing kisses along the length of it to measure how big it grew each and every day.

Y ⇴ YOU

You were his inspiration, the strength you had to go through pregnancy left him in awe.

Z ⇴ ZZZ

Sleep was precious to Yoongi; however, he was open to sacrificing the odd hour whenever you needed him. It was certainly a part of his routine that struggled to adjust, but he knew more than anything that even through the night, you needed him.

---

Masterlist

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k0kichiimagines · 3 years ago

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hhshhckd saeran brain rot time

you can request other characters for this, including other versions of Saeran!

- mod kokichi

[GE] Saeran Choi N$FW alphabet

CWs: N$FW

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Very soft, he usually gets a cloth to clean up and then holds you for a bit, fingers tracing your skin and whispering soft words to you. Sometimes falling asleep.

He'll run a bath afterwards, pretty bath bombs included.

At some point he may question what you enjoyed, mostly if you tried something new.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

At first he doesnt like anything about himself. He starts to love himself through how you love him, starting with his hands.. or more how his hands look on you.

On you ? Everything, but he loves your neck // collarbone when hes more in his Unknown persona, hips and thighs generally. He loves kissing or holding your hands during your moments as well.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

He likes cumming inside or on the sheets, you'd have to ask him if you wanted it anywhere else tbh.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Probably when you first entered his life, and for the first time he started getting thoughts about someone. Not just feeling aroused, but feeling it towards someone in particular. Both Ray and Saeran felt nervous you would hate him if you found out.

Also unknown has an exhibition kink, i know this is GE saeran but i have to get it out there.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

No experience, I doubt he watches porn tbh but he did *some* research. He's not innocent on his kink knowledge.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Missionary! He loves having you close to him and having your front view exposed to him, seeing your face and etc. Any position he can see your face he likes.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

He might make some light jokes here and there, very soft ones and not common. He might even softly tickle you in a teasing way once or twice. For him, sex is very intimate and loving and he wants to make it feel relaxed and stuff.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Okay i feel like this depends on what you hc happened to his hair. If you take the dye route, then no it's still red. I personally see it as being from the elixir, so i think it'd be white with some red here and there.

Yes i think he shaves every now and then, just trims when he's feeling lazy.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

He's so intimate and loving in everything you do together, especially so during sex. Even kinker stuff holds intimacy and love for him.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Not really. I feel like he's able to keep himself usually in check, and now he has you he doesn't feel the urge as much. He does a few times though, if you ever caught him he'd freeze for a second, debating how to respond.

He used to, during the Mint Eye and stuff, but even then only very rarely. Perhaps more often once he saw you.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Praise kink!! Orgasm denial.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Honestly anywhere. He prefers private areas, such as your house (again, anywhere. but the bed is comfortable so usually there). He dreams of having wide open fields and gardens, so in a closed off area there is good.

In public? Yeah he's down, not often but the excitement of hiding and keeping both of you silent gets to him at times.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

You. Just whisper at him, or subtlety imply something, maybe trace your fingers close to his crotch. He'll get the idea pretty quick.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He would never degraded you or want to be degraded. Teasing? He's okay with it, but both from his childhood and the Mint Eye degradation would make him uncomfortable. Same with inflicting pain or choking.

I think tying him up would only be a sometimes thing, he wouldn't suggest it unless you wanted to and he'd only want it a few times.

Otherwise probably just stuff like vomit, piss, y'know.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Ohhhh he likes spoiling you, he's a giver.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Yes. (Depends on the mood, and what you want. He's a big romantic so he likes the slow mood, but equally having you beg for him to move is... hot)

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He likes them! Just not too often, he prefers sex-sex.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

YEP, depends on what of course but he's down! Just maybe don't expect non-stop kinky stuff with him.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

When he first gets out the mint eye, not more then one. As he heals and recovers he can go for longer and go for more rounds, just give him time.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Owns none, i dont think i need to explain why.

He's not too fussed on toys, if you have handcuffs or whatever you want to try he'll use them, and may even find one he likes, but he doesnt have a big preference for them.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He's always a tease, even in his after ending he teases you softly. Anything from words, to moving his fingers painfully slow, this man is a tease.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He definitely makes noises, soft whimpers and gasps mixed in with sentences that sometimes trail off (but you know what he means). He'll get a bit loud at times, he might kiss (or bite) you to silent himself.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Your first time having sex together is going to be very slow paced and gentle. In his own words, your his first love, but that also makes you his first everything. Sex including. He has a few nerves of his own, and he would prefer if you two spend time exploring each other the first time.

If you're not a virgin you can give him guidance, but even then you'll be learning together, even more so if you are a virgin.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

I've read that circumcision is pretty popular in South Korea, however due to his childhood i honestly don't know if he would have gotten it done. His mother might have, equally she may not have,, i looked it up and apparently its done very young a lot of the time so probably yeah??? man i dunno i dont have a dick okay im out of my depth here 😭

ANYWAYS i think hes 5 to 6 inches or so, not woah really big but equally not small.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Hmm, I feel like he's not always horny but equally he's quick to get in the mood - if that makes sense? He has a good control over his emotions (sometimes), but equally if you push a button he's gone.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Pretty quick, he prefers if you fall asleep together though so he usually waits until you're sleeping.

#saeran x reader #saeran choi x reader #mystic messenger x reader #GE saeran #saeran choi #saeran choi x mc

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ladyvesuvia · 3 years ago

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[Navigation] [Masterlist]

@firewhiskyss: 🎢 harry with either “That’s a little melodramatic, don’t you think?” or “I’m afraid I’ve been thinking…” “A dangerous pastime.” because my heart can’t handle angst rn 😋☝🏼|| for my 300 followers celebration

Pairing: Harry Potter x Fem!Muggle!Reader

Summary: Being stuck in the elevator is bad enough, but being with a stranger makes matters worse.

Words: 3.9k

Warnings: not proofread, light cursing, elevators, power outage + let me know if i missed anything

A/N: too bad u cant handle angst i could’ve found ways to sneak that into this hehe jk anywaaayy ok i felt uninspired sorry hydagjih

Harry held a bag he did not own in his hand. His shirt was a bit muddied and moist on one side, but he didn’t mind. He stood in front of the eighth door he’ll be knocking on in hopes it was the owner of the bag. It still wasn’t, though.

Instead, a woman his age greeted him with a smile. She was pretty, sure, but she wasn’t what he was looking for. He apologized for interrupting and went ahead to knock on the ninth door.

It swung open, and Harry let out a long sigh.

AN HOUR OR SO AGO

“Hold the door!” said a voice from the lobby. Harry pressed the open door button in haste, the doors doing as it was told to do. The figure rushed inside, hair dripping wet on the tiled floor of the elevator. He kept his eyes trained to floor as she moved his way to press the button to the eighth floor. “Thank you,” she mumbled.

The girl next to him began to dry her drenched hair with a purple towel, patting herself dry. Harry risked a brief glance in her direction — she was wearing a floral one-piece swimsuit which she layered with denim shorts. When she caught his eye, they both inched away from each other uncomfortably. To their relief, the elevator started to move up.

Nobody seemed to be coming in just yet. After all, it was six p.m. and most were probably outside biding their time for night swimming. Harry, on the other hand, just came down to get a box of doughnuts for Mr. Weasley, who he can only assume was changing into his swimming trunks in their hotel room. The rest were probably doing the same.

Harry was waiting for it to reach the ninth floor when the elevator lurched to a stop on the seventh. While Harry refused to meet eye contact with the girl next to him, she was busy trying to convince herself it was alright.

It’s okay, she thought to herself as she made a show of more aggressive patting of her hair in more of an attempt to calm her drumming heartbeat than to really dry it. Another passenger was probably just entering.

But she knew better, they both knew better. The lights above them began to blink in an inconsistent manner. To her dismay, the doors did not open nor did they continue to go up.

They both turned to each other with a bewildered look on their faces. Harry made to reach for his wand, but held himself back. Then the lights went out along with the tiny ones coming from the buttons. Harry froze. He heard the stranger next to him shift, probably wrapping the towel around herself. She had stopped pretending to pat herself now. Harry watched as her as she dropped her bag down on the wet tiled floor and pulled out a bulky gray block from it. Harry stood there awkwardly as if a statue while she kept on fumbling with the block thingy he now recognized was a flip phone. A light glowed from it, her face looking similar to that of a ghost.

She pressed it against her ear, but it seemed to not be working. She then raised her hand higher in hopes of getting better reception to no avail. Harry cleared his throat. The girl’s head whipped to his direction. “The emergency call button,” said Harry.

“I know,” she spat, reaching out for the buttons. But instead of clicking that particular button, she clicked the button for opening doors. Harry noticed she seemed to be shivering a bit even with the towel.

The girl was still dripping, albeit lesser now. She kept pressing the open door repetitively with her wrinkly fingers. Harry remained stiff, unsure if he should use his wand. “What floor are we currently?”

Taken aback, Harry didn’t respond for a couple of seconds until she reached out to his shoulder to check on him. “Oh, er — seventh, I think.”

He then heard her click a button he supposed was for the seventh, then a bunch of other buttons the next.

“We’re gonna die, we’re gonna die, we’re gonna die. . . .” Harry found that he preferred the constant clicking noises from the buttons over her constant reminder of their ‘impending doom.’ It was like fourth year all over again when their Divination teacher Professor Trelawney kept telling him he was going to die an early death. She kept chanting to herself in hysterics.

“Have you tried . . . the emergency call button? The one with the bell?”

“What do you think I’ve been doing?” said the girl. To his surprise, she picked up her bag again and aimed it at the elevator door before swinging it right in the middle. She then started banging her fist hard on the doors, pounding. “Help! I’m stuck! I mean, we’re stuck! Hello? I’m wi —”

“There’s a press to call thing here,” pointed Harry.

“Good,” she remarked as she practically run to it when the elevator made a creaking noise from above. The girl let out a shriek as she fell backwards and pulled Harry down with her. “Lie flat or we’re both gonna die!”

“Why — ?”

“JUST DO IT.” He did. Both of them sprawled their legs and he felt the damp floor wet his back a bit, but he was still weighing the pros and cons of pulling out his wand. Of course, if it were up to him, he’d pull it out in a heartbeat but the Weasleys’ vacation was on the line and he couldn’t jeopardize that by—

The elevator whined, and it felt as if it was moving a bit. “We’re gonna plummet to do our death!”

“Calm down,” said Harry, hardly knowing why he even bothered in the first place because he didn’t know what to say next especially with the girl’s expectant eyes on him. He thought of what Hermione had told them when they first came here, who then attempted to calm the others down about their feelings on Muggle Elevators. “Er — elevators are one of the safest ways of transportation with only the fatality rate of zero point zero-zero-zero-zero-zero-something-fifteen percent per trip.”

“Oh, shut up, stranger,” cried the girl. “There’s still a fifteen in that end. We’re gonna die, accept that!”

“You seem to be the one having troubles accepting that,” argued Harry back. She shot him a glare.

“I haven’t written my will and we’re gonna die. You see — you hear that rumble? We’re slowly falling down and we’re gonna die. I should have — should have taken the stairs. Please, please, please let me live! I swear I’ll start eating vegetables! This is it stranger, we’re gonna die.”

“That’s a bit melodramatic, don’t you think?”

“We’re about to die and you have time to think? Lie with your chunkiest bits on the floor to increase our chance of survival.”

He wanted to argue, but he resorted to inching further away from her and stretching his limbs awkwardly.

“Damn it, you shouldn’t have kept the door open!”

“How is that my fault? If anything, I was being nice,” said Harry.

“Being nice? You just sentenced me to my death and now I’m dying in this cramped space in a swimsuit and shorts that aren’t even for swimming!”

Surprisingly, the elevator whined to a stop. They remained on the floor for half a minute. Eventually, she was the first to stand up. Dusting herself and not meeting Harry’s eye, she smashed the bell button with her finger. It buzzed for a few seconds before a guy’s voice answered.

“Hello,” said the operator. The intercom seemed to be having troubles.

“Uh, hello, hi,” replied the girl.

“So are you currently stuck in the elevator?” Harry could hear the girl turn to him in the dark and call up the look of utter disbelief, as if wanting to reply, ‘No shit.’

“Yes, very much.”

“Okay, are you alone?” asked the operator.

“Unfortunately, no. I’m with . . .” she trailed off, turning to Harry with prolonged contemplation. “With stranger. I’m with stranger. A stranger. With a stranger, I mean.”

“May I know your names please?”

“Uh, sure? I’m . . . Papier Matchen and this is —”

“Har — Neville. Neville Longbottom, sir,” answered Harry. The operator did not respond. “Neville Longbottom.”

“Are you both guests?” asked the operator.

“Yes,” said [Y/N]. “Wait, are you a guest?”

“I am a guest,” said Harry stiffly.

“He’s a guest,” she added, as if in an attempt to keep whatever morale is left high. The operator didn’t respond again. “Hey, uh, operator? It would really help if you didn’t keep disappearing on us.” She chuckled nervously.

“What floor are you currently on?” said the voice with a bit more static.

“Uh, well,” she said, turning to Harry, “last time we checked, it was on the seventh but it moved down a bit and we might be in-between floors seven and six.”

“Alright, thank you. We’re currently experiencing a city wide power outage, and it appears that the back-up battery in Elevator Three has not yet been replaced since the last brownout. We apologize for the inconvenience.”

“Yeah, you should be sorry. So, uh, is any of your authorities gonna come and pick us up?”

No response. She pressed the button again. And again. And again. No sound came, not even static. “Hello? Hi?”

When no one responded again, she slumped to the floor once more, her hair still wet but no longer dripping. “Sit down,” she said, pointing at the spot right next to her. Harry obliged. “You can sit across, I don’t care. I know I smell like chlorine right now.”

Harry sat across from her, leaning back against the wall. She didn’t talk either. This went on for about five minutes until Harry had the urge to do something or at least say something.

“I’m afraid I’ve been thinking,” he started.

“A dangerous pastime, you should be afraid. Go ahead,” she said, gesturing a finger gun his way.

“Shouldn’t we try to get out of this?”

“Who are you, Bruce Willis? Need I remind you that you are Nev . . . Bottom?”

“That’s not actually my name,” said Harry.

“Same, I just said Papier Matchen off the top of my head. Like papier mache but witchy. My name’s actually pretty good, I think. I’m [Y/N] [Y/L/N]. Oh, wait, nope, don’t like it.”

“I think it’s good.” [Y/N] turned on her phone and shone it around until it landed on his face. Harry realized he had kept the box of doughnuts in the corner when she made them sit down. “I’m Harry,” he said when she finally turned off the phone.

[Y/N] turned it on again and directed it to the box of doughnuts. “Are those doughnuts to make us super tiny like Alice in Wonderland or something?”

“Oh, those are for my friend’s father.”

“Let’s eat it, I’m hungry,” said [Y/N].

“It’s for my friend’s father.”

“You have to realize that that is so not a good enough point. We’re trapped in an elevator with no means of communication with that musty man and eating that is the only thing we can do. Unless you want to do something else?”

“Er — What?” choked Harry, clearing his throat. “Okay, fine, uh, doughnuts.”

She made a triumphant sound Harry couldn’t explain, but paid it no mind as she reached out to grab the box of doughnuts from the corner. She set it in front of her.

“Hey, these are from my aunt’s bakery.”

“They are?” asked Harry.

“Yeah! The one across the street from here?” asked [Y/N], to which Harry nodded. “Ooh, you got the one with Oreos? Nice! I helped design those.”

“Okay, uh, can I have some?”

“I thought it was against your will to take some of these from your ’friend’s dad?’” teased [Y/N], but she handed him a doughnut anyway. Harry began to eat just like she did. “Sorry I forced you to lie down here. . . .”

She looked at him, waiting for something. What? Harry furrowed his brows, confused.

“Sorry, I mean, what’s your name again?” asked [Y/N], hints of the chocolate stuck between her teeth and some on her lips.

“Harry Potter,” replied Harry, who debated against himself whether or not he should point it out. After all, she seemed to be having a good time and they just started to lose the tension. “You’ve got uh, something on your, you know.”

“I know,” said [Y/N], but she didn’t do anything about it. “Anyway, can you believe six and seven are lucky numbers yet here we are, stuck in the wretched elevator between them?”

“No, that’s why I don’t really believe in those . . . things.”

“I’d say that’s insulting, but I’m dripping in my swimwear while I’m stuck in the elevator with a total stranger, so fair enough.”

Harry didn’t know how long they were talking, but it just went on. He was pretty sure there were times he even laughed. Harry reached out to grab another doughnut when he realized she was holding it as well. They both let it drop back to the box.

“Oh, no, it’s yours,” said [Y/N].

“It’s okay, you can have it,” said Harry.

“I ate more than you did, you can have it. Just go,” said [Y/N].

“You can —”

“You know what? Let’s just split it.”

[Y/N] ripped it in half, handing him the bigger slice. Just when Harry was going to offer to exchange, she swallowed it whole.

“Too late, I ate my half already.”

“I can see that,” said Harry. He began to eat his own half, savoring it with three more bites.

“Sorry I smell like chlorine again.”

“Eh, I don’t know, it’s kind of growing on me,” said Harry. “I shouldn’t have said that, sorry.”

“On a good day, that would sound like an insult but it’s anything but a good day, so, thank you, I guess.”

The two shared a laugh (and most definitely three) the entire time when the lights turned on. They could see each other clearly now. There was no denying they felt quite vulnerable — like finally meeting an friend you only send letters and emails to for the first time, but she smiled to make it feel lighter.

Suddenly, it started to move up again, [Y/N] kept them seated just in case it started plummeting again. It didn’t, though. It opened on the seventh, as the indicator told them so.

The intercom buzzed once more and different operator spoke. None of them stood up.

“Hi, power’s slowly being restored. How’s everyone?”

“We’re good,” said Harry. [Y/N] smiled in the shadows, tossing the towel in the corner. “Wait, you’re — er — good, right?”

“Yeah, surprisingly so,” she said.

“Good to hear, we’re currently doing the best we can to cater everyone’s needs. Has your, uh, elevator moved yet? Sorry, I’m new here. Anyway, has it?” asked the operator.

“Currently open on the seventh floor, but we’re both going up, all’s good now, don’t worry,” answered [Y/N]. She stood up, taking the towel with her.

“Okay, great, thank you and take care!” said the operator before the intercom buzzed off. Harry and [Y/N] stood there as the elevator door closed shut and began to move up and open again to the eighth.

“So,” started [Y/N], “this is me. My floor, I mean.”

“Right,” said Harry

“Well, I still don’t like elevators and I may or may not ride one ever again so I can’t believe I’d ever say this because it’s hella cheesy but thanks for making it bearable.”

“I feel like I should say, ‘you’re welcome?’” said Harry.

“Oh yeah, you should.”

The door began to close, but Harry pressed the open door button.

“Okay, you’re welcome.” The two shared lighthearted laughter. “Anyway, er — thank you, too. See you around?”

“Yeah, yeah, see you around. Bye.” [Y/N] waved as the doors closed between them and Harry was once again all alone in the elevator.

He noticed what a mess the floor was, and went to pick up the empty box of donuts. His hand went to where he kept his wand to clean up and looked around for cameras and found one tucked in the upper corner. Harry let his hand down and dusted his shirt with his hands when something caught his eye. A beach bag in the corner, resting carelessly.

The door finally opened to the ninth floor. Harry was frozen, looking directly at a long hallway of doors. It took a few seconds until it whirred and shut close. Not knowing what to do, Harry picked up the bag and swung it over his shoulder.

He tapped his foot as he waited for the elevator to go up to the twelfth floor until it began going down again. He pressed the button to the ninth floor again.

Ten.

Eleven. A couple his age entered, probably about to go down. Narrowed eyes landed on him and his dirty shirt and pants, but he paid them no mind.

Twelve. The couple started to talk about their plans on the honeymoon tomorrow. Harry busied himself by playing with the straps of the beach bag. He realized just now it had her name inside one of the straps lazily written with a sharpie. [Y/N], it stated.

Eleven again.

Ten again.

Nine again. The door opened, but he did not step out. Of course, the couple began to eye him with suspicion now as he reached out to press the button to the eighth floor.

Eight. When he stepped out, he heard the hushed but relieved sighs from both of the other two behind him as the elevator proceeded to close shut and go down.

Harry knocked on the first door. A man in his pajamas answered. Harry muttered an apology as he walked away to try the second door. He heard the first door swing shut.

The second door was equipped with a sign on the doorknob saying, ‘Do not Disturb.’ So, of course, Harry moved on to the third. He heard loud sounds of children playing inside. When he knocked, a tired woman carrying a toddler in her arms answered. Harry apologized once more and moved on.

Harry’s shoulder was aching, so he let the bag down and simply held it in his hands.

The fourth door was answered by a middle-aged man holding a glass of wine.

The fifth door’s knob held the same message as the the second — ‘Do not Disturb.’

As you may recall, Harry held a bag he did not own in his hand. His shirt was a bit muddied and moist on one side, but he didn’t mind. He stood in front of the eighth door he’ll be knocking on in hopes it was the owner of the bag. It still wasn’t, though.

Instead, a woman his age greeted him with a smile. She was pretty, sure, but she wasn’t what he was looking for. He apologized for interrupting and went ahead to knock on the ninth door.

It swung open, and Harry let out a long sigh.

An older woman greeted him with a pleasant smile. “Hello, dear,” she said. He took a shot and asked if she knew anyone by the name of [Y/N] [Y/L/N]. Unfortunately though, she did not.

Harry finally made it to the last door. He knocked once more, holding the bag tighter now. A little kid answered, with her parents and siblings in the background, eating pancakes. They did not know of someone named [Y/N] [Y/L/N], either.

Shoulders slumping, Harry made his way back to the elevator. He pressed the up button.

“Excuse me?” called out a voice from behind him. His heart skipped a beat. Wait, don’t skip, he thought to himself.

It still wasn’t her. It was the same girl from the ninth door. “Yes?”

“You’re looking for [Y/N]?” she asked. “[Y/N] [Y/L/N]?”

“Er — yes. Do you know her?” asked Harry.

“Yeah, she’s in the shower. Is that her bag?”

“Oh!” He almost forgot that he was holding it. “Yes, yes it is.”

“I can give it to her,” called out the woman. She closed the door behind her, making her way towards him. When she was close enough, she extended her hand.

The elevator dinged open. Harry was about to hand it over to her, when he decided something else.

“Er — no, uh, I was actually hoping if I could see her.”

She let her hand down, grinning. “You must be Elevadork.”

“Oh, yeah, it’s an inside joke,” said Harry.

“You can wait inside,” said the girl. “I’m Karolina, by the way. She’s just showering because she’s, and I quote, ‘will be too unlovable if smelling like chlorine.’”

Harry chuckled as Karolina led him to their hotel room. It was just like every other room he had seen, then he saw the same towel she had with her just a while ago when they were stuck with only each other’s company.

“He was nice, though. I wouldn’t mind seeing him again. By the way, we’re out of hair conditioner. My hair badly nee — Harry!” [Y/N] tumbled backwards to the bathroom with a different towel wrapped around herself. Harry’s eyes widened, and he turned around.

“He wanted to return your bag and ask you out,” said Karolina.

“That’s not what I actually said,” whispered Harry, turning crimson.

“Honey, trust me, it was definitely what you said,” laughed Karolina, patting him in the back. “You might want to change first.”

“I guess,” added Harry.

[Y/N] rushed to the get her clothes from one of the two beds and ran back to the shower, where she hastily pulled on her shirt and checkered pajama pants.

“She’s done changing, by the way,” said Karolina, patting Harry on the shoulder again as she left to pour iced tea for herself.

[Y/N] led Harry out, earning two thumbs up from Karolina, who was beaming up at the two of them. “How’d you find me?”

“Fate,” said Harry mockingly, as if from a show. She giggled. “I knocked on all the doors in this hallway.”

“To return a bag?”

“Sure, that, too. But mainly to ask if you’d like to get some — er — doughnuts with, uh, me. I really want to bring some up to —”

“Your friend’s dad, right,” [Y/N] cut out. “Are we still taking the elevator?”

“Yeah,” said Harry.

They finally reached the elevator, where they stood side by side.

“Aren’t you going to change first?” asked [Y/N].

“Nope,” said Harry, pressing the down button. He turned to [Y/N], looking at her shirt. “Does that say ‘Treacle Treat?’”

“Yeah, like as in Trick or Treat. See the pumpkin?” She pointed at the bottom part of her shirt.

“Oh, there it is.” The two were laughing even when they stepped into the elevator. They exchanged a knowing glance at the sight of scattered crumbs of doughnuts on the floor, not daring to talk about it in front of one another guest.

As the elevator began to go down, Harry realized he might as well believe in the lucky numbers. After all, if it weren’t for six, seven, and nine, he wouldn’t be here right now standing shoulder up to shoulder with the girl wearing a funky shirt.

Taglist: @gingerale2017 @maybanksslut @hey-there-angels @mrzweasley @gwlvr @booksarealwaysbettersworlds-blog @greenlyblue @henqtic @meiitanoia @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts

#harry potter #harry james potter #harry potter x reader #harry potter x reader fluff #harry james potter x reader fluff #harry potter x fem!reader fluff #harry potter x fem!muggle!reader #harry potter fanfictions #harry potter fic #harry x reader #harry potter imagines #harry potter x y/n #ves.writes #ves.writes harry potter

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wonderwomanfantasy · 4 years ago

Text

Omi Alphabet

Tumblr ate this the first time lets see if it goes up this time

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

he's very sweet, he'll clean you up and ice anything that is looking red and ready to bruise. he learns what you like pretty quickly and just sticks to that.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

he really likes his arms and hands. they are so big and powerful, they can do so much damage, wonderful.

on you, your mouth. your lips are so soft and you always taste so fucking good, you can also do the nastiest things with your mouth, he loves it.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

he cums so much, just everywhere all over the place, his balls are so big it would be weird if he didn't produce this much cum.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

he seems to have a bad habit of catching you with your skirt flipped up or catches you in your underwear in other ways, he doesn't do it on purpose but it happens all the time it makes him feel gross but he isn't exactly complaining.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

he knows what he's doing, he's probably had sex with every serious partner he's been with and then some random one-night stands or BDSM play partners.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

he loves to fuck you from behind, specifically pushing you down over random bits of furniture and fucking you. there is something primal about it that really turns him on

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

please Omi isn't goofy out of the bedroom he's very serious in the bedroom he takes his lovemaking very seriously.

H = Hair (how well-groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

very neat, there is a little triangle of hair right above his dick the rest is clean-shaven.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

It very much depends on the mood he's trying to set, if cold passionless fucking gets you off then fine, but if you've had a hard day he will worship you and lavish every part of your body in attention and love.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

not often, but sometimes, it's not really a sexual thing for him as weird as that sounds he mostly just does it to relieve stress if he's turned on masturbating isn't going to help as much as fucking you is.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

BDSM really its rules and punishments that get him off, whether he's setting them or not. Please tell him exactly how to eat you out and hit him if he gets it wrong. he'll put your hands above your head and torture you with overstim if you move them, he loves the control.

humiliation play he loves to degrade you and make you cry, just grind you into the dirt and make you feel like shit and like you're lucky he's even putting his dick near you, what makes it all the better of course is that you are into it too.

public sex. He's so fucking nasty he wants everyone to know who you fucking belong to. He'll never actually get caught but it turns him on to think about it, you two have definitely gone at it in the locker rooms.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He loves to fuck you in the living room, just bend you over any and everything, and just go wild, honestly, there probably isn't a place in your apartment you haven't fucked.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

when you get out of the shower. your skin is dewy and kinda glows with the steam, he likes watching the water fall down your body and hey, you're already naked under that towel...

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Omi is just not into brat taming, he's just bad with brats. like you'll sass him and tell him "make me" and he's just lost because he thought that he was making you by asking.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He doesn't really like oral tbh it just doesn't get him going the same way fucking you does. but he absolutely loves going down on you, he loves how sensitive you are and how he can get you wet just by whipping his mouth.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

he tries so hard to go slow and pace himself but he loses himself almost instantly and just rams himself inside of you as fast and as hard as he can.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

he doesn't like them, the build-up is less and so is the reward, the only time he really likes Quickies is if you're sleepy but not quite asleep and need a quick orgasm to put you to sleep.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

he's pretty open about what he likes and he is willing to do what you're into if it's something he hasn't done before, and he certainly likes it when you are experiencing firsts but he's pretty hard set on his limits if he's already said no to something you won't be able to change his mind.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

stg I say this every time but these volleyball player motherfuckers have stamina for days. he could fuck you all night if that's what you want, anything for his baby.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

oh so many Omi loves toys, cuffs, gags, ropes, vibrators, plugs, everything you could imagine, and only about half of them are for you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

oh, he's a bastard. he will tease you for hours on end if you let him. He likes yo bring you to the edge of orgasm before stopping, over and over again until you're crying.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

not very loud in bed, his dirty talk is nasty but that's it until he's about to cum then he lets out this low breathy moan and Jesus Christ it gets you every time.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

one time he fucked you so hard that you start crying and he just sorta... licked your cheek? like lapped that tear right up and like you fucking wailed, it turned you both on so much. but neither of you talked about it afterwards so he's not sure if you really liked it or if he crossed a line, so he's like kinda dropped it, but god he wants to do it again so bad.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

uh big dick. long and curved upwards with a pretty pink tip. seven or so inches long and as thick as a fucking coke can uh I love him

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

pretty average, it seems like he only gets supper horny when he's away on over seas games you bet your ass that he ruins you when he gets home.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He's fine like maybe he's drained but he can wait up for you, he likes to cuddle after sex and he's more than happy if you fall asleep in his arms but he always waits for you to be asleep before he nods off.

#sakusa kyoomi x reader #sakusa x you #sakusa x reader #omi omi x reader #omi x reader #haikyuu!!#sakusa x reader smut

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andromedasstarship · 4 years ago

Note

i could not choose between 77-80 so i overbearingly ask u to use each of them with spencer reid if u wish 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

80. “Your comfort and happiness is more important to me than some stupid dinner.” + 77- “If you want to leave, we can leave.”

send a prompt + character from this list!

pairing - spencer reid x gn!reader

warnings - stress?? mostly fluff

a/n - tysm kenna for requesting this i love you and i loved writing this. i also went overboard on this one bye! ive also never posted something this long in an ask reply before so if this looks weird BYE!

Your car had long gone cold, but you still couldn’t find the energy to pull yourself out yet. It was futile to try and wrestle your emotions into a tightly sealed box; as soon as you crossed the threshold of the town-home you shared with Spencer, you knew he’d be able to read you like a book. Damn genius profiler skills.

Taking a quick look at the time you knew you had to suck it up and go inside; you were pushing how ‘late’ you could be without him worrying something had happened on your commute home. With a deep sigh, you grabbed your bag from the passenger seat and exited the car; taking your sweet time with locking the car behind you and digging your house keys out of the bottom of your bag.

To put it simply, it had been a difficult year. It was the final year of your Phd. program and while- all things considered- you had had an amazing time, the past few months had been both physically and mentally draining. What was once your lifelong passion had suddenly started to feel like a chore; a chore you felt you weren’t even good at anymore. Almost every day was spent either in your own classes or teaching undergrads. Almost every night was spent on the final edits of your thesis or grading work from your students. The few moments of freedom you found were spent doing the boring parts of adult life: housekeeping, getting your car fixed, calling elderly family members, etc.

Neither of you had formerly addressed it, but you knew it was taking a toll on your relationship. Spencer being busy was a constant, but it was normally balanced out by your typical 9-5 schedule. But recently, even on the nights he was home you’d be too wrapped up in your own work to even sit down and eat dinner with him. By the time you crawled into bed he’d be long asleep and in the mornings you’d been leaving for work earlier and earlier in order to get research time in at the university library. It felt like the two of you hadn’t even been awake in the same room for weeks, let alone do anything relationship-y.

Tonight was supposed to change that. Kind of. His team was having a fancy dinner to celebrate some major milestone that you couldn’t remember. It’d been on the books for months, but kept getting pushed back by surprise cases. It felt like everyone held their breath this week, waiting for a case to pop up, but instead everyone was left pleasantly surprised when no such thing happened. It was going to be a great night: classic Rossi pasta dish, all partners and kids invited. Even though the two of you wouldn’t be alone, it’d still be a perfectly good excuse to get out, put on some nice outfits and have a fun evening with friends.

Spencer had been particularly excited. The past week, you felt as if it was the only thing he ever talked about. Not that the two of you were having extensive conversations. He kept talking about how great it would be to get out of the house and how much he was looking forward to having a totally work free evening. His excitement warmed your heart.

Which is why you were taking so long to find your keys. Today had been one of the hardest day you’d experienced in a long time. The thesis meeting you had with your advisor- that you’d been staying up late every night editing for- had gone horribly; it was as if everything you prepared was wrong. Almost every student in the class you taught scored poorly on the latest assessment- on a unit you considered yourself an expert on-, something you viewed as a failure of your ability to convey the info. And to top it all off, even though you felt as if you’d spent hours upon hours working yourself to the bone the past week- in order to clear space for tonight-, you still felt as if you had piles of work to catch up on.

You knew the stress and tension of the day would read clear on your body as soon as Spencer got a look at you. And with how excited he’d been, you absolutely didn’t want to ruin the dinner. You’d hate for him to feel as if you were being selfish or that you couldn’t even prioritize him in your schedule.

You took one last deep breath, before going to put the key into the doorknob. Just as you touched the handle, the door swung open from the other side.

“Jesus!” You exclaimed, one hand clutching your chest as you nearly jumped out of your skin. In front of you was Spencer, smiling down at you with that irresistible grin of his.

“Did I scare you? Sorry. I thought I heard you car pull up earlier and when you didn’t come in I thought maybe something was wrong so I wanted to come check-”

You quickly cut him off- even though you did find his worrying a bit endearing- by pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

“A good song came on just as I pulled in, couldn’t just get out.” You lied, adding a small laugh for effect. It was an on brand situation for you, something certainly believable. If Spencer had any doubts, he didn’t question you, simply moved out of the doorframe so you could step in.

Inside the house, you set your bag down by the front door like you always did. While kicking your shoes off, you pulled your jacket off, smiling when Spencer had his hands already open to hang it on the rack. You knew he had that ridiculous memory- and you had a pretty set routine-, but it still made your heart swell every time he anticipated your next move and went the extra mile to be helpful.

“So, how was your day?" Spencer asked, as the two of you made your way to the kitchen area. “What’d Professor Addams have to say in your meeting?”

You clenched at the handle of the fridge, grinding your teeth before pulling the door open. When you turned to look at Spencer, you saw he made himself comfortable on one of the countertop stools.

“Went well. They gave me some uh, um, some comprehensive revisions.” You said flatly, turning back to face the fridge; missing the skeptical look Spencer was throwing you.

“That’s good?” He said slowly, before adding, “well how was class? You just wrapped up the last unit didn’t you?” You both knew he knew the answer, but was just attempting to further the conversation. Had it been any other day you would’ve found it endearing, but today just wasn’t that day.

You slammed the fridge door shut, just hard enough to be cause for concern. “I thought tonight was absolutely no shop talk. Huh? Why don’t we just start that rule now.” You said, a slight edge to your voice. It’s not his fault, it’s not his fault.

“Are you okay-”

“Yes! I just don’t-”

“If there’s something wrong, you know you can tell-”

“There’s nothing wrong-”

“Do you need to stay-”

“Stop!” You exclaimed, bringing an end to the constant cutting each other off. “Everything is fine. Okay?” You said, unable to maintain eye contact.

Spencer slowly nodded, though you could tell he didn’t believe an ounce of what you had just said. Luckily for you, he seemed to let it go, falling back in his seat.

“I’m gonna go shower and get ready and then we can leave, alright?” You asked rhetorically. When he just nodded again, you very quickly walked up to him and pressed another quick kiss to his lips. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

---

The ride to Rossi’s was silent, something that normally wouldn’t have bothered either of you had it not been for the borderline argument you had in the kitchen. As you pulled up a few cars down from the house, you caught Spencer staring at you from the passenger seat, a slightly concerned look on his face.

“Stop doing that.” You huffed out, but there was no real bite in your voice.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked gently, reaching out to push a piece of your hair away from your face. God that was sweet.

You quickly nodded and threw a very forced smile his way, not quite meeting his eyes. “I’m fine. I promise, come on.” You said, killing the engine and pushing open your car door.

Before you could fully open the door, Spencer’s arm shot out across your body and pulled the door back shut with a bang.

“Spencer!” You yelped, startled by his sudden movement. You turned and gave him a bewildered look.

“You always look over my head when you lie.” Spencer stated.

“Oh I do not-” You started, but letting the sentence fall flat as soon as you realized you currently were looking over his head.

“Your favorite song came on the radio, twice, on the drive here and you didn’t react at all either times.” He said. When you still didn’t say anything he continued. “What’s going on? You know you can tell me.”

The look he was giving you was making you feel all sorts of guilty. Of course he cared, that’s why you loved him so much. You just didn’t want to ruin something that’d been in the works for so long, all because you had a bad day.

“Spencer,” you started, giving him a very pointed look and making sure to hold eye contact, “I’m fine. Can we just go in?”

Spencer shook his head, externally searching your face for more clues while also internally thinking back to any clues from your kitchen fight. “We aren’t going anywhere, until you talk to me.” He urged.

It probably wasn’t the best move on his part, seeing as you both were incredibly stubborn. The two of you were unrelenting, both staring blankly at the other; hoping the other one would break first. After nearly 5 minutes of silence, it became very clear that neither of you were standing down anytime soon.

Spencer reached his hand out again, gently cupping your cheek; internally you cursed your body’s natural reaction to lean into his touch. “What’s going on?” He asked, voice much softer than earlier.

You were internally screaming over how caring he was. Damn him! You cursed yourself for not being able to just play the role of perfect partner for one night.

“I’m exhausted.” You said, voice quiet. “My meeting went horrible day. I absolutely failed at teaching my students the last unit. I’ve been bringing so much work back to the house I haven’t even been able to give you a second of attention. And now we have this dinner that you’ve been looking forward to for months and I don’t want to ruin-”

This time, it was Spencer that quickly cut off your rambles with a kiss.

“Do you want to leave?” He asked, as if it were the most simple thing ever

You gave him a shocked look. “Spencer, you’ve been talking about this dinner for weeks. I, I can’t ask you to put this off, you and the team rarely get time to-”

“If you want to leave, we can leave.” He said. His voice was so sincere it made the whole thing that much more difficult. He was too good.

“Spencer, no.” You said, putting special emphasis on the ‘no’. “We haven’t even walked in the door, there’s nothing to leave yet. I’m not going to ruin the dinner we’ve all been planning on for months. I’ll be fine for a couple hours.”

He didn’t answer, instead pulled his phone out and quickly started to type out a text.

“What are you doing?”

“Texting Rossi, I’m gonna tell him you aren’t feeling well and we can’t come anymore.”

“We’re outside his house! It’s not a big deal-!

“Your comfort and happiness is more important to me than some stupid dinner!” Spencer cut you off, giving you a very pointed look. You weren’t sure your heart could take the swelling much longer.

“Spencer, you’ve been planning-”

“I don’t want to hear it-”

“You’ve wanted to get out of the house for so long!” You stressed, giving him a ‘duh’ look.

“We can go do something else!” He replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Just us, no pressure to be ‘on’ in front of anyone else.” That did sound good- No!

“I’m not gonna be the one who keeps their boyfriend away from his friends-”

“I see them every day. Every day. One dinner means nothing.” Spencer said confidently, clasping your hand tightly between his.

You contemplated for what seemed like hours; though it couldn’t have been more than twenty seconds. “Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure of something in my life.” Spencer said, giving you a very mock serious look; you couldn’t help but laugh at that. “There you are.” He said, smiling to match yours.

You turned the car on, clicking your seatbelt back into place. “So, where to pretty boy?” You asked.

“Well, I heard of this new ice cream place that just opened up. Their ‘claim to fame’ is they make over 50 flavors in store every single day. Did you know on average it takes nearly three hours from start to finish to make a single batch of ice cream? Or that when ice cream-”

You shook your head in amusement, chancing a couple glances in his direction as you were driving. You loved his excited ramblings and animated hand motions as he further explained the history of ice cream; as well as all the random facts about the place he was directing you to. As you got closer to your new destination, all you could think about was how lucky you were to, to be loved by someone who always knew just what to say.

---

permanent tags - @sunflowersandotherthings

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer x reader #reid x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #'stori writes #kenna #'stori answers #spencer reid/you #spencer reid x you #spencer reid/reader #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer reid/gn!reader

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babyboy-cody · 4 years ago

Note

Hey, you probably won't see this but I see that your request are still open. May I request one with the foursome? they are Neglecting the reader like making excuses to not spend time with her or not making love to her but she hears them making love to each other. They all decided to go to a fancy party they left the reader at the bar by herself when she ready to go home she sees them flirting with another girl calling her pet names and she sees Jim kissing her and touching her. The reader goes home crying her eyes out thinking they don't love her and she becomes depressed the more they keep neglecting her the more she becomes depressed and they notice and they try to make things right with her. I know this is long u don’t have to write it. This idea has been on my mind for a while.

oh this completely broke me :(( i’m gonna make this extremely angsty so FAIR WARNING. this will not have a happy ending,,,,,, i’m mean that way >:) this is gonna be vvveeeeerrrryyyyy looonnnggggggg.

word count: 6,249 fucking words

You’re not sure how long it’s been; days, weeks, maybe months. Somehow, in some way, it felt like an eternity. Without their touch, you weren’t sure how to keep yourself grounded and away from the darkness etched in your mind. Without simple praises falling from their lips like a soft melody, you weren’t sure how to build yourself up when you’re constantly falling down. Without their beautiful eyes set on you as if you were the most precious diamond in the entire world, you weren’t sure how to even feel worthy again. All you felt was pain - that deep, emotional, excruciating pain that seemed to follow you everywhere you went, whether you liked it or not. This was hell for you. You’re not sure what you did to end up in your own personal hell, but this was it. And you wanted to get out one way or another.

This loneliness is a vice on your heart, squeezing with just enough pressure to be a constant pain. It kills you everyday just a little bit more, taking what was once your inner light and replacing it with a darkness that overshadows each moment. It is the fuel of your nightmares, the reason you struggle to breathe when a new shock comes. Where is the limit? When comes the point at which dogs are called off and the help begins? Because you need to know; you really need to know.

Today was like no other. It was just a repetitive cycle like yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that, and the day before that. You tried desperately to get something from them; a hug, a kiss, a pat on the back, a fucking handshake. You needed them so that it quells your mind that they don’t want you anymore, that they have no need to keep you around. It was pure torture.

Duncan was lounging in the living room, knocking back a small glass of his favorite Whiskey - one that you bought for him that traveled all the way from Sweden. His eyes were trained on the television mounted above the fireplace, his feet propped up on the glass table and crossed at the ankles. He didn’t turn his head when you entered, but you noticed his shoulders tensed as if he were holding his breath.

“Dunc?” You quietly spoke. “Um.. I was wondering if you’d like to go out with me tonight? Just you and me?” You were fiddling with your fingers, a nervous habit they all stopped you from continuing, but you picked it up again. You scraped at the skin in the corners of your fingernails and barely reacted when you looked down and saw blood.

“Can’t,” was his response.

“Oh..” you whispered, feeling your heart plummet to the pit of your stomach as your neck and cheeks warmed with embarrassment. “M-May I ask why?”

“I’m busy, Y/N,” he sighs and does the thing when he’s frustrated and rubs his hand over his jaw.

You nodded wordlessly, swallowing down a small whimper of emotional pain and left the living room. When you got to the hallway, you pressed your back against the wall and hid your face in your hands. “Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry,” you hissed to yourself, feeling that little tickle in your nostrils and the lump in your throat getting larger and more painful. You sniffled and stared at your feet. Your vision was getting increasingly blurry, the moments of Duncan’s rejection etched in your mind, mocking you for being so pathetic. “No, I’m not,” you whimpered. So very pathetic.

When you were able to calm down again, you gently wiped away your tears and hiccuped a few shaky breaths. Trudging up the steps slowly, you felt a bit of hope when you heard Michael in his office, wondering if he was typing away at his computer as always. You walked the agonizingly long hallway, twiddling your fingers again. You heard his quiet laughter, followed by the low hum of his voice, although you couldn't make out what he was saying or who was talking to. You knocked three times and slowly pushed the door open, gasping softly as you witnessed what was in front of you.

Jim was wearing one of his baggy college sweaters which was bunched at the bottom around his hips. He sat on Michael's lap straddling him, the same way you would always do. Their lips were locked in a deep kiss, Jim's moans so soft and barely a whisper. You felt a sick feeling in your stomach when you noticed how naked he was below. How long has it been since Jim and Michael touched you? Duncan? At this point, you couldn't even remember when the last time was.

Feeling a presence behind you, you sharply turned and spotted Duncan. You blushed as he looked down at you. He got closer now, close enough for you to feel the warmth radiating from his body and the smell of his intoxicating cologne. He stepped into the doorway and into Michael's office. You looked up at him with hopeful eyes, wondering if they were going to invite you as well. You missed their pleasure filled touch. As you were about to step in as well, Duncan blocked whatever was left of the entrance with his body and the door, as he was holding onto the doorknob to avoid you coming in.

"Maybe next time," he told you in a monotone voice. And with that, he shut the door and locked it. Hearing that lock click so you wouldn't come in felt like a punch in the gut. You staggered back as if you were knocked in the face by Mike Tyson himself. Everything around you feels like it's going in slow motion. Your breathing sounds like an echo in your ears as you begin to hear a high pitched ringing. Your breathing is shallow and rapid, the early signs of an anxiety attack. You grabbed onto the wall as you begun to feel extremely dizzy.

"No, no, no, please no," you weakly cried out as you reached your room. "Not now. Not again." You felt so pathetic and weak. You slammed your door and hurried to your dresser as you began to wheeze, desperate to get in an even breath. You pulled out your inhaler, shaking it for a brief moment, popping the cap off and sticking the tube into your mouth to breath in the carbonated medicine. Almost instantly, you felt your lungs open up. You panted softly and outstretched your legs on the ground.

"What's wrong with me?" You weeped quietly, not able to hold in your cries anymore and finally letting the dam break. You're not sure what caused the change in your relationship, but you desperately wanted things to go back to normal.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

You have always loved the flowers and the birds, loved the sunlight and the clouds that drift on by. You have always loved the way the leaves move in a breeze and that soft whispering sound they make, like nature loves to chatter too. Yet the tiredness that begun a while ago remains like a veil over your skin, grey and cold. And as you watch the petals and the twigs that sway outside the window, there is only a creeping sorrow where there should be joy. It sits like November rain on your skin, enough to chill what was once warm inside. At any other time you would have spoken to the guys, asked for the warmth you needed to ward it off, just a little is enough. No longer. Now you just let it come, drop by drop and you feel like it's an ocean falling upon you instead of rain - that the grief of years you carefully suspended has all condensed right above your head into a cloud large enough to block the sun. They say it can't rain forever, that there will come a time when it must cease, that the last drop will have fallen. Thing is, you just don't care. You'll still be true to yourself, still help others, but you plan to just stay here in the cold, comfortably numb.

When the tears weren't even half way done, you were empty. You couldn't have cried even if you wanted to. You hadn't experienced this feeling in a long time. The sadness was still there, but not raw anymore – now it was an empty unhappiness - the kind you didn't think would easily lift. You felt like Michael, Duncan, or even Jim could surprise you with the cutest kitten on earth and you wouldn't feel a thing. You stared around yourself as if you were in a pit. Your surroundings were exactly the same, but they gave you no emotion. How could that be? You needed emotion to feel alive, to feel love.

There was a knock at your door, but you didn't respond. You continued staring out the window with a blank expression, your eyes dead and your lips in a slight frown. It was raining. You loved the rain. You remembered when you and Jim had ran outside one spring afternoon and jumped into puddles while laughter filled the air. If you focused your eyes well enough, you can probably see the raindrops sliding down the leaves.

"Y/N?" You felt a hand on your shoulder, pulling you from your thoughts. You sat in a daze, completely silent as rain continued to slap against the window. You looked at the hand and then up at the culprit. "Hey, can you hear me?"

"Hm.." you hummed low and looked around your surroundings. You looked back outside and breathed against the window, watching as frosty condensation forms on the glass. "Hi Jim."

The way you spoke worried Jim deeply. You spoke with zero emotion, as if you were a robot with no feelings at all. You had an empty look in your eyes when you looked up at him. He didn't even recognize you. Your reaction to his words were so delayed and monotonous. You were always so bright and bubbly and cheerful. But now, your responses were, "oh" "um" "hm.." "okay."

"We're going to a party tonight for Duncan's company. Michael wants us all to go, okay?" He told you, stuffing his hands in his pockets as his main focus was on you. "You down for dressing up all fancy?" He had a teasing tone in his voice, but you didn't react to it. All you said was, "Okay, Jim" in that same blank tone. He's not sure what was wrong with you, but he chose not to say much else. He nods wordlessly and leaves your room, not without sparing you one last glance, one that you didn't reciprocate. You still had that thousand yard stare out the window.

As he walks down the long steps, he hears soft murmurs of Michael and Duncan’s voice in the kitchen. When he enters, he smells the delicious steak Michael was currently cooking in a skillet pan. It sizzles and smokes, making his mouth instantly water. Duncan’s leaning against the counter adjacent to the blonde man, nursing down a glass of iced water with lemon - shockingly. They stop their conversation when Duncan notices Jim standing by the large kitchen island, his arms crossed and a wary look on his face.

“What’s wrong, Jimmy?” Duncan immediately crosses over and placed his cold hands over his cheeks. “What’s got you looking so beaten up?”

“Something’s wrong with Y/N,” he quietly tells him, a soft sigh escaping his lips. “She’s... different. Not good different. It’s just... different.”

“Different how?” Michael turned suddenly and seemed interested in the conversation.

“She just wasn’t... there. It was like she was out of it and it was fucking scary,” Jim practically whimpered. “Are you sure we should be doing this? I-I don’t think it’s a good idea anymore.”

“Listen, we all already agreed with it, so we might as well continue with the plan, alright? The least she can do is understand where we’re coming from,” Michael reasoned, lightly calming down the young man.

All three men prepared dinner while you sat in the bath tub with boiling hot water pouring onto like no other. Compared to the cold rain outside, this type of rainfall felt so fucking excruciating and peaceful. The pain etched all over your sensitive skin was what you needed. With your knees tucked to your chest and your chin resting on them, you stared ahead in a blank state, barely acknowledging how hot the water really was. You hummed quietly when there was a knock on the door, followed by the wooden barrier opening.

“Jesus Christ,” Michael hissed as he was immediately enveloped in hot steam, barely seeing the shower or himself in the large mirror beside him. “Y/N? Are you in here?” He spots your rumbled pile of clothes on the ground, and he sees your shadow behind the shower curtain. “What the fuck?” He rips open the shower curtain and takes note of your bright red skin. “Are you out of your fucking mind?!” He furiously goes to shut off the water, yanking his head back as he briefly touches the scorching knob. He reaches down to grab your shirt, wrapping it around the knob to turn the water off completely.

“I like hot showers,” you mumbled and never removed your blank stare from the tiles in front of you. “They feel... they feel... hm... good.” You nodded to yourself.

Michael now knew what Jim was talking about. This robotic state you were in was something he has never seen before. He wrapped a soft towel around your extremely warm shoulders and helped you out of the tub - the way you moved was like you were working on autopilot. There was no smooth glide in your movements like you usually had. It was rocky and uncoordinated, almost robotic. You sat on the toilet seat, not caring of your nudity before Michael. You were usually shy and hid away with a blushing smile, something Michael always loved teasing you about. You would always swat at his hand when he would - so very gently - trace your stretch marks. You didn’t even look up at him as he dried you off.

“We’re going to a party tonight. I’m sure Jimmy told you the details, right?” He looked down at you for a response, but all you did was stare ahead emotionless and in silence. He clears his throat. “I got everyone clothes to wear, so I left yours on your bed. Dinner’s ready downstairs.”

“Not hungry,” you whispered just barely, but Michael heard you perfectly clear. “Just gonna go... lie down for a bit.” It was quiet again as you fully wrapped yourself in the towel. You nodded to yourself and hummed softly, slowly standing from your seat and walking passed Michael in a trance-like state. He watched in the hallway as you made your way to your room and shut the door without sparing him another glance. He sighed softly and looked back into the bathroom, the leftover heat now gone and replaced with a soft mist.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

The drive to the event/party felt like an eternity. You sat in the backseat with Jim. All three men spoke to one another while Duncan drove. You were looking out the window, your eyes moving frantically to watch the street lamps pass by in a flash. You counted quietly to yourself with each car that passed. So far there’s been two cars every four minutes, so it seems. Jim was keeping an eye on you, watching as your lips moved like you were lip syncing to a song in your head. But it looked like your lips were barely parting to form a coherent word. It just looked like whispers, as if you were telling secrets to someone of the unknown. You looked down at your nails and scraped at the peeling skin. So pathetic.

“No,” you mumbled. “No, no, no.” Your voice was so quiet that a pin dropping can even be heard. You’re not sure when the guys ended their conversation or when the car stopped, but a hand touching your elbow pulled you from your thoughts.

“We’re here,” Duncan told you with a tight lipped smile, one that was obviously fake and strained.

You carefully exited the SUV, being careful of the bottom of your silky, champagne colored dress. You tightened the slip around your shoulders and chest when Michael wrapped an arm around your back to lead you towards the entrance. There were lots of people, too many people. The noise. The loud noise. It’s too loud. So very loud; the overexcited laughing, the clinking and scraping of metal silverware against delicate glass, the boisterous music. It’s so fucking loud. You winced when a man’s shoulder roughly knocked into yours when he was in a deep conversation with another man. This was a bad idea, so very bad. You turned to tell Michael that you were already not liking this, but he was nowhere to be seen. Neither was Jim or Duncan. All three of them somehow disappeared and left you in the crowd.

You stifled a whimper and bit your bottom lip as you desperately stood on your tippy toes to try to look over the heads of so many business men, business women, or anyone in between. They bumped into you, not caring to apologize. You heard that familiar ringing in your ears again. All the noise you heard, all the laughter and music and conversation, sounded like it was in a tunnel. That echo that seemed so far away. You spotted a bar in the corner of the main hall and hurried over, silently thanking whoever was above when the seats were empty. The bartender acknowledged you and gave you a nod.

“What can I get you?” He leaned in close to hear you, a small hand towel resting on his shoulder.

“Um.. a strawberry lemonade, please?” You quietly told him, still looking back in hopes of spotting your men, hoping that they spotted you as well.

You can hear the sloshing of ice as the bartender made your drink. You were nervously picking at your fingers again, your face set in a grimace at the amount of people pouring in. You felt sick in your stomach. You felt... alone. Your drink was set on a napkin in front of you, all pretty and a mix of pink and red. You thanked him so very softly that he had to lean in to hear you. You reached into your small clutch and pulled out a $20. “Keep the rest,” you told him and took a small sip.

“I appreciate it, miss.” He gave you a smile and moved on to an eager and very drunk customer at the end of the bar.

You gnawed at your bottom lip, pulling at the thin protective skin with your teeth, barely wincing from the sting. Your eyes were frantically scanning the entire room, trying to see that familiar head of long blonde hair of Michael, of that neatly styled hair of Duncan, or that soft fringe of Jim. You sighed defeatedly and looked down at your drink, feeling so very unworthy and unwanted as laughter echoed all around you. Why did you even come? You knew it was pointless, didn’t you?

“What did I do wrong?” You whispered so weakly to yourself, resting your elbow on the bar top as your forehead rests on your hand. “Fucking stupid.”

Your drink was almost empty as you swirled your ice around with your striped paper straw. The little paper umbrella toothpick was discarded neatly on a napkin. You swiped your fingers on the condensation left from your glass. You drew a small smiley face, but soon wiped it away with the napkin. You looked up to do one last sweep with your eyes when suddenly, you saw the back of Michael’s head. You knew it was him because of the dark red velvet suit jacket he was wearing. Beside him was Duncan, and both men were grinning and talking to someone in front of them. You hoped it was Jim. And it was Jim. But they weren’t alone.

Clinging to his arm stood a pretty woman, so dainty and bright, yet there was a certain fire to her that you didn’t have. You watched as she probably said something snarky to Michael that had him throwing his head back in a laugh. Duncan was grinning like a cat that got the cream. Jim was staring her down like a hungered man. Then, it happened. It was so fast, but it felt like slow motion as it repeats over and over and over and over again in your head. She was clutching onto his tie, pulling him down desperately as they kissed so deeply, with such passion you haven’t had in so long. What hurt the most was that Duncan and Michael watched. They had grins on their faces, the same ones they had when Jim would do the same to you. You swallowed down a gasp as your eyes watered. You read Michael’s lips as he spoke to her. All you can make out was, “Dove.” That was your name. You can feel an ache spread from your chest to your stomach and back up to your chest. You covered your mouth to stifle an excruciating cry.

The pain increased with every step you took towards the exit. You held the bottom of your dress to not trip over, your tears warm and quick down your cheeks, for sure leaving mascara tracks. You hurried down the steps and turned the corner, passing through the beautiful garden you failed to notice earlier. When you were out of sight from other people, you dropped to your knees and pressed your hands into the grass. Your shoulders shook as you desperately tried to breathe, but every time you breathed it was a painful gasp and hiccup.

“Why? Why? Why? Why me? Why? What did I do? What did I do wrong, God? Please, tell me, why?” You cried and brought your hands together in a praying motion, crying up at the sky above. “Please, tell me! And I’ll change! Just tell me, why?”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

Self control is a finite resource because the part of the brain exerting control gets tired - it requires energy and that gets depleted. So, the repressing of anger needs careful thought. If it is boiling up, how will it be cooled? If it explodes, whom bares the brunt? Because they psyche under seige will naturally seek a more vulnerable (hence "safe") person to explode at. Stress bubbles down to less dominant people in a society where the more powerful have reduced ability to handle their anger and stress. Thus, how you deal with your anger is vital. It is as steam in a pressure cooker, you have to find a way to let it out in a safe manner. That can be through physical activity or by finding inner peace, or often a combination of the two. Sport releases the need for self control, finding inner peace expands your endurance and ability for self control. As such, they are a winning combination.

But now.. you’re not sure you have that same self control you had a while back. You felt nothing, hence you did nothing. You just laid there hoping that it’ll pass. Feeling empty and feeling tired have such a strong connection to one another that you need to fully rest before you can figure out what is what. But even rest is tiring. There is a silence to your soul; you’re fall leaves under frost. You feel the chill in your blood, coldness bringing the synapses of your brain to a stand still. Part of it is a pain, yet one you can endure, one you can sleep through night after night without the anaesthesia of false hope. This is your winter; you wait for spring and the chattering of the birds. But it never comes.

It’s been a month. One whole month since you’ve witnessed the cause of your shattered heart. It wasn’t broken and able to piece back together. It was completely shattered into dust. You relived in constantly in your conscious and unconscious state. It replayed like a broken record over and over and over again. The moment was in your dreams, nightmares, and thoughts. When you had gotten home that night, you stood in complete silence before finally uttering that long, heart-wrenching scream that strained your vocal cords. You had fallen to the ground, unable to keep yourself standing any longer and screamed and screamed and screamed until you couldn’t scream anymore. You were already in bed by the time the guys had gotten home. Only Jim called your phone, but you let it ring. They didn’t check up on you. They just left you there, broken.

You lie awake in bed, watching as the rain fell and pelted against the window in a gently melody. It brought your spirits just slightly, but it soon washed away in an instant. You contemplated on taking your medication again, the ones that made you feel good, but you’d rather punish yourself with this overpowering feeling of emptiness. You didn’t deserve to feel good. You deserved the pain thrown at you emotionally.

You’re not sure what time it was, but there was still light out. It couldn’t be no more than two in the afternoon. You heard clatter coming from downstairs, followed by a mix of deep voices. You continued staring out the window, wishing you were enveloped in nothing but darkness. There was a knock at your door, following the small creak of it opening. Well, this was a first.

“Dove?” Michael quietly called out. “Are you awake?”

He watched as your breathing was steady, your back facing him as you were huddled underneath the covers. You didn’t respond to him, but you knew that he knew you were awake. He sighed quietly and stepped around your bed to get closer to you, sitting on the edge of the bed to lower the covers in order to see you.

You didn’t look at him, instead keeping your eyes on the window with a blank expression. He noticed the really dark circles under your eyes and your sickly complexion. He noticed how much weight you’ve lost, and he wondered when was the last time you ate. He hadn’t seen you in the kitchen in so long because it was Jim who tried to coax you to join them for breakfast and dinner.

“Come downstairs and eat,” he told you, tugging on your arm gently, but you slowly pulled it away and tucked it under the covers again. He frowned.

“Not hungry,” you hoarsely whispered. “Just go away, Michael.” You shut your eyes as a small tear rolled down your temple. “Please... just leave.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but his attention turned to the doorway where Jim and Duncan stood. They both shook their heads as the youngest of the two frantically waved his hand in a “come here” motion. Michael glanced at you one last time and stood up with a small sigh. When he left the room and shut the door, they all stood in a small circle.

“She’s getting worse,” Duncan mumbled and rubbed his jaw frustratedly.

“I knew this was a bad fucking idea, Michael,” Jim hissed. “I never wanted to do this. You wanted to do this. And we were so stupid to go along with it because you made us believe that we needed something new in our lives.”

“It was a suggestion, Jim,” Michael told him, holding a hand out to calm the frantic man. “I just thought -”

“Yeah,” Jim cut him off. “You thought it would make things better. Now look at her. She’s fucking falling apart because of us.” He whimpered and pressed his hands against his eyes to roughly rub his tears away.

He walked away in a hurry, mentally beating himself up for falling victim to Michael’s words. What was he thinking? Needing something new? He didn’t need new, he needed you. When he kissed and flirted and had his hands on that girl, all he was thinking about was you. He wasn’t thinking how bad the outcome could’ve been.

Duncan stared at Michael silently with his arms crossed. “We need to make this right,” he told the blonde man. “This was a reckless and unthinkable thing we could’ve done, and now we’re paying the price.”

“I know,” Michael mumbled and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I just wanted our relationship to take a next level of something exciting.”

“Exciting?” Duncan scoffed. “We pushed her away. We neglected her constantly. We haven’t touched her, let alone kissed her in, what, almost two months? It’s just... we should’ve brought her into the loop as well.”

“I know,” Michael stressed. “Look, we’ll fix this. We always do.”

Except, the damage was already done. There was nothing too fix. You were a hallow shell of a human, of what was left of you. You were nothing but a faint, forgotten memory.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

You rest eyes upon the leaves, fluttering in the garden. In the light of day you could never tell of the storm they had suffered the night before, of the winds that howled and tore their brethren from branches to ground. They reflected the soft sun rays, gave off their colors with that quiet joy nature sings of, that silent music you love to hear. Yet you also saw the plucked leaves, swirling in the gusting wind, the subtle “tells” of the hardship only recently passed. In that moment you wondered what people would make of you. Would they see “tells” of your storm? The way your eyes were slow and mouth heavy at the corners? Would they see the tears un-cried? And if they did, if they saw that emotional debris, knowing how the grief hurricane returns over and over, would they shine for you like the sun on the trees or treat you like you were on the other side of glass, ensuring that your storm never chilled their own skin, much less clipped at their souls. You wondered.

Tightening your chunky cardigan over your body as a chill passed, you smiled and closed your eyes as you smelled the freshly cut grass and rainwater. Everything was peaceful, as it should be. Your bare feet was buried in the soft tuts of bright green grass, your toes wiggling as you giggled at the tickling sensation. Afternoon crickets chirped and birds sung sweet songs in the trees. You felt at peace with yourself. Michael, Duncan, and Jim were away. You’re not sure where, but they had left a note telling you the time they should be back. The trunk and backseat of your car were filled with boxes and trash bags of your things. It was time to let go and be free, as much as it pained you to do so. As much as you tried to forget about that incident, it was tattooed in the back of your mind permanently.

You entered the house and shut the back door, making sure it was locked and the window shades were down. You walked around slowly, savoring the last of moments inside. Every room you were in, you remembered something good or bad that happened. Every moment of passionate love making, every laugh, every argument, every cry, every kiss. You would be forever grateful in in experiencing these things because without it, you weren’t sure how strong you’d be compared to now.

You heard the small beep of the alarm unlocking and the front door opening. You swallowed down a small, nervous breath and nodded to yourself. Everything’s going to be okay, you thought. You entered the large dining room where the three stood. Jim looked defeated, Duncan looked confused, and Michael... he looked broken.

“We saw your car...” Duncan began, but Jim cut him off instantly.

“Where are you going?” He mumbled softly and took a tiny step forward, shuffling his feet side to side, not knowing what to do in this moment.

“Um... I’m leaving,” you quietly told them. “I did a lot of thinking these passed two months and I’ve come to a realization that I’m not cut out for this.” Michael opened his mouth to speak up, but you held a hand out to silence him. “Listen to me, please. I loved you, all of you. I loved and I gave and I was taken for granted. And the only person to build myself back up again was... me.”

“Why are you talking like this so suddenly?” Michael spoke up, brows furrowing as he struggled to understand your words.

“I saw what happened, at the party. And I know that, maybe, I wasn’t someone you wanted and I know how difficult I can be and I know I have some unresolved issues I need to work on to become better,” your voice cracked and you sniffled as your looked down at your hands with blurry eyes. “And I’m sorry I couldn’t give you what you wanted.”

“No,” Duncan whispered brokenly. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.” He angrily shook his head, eyes blazing with a building rage. “You-You can’t leave.”

“Duncan,” you whispered softly and stepped up to him, resting your hands on his scruffy cheeks as a lonesome tear rolls down, pooling over your thumbs. “I have to go. You have to let me go.”

He shook his head as the dam finally breaks. “No...” His voice was completely broken, eyes filled with so much pain and anger. “Please...”

You stepped away and sniffled. You looked over at Jim and gave him a sad smile. His bottom lip was trembling so badly that he had to bite down on it to make it stop. He was rubbing the back of his neck continuously, a tell tale sign of frustration and panic.

“Jimmy,” you quietly said. “You’re gonna have to let me go as well, okay? Can you do that for me?”

He shook his head and exhaled a shuddering breath. “I-I can’t... I...” He couldn’t even speak. He just stared at you in desperation, wishing and hoping that you’d change your mind and stay with them like you all promised.

And finally, you looked at Michael - the first man you ever loved and who introduced you to Duncan and Jim. You would forever be thankful that you had the opportunity to fall in love with these men, but sadly, these opportunities must come to an end.

“What can I do to make things right, dove?” He begged, something he’s never done before and it’s such a shock to you. “Tell me what to do.”

“There’s nothing that can be done to make things right, Michael,” you told him gently as you shook your head. “I think this was the final straw that I really needed to get out, and I really hope that you all have a good life ahead of you. I love you and I always will love you deep down in my heart, and I’ll never forget you three.” You gave them a sad smile. “I guess this is goodbye,” your voice cracked just a little bit.

You looked at them one last time before moving through the hallway and towards the front door. You swung the strap of your bag around your shoulder and dug inside for your keys. You pulled out the house key from the ring and placed it on the small table that had a stack of mail, a little bowl with Jim and Duncan’s keys, a long vase with lilies - your favorite flower, and a picture. It was of you, Duncan, Jim, and Michael the minute you all had moved in. There were bright smiles on your faces, even Michael. Things were so much better back then; when things were simpler. You heard faint crying coming from the dining room, and you wondered who it was, if you should go back to console them. But you knew if you did, you would stay.

As you left the house, you studied it with a small smile. You’ll never forget the endless memories inside and out. This wasn’t just a house, it was a home. “Goodbye, home,” you whispered and placed your hand on the banister.

After the long days of being so alone, the pain ebbed. You thought you would feel the knives in your back forever, the long blades slicing into such sensitive flesh. There were days your brain felt electrocuted, so violently defocused and the pain, the emotional pain, was all so encompassing you simply existed as a matter of will power. They say people come out of these things stronger, and you guess that's true, but you come out wiser too. You still have your loving heart, you’re proud to say. You still have your idealism and courage. You still take forward leaps whether you can see the ground or not. But this heart, it's not for everyone, it's not for the ones who threw the knives.

But this? This isn’t the end. It’s the start of a new chapter. You’re not sure where you’ll end up, but you’re sure you’ll pass the next level. Alone or not.

#OH MY GOD THIS FUCKING BROKE ME #i had so much fun writing this #thank you so much to the anon that requested it #i’m not sure if this is a happy ending oorrrr????#i love angst #more angsty foursome #michael x duncan x jim x reader

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beanst0ck · 4 years ago

Text

—NSFW Alphabet with Bokuto Koutarou

note: lmao me and @parttime-simp were talking about this while playing something and someone kept trying to get our attention but we were too invested in bokuto’s thighs

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

The absolute sweetest. He’ll ask you if you’re ok, how if he was too rough etc. He’ll be really cuddly afterwards, wanting nothing more than to just hold you in his arms, but if you wanna take a bath he’ll run over and make sure the temperature is just right then hop in with you. Expect lots of kisses and cuddling.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

I’d say he loves his arms because he gets to wrap you in them and hold you tightly while nuzzling his face into your neck. He also loves his thighs because the face you make while coming undone from riding them nearly makes him cum.

Loves your hips, mostly because he gets to hold them while you ride him. He also loves your stomach, especially if you’re on the chubbier side! He doesn't care if you have stretch marks or any other kind of scar, he still finds you extremely wonderful.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He’ll ask before doing so, but he loves coming on your stomach or on your face. Just seeing it on you will get him going again, so expect another round.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

I don’t think he has a dirty secret? He’s pretty open about anything and everything with you.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Not very experienced. He’s had maybe one relationship before you, but he didn’t go far with the person because they couldn’t handle his energy. The first couple of times you did it there were some issues. He may not know exactly what to do at first which caused him to sulk but after comforting and praising him Bokuto grew confident with you and learned quickly what you liked and didn’t like.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Doggy style, cowgirl, and missionary, but he especially loves any position where he gets to see your face. He wants to see you come undone by him. The way your face scrunches up in the pleasure he’s giving you, yea he loves that. Also loves it when you top him too, he’ll be a great power bottom.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He will most definitely crack a couple of jokes while doing it unless the moment is really heated. He wants you to be comfortable, and he knows you usually respond happily to his jokes so he’ll say a couple if he notices you’re not in the best mood.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

The carpet does not match the drapes, it’d be concerning if he dyed his pubes gray. Before he was with you he didn’t trim or anything, but once he got with you he started taking more care of himself down there.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

While yes he can be goofy, he can also be very intimate. In the beginning there’ll be a couple of giggles, but once things start getting more heated you can literally feel the mood shift. He absolutely loves kissing your lips and feeling you grind down on him. He’ll also lay you down and leave a trail of kisses down your body.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Before you two got into a relationship he watched porn, but once you two got together he stopped because he wasn’t into it anymore. He’d much rather cum with you than to some other girl.

The only time he’ll masturbate while in a relationship with you is if you’re far away or if you’re too busy to give him attention. Even then it doesn’t feel the same and he’ll beg you to spare him some attention. Please give him attention.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Praise- He loves it when you praise him. If he’s ever in a sulky mood just compliment him and he’ll instantly perk up. While doing it if you praise him his grip on you will tighten and he’ll speed up his pace. Hell, moan in his ear and watch how his eyes turn dark with lust.

Body worship- He’ll praise your body so much, especially if he knows you’re insecure. He wants you to know he loves you so much and he thinks your body is so beautiful and you shouldn’t think otherwise.

Thigh riding- Like I said in the beginning, bokuto would just love to see you ride his thigh. Will get off just seeing you cum on his thigh.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He likes doing it in your home, makes him feel like he doesn’t have to hold back as much and he gets to hear you more. But, he will fuck you wherever in said home. Please put away anything breakable or else you’ll lose track of how many times you’ve broken something.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Seeing you with something of his own (jersey, hoodie, etc) with nothing underneath, but thigh high socks. Show him your thighs and he will melt, he loves that little pudge that sticks out when wearing thigh high socks at the top the most, it drives him crazy. Along with that, praising him also gets him going. Compliment his skills and how good he is and he will do whatever you want.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He’s willing to try anything and everything with you, but I have a feeling he wouldn’t be too into degrading you.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He loves receiving, but he also loves giving. Hearing the sounds you make and the way you moan out his name are worth it. He’s not that good, but his enthusiasm makes up for it.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Depending on the mood he can go both ways. Most of the time though he’ll be fast and rough, occasionally leaving bruises on your hips. Other times he’ll be really sweet, giving you gentle kisses and holding your hand while thrusting into you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Not a big fan, he likes to take his time being with you. With quickies he doesn’t feel fully satisfied and he always finds himself wanting more, especially if it’s right before practice or a game, but he will not deny a quickie if it’s been awhile and the both of you are needy.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He’s willing to experiment with some things, if you wanted to try something he’s not gonna say no because 1. he might enjoy it and 2. he wants to see you happy. Now for risks, is is not afraid of taking risks. He’s willing to risk fucking you in the locker room before practice as long as you’re ok with it.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Being with an athlete has its perks, one of them is this boy has stamina.. and lots of it. He can last a long while before tiring out, especially if he’s excited to be with you because he wants to please you.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Probably wouldn’t mention it unless you brought it up first, in which case he’ll try them out on you. At first he thinks he won’t like it but once he sees you squirming and moaning in pleasure he immediately changes his mind. Don’t expect to cum using them though, he’d much rather make you cum himself.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

If you tease him he wouldn’t be able to handle it. He’s too impatient and wants to get right down to the point. If you tease him before or during practice he will lose his mind and either you’ll have a fun time once practice is over or he’ll pull you into the closet for a quickie, promising a round two once he’s free.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He is not, I repeat not, afraid to hold back his groans. He’s loud and he knows it too. If anyone confronts him about hearing him doing it with you he’ll just go “oops” and promise to be quieter next time which.. doesn’t work out. He’s loud unless you two are in a public area. When that happens he’ll bite down on your shoulder or hide his where in the crook of your neck to muffle his moans.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Didn't realize he had a dump truck until you pointed it out. He then proceeded to ask his teammates if they thought he had a dump truck, to which they all responded with “yes”.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He’s above average, around 7 inches with a bit of girth to it which feels extremely nice when he’s stretching you out. He’s gentle as to not hurt you unless you tell him to don’t mind the pain.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

During the beginning of your relationship his sex drive was low and whenever he was feeling something he held himself back because he didn’t want to pressure you. Once you guys do it once though, that changed and he found himself thinking about you more often. He couldn’t get enough of you and he found himself craving you more and more. Expect to get railed by this man at least four times a week if his schedule allows it.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He uses up a lot of energy while doing it, so he’s out like a light as soon as you two finish. But he loves having pillow talk with you afterwards so sometimes he’ll fight off the sleep just to talk to you. If anything your voice will be the thing that puts him to sleep.

haikyuu mlist

reblogs are greatly appreciated :)

#bokuto x reader #bokuto koutarou #hq bokuto #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #hq headcanons #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#bean’s spice

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lunatens · 4 years ago

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just wanna be with you

requested by anon <3 tysm lovely!! sorry this is suuuuper cheesy lol, i hope u like it!! also sorry if there are mistakes, i didn’t really edit it much >_<

prompt: “out of everyone on earth, why did my soulmate have to be you?”

*part of my 2 years with luna event!

word count: 1.9k

genre: fluff, high school au, soulmate au, maybe a little bit of angst? (mc has some ✨trust issues✨)

pairing: han jisung x gn reader

“y/n!!!!! happy birthday!!” a loud voice resonates through the cafeteria. you groan, wishing you could vanish from the face of the earth as all eyes turn to either you or the source of the yelling--a boy who you would really, really rather not be seeing right now. you tug on your sleeve to make sure your forearm is covered before you feel someone slide into the seat beside you, and you don’t even bother turning your head to see who it is. han jisung, your school’s resident funny popular boy who gets along with any and everyone.

everyone except you, that is. his class clown personality only irritates you; you’re sure it’s all just an act to get people to like him or something. plus, he must be the most annoying person on the entire planet. every time you just want to sit by yourself and read or scroll through social media, there’s jisung to interrupt you. in fact, even when you’re with your friends he finds a reason to approach you and try and draw your attention towards him. your friends say you’re just in denial of your real feelings towards him, and you find yourself mentally puking at the thought. okay, you think he’s maybe kinda cute (not that you’d ever admit that to anyone) but that’s just more of a reason to despise him, right??

it’s no secret to anyone that jisung has a huge crush on you; for over a year now he’s tried everything in the book to get you to go out with him. nevertheless, his advances are always shot down. minho’s tried to get you to at least give him a chance, but he’s long given up his efforts. see, no matter what anyone says, you know deep down inside that jisung’s just trying to embarrass you. the second you agree to a date, he’ll laugh in your face, or even worse--he’ll stand you up and the whole school will laugh at how pathetic you are for thinking someone like him would actually like someone like you.

sure, felix said that’s all crazy, and hyunjin called you delusional and overdramatic for thinking that, but what do they know! they aren’t the ones who have to deal with jisung’s endless pestering and teasing (hyunjin says it’s just flirting, but you aren’t so sure about that).

you just wanted to eat lunch alone in peace tucked away in the corner of the cafeteria, is that too much to ask? most of your friends are away on a class field trip today; normally you eat with jeongin when this happens since neither of you are in the same class as your friends but unfortunately, he’s at home sick today so you’re stuck eating alone. not that you mind all that much; it’s a good opportunity to catch up on schoolwork while you eat, and it can be refreshing to have a small break from the chaos of your friend group.

but today of all days, you really don’t want to see jisung. today’s your seventeenth birthday, which means at midnight last night, you experienced the wonderful and exciting moment when your soulmate’s name appeared inked onto your forearm. needless to say, shocked and disappointed hardly begin to describe how you felt when the name “han jisung” appeared on your skin. you honestly couldn’t believe it at first; maybe felix figured out some elaborate prank, but the more you rubbed at the black letters in an effort to make them disappear the more you realized han jisung really is your soulmate.

hearing jisung’s voice made you feel queasy with...nerves? dread? yeah, let’s go with dread, definitely not any other feelings. your palms feel clammy and heat rises to your cheeks when he slides in beside you, and you do your best to act natural when he comfortably slings an arm around your shoulders.

“so y/n, i know it’s your seventeenth birthday today…” jisung begins, voice oozing with that confidence you’ve come to hate. you finally turn your head to see him grinning at you expectantly, although his smile isn’t quite as wide as you thought it’d be.

“yep, it is indeed. now please go away,” you reply. you’re not going to give him what he’s looking for; for now you’ll just keep stalling until you can think of what to say--you know jisung won’t leave until he has an answer about your soulmate. you don’t want to lie to him, but you don’t think you’re quite ready for him to find out the truth just yet.

“...soooo you’re gonna show me my name on your wrist, right?” he asks, and..are you hearing right? is there a slight waver in his confidence? you try to read his facial expression for any falters in his normally strong front, but now you’re doubting yourself. you’re just hearing things, or maybe he’s just nervous you’ll finally find out he was pranking you all along.

“what makes you so sure it’s your name on my wrist?” you respond, quirking your eyebrows at him.

“just a feeling. i know you and i are meant to be, y/n,” he comments with a wink, and your eyes flick down to his exposed wrist to double-check he doesn’t know anything. you’re pretty sure he hasn’t had his birthday yet, and your thoughts are confirmed when you spy his bare skin, devoid of ink.

“well, maybe you’re wrong,” you mutter, turning back to your schoolwork. you don’t know how long you can keep this up for, especially not when jisung’s so close to you.

“then you gotta show me who it is at least, y/n. i’d rather you break my heart now than make me wait til my birthday,” he jokes, although now you’re sure there’s a more serious undertone to his words.

“no.” you reply. you’re starting to get annoyed with jisung’s persistence, why can’t he just leave you alone and wait for you to tell him when you’re ready?

“awe come on y/n, please?” he begs, leaning his head down onto the table so you can’t avoid his puppy dog stare.

“i said no, jisung, now i’d really appreciate it if you left me alone.”

“i promise i will if you just-” jisung reaches to gently tug at your sleeve, and you snap.

“ugh, out of everyone on earth, why did my soulmate have to be you?” you mumble as you pull your arm away from his grip. you freeze as the realization hits you--you just told jisung the very thing you were trying so hard to keep from him. jisung looks equally as shocked as your eyes dart to his for a split second before you hastily grab your things and walk away from the table, leaving a speechless jisung behind you.

you walk out into the hallway where a few students stand or sit, hanging out comfortably as they wait for class to start again. there’s a spot near the music hall you know you can probably hide from jisung for the rest of lunch, and then you’ll just try your best to avoid him at least for the rest of the day. that might be hard, seeing as he sits right behind you in your english class, but maybe you can just skip-

“y/n!! there you are, wow you walk fast,” jisung says as he catches up to you. there aren’t too many students in this section of the hallway, which you’re grateful for--you can feel your eyes starting to well up with tears as you anticipate the embarrassment you’re about to experience.

“jisung, i’m really not in the mood,” you mutter, your voice cracking a little as you avoid eye contact.

“why’d you run away? hey, are you okay?” he asks. his voice is soft and sincere, which surprises you--you didn’t think he was capable of such emotions.

“no, jisung, i’m not okay. you’re my soulmate which really sucks because i know you don’t even like me like that and you’re just trying to mess with my feelings and-”

“woah woah, i’m sorry, what???? why would you think i don’t like you?” jisung asks. he stops walking, prompting you to stop as well, now a couple of steps in front of him.

“i-i don’t know, you’re just always so goofy and joking around, i just assumed you were playing a prank on me or something,” you explain. you stare at your shoes, too afraid to look at jisung right now. he steps forward, tentatively lifting a hand to your chin and raising your head so you’ll look at him.

“y/n, i’m telling you now, i really, really like you. like, probably too much. why do you think i haven’t dated anyone else this whole time?”

“i-”

“i’m sorry for coming off that way; to be honest, i couldn’t really handle the idea that you didn’t like me back, or that your soulmate might be someone else, so i just tried to play it off. honestly, when i came to talk to you today, i really wasn’t expecting to actually be your soulmate. i thought you’d say some other name, and i’d laugh it off and pretend i wasn’t heartbroken, so when you said i’m your soulmate, i didn’t even know how to react,” jisung explains.

“yeah, i don’t think i’ve ever seen you so quiet,” you joke, a tsunami of relief washing over you. you smile gently, your nerves and embarrassment washed away only to be replaced with a new, unfamiliar emotion. well, you shouldn’t say unfamiliar--you’ve felt twinges of it before, like when jisung lent you a calculator for a test or helped you up when you tripped in the hallway, but you always shoved those feelings down, not wanting them to grow into anything dangerous. but now, you suppose, you can let them flourish as you come to terms with the fact jisung genuinely does have feelings for you. it’s sort of weird seeing him flustered and embarrassed, but you think it’s cute.

the bell rings suddenly, signifying the end of lunch; just minutes before, lunch couldn’t be over soon enough, but now you find yourself wishing it could go on longer so you could talk to jisung more. how are you supposed to focus on class after all of this? your thoughts are interrupted as you feel jisung’s arm slip through yours as he gently guides you to start walking to class.

“so do your friends know yet?” jisung asks as you weave through the sea of students. the two of you get more than a few stares on your way to class; you are linking arms with the han jisung, of course, and you’re not trying to shove him away for once.

“only jeongin, and i made him swear not to tell the others. i didn’t wanna deal with all of them just yet,” you admit. “ugh, they’re never gonna let me live this down,” you groan, leaning your head onto jisung’s shoulder, and he thinks he might explode at how cute you are.

“but it’ll be worth it, because you have me!” jisung says. “we can handle a little teasing, right?”

“yeah...you’re right,” you reply with a soft smile. it’s starting to sink in that wow, you’ve actually found your soulmate, the person you’re destined to spend the rest of your life with, and your stomach bubbles with excitement as you finally feel at peace with jisung by your side.

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bbystark · 4 years ago

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Anxious Baker

Gordon Ramsay x reader

Request: “Hi ! Gordon Ramsay x reader please ? This is a weird ask but like reader having an anxiety attack or something and them passing out in his arms idk idk you can ignore this if u want - 🤍”

Warnings: Talk of mental health, anxiety, panic attacks

A/N: This is so terribly late and I apologize. I’ve finally figured out how to balance work and college so now I’m back on track for having free time to write. Also, I love the fact that someone requested Gordon Ramsey. I literally will dump anything on my blog, hopefully this is proof. (is this the first Gordon Ramsay fic on tumblr?)

Word Count: 1695

Requests | Feedback

You hum quietly, stirring the strawberries that were slowly reducing in a pot. You dipped your finger in, bringing it to your lips. You exclaim to yourself in delight, surprised that you were pulling off the recipe you had chosen. You turned the pot off, spinning around to pour the syrupy strawberries over the now-chilled pound cake.

You set the pot down, leaning on the counter to take a small break. You smiled to yourself and took a deep breath. Everything was going good.

Nothing is wrong, you remind yourself as thoughts in the back of your head nag at you.

You had struggled with anxiety for a while, and had become accustomed to random racing thoughts and heart acceleration. You were proud that you were working through it, even if you had a bad day once and a while.

As far as you could tell, today was a decent day. Baking was a safe escape for you, and you weren’t too bad at it. At some points it could be stressful, but being able to get rid of worries and focus on what was in front of you was therapy, in your mind.

You’re pulled from your thoughts by the doorbell ringing, causing a smile to spread across your face. You wipe your hands on a dish towel nearby and jog to your front door. When you make it there, you throw it open.

Gordon.

“Hello, Darling.” He steps in the door, hanging his jacket up on the rack and toeing his shoes off to the side. He sets the other things he was holding down and reaches towards you.

You step into his arms, your head briefly resting on his chest.

“Gordon! It’s been so long.”

He releases you, gently grasping your shoulders to hold you at arm's length.

“You look good,” he pauses, “And what’s that delightful smell? You’ve been baking again haven’t you?” He smiles down at you.

You smile bashfully. “I have. It’s strawberry shortcake this time. Nothing earth shattering.”

“Well I’m no pastry chef but if you made it I know it will be amazing love.”

You blush a little, realizing he’s still holding onto you. You roll our eyes, trying not to seem flustered and reach for the bags he had previously set down.

“What’d you bring me, old friend?”

“Old you say?” He follows you into the kitchen.

You set the bag down on the island, glancing up at Gordon as he nudges you aside and starts taking containers out of his bag.

“Skillet Cod with lemon and capers. It’s from the Tahoe location I’ve recently opened.” He moves around you with confidence, finding the cupboard you keep your plates in and pulling two out.

You grab forks, making your way to the table and setting two spots. Gordon joins you, placing plates down and plating the food from the “to go” boxes. It’s still warm, and somehow he manages to make it look like it just came out of the pass.

“This looks great Gordon. How’s the restaurant faring?”

He sits beside you, passing you a napkin. The whole thing seems too domestic and you almost hate how much you love the idea of life being like this every day.

“Just fine darling, my head chef is fully capable but it doesn’t stop me from making frequent trips up here,” He looks up from his food and gives you a sly smile, “Tahoe is truly a world treasure.”

You laugh. You have lived in California your entire life and oftentimes forget how lucky you are to have Lake Tahoe at your fingertips.

“I certainly don’t mind all the company I’ve been getting. Speaking of, when are you going to take me to your crowning achievement, hm?”

He laughs.

“Very soon, I promise.”

Conversation continues easily between you two, simply catching up. Occasionally one of you would look a little too long at the other, but fleeting glances would scare your gazes away. At some point, wine was brought to the table and you had a few drinks in (you swear it was only a few) and your head was swimming in a very pleasant way.

That was, until a smoke detector went off. Your heart rate accelerated almost immediately, eyes widening. Did you leave the stove on? Was it something else? Oh god, was your house about to burn down?

A million thoughts race through your mind and suddenly your throat seems very dry and tight.

You bolt up from your seat, rounding the corner. The stove was fine, and there were no flames anywhere else. The cake was still safe on the counter. Suddenly you realized there was smoke in the air and it was coming from the oven.

You had left it on after you took the cake out. You opened it after clicking the cancel button, a mass of smoke billowing out.

“Y/n? Isn't everything alright?”

You almost don’t hear him, too busy looking for what exactly was burning so badly. When the smoke clears a little bit, you see the now black batter at the bottom of the oven, realizing how stupid you currently felt. You had spilled some earlier when putting the cake in the oven, and had tried to remember to clean it up once the oven had cooled.

You now didn’t feel fear, just overwhelming embarrassment. Gordon had just witnessed you totally freak out over virtually nothing. Your throat felt tight and your eyes began to sting. You quickly shut the oven, bracing yourself against it. It was only getting harder to breathe, and it wasn’t helping that you were trying to stifle your emotions.

“Y/n darling-”

You’re braced against the oven, chest heaving. You can’t really lie to yourself any longer and say you aren’t panicking, because you are and suddenly every coping mechanism your therapist taught you is thrown out the window and god you don’t want anyone- much less Gordon- to see you like this.

Your anxieties are only piling on and you suddenly have tunnel vision, slumping even more onto the oven. You faintly feel Gordon’s hands underneath your arms, probably holding you up at this point. Your vision is swimming and you feel sick.

For a moment or so there’s nothing, and slowly you begin to feel better as your vision returns. You only feel so, so tired as you realize you had just passed out.

“There you go love, take it easy.”

You blink a few times, looking at your surroundings. You're on your kitchen floor, in Gordon’s lap. He’s stroking your hair, his brows furrowed.

“You look like you do when you get pissed on Hell’s Kitchen.” You let your head fall back onto his lap.

“Jesus fucking christ you scared me. What was that?”

“Just a panic attack, I think.”

“I thought they were getting better, that you were making progress?”

He looked genuinley worried and you realized how dumb your brain was for being overly anxious about having a panic attack in front of him. Which was ironic, seeing how more panic only made a bigger panic attack.

“I was. Sometimes they’re still bad, never like that though.”

“Are you sure you’re okay, should we go to the hospital?”

You try to sit up, only for Gordon to put a hand on your shoulder. You half smile allowing yourself to lay your head back down.

“Really Gordon, I feel better. It’s nothing but my brain overreacting a bit. I promise.”

He’s stroking your head again, and you can see he doesn’t believe you. You don’t blame him, he hadn’t experienced mental health issues in the same personal way you experienced them. This was something you had to deal with everyday, and he didn’t. You understood how concerning this probably seemed to him.

“I think I should stay tonight, just to make sure you’re okay.”

He helps you up, slowly, and being ever so careful with you. He leads you to your room, barely allowing you to change into pajamas. It was endearing how worried he was for you, but there was still a slight concern that you were being a burden.

“Are you alright?” He peaks around the door when you give him the okay, and you see that he’s shed his jacket and is now in sweatpants.

“Yes,” you sit on your bed, trying to hold in a yawn. “Are you sure you can stay tonight?”

“I would have been heading back to my hotel anyway. I don’t leave until Saturday.” He sits next to you on the bed, looking as if he’s gonna fret over you again.

“You can sleep in here, if you would like. My couch isn’t the most comfortable…”

“You didn’t think I was leaving you alone after that, did you?” He rolls over you, jokingly grabbing a pillow and bumping you with it. “This is my bed now too until I know you’re absolutely okay.”

You flush, and roll your eyes once again. “If you insist.”

Your heart is racing again and you almost laugh. This is a different kind of anxiety, the kind that makes your heart swell with love and the butterflies in your stomach to flutter around gently. It was exciting.

You turn and turn off your bedside light, crawling under the covers. You feel Gordon do the same, situating himself. You’re about to whisper goodnight when he pulls you into him, your head resting on his chest. He gives you a kiss on the forehead, squeezing your shoulder in a comforting way.

“Goodnight my love.”

“Goodnight Gordon.”

You suddenly feel content. No anxiety in the back of your mind, only bliss and safeness. There’s an unspoken promise that Gordon wishes he could voice, the solid promise of love that neither of you were quite ready to explore yet. But all of that didn’t matter at the moment. The only thing that he could feel was your steady heartbeat and rise and fall of your chest.

He unspokenly loved you, and that was enough for now.

“You know, we never got cake.”

“Cuddling you is dessert enough for me,” a pause, “Actually I will be stealing a slice tomorrow.

Thank you for reading!

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youngerdrgrey · 3 years ago

Text

relax (this is private, too) // a Mary/Ryan oneshot

about: In a post-2x13 world, Mary welcomes Sophie to the Bat Team, and Sophie derails the conversation with an observation.

“It’s a tale as old as time. ‘Straight’ girl meets somebody that she just has to know, wants to spend all her time with her, starts wearing her clothes….” Sophie and Mary both look down at the color-block jacket that Mary’s wearing — Ryan’s color-block jacket. But Mary couldn’t possibly have a crush on Ryan… could she? + read on ao3

notes: Surprise! Truly, none probably more surprised than me. One moment I'm saying that I probably won't write for a bit, and the next I'm writing this because we really didn't talk enough about Mary saying, "Okay, that's kind of sexy" over the hot shot moment. (As a note, yes, platonic, intimate friendships between women are important. At this moment, though, let's run the tape back with Mary who is very confused.)

🦇

“Sit, sit, sit.” Mary leads Sophie through the loft to the living room. “You must have questions.”

Sophie does sit — on the chair this time, which leaves the couch open for Mary. It’s a slightly different seating arrangement than they had yesterday. There’s definitely a lot less attitude and tension here, but then again, it is only Mary and Sophie right now. Unless Ryan’s patrol goes poorly, but it probably won’t. Besides, Mary had texted Ryan about wanting some one-on-one time to suss Sophie out. Sophie’s a great person, but she might need to come around to Ryan wearing the suit.

Mary uncorks the wine bottle on the coffee table and gives a generous pour into the two stemless glasses. It’s a rosè, which is the perfect drink for a casual conversation. It’s light, airy, and has absolutely no chance of worms or poison in the bottom.

Sophie eyes her glass a moment before picking it up anyway. “Honestly?” She chuckles. “I have less questions now.”

“Really?” Mary settles back into the couch. “Because I won’t judge you if you do. It’s a lot to take in.” Mary’d wanted to rip the suit right off of Ryan the first time that she saw Ryan in it. Granted, at the time, they’d still been trying to find Kate, and a stranger was wearing Mary’s sister’s secret vigilante costume.

Sophie swirls her glass. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m still processing the Ryan Wilder of it all, but… well, it all makes sense now.” She leans forward, her elbows finding the tops of her knees as she pitches towards Mary. “Before last week, I couldn’t understand why Ryan was suddenly everywhere. Sure, she worked at the bar, but then you were roommates out of nowhere. You went from zero to….” Sophie snorts into her wine glass.

Mary laughs too, but she doesn’t quite get why. It’s like they’re playing Never Have I Ever all over again. “Zero to what? I want in on the joke.”

Sophie shakes her head though. Her eyebrows pull together like she’s still puzzling something. Then she gives in, and her voice still has a hint of that humor as she finishes, “Zero to U-haul.” Mary chokes on the air in her lungs. Sophie raises her glass in a silent toast. “So, the Batwoman thing — makes a lot more sense than you suddenly having a girlfriend.”

Mary’s cheeks flush. Leave it to the lesbian to assume Mary’s hiding her sexuality. “A secret girlfriend is much more your speed.” Wait, is that rude? “Uh, no offense.”

Sophie takes a swig of wine. “None taken. You’re right. So, tell me more about working with Ryan.”

Mary smiles. This, she can do. She could talk about Ryan for hours. “She’s amazing. I mean, you know, you’ve seen her. She totally fills out the suit. Like it suits her and not the other way around. You’d think that it wouldn’t, but she really makes it her own.”

“Right, with the wig.”

“With everything!” Mary drinks some more. “She really gets this city, you know? Everything we’re doing with the Center is all Ryan’s idea. She came up with the plan, and she has these rules that we follow as the Bat Team! No killing, no working with Crows — again, no offense. Er, well,” Mary tilts her head to the side, “some offense. You guys have an awful track record at this point.”

Sophie takes another drink. “So you tell me.”

“But we also do team building exercises. It’s mostly us playing Taboo, and Luke getting really tired of us. Ryan’s so great. It’s like we don’t even have to say anything to know what the other is thinking. And even though she’s the boss, and she’s the leader, it’s like we’re really working side by side to make Gotham the place we always wanted it to be. The Center’s only the start. She has ideas about upgraded transitional shelters for people experiencing homelessness, and expanding the clinic if we get enough resources. She listened to my whole pitch about what we would need to do it, and asked questions, and— what?”

Sophie’s staring at Mary. Staring hard, but soft at the same time.

Mary swipes a hand across her cheek. “Is something on my face?”

Sophie shakes her head. “No, it’s nothing.” She drinks again, but her brows stay furrowed.

“Sophie, come on. Whatever it is, you can tell me.” Maybe hearing about all the good that Ryan wants is too much for Sophie right now. Mary can wait. It’s not like she’ll run out of good stuff to say.

“It’s the way you talk about her,” Sophie says finally. That softness is there again. A gentle touch in her voice. “Between that and your ‘kinda sexy’ comment yesterday… I don’t know, Mary, it just sounds like you have a crush.”

“A crush?” Mary repeats. “On Ryan?” She scoffs. “Hate to break it to you, Sophie, but I am straight. Like so straight. Like—”

Sophie puts her hands up in a silent casual defense. She drops them a moment later. “You don’t have to convince me. I believe you.”

“Thank you!” Mary flops back into the couch. Her head bounces just a bit on the top of it. Her curls smush, and she sinks down so that the thought can hopefully follow it out of her head.

She knows what sexy is. She can identify that something could be attractive without actually being attracted to said thing. There are all the different types of attraction. She ran a course on gender and sexuality for the doctors and volunteers at her clinic to make sure that everyone was on the same page in how to properly treat people that the medical field did not always regard with respect. She would know if she had a crush on Ryan.

Wouldn’t she?

Sophie sets her wine onto the coffee table. “It’s a tale as old as time. ‘Straight’ girl meets somebody that she just has to know, wants to spend all her time with her, starts wearing her clothes….” Sophie and Mary both look down at the color-block jacket that Mary’s wearing — Ryan’s color-block jacket.

“Okay, but we live together,” Mary reasons. Roommates borrow each other’s clothes. It’s not like she’s taking her crush’s jacket so that she has an excuse to see Ryan again. She can see Ryan whenever she wants. She does see Ryan whenever she wants. She can’t even count the number of times she’s come back from an awful shift, walked into Ryan’s room, and flopped down onto the bed beside her.

Her bed’s not softer than Mary’s. Mary obviously cared a lot more about her rest than Kate did, so Mary’s mattress is a dream. But Ryan’s room smells like a dialed down greenhouse. It smells alive and hopeful and earthy in a way that instantly calms Mary down. And when Mary’s having a really rough day, Ryan will put a pillow in her lap and run her hands through Mary’s hair until she stops seeing whatever gruesome wounds that she’s spent the last few hours dealing with. That’s not a crush. That’s… comfort. Intimacy. A deep, deep starvation for physical touch after a lifetime of parental neglect.

Friends can be affectionate. Friends can want to be close to each other.

She wants to be close to Luke. And to Sophie! She would love to curl up next to Sophie right now. Though, the more that Mary thinks about curling up with Sophie, the more she recognizes that it wouldn’t be the same as cozying up to Ryan. Ryan’s basically her same size. She’s got this warmth that radiates from her cheeks and her chest, and she hums songs and asks Mary to guess which song it is. Mary’s awful at this game, by the way. She usually ends up giving up, or drifting off to sleep while Ryan’s clearly picking songs that Mary — as someone who did not grow up in a Black household — did not grow up with.

(The one time Mary used that as a defense, Ryan had pointed out that Ryan didn’t grow up in a Black household either. Ryan grew up in a mismatch of cultures and identities in group homes before Mama Cora found her in high school. They’d made up for lost time with plenty of Miss Anita Baker and all the classics that Ryan had missed out on. The rest of Ryan’s cultural education came from other Black students and friends who’d either clowned her for not knowing a reference, or rushed to show her what their parents told them. It hadn’t been as simple as a natural osmosis for Ryan to feel at home with some of the cultural references around her.)

(Mary had whispered that it wasn’t easy for her either. Not with her mom working all the time and the rest of her Korean-American family out of reach. “There weren’t many Korean people in Gotham.” An understatement, but Ryan had leaned down and pressed a kiss to the crown of Mary’s head to comfort her. Sadness Mary hadn’t even known was still there had welled up. Liquified into tears that slipped onto Ryan’s pillow.)

(“It was—” Her breath had caught in her throat. The tears smeared her vision, which was fine, since all she could see from this angle were Ryan’s plants by the window anyway. “It was so lonely sometimes. And my dad…. With Kate… And Alice….” She couldn’t finish a single sentence. All the tears turned to sobs, and the sobs turned into this soul-clenching pressure in her chest.)

(Ryan had curled around Mary then. An arm found its way under Mary’s knees and softly tugged her into a tighter ball in Ryan’s lap. Ryan rocked them, whispered again and again, “It’s okay. Let it out. I got you. I’m here, Mary. I’m here.”)

Mary gulps now. “Ryan is….” She’s Mary’s roommate. Mary’s best friend. She’s the one who got Mary through losing Kate and who welcomed Mary onto the Bat Team. She’s the first person Mary calls whenever anything happens and literally the only person Mary could entrust The Hold Up to. She’s Batwoman, and…. And Mary has no idea what she would do without Ryan at this point. But it’s not like Mary wants to kiss Ryan. Just look at Ryan.

Look at Ryan in those ridiculous flannel shirts. She has twelve. Not including jackets. And she’s a woman, which is not Mary’s type. Mary hasn’t been super successful with her previous type, but they definitely have certain characteristics that Ryan does not. They don’t walk around in fluffy robes that they bought to spite their ex-girlfriends, or wake up super early after a late shift to use the workout bike that Mary still has never actually tried riding. They don’t make Mary sweet potato pancakes and encourage her to try out cooking on her off nights for stress relief. They don’t make her feel like home. They don’t…. Shit.

The lowest groan that Mary has ever done in her life grumbles out of her.

Sophie pops her lips. “There it is.”

Mary squeezes her eyes shut. “You’re not right. I don’t — I can’t — it’s Ryan.” She can’t fall for her best friend! She doesn’t have a backup bestie. “Besides!” Mary pops up to tell Sophie, “I have never once wanted to kiss her.”

Sophie raises an eyebrow in the smoothest, most silent way to ask, Are you sure?

(Mary got them breakfast the next morning. She couldn’t do the sweet potato pancakes, but she knew the right cafe to get Ryan’s favorite vegan chorizo burrito. She got back just as Ryan was finishing up a shower and called out, “Breakfast!”)

(Steam followed Ryan out of her bedroom. The tips of her hair dripped softly onto her shirt, just above her chest, and Mary couldn’t stop glancing down at it. Normally, she would’ve been able to, but that morning…. Ryan snatched up her burrito and flopped down onto the couch. On the first bite, Ryan let out a soft moan that somehow carried straight over to Mary. Maybe Mary made the wrong food choice? If the burrito was that good, and Mary could feel it, then she needed some of what Ryan was having.)

(“You’re brilliant,” Ryan said. Then she locked eyes with Mary and gestured with her burrito. “Anyone who would ever leave you behind is a dumbass. Full offense to the entire Hamilton-Kane family.” Ryan dug in for another bite, and Mary’s heart swelled in her chest. She couldn’t even smile with how full she felt. How warm and safe and loved. God, she loved Ryan. She really, really could spend the rest of her life like this.)

(Ryan’s face scrunched up. “Stop looking at me like that. I don’t care how hungry you look. I’m not sharing.”)

(Mary faked an outraged gasp. She wasn’t even hungry. Not anymore, not really. Still, she threw herself onto the couch beside Ryan. “I paid for it! Give me a bite!” Ryan squirmed away, and Mary had to cling to the curve of Ryan’s back to try and reach for the good. “Come on! Ryan!”)

(If Ryan was a guy, this is when Mary would’ve kissed him. Would’ve peppered his head and his cheeks and his nose with kisses until he turned just enough for her to kiss his full lips and suck his tongue into her mouth. To lose every bit of resistance in the soft brush of her hands, and the gentle curls of Ryan’s hair beneath her fingers. Ryan’s teeth nipping at her bottom lip, then her neck, then—)

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, SHIT!” Mary sinks even deeper into the couch. Then shoots up at the reminder of the memory of wanting to kiss Ryan on this exact freaking couch. She turns her wide eyes to Sophie. “What am I going to do?”

Sophie clicks her tongue. “Nope, I want nothing to do with that. Whatever happens there is between you and Ryan.”

“But what if….” Mary loses her words in a squeak. What if she doesn’t know what she wants to happen? What if she doesn’t want anything to happen? What if she’ll be totally fine, going about her business, continuing her life where she gets to occasionally cuddle up with her best friend in their apartment? Maybe she doesn’t need anything more than that. She’s made it this far, and she didn’t even know she had any sort of feelings, or attraction. She can keep on going now. She can be normal.

Not normal meaning straight, just normal meaning Mary’s normal state. Which was straight. Is straight?

Mary groans. “I hate my life.”

Sophie reaches for the wine bottle and fills Mary’s glass up to the brim. “Look on the bright side — at least you know who she is. No secret identities, or clandestine rendezvous. Unless you’re into that sort of thing.”

“I am apparently into a lot of things I didn’t know,” Mary mumbles.

Sophie sighs. “It’s not that different, and for you, maybe it’s not different at all. Maybe….” Sophie glances around the loft. Mary follows her eyes as they bounce from the wine to the hallway to the silly bat wall decals that Ryan got from Party City and put near the TV. Sophie nods her head, as she finds her words. “Ryan loves Halloween.”

“What?”

“Stick with me.” Sophie points to the bats, then the tiny plastic pumpkins from the checkout section of Target. “Ryan loves Halloween. She decorates the whole house around it because she loves it so much. But me, I grew up in a strict Christian household where Halloween was not what we did. We did Christmas. And you….”

Mary follows again. “We did a mix. Christmas and Hanukkah.”

Sophie winces. “Okay, a mix of holidays. You’re not strictly a one holiday kind of girl. And that’s fine.”

Mary glances back to the Halloween decorations. “So, in this metaphor—”

“It might be time to celebrate Halloween. Maybe you’ll love it. Maybe you’ll hate it. But it’s October now, so, get a costume, grab a pumpkin, and tell her how you feel.”

Okay. Mary can do that. Mary can totally do that. If she can handle Alice imploding her entire life in front of the whole world, then she can tell her roommate that she has a crush on her.

Maybe.

Someday.

When she’s ready.

“Can we, uh, work our way up to Halloween? I feel like I’m still hearing fireworks.”

Sophie grins at her. “Of course. We’ll go at your speed. And if you have any questions?”

Mary picks back up her wine glass and knocks back nearly half of it. “I’ll ask you. Or Parker. She’s incredibly knowledgeable for a teenager.” She probably wouldn’t use such convoluted metaphors either. It’s a win-win really. Great, last time Mary saw Parker, they were watching the lesbian drama; now Mary will be a part of it. Ugh. "I'm never living this down, am I?"

"Oh, absolutely not. Hey, Mary?" Sophie waits until Mary's turned her steadily narrowing gaze to her. "Never have I ever had a crush on Batwoman."

Mary flips Sophie off.

🦇

#mary hamilton #ryan wilder #mary x ryan #hamilbat #maryan #batwoman fic #mine #batwoman: s2 #batwoman: 213 #sophie moore #this was fun and then sad and then fun again. good times.#and they were roommates #and good night!

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couchpotatoaniki · 4 years ago

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One Year ❣︎ Three: The Execution

Chapter Summary: Trying to cool off, you decided to spend the day by yourself. This couldn’t have gone any better for San’s plan.

Pairing: Mafia!San x Fem!Reader Genre: Mafia AU, fluff, angst, eventual smut, lotta crack and stupid shit ngl Chapter warnings: swearing, stalking, kidnapping Word count: 2.5k+ A 365 Days parody

Previous: Chapter Two For the rest of the series, click here

Speech in bold means they’re talking in Korean

Speech in italics is whatever the reader wants their native langue to be that’s not Korean or English

Speech without either means they’re talking in English

Buzzing came from your pocket, initially thinking your phone got a notification until it continuously vibrated. Yunho was calling you.

“Yo, where are you? Mingi told us what happened between you and Dom--and before you say anything, he’ll be having hell to pay, regardless of whether you approve or not.”

Chuckling, you sighed as you looked at your surroundings. “Fine by me. Do what you like to him.” Slowing down in front of a cute-looking coffee shop, you answered his first question...partially. “Just taking a stroll in the town.”

“Wanna be left alone?” You hummed as you entered the establishment, being hit with wafts of bakes goods. “Very well then. But we’re gonna hunt you down if you’re not back by midnight.”

“M’kay, Pops,” mumbling absent-mindedly while overlooking the menu on the screens above the counter.

You couldn’t see the gentle bitter smile on his face, knowing very well that you weren’t as stone-cold as the façade you masked yourself in. Had an idea that you just needed space. “Alright then. Look after yourself.”

“You too.”

Beeping over the line indicated to you that he had hung up. Shoving your phone back into your coat pocket, you let your feet carry you to the till, where a young teenager dressed in a pale blue polo shirt and evergreen apron on top greeted you with a nervous smile.

Must have been new, or had some sort of social anxiety, from the way they avoided your eyes and fidgeted with their hands. “U-Um, hello. Welcome... What would you like?” the taller kid practically whispered, but you caught on to their words.

Sending a soft, warming smile, you answered, “can I have a buttered croissant with a mango and passionfruit iced tea, please? Actually, would you mind adding a chocolate muffin to that too?”

Nodding, they tapped the till, pressing various buttons before saying, “that’ll be 6,500 won, please.”

Pulled out your wallet and paid the employee. As you sat down, waiting on your order, you began to reminisce from when you used to be that age too--then again, it was not hard at all since it wasn’t too long ago.

Seven years ago, you were only 16, enjoying life just before things took a turn you never expected and you were never the same air-headed, happy-go-lucky kid you once were.

All you needed at the time was someone who was kind, who gave you a breath from the onslaught you faced all around you. Mingi was probably the only reason you’re still alive.

Thinking about the old days did more damage to you than you’d like to believe, but almost seemed impossible with the Dominic situation.

Being betrayed again hurt like hell, and although he wasn’t as bad as what you had experienced, he still broke your trust. Trust you tried to rebuild after all you went through the last time.

Thoughts you spent so long trying to get rid of grew back like weeds of the concrete walls you put up five years ago.

And despite what you tried to convince yourself and Mingi, you actually really liked the guy.

“Here you go, miss,” the young employee mumbled as he placed a tray with your order on it. Almost everything was right, except that there was a vanilla and chocolate chip muffin instead of a complete chocolate one.

Oh well, a muffin’s a muffin.

“Thank you,” you grinned, handing the teenager a tip of 10,000 won.

Their eyes widened at your strange generosity before hesitantly taking the money you held out between your index and middle fingers.

Your lips wrapped around the straw as you took a sip of your ice-cold drink. Strong tones of mango, with a hint of passionfruit, slight sweetness from honey and faint tang of fresh lemon.

Iced tea was something you had grown to love over the past five years, first time being too bitter and flavourful for you. Then again, the events prior left a bad taste in your mouth. Seonghwa was the one who helped you, always getting you an iced tea every time he went to a nearby coffee shop.

Learned quite quickly that your tongue was sensitive to heat after being so concerned how you refused piping-hot meals he cooked for you often. Waited until it cooled a lot before digging in.

No doubt the four boys would do anything for you--Mingi the most out of the rest since you wouldn’t be where you are without him--but sometimes you needed to breathe by yourself. Enjoying the little things you like croissants and muffins rather than focussing on your soon-to-be ex boyfriend cheating on you for a reason that eludes you.

That’s how the rest of the day goes.

Aimlessly walking, window-shopping, sight-seeing. Nothing registered in your mind but it was better than something negative.

Your phone was on silent, growing cold in your pocket from the lack of heat being transferred from your hand. Even then, you doubt anyone (except Dominic) would be texting you since you told them you wanted peace.

Before you realised it, the sun crawled above your head and began to set in the horizon, a clash of beautiful blues, oranges, pinks, and purples hovering in the sky. Lampposts along the streets lit up and the sky grew dark, yet that didn’t stop the hustle and bustle.

Irritated by the noises of people, you turned to an alleyway which had significantly less lighting but also significantly less humans.

As you walked, you were deep in thought, not thinking much of your surroundings. Then the hairs on the back of your neck stood up and a chill ran down your spine.

Someone was following you.

You were about to turn around and defend yourself--and you had no worries that you would lose. But then bright LED headlights of a hidden black SUV had highlighted the hair of a rather short person who stood in front of it.

Shocking electric blue stands brushed against his porcelain-smooth skin from light wisps of wind passing by. The same colour hair you realised had been barely peeking in your peripheral since the airport.

Next to a man you had very briefly met on you birthday dinner while searching for the bathroom.

Exactly how long have they been following you?

Though you chided yourself for not noticing it sooner--despite all the excuses of being ‘on a holiday’--you found yourself pondering. You had never met those two funky-haired people before in your life, and you sure as hell made sure any dangerous people couldn’t find you (not without going through one of the other boys first) so who exactly were these people?

Perhaps you were like a bee, drunk on the honey in your tea, or maybe you wanted to get your mind off the situation, needing a thrill at the moment.

You felt the need to destroy something--or at least toy with it for a bit--and these cocky assholes seemed perfect.

Either way, you relaxed your muscles (only a little, as to not raise suspicion of the young man before you).

One foot stepped behind you as you kept your eyes trained on his coco ones, only to rip them away a moment when you turned to ‘run’. As expected, something else tried to stop you. Another black SUV with blinding lights swerved into the other end of the alleyway as you tried to leave.

You’d prided yourself on good acting, and it always seemed to pay off. Right now, to sell the part of a scared girl, you stumbled backwards--planning to fall of the cobblestone path, but only to be saved by something hard.

The mysterious man’s chest, his hands holding your arms as support.

“Sorry about this,” he whispered in your ear, covering your mouth with a chloroformed cloth. You didn’t really put up much of a fight (to your standards, anyway) and succumbed to the strong chemical.

At first you were floating in a sea of black, unable to connect with your senses. Slowly, after moments of nothingness, you could feel the world materialise around you.

Soft fabric was cushioned beneath you, cradling your body with warmth. Light began to seep through your closed eyelids as the gentle, sweet smell of sugared almonds filled your nose with every deep inhale. And finally, a headache that began to pound harder with every pulse.

Grunting, you pried your eyes open, immediately noticing what appeared to be a shower room in front of you. There were two shower heads on each side, with only pillars of soft light embedded into the tiled wall rather than a proper partition. To add to the lack of privacy, the only material separating the shower room and the eyes of the bed was simply a thin pane of sliding glass which hid absolutely nothing.

“What kinda perv decided to design this monstrosity?”

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you looked down on the bed you were lying in, thankfully still in the same cotton dress, phone no longer in its pockets. The mattress was significantly softer than the one at the hotel--yet another indicator that your kidnappers were rich.

On the tables dotted around the space were lilac candles. Most likely the culprit of the amazing scent in the room.

Your eyes then caught the daylight peeking through the curtains, enlightening the room in a soft apricot glow. “Fuck,” you muttered, remembering Yunho’s words in the previous call she had, “they’re gonna kill me for staying out.”

Pushing yourself off the illegally comfortable bed, you inched towards the only door you saw. Fingers wrapped around the cold metal handle and pushed down, finding it much to your surprise that it was actually unlocked. Pulled it open without hesitation, though making sure you peered out to see if there was anyone.

There wasn’t.

“Great security, guys,” you sighed, actually feeling disappointed in the lack of effort you had to put in while walking openly around. After all, it was the reason you let yourself be taken.

Then again, this could all be a trap.

Now that was exciting.

You let yourself become familiar with the surroundings upon one glance, noticing the obvious luxurious colour scheme of gold and cream that had your eyes rolling at the basic rich vibes it gave you.

Then you found your breath catching in your throat as you continued to explore, eyes frozen on a portrait hung up on a wall.

Though the fact that it was a portrait of you had initially shocked you, it wasn’t the defining feature that had your heart palpitating at a dangerous speed. Your hair was short again, a pixie cut, while you were sat on a beach that looked a lot like the one you visited in Santorini.

“Fuckin’ hell.”

In fact, the painting was an exact replica of you from five years ago, down to the clothing of ripped jeans and loose top you wore. You, from one of your darkest and lowest moments.

“Are you lost, babygirl?”

The same voice rang in your ears, repeating the only sentence you heard spill from his lips. When you turned around to confirm who it was, it was indeed the same man you saw.

The damn muscular guy, with pitch-black hair and a lock of platinum blonde brushing just above an eye.

The blood was rushing too fast, fear in your eyes no longer an act. Just who the fuck was this guy?

You took one step back, knees buckling instantly but before your brain could process it, the man had wrapped his arms around you, catching your body before hit the ground.

San could smell the delicate citrusy aroma wafting from your skin and he tried so hard to not bury his head in the crook of your neck, to kiss the area and whisper sweet nothings into your ear.

Taking advantage of your frozen state, he lifted you up and place you on a nearby armchair, one beside a fireplace since he felt you were too cold for comfort.

Only until he had a ice cube pressed against your lips, did you snap out of it. “You should have it. Maybe you had a bad reaction to the chloroform. Sorry about that, by the way.”

Head turning the other way, your guarded eyes stayed locked on him rather than your painting behind his form. “English.”

“Why? You spoke perfectly good Korean at the dinner two days ago,” he said, pressing the ice cube onto your mouth once more.

“Simply because I feel more comfortable with English,” you remarked, swatting away his hand. “And stop putting that on my mouth.”

Sighing, he dropped the cold, melting cube back in the glass of whiskey before putting a bit of distance between the two of you. He could feel himself getting angry, that you won’t trust him, that you won’t listen to him.

But could he blame you?

“I feel like explanations are in order,” you said, narrowing your eyes down on his figure, flickering firelight resting on him to make him seem even more good-looking, shadows casted to make each feature appear sharper. But that wasn’t what you were focused on.

You wanted to deduce this stranger by his body language.

Stood tall, maintaining good eye contact, showed that he was confident. Classic black suits--expensive by the look of the fabric--showed that he as rich. Tattoos littering the skin of his hand showed a bit of a bad-boy nature. And the aura he emitted was that of a leader.

Corner of your lips twitching, you realised who--or what--he might be. The boss of a fairly powerful crime syndicate.

San, on the other hand, couldn’t see what you were thinking as you looked at him. Did you think he was as hot as he did you? Fuck, he hoped so--clearly not understanding how a normal person would react in such a situation.

“Hello? Earth to whoever the hell you are?”

“If you want answers, you certainly won’t be getting them if you act like a brat.”

Scoffing, you tilted you head, eyes boring into him with a cold glaze coving them. Like a lifeless doll. “Then how do you suggest I act then? Hmm? After seeing that you’ve been stalking me for the last five years,” you nodded towards coloured canvas, growing more unsettled every time you looked at it.

“Fair point,” he said, taking a seat on the chair opposite you. “But you should know that I haven’t been doing that. Stalking you, I mean.”

“The fuck do you call that creepy-ass portrait, then?”

“I call it a precious memory.” San shifted his focus from your gaze to the flames lazily dancing on charred wooden embers. Tongue swiped over his lips before chuckling, almost bitterly. “Doubt you’ll believe me, but I’ll tell you anyway.”

Lips pursed, you sat quietly as you listened to his story.

☕︎ Tag list: @little-precious-baby , @sparklychangbin ,

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