#and go to his friend's house to hang out and drop off a lasagna i made for him cause his friend's been having a rough time lately | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dangerousstrawberryshark · 4 years ago

Text

I Can Do Anything I Want

Requested from no one.

Tom Holland x Male Reader

(Tom be looking sexy)

Warning: Violence, kidnapping, psychotic Tom, mention of nudity, all character are above the age of 18

Background: March 21st, 2030, 7:00 PM, you were getting ready to bunker down with your mom and dad. You hoped that nothing would happen tonight but someone decided to come in and give you a visit.

Tom is 20 and you are 18

M/n: Male name.

L/n: Last name.

F/n: Friend's name

Word count: 2900

I hope you enjoy it!! Sorry if it is bad! And there are probably many mistakes and grammar errors.

«⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕»

DISCLAIMER: I MEAN NO OFFENSE, DISRESPECT, OR HARM TO ANY OF THESE CELEBRITIES! THIS IS JUST FICTION.

«⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕»

MINORS DNI. FEMALE READERS… I’LL ALLOW YOU TO READ MY FICS BUT DO NOT FETISHIZE ANY OF MY STORIES

«⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕»

You were sitting on the couch with your mom sitting on the left side, and your father on your right side. You were waiting for the announcement to come on. ‘It's almost 7:00 PM…” you thought to yourself. The holiday you hated the most was about to begin.

Just then the emergency broadcast came on with that ear-shattering sound. And the screen on the TV turns blue with the symbol of the NFFA in the background.

“This is not a test.”

“This is your emergency broadcast system announcing the commencement of the Annual Purge sanctioned by the U.S. Government.”

“Weapons of class 4 and lower have been authorized for use during the Purge. All other weapons are restricted.”

“Government officials of ranking 10 have been granted immunity from the Purge and shall not be harmed.”

“Commencing at the siren, any and all crime, including murder, will be legal for 12 continuous hours.”

“Police, fire, and emergency medical services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning at 7 AM when the Purge concludes.”

“Blessed be our New Founding Fathers and America, a nation reborn.”

"May God be with you all.”

Then the air horn sirens blared meaning the Purge officially began. Your family has already set up defenses. You, of course, never participate. Your family put out blue flowers to show that they don’t want to participate but they support the purge.

You know your parents, they didn’t support this “holiday” at all. Come on now, 12 hours without any laws. Your parents spoke out against it.

Some (well most) Americans find the Purge to be successful. Unemployment rates plummeted down to 1 percent, crime rates decreased, and the economy was revived.

If you are wondering how this came into reality, it all started back in 2014.

(little history of how the Purge became a tradition in American society.)

In 2014, the United States was facing economic collapse, rising social unrest, and multiple wars. The economic collapse was worse than the Mortgage Crisis of 2008. Neighborhoods across the country were destroyed by an opioid epidemic.

Then a party was founded as a substitute for the Republicans and Democrats, they called themselves the New Founding Fathers of America or NFFA.

In 2016, the first experimental Purge took place and it proved to be successful. Then in 2017, the second experimental Purge began this time it was Nationwide.

Not long after that, the 28th amendment to the US constitution was ratified meaning that Purging is now an American right.

The Purge starts on March 21st at 7:00 PM and it ends at sunrise, March 22nd, 7:00 AM. all crime is legal for 12 hours, no killing high government officials, and don’t use explosives or bioweapons. Those who don’t follow the rules will be hanged.

This resulted in crime and unemployment rates dropping down 1 percent, government spending down 37 percent, and the GDP soared to 37.21 trillion dollars.

Still, many people disagreed with this because it was believed that the Purge was used as means of population control, and to decrease the poor population but they couldn’t do anything about it.

(little history lesson over. I just wanna include that part for those who have never seen the purge.)

We got off the couch and went to go do our own things. “Sweetie do wanna eat dinner?” my mom said, I smiled. “Yes please.” she smiled at me and went to go cook dinner. You went upstairs to chill in your room. Your window was boarded up but you could easily remove it when things go down.

————————————————————————————

Time skip (8:00 PM)

————————————————————————————

It's been one hour since commencement. You were up in your room just watching YouTube videos. Your mother was downstairs cooking Lasagna (or whatever your favorite dish is) your father was downstairs watching the news.

The news would keep up with things happening tonight. Were watching a live stream showing what was happening on the outside. Building on fire, people killing each other, and parties. All of this was caught on drones.

You would hear the occasional screams and gunfire in the area but you and your family were secure.

Then you heard banging on the front door. The door and windows were boarded up with wood planks. ‘Who is that?’ you thought, you were worried it was one of your bullies who decided tonight was the night they get to get rid of you.

You went downstairs to see your parents. They had fear in their eyes, then the door busted one. Three men wearing tuxedos with masks on walked in. then they pulled out their guns, that’s when you dashed and went up into your room.

Your parents tried to run but they were quickly gunned down. You could hear gunshots go off and their screams filled the house.

You locked your bedroom door and ran to the window to remove the wood plank blocking it. You could hear the footsteps coming up the stairs. One of them called out to you, “M/n⁓ where are you⁓? Come out from hiding… are you in your room?”

You recognized that deep British accent, it was Tom! Tom Holland from your class! ‘What did I do to him? I never did anything wrong to him!’ but that didn’t stop you from removing the plank. You jumped out the window and ran for it.

Tom busted through your door to see that you have escaped. He gritted his teeth and went downstairs to see his twin brothers sitting down on the couch with their masks off.

“So he got away?” the older twin said. “Yeah, he did. We’ll find him though. He isn’t stupid enough to go downtown. He’ll probably head to his friend's house.” Tom said a little anger that his precious lover had gone away.

“We already took care of his friends. But we couldn’t get to one of them.” The younger twin said, Tom nodded and went out to go find you.

(Btw Tom's parents live in the UK and they don’t know what he is doing. Tom’s brothers are just helping him catch you)

————————————————————————————

Time skip (9:00 PM)

————————————————————————————

You were running to your friend's house hoping they would help you. You had to be careful while running through the streets, there were purgers everywhere. The city of Los Angeles was crawling with them, especially in the downtown area.

Thankfully you took your phone with you to see what time it was. ‘9:00 PM.’ you turned off your but you made sure it was on silent mode so it wouldn't bring attention to you.

You had a little encounter with Purgers but they were quickly gunned down by a machine gun attached to the back of a car. You saw vehicles on fire, dead bodies, and an old lady just watching a body burn.

‘This is all crazy!’ you thought as you ran faster just to get off the streets but what you didn’t was that someone was following you.

After running for 30 minutes you finally arrived at one of your friend’s houses. You didn’t realize that their barricades were broken until you twisted the knob on the door.

You walked in to see the whole place trashed. You walked through the rooms to see F/N parents dead, lying on the floor. Their eyes were open, you see nothing in them. “Please don’t be dead…” you said putting your hand over your mouth as you tried not to cry out loud.

You slowly walked up the stairs and approached F/N’s room. There you saw it, F/N lying on the floor dead as well. You burst out crying but that ended when you heard a car pull up.

“Find him!” you knew who that was immediate. You couldn’t run anywhere because they were downstairs, and the window had steel as a barricade. So, you hid in F/n’s closet.

You knew they had a pile of clothing in the corner, so you buried yourself in their clothes. You heard their footsteps walking up the stairs, and them breaking down the door. Then you heard them in the room.

You could see a figure walking through a small hole in the clothing pile. You covered your mouth so you wouldn’t breathe too hard. “CLEAR!” the figure yelled and went back downstairs. You heard their conversation from downstairs because of how the walls were thin.

“I thought he would be here!” Tom yelled, and out of anger shots one of his own men. The twins and the other weren’t fazed by this. They knew Tom had a few screws loose.

Then you heard them leave but you didn’t believe they actually left so you decided to stay where you were for the 2 to 3 hours.

————————————————————————————

Time skip (3:00 AM)

————————————————————————————

While waiting you accidentally fell asleep (why? because of plot purposes and I'm the author)and you realized that it was 3:00 AM, 4 hours till the Purge ends. You thought you could stay here but then you smelt something burning.

You got out of the pile to see the room was on fire. ‘What?! How?’ you quickly got and ran before the roof caved in on you. The backdoor was barricaded but due to the fire, it melted the steel allowing you to escape. (is that possible?)

You were on the run again but before you left, you noticed a group of people watching the house burn. ‘Are those my teachers?’ The group was your teachers from different classes. You knew they didn’t like F/N at all.

‘What has this country become?’ if this keeps happening, if more innocent people keep dying, then the nation will become the “Nation of Murders.” you decided to ignore them and run.

But one of them saw you, “M/n? Is that you?” one of them yelled. You froze, ‘how did they--?’ you turned around to see them walking towards you. “Hey don't worry we ain’t kill you. You are our favorite student!”

You looked at them shocked. “Why are you out here? Aren’t you supposed to be with your parents?” you looked down and began to cry. They noticed and said they didn’t need to know.

“Do you wanna come with us? There’s a neighborhood block party.” you nodded and decided to go with them. ‘So I guess they kill the kids they hate.’ they then took you to one of the nearby parties.

But one of Tom’s men noticed and decided to alert the big boss.

(just to be clear, in the Purge series there isn’t a legal purge. Meaning that you can kill someone who is 18 or younger. Now that’s fucked up.)

You and the teachers arrived at the block party. You see everyone partying, some had creepy masks, and others were naked grinding against each other. You lost your teachers in the crowd so you decided to just hideout.

————————————————————————————

Time skip (6:00 AM, one hour till the Purge ends.)

————————————————————————————

(if you are wondering why Tom didn’t show up early, it's because he was busy doing something else….. Or maybe its because I was too lazy to put anything during that time skip)

You checked your phone and noticed it was 6:00 AM. ‘One more hour!’ you smiled as the night was finally coming to an end. The sun was rising in the distance but people were still partying. ‘I survived the night.’

You even began to party yourself in celebration of surviving. You had a couple of drinks but not enough to be completely drunk. You danced with some people. Overall you were having a good time

But that happiness was short-lived when the gunfire began to go off. People were screaming and tripping over each other as they tried to run away. You already knew who it was. Tom fucking Holland and his group arrived

He noticed you in the crowd and smirked as he can finally have you before the Purge ended. You ran away from the crowd to one of those large garbage containers. You hid behind them hoping Tom won’t find you.

You could still hear the screams of people and more gunfire further down the street. You creeped out from your hiding place and walked back to the street.

You were horrified by what you were seeing. Dead bodies everywhere, your teacher’s dead bodies, and some people you were dancing with. All dead.

Then you heard footsteps behind you, you turned around to see Tom there smiling sadistically at you. You admit he was kind of hot but that doesn’t matter right now. “Why are you doing this? I never did anything to you! And did you find me?! ”

(6:55 AM)

“Why’m I doing this? Well, it's because of M/n…… I love you M/n! You never did anything wrong. And how did I find you? Well, remember there's an app where you can track down certain people’s phones? Well, that’s how I found you, that and one of my men told me.” Tom sounded proud of what he just said.

(6:57 AM)

“I thought I could use this Purge night as a way to finally have you to myself! I hope you share the same feeling like me.” you couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

“Tom…. look, you’re a cute guy, hell I would probably have dated if you just came up to me like a normal person would. But no, you went ahead and killed everyone. You killed my family and friends, and you think I share the same feeling like you! No!” you yelled the tension was thick and Tom was angry.

(6:59 AM)

“I loved you! And they were getting in the way!--” Tom took a pause, “If I can’t have then no one will!” Tom charged at you with his knife. ‘What happened to his gun?’

But you quickly snapped out when he charged at you. You dodged his attack but he stabbed you in the arm. He was about to finish when…

(7:00 AM)

*INSERT SIREN NOISE*

The siren went off meaning the Purge had come to an end. Tom was still going to attack but was stopped when a voice came on, “Stop what you are doing! I repeat stop what you are doing! The Purge has concluded. If anyone does a crime, you will face the consequences.”

Tom stopped what he was doing and looked at you, “Next Purge, I’m going to get you.” Tom then got into his car and drove off.

You felt like you were going to faint from blood loss but then someone drove up to you. “Hey, okay?! Oh my God, we need to get you to the hospital!” they picked you up and carried you into the backseat, and drove you to the nearest hospital.

The radio was on and began to report on tonight’s events. “Just after 7:00 AM, March 22nd Pacific Standard, the Annual Purge was concluded. Reports are coming from all over the nation that this was the most participated Purge yet….

364 days until the next Purge...

THE GOOD ENDING

Bad Ending.

Time skip (6:00 AM, one hour till the Purge ends.)

You even began to party yourself in celebration of surviving. Yo had a couple of drinks but not enough to be completely drunk. You danced with some people. Overall you were having a good time

You could still hear the screams of people and more gunfire further down the street. You creeped out from your hiding place and walked back to the street.

You were horrified by what you were seeing. Dead bodies everywhere, your teacher’s dead bodies, and some people you were dancing with. All dead.

Just then you felt something being injected into your neck. You passed out but before you completely passed out, you got a glimpse of who it was…. It was Tom.

“You're finally mine M/n. I’ll keep you forever…. No one will take us apart….”

PART TWO CAN BE FOUND HERE

#tom holland #x male reader #tom holland x male reader #the purge #violence #good ending #bad ending #kidnapping #psychotic tom holland #mention of nudity

187 notes · View notes

dreamcatcherrs · 4 years ago

Text

3 types of kisses - technoblade

FOREHEAD KISS

so wholesome, I had to put it in here. forehead kisses signal the love he feels for you, which is perfect for him because sometimes he has difficulties talking about his love for you and would MUCH RATHER want to show you love through affection and actions instead of words.

nothing was going right for you.

the entire day had been a disaster from the moment you stepped out of your bed, and up until now, the moment you stepped into your boyfriends apartment.

number one, you had to wake up at 6.30 am for an early meeting at work, only to find that your coffee machine was freaking broken, which meant you’d be absolutely drained during the meeting. and as if that wasn't enough, your train decided to run 20 minutes late, so you didn't even have an option to buy a coffee before work.

number two, your boss had given you the most work a person could handle on possibly the busiest day ever, which meant that you had to stay at work for at least 2 hours longer to catch up on the work you had left.

number three, your boss had yelled at you for not being able to complete the work he’d given you, and even when you tried explaining by saying it was too much work at once for one person, and that no one could possibly finish it in time, he just yelled at you some more.

number four, once you finally got your hands on a cup of coffee, you spilled it all over yourself.

number five, you had to text your boyfriend that you had to cancel your date for tonight, since you had to stay overtime. he had been kind about the situation, as always, but you still felt guilty about having to cancel your plans with him on such short notice.

number six, the moment you stepped out of your work place to head home, it was pouring down with rain, and you had to run to the train station to prevent getting yourself completely soaked. it didn't work that well.

your feet squeaked as you stepped into the apartment, your nostrils taking in the pleasant smell of.. was that lasagna? the air felt warm and nice against your cheeks, like a newly lit fireplace would. you peeled your wet jacket off of your body and kicked off your shoes, staring into the dimly lit dining room.

you moved into the room, eyes landing on the dining table that was lit up with candles, making the room smell like cinnamon. the smell of food intensified and you could now hear the low sound of music playing from a speaker nearby.

with your brows furrowed in confusion, you were about to call out the name of your boyfriend, when he suddenly appeared from the darkness of the living room. once he saw you a smile spread widely across his face.

“oh, you're home baby,” he smiled, opening his arms up to a hug. your heart dropped to your stomach the moment you saw him, finally having something good about today. you felt like crying and yelling and thanking him all at the same time, but instead you dived right into his arms, wrapping yours around his waist.

he was taken aback at first at the powerful grip you had on him, but then pressed your head further into his hoodie-clad chest to bring you some sort of comfort. knowing you, you’d be feeling some sort of guilt from having to cancel the date, but usually you knew it wasn't a big deal to him. he knew you were a hardworking person, which was something he adored and looked up to.

you felt him place a warm hand on the back of your head, making you sigh into his chest, finally able to feel some type of relief from your stressful day.

“hard day?” he asked, and you just nodded, not wanting to talk about it just yet, but just enjoy the much needed silence. he sighed at that, but didn't further the conversation without you wanting to. instead he pressed your body as close to his as possible, rubbing your back up and down.

you stood there for a while, just breathing each other in and hugging it out, before he started pulling away. he looked into your eyes for a moment, seeing the frustration and exhaustion laying behind their glimmer, and then moved the hair away from your forehead to press a gentle kiss onto the soft skin there. you closed your eyes, a small smile stretching onto one side of your face as his lips lingered for a while.

when he pulled away, he grabbed your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, before leading you into the living room and over to the couch. “come on, I made lasagna - your favourite.”

I knew it, you thought.

on the coffee table, two plates of nicely cut out and steaming lasagna were placed in the middle of it, surround by a couple of lit candles and two cups of what looked like freshly made hot chocolate. and of course he hadn't forgotten to hang up the fairy lights you got him a while ago. “wow, this is- this is amazing, baby. thank you so much.” you tilted your head up to kiss his cheek, whereas he let you linger for a moment before leaning in for a kiss on the lips.

you smiled lightly once pulling away, mirroring him, and then crashed onto the couch to finally rest your aching body somewhere. he followed after you, sitting down beside you and resting his arm over your shoulders.

“so, what do you wanna watch on Disney plus?”

HAND KISS

again, very wholesome. everything about him is just so wholesome🥺 prove me wrong. anyways, he would definitely use a hand kiss often as well, but in situations where he felt like leaving a more romantic and heartwarming touch. would def be the type to make sure you weren't uncomfortable or unsure of something before you did it, and would use the hand kiss as a way of telling you he’d be right by your side. sorry, I’m getting too carried away now;

tonight was a very special night.

you had been invited to a large dinner party by one of your friends, who was allowed to bring a plus one. it was a gathering with a lot of known youtubers from the gaming community, and your friend just so happened to be close with one of them.

well, in a way you were also familiar with them. you had met Technoblade a couple of months ago, not knowing anything about his popularity on the internet until you got to know him better. he revealed what he really did for a living, and you couldn't help but to be surprised. overtime you had grown very fond of him, and deep down you knew that your feelings for him was more than just a friendship. but your denial got the best of you and now you're running around your bedroom, panicking over what to wear since you knew he was gonna be there tonight.

of course he was, how could you forget? he’s one of the bigger youtubers who’s friends with even bigger youtubers! and who are you? just some stupid no-one in his life who happens to appear at the same party this night, who doesn't even know anyone!

maybe I shouldn't go, you thought. maybe this is the worst idea and is gonna end up being the worst night of my life.

you picked up your phone, about to text your friend that you had other plans tonight so you couldn't go, but the sound of the doorbell ringing stopped you in your tracks. “oh shit.”

you went downstars, deciding that you couldn't just ignore your friend because they always found a way to get you out of the house anyway. you opened up the door, only to be met with a glamorous looking person, also known as your best friend, dressed in the finest clothes you’d seen them in.

the smile on their face disappeared the moment they saw you. “why aren't you dressed yet?”

you scratched the back of your head, grimacing and not meeting their eyes. “well, you see…”

“ugh, we’re gonna be late! come on, I’ll help you get into something.” they grabbed your hand, charging up the stairs again before you had the chance to protest, and was at your closet in no time.

there had to be a way to get out of this

• • •

there was no way you were getting out of this.

there you were, sitting in one of the lounging chairs all by yourself, sipping on your champagne in boredom. your friend had left for the dance floor with one of her fellow youtube friends, who you know they’d been crushing on for a while, which left you all by yourself in the corner of the room.

so far you had only seen a couple of recognisable faces, yet not the one specific face you were looking for. your friend had ended up picking out a deep red silky look for tonight, shade so dark that it matched the colour of your blood.

you spun your glass around in circles in your hand, bored from this party already since the only person you knew wasn't even there for you to talk with. but suddenly, your train of thought was interrupted once noticing a darkness stretching over your form, the change of lighting confusing you. you looked up to see what happened, only to be faced with the one and only person you’d secretly tried to avoid seeing the whole night.

“why is a person this lovely-looking sitting here all by themselves?” Technoblade’s eyes took in your figure with a light glimmer to them, a lopsided smirk etched onto his face as he spoke. you stared at him with big doe eyes, swallowing a lump that you weren’t aware had formed in your throat. you stared at him in awe, not able to believe that the handsome tux-clad man in front of you was the very same person you’d spoken too not that long ago, who you'd only ever seen in hoodies and t-shirts.

he chuckled at your lack of words, and instead chose to speak up. “I usually never end up in these kind of situations, so I’m not really that good at this… but do you think there's a chance- I mean if you want to- what I’m trying to say is; do you want to dance with me?”

it came as a shock to you - the whole situation was really just unexpected if you were being honest. you couldn't help but to let out a giggle nonetheless at his sudden shyness and stumbling of words, easing up the built-up tension between the two of you. you wondered if he also felt that tension of untold feelings, or if it was all just something you’d made up in your head.

anyway, you nodded at him, smile stretching out on your face, glad to have someone like him to ask for a dance instead of some weird creep like you'd feared. “I’d love to dance with you.”

the two of you moved towards the dance floor, blending in with the crowd of other people, who were too busy admiring one another's presence to notice the arrival of you and him. you looked at the way the other people changed pace in their steps as the song switched to a more slower-paced song, before turning around to see the very handsome man in front of you.

his hand was extended out to you, waiting for you to put yours in the rightful place of his palm. you did so, but not without a warmth weighing down on your cheeks. and just when you thought you couldn't get more flustered, he lifted your hand up to his face, gazing into your eyes as he placed a delicate kiss on your knuckles.

“I’m happy to see you here tonight,” he stated, lacing his fingers with yours to position himself in a suitable way for dancing, other hand resting on your waist as he slowly took control and started moving your bodies in slow motions. “I didn't think you'd be here, but I was pleasantly surprised to say the least.”

his hand on your waist was burning through the silky material of your clothes and onto your skin - well just about everything was burning at this point - and you could still feel the soft plushness of his lips tingling the skin on your hand. you felt like a million fireworks were going off inside your chest, your heart not catching a break from beating so fast. you didn't know what to do with yourself, but managed to let out a small; “I’m glad.”

he showed off his pearly white teeth at your response, nervous yet excited to spend a moment like this with you - and he wished for many more moments like these in the future. if only he knew you felt exactly the same way. though he didn't have to wait for long, for there was a whole night in front of you.

NECK KISS

this man looooooves just cuddling up with you in his arms, leaving small love pecks on your neck when you're just chilling together. most of the time he just kisses your neck out of boredom - or when he isn't fiddling with anything, he’ll just start leaving pecks all over your neck. would be very subtle about it, though and probably isn't the type to kiss you in public. such a cutie though (I’m not simping, you are).

“I’m done!” a tired-looking Techno entered the living room to your pleasure, hair messy and wearing his usual hoodie he wore when recording videos. that one or the grey one that you may or may not be wearing at this very moment.

a smile spread onto your face at his presence. “perfect timing! I was just about to watch harry potter,” you said as he moved to crash onto the bed beside you. he left an long peck on your lips, craving the touch after the last time you’d left him to record alone. “you want to watch that?” you asked him once pulling away from the sweetness of his kisses.

“yes~. I haven't watched that movie since I was, like, sixteen,” he yawned, wrapping his arms around your shoulders to pull your back to his chest.

“you say that like you're old,” you laughed, resting a hand onto one of his by your chest, and with the other one you started the movie.

“I am old,” he responded, fiddling with one of your fingers, taking in the difference in size.

“shut up.”

as the movie progressed, he found it harder and harder not to do something else than just sit and watch. so what better way to distract his mind than to start showing you just how much he enjoyed spending time with you.

a warm smile reached your cheeks when you felt your boyfriend starting his routine of leaving loving pecks across the skin of your neck, making sure to push any hair out of his way to leave space for even more kisses. his hand resting on your chest slid further down, landing on the softness of your belly and rubbing the flesh gently.

you sighed in satisfaction, closing your eyes for a moment. you needed this - silence yet the three important words hanging in the air like silent screams of pure affection. you wished for nothing else in that moment.

kiss after kiss and a few belly rubs later, the two of you fell asleep silently with harry potter playing in the background. the perfect way to finish the night.

* *

hope you enjoyed! who do you want a 3 types of kisses for next? requests are always open, so don't be afraid to request anything! thank you for reading :)

599 notes · View notes

sanchosammy · 4 years ago

Text

Baby, I was going to tell you.

Description: You find out through a friend that your husband has taken another job with the guys. This leaves the two of you to have a very serious talk.

Warnings: Mention of Frankie’s drug problem. Cursing. Slight NSFW. Trouble with getting pregnant. Slightly angst, but made up with fluff.

Note: I did edit this while being very tipsy on a margarita...Yeah. I feel like this isn’t my best work, but it is a very cute story. (This does have Frankie and the reader actively trying to have children. If you’re not a fan of children, this won’t be for you. I just wanted to put that out there!)

Word Count: 4,373

Tonight was your turn to host dinner with your favorite neighbors. Jacob and Hannah, the first married couple you met who was tolerable to hang out with. That was considered a rare find in the marriage world. It was nearly three years back when you and Frankie officially tied the knot and afterwards you searched to find your forever home.

And you did four months after the wedding! A beautiful home to raise a future family. Since then the couple next door had been nothing but pleasant to the two of you. They’ve helped out whenever you needed a hand with a house project that turned out to be a little more than a four hand job, and the couple had attended nearly every party you’ve ever hosted. With that, Jacob and Frankie became close friends over the years. The two of them spending time in Jacob’s ‘man cave’ as he called it. A lame way to say they played pool and talked about who knows what on the weekends.

You didn’t mind though, in your mind it was healthy for him to have someone like that in his life. A friend outside of his old service buddies. Not that you didn’t love the men you’ve come to know, but he needed someone who could normalize his life a little.

It was a beautiful night. The sun setting in the distance as the summer sky remained bright. A soft warmness covering your skin from the perfect weather. The four of you sat at the table on the brick patio in your backyard. The string lights hung above you beautifully setting the mood for the evening, it was a small project you asked Frankie to do a month ago.

He loved to tease you about ‘overworking’ him since you’ve bought the house, but it was only jokes on his end. You knew he loved those projects. It was something to prove he was needed somewhere and you did everything possible to make sure he knew you couldn’t do it without him.

“The meal was delicious as always, (Y/N).” Hannah complimented as she wiped her mouth with a napkin, the plate in front of her now empty. Jacob chimed in an agreement as he complimented the taste of your well-known lasagna. It was a meal you continued to make for events throughout the years and it was always praised.

“Thank you,” You responded, a little flustered by the attention but nonetheless happy with everyone’s satisfaction from the meal. You loved to host these small dinners with friends. A part of you knew deep down this was used as a distraction, nothing but a small activity to keep you busy outside of work. Truthfully, you and Frankie had been trying to have a baby.

Sure, it was only four months into the attempt, but your disappointment had started to stick with you. The excitement running out slowly, and was replaced with a small flame of doubt left. Your doctor assured you that some women’s bodies take time after switching off from their birth control, but that didn’t stop the worry you carried each month that passed. Frankie had been so supportive throughout the whole process as he continued to promise you that the time will come when you become parents.

It was sweet of him. He tried so hard to make you happy and somehow always managed to bring back your smile. It reminded you of why you adored this man so much. You just wanted to be a mom… The mother of his children.

Frankie practically beamed with a look of pride beside you. His arm rested against the back of your chair as he placed a kiss on the side of your temple, his mouth still close to your ear as he commented “Thank you for dinner.”

You returned a soft kiss on his cheek in response with a quiet ‘you’re welcome’. No matter how many years passed, you still looked at him like a love-sick puppy and he looked at you the exact same way. His brown eyes softened whenever he looked at his beautiful wife. The only thing that made him feel complete in life.

You stood up collecting Frankie’s plate, that was before he swiped it from your hand casually while picking up yours as well from the table. “No baby, you cooked. Let me clean up.” He smiled as he started to collect the rest of the plates.

“Allow me,” Hannah chirped in as she picked up the side dishes before you could protest. A small tease came from her as she passed by. You were the type to do it all no matter what, and so Hannah liked to force you to relax once in a while. Both Frankie and her tended to bother you about taking on too much.

You watched the two of them head towards the house to put away the used dinner plates. Hannah talking to Frankie about the new window panels he put up.

Jacob was now standing with you, a small chuckle leaving him. “Your husband is going to kill my bank account. Everytime that woman sees something Frankie did in the yard, she wants to change something about ours.”

You couldn’t stop a small laugh. You grinned as you replied, “I’m sorry about that Jacob, I’m usually the one who put Frankie up to it.”

There was a small pause as Jacob looked at the kitchen window. Hannah kept Frankie in place as she talked about something in the house, that woman could talk forever. Jacob’s smile faded as his eyes came back to yours and his voice came out softer than before. “I know things are probably really rough right now, (Y/N). If you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to call me. No matter the time or day.”

You blinked at him. You had no idea what Jacob was on about, or what he was being so soft hearted for. Did Frankie tell him about the baby trouble? You didn’t think Frankie would spill such personal information. “What are you referring to?”

“Frankie told me about them calling him into deployment… I know that has to be really hard on you. He’s been putting on a brave face about the whole thing but I don’t think he’ll know how to function without you.”

You paused for a brief second and forced out a chuckle. “Frankie isn’t being deployed, Jacob.” He clearly had Francisco mixed with someone else. You would know if your own husband was being shipped off anywhere. Plus, Frankie said he was never going back to that life. He told you himself countless times. Though your smile faltered as you looked over Jacob’s face and the silence between the two of you became deafening.

Your heart dropped into your stomach. Your question came out a little breathless, “Jacob, did Frankie tell you that himself?”

The new information hitting you like a freight train. You watched as the guilt on his face spread. You felt like you couldn’t breathe suddenly and you wanted to burst into tears on the spot.

As Frankie stepped out of the backdoor he saw you. He knew that look, and his movements slowed down. He hasn’t seen that look since the neighborhood cat you secretly fed was hit by a car and you cried for the rest of the week. That heartbroken look hardly showed up on your face and worry shot through him instantly.

“Honey, what’s wrong?” He asked as he came by your side. He noticed the look of remorse plastered on Jacob’s face. The mood in the air was now stiff, and the light from the summer sky was filled with darkness.

You turned towards him and your voice cracked as you asked “You’re being shipped off?”

He stiffened in front of you. He was going to tell you soon but he wanted you to have a few more days of bliss. This isn’t how he wanted you to find out though. Frankie knew you wouldn’t take this well, he had been married to you long enough to know how devastated you’d be hearing the information. He had planned to be sensitive about this as much as he could, and now here he was looking at the tears filling your eyes in front of him.

His shame now matched Jacob’s and that told you everything you needed to know.

“Baby, I was going to tell you.” His words fell short as you pushed past him. Not allowing him to finish his explanation. You couldn’t believe Frankie hid this from you, and told Jacob before you for that matter.

You weren’t deaf upon him calling your name behind you, but you didn’t want to see his face. You shut the backdoor behind you before rushing upstairs towards your shared bedroom. Tears finally surfacing as you let out a sob.

A few minutes passed by as you sat alone on the end of the bed. The bawling slowly died down into a quiet sniffle. You couldn’t believe your husband was leaving. The two of you had never spent time apart like this since you’ve started the relationship.

Frankie assured Jacob that it was alright after hearing him apologize for several minutes, but he was just attempting to be polite for his own sake. He had enough shit to deal with after tonight, and he didn’t want to add a fight with his neighbor on the list. Plus, he needed Jacob’s support for when he left. He needed to know there was someone there to help you while he was gone.

The house was silent when he entered through the backdoor. It became an unbearable reminder in his mind that you’d be alone in the silence while he was God knows where in the jungle. As he walked up the stairs he didn’t miss the sound of your quiet sniffling behind the shut bedroom door. His heart shattering with the confrontation of how he was hurting you.

His knuckles knocked on the wood. He didn’t want to push your boundaries by walking in when you were in a vulnerable position. The sound of you telling him to ‘Go away’ nearly made him wince.

A sigh escaped his lips as he rested his forehead against the door. He couldn’t stand the feeling of you being this upset with him. Your marriage wasn’t perfect by any means, but you had never shut him out like this. He called out keeping his voice gentle “Please let me in, (Y/N).”

There was a pause as he waited. You shuffled to the door and opened it without looking at him. You didn’t want to face him, but you couldn’t leave him outside the door like a kicked dog. You returned to your spot on the bed without a word.

Frankie awkwardly followed and placed himself next to you.

“I’m sorry,” He whispered. He couldn’t take it. He was the reason you looked this upset and that killed him inside.

“This is another thing with the guys, isn’t it?” You asked as you finally looked at him.

He nodded his head faintly. His eyes studied your expression and it was filled with disappointment. You brought your hands to your face trying to remain calm. Your relationship had always been filled with communication and you wanted to keep it that way.

“I’m just so…” You bit your lip feeling the tears coming back. “I’m so hurt. You didn’t even ask me, Frankie. Why would you do something this dangerous while we’re trying to have a baby? I thought you were finished with all of this when we got married.”

He found himself forcing back his own emotions. He wasn’t comfortable with crying; but as with everything in his life, it was different when it came to you. He hasn’t felt this kind of guilt since your second year of marriage, when you found out about his little cocaine problem he tried to hide from you. That was a war within itself that left the two of you crying on the floor a couple of times because you refused to let him spiral throughout his recovery.

He cleared his throat trying to push away the burn. “I know…” He wrapped his arms around you trying to soothe your shaking figure. “I was done… but Santigato needs a pilot, and I thought we could use the extra money for the baby. I thought I was doing the right thing for us.”

You were upset still, but his words melted your heart. That’s Frankie for you. He tried so hard to be the perfect husband. And he was in your eyes. He was such a good man and he did everything for you without a complaint, but he personally struggled to feel like he was enough. A part of you knew deep down Frankie had never forgiven himself for the cocaine situation he had put you through. He carried the guilt on his shoulders, no matter how many times you told him that it wasn’t something for him to feel guilty about. That never stopped Frankie from trying to do more to show his worth and love for you.

“Money isn’t worth your life.” You looked up at him. You noticed his eyes were glossed over before he kissed your temple to hide away his pain. He forced out a strained ‘I know’.

You knew that you could guilt Frankie out of this mission, but that seemed unfair to do to him. He wanted to do this because it would prove that he could provide, and that he was the husband he wanted to be. Could you really push down your own fears to allow your husband on some stupid operation so he can have self closure?

You let out a sigh. You shifted to hug him back and his arms tightened around you in response. You mumbled into his chest “... How long would you be gone?”

He stiffened in realization that you were considering letting him do this.

“I don’t know…A week or two.” His hand started to rub up and down your back. He knew this was stressful for you, and that’s why he was even more grateful that you were considering.

“Is it…” You wanted to ask if it was dangerous, but of course it was. Everything he did with them was dangerous. You silently recalled the stories he told you about the shit he did before you started dating. You take in a deep breath and change the question, “How risky?”

“I told Pope I wasn’t doing anything with active fire.”

You hummed in acknowledgment. At least he put down a ground rule. That didn’t change the fact that anything could go wrong though, and that’s what scared the hell out of you. It was hard to make a call on this when you were wrapped safely in his arms. His cologne surrounded you and brought peace like a favorite candle.

It dawned upon you. “Frankie, what about your pilot license?” You questioned, confused. He was still under review, he couldn’t legally fly anything right now. His chest vibrated as an uncomfortable chuckle came from him.

“It doesn’t really matter in this case… Will knows a guy.”

“Sounds legal.” You joked. He gave a half-hearted smirk at the comment.

You pulled back from his arms with a hesitant nod. He was surprised that you were giving him the green light to do this. His heart beat a little faster as it reminded him of another reason why he loved you.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” You collected some air for a second. Forcing yourself to come with the terms that this was going to happen. “If you feel like this is something you need to do… Then I’m here to back you up.”

You blinked before suddenly his lips were on yours. You didn’t hesitate to kiss him back and fall backwards on the bed. He was above you as he leaned away slightly, his chest pressing against yours with heavy breathes.

“I love you.” His brown eyes looked over your face. He studied every part of it. He had seen it so many times and somehow each time it managed to take his breath away. How did he land someone like you?

“I love you too, Frankie.” You smiled at him. Your hand reached up to run through his hair. You liked when he kept his hair long like this, and so he never cut it too short. He didn’t care either way since he covered it with a ball cap most of the time anyway.

You didn’t notice his hand started to explore further until your breath hitched. You weren’t sure when his hand slid under your dress, his fingers tracing the bottom of your panties causing you to freeze from the contact.

“Francisco.” You shivered from his touch, which only brought out that shit eating grin of his.

“What?” He played innocent before he started to press kisses in a trail down your neck. Pleased when he heard the soft moan that escaped your lips after he left a love-bite. He could feel himself practically drunk off your perfume alone. “I just want to show you how much I’ll miss you.”

You started to lean into his touch as his fingers pulled at the soft fabric. He lifted himself up to look at you again. The need in your eyes making him weak. You stopped him by his wrist and he paused immediately.

“What about Jacob and Hannah?” You blinked at the sudden memory of your neighbors downstairs. The last thing you needed was your friends hearing you moan from the upstairs window.

“Oh,” Frankie breathed out in relief. He couldn’t help but chuckle at the idea that you’re worried about the neighbors after everything that happened tonight. “I sent them home after you went inside, honey.”

“Dammit!” You cursed quietly. “I didn’t get a chance to give them dessert, I made cheesecake.”

You frowned at him a little regretful of how the night ended with them. He laid there propped up on his elbow admiring your beauty. He was so beyond whipped for you, and it was the best part of his life. His smile returned as he leaned forward pressing a soft kiss on your lips before he pulled back again.

“Too bad for them,” He commented and you watched him move to the spot between your legs. His hands busied themselves unbuttoning the sundress you wore as he looked back at you. Your cheeks flushed as you realized where he was going with this. “I found something else sweet to eat.”

He had only left a couple of days ago, but you missed him so much. The two of you had never spent more than a weekend apart. Plus, you had something important to tell him. Your hands nervously shake as you look at the white stick.

There it was in front of you… The little pink lines you’ve been praying to see. Tears pooled your eyes as emotion took over again. You were filled with an indescribable type of joy. You had no idea which night was the reason for this surprise because honestly your sex life with Frankie was a regular occurance. And now you had a new reason to be thankful for that.

You had taken the test a few hours before but it felt so unreal that you continued to come back and look again. You did a couple of them just to be sure, and everytime the pretty color appeared in front of your eyes. As happy as you were inside from the news, this only heightened the state of your anxiety because Frankie wasn’t home.

You weren’t even sure if you should tell him until he came back. A part of you was worried this would be a distraction that could throw him off, and you didn’t want him to have another thing to worry about at home.

Looking in the mirror as you placed the test back on the counter. The soft smile beautifully placed on your face. You wished Frankie was here to experience the moment with you. You imagined you’d be squeezed into a hug right about now.

You jumped as your cell phone brought you back to reality. The screen lit up from the spot on your bed waiting for you to pick up the call. An unrecognizable number from Brazil…. Frankie?

“Hello?” You questioned nervously.

“Hey, it’s me.” Frankie’s voice was on the other end. You relaxed at the sound. He was safe right now.

“Hey! How’re you holding up?” You asked.

“Uh,” He let out a small huff before he continued. “Everything is planned out… Which means you might not hear from me for a few days.”

“Yeah, I figured so.”

You knew this part was coming, he told you in advance. Once everything was sorted out that means he’d be out of service until they’re back on their way home. That didn’t stop the small pit of sadness from washing over you.

. It was going to be difficult to not know if he was alive for several days.

“Hey, hey,” He called out softly into the phone trying to bring back your attention to him. He knows how easy it is to spiral into every ‘what if’ possible. “I know what you’re doing. It’ll be fine, sweetheart.”

You listened with the phone pressed against your ear. The sound of him shuffling away from what sounded like the guys in the background. He continued talking in a hushed tone for privacy, “This will be good for us… Money for the future baby, right?”

It was an attempt to cheer you up and keep your spirits high about the whole ordeal. Your view shifted back to the bathroom as you let out a shaky breath. You wanted to tell him now, it seemed impossible to keep him out of the loop for several days. What if Frankie died never knowing? The thought made you feel sick.

“Actually, I…” You stuttered out. You paused as your mind raced between the idea of not telling him and spilling out the truth right now. No, no, you couldn’t hold this in. You had to tell him in case anything happened. Consider it encouragement to come home.

“Francisco?”

“Yeah? I’m here, baby.” He waited patiently as there was a small pause on your end. His nerves started to feel uneasy by your sudden hesitation. His own what ifs started to float around his brain.

“I’m pregnant.” You say it in one motion. Not rushed, but quick.

His eyebrows scrunched together and he stood still in the room alone for a moment. His mind trying to process what you just told him through the phone. He heard the words clearly, but his brain wouldn’t connect them together.

“What?” He asked dumbfounded.

“Frankie, I’m pregnant. The test was positive.”

His breath hitched and his heart stopped, “Wait, really?”. The two of you talked about becoming parents for so long, and he tried to be encouraging the past few months. It seemed unreal to finally hear the words out loud. “I-... This is… We’re going to be parents.”

“Yeah,” Your voice broke, but you were filled to the brim with happiness. “We’re going to be parents, Frankie.”

You heard it, and you almost didn’t believe your ears. There was a sob on the other end of the phone. He tried to hold it in as he covered his mouth with his hand, a couple of tears falling down his face in the process. Frankie hardly cried like this. It was the type of cry that comes from the bottom of someone’s soul and it only surfaced if somebody died or a fucking mirale happened to you.

“Francisco?”

“I’m here, baby.” He repeated the words he used earlier. This time his voice strained from emotion. He wiped his face with his hand trying to collect himself before he had to return back to his friends. “I’m just overwhelmed… In the best way possible. Fuck, we’re going to be parents!”

You let out a small laugh trying to stop your own crying. “I’m so happy, I can’t wait for you to come home.”

He chewed on his bottom lip for a moment before replying, his voice leveled out now “Let’s celebrate when I come home. Whatever you want to do, I’ll do it. What about that restaurant you’re always talking about, baby?”

You snorted. “Frankie, you hate that place.”

It was true… It was overpriced and he didn’t think the food was worth the forty minute drive, but that didn’t matter to him. He just wanted to spoil you for everything you’ve done. You allowed him to come on this stupid operation in the first place, and now you’re pregnant with his child.

“It doesn’t matter, I know you love their fettuccine alfredo.”

“Frankie Morales, you know my weakness.” You hummed into the phone.

He chuckled in response before replying “How do you think you got pregnant in the first place, sweetheart?”

You burst into laughter “You’re terrible for that.”

His laughing was cut short as someone walked in the room. You heard them mumble out ‘we have to go’ before Frankie replied an okay back.

“I have to go, mi amor.”

The nervousness returned as you were forced to remember this was it for now. You weren’t going to hear from him for a couple of days and you’d have to hope everything went smoothly on his end. “Be careful, please?”

“Of course. I’ll be home in a few days, okay?” He said the words like a promise rather than a reassurance. “Don’t stress yourself out over this, and take care of yourself until I come back. I love you, (Y/N).”

“I love you too, Francisco.”

The phone clicked and the call ended. He had such a new fire in him now. His heart pounding in his chest was only a reminder that he lived another day to be needed. His focus was now on coming home in one piece. He had a wife and kid on the way, and nothing would stop him from coming home to you.

Taglist: @warrentrash @mandoclan

#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales fanfic #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfic #triple frontier x you #triple frontier x reader #frankie morales fluff #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfic #sammywrites #sanchosammy #triple frontier catfish #catfish x reader #catfish x you

203 notes · View notes

hobbitingryffindor · 3 years ago

Text

Don’t respond after 9 pm

So I've never written fanfic before, but apparently, I'm pissed at Jane. Please be kind, but also let me know if I should continue. I have a few other rules and scenes in mind. I have no idea if this will grow into anything more. Constructive feedback would be great.

___

Maura was ruminating. It was never good when she couldn’t get through her Saturday morning yoga session, but these days, it was becoming the norm. So after she finished her cup of tea, she locked herself in her yoga room, rolled out her yoga mat, and settled in with herself.

She had rules. They were new, and it was hard to keep to them some days, but they were there because she knew better. She knows she deserves more. She may not have had an attentive family growing up, but she knows her worth, or at least she’s gotten better at reminding herself. She knows what they have goes beyond friendship. She also knows it will never be more. Jane just keeps holding back the final piece of the puzzle. She could resign herself to a lifetime of this sexually charged and emotionally mediocre but never fulfilling relationship OR she could take a step back from Jane and a step forward for herself. But last night she forgot. She forgot the first rule she put in place almost a month ago.

1 - Don’t respond to Jane after 9 pm

Recognizing the anxious feeling that started in her chest, she told herself that it was a slip-up and it wouldn’t happen again. But she couldn’t help but grab her phone and reread last night’s messages.

10:36: J - Hey, you still up?

10:42: M - Just finished Bass’ enrichment and heading up to bed.

It had been such a simple response, it just floated out of her fingertips. She was so used to just always responding to Jane.

10:43: J- Enrichment? You can just say that you were in the sandbox hiding food for Bass to find.

10:44: M- Fine yes, I was reading his namesake’s new foreword in “Skeletal biology and bioarchaeology of the Northwestern Plains” while bass dug up the cactus leaves and strawberries I hid in his sandbox.

10:44: J- You make my night of watching the Sox lose seem like an exciting night

10:45: M- What can I say? We love to party over here.

10:45: J- I don’t know when it started, but you’ve gotten really good at sarcasm

10:46: M- You must be rubbing off on me ;-)

As Maura reread that line, she couldn’t help but cringe a little. She really couldn’t stop herself from going there last night, it was yet another small slip up, that showed how their friendship was always a little more than friendship.

10:59: J- I feel like I haven’t seen you at all this week, is the morgue backlogged?

11:04: M- It’s no busier than usual. Actually a little less so without a murder yet this month.

11:04: J- Give it time, Boston can’t go more than 2 weeks without a new murder. Have you been in court on other cases this week? I went to see if you could grab lunch a few times and I never caught you.

11:05: M- We must have just missed each other, I did lunch out of the office a few times.

11:07: J- You going to fancy places without me now?

11:09: M - Really Jane, any place that doesn’t allow jeans, you label as fancy. But no, a friend from my residency, Erica, did a few guest lectures at BCU. I caught one of her lectures and we had lunch a few times.

11:09: J- I see how it is, replacing me with other genii.

Reading this for a second time feels like a needle in her chest, last night it paralyzed her, she didn’t know how to respond. She wasn’t replacing Jane, per se. This was also the point last night where she realized her mistake in responding to Jane’s late text. Even now, she still isn’t sure she handled it correctly.

11:18: J- Any plans for tomorrow?

11:20 M- While genii is correct, you can just say geniuses, you don’t have to try so hard. And, no I’m not replacing you. I was planning on browsing Newbury St in the afternoon.

11:21 J- Great, so I’ll pick you up at 2, I’ll carry the bags and then we can hit up Eataly for dinner? We haven’t been there in a while.

11:25 M- That’s okay Jane, I know you don’t enjoy my long shopping ventures, you don’t have to come. And I’ve got dinner plans, I’m sorry. But I’ll see you Sunday night for dinner.

After that, it was radio silence from Jane. Even after all these years, all the social cues Jane’s helped her learn, she still doesn’t know how to read the silence. Last night she was torn. She wanted to hang out with Jane but didn’t. Now she had to live with rejecting Jane’s plans, and what felt like a rejection of Jane herself.

That’s what brought her here, meditating as the sun was rising, or trying to anyway. Maura shook herself out and realized she was going to need a little help this morning clearing her mind. So she opened up the Calm app and resigned herself to a guided meditation. Maura went through the motions of her day, finishing off with an overzealous stop at Diane Von Furstenberg’s on Newbury just because. She still hadn’t heard from Jane and was trying to tell herself it was okay, they were okay, they were just both adjusting to this new normal. Maura hadn’t figured out what this new normal was supposed to be, but she knew she was unhappy with how Jane and she were a couple in every way, except in the way that mattered. Their friendship was unhealthy as it was. If they were only going to be friends, Maura was going to start making space in her life for other friends and possibly a lover or two. She can’t pinpoint when it happened, but her very active and healthy sex life seemed to slowly dry up the closer she and Jane got.

______________

Dressed in her new Midi dress, and a brand new pair of St. Laurent sandals, she waived to Angela across the courtyard as she headed off to meet Erica. Driving to the Chart House, she couldn’t help but reflect and acknowledge that Eric’s timing was creating a good distraction for her. She and Erica had done their residencies together, they hadn’t been best of friends, but she was always warm to Maura and tried to include Maura in her social circle. A few years after Maura moved to Boston, she reached out when she landed in Providence doing a Post Doc Fellowship at Brown. They’d do dinner a few times a year, trade interesting journal articles, nothing special, but it was nice to have a friend outside of BPD. When BCU invited Erica to guest lecture for the week, Maura decided she’d just drop in on the first lecture, which led to a couple of lunches earlier in the week, and a celebration dinner as Erica was just offered a tenure track faculty position starting in the fall. Pulling up to the valet station, she decided that this was just what she needed to expand her social circle a bit. She’d enjoy her evening, celebrate Erica’s new position and enjoy the late spring evening.

______________

Like clockwork on Sunday around noontime, the Rizzoli’s started to filter into her home. Angela always led the parade, bringing groceries and starting the prep process. Over the next couple of hours Jane, her brothers, little TJ, Frost, Korsak, Kiki, and even Susie sometimes would wander in and fill her house. When she invited Angela to live in the guest house almost 4 years ago, she never thought it was going to be permanent, nor did she think she’d enjoy having her there as much as she does. For all of Angela’s meddling and snooping in Jane’s life, she’d been nothing but respectful of Maura’s boundaries and privacy. Maura treasured how their patchwork family considered her house their gathering place, when it was full, it felt like the warm home she yearned for as a child. The amazing dinners, even if sometimes unhealthy, were a vehicle for that love and inclusion Maura had spent over 30 years searching for. She’d found it with Jane and her family, but she still craves more. She wants more than a patchwork family, she wants her own family.

As Maura was finishing up working in the garden beds Tommy and TJ arrived. By the time she’d entered the kitchen freshly showered and ready for Angela to put her to work, she saw Jane and Frankie had joined Tommy in watching a basketball game. Maura greeted everyone while looking at the TV, she noticed no one was wearing a green jersey so she knew Boston wasn’t playing, which usually boded well for her couch and rugs. TJ was in his high chair feeding himself some plain pasta while Angela sang to him. Maura and Angela quickly fell into their rhythm with this week’s batch of Ragu simmering on the stove. By the time the lasagna was in the oven, Frost, Korsak, and Kiki had arrived and, Angela and Maura joined the gang in the living room to snack on some arancini before dinner.

While Maura and Angela always cooked, the most relaxing part of Sunday dinners was when Jane and Maura cleaned up. Never fail the boys would head out not long after dessert and the games were over. And Jane in her way of appreciating her mother would kick her back to the guest house for an early night, while she took charge of cleaning up the kitchen.

“Another glass of wine while you work?” Jane asked Maura while grabbing the bottle

Maura just put her glass in front of Jane while nodding for more. The pots and pans were washed, the dishwasher had already started its cycle and Jane and Maura were moving to the living room to straighten up before settling in to catch up on their week. Normally all this happened with a comfortable level of conversation between them, but tonight, there was a little more silence than usual. With blankets folded and the remote located, they settled into the couch, each sitting against an arm, facing each other.

“You know mom asked me how your date went last night, I didn’t even know you were seeing anyone” Jane started.

“It wasn’t a date, I told you I was going to dinner with Erica, she’s just accepted an offer at BCU.”

“No, you said you had lunch with Erica” with a slight hint of annoyance that only Maura could pick up on. “I didn’t know you guys were doing dinner, I thought you might have been hiding a new boyfriend from me”

“No, no new boyfriend Jane. Although that would be nice or maybe a girlfriend, I haven’t dated a woman since I first moved to Boston”

Jane nodded, her eyes a little bigger than normal, sometimes Maura could swear Jane forgot she was pansexual.

“What about you? You seeing anyone new?” Maura asked, mostly to take the heat off of her. She didn’t know what was worse, talking about her lackluster dating life or trying to appear supportive of Jane's dating life when all she wanted was to be the person dating Jane.

“No, although Frost mentioned his old college roommate is single. I can’t believe I’m even entertaining the idea of letting him set me up.”

“You should at least meet him, if Frost is setting you up, I’m sure he’s a good man.” Maura grinned through a fake smile.

“I don’t know” Jane responded, Maura saw the walls going up “ I don’t want to talk about dating. Is Erica going to move to Boston? You know you’ve never introduced us, are you scared I’ll embarrass you?” Jane half-joked, changing the topic.

“No Jane, you have to stop with the self-deprecating humor, you know I’m not embarrassed by you. And yes, she needs to finish teaching a summer seminar at Brown, and then she’ll move up here.” The next words fell out of her mouth as soon as they occurred to her “I should see if she wants to come to next Sunday’s dinner.” Seeing Jane’s small annoyance grow into jealously, she redirected. “She can meet everyone, but please don’t interrogate her for college stories. You already know I was weird and awkward, you don’t need more things to tease me about!”

Jane took the bait “Ohhhh, I didn’t even think of that! I wonder if she’s got pictures!!

Maura just rolled her eyes, relieved that the tension was broken. She really did want Jane and everyone else to accept Erica, she remembered what it was like moving back to Boston and not having anyone. The rest of the night passed quickly, Maura kept the topics to mostly work or Boston politics. Jane could rant about local politics for hours and it didn’t put Maura at risk of gazing at Jane like she wanted to take her upstairs. A little before 11, Jane sighed and made her excuses about getting back to Jo before she relieved herself on the rug again. Pre-rules Maura might have made some comment about how much wine Jane had and how she should stay the night. Post-rules Maura kept her mouth shut. As Maura locked the door behind Jane, she couldn’t help but hope that just maybe, with some delicate balancing, she’d be able to move on from Jane and keep her as a friend.

________

Later that week Maura found herself at the Robber with the whole group, even Susie joined them. Maura was finding her new footing and it felt nice, it gave her a boost of confidence. Jane no longer acted as her interpreter when Frost made a joke, Korsak no longer felt the need to censor his dirty jokes and Susie actually had a pretty foul mouth once she had a few drinks. More than ever she noticed how breaking down her walls, allowed others to break their own down around her. She didn’t feel like Queen of the Dead anymore, she was Maura. As the night stretched on the table shuffled around a bit, Korsak left to meet Kiki, Frankie and Nina joined, Susie went home and Frost tried his luck with a pretty blonde at the bar.

Maura didn’t even notice how slowly Jane crept to her, close enough that her side was against Maura and her arm draped behind Maura across the back of the booth. But she did notice when the vibe between Jane and her started to mirror that of Frankie and Nina, right down to Jane ordering Maura another drink before checking with her. Maura and Jane were a couple, they couldn’t help it. The small touches, the laughing into each other’s sides, even the stolen glances. It no longer felt like hanging out, it felt like they were on a double date. It was too much for Maura, she excused herself to the bathroom to regroup. Looking at herself in the mirror, she scolded herself. She had to get out of there, she needed more distance. How could she possibly have her own relationship if she always ended up with Jane?

“I didn’t realize how late it had was,” Maura said marching up to the booth. “I’m going to head home. I’ll see you all in the morning? Those cultures should be ready by 10, I’ll page you when I have the report ready.” All of a sudden Maura infused a formalness into the air that wasn’t there before. Frankie raised his eyebrows but said nothing. It was weird for Maura to leave without Jane, or at least inviting Jane back to her house.

“I’ll leave with you” Jane started to get up.

“Oh no, that’s fine, I’m parked just across the street. I’ll be fine, stay, enjoy the rest of your beer” Maura responded with a slightly stern note. Jane nodded, “Party pooper, leaving me with these love doves” gesturing to Frankie and Nina, while they responded with mock offense. As Maura walked away, she didn’t see Frankie lean in and whisper to Jane.

Once Maura settled into bed for the evening she decided it was time for her to get out there. Even if it meant her joining one of those annoying dating sites. It was better to be trying than pining. Last week Erica had suggested How About We, it was worth at least signing up. She decided that it couldn’t hurt more than she was already hurting. While she hadn’t opened up to Erica about how frustrated she was with her’s and Jane’s relationship, she had expressed a desire to get out there more and Erica had offered a few bits of advice. If she couldn’t go to Jane about this, it was nice to at least have another friend to commiserate with about dating. As soon as she completed her profile, her phone beeped and a notification popped up on the screen.

11:17 PM

Jane Rizzoli

You awake?

Clicking her screen off, Maura put her phone on her nightstand and turned over for what would be a very uncomfortable night’s sleep.

#rizzoli and isles #rizzoli & isles #fanfic #Fanfiction #rizzles #rizzles fic #jane rizzoli #maura isles

43 notes · View notes

collecting-stories · 4 years ago

Text

Invisible - Luke Patterson

Summary: You and Luke finally admit your feelings to each other.

A/N: My first time writing JATP...

Julie and the Phantoms Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

The piano was more of a prop at this point than anything, practically holding you up as you leaned against it, tapping at the same key over and over, the pout playing on your lips unmistakable. Mrs. Harrison had given out instructions at the beginning of the month that she wanted an original composition by each student in the class. It was a simple enough assignment and honestly, you’d been finished for weeks now but there was no way you get up in front of the class and perform the song you had written.

When Flynn had badgered you last week you had sworn that you didn’t have a crush on Luke. He was just Julie’s bandmate and, of course, a ghost. “You always want what you can’t have, I was worried that included him.”

Luke, you were beyond positive, did not feel the same way about you. He was focused on the band and, possibly, figuring out what they needed to eventually crossover. Besides, you were pretty sure that he liked Julie. Their chemistry together on stage was undeniable and maybe it was just for show, but you doubted there was a chance with him at all. So, you lied and told Flynn that you didn’t like him but then every song you wrote lately was about him and you knew you could sing any of them in front of the class.

“Hey!”

“Crap!” You jumped, almost falling off the piano bench. You looked over to your bed where Luke was laying, sprawled across the comforter, smiling innocently at you. “You have got to stop doing that!”

Whatever had happened when the club stamps disappeared from their wrists, you couldn’t be entirely sure. All you knew was that you could actually hug them now, high five, fist bump, hold hands with. Alex had even attempted to give you a piggyback that had ended in a mess of limbs on the ground. But they were still ghosts. Cute, talented, way more attractive in a cut off shirt than he should be, ghosts.

“Sorry,” He sat up, swinging his legs around to hang off the side of the bed, “thought you were coming over to Julie’s?”

You cringed. You had promised to go to Julie’s to play them the song before Friday but you had chickened out. Maybe it wouldn’t be obvious to Luke or the guys but there was no tricking Julie or Flynn, they would know immediately that any song you sang was about Luke. You had essentially laid all your feelings out there for him and there was no way you could perform something so personal in front of him.

“I was...I’m just still...ironing out some kinks.” You shrugged, running your fingers over the keys experimentally.

You had spent plenty of late nights with Luke, in your room writing music, cataloging snippets of lyrics that you pretended weren’t about him but the truth was that he was all you could think about. The change they’d gone through after the Orpheum had only made it harder to deny how you felt.

“I thought you were finished your song,” Luke said, coming around the piano. He reached for the sheet music on the stand but you grabbed it first, shoving it back into your bag.

The look of hurt that flickered was quickly replaced by curiosity as Luke took a seat beside you on the bench. “It just needs some work.”

“What have ya got so far?” He asked, not letting up. Luke was nothing if not persistent, especially when he thought someone was holding out on telling him something and you definitely were. He leaned close to you, trying to goad you into showing him the sheet music.

“Nothing worth showing off, which is why I didn’t go to Julie’s,” you admitted, “I’m supposed to have a song by tomorrow and so far...I’ve got nothing.” Not entirely true but you couldn’t tell him the real reason you were avoiding Julie’s house.

Before Luke could answer you, your mom called up the stairs for dinner. It was a welcomed distraction, an excuse to leave the room and hopefully the conversation behind. Maybe you could write a song about your mom’s lasagna or going to the mall with friends once you were done dinner. Something superficial and dumb. You left Luke in your room and headed downstairs to eat.

That, of course, was your first mistake. Trusting Luke not to snoop was always a risk, he was a naturally inquisitive person, to put it nicely. The moment you left your room he was pulling your sheet music and your notebook out to see if the song you had written was as bad as you claimed it was. He skimmed the first two lines, smiling when he recognized the hook that he’d helped you with three nights ago when you couldn’t sleep and he was annoyed with Alex and Reggie.

He hummed along to the chords as he read the lyrics, not even realizing, as he went, that he was frowning. This song that you said wasn’t very good was fantastic but that’s not why he was upset. Whoever you had written about, it was obvious that you liked them, a lot. Thinking that he’d helped you write a love song for someone else stung more than he thought it would. He knew what Alex would say, that if anyone shouldn’t get together it was a ghost and a lifer but he couldn’t help the crush he had on you.

“Hey!” It was your turn to spook him, Luke’s head snapping up to look at you, eyes wide for a second before he grinned sheepishly.

“Sorry, just thought maybe a second set of eyes might help.”

“Luke,” you sighed, incapable of actually being upset with him, “I told you it wasn’t done.”

“It definitely is. It’s great, honestly.” He replied. He might not love that you were writing some guy a love song but he wasn’t gonna lie about your talent.

“Oh, uh, thanks.” You replied, standing on the other side of the piano, taking the first few pages to look them over.

“So, who’s the guy?” He asked. Luke’s inquisitiveness got the best of him every time...he couldn’t help wondering who had stolen your attention so much that you wrote about them.

“What?” You asked, looking up at him as if you were surprised by the question. You weren’t, you didn’t want him seeing the song because you knew that he would ask about the subject and you couldn’t lie to Luke. You wished you could, it would make things a whole lot easier if you could pretend like the song was about some guy from school but you hadn’t really ever liked anyone the way you liked Luke.

“The song...come on, who did you write it about?” He asked.

“No one,” you replied too quickly, “just, you know...a song. About, just like...made up stuff.”

“Made up stuff? I know you...I know that’s real emotion on the page and not some ‘made up stuff’. So...who?” He pushed.

“Like I said, no one.”

Luke nodded slowly, appraising the few pages that he still had in his hands, “okay, okay...I don’t believe you.”

“Well, you don’t have to but it’s true.”

“This is way too-”

“Luke!” You stressed, “just drop it.”

“Why?”

You groaned, sitting down on your bed and flopping onto you back, now he was going to antagonize you about why you didn’t want him to know who the person you liked was. And if he knew that, if he knew anything, you were positive that he would put two and two together and figure out that it was him. Luke called your name and you groaned again.

“Look I wrote the song about a guy that I really, really like who totally doesn’t even like me and like, I might as well be a ghost like you guys because I’m totally invisible to him and it’s so frustrating because...ugh.” You covered your face with your hands, mumbling through them, “I want him to like me but it’s never gonna happen.”

“Maybe just, tell this guy you like him...show him this song or something?” Luke suggested, every word feeling heavy on his tongue. The last thing he wanted to tell you was to go ahead and pursue this guy. “I mean, you’re you, who wouldn’t notice you or like you?” He certainly had and did.

“No way Luke,” you huffed, “that is like the last thing I wanna do...I do not need rejection right now.”

“Come on,” Luke got up from the piano and came over to sit with you on the bed. He grabbed your arms, pulling you to sit up with him. “No one in their right mind is gonna reject you.”

“I appreciate the confidence.”

“Doesn’t sound like it,” he laughed, prodding your sides with his fingers in an effort to make you laugh.

“Stop!” You pushed his hands away but he was already smiling.

“Look, I’ll even help you,” he offered, “tell me who you like and I’ll help you, ya know, tell ‘em.”

“How will you help me tell them?” You asked, skeptically.

“I’ll help you with the song.”

You bit your bottom lip, thinking over what he had said about you telling your crush and what he said about helping you. “Okay, will you play the guitar part for it? I think the piano is nice but I kinda wanna hear it with the guitar.”

“Yeah, totally.” He nodded, gulping down the feeling of dread that settled over him. He could just see it, this song going well and you landing this guy you were clearly crazy about. All those sappy lyrics you wrote about love and longing were all for someone else.

He grabbed the guitar from its stand as you made room on the bed for him to actually play. You listened to him play the opening chords, missing your que the first time and then stopping him before he could get to it the second time. You reached out and grabbed his hand.

“What’s up?” He asked, thinking he had played something wrong.

You knew this was a massive risk, one you could potentially regret forever. One you were certain you would regret forever. But you took the chance anyway. “I just, I have to be honest with you about the song...” you trailed off.

“What about it?”

“The guy I wrote it for...it was you.”

Time felt frozen for a moment as Luke sat there, taking in this new piece of information. “Me?” He finally said.

“Yeah...I really like you. I know it’s super crazy cause, ya know...but I can’t help it.” You explained. “So?”

A smile crossed Luke’s face, “how could you ever think that I wouldn’t like you back?” He asked, “I’m crazy about you.”

“Seriously?” You knew you must’ve looked completely shell-shocked but you couldn’t help it. You had written off your crush as one side for a while now and hearing him tell you that it wasn’t felt infinitely better than you could describe.

“Yeah, of course.” He nodded. He pushed the guitar away so that he could scoot closer to you, his hand reaching up to lay on your cheek, pulling you into a kiss. You couldn’t even begin to describe what it felt like, oddly warm, completely perfect, as if the two of you were meant to fit together like this. Luke pulled away first, eyes meeting yours as he licked his lips. “God, this feels so surreal.”

“Well, you are a ghost.” You joked, stealing another quick kiss.

#luke patterson x reader #luke patterson x y/n #luke patterson x you #luke patterson imagine #luke patterson fanfic #luke patterson fanfiction #luke patterson fic #julie and the phantoms fic #julie and the phantoms fanfic #julie and the phantoms fanfictions #julie and the phantoms imagine #jatp fanfic #jatp fanfiction #jatp fic #jatp imagine #collecting stories imagine

237 notes · View notes

imagine-docx · 5 years ago

Text

sneaky.

Summary: Being neighbours with a cute boy has some perks. Also, Sam is being the best wingman (no pun intended) he possibly could. [neighbour!chubby!buckyau]

Warnings: Swearing, and some insecurity mentions and some body shaming.

A/N: Hello, quarantine has me writing again as I am officially done uni for the year. So please enjoy this jumble of different AU’s thrown into one. - Amanda

➽───────────────❥

You have lived next to James Barnes for the last two and a half years and you guys never really talked, just smiles and nods whenever you see him, and occasionally swapping mail that accidentally went to your respective houses, this was mostly because your schedules conflict but also Bucky didn’t know how to talk to a cute girl but he won't mention that part.

You’ve heard rumours about how he was a serial abuser and other nonsense from the neighbourhood, because honestly Anita from five houses down creates random fantasies she might as well be an author.

He was so used to getting stares and glares for his left prosthetic and round stomach, due to the rumours that were spread around the neighbourhood and he always shied away from contact with anyone in the area. You on the other hand? God literally sent you, so warm and loving.

He was working on his car one day, while his cat was outside with him. Looks back to see Alpine and doesn’t see his cat, slight panic until he sees that Alpine wasn’t there, but that cat is everywhere so it doesn’t bother him that much.

He heard soft lo-fi music coming from across the fence, indicating that you were outside. He looks over and sees you sitting there, on your computer between papers and notebooks and his cat sitting with you.

To you, Alpine wasn’t much chaos, in fact, a designer, he would randomly paw at something and it clicked with you that the two outfits look good.

“I’m so sorry, my cat is bothering you.” Bucky called out.

“Not at all, he constantly is spending time over here, love him like he’s my own,” you smiled at him.

“Thank you for looking out for him,” he said, looking down at his feet.

“Not a problem. You look exhausted, come get some coffee!” You exclaimed, with the brightest smile he’s ever seen, plastered onto your face.

“Are you sure?” He didn’t want your reputation to be tainted by having him over for some coffee.

“Come! How do you take your coffee?” you said, trekking back to close all your notebooks because honestly, it's not everyday that your cute neighbour talks to you and work can always wait.

You went inside to make both of you a cup of coffee, his black, and yours with some cream and sugar. You also plated two lemon bars for the two of you, and grabbed a little yogurt from your fridge for Alpine to enjoy.

“I’m surprised you wanted to be seen with me. Especially with all the rumours, I found everyone believing them.”

“Honestly, half of them came from Anita and she is a whackjob. I’m surprised people listen to her.” You said taking a sip of your coffee.

He laughed, “You would be surprised, people look at me like I killed someone.”

“When I first moved in she told the entire neighbourhood that I got a divorce and needed massive space from my ex husband because I found him cheating with one of his juniors. People actually believed it which makes it worse. For like a year I was getting sympathetic looks for a divorce and relationship that didn’t even happen.” You cut a piece of your lemon bar with your fork.

He laughed, and felt so much more comfortable with you, like he has known you for so long. “My old place caught on fire, and I got trapped, lost m’arm. Girl left me because I had no arm, no place to stay, hit rock bottom, gained a few pounds, and Stark helped me by getting me this arm, even though I work for him and he paid for this place for me.” He said looking down, he felt comfortable enough for you to know what happened, but avoided your look, scared of judgement.

You reached out for his flesh hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, “You’re doing amazing James, don’t listen to what the neighbourhood chatties have to say. That’s why half of their men turn off their hearing aids when they talk.”

He smiled and you removed your hand, “Bucky.”

“Pardon?”

“Call me Bucky.”

“Alright, Bucky. So how did Bucky derive from James, because there is no correlation” you said, shoving the piece of lemon bar into your mouth.

“From my middle name, Buchanan, and I guess it stuck with me since.”

“Wait, you work for Stark Industries?” You said realization dawning on you.

“Yeah…” He said unsurely as if you would kick him off your backyard patio set and never talk to him again.

“I provide the latest and never seen before suits to Tony Stark!” You laughed.

“Insurrexon?” He asked.

“Yes sir, the one and only fashion director for Insurrexon.” You said.

He laughed, “So you guys are the reason he prances around his office saying his suit is worth more than everyone’s rent.”

“Sounds like a very Tony thing to do, but yes. I am the cause of that.”

You laughed and spent the remainder of your day talking with Bucky in your backyard while Alpine takes occasional nips at the yogurt left for him.

➽───────────────❥

Since that day, you and Bucky practically became best friends. With your schedule practically all over the place you two were constantly texting to help compensate for the fact you probably saw him for a total of 10 minutes or less a day.

He noticed some days you were coming home super late and noticed the lights in your washroom and bedroom are the only lights that were on when you came home and after that he assumed you fell asleep. He felt bad knowing you didn’t eat and were constantly on the go and eating probably the most unhealthy things possible just to stay alive. So he would drop you off extra portions of whatever he made.

Or that's what he likes to tell himself. One day on his break he saw the cutest reusable container, it was glass and had little black dresses on it with a hot pink lid, and knew it matched you perfectly. That night he had an extra portion of stir fry and rice leftover in your mailbox with a note saying, ‘make sure you eat something doll’, knowing you would check it before going inside and you would hopefully eat it.

The next day after the longest shift he possibly could have had, he checked his mailbox and saw the container was back in his mailbox, he frowned thinking that you didn’t eat it. He saw a yellow post-it note attached to the top ‘thanks for looking out for me, btw the stir fry was delicious’ and he smiled, picking up the container he noticed it was quite weighty. He opened it and saw a slice of red velvet cake, keeping the grin on his face, he closed the container, gathered his mail and went inside.

And that started the entire back and forth exchange of goods.

He would cook dinner for you to enjoy at night when you come home and leave it for you, the next day he got his container back with a form of a baked good.

Everyday on his way home, he was thinking of things to make you to impress you, there were lasagnas, soups with garlic bread, steaks with mashed potatoes, and he always went above and beyond to make it with love for you.

You on the other hand found it so sweet and kept giving him cute little desserts you would bake such as cupcakes, cheesecakes, and cookies, and when you couldn’t bake anything, you would make sure to pick something up on your way home from work.

This clockwork happened almost all the time.

➽───────────────❥

Bucky was in the break room at work with Sam and Steve, and Bucky couldn’t help but gush about how cute he found you.

“Aw Baby Bucky has a crushy wushy on his cute neighbour,” Sam said, reaching for his cheeks to pinch them.

“Knock it off Wilson,” Bucky said, rolling his eyes.

“Buck, I haven’t seen you this happy since Dot,” Bucky winced at the mention of his ex.

“She seems to like you, and enjoys your company, make a move,” Steve said, nudging his ribs.

“She doesn’t look at me that way,” Bucky muttered.

“Buck, she literally ignores what everyone said and openly hangs out with you, I think she likes you.” Bucky felt a little string of hope when Steve said that, but couldn’t help but feel insecure.

He was 34 years old, slightly overweight and had a prosthetic and was IT director for Stark Industries. You on the other hand were slightly younger than him at 30 years old, but, god took his time creating you, you were beautiful inside and out, had a killer personality and worked as a fashion director for one of the biggest fashion chains in North America. You two were on two different levels and you were nowhere in his league.

“So Buck, when are you gonna cook me dinner?” Sam said, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Not in your lifetime.” Bucky retaliated, feeling a buzz in his pocket, he pulled out his phone and saw it was you and instantly smiled.

“His girlfriend messaged him, that's why he’s all smiley” Sam nudged him once again.

The three of them continued talking until Brock Rumlow, the resident dick and lead prosthetic designer walked in.

Brock pushed passed Bucky to get something from the cabinets. Brock had an attitude problem with everyone and it was still surprising that he worked at Stark Industries. “James Barnes has a girlfriend? Does she close her eyes when she fucks you? Because you are hideous.”

“Rumlow,” Steve warned.

And that’s when Bucky felt coffee trickle down his skin and the scent of coffee engulfed his nose. “Hope your girlfriend cleans you up, she might as well throw you out.” Rumlow said pushing past him.

“Buck-” Sam started before making a beeline to the mens washroom.

Bucky stood in the mirror and looked at himself, his hair was drenched with coffee, his cream coloured cardigan and white shirt were covered in brown coffee splotches, his pants and shoes got minimal damage. He dunked his head over the sink and tried washing out his hair.

As his head was over the sink, there were tears in his eyes. Of course his neighbour wouldn’t like him, he was weak. He looked in the mirror knowing he would have to sit in his coffee stained outfit for the rest of the day.

“Buck? Stark wants to see you whenever you come out.” Steve said from the other side of the door, giving him some space.

He managed to murmur out an “okay” knowing Steve’s quality hearing would have heard him. It took him a solid 30 minutes before he made his way to Stark’s office. “You wanted to see me?” Bucky said walking in.

“Ah yes, I heard about the coffee incident in the break room.” Tony said.

“Sorry about that.”

“Not your fault, it’s Rumlow’s. Also how do you deal with Sam? I heard him screeching from here about how he was gonna, and I quote ‘Brock Rumlow’s shit so hard he wouldn’t have seen it coming.’”

“A lot of alcohol and tuning him out.”

“Makes sense.” Tony reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet and handed him a card, “Take this, go buy something to wear. Can’t have my top IT director brewing in coffee like he’s a piece of tiramisu.”

“No Stark I can’t take this, you’ve done a lot already.”

“Nonsense. Take Sam and Steve with you, I can’t hear Sam screeching about fighting someone for the rest of the day, that’s gonna be one hell of an HR complaint I’m gonna have to deal with.”

“You got it.”

➽───────────────❥

And that is how Bucky, Sam and Steve spent two hours walking around Brooklyn attempting to find clothes for Bucky. Bucky couldn’t find anything that made him feel right, it was emphasizing his stomach which he didn’t want to show off.

This kept making Bucky smaller, and he didn’t want to be out anymore. Sam kept trying to hype him and Steve was reassuring that he looked fine. But after that altercation in the break room, they understood that he wasn’t in the best mood and just wanted to go back to the office and have this Friday be over.

➽───────────────❥

You were sitting in a tiny coffee shop called Dream Bean with Wanda and Natalia planning for the next collection that was supposed to drop for Valentine’s Day, the ‘Love Bomb’ collection.

“I’m thinking colours like pastels, reds, pinks, whites.” Wanda said.

“So take Valentine’s Day and throw it into a collection?” Natalia said.

“Pretty much.” You stated.

“Makes sense.” Natalia stated, taking a sip of her iced latte.

“Is this more date night and sexy lingerie?” Wanda asked, working out a sketch in her notebook.

“I mean a lot of people are single on Valentine’s Day, so why not make it a feel good collection.” You stated nonchalantly, sitting back into your chair and taking a sip of your iced coffee.

“Oh, I love having a creative genius,” Wanda exclaimed, brushing her pencil gently across the sketchbook.

“I mean it's a part of my job description,” you laughed, taking a sip out of your iced coffee and looked out the window. You noticed a familiar face. Bucky. Your heart skipped a beat, until you saw that he was drenched in coffee. Your heart hurt for him.

“Hey? Hello? Anyone home?” Natalia waved in front of your face.

“Oh sorry.”

“You okay?” Wanda asked.

“I just saw my neighbour-”

“Oh the cute one you’re so smitten by?” Nat wiggled her brows.

“The dinner one! Aw he’s so cute and treats her well.” Wanda said.

“He was covered in coffee and he seemed upset.” You started, wishing you could do something for him. That’s when it clicked with you, “Do we have any samples from the ‘No Guidance’ collection?”

“I think there are copies in my office.”

➽───────────────❥

Bucky got back to work and sat in his chair, and ran his hands over his face. He felt horrible and nothing could make this day better. Rumlow’s words managed to hit deeper than he wanted it too. Usually, Bucky was very dismissive about what Rumlow said, but now that you were a part of his life, it hit deeper.

The elevator dinged, signalling someone was coming up. Secretly he was hoping it was the grim reaper ready to come collect him. “Package for-” He read the package, “James Barnes?”

“That’s me.” He said not even looking up. When he did, he was greeted by a massive navy blue box with a yellow ribbon tied around it, and saw some white text but couldn’t make out what it said due to the distance. “Thank you.”

He noticed that the box said ‘Insurrexon’ and was confused. That was the company that you worked for. He untied it and was greeted by a white paper with black pen ink staining the paper on top of the red wrapping paper protecting whatever was in the box.

‘Was in a meeting when I saw you drenched in coffee and wanted to help you out. Hope you like it. Also, can’t have my chef soaking wet, it could get him sick’ and it was signed off with your name.

His heart burst with awe at the fact she went out of her way to get him clothes so he wasn’t wet. Part of him was embarrassed that she saw him in that state, but the joy overtook that feeling. He took the clothes to the washroom and was going to change.

He worried that he wouldn’t fit in it, but as he slid the items on, it fit. Maybe you did have a good knowledge at measurements and knew what would fit.

He looked himself in the mirror and grinned at the fact she picked an all black outfit with a light washed denim jacket and some black combat boots, he was upset at the fact that she knew how big he was, but was overtaken by happiness as his neighbour, someone he took such an interest in, picked this out, out of the goodness of her own heart.

Once he walked out of the washroom he was whistled at by Sam, “Looking good girl.”

“I thought you didn’t like anything.” Steve stated.

“His lovely girl at Insurrexon sent him stuff,” Sam said, holding up the note with his hands.

“Hey!” Bucky grabbed it. “None of your business.”

“Alright ‘chef’.” Sam mocked.

Bucky reached out to slap Sam’s head. “Hey, hey, hey, no workplace violence!” Steve said, breaking it up.

➽───────────────❥

It was the end of the day and Bucky had to drop reports back off to Tony. He walked in and gave him all the files that Tony needed. “Is that Insurrexon?”

“Yeah,” he responded.

“Look at you go, getting into the big leagues, huh?” Tony punched his shoulder, “Wait, was it on my credit card?” Tony nearly cried out.

“No-”

“Wait, this collection didn’t even come out yet. How did you get this and how much did you spend?” Tony cried out.

“One of my friends work for Insurrexon and sent it to me for free.”

“Was it a lady friend?” Tony wiggled his eyebrows. Bucky blushed, “IT WAS! But honestly Tinman, you had a long day. Go home, get some rest, spend some time with your girl. I’ll see you Monday.” Tony said shooing Bucky out of his office.

➽───────────────❥

Upon reaching home, Bucky realized how expensive the brand truly was, and the amount of hype behind it. He also realized that Tony wasn’t lying and this was a collection that didn’t even come out yet, yet you still gave him a copy of it. He paced around his living room, even though his paycheque said he made quite the amount of money, the worth of this collection laughed at that amount. He couldn’t possibly pay it back. He was running through scenarios on how to bring it up and pay her back. He finally looked back at the clothing that he folded and put into a bag to return, and saw Alpine looking up at him, “What should I do, bud?” Alpine just meowed back at him before leaving and returning to wherever he was.

It was close to eight pm when he noticed that you came back home. Your car was in your driveway, and your living room light was on. He had to pump himself up before walking over to your door, he knocked on it three times before you opened it.

You looked even more beautiful, and he didn’t even know it was possible. There you were, makeup free, hair dampened signalling you showered, a pair of black shorts, and an oversized grey NASA shirt. He noticed you were on the phone and mouthed, “I’ll come back later.” He turned around and was about to walk off.

That’s when you grabbed his flesh wrist and pulled him inside. Closing the door behind him, he kicked off his shoes and admired your living room. He was unsure if he should sit, he looked at you as you were talking to whoever it was. You looked back at him, and signalled for him to sit down. He cautiously sat on your couch. Pen in your hand, you wrote on the post-it note.

“That’s just gonna delay ‘FIVE’ and we’re going to have to push back ‘Love Bomb’ which will have to be scrapped until next year,” you said running your hand through your hair.

Whoever was on the other line said something, you sighed, “It’s a Friday night, I can’t worry about this. Send out an email scheduling an interview on Tuesday for all the directors of different divisions.”

He admired you, even in comfortable clothes, you were a business woman strategizing ways to not prevent any delays. “Yeah, so me, Nat, Wanda, Okoye, Nebula, Val, Carole and Erik.” You wrote it down on your little post-it note, “Alright, thanks Gamora. Have a good weekend.” You said before hanging up.

You turned around being greeted by Bucky sitting there, “Hi,” he said letting out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding.

“Hi there. Sorry about that, work has my ass on a platter right now,” you said, chuckling, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“It’s okay,” he looked down and remembered why he came, “You didn’t have to do what you did.”

“And what was it I did?” You asked ridding your dining room table of the computer and a few sheets of paper that were littered across the table.

“Give me clothes.” He responded watching your movements.

“Bucky, it’s not a problem. You looked upset and I wanted to help you,” and after those words left your mouth, his heart nearly exploded into tiny pieces.

“I can’t possibly pay you back for this. Even Tony said it was too expensive.” Bucky said rambling.

“Bucky, do not worry about it. You don’t have to pay me back,” you said gently.

“Are you sure?” He asked.

“If you want to do something, hang out with me,” you said.

“Pardon?”

“We could order dinner? Dessert? Mario Kart? I am open to criticism.” You said jokingly.

“I’d like that,” Bucky said grinning from ear to ear.

“Alright soldier, what are you craving?”

“Pizza?” He said.

“Alright.”

➽───────────────❥

Of course it was a Friday night and your favourite pizza joint had an hour wait time before they could make your order, and don’t forget the 30 minute delivery window. And honestly, you both didn’t mind and enjoyed each other’s company. Yet here you were sitting on your couch playing Mario Kart together. “I fell off again,” he grumbled at rainbow road.

“Hah- oh no,” you said, getting blue-shelled.

“I just fell off, how can I possibly fall off again?” He exclaimed.

“No no no, don’t red shell me.” You said, rushing to the finish line. The moment you crossed it, ‘FINISH’ flashed across the screen.

Bucky got up at the sound of the knock on the door, “Pizza’s here.”

“Oh, use my card to pay!” You said going to get your wallet from your bag.

“No Doll, I owe you,” he went to the door.

You stood hovered over your bag due to your cheeks burning from him calling you ‘Doll’. You went to the kitchen and grabbed two plates, and two cups getting ready to set the table. Bucky joined you in the dining room with the extra large pepperoni pizza, wings and soda.

For some reason, to the both of you, this felt right. Like this is something that you two should be constantly doing. You two were laughing at childhood stories, work stories and other funny things that have happened to you two. He helped you clean up the table and wrap up the extras.

You took out two pieces of plum cobbler and warmed it up, “Ice cream?” you asked.

“Do you have?” Bucky asked.

“What kind of girl would I be if I didn’t have any?” You joked.

“You have a point,” he laughed.

You two were back at the dining room table. Bucky let out a heavenly groan as he took a bite of the plum cobbler, “I love plum so much, and this tastes amazing.”

“Plum is that fruit that you can always enjoy,” you said, taking a bite of your own.

“I’ve been meaning to ask, where do you get these desserts? They’re amazing,” he said, taking another bite.

You sheepishly said, “I bake the majority of them.”

“They’re amazing, doll. Maybe you should get out of the fashion industry and get into baking.” He joked.

“I don’t know about that part,” you chuckled, “Wanda and Nat might have my head on a stick if I leave.”

“You guys are that close?” Bucky asked.

“Practically attached by the hip. We met in freshman year of college because of this stupid textile course. Here we are ten years later, in the same company. What about you? Any close friends that are work friends but would also commit manslaughter if you left the company?”

He laughed at the comment, “I have Steve, him and I have been friends since childhood and he kept getting beat up in alleys and I had to save him. Then there’s Sam, the drama queen. Him and I met through Steve.”

You nodded your head, signalling you understood. “I don’t want to intrude, but what happened today? Why was there coffee all over you?”

He shifted in his seat, “Oh, uh.”

“You don’t have to answer. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m feeling much better now, sugar,” he said, grabbing your hand and giving a gentle squeeze with his flesh hand.

“That’s all that matters,” You said squeezing back

The two of you continued eating your dessert in harmony, occasionally making jokes.

➽───────────────❥

Bucky didn’t want to go, but it was nearly 1:30 am and he should probably let you sleep. He was strategically trying to leave the clothes on your couch without you noticing, which obviously failed.

You leaned against your door with one bag containing the clothes you gave him and the other containing leftovers and a good portion of the plum cobbler he seemed to enjoy. “Goodnight,” he said, prior to trying to walk off your porch.

“Wait, Bucky?” You asked.

He turned around, “Yes sugar?”

You hugged him, at first he couldn’t believe it, but knew this possibly wouldn’t happen again and hugged back. “Thank you for tonight.”

“Anytime doll,” he was so ecstatic, he didn’t notice that you slipped the two bags into his hands.

“See you around?” You asked, sheepishly.

“Of course.”

You let out a smile, “Night Bucky,” before the door closed.

He smiled, before realizing she slipped him food and the clothes. He shook his head and trekked his way home.

➽───────────────❥

Over the next 2 weeks, you and Bucky got so much more closer. He came to Insurrexon when she was in and could take breaks. Other than that you tried to meet up at random diners, restaurants, bakeries, wherever was convenient to the both of you.

➽───────────────❥

It was a Friday afternoon and Bucky was irritated, Brock was making sly comments about him knowing that Bucky heard it. And on several occasions, Steve had to hold back Sam from swinging and Sam stating that, “Rumlow isn’t ready for this smoke.”

Bucky sat at his desk looking over the file Tony gave him this morning and making notes in the margin for him and Bruce to look over once Monday hit. He felt someone’s presence next to him, “Brock I don’t wanna deal with this right now,” he mumbled out, not even looking up.

“Brock? From Pokémon? I always thought I was more of a Rosa from Black and White two,” you joked.

Once he heard the familiar voice, his head snapped up and grinned, leaning back into his chair, “Thought you were more of a May from Sapphire.”

You laughed, “Is that my favourite fashion director from Insurrexon?” Tony called out.

“Of course it is,” you turned to Tony, smiled and pushed back your hair.

“Are you bringing me some new designs? Or are you terrorizing my IT director?” He said, wiggling his eyebrows.

“I prefer the second one.”

Bucky enjoyed the banter between you and Tony, “Then you are banished from my company.”

“Before you banish me, can you at least let me steal your IT director for an hour for coffee? I will bring him back in perfect condition.” You pleaded.

Tony pretended to think, “Fine, I’ll give you an hour and fifteen, but I want him back in mint condition.”

You said, “Scouts honour.”

Bucky got up and stretched his knees, “If anything comes up, let Sam deal with it until I get back.”

“I would rather not, I’ll pass it off to Banner and hopefully he doesn’t rage out.” Tony joked.

“See you at the Rocket fashion show in a few weeks?” You asked Tony.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world. I’ll bring Tinman with me,” he joked.

“Doll, meet me at the elevator? I want to pass my file to Banner before I leave.” Bucky asked.

“Of course. Bye Tony,” you said before walking back to the elevator you just rode up.

Bucky grabbed the file off the desk, “So this is the girl who has my Bucky Barnes smitten?” Tony said, examining his movement.

He blushed and stuttered, “N-no, where did you get that from?”

“Buck, you literally called her doll, and the way you look at her says otherwise,” Tony said, “Don’t let her slip out of her fingers, she is a wonderful person and I can tell that she genuinely likes you back,” he reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet and handed him a card, “It’s on me, now go get your girl.”

“Thanks Tony,” Bucky murmured out.

“Don’t worry Buck, now I will pass this on to the big guy,” Tony spoke, taking the file out of his hand.

Bucky met you at the elevator, you were leaning against the wall on your phone waiting for him. He finally took in how gorgeous you looked today. A quarter sleeve baby blue button up that was fashionably tucked into the high waisted dark blue skinny jeans, some black heels and rose gold jewelry to accent it all. “You ready Doll?”

“Been ready, let’s get some coffee. You look like you need it.” You said.

He smiled and pressed the button for down, you two were laughing and Bucky’s face dropped when the elevator doors opened. Rumlow. He got in, and you could feel the tension. You grabbed his hand and reassuringly squeezed it and kept your fingers interlocked.

Earlier when you were walking in the building, you ran into Steve and Sam by accident who were coming in from their ‘afternoon stroll’ and Sam went off and told you everything about Rumlow. “You know you don’t deserve someone like Chubs over there, why don’t you get with me instead, I’ll show you a good time.” Rumlow said.

“And you don’t deserve a job here, I can’t wait to go to Tony and let him know there’s a harassment claim against one of his employees. He wouldn’t like to hear that his favourite company can’t be providing him fashion anymore because of a harassment claim, would he now?” You gritted.

“Bitch,” Rumlow muttered before getting off.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Bucky said, trying to let go of your hand.

You kept a grip on his hand, “I don’t have to, but I do. You don’t deserve any of that.” “So where do we wanna go?” Bucky said.

“Up to you,” you smiled at him.

“Well, we are going somewhere expensive because Tony gave me his card,” he chuckled.

You laughed, “Can’t wait.”

➽───────────────❥

You stuck out your tongue, turned back around and walked in the direction of your home.

You and Bucky enjoyed your time at the cafe. He ordered a large black coffee and a plum tart, you ordered a large iced coffee and a rainbow bit cake. His hour was up and you were walking him back to Stark Industries. Your left hand in his right hand, everything about this seems normal.

You two laughed in harmony. You turned towards him, “I’m done for the rest of the day. Movie tonight?” You asked.

“Of course.”

Bucky was about to walk off, before you called out, “Hey Bucky?”

He turned back, “Yeah doll?”

You reached out and grabbed his hand, and pulled him closer to you. You planted a soft kiss on his lips. His eyes widened, upon realization, he kissed you back.

You pulled away, “I promised Tony his IT director back, I’ll be waiting for you to come back.”

He kissed your knuckles, “I can’t wait.”

You were walking away, but turned back. “Also, don’t kill Sam. He told me everything.”

He blushed then realization hit him as to what you just said and let out a loud groan, “You two are the sneakiest.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #captain america #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky #neighbour!bucky #neighbor!bucky #chubby!bucky #chubby!bucky barnes #bucky barnes au #james barnes #james barnes x reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel x reader #marvel fanfic #marvel au #winter soldier #bucky barnes x yn #bucky barnes x y/n

2K notes · View notes

astranva · 4 years ago

Text

Heather.

Word Count: 2k

Category: Angst

Warning: Language? idk

Request: pls write an angst based on Heather by Conan gray i love ur writings sm

Summary: In which Harry is the Heather of his own story.

this won’t have a second part, let’s keep it sad 💀

thanks for requesting, anon! hope you like it and thank you sm🤍

// masterlist //

You were there for as long as Harry could remember, and that was so many years.

He was convinced that many scriptwriters and directors heard of your friendship’s story and that was how most rom-coms were made.

But the rom-coms had something that Harry was yet to have – the happy ending he kept wishing for.

It wasn’t your fault, really. Sure, you were a little oblivious but it was also a little unfair saying that was the only reason why Harry hadn’t gotten his happy ending because he knew that at the end of the day, it was him not making a move and admitting his feelings for you throughout all these years.

Harry remembered how for his 16th birthday, you had saved up to get him and yourself tickets to see Coldplay live.

He remembered how you cried as you hugged him after his X Factor audition as you all stood backstage.

He remembered how excited he was when he first introduced you to the rest of the boys when they were put in a band. Hell, you slept over with them at Robin’s for a couple of days.

He remembered how you flew out for the weekend when Zayn had left the band, knowing that Harry needed your presence.

He remembered how you were the first person he went to when he decided to make a debut solo record.

He remembered waking up to your singing in Jamaica, munching on honey toast as your face would light up the moment he came to view – “Good morning, H! I squeezed some fresh oranges for you.”

He also remembered how his face would heat up when he was just a kid whenever his family would mention that you and him were bound to end up together.

He remembered how his first heartbreak wasn’t from a relationship of his own, but it was when you got into one at 16. He hated it.

He remembered helping you with your dates, reacting to how you thought a new crush was, holding you as you cried.

Harry remembered how despite being in love with you since he was a teenager, he didn’t take a step towards having you more than a best friend.

And God, his journals were proof of that love; the love songs, all those ones about unrequited love, the short poems he wrote in the dead of the night.

He had cringed when he told you that he was seeing someone, only to have you become excited and genuinely happy for him.

If you could do it, why couldn’t he?

He was staying over at yours, a normal occurrence for when he was home. He could’ve as well just sold his house at that point.

“Have anything I can wear? This isn’t too comfortable.” He had asked you as the both of you lounged, watching a stand-up comedy.

“Yeah, just choose whatever you want.” You nonchalantly said, not caring if he went through your clothes – not like this was anything but normal for the both of you.

“Too lazy to move.” He mumbled, looking up at you from where he was; his head resting on your lap as you played with his hair.

The smile that came to your face was one Harry mirrored without knowing, staring at you as you continued to watch the show. “I’m not moving.” You stated.

He groaned, standing up, “Will you still play with my hair when I come back?”

At that, your eyes moved to him, “Yes, you baby.”

That was all the assurance he needed before he walked to your room and opened your wardrobe, going through your clothes without messing anything up; you liked your clothes neatly folded at all times.

Reaching one lilac sweater, Harry took it out before holding it over his upper body, finding that it would probably perfectly fit.

Taking off his own top and putting on yours, Harry’s breath instantly hitched in his throat, stomach tied up in knots.

It smelled like you.

It smelled like fresh vanilla detergent and the coconut scent he adored so much.

Running his hand slowly across his body, Harry turned to look at the mirror, eyes falling on the item that screamed your name louder than the beaded necklace you had made him months ago that decorated his neck – “Golden, because that’s what I think you are” you had said.

He gulped, fingertips grazing the material.

“Harry! You’re missing all the good bits!”

“Coming!” He shouted back, hoping you didn’t catch the crack in his voice.

After one final look, Harry had walked back to you, placing his head on your lap.

“Good choice.” You had commented softly.

“Yeah?” Harry almost whispered, “Feels comfortable. What material is that?”

“Just polyester,” you shrugged, “Hate how it looks better on you though.” You had joked, giving him a gentle tug to his hair.

Harry had giggled, closing his eyes as you scratched his scalp softly, “Thanks.”

After that day, it was like Harry claimed the sweater. He’d beeline to it the moment he stepped a foot in your house, frowning at you on some days when you told him that it was getting washed.

Days turned to weeks, and before Harry could do as much as blink, you were back from your work with a smile brighter than usual.

He was sitting on your couch that day, in the lilac sweater, a smile drawn to his face as soon as his saw yours, pausing the music that was playing from his laptop. “You look happy.”

And you were, because you had given his cheek a soundly smooch of greeting, unaware of Harry’s cheeks reddening.

You hummed with a nod, “I have a date tonight with, quite possibly, the cutest person I have ever met.”

He wasn’t expecting that.

Harry was not expecting that.

His smile faltered, only staring at you.

“They’re just,” you sighed, staring at the ceiling with a hand to your heart, “A dream, you know? Hey, wait! You know them!”

“I do?”

“Yeah,” you nodded eagerly, “Chelsea introduced them when we went to that pub 2 weeks ago, remember? Charlie?”

“Oh.”

And he did. He remembered how pretty Charlie was, how they seemed to keep conversations going and made sure everyone was listened to, how Charlie’s style stood out in the pub, how their jokes made everyone laugh – including him. He remembered how Charlie’s eyes lingered on you when you talked, how the both of you seemed dived into a conversation of common interests. He hated it.

Charlie really was a dream. Yeah, he hated that, too.

Harry had helped you decide on an outfit, his chest feeling as if it clenched around his heart to a point where his cage would combust.

He helped you with your hair, spraying the back of it for you because you had always complained about not reaching that part well.

Fuck, he even painted your nails that night – they were in lilac.

And he was there when Charlie picked you up, a genuine smile on their face that looked nothing like the petty one he wore.

“Do you need us to bring you anything, mate? We’re having Italian.” Charlie had offered.

Why did Charlie have to be kind and polite? What happened to the assholes they portrayed in rom-coms?

“No, thanks, Y/N made me lasagna earlier.” Harry had chuckled, watching you smile at the interaction.

“Go to sleep by 9, Mr.” You had joked as you left, Charlie’s hand on your back.

“You know it.” Harry had mumbled with a weak smile, giving you a nod.

By 7, Harry was almost sure he yanked all his hair out, despite the mirrors assuring him that he didn’t.

By 8, he tried to eat, but the nauseous feeling that ran through his body at the thought of you with someone else made him put the casserole back in the fridge.

By 9, Harry had called Mitch to break the news of your newest date, only to hang up so soon when Mitch was beginning to tell him how he still might have a chance.

By 10, he wrote a song. One full song.

By 11, he had the tune for it.

By 12, Harry watched you kiss someone who wasn’t him and he had no one to blame.

“How was it?” He managed to utter, watching you stand against the door with the widest smile.

“Perfect.”

That was the beginning of everything but what Harry wished upon a constellation for, because by the second month of you seeing Charlie, you had made it official.

Charlie was perfect in all aspects; hell, even Gemma liked them when she met them as the 4 of you had brunch one day.

But then Charlie was around your house more that Harry just wasn’t that comfortable to sleep over anymore.

He remembered how the three of you were watching a movie one night, Charlie having been wanting to get to know Harry more since he was “someone Y/N talks about and loves so much” – Charlie said that with no drop of pettiness, Harry wondered how they did it – when Harry just couldn’t take any more of you cuddling someone who wasn’t him and before you and Charlie could process it, Harry was out with an empty excuse – “I forgot my guitar at Mitch’s.”

His guitar was resting against the very couch he was sitting on.

But nothing prepared him for that one moment.

Charlie had invited him for the barbecue party they were hosting and if it weren’t for your puppy eyes, Harry would’ve been sulking in the comfort of his house and not in his car while he was on the way to oh-so-perfect Charlie’s.

He heard Lizzo playing the moment he got out of his car, and it was how he knew that it was your playlist playing.

He had brought cake with him, walking cautiously with the boxed dessert in his hands.

The door was opened, a few smiling people passing by him before he was met with yours, only as always, your face lit up once you saw him.

“You’re here!” You didn’t care that he was holding anything in his hands that restrained him from hugging you back because you threw your arms around him, leaving a kiss to his cheek, “Everyone’s been asking for you. Something about how it was weird seeing me without you.” You giggled.

“Partners in crime, eh?” He smiled at you, referring to the phrase you have been using with one another since school.

“You bet,” you wiggled your eyebrows, “Oh, shoot, sorry, didn’t notice you had this. Um, come, let’s put it in the kitchen.”

You were comfortable in Charlie’s house, Harry noticed. It was no surprise; he would’ve been more worried if you weren’t seen as you had been together for 6 months.

Placing the cake in the fridge, you and Harry then walked to where everyone was.

And that was when he saw it.

Charlie lied on a lounge chair, laughing and looking all attractive, in the very lilac, polyester sweater Harry had found comfort in.

He watched as you walked over, Charlie instantly putting a hand to your waist as they smiled up at you before you leaned down, pressing your lips against one another.

“Act natural, would you?” He heard Chelsea’s, a mutual friend, voice beside him.

“What?”

“If you can’t be happy for Y/N, try to act natural around them,” Chelsea sighed, her heart breaking for her friend as she looked at Harry who was yet to move his eyes from the couple, “Charlie’s great, you know?”

“Yeah,” he gave her a dry chuckle, “Yeah, I know.”

“Then why aren’t you happy that at least they’re not an asshole?”

“Just,” Harry looked at his friend, a defeated look on his face before the sound of you squealing gleefully grabbed his attention, watching as Charlie had their arms wrapped around you from behind, the both of you laughing as your friends all smiled in awe, “Just wish I were Charlie.”

#harry styles imagine #harry styles #harry styles angst #harry styles angst imagine #heather #harry styles angst one shot #harry styles one shot #bestfriend!harry

396 notes · View notes

trashyswitch · 4 years ago

Text

The New Life of a Dying Afton

Michael walks himself to Henry's house, gutted and disintegrating like a zombie. Henry tries to help him as best he can, and reprimands him for breaking their personal past promises.

This fanfic prompt came up after the following question ran through my head: How would Henry react to scooped Michael? This is my take on it! However, I will warn you: it's dark, gorey and quite sad at times. Though it ends on a bittersweet note, it won't change the general tone and gore within the beginning.

So despite that: here's the fanfic.

Henry was watching TV at home, trying to unwind from his day at work. It was getting tiring trying to work the long shifts these days. It was getting painful too. Some of the mechanical engineering he did in his 20’s were starting to get to him and his physical body now. His back often ached and his right hand would grow more and more painful the longer he worked any kind of machinery. Guess you could say he’s going through the Dirty 30’s of his life. Most of the time the pains and aches didn’t come till the 40’s or 50’s! But some people are just unlucky, I guess.

Henry looked at the time on his watch and sighed as he got up and started to make himself dinner. His wife was out hanging out with a few friends, leaving him to eat dinner alone. He threw some leftover lasagna into the microwave and set it to an estimated time. While he waited patiently for it to warm up, Henry grabbed the newspaper and read it for anything even slightly interesting.

He felt like a retired person: depressed, working a small part time job and living in a small, semi-old house. It worked for what he did, but he sometimes missed the good old days. The days William was a good person with only a quirky personality to prove his eventual criminal mind. It’s strange looking back now, remembering the little things he’d do that would later make sense after killing those children. He remembered the times Will would grow numb and distant, especially after something tragic happened. Example: When Chris died. Now, Henry knew that any death was capable of changing a person.

But William...almost snapped and remained that broken way up until he went missing. He almost lost it when he found out a second Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria was going to open. Why was he the only one who wanted to throw away the Fazbear Entertainment Business for good?! Was it even salvageable after the killings and the Bite of 87?! He really wanted the whole nightmare in his 20’s to be over. But the Fazbear Entertainment was not helping him to stop thinking about it. They just HAD to try and get profit off the animatronic business. He had sadly started a chain of circumstances that he can’t let go of for his life.

Even though he wasn’t the killer, Henry still felt partly responsible for the huge mess he made of things.

Henry’s thoughts were quickly pushed aside as he heard a knock on the door. Henry looked up and looked over at the microwave. It still had a few seconds left. So, Henry stopped the microwave and walked to the door.

He opened up the door. “Hello-”

Henry shouted in horror and just about died from a heart attack right there on the spot! ZOMBIE!

Henry fell his butt and scooted himself back as the zombie held his hands out. “Henry hold on!” it told him.

IT KNEW HIS NAME?! OH NO! “AAAAAH! SH- SHIT! STAY AWAY FROM ME!”

Henry tried to kick the door shut on the crippled, dead looking thing. But to his horror, the walking corpse grabbed his ankle! Henry SHRIEKED as loud as he could!

“HENRY! Henry, it’s me, Michael!” The corpse yelled to him. “Look!” The corpse pulled out his wallet and showed him his health card with a picture on it.

“YOU- YOU STOLE THAT!” Henry tried to tell himself out loud as he looked up at the face. “IT CAN’T BE! MICHAEL’S ALIVE AND FIT, AND-” Henry words started to fade as he immediately recognized the face of the poor boy he knew so well. “I-” He took the health card from him and held it up beside the face of the walking corpse.

Holy crap...it looked EXACTLY LIKE HIM! Except, it looked like Michael hadn’t taken a bath or brushed his hair in weeks! To make things worse, it looked like something under his shirt had been bleeding heavily and staining the shirt.

Henry dropped the health card in pure shock and covered his mouth. “What happened to you?!” He asked as he started to stand up.

Tears started falling down Michael’s darkening cheeks as he reached his hands out, visibly begging for a hug. Henry quickly acted, pulling him into a worried but loving hug. Michael wrapped his arms around him as well, and started crying into his shoulder. He was mentally exhausted from everything he had just been through. He was even partially holding himself up.

Henry rubbed his back and tried to ignore the slightly ghastly smell that was coming from him. He really looked like he was rotting from the outside in. He was secretly hoping the smell was just body oil drowning his skin, pores and scalp. Strangely enough though, Michael didn’t feel moist. He felt...dry. Like super dry. Like heavy amounts of Eczema was covering and destroying his skin bit by bit.

Henry finally pulled away and cupped his purple cheeks. “You...I hate to be that kind of person, but…” Henry brought his hands to his shoulders instead. “You look like shit!”

Michael guffawed somewhat quietly and cracked a yellow, lobsided smile. “I know…” He told him.

“How did this happen? And...do you need some cream?” Henry asked, slightly laughing despite the pain and confusion of seeing Michael so distressed and disfigured.

Michael looked at the back of his own hand, and nodded. “Yes please.” Michael replied, staring at the exposed skin where his nails used to be.

Henry grabbed some cream from the bathroom and handed it to him. Michael sat down on a chair in the living room, and removed the bottle cap. While that was happening, Henry got up and headed to the kitchen to get his presumably hot food from the microwave. He checked his food, and smiled when it felt nice and warm. Henry pulled his lasagna out of the microwave, and walked out to the living room again to check on his less-than-okay nephew.

Michael was putting strips of cream onto his arm and...patting the cream onto his skin instead of rubbing it. Henry widened his eyes and blinked in confusion. That is not how you put cream on. Literally no one puts cream on like that! “Uuuuuh...Doooo you want help? You act like you’ve never put cream onto your skin before.” Henry asked.

“I’m fine.” Michael replied.

HA! That’s a laugh and a half. He is most certainly NOT okay!

“If I rub the cream on like normal, I’ll remove all the skin that’s dying. So I have to be very gentle.” Michael admitted.

Henry blinked and frowned. “Then...is it even worth the fuss?” Henry asked.

“No. But it feels nice and cool.” Michael replied.

“Would...would you rather you had a bath?” Henry asked, placing his lasagna down.

“I’ve tried bathing. But...the skin and hair just falls off and clogs everything.” Michael admitted.

Henry just about gagged at that. Gosh...Whatever happened to him, must be such a pain. He looked down at his plate and...gave it a push away from him. He was quickly losing his appetite. “So what exactly happened to you? Did you get hit with radiation? Are you dying?” Henry asked. “It sounds like radiation poisoning to me. Did you hear about that Nuclear Reactor explosion that happened in Russia?” Henry added.

Michael shook his head.

“A nuclear reactor exploded, and they predict hundreds of thousands of people were exposed to radiation. Hair falling off, skin dying out, and skin color change are all part of it.” Henry explained.

Michael shook his head. “No. I wasn’t exposed to radium. But I did get hit with a metal scooping system.” Michael explained.

Henry tilted his head. “Scooper?”

Michael sighed. “A huge device that looks like an ice cream scooper, that destroys animatronics.” Michael explained.

Henry blinked and quickly looked at him. Did he just say animatronics?!

“Wait wait wait…” Henry pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed his eyes. “You didn’t get yourself a job at the old pizzeria, did you?” Henry asked.

Michael shook his head. “Circus Baby’s Pizza-”

“Oh my fucking- MICHAEL!” Henry yelled. “We talked about this! I don’t want you having anything to do with your crazy fucking father! I know it’s probably curiosity that led you to do this, but come on!” Henry reacted. “Did none of that curious cat story stick to you at all?!” Henry asked.

Michael groaned. “That was 6 years ago.” Michael reacted.

“Still! It still applies here. The cat wanted to know what was at the bottom of the well, and tried to swim to get down there. But: she died before she got to see the bottom. One small question about your father, and now look at you! Rotting right in front of me!” Henry reacted.

Michael just chuckled at that. “Hey look: I died after getting my answer.”

“MICHAEL! Death is NOT a joke.” Henry spat at him. “You of all people should know that by now.”

“It can be if it happens enough times.” Michael admitted.

Henry stood up, walked right up to Michael and slapped him across the face. Michael widened his eyes and held his hand up to his own face. “That’s for not listening to me and getting yourself scooped like an ice cream tub.” Henry shot at him.

Michael frowned. “Don’t use ice cream as an allegory. I’ve heard it plenty enough for a lifetime from Elizabeth.”

Michael’s angry face morphed into surprise. “You...you found Elizabeth?” Henry asked.

“Mm hmm...Baby’s eyes changed color to match Elizabeth’s eyes.” Michael explained. “And...she was scooped too.”

Henry frowned. “Did you find anyone else while you were there?” Henry asked.

“Besides a ballerina whose voice strangely reminds me of my mother...no.” Michael replied.

Henry sighed and sat himself down. “Come on: let’s...cover up the tub drain with a drain cover, and let’s get you a bath ready.” Henry decided.

Michael looked up at him and looked down again. Something was up with him. But...he wasn’t saying anything.

“Are you gonna tell me what’s wrong? Or am I gonna have to guess?” Henry asked.

Michael sighed again and started to lift up his shirt. Henry gasped and covered his mouth in panic as he looked at what was left of Michael’s middle. It was just a big, rotting hole of purple with only the lower ribs to identify specifically what was missing.

“Does…” Henry almost felt the need to put his hand in between the hole. “Does it hurt?” He asked, holding his hand out.

Michael gently took Henry’s hand and led it into the hole. The moment his hand went an inch deep without touching anything, Henry pulled his hand away and shook his head in disgust and fear. “It’s okay. Look:” Michael stuck his own hand into the hole, deeper and deeper. Until, he flinched slightly from the strange feeling of his hand touching his spine and nerves. Henry yelped and covered his mouth with his fist with anxiety filling him. He was so nervous he was gonna drop dead at any moment.

Michael removed his hand and gave Henry a smile to show ‘everything’s weird, but fine’. Though the deep red blood on the boy’s hand didn’t help much.

Henry almost shivered. “You sir...are really testing my stomach.” Henry mentioned.

Michael giggled and brought his bloody hand closer to Henry’s face! Henry shrieked and fell right off the couch! Michael bursted out laughing at the reaction, and got up to clean his hand.

“Ew ew ew ew gross- That’s the most inappropriate thing you could’ve done!” Henry reacted.

Michael just leaned forward against the sink and laughed at him. Henry’s reaction was perfect!

“Oh! OH! You wanna laugh now? Alright, you asked for it!” Henry stood right up, walked up to Michael and started tickling his ribs.

Michael yelped. “AAAHAHA! HENRY, WAHAHAIT!”

“WOW! Dead, purple, but still ticklish as ever!” Henry reacted. “Guess your death hasn’t killed off your nerves yet.” Henry brought Michael against the counter, turned him around to lean against his back, and continued attacking his ribs.

“STAHAHAHAP IHIHIHIT! WHYHYHYHY?!” Michael asked, through his strong laughter.

“Why?! Because not only did you manage to break the many rules we agreed on, but you managed to nearly get yourself killed!” Henry reacted.

Michael grabbed Henry’s hands and held them away as he tried to breathe. “Hohohold ohohon…”

“Okay, okay. Take your time.” Henry allowed him.

Michael looked up at him. “Ihihi...Why though? Why did I live after...getting scooped?” Michael asked. He didn’t wanna tell Henry about Ennard, knowing he’ll flip even more if he mentioned a sentient animatronic that wanted to disguise himself.

Henry’s looked down a little and bit his lip. “Well…” He took a moment to think of how he was gonna tell him. “The only way I can describe it...is by giving it a name. I call it ‘The Afton curse’.” Henry explained with an awkward chuckle.

Michael frowned. “...Ouch. I know my family has a bad wrap, but I’m still an Afton too.” He admitted.

“I know, I know. It affects more than just the Afton family as well. Example: my little Charlie.” Henry admitted.

Michael looked down.

“Basically: The Afton family and those who’ve known William, have the unfortunate habit of possessing animatronics.” Henry explained. “But you seem to have gone down a new option: zombifying.” Henry explained.

Michael lifted an eyebrow. “You sound like an alien conspiracy theorist.” He told him.

“I know, I know. But it’s the only way I can explain the ‘possessing animatronics’ thing.” Henry mentioned. “Also, it doesn’t exactly help that the children William killed also rotted in the animatronics.” Henry added.

Michael made a disgusted face. “Great...I’m rotting without an animatronic to hold me together. And I’m stuck with this family curse because I’m genetically linked to a killer.” Michael groaned. “I have never wanted to slap my father across the face more than I do now.” Michael admitted.

Henry laughed a little. “Don’t we all?”

Michael smiled at that. “Can we...stop talking about the ‘Afton curse’? And maybe go back to the ‘You died! Time to tickle you!’ thing?” Michael asked.

Henry laughed and was taken back. “Really?!”

If Michael could have blushed, he probably would’ve at that very moment. “I mean...yeah! I kinda feel like laughing-” Michael’s explanation was quickly interrupted by a pair of hands tickling his ribs again. “HeheheHEHAHAHAHAHA! OHBOY- OKAHAHAYHYHYHY!”

“I don’t think I fully remember just how ticklish you are. I doubt you even remember either! It’s probably been a while since you were last tickled.” Henry admitted.

“YOHOHOHOU THIHIHIHINK?” Michael reacted.

“Yes! Now hush. I wanna hear some squeals and snorts from you.” Henry ordered jokingly as he lifted one of his arms up.

“HEHEHEHEhehehe...Henry, don’t even think about it!” Michael ordered. Henry only smirked at this and wiggled his fingers really close to his armpit. Michael yelped and developed a wobbly smile with nervous giggles spilling out.

Henry couldn’t stop his evil facade from breaking. He soon dropped his wiggling hand and started laughing. “Ihihi’m nohot even tickling you!” He reacted.

Michael tittered into the side of his closed fist. “Cahahause ihihit’s the suspehehense!” He explained.

“The suspense? For something you told me you wanted?” Henry mentioned. He started wiggling his fingers again and finally touched down on the vulnerable armpit. Michael shrieked like a bat, and completely lost himself in his laughter. “Wow!” Henry reacted. “I don’t mean to sound insulting, but you sound a little like the Joker.” Henry admitted.

“HEHEHEHEY! IHIHIHIHI’M OHOHOFEHEHEHE-”

“Offended? Did I offend the son of a famous killer? Are you gonna vow vengeance on me and get him to kill those who bully you?” Henry teased.

“WHAHAHAHA?! HAHAHAHAHA NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!” Michael shook his head and kicked his feet wildly.

“Oh, you’re not?! Thank goodness! I would’ve been a goner!” Henry teased.

Michael kicking started to reach Henry’s belly and waist, leading Henry to grab his feet. “Hey now! Who told you you could kick me?” Henry asked.

Michael’s laughter fell into giggles once again, mixed with panting. “Sohohohohorryhyhyhyhy.” Michael told him.

“I’ll forgive you, but you gotta promise me-” Henry pulled off his socks, “you’ll never try and kick me again.” he started skittering his fingers onto his foot.

Michael threw his head back and snorted before falling into rapid giggles. “Hehehehehehehenryhyhyhyhyhy! Nahahahahahahaha!”

“Wow! You’re still able to talk after all this? Your lungs must’ve grown extra strong when you died!” Henry teased, giving Michael’s chest a couple pats.

Michael’s giggles paused, and were quickly replaced with coughs. Henry quickly let his foot go, walked up to Michael and patted his back to help him cough it out.

“Ohohow...Ow. I think my lungs are broken.” Michael admitted.

“Was tickling you a little too much?” Henry asked.

Michael shook his head. “No. I needed that. Thank you.”

Henry smiled and fluffed his hair. “You’re welcome.”

Michael’s eyes went cross-eyed when he felt a bunch of his dead hair falling down his face. It felt weird. Henry widened his eyes and looked down at his own hand:

It was completely covered in Michael’s hair.

Henry looked down at his hand, back up at Michael, back at his hand and back up at Michael again. Not sure how to react, Henry rubbed the hair from his hand onto Michael’s chest. Michael laughed at this and just took it. Guess all the zombie jokes can be made. Starting after his drain-clogging bubble bath.

#post sister location #scooped michael #henry emily becomes michael's guardian #ticklefic #ler!henry #lee!michael #blood and gore #graphic depictions of zombifying #angst and hurt/comfort #angst and fluff

68 notes · View notes

shashawip · 3 years ago

Text

Mia Asking Jason About His Feelings For Roy While Cooking

Summary:

Mia asking Jason about his feelings for Roy while cooking, and Jason didn’t deny it.

Notes:

English isn’t my native spoken language so there can be grammatical errors.

This snippet is from an originally planned fiction revolving around Roy, Jason and Mia with Mia being the witness of Royjay’s developing relationship. I may never find a chance to finish their story so I will just post moments that I enjoyed writing while picturing their world. Hope you enjoy.

Published on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33110860

——

It wasn’t Mia's turn to cook today, but not like she minded it and all. She’s in a good mood lately given how well the day job has turned out, and the camaraderie she’s developed with the colleagues at work.

To be frank, the two other housemates’ cooking skills just weren’t satisfying. Jason was alright, if he really paid attention and invested his time to cook. Same cannot be said for Roy, however, who was an entirely different story. The only edibles on his menu might just be that ham and cheese sandwich he seemed to be barely able to assemble.

Mia hummed in joy while she poured her lasagna sauce into a rectangular Le Creuset, which had already been layered with some pre-made lasagna sheets. She raised her eyes to look at Roy who’s sitting across the kitchen island, while still preserving her attention down at the stoneware.

“I never knew you’d be so interested in a wooden door before.” Mia chuckled.

Roy seemed to be dragged out of his lost thoughts and back to the world by her voice, quickly moving away his glaze, looking a little embarrassed. He’d been fixed to the stool he’s sitting on and stared at Jason’s bedroom door with his head rested in his elbow in the same position for quite a while, even the oven had been pre-heated.

Mia continued to work on layering sheets and pouring the mixture from the saucepan, the warm steam spreading the fresh smell of tomato, garlic, slightly caramelized pork and veal bolognese along with other goodness that’s been well combined into the open air kitchen. She kept her head down while going on, “Figured what’s getting into your head. Now that James and I are dating, Jason seems like about to start one himself, you’d be thinking of finding someone to hang out with too?”

Roy admitted almost immediately, let go of an unnoticeable sigh for Mia seemed to not be aware what’s really going on in his mind. “Didn’t you always mention that girl… the one on that team you and Dick were on back then, was it Danielle?” “Donna.” “Donna. Anyway. I don’t know, maybe you can try contacting her again?” Roy looked a little confused by her suggestion. “Donna… she’s a partner and a good friend that’s all. Also I haven’t caught up with the Titans for quite some time.” “But there is always a chance out there somewhere, right?”

By now Roy seemed to have lost interest in this topic, and just shook his head towards the room that Jason was in, and steered the conversation back to what’s happening in there. “You can’t know… that girl, she came here and was after Jason…” Mia knew what he’s going on and about, “If you ask me, well, from a female perspective, what she’s after from Jason could not have been any more obvious.”

Just a little less than half an hour ago, a silver white long haired girl walked in from the front door of their apartment without giving any heads up, she promptly glanced over the room, including Roy who was laying on his back in the couch at the time, and Mia who’s busy preparing their dinner behind the counter. She briefly studied the situation, confirmed with the cook which bedroom was Jason’s, then dashed and disappeared into that room with a not-so-gentle bang as she closed the door, leaving Roy and Mia completely dazzled and curious.

Roy exchanged looks with Mia as he got up. He thought that girl looked familiar before he remembered that he, or rather, him and Jason had met her on the plane from Gotham back to Star City. She was sitting across the aisle, had started to strike a conversation with Jason around halfway of the flight. Roy hadn’t paid them too much attention as he curled up comfortably in his window seat and napped almost the entire time. When their plane had arrived and the seatbelt signs turned green, and Jason stood up to reach their backpack from the overhead bin, Roy saw the girl had slipped a thin piece of paper into the back-pocket of his jeans.

Roy had never seen her again after they got back home, until just now. He bet that Jason had contacted her without him and Mia knowing, and for Christ’s sake, he’d exposed their secret headquarters - an apartment on Winnick St that the three of them would scramble each month to come up with the rent for - to a stranger that hadn’t gone through their little gang’s trust test.

Mia saw him shuffled around yet eyes glued to that door, so she ordered him to buy some more basil leaves from the store that apparently her topping sauce is now short of. Roy groaned before leaving the apartment, still managed to strike a last look at that door that the girl has vanished into.

Some time later, the girl has finally decided to stomp out of that room again, she glimpsed over Mia, without saying a word then bounced across the communal space before walking right out, seemingly assuming oneself to be one of, otherwise, the owner of the house.

When Jason emerged just a little later too, Mia then stared at the ceiling and started talking at loud to herself, “Gotta be impressed with all the soundproof works of these walls, you can’t even hear a thing that you’d expected from the other side.”

Jason said that he and Roslyn merely spoke while in there and nothing more had happened. He looked around and asked where Roy is. Mia told him that she requested him to go to the shop and get her some more basils. Jason pondered on that. Mia figured out he’s gauging whether he should go out too, “I thought he might want some air for himself seeing that both his housemates are romantically involved in a relationship.” Jason started to look confused.

Mia thought to herself, Mia Deardon, don’t you screw this one up. She made an effort to calm her tone of voice before speaking up again. “That girl and you, aren’t you a thing or about to be?” She probed in a slightly joking way.

“A thing?” Jason now looked even more puzzled, as if this image of presumed future has never come across his mind before, “I don’t recall anything remotely like that ever discussed in our conversation.”

Mia stopped what she’s doing and pointed a silicon spatula at him, which was still covered with warm tomato chunks, “Jason, when you let a girl walk into your room, you should be prepared to provide her the chance of a mutually respectful association that is what we called a relationship, instead of just fooling around and walk away like a jerk.” Though in this particular scenario, the female individual seemed to matched that perona more, Mia had no intention of pointing that out.

“I’ve not even had a clue how she found this place, I thought she’s just some upper manager of a business, not some sort of a detective.”

Mia squinted her eyes, clearly not buying, “You know, usually a girl found out a guy’s address through a text message or a phone call.”

“Trust me, Mia, I’ve never even asked for her number.” Jason wiped his forehead and started to feel the angst up his gut, but he tried hard to not let it unleash upon Mia. “Do we have enough ingredients for tonight?” He indicated the kitchen bench filled with mixing bowls and food scraps with a nod. Mia gave it a thought, then answered, “We might have just run out of paprika, can you give Roy a ring and ask him to get a jar from the shop?”

“I’ll head down myself, don’t think he can hear the call right now.” Jason turned around to leave. Just when the door’s about to be opened, Mia called his name.

“Jason, do you love Roy?”

His hand on the doorknob came to a sudden halt. He paused for a second, “Why’d you say that?”

Mia took a deep breath, giving her best to not give away the fact that she’s rehearsed over and over what’s coming next. Instead of answering the question, she continued, “I’m not saying the kind of brotherhood you’d shared with Dick or your other partners from the cop shop, what I meant was something like Ollie and Dinah, like between me and James.”

Jason looked to be caught off guard with what she’s just said, and Mia for one was happy with how this whole situation had been going, as he at least didn’t just abruptly deny the question nor went on interrogating why the hell she’d stir up some shit like that. She heaved a sigh of relief, carefully thanking herself for the sharp observation and analysis she’d secretly inducted on themselves.

Jason looked at her, without saying a word, seemed to be still waiting for her to go on. So she did. “Roy is the kind of person that, how should I put this, would rather let his feelings sink than swim if you don’t show anything to him first. Probably why he and Ollie never saw each other eye to eye when they came across.” Jason nodded in agreement. “If he thinks that the other person doesn’t share a mutual feeling, I bet you he’d take it to his grave than ever speaking up about it.” This actually has contradicted to Roy’s impression on him, as he always saw the guy as carefree and weren’t shy about showing his affections towards the others, but Jason wasn’t going to oppose otherwise and just let Mia kept on.

“He had a crush on a girl in that crime fighting group he was in before, always claimed that he wasn’t good enough for her, so the girl never found out his feeling for her in the end.” Mia fixed her eyes on him, her spatula had now dropped to the bench surface as she leaned against the edge with both of her arms, looking at him demurely, “He’s recently acting more and more like that again. I don’t know about you, but here’s what I thought, if that other person this time at least showed him some sort of hints, maybe he wouldn’t have too many regretful undone deeds to carry with him to his tomb after all.”

Jason lowered his head and thought on that for a moment, his hand already loosen from the doorknob and he just noticed how his palm had been sweating all this long. He turned around to face Mia behind the island, who’d clearly done speaking and was waiting patiently for a response. Jason found her gaze again as he meticulously raised his eyes, “And you think this person… is… me?”

Mia grinned, “We both know that his current social life, or rather, his only life is devoted on bringing down that Merlin’s evil little scheme, which the whole operation comprises only two people, and he’s surprisingly one of them.” She could not have been clearer than that who the other person she’s referring to.

Jason couldn’t bring himself to let out of a word. There was too much to be said, too many questions bursting in his chest. When did Mia start to notice Roy’s altered behaviours as she described? How did she work out the confidence to ask him about it and not even worry that she might’ve been wrong? Did Roy ask her to feel him out, or was her perception of Roy’s feeling for him even legit?

“Jason, hello, someone in there?” His thought had been interrupted with her teases as he drown, “So let me ask again, Jason, do you love Roy? The kind of love like between Ollie and Dinah?”

The former Robin had let out a deep breath before cracking her a smile, “I’m gonna go get us some more paprika from the shop.” Then he opened the door and left the apartment.

None of the three housemates had ever demanded paprika when they had lasagna night, Jason knew better than that, and he secretly thanked Mia a thousand times as he sprinted downstairs.

——

End of snippet

End notes:

I draw Royjay fan arts from time to time, if you liked this story you’re welcome to also check them out on my Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/shashawip

#royjay #roy harper #jason todd #Mia dearden #dccomics #red hood and arsenal #red hood and the outlaws #arrowfam #team arrow #speedy #red hood #arsenal #green arrow #jayroy

29 notes · View notes

backtothestart02 · 3 years ago

Text

Just Best Friends - 4/? | westallen fanfiction

A/N: These chaps keep getting longer and longer! (even though technically this one’s a little shorter than ch3, lol. still! It’s exciting. And next chap will be even longer.) Enjoy! This one’s a bit angsty!

...

Chapter 4 -

Iris clutched at her steering wheel, flexing her fingers after she’d parked in front of Eddie’s place. She tried to get her breathing under control. Eddie had told her to leave – to get out – because he couldn’t stand the sight of her anymore. Harsh, to be sure, but maybe valid given what she’d just done. The bowling alley incident really couldn’t have been that bad, but what she’d just done definitely was. Could she really pretend it hadn’t happened?

She looked across the courtyard at the looming, brown building, and thought about Eddie. Sweet, handsome, brave Eddie. He didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve to feel so insecure, and he definitely deserve to be cheated on. She swallowed hard and felt her hands start to slide on the steering wheel. She was sweating.

She quick dried her hands off on her jacket and pulled her keys out of the ignition. Tucking them into her purse, she got out of the car, locked it, and shut the door. Then, gathering all the courage she could muster, she headed toward the building.

There was no way she could go back to her dad’s, not with Barry there, and staying in a hotel…she wasn’t sure she had enough money set aside for that. Hotels in Central City were expensive, even for just one night. Part of her wished she’d brought back Barry’s shirt to sleep in, since she’d obviously be sleeping on the couch tonight, and that would’ve been more comfortable. But she knew that would be suspect when Eddie inevitably saw it the morning, so really this was the best call.

She trudged onward and easily got inside the outside door of the building. Security wasn’t the greatest there, and tonight it worked in her favor. Licking her lips, she turned the knob and pushed open the door to Eddie’s apartment on the second floor. Belatedly she remembered that she’d left her key inside and so had no way to lock it from the outside. Again, it had worked in her favor. This was a safe neighborhood, generally speaking, so she didn’t have to worry about someone breaking in.

Also, she’d been in an emotional state when she left. Much different than how she was now. Now she was riddled with guilt and hoping she didn’t run into Eddie until she had figured out a way to mask that and respond appropriately to a fight with her boyfriend, not having been caught cheating. Because she hadn’t been caught. Thank God. She could only imagine if her dad had walked in while she’d been topless, and Barry too, while they were making out. He’d never taken to Eddie really, but even he could recognize when something was wrong.

He’d be disappointed in her, and that made her feel even worse.

The apartment was quiet when she walked in, and she noticed the bedroom door was still closed. That meant one thing. Eddie had likely passed out on the bed and wouldn’t be waking up till morning. He was dead to the world.

She snatched her key up from where she’d left it and put it back in her purse. Then she quietly walked across the room and slid out of her jacket and shoes, leaving them and the purse on the arm of the couch. Then she sighed, leaned back and laid down, tucking her feet into the cushions and grateful for the knitted blanket Eddie’s grandma had made him that he’d left planted and mostly unused on the couch. It would keep her somewhat warm through the night.

At six a.m., she woke up. The apartment was still deathly quiet, but she thought she could hear a soft snoring from the bedroom. As daring as she’d ever been, she tiptoed over to the bedroom door and opened it. It didn’t creak – thank God. And just like she’d suspected, Eddie was facedown on his pillow, his feet hanging off the end of the bed, still in his police uniform, sans jacket. That was tossed haphazardly on the floor.

Not wanting to wake him, she continued to tiptoe to her side of the closet and picked out her outfit for the day. Then she walked back out of the bedroom, closed the door as slowly and quietly as she could manage and headed for the bathroom to take a shower.

She didn’t know if Eddie was awake or not, if the sound of the water running had woken him, but the bedroom door was still closed when she exited the bathroom. Grateful for the makeup bag she had in her purse, she quickly applied her make-up, minus the lipstick, and then poured herself some cereal while she waited. When she was finished eating, she brushed her teeth and then made the finishing touches to her appearance. Eddie still hadn’t come out.

As a quasi-peace offering, she made the hangover concoction she’d learned about in college. It tasted nasty as hell, but it worked wonders the night after a drunken binge. And that was definitely what had happened with Eddie, she decided.

She was still trying to figure out how to respond to whatever he had to say this morning when the bedroom door swung open, creaking actually, which surprised her, and there stood Eddie. A couple of his buttons were undone, and his hair was going in all different directions. Normally that look turned her on or made her soft, one of the two, but right now she was just tense. He was so angry last night. She didn’t know what to expect.

“Good morning,” she said, doing the best she could not to have a clipped tone.

He shuffled over to her, and she slid the drink slowly over to him. He took one look and wrinkled his nose but seemed to understand that he’d need it if he was going to be able to function at work today. He took a sip and then paused, inevitably deciding he needed to take it in stages.

“You look nice,” he said, which got a long, suspicious pause from her.

“Thank you,” she said finally.

“How come you didn’t come to bed last night?”

That really made her pause. Her mouth fell open, but somehow she regained her composure.

“You…you don’t remember?”

His brows furrowed.

“No.”

A panic crossed his face, and she knew it definitely made him nervous that he couldn’t remember. He really wasn’t prone to getting drunk, or he’d have recognized the signs.

“We had a fight, Eddie,” she said gently. “You…you kicked me out.”

“I-” His eyes bulged. “Wait…then how are you here? Did you…not listen?”

He was genuinely confused, but the words made her bristle.

“No, I did. I went to my dad’s. But uh…I figured you wouldn’t like me spending the night there, given who else lives there and what we’d been fighting about.”

It took him a minute, but then it dawned on him.

“We fought about Barry.”

She nodded, not looking at him.

“Did anything else happen?”

“I made you dinner… Lasagna.”

“Oh! Lasagna!” He perked up. “Did I like it?” He asked hesitantly.

She shook her head.

His brows furrowed in confusion again.

“It was cold by the time you got home,” she said on a sigh. “The candles were almost out…and you didn’t notice my sexy dress I bought on the way home…and the heels.”

As if he realized the massive failure he’d become the night before, he came around the counter and took her hands in his own.

“Iris, I am so sorry. I had no right to act that way, and I shouldn’t have gone out and gotten drunk. That’s so…so unlike me.”

She nodded. “It is.”

“Please forgive me.”

Flashes of Barry devouring her skin raced before her eyes. She looked up at Eddie, looking so sincere, so apologetic.

“Of course I forgive you.”

She cupped one cheek with her hand, brushing her thumb along the side of his face before dropping it again.

“But maybe we can talk more about…the reason for the fight later? I do want to work through it. When you’re sober though, and not hung over.”

He nodded.

“Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

She reached up and placed a kiss where her hand had been before moving past him and grabbing her purse before heading to the door. She stopped when her hand was on the handle and turned to look at him.

“I love you, Eddie.”

He attempted a smile.

“I love you, too.”

Her smile was tremulous as she turned back around, opened the door and headed out.

Now alone, Eddie ran his hands through his hair before hiding his face behind both palms.

“I’m such an ass,” was muffled.

Then he downed the rest of the drink and got ready for work. He’d be a little late probably, but it’d be worth it if he was put together. Thanks to Iris.

…

In his defense, he hadn’t gotten himself off to images of Iris for the past several weeks – since he’d been dating Linda. But, also in his defense, he hadn’t had material like he now had with which to get off to. Not that he needed erotic material to get off to Iris. He’d been getting off to her since his teen years, ever since puberty hit. And that was just by being herself, his gorgeous best friend.

But now…well, he’d seen her practically naked. He’d inhaled her breasts and devoured her mouth. He’d groped her body and had her flush against his. Was it really so wrong that he’d caved and worked himself into an aroused frenzy in his bed, cumming to her whispered name as his brow sweat and his body shivered?

After all, he and Linda were on a break.

Damn.

He zoomed to the bathroom immediately after and took a cold shower. Then he got ready for the day. His biggest priority was getting out of the house before Joe sat him down to question him over breakfast. He knew it was coming, and he hadn’t figured out yet how to explain any more penetrating questions. Especially since he remembered belatedly what the state of the kitchen had been just before he and Iris…

Well, just before they…

His face got hot, and he hastily dressed. He couldn’t bring himself to look in the mirror until he absolutely had to for parting his hair. He had to make sure his hair was just right. What if Iris stopped by the station to see her dad on her lunch break?

What if she came to see Eddie?

He swallowed and looked away, heading back to his room to get his briefcase.

Iris was going to break up with Eddie, right? She had to. He was going to break up with Linda. After last night, how couldn’t he? He’d agreed to the no-sex-with-Iris clause when Linda had put them on a break. He didn’t want that holding them back anymore.

I mean, if Iris wanted to take things slow after how fast things had escalated last night, he would respect that.

But if she didn’t… He smirked slyly.

And besides, as soon as Eddie knew Iris had cheated on him, there was no way he’d want to stay dating her. He wouldn’t be able to trust her, even if she swore she’d never do it again. Especially since he’d been suspicious right from the start.

Barry worried suddenly if he might get punched as a result.

It would be worth it if it meant he’d end up dating Iris. There was no way she could deny the spark between them any longer anyway. And Barry wasn’t going to just settle for fleeting ‘moments’ where he wondered if she felt the same now. Not after last night. Last night had been insane, in the best way.

The only thing standing between them now was Eddie and Linda. He’d clear up his end of things today, as soon as possible, maybe on his lunch break, maybe sooner. He’d just have to trust that Iris would clear up her end too.

He grabbed a bagel from the kitchen and sped out of the house before Joe could do anything but feel the wind whipping around him as he stood on his way down the staircase. Barry couldn’t be caught by him. He wasn’t ready. He’d think of something later. And hey, if Iris broke up with Eddie today – or vice versa – Barry could just explain away that they’d had another moment and had decided to be together now – him and Iris. Then he wouldn’t have to get into details. It was the perfect disguise.

Seconds later, he stepped out of the elevator at CCPD. Smiling like the fool he was, he started making his way towards the stairs and his lab, hoping he’d be able to focus on something other than his soon to be cleared up relationship drama while he worked.

It was all according to plan until none other but Eddie intercepted him halfway to the stairs. Barry came to a halt and frowned immediately.

“Eddie.”

He forced his face to clear.

“Is something, um… What’s up?” He crossed his arms.

“I just wanted to thank you.”

Barry was taken aback. His eyebrows rose.

Thank him? For what? Making Iris see the light perhaps? This was so far from a punch he could hardly believe it.

“Uh…for what?”

“For taking Iris in last night, even if it was just for a few hours.” He paused. “I’m sure she told you about our fight.”

“Mm. Mhmm.”

Barry nodded, avoiding his gaze.

“I wasn’t myself last night, and I’m ashamed. I’ve already told her as much, and she’s graciously forgiven me. It’ll probably take some time to get back to where we were, but I guess…I shouldn’t have doubted where her loyalties lay, no matter where my head was at.” He gripped Barry’s shoulder, and Barry looked down at it. “I know I can always depend on you when it comes to Iris.”

“Of course,” Barry heard himself say, then forced some easiness into his voice. “I mean, of course you can! She’s Iris. We’re just best friends, Eddie.”

Eddie nodded.

“I know that now. I hope there are no…bad feelings between us?”

“What?” His voice went high-pitched. “No, no, of course not. We’re good. Just…no kicking Iris out again, yeah?”

Eddie chuckled. “Don’t worry. I won’t be doing that ever again.”

“Great,” Barry said through his teeth. “Well, I should…” He gestured to the stairs.

“Right. Right, of course. Go ahead. I’ll see you later.”

“Right. See you later.”

Barry nearly tripped over his own feet making the first step towards the stairs. Eddie waved awkwardly, and Barry finally turned around and walked to the stairs. His heart was pounding the whole time, and not like it had been last night. This was not at all going according to plan, or how he thought it would go.

Iris hadn’t told Eddie what had happened between them. He knew it wasn’t his place to tell, that Iris would be furious if he did, and honestly, he didn’t want to have that conversation. Still, this complicated things.

Maybe Iris would tell him later, on her lunch break. That would work out. They would both break up with their respective partners at the same time. Then by the end of the day, they would talk about where they stood and hopefully schedule a first date!

That was definitely how it would go.

He hoped.

…

The morning had been awkward, to say the least. Linda hadn’t approached her at all. Not that Iris expected her to. Their last conversation hadn’t exactly been pleasant, and they did work on opposite ends of the main room at CCPN. Still, given what Barry had said, that they’d been on a break, she wondered if Linda wasn’t a fan of her at all now. Not that they’d really been friends friends before. They’d just known each other through Barry. Linda had been his girlfriend, and now she wasn’t. Not really at least. They were on a break.

Iris wondered if that was her fault. She had, after all, instigated all the affectionate touching with Barry at the bowling alley. He’d eagerly participated, and that was probably what drove Linda to instigate a break, but she couldn’t help feeling guilty.

And then of course there was last night…

She nibbled on her bottom lip, as she stared at the blank page before her. Mason had been giving her looks every so often, indicating that he too had seen the blank page. She tried to ignore them, tried to stop looking across the room to see if Linda was looking at her too. She never was. Linda remained diligently with her eyes on her own computer, and occasionally she appeared to be engaging in small talk with her co-workers around her.

It was as if she was completely oblivious to Iris’ existence. She didn’t know if she was relieved or worried by that possible fact.

“Something on your mind?” Mason asked, one paragraph and three hours later.

Iris closed the document on her computer and gave him a serene smile, while gathering up her purse.

“Nope. Just glad it’s lunchtime.”

She stood to her feet.

“Because you’ve done so much work today,” he said dryly.

She continued to smile, pretending to be unaffected by his remark. For the most part, she was.

“I’ll be back in an hour.”

He might’ve said something else after that, but Iris tuned it out as she strutted toward the exit, not even glancing back to see if Linda had caught her leaving. Maybe she just had to work on putting whatever association she had with her behind her. What really mattered was making things right with Eddie and making sure Barry never said a peep about last night.

She thought about what she was willing to risk to make both those things happen and started to worry. Still, she knew Eddie and her relationship with him needed to take priority if things were going to go smoothly going forward. If that meant less time with Barry, so be it.

Her heart ached remembering the time last fall when Barry had put distance between them and how relieved she’d been when they made up. She’d lost Barry for nine months in a coma. Was she really willing to put their friendship on hold indefinitely in order to keep Eddie?

Her heart pounded inside her chest and sweat formed on her forehead. She wiped it away hastily and walked out the door, hurrying as fast as she could to CCPD. The weather was nice, but she could hardly enjoy it. Everything was uncertain right now.

Stepping outside the elevator, Iris made her way to the desks just inside the police station. She smiled and waved pleasantly to her dad, deliberately avoiding eye contact with Barry who stood right beside him. She hoped he wouldn’t come over to her and ask to talk. She was here for one person, and that person was who she hoped would still be her boyfriend by the end of the day. Barry didn’t intercept her on the way to Eddie’s desk and neither did her dad. She was grateful.

“Hey,” she said warmly, hoping to get her boyfriend’s attention.

He was on the phone and didn’t look in her direction. He held up a finger for her to wait, and as jittery as she was, she found it in her to do so. As soon as he hung up, he turned to look at her and smiled.

“Iris, hey.”

He stood up and surprised her with a kiss on the lips.

“Oh, hey,” she said. “Good to see you too.”

He continued to smile.

“I hope you’re here to have lunch with me,” he said, tugging at her dress to urge her closer.

Reluctantly, she went.

What had gotten into him? She wondered. Did he think that just because they’d exchanged I love you’s on her way out the door that morning that everything was okay? Because for her it wasn’t. It definitely wasn’t.

“I am,” she allowed, then lowered her voice. “But I’d also like to talk about last night. You know, like I said this morning?”

“Right now?” he asked, pulling her onto his lap. She braced her hand on his shoulder. “I was hoping we could wait till later.” He pressed a kiss to her shoulder and then inched his thumb just under the hem of her skirt. “Much later.”

She huffed and pushed herself off his lap. Reluctantly, he let her go.

“Not much later?” he asked, with puppy dog eyes that were not working on her, not at all.

“No.” She propped one hand on her hip. “We had a fight, Eddie. And drunk or not, we need to talk about it. Or there’s no going forward for us.”

He sobered up immediately, then got to his feet and set his hands on her shoulders.

“I want a future for us, Iris. I do. More than anything I’ve wanted maybe in my life.”

“Okay. Then can we talk about it?” She tilted her head. “Please?”

He released her, then sat on his desk.

“Okay. But first there’s something you should know.”

She folded her arms.

“What’s that?”

“I talked to Barry.”

She went cold.

“What?”

“Yeah, I thanked him for what he did for you last night.”

Her heart started to race.

“What did he do for me?” she asked, desperately hoping Barry hadn’t confessed what she was worried he might. Certainly Eddie would be acting much differently if he had. She looked around the room briefly, searching for the man in question, but he was gone. So was her dad. They must’ve gone out to lunch together. She looked back at Eddie.

“You know, taking you in, letting you spend some time at your old home after I…did what I did.”

She relaxed.

“After you kicked me out, you mean,” she said.

“Yeah. I’ll never stop apologizing for that, by the way. I was out of line.”

“Maybe we should talk about what led to you doing that,” she said gently.

“Could you remind me what that was?” he asked, wincing and probably hoping she wouldn’t get too upset by his memory loss.

Iris restrained a sigh.

“You just brought up what happened at the bowling alley, my interactions with Barry and how they affected you. You insisted it meant I had feelings for him. Then you kicked me out.”

“I was wrong,” he said, standing up again.

“You were?” Her brows furrowed.

“Yeah. I know there’s nothing between the two of you but friendship. I mean, nothing happened between the two of you last night, did it?”

She panicked for half a second. Luckily it didn’t show.

“Are you really asking me that?”

“No,” he said instantly. “No, of course not. It was more of a rhetorical question really.” He cleared his throat.

She looked at him suspiciously.

“It’s what I told Barry.”

“What did you tell Barry?” she asked.

“That I understand there’s only friendship between you two. There’s nothing for me to worry about.”

“There isn’t,” she said defensively. “Anything for you to worry about, I mean.”

“Exactly. I know that now. And I trust you completely. Can we please move past this?”

She sighed.

“I mean, I want to…”

“But?”

“Well, I guess, I thought you were going to blame me.”

His eyebrows furrowed.

“You did?”

“Yeah. I was gonna be willing to put my friendship with Barry on hold…indefinitely.”

“Oh, my God, Iris. I would never ask that of you.”

“You’re sure?” She nibbled on her bottom lip.

“Absolutely. I know how much you mean to each other. And if you’re certain there’s nothing going on between the two of you, I believe you from here on out.”

“I wish you’d believed me before.”

“I do now though. I promise.”

She swallowed and nodded.

“It may take me some time, Eddie, to believe that you actually trust me now. Last night was…it was hard for me. You hurt me.”

He blew out a gust of air.

“I know. I’m so sorry for that. It won’t happen again.”

She eyed him cautiously.

“How about…How about we have a romantic night tonight? This time I cook for you. I’ll even make one of those special recipes you like. Grandma Shirley, right?”

She snorted. “Esther actually, but yeah. Sure. I’d like that.”

“Yeah?”

She leaned in for a kiss.

“It’s a start.”

…

Barry trudged into CCPN, hoping beyond all hope not only that Linda hadn’t taken her lunch break elsewhere, but also that Iris wasn’t back yet. He didn’t want her interrupting things, and definitely not distracting him. He’d arrived with purpose, and he was going to deliver on his mission as swiftly as he could with as little hurt inflicted as possible.

He spotted Linda almost immediately, and Iris wasn’t at her desk, so he guessed she was probably still gone too. Linda caught his gaze and then quickly looked away, resuming what looked to be a paper bag lunch. He walked over to her, glad there were no other people surrounding her or the adjacent desks and braced himself for the worst.

“We need to break up.”

Linda paused with her apple halfway to her mouth. She set it down on her desk and swiveled her chair towards him.

“Well, hello to you too, Allen.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets, impatient to get this conversation over with.

“Sorry. Hi, Linda. How’s your day?” he asked speedily.

She snorted. “Just fine, and yours?”

“Linda,” he groaned.

“Fine. You want to break up? Officially?”

He nodded.

“Why the change of heart? – If I may ask. Yesterday you seemed pretty resistant to even the idea of a break. I was actually considering changing my mind after thinking about it overnight.”

He winced.

“Does it matter?”

“A little.” Her voice rose slightly.

He swallowed.

“Something may have…happened.”

She rose her brows.

“Between me and Iris.”

She sank back in her chair and drummed her fingers on the arms of her chair.

“Did you sleep with her?” she finally asked.

“No!” he said immediately, before regaining some calm. “I mean, you told me not to.”

She laughed painfully.

“Is that the only reason?”

“No,” he said truthfully.

Iris had put a stop to it. That was the truth. But Linda didn’t need to know that.

“You don’t want to know how far-”

She held up one hand.

“No. Please. Spare me.”

He nodded.

“I’m sorry, Linda. I really did – do – have strong feelings for you.”

She got up to her feet, pushing the irritation aside and focusing instead on how much she cared about him and did want him to be happy.

“Just not as strong as what you feel for someone else.”

She smiled sadly, then leaned up to press a gentle kiss to his cheek.

“Go get her,” she said, softly.

He raised his eyebrows, surprised, but then turned to look when Linda gestured toward the other side of the room, and sure enough Iris was at her desk now.

Barry took a breath and nodded.

“Thank you, Linda. I am sorry things didn’t work out between us.”

She forced a smile.

“I know. Me too.”

He turned fully and headed over to Iris’ desk. He saw one of her co-workers saying something to her and her talking with them briefly and did his best to remain patient until they had finished their conversation. Iris seemed to be oblivious to his presence anyway.

When they were done, he approached her desk and waited exactly three seconds before actively working to get her attention.

“Iris, hey.”

She glanced up at him and appeared slightly unnerved before smiling brilliantly.

“Barry, hi. What are you doing here?” she asked.

“Linda and I broke up.”

Her mouth fell open, but a moment later she shut it and opted for confusion and sadness.

“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that.”

His brows furrowed. “You are?”

“Well, yeah.” She leaned back in her chair and crossed one knee over the other. “I mean, I thought you really liked her.”

“I did.” He frowned. “But I broke up with her.”

Surprise flashed across her face. She tried valiantly to shake it off.

“Why would you do that?” she asked, getting up and walking away. He walked with her.

“Well, I…” His frown deepened. “I thought it would be obvious. After last night…”

She froze, then grabbed a hold of his jacket and tugged him down a hall behind the main room and pinned him to the wall.

“Did you tell Linda what happened?”

His eyes widened, horrified at how threatening she was being. In most of his fantasies where she pinned him to a wall, they did not go like this.

“Well, I…I…”

“Did you?!”

“Yes!” he said, frantically. “I mean, partially.”

“Partially? What does that mean?”

“It means…I said something happened between us. She didn’t want to know any details, since I said we didn’t have sex.”

“Which we didn’t.”

“I know! Believe me, I know.”

“Okay…” She took a deep breath and started to pace. “Okay. This is not the end of the world. I will just…have a conversation with her to make sure she doesn’t tell Eddie.”

He frowned.

“You mean…you didn’t tell Eddie?”

She stopped and looked at him as if he’d lost his mind.

“Of course not. He’d break up with me if I did.”

Barry’s mouth fell open.

“But I thought…I mean…”

His heart started to plummet. This was so not going as planned.

Iris softened, realizing for the first time where Barry’s head was probably at.

“Look, Barry…what happened last night was-”

“A mistake,” he concluded, not looking at her.

“Well, yeah.” He bit her lip. “Eddie’s the man I live with. The man I love. You and I are just…”

“Best friends,” he finished.

“I hope we can be.”

His eyes closed. When they opened, they were stone cold. She’d never seen them so cold.

“Of course, Iris. That’s what we’ll always be.”

He turned to leave, and she reached out for him.

“Barry, wai-”

But he didn’t stop, and he pulled free of her. He walked now with purpose towards the exit, his heart smashed to smithereens.

What in the world had made him think things would be different this time?

Oh, yeah. That kiss.

#westallen #westallen fanfiction #backtothestart02 fanfiction #just best friends #chapter 4 #angst

18 notes · View notes

svtskneecaps · 4 years ago

Text

Number 17

Vernon Chwe x (gender netural) reader

Words: 5048

Genre: fluff, some pining (does pining count as angst?)

neighbor! childhood friend! aus

you’re feeling the summer listlessness. vernon helps you find something to do

day 35 of a tct summer collab

(holy shit guys i’ve been excited to post this since like, MAY holy shit i hope y’all enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it)

(my masterlist)

You shot him a text. Very simple.

vernon i’m going crazy

He shot a text back. Very simple.

why

why do you think? you ask. i don’t know what to do

it’s summer, he says, you can do anything. for example, i’m lying in bed enjoying myself

it’s 1 pm

it’s summer

Who are you to argue with that?

i’m still going crazy. you might be able to stay in bed all day but i’m gonna go insane

so find something to do

i can’t, you say, because it’s true.

all year you were listing hundreds of things you would do when you got the time

i know, you say, i know. but it’s like, now i have the time, but i just feel paralyzed. i don’t know what to do

And you wait for a response and none comes for long enough that you worry you said something that was too weird even for him, but then your screen goes dark and your phone buzzes and his contact is on screen. You answer and his messy bedhead fills your screen.

“You want me to decide?” he asks, and his voice is rough like he just woke up.

“Sure,” you say.

“Try baking something,” he says. “Like chocolate chip cookies or a pie or something.”

“You’re just saying that because you want to eat it.”

“Absolutely,” he mumbles, face still half buried in his pillow. “I can grab a quick shower and come over just in time for the taste test.”

You snicker. “No way, you don’t have the palette for a taste test.”

“Alright, then I’ll put them in the oven and we’ll hit up a couple friends and force them to try it.”

And. . . honestly that doesn’t sound half bad. It’s been five days since you saw anyone outside your immediate family--which is suffocating in its loneliness, after the routine closeness of the year--and maybe that’ll make you feel less paralyzed.

“Okay,” you say.

True to his word, Vernon’s over within thirty minutes, leaning his bike up against yours in the garage. He handles the oven for you, although not without teasing you about the time you burned yourself on the top of the oven while taking out your grandma’s angel food cake at Christmas.

“Well at least I helped you remember how coordinates work,” you say, because you both knew that was the reason you two learned whether to move on the x or y axis so much faster than your classmates.

“At least I know how to keep my skin intact,” he shoots back.

While taking the tray out of the oven he very nearly blisters his thumb and drops the tray; after securing the tray’s safety and running cold water over the blister, once your heartbeat returns to something acceptable, you inform him that instead of cookies he’ll be eating his words, to which he responds with, “At least my words taste good,” and you snap him with the towel. He flicks water at you, and only the fear of having even more to clean up keeps you from starting all out war. You tell him to bring his swimsuit over tomorrow, though. There’s mischief in his eyes as he agrees.

You each balance a tupperware of cooled cookies on your handlebars as you coast through the neighborhood, knocking on doors and handing them out to friends and friends’ parents. Minghao takes three. Seungkwan’s mother trades you two bottles of water, fresh from the fridge, for a cookie and first dibs on the next batch. She takes another one and says it’s to give to Seungkwan when he gets home from acting camp, but winks when she says it. You snap Seungkwan the picture of his mom with the cookie, and he snaps back a picture of himself and Jun making dorky faces demanding you save a few for them because make no mistake we will be swinging by your house when we’re done for the day and we expect cookies you two!

Jeonghan and Joshua aren’t home, but you find them all hanging out in Seungcheol’s pool. Jeonghan asks why you aren’t selling your cookies. “Because this is the taste test,” Vernon says. “We’ll be getting you hooked on this batch and then start charging ten bucks on the next round.” Jeonghan praises your business sense and takes a bite out of Seungcheol’s cookie while he isn’t looking. Seungcheol tackles him into the pool and you leave before the ensuing splash fight can get the cookies wet.

True to their word, Jun pulls into the driveway with Seungkwan in the passenger’s seat and Mingyu in the backseat (they must’ve agreed to carpool with Mingyu after his cooking workshop), and you get nervous because Mingyu’s going to college for baking and everyone knows that out of the group Mingyu is the best cook, but Vernon presents him with a cookie no hesitation and Mingyu tells you they’re amazing, and Vernon gives you this smile as if to say, see, nothing to worry about.

Wednesday, Vernon comes over with his swimsuit and you make a pair of rudimentary signs for a car wash out of an old cardboard box. His is very simple, bubble letters with the address and CAR WASH in all caps. You tried to get a little creative with yours.

“I love it,” Vernon says, crouched next to you as you hover over your sign. “You can almost hear the cloud cow saying ‘graphic design is my passion’.”

You push his shoulder hard enough that he topples over, laughing. “It’s supposed to be a soapy car!”

He’s so proud of himself for that joke that he suggests you start a car wash company instead of going to college. “You can call it Clean Mooters,” he says, as you’re filling your buckets.

You blast him with the hose and he laughs so hard he snorts.

You spend the day covered in soap and water, spraying Vernon with the hose if there isn’t a car to wash and shrieking and trying to dance around behind him every time he gets the hose from you. When the cars stop coming you pack up shop, uprooting the signs and taking them inside, tossing them in the recycling bin.

Thursday it’s raining outside. Vernon comes over anyway. You call him an idiot. “Don’t you know the rain’ll rust your bike?”

He shrugs with a half smile, shrugging off a raincoat that now has a strip of mud up the back where his tires kicked up the dirty street water. “There’s only a hundred and four days of summer vacation,” he says. “I didn’t want to miss one.”

You seize his coat and toss it in the sink, bowing your head to scrub off the mud so he doesn’t see how red your cheeks have become.

You play Mario Kart on the Wii for most of the day (Vernon hits you with a red shell right before you cross the finish line; you hip check him off Rainbow Road), and even as out of practice as the both of you have become over the school year, you’re still pretty well matched. By the time you get bored with that, your mom has texted to say she’s going to need to stay at work a little longer and you might be on your own for dinner. That’s fine, you and Vernon try out a recipe for lasagna that you found on a food blog (buried under the woman’s lengthy story of the time her husband nearly got stomped by a cow. “It’s a sign,” Vernon says, “Clean Mooters is your true calling.” You’d hit him if you weren’t very carefully adding a layer of sauce).

It’s still raining when Vernon has to leave. You stand there, just outside the cover of the garage, watching Vernon shrug on his raincoat.

“You’re gonna get soaked,” he says.

“You say that like I care,” you say, rain beginning to drip down your hair.

He steps out of the garage then, too, standing next to you. You turn your face to the sky, closing your eyes against the heavy drops that splatter against your cheeks.

“You’re gonna catch your death.”

“Says the guy who’s wearing a raincoat with the hood down.” You shove his chest without looking. He catches your hands. You look down.

Your eyes meet.

Vernon drops your hands and coughs. You reach up to brush the water from your forehead, gaze on the ground as your face burns, despite the cool rainwater still sliding down your cheeks.

“I, um, I should go,” he says.

“Yeah,” you say. “See you.”

He hops on his bike and rides away. The rain falls so hard you lose sight of him before he rounds the corner.

Saturday the whole team gets together at Jeonghan’s house, because he has a firepit. Seungkwan is standing on the picnic table when you ride up, in the middle of a dramatic retelling of some odd thing that happened at acting camp. He appears to be fencing Vernon with an imaginary sword, and you can only imagine the context of that story. You don’t announce yourself, for fear of making one of them fall off, and help Wonwoo get the food from the kitchen. Mingyu is already getting set up at the grill (despite being one of the youngest, he’s the only one any parent trusts near the grill; previous block barbeques have ended in disaster that no one’s eager to repeat). Minghao is by the firepit, holding the lighter very tightly, either to keep it away from Soonyoung or to ensure he’s the one to start the fire.

Seungkwan jumps down from the table when Jihoon tells him to, although he continues telling his story in an enthusiastic yell. Vernon meets your eyes and grins, flicking his eyes at Seungkwan like you’re sharing an inside joke like normal, and you can almost forget that moment in the rain ever happened.

Nearby, Jeonghan is filling a plastic baby pool with water. You ask him what it’s for but he just grins and tells you it’s a secret. When it comes to Jeonghan that’s usually cause for concern, but also you’re itchy inside your skin and all you did Friday was pick out a couple songs on the old piano your great grandmother left your family and no matter what the adventure you’re down for it, so you leave him to it. It’s the first bonfire of the summer. You can handle anything.

They get the fire started before Mingyu finishes grilling, the smell of the meat wafting over the yard and making your stomach rumble. Unfortunately, they misjudged the wind direction and half of the chairs are directly in the path of the smoke. There’s a lot of complaining as people rush to shift their chairs out of the way. Vernon ends up next to you in the scramble. You aren’t complaining; now you get to tease him about the way he seasons his food and he’ll tease you back about your tendency to drown your burgers in ketchup.

(except you don’t; you eat quietly and neither of you bring up the other’s habits and somewhere deep down that scares you)

When the sun goes down, Jeonghan and Joshua bring out the alcohol, and everyone who’s old enough drinks.

The baby pool, Jeonghan says, is for the losers of the tournament. The tournament, he says, is simple. And for pairs.

The first challenge is a wheelbarrow race down the street. You thought you and Vernon had a pretty good chance of winning, but then, by some divine magic, Jihoon and Mingyu shoot off and cross the finish line miles before everyone else. Half the group calls bologna because come on they’ve got just about the biggest height difference between them, out of everyone, but Joshua was reffing the starting line and didn’t see any false starts; they won fair and square.

The second challenge is hula hooping. You don’t have much hope for your score, not because you’re bad at hula hooping, but because you’re bad at hula hooping when Vernon is right next to you and also hula hooping. You end up laughing so hard that you lose your hoop within three spins, but in the end it doesn’t matter, because Vernon can carry the team score to victory.

“Who needs eight years of gymnastics?” he asks, and you beam.

The third challenge is a ‘who knows their partner the best’ challenge. Jeonghan put together a list of questions, which he and Joshua list off and give time for each partner to write down both their answer and what they think their partner put. You’re a little scared; you’ve known Vernon for as long as you can remember but sometimes you wonder if you really know him like you think you do. The questions aren’t so bad, simply asking what your partner’s favorite clothing brand is, or what time they get up in the morning, or what they think of pineapple on pizza. You breeze through the questions, until the last one. Joshua lists the final question, which member of the group is their favorite?

Your answer is simple enough, but you aren’t sure of his. Sure, you partnered up, but Seungkwan had all but thrown himself directly at Wonwoo when Jeonghan sent you off to partner and you knew Vernon and Seungkwan had known each other long before you had talked to anyone in the neighborhood or gone to a barbeque or slotted yourself into the dynamic of the block, and you knew he and Joshua had a special sort of friendship because of their similar heritage and you just didn’t know for sure what he would put (especially after the strange moment in the rain; you weren’t sure what it meant and you weren’t sure you wanted to know).

Eventually you write Seungkwan’s name on the sheet and hand the paper to Jeonghan when he comes around to collect. You fidget with your fingers as they tally up the scores. Next to you, Seokmin hops up to either get into a passionate debate with Soonyoung over what his true favorite movie is or to maybe just tackle Soonyoung into the grass. Either way, Vernon slides into his empty chair.

“So what’d you put for number seven?” he asks, waggling his eyebrows.

You roll your eyes, knowing exactly what he means. “Clean Mooters,” you say.

He pumps his fist. “I knew you’d see the light eventually!”

“Well I did get the most tips,” you tease.

“Well of course,” he says, “you’re the best looking, it’s only natural.”

Jeonghan calls out that they’ve tallied up the scores before you can process the full implications of that sentence.

You win that round too. Joshua hands the sheets back, and you carefully fold yours and shove it in your pocket.

You play a few more rounds: the chubby bunny challenge (Mingyu crammed an ungodly amount of marshmallows in his mouth, you almost wanted to go to church after seeing that; he kept going even after he won, until he almost choked and Joshua shut him down), the perfect s’more challenge (which you suspect was just an excuse for Jeonghan to get s’mores without having to make them; Mingyu’s first marshmallow slid off his stick, and the second caught fire; Seungcheol and Chan ended up winning and Seokmin called nepotism), the long jump (Soonyoung got overexcited and misjudged his landing; he landed hard on the cement and although he was totally fine, he would ask Jeonghan at random intervals for bonus points because of his injury with a shit eating grin all the while), and finally, a game of hide and seek.

The hide and seek rules are simple; they’ve been the same since you were old enough to be outside after sunset: don’t go off the block, don’t go inside, don’t leave your partner, and don’t use a light. The tournament judges give you thirty seconds head start. You and Vernon take off down the street and the thrill of the game sings through your bloodstream.

“Think they’ll think to look for us up Mrs. Boo’s tree?” Vernon asks as you run.

“Yeah, you remember Seungcheol did that once and Jeonghan’s never forgotten it, it’s the first place he’ll look.” You pass Chan and Seungcheol as they try to conceal themselves behind the Christmas decorations that Mr. Wilkinson still hasn’t taken down. “Mrs. Kim’s porch?”

“No, she’s got her light on.”

You skid to a halt at the end of the street, chests heaving, both casting around for a hiding space. Down the street, Joshua is beginning to yell, counting down from 10. Vernon tugs your sleeve, and points.

You grin.

Moments later, you resettle the plastic lid onto the box, burying yourselves carefully under the tarp inside and setting a few bricks on your backs for good measure. Mr. Lee is upgrading his yard this summer, and one addition is planned to be a brick footpath, and thankfully he left the tote of bricks out where you could get to it. Holding the tarp firmly in place, with the bricks above you for insurance, if they open the tote and decide to slap the tarp, you would just feel like a full box of footpath bricks.

Perfect.

Of course, it’s a pretty small space and you and Vernon have to lie pretty close to one another in order to fit, and your foot presses against his shin and his elbow is in your stomach, but if you lay there and don’t breathe, you’ll have the game in the bag.

“So,” Vernon says, voice so soft it’s sometimes hardly more than a breath, “what’d you put for number seventeen?”

You think back. “Vernon there was no number seventeen.”

“No?” he asks, with a tone like he’d always known. “Guess I’ll have to make one up.”

You snort, very softly. In the distance, yelling breaks out; Soonyoung and Seokmin just got found.

“How do you feel about long distance relationships?” he asks, so softly you nearly miss it.

Your heart skips a beat. You’re pretty sure he’s implying something but you aren’t sure if it should scare you or not. “I think they’re hard,” you say carefully. “Not impossible. But it takes work from both sides. So it’s hard.”

You hear him inhale like he’s going to say something, but he doesn’t, and you feel the breeze from his exhale on your face. Neither of you speak, and you aren’t sure if it’s because you’re listening hard for the seekers or because you have nothing left to say.

The lid of the tote scrapes. You stop breathing. Jeonghan says something above you, drowned out by the beating of your heart. He pulls the lid off, and the moonlight filtering through the pinholes in the tarp might as well be a searchlight after the darkness.

Vernon’s face is inches from yours.

You blink, feeling like your eyelashes will brush his face with the motion. They don’t. Jeonghan pokes the tarp, hitting one of the bricks lying on your side. Apparently satisfied, he closes the lid. His footsteps recede.

Vernon’s face is still burned into your eyes like a sunspot.

He was staring at your lips.

You end up losing hide and seek, despite your perfect spot, because Minghao and Jun somehow managed to get onto Jeonghan’s roof (nobody’s managed to guess how and the pair smugly refuse to tell). The tournament ends with only Seungkwan and Wonwoo having not won any challenges. They change into swimsuits and dunk themselves in the baby pool, and then sprint back across the lawn to their towels yelling about the cold (you put a finger in; it wasn’t nearly as bad as when Jeonghan had filled it).

Vernon stops you before you get on your bike to get home.

“I’m. . . gonna be out of town for a couple weeks,” he says, one hand rubbing the back of his neck. “I can still facetime, but probably only in the mornings and evenings.”

“Okay,” you say, even as your heart sinks (he’s never been away this long).

“Yeah,” he says, and you stand there beside your bikes, looking at each other, like you’re both a little lost in what to do. His eyes keep flicking to your lips.

“So what’d you put for number seventeen?” you ask softly.

He doesn’t hesitate. “I think it could work,” he says, voice as soft as it was in the tote, and you find yourself leaning in to listen. “Easily, even, if it was someone as special as--”

He goes quiet. “As?” you prompt.

He shakes his head. “Someone special,” he says.

You haven’t drank at all but something still buzzes in your veins. It’s the first Saturday bonfire of the summer, and moon floats above the horizon like a glowing balloon, and a warm breeze caresses your skin, and you don’t feel afraid of anything.

“I guess it could work easy,” you say, “if it was someone like you.”

He stares at you long enough that you think maybe you overstepped and your cheeks start to heat and you duck your head and step back with something like an apology and--

--his lips crash into yours.

You don’t know if the kiss lasts for three seconds or three hours. All you know is when you break for breath, you find yourself caught in his eyes, the same familiar deep brown as you’ve seen for years growing up through schools and summers and camps and sleepovers, lying on the floor of the living room and whispering about movies and grades like they were the most important thing in the world.

And then you blink and the world unfreezes and he mumbles something about a curfew and you mumble something about your mom and as if pulled by the same strings you mount your bikes and pedal off in opposite directions.

You lie awake for hours, thinking about his eyes.

You facetime at any and all available hours. You find yourself staying up later to be able to catch him on a lunch break. And it’s hard, but you do it. Because, look, everyone on the block has known that his parents want him to go to Korea for college, and that he wants to go to Korea for college. For years you’ve known this moment was coming. And he’s only going to be there a couple weeks for some kind of tour he landed because his grandmother knows a guy who knows a gal who’s related to a guy who used to babysit for the guy on the school board, or something, and then he’ll come back and you can spend the remainder of the summer doing whatever.

Until then, you’re content to wake up earlier just to get an hour chatting with him before he goes to sleep. You show him all the pages you’ve marked in your mom’s old recipe book and tell him when he gets back you’ll make a couple and sell them for profit. You draw an official logo for Clean Mooters, and he suggests you add a restaurant as a side business that you two could run for extra profit. “Clean Mooters and Good Burgers,” he says, and then says, “No that’s terrible. I’ll keep thinking.”

“Are you the whole Clean Mooters marketing team?” you ask.

“Of course,” he says. “We both know all the business sense went to me.” And he smiles and you forget how to breathe.

You don’t talk about the kiss.

One time, he calls you, and your eyes swoop to check the time, because you know it’s crazy late where he is. You answer.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he says before you get a word out, and his voice is hoarse and it twists your stomach. “Can you-- just tell me about your new project?”

And you do; you’ve taken up crochet this week and your grandma gave you a couple pointers and you do your best calming ASMR voice as you repeat her pointers and what you plan to do to build your skill, and then end up going off on a tangent on whether Clean Mooters should have a gift shop selling cow merchandise (“It would make sense, there are a lot of cows around here.”) and when you pause to recollect your thoughts, all you hear is his quiet breathing.

The day Vernon’s set to return is a Thursday, which is perfect, because it gives him time to recollect himself before the Saturday bonfire, which will be the real welcome back party. On Thursday, you and the other kids on the block draw all over the street and then, when his flight is late and the sun goes down before he gets to the street, assemble to hold flashlights over the really good stuff. You only see his smile for a few brief seconds as the car goes past, but it’s enough to make your heart swell.

Friday you wake up to a knock on your bedroom door. “Hey, up and at ‘em, it’s noon!” Vernon calls through the door.

You groan and throw an arm over your face. “Says the guy who was still in bed at one pm that whole first week!”

“Yeah, and it was heaven. Come on, you get up fast enough and I’ll buy you a donut.”

You get dressed and meet him downstairs. “Try that again and I’ll convince my mom to rehide the spare key,” you threaten.

He just grins. “I’d be able to find it.” He picks up your bike helmet. “You want to get out of the neighborhood with me?”

You’d rob a bank if it was with him. “Absolutely.”

It’s a rush to be back on your bike, both of you pedaling faster and faster to try to be in front, weaving around the cars parked on the streetside and hopping the curb just to prove you can. Last week’s project was learning to ride a bike no handed and you show off the new skill as often as you can.

You go everywhere and nowhere. You hit up the mall and he buys you a donut and you wander the halls window shopping, and he buys a whole rainbow set of tinted glasses just because they looked cool; you break open the package the minute you own them and check out your reflection in the store window.

“We look ridiculous,” you say, adjusting the red pair so they sit better on your face.

“Speak for yourself,” Vernon says, turning to see himself from different angles. “I think purple’s exactly my color.”

You shove the blue pair on over the red, even though they barely fit on your nose, and stick your tongue out at him. “There, now we match.”

He puts on another pair of glasses and it turns into a competition of who can wear the most, and then into who can wear the most without getting a headache. That second winner was Vernon, but you won the first half.

You hit up the McDonalds in the food court and get the large cup for a dollar, and then go down the drink machine and hit it with just a quick blast of each, repeated over and over until the cup was full. It tastes like a mess of conflicting sugars and syrups. You drink the whole thing through separate straws. You can’t stop glancing at his lips. Your faces are so close.

You get ice cream and sit under the bridge over the creek to eat it, watching the sun go down somewhere downstream, listening to the cars whizzing past overhead.

“I missed you,” Vernon says.

“I missed you too,” you say, even though that doesn’t convey the half of it.

“During the school year--” He stops, and you glance over to see him staring into the sunset, his ice cream melting toward his fingers.

You take his free hand. “It’ll be hard, not being close for so long,” you say. “But-- we could do it. I’m not just going to stop talking to you because I have classes and-- you know how my sleep schedule gets during the year.”

He laughs, softly, lacing your fingers together. “I’ll be able to call and tell you to go to bed without you turning it on me.”

“Damn.” You scowl at your feet. “Didn’t think about that. You sure you can’t just go to Europe instead?”

“Nope,” he says. “You’re going to have to find a new defense.”

You sigh. “But Vernon that one’s worked since we were fourteen.”

“It never worked!”

“Yes it did because then it got you on the defensive instead!”

“But you still went to sleep when I hung up, didn’t you?”

Double damn. He’s right and you know he knows it, from the raised eyebrow look he’s giving you as he catches the ice cream that’s melting around the edges of his cone.

“. . . That’s entirely beside the point.”

He just grins. You bury your face in your ice cream cone, trying to devour the rest in a single bite to avoid the urge to pout. Of course, all that really does is get ice cream all over your face, but whatever. When you look back at him, he’s still looking at you, his eyes soft and fond and damn but you’re going to miss him like a lung when he’s gone.

“You’ve got a little something there,” he says, and you make a face at him to maybe hide how very obviously whipped you are and do your best to wipe it off with the pile of napkins you snatched.

“Better?”

“No, it’s still--” and he scoots in, and you both go really quiet as he wipes the ice cream from your cheek. His thumb traces your lip.

“You know,” you say, very softly, “if you wanted to kiss me you could’ve just asked.”

His eyes blink up to meet yours, and red tints his cheeks, but he still smiles. “Okay,” he says. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yeah.”

Your ice cream melts. (“It’s okay,” Vernon says, “I’ll buy you another.”)

#caratwritersclub #a tct summer #seventeen #hansol vernon chwe #seventeen au #vernon au #vernon #seventeen scenarios #vernon scenario #vernon imagines #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #vernon fluff

176 notes · View notes

sierraraeck · 4 years ago

Text

One More Night

Spencer x GN! Reader

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Summary: Spencer stays in town after the case to try and convince you to give him one more night, and one last chance, to change your mind before marrying another man. Part two.

Category: Fluff with some angst because apparently I can’t write anything without it.

Warnings: Cussing. Quick mention of normal CM stuff. Suggestive content.

Word Count: 7.7k

A/N: Inspired by the song “One More Night” by Maroon 5. If you wanna give that a quick listen, go for it, if not, that’s chill too. Also, I tried to make this gender neutral, but if I did not, please let me know what I need to correct.

What you had feared finally happened. The floodgates had opened. Not just opened, but blown apart, letting the roaring water take over, sweeping away everything in its path. Potentially including the nice life you’d just created for yourself.

And to Spencer’s credit, he was very persistent.

You walked away from that hotel room in a mess of tears. Telling the man you’d loved for years that you can’t be with him was an emotional load you were not ready, nor willing, to carry. It took you the entire car ride, the long way home, and two extra loops around your neighborhood before you felt calm enough to go inside and face Jordan.

Jordan.

The endearing, handsome, smart, loving, and appreciative man you were set to marry in just a couple weeks. And now you felt like a terrible person who didn’t deserve him because of this Spencer problem, and your sort of emotional cheating. Not to mention the kiss. Which you let happen. But you did pull away right? You did reality check the situation and you did walk away. That counted for something, right? You chose Jordan.

You pulled into the garage, and with one final deep breath, you walked into your small, but cozy, house. The smell hit your nose before anything else, and you knew before having to enter the kitchen that he was making his famous lasagna and homemade garlic bread. God, he spoiled you sometimes.

“Wow, would you smell that,” you said with an exaggerated breath in, dropping your bag and shoes at the door.

“Atrocious, isn’t it? Good thing I’ve gone noseblind by now,” he turned around as you approached the kitchen, giving you a sweet, welcome home kiss. “You didn’t eat, right? I knew you were going out with that old friend of yours, but I couldn’t remember if that was for food or just - hey, everything okay?”

You tried to hide the slight panic from your voice when replying, “Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

He shook his head, “Uh, I mean, your eyes just look a little puffy that’s all.”

“Oh, yeah. It was a bit of a rough day today,” you admitted.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did something happen with that friend of yours?” he questioned.

Yes. “No, not like that.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really. How was your day?” you asked. He launched into a story about how the new girl at work couldn’t seem to get anything right, and how he questioned if she even actually went to law school or not. You assured him that she’d get better with time. Everything gets better with time. Right?

You let him finish his cooking and the two of you sat down together for dinner, talking about work and friends and then he brought up wedding planning. Which you weren’t really in the mood or mindset for. And to make matters worse, he had to go and get all sweet on you.

“God, I can’t wait to get married. Sometimes I still wake up and can’t believe it’s real. I choose you, for the rest of my life, and I can’t wait until you officially choose me too. I hope you know that,” he said with a twinkle in his eyes.

He could always make you feel better, even when you didn’t feel you deserved it. “I do know that, and I love you, Jordan. So much.”

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

When you woke up, you felt much happier than you did the night before. Jordan was everything you wanted and more than you could hope for. Spencer was going back across the country to his job, and you were going back to yours.

Or at least, that was the plan.

When you arrived at work, you walked toward your office only to be frantically stopped by one of the interns who was currently under your supervision. “Uh, sorry to bother you, but there’s someone waiting for you in your office.”

“What? I didn’t forget a meeting did I?” you panicked.

“Oh, no, this is just some random guy. He told me he knew you and I couldn’t really stop him from coming in,” she said.

“O-okay. Thank you,” you said, and brushed by her, your curiosity driving you to your office even before you stopped for your morning coffee. You practically threw open the door and froze in your tracks.

That was not just some random guy waiting for you in your office.

“What are you doing here?”

Spencer looked up at you from the chair across your desk that usually seated clients or co-workers. “Sorry for showing up out of the blue. Can we talk? I brought coffee.”

He gave you a small smile and gestured toward the cup sitting on your desk. Can we talk? That’s always a good sign.

You snapped out of the frozen state you’d been in, shutting your office door and crossing the room to sit in your chair. You took a long sip of your coffee under Spencer’s watchful eye. “What can I help you with?” You did everything in your power not to sigh.

“No, nothing like that,” he said, breaking you out of your attorney-client attitude. “I just - I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, so you just looked at him, inviting him to continue. Luckily he did, breaking the silence, “I know that you have something with Jordan-”

“-we’re engaged, yes,” you corrected him. It wasn’t just ‘something.’ It was a serious commitment.

“Right. You and him are engaged, and I know that there isn’t much I can do or say, but I’m asking you to give me a chance.”

“A chance for what?” you questioned. You were confused, and tired of being so considering you thought you’d just passed the only bit of confusion you would experience.

“A chance to change your mind. To make sure that you are making the right decision,” he stated.

Your mouth was hanging open. Is he seriously asking me on a date right now? “Spencer, I am making the right decision. And are you asking me out?”

“I guess so. And if you are making the right decision with Jordan, then this should change nothing. If by the end of it, you feel nothing for me and you know that you want to be with Jordan for the rest of your life, then I did everything I can, and I know you are happy. But if that is not the case, and you still have feelings for me too, then…” he trailed off, followed by a sigh, “All I’m asking is that you give me one more night.”

“You are asking me to cheat on my fiance.”

“No, I am asking you to give me one more night, one more chance, to change your mind.”

He stared at you with intense eyes, searching yours for an answer. You sat there, trying to process everything that was happening, weighing your options. I can’t do this, right? It’ll basically be like going on a date when I’m about to get married. But he did say that if I’m confident in Jordan, which I am, this won’t change anything. And it won’t. If he needs this to know that he did everything he could, to give him some closure, what’s the harm? It won’t do anything except give him some piece of mind. I’ll do this for his benefit. And how bad could just one night be?

“Fine,” you said, and his lips immediately turned up, “I’ll be out of here by six, hopefully.”

“I’ll be waiting for you,” he said simply, getting up to head towards the door.

“You’re not going to tell me where we’re meeting?”

“No. It’s a surprise. I’ll pick you up from work?”

You let out another sigh, but tried to cover it with, “Alright.”

He shot you one last smile before exiting your office, and you couldn’t help but return it. But only a little bit.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

You were expecting yourself to dread the end of the day, knowing that whatever happened tonight wouldn’t end well, but in spite of yourself, you were actually looking forward to it. The day couldn’t go by fast enough actually, and you were out of the office the moment the clock hit six. You quickly sent Jordan a text explaining that you were very busy with work, and would have to stay late. You felt guilty lying to him. He deserved your honesty, but he also deserved your undivided love and attention, which you knew you couldn’t give him until this was put to rest. Telling him about some stupid little one-time ‘closure’ thing for an old flame before you got married was not what he needed to hear. So you slowly descended the stairs to the lobby, and reminded yourself: This is for Spencer’s benefit, it won’t change my mind, I’m only giving him one more night, and that’s it.

You reached the lobby and looked around for that fluffy head of hair you knew had to be there somewhere. Then you felt a small tap on your right shoulder, and turned in that direction. The moment you noticed no one was there, you knew what was going on. You rolled your eyes as you dramatically turned to your left and huffed, “I hate you.”

“Or so you claim,” Spencer said, beaming. He could always get you with that one, no matter how many times he did it to you. It was infuriating, but somewhat endearing to see his goofy smile every time you fell for it. “You never learn.”

“Yeah, because no other normal person does that to people on a regular basis,” you defended.

“(y/n), when have we ever been normal?” You raised your eyebrows. He had a point.

He ushered you out of the building and toward the parking lot. “Where are we going?”

“I told you. It’s a surprise,” he said, opening up the passenger side door for you.

“Spencer, you don’t have to-”

“I want to. Please, (y/n), let me do this for you.” With that, you got in the car, and surrendered your evening to the whim of Doctor Spencer Reid.

Now, you knew California pretty well. Grew up and lived there your entire life. Yet, somehow, wherever Spencer was taking you was in a direction that was unfamiliar, and what you could grasp at around you didn’t point to some destination spot that you would consider a ‘destination spot.’

Thirty minutes in, and the scenery looked as though you were headed to the woods, which didn’t make sense since that was not at all Spencer’s scene, and it made you realize you were probably inappropriately dressed in your work clothes. You gave Spencer a questioning side eye, and you saw him suppress a smirk. Only a couple minutes later, the trees cleared a bit, revealing a charming little town. And by little, you mean little. Like a total of ten or so establishments little.

Spencer moseyed on over to a white box of a building with a glistening sign reading “California’s Best Italian.” You gave Spencer yet another look when he parked the car, but he still didn’t offer you more than a small smile. As you both got out of the car, you rolled your eyes and skeptically asked, “California’s best Italian, huh?”

“Only the best for you,” he replied. He saw the seriousness in your eyes and assured, “It is vastly underrated, trust me.”

So you did just that, walking into the building with Spencer. The entire dining room, which was surprisingly bigger than you’d imagined from the outside, was empty. The hostess waiting at the front door smiled at the two of you, and led you to an already set table. It had all the classics: white table cloth, candle light, a few roses in the middle, two awaiting glasses of champagne. It was cliche as hell, but nevertheless stunning. As you sat down you realized that, while you’d been on amazing dates with Jordan and they were all adventurous and unconventional, that you’d never had the ‘out-of-the-movies’ dinner date experience.

You were impressed, to say the least, and whispered, “How’d you pull this off?”

“We may or may not have worked a case here a while back. They said we could cash in a favor any time we’d like for helping them. This was mine,” he sheepishly admitted. You did everything you could to not gape at him, but you're sure his trained eye could read you anyway.

“Spencer, seriously you didn’t have to-”

“I know. You keep saying that, but I wanted to,” he reminded you in the same way he did earlier that evening.

The same smiley hostess that met you at the door earlier returned with menus, and there was a twinkle in her eye that made you wonder just what Spencer had told them this was. Not like you’d ever ask. You weren’t even sure you wanted the answer.

You looked over the menu and ordered shrimp fettuccine while Spencer ordered a classic spaghetti.

“Still with the simple classics,” you tutted.

“You can never go wrong with them. Especially spaghetti,” he said, eyes getting wider. You had to let out a slight laugh at his childlike giddiness at something so trivial as spaghetti. But that was just Spencer. Sharing facts and getting happy over the little things. It was kinda refreshing to see, especially considering the dark nature of both of your jobs.

When dinner was served, it smelled amazing. You practically moaned at your first bite, and apologized for underestimating the small diner. You had to agree: they really did have the best Italian food in California.

Conversation with Spencer started a little rocky, the two of you getting reacquainted with each other before it started to flow like you’d never spent time apart. You related on the work front, and talked about friends and co-workers. You laughed about past and present things, and for a moment, you forgot there was a world outside this time-warped one that Spencer had created for the two of you. It was just so natural; you always knew it had been. Your quirks and his quirks complimented each other, and the way you’d both grown into older versions of your nerdy college selves but with somewhat better social skills was almost amusing. You were both entirely invested in your jobs, and you could see just how much he cared about everyone. The families he worked tirelessly for, and those he worked tirelessly with. And you. God, he cared about you so much, it had to have been squeezing his heart into oblivion.

When you both finished your meal and your champagne, Spencer stood up and offered you his hand. You took it, standing up, and gave him a questioning look. Dining and dashing was not in Spencer’s fortey, so without really knowing what to do, you reached for your credit card.

“Oh, no,” the waitress said with a grin, “This was on the house.”

“That’s very sweet, but really I can-” you started, waving your card around.

“No, seriously. Anything for Doctor Reid and his company,” she insisted, still grinning, now accompanied by an eyebrow raise. You returned her smile, trying to hide the slight confusion on your face. Now you really wanted to know what Spencer had told them this was.

“Come on,” Spencer whispered, ushering you out of the restaurant.

Once you exited, you asked, “You really must have saved their asses for them to treat you like that.”

“I may have down played just what happened to this town,” he admitted, “but it’s not that important. Unless you want to hear about it.”

“I could go for a brief synopsis,” you shrugged.

“About a year ago, this town had one of the worst serial killers we’ve ever seen. By the time we got here, there were already six bodies and counting. He moved fast and we found out that his real target was the owner of that restaurant. We saved them with only seconds to spare, and I was the one with the final shot. It’s a family business, so they were all very relieved and grateful we saved their family and their life’s work.” He said it so casually you gaped at him. You knew how modest he could be, but he really couldn’t see how heroic he sounded. He must’ve been uncomfortable by your staring, because he followed with, “What? What is it?”

“Just, you say that like it happens every day.”

“Well, it is my job, so it does kind of happen frequently,” he pointed out.

“Okay, yeah, but not for the everyday person. Those people see you as their knight in shining armor, Spencer. I think you should indulge yourself in that every now and then,” you advised.

“I am no one’s ‘knight and shining armor,’” he replied, shaking his head.

“Don’t be like that,” you scolded, and he looked at you with a serious face, “You catch the bad guy. You can’t get more heroic than that. Plus, you are keeping people from all over the country safe, not to mention keeping me employed.”

He offered a small laugh at that, and continued walking down the road past the car.

“What are you doing? The car’s right here,” you arched an eyebrow.

“I know,” he said with a cheeky smile.

“So we’re walking,” you phrased it more as a statement than a question. You only got a nod in response. “Seriously? You’re still not going to tell me where we’re going, are you?” He just shook his head as his smile grew. “I don’t know why I agreed to this,” you joked.

“Come on, you love surprises,” he said.

“Yeah, because usually I already have a good idea what’s going to happen,” you quipped.

He rolled his eyes. “Then maybe you should have been the profiler.”

You laughed, “Yeah, no. I’m good where I am, thanks. I’ll leave the whole guns, shooting criminals, flying across the country at 2am thing to you.”

“I feel very certain you have your fair share of 2am work nights.”

“Oh I do. I’m just at home sipping coffee in my sweats, not in work clothes on a plane to the middle of nowhere,” you acknowledged, and he put his hands up as to say ‘touche.’ “But hey, the next time I’m up at 2am, I’ll be sure to take comfort in the fact that at least someone else is too, probably going over files just like me.”

“Yeah, that, and that you have better coffee than us,” he said, as you stepped off the main road and in the direction of the trees. You didn’t take Spencer for an ‘outdoorsy’ kinda guy either, in fact, you knew he wasn’t unless things had drastically changed in six years, but you kept your mouth shut. Mainly because you were outdoorsy, and you knew he was trying to make things fun for you. Once you got to a certain point, Spencer stopped and turned to face you. “Close your eyes.” You opened your mouth to protest the ‘surprise’ thing again, but he cut you off before you had the chance. “Trust me, okay?”

Without another word, you closed your eyes with a sigh. He led you slowly through the trees, fingers laced through yours, narrating the landscape to make sure you wouldn’t trip or lose your footing.

“Almost there,” he said, taking a few more paces forward before coming to a complete stop. “Okay, you can open your eyes now.”

When you did, you were blinded by the beauty before you. There was a half circle of rock surrounding you with a waterfall coming from the opposite side. It hit the sugar-white sand below it, trailing into the small aqua pond, which opened up to the beach from between rocks and palm trees. On top of that, there was a warm sunset turing the wispy clouds shades of reds, oranges, and yellows. It was straight out of a movie, or a dream, and you honestly couldn’t believe it was real.

“What do you think?” Spencer asked in a small voice from beside you, and you realized you hadn’t done anything except gasp since you saw it.

“Spence, this is - this is incredible. You really outdid yourself,” you said, and he had. It was breathtaking. “How’d you find this place?”

“It’s a small town secret, I guess. We found it when we were here.”

“Oh, please don’t tell me you found a body here or something,” you grimaced.

“No! Definitely not!” Spencer clarified, “I just remembered you always mentioning wanting to go to a nice, small, secluded beach. This isn’t exactly a beach, but it is very close to one and definitely secluded.” You relaxed even more with that information, and Spencer led you over to the edge of the water, hand still enveloped in yours.

Don’t get carried away. Remember, this is just for his benefit. You released his hand, giving him a small smile, and walked over to the waterfall. He followed, and looked up at it with the same awed look you did. “You know, to qualify as a waterfall, only one segment of the falls must be at least five feet high. Most generally accepted waterfalls must be located on a river, creek, or stream that provides a source of water at least annually. This one is on the shorter side of average height at about 25 feet, and comes off of a stream from above. The largest waterfall in the world is Angel Falls with a total height of 3,212 feet, but plunge falls are known to have taller average heights. This one here is a punchbowl waterfall, because it descends into a constricted form, and then spreads out in a wider pool. Usually-” he suddenly cut himself off, looking down. “Uh, sorry.”

You snapped your eyes over to him, “Have you forgotten who you are talking to?”

“What?”

You repeated yourself, enunciating each word carefully, “Have you forgotten who you are talking to?” Spencer looked up at you, but with no answer. “We initially connected because you could answer every single question I had for you, no matter the subject, whether I needed help with it or not. We finally got to the point where I didn’t even have to ask anymore, because all you had to do was look at my face and know that I needed answers, answers you always had. There’s no need to apologize. You know I enjoy your facts,” you emphasized.

He smiled at you and rambled on about his waterfall facts, finishing with, “... and today, many people enjoy going swimming near or around waterfalls. Especially the punchbowl kind.”

You raised your eyebrows, “Is that an invitation Spencer Reid?”

“It could be if you wanted it to be,” he agreed sheepishly.

“Well, then what are we waiting for,” you teased. You marched over to a dry, flat rock and stripped off your work clothes, only keeping your underwear on. You then waded out into the water, all the while Spencer just watching you, seemingly paralyzed. You encouraged, “Spence, get out here!”

He started to make a move in the same direction you’d left your stuff, saying, “Yeah, yeah. I’m coming.” He tried to add some enthusiasm to his voice, but you knew he really wasn’t a fan of the water. Or the sand for that matter. Or interacting with nature as much as swimming required. But nevertheless, he discarded his clothes and padded toward the little ‘punchbowl’ as he just educated you on.

And then a thought popped into your head, “Spencer, have you ever been to the beach before? Like, have you gone swimming at the beach?”

His eyes snapped to yours, and he shook his head just a little. “It just usually seems … unsanitary. You know, the average number of people who visit the beach each year is around 58.67 million.”

“Yes, I’m sure, but unfortunately you are not one of them. Yet. Look, I know you kinda hate the water and the beach and stuff, but don’t worry, I am here to help,” you assured. You wadded toward him where the water was only about shin-high and held out your hand. “Do you remember a long time ago when you first told me you’d never been to the beach?”

He nodded. “It was close to one of the first things you asked me.”

“It was. And you told me you hadn’t. And do you remember what I told you?”

“You said, ‘I am determined to be the first person you go to the beach with. I promise I will make your beach-going experience great, and I have a strong feeling you will start to enjoy it.’”

“Exactly. So, are you ready?” you asked.

“For what?” Instead of answering, you slowly coaxed him further into the water. He shivered a bit as the cool water surrounded his hips.

“Don’t worry. You’re body will adjust,” you smiled, even though he probably already had plenty of stats on that, too. He paused for just a second as you got deeper into the water, which caused you to turn and face him completely. He heaved a breath, but then continued, you taking both of his hands in yours, walking backward farther into the water until it was up to your neck. The water pooled around Spencer's shoulders, and you said contently, “See? It’s not too bad, is it?”

“I guess not. Not when you’re here to help me,” he smiled.

You tried to shake off the feelings coursing through your veins, composed yourself, and replied, “Good.” Then, without warning, you dove out into the middle of the water. When you came to the surface, you shook your hair out and had to laugh at the way Spencer was staring at you.

You didn’t even have to prompt him in order for him to understand the playful look in your eyes. “No.”

“Yes.”

“No. I am not that person.��

You smirked at him, “You are now, Mathlete.”

He rolled his eyes at your old nickname for him, but he pushed farther out into the water. He came all the way out to you, at least somewhat knowing how to tread water, when you brought your wet hands up to his hair. With little droplets of water running down the side of his neck and jaw and your hands still in his hair, he went completely under water. Once he was under, his hands were at your thighs, and a whole new set of feelings clouded into your head. When he came back up, he was only inches from your face, your hands behind his head and his on your back. And then your lips were on each other’s, moving with a mind of their own. He pulled you closer and you clung to him like he was the only thing preventing you from drowning. His tongue slid into your mouth, moving in expert ways only he could remember how to do after this long. You started to wrap your legs around his middle, when you realized you’d probably sink together out in the middle of the pool, thanks to you swimming all the way out there. You finally parted with a big intake of breath, separating slightly so you could both stay afloat.

Before he could say anything, you flipped some water up into his face. He shut his eyes with little amusement, and his pout made him look even cuter. When he opened them, the orange sun near setting reflected into his eyes, making them glow a brilliant gold. He was stunning. Everything about this was stunning.

“What was that for?” he asked, and you snapped out your trance-like state to remember that you’d splashed him with water.

You did it again with a chuckle for an answer. Then he caught on. He pushed water in your direction, and you back to him. You were both shoving water at each other and laughing at your full on water fight, and then you got out and started running from the waterfall and toward the beach only a few yards away. He came after you and grabbed you from behind. You’re not sure how it happened, but you both ended up on the white sand with a shriek. You laid there with your back against his chest, eyes stinging from the salt water and breathing deeply. You both had sand all over you, but you didn’t want to move. And clearly, neither did he, because you both laid there until the sun went down.

Goosebumps rose along your body as Spencer trailed his hands down your arms and side and back again.

“We should get dried off,” he whispered in your ear.

You nodded, “Yeah, it’s getting cold. But we don’t have any towels.”

“They’re in the car.” You smiled to yourself and got up off the beach, trailing Spencer back to the car, clothes in hand.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

On the car ride back to the city, you told Spencer all the other cool beach things you would have wanted to introduce him to, like reading in the sun, drinking and eating under a cabana, and getting these mangos on a stick you could only seem to find in Mexico.

He grinned at you the whole way.

He parked the car outside of his hotel, and offered to let you shower off before leaving. You couldn’t really go home to Jordan with a bunch of sand on you, so you accepted. You got in first and he got in after.

By the time he was done, you were fully dried with your clothes back on. He came out with only a towel wrapped around him. You guessed he really was trying everything to keep you here. The tension was palpable and you didn’t really know what to say to him.

Thanks for the amazing date, I had so much fun, okay bye? You were great and you are making it so hard to walk away right now but I’m going to, thanks anyways? You couldn’t say any of those, but luckily, he stepped in for you.

“I know,” he said with a nod.

“Spencer, I-”

“I know,” he repeated. His eyes were sad and his shoulders were slumped in defeat. It pained you to see him like this, especially after everything he’d done for you that evening, and how happy he’d been the whole time. “It’s okay, I get it. Jordan.”

Jordan. “Yeah,” it was barely a whisper. You walked toward the door and reached for the handle. And then you froze. You just froze in place, not being able to go any further.

Then, without thinking, you turned around and pulled him towards you, pressing your lips to his. He seemed thrown by this, but only for a few moments, because he quickly melted into the kiss. You didn’t let it last long, pulling away without another look at him. He grabbed your hand and spun you around, giving you no choice but to raise your eyes to meet his. They looked a little red and a single tear ran down his cheek.

“Please. Don’t leave me, not again,” he begged. You were in agony even thinking about leaving him like this, but what else were you supposed to do? “Please don’t go (y/n).”

You didn’t know how to say no when he was at his lowest point and you were at your weakest. That’s not true. You did know how to say no, but not to him. You couldn’t. You didn’t want to. “I won’t.”

It was already too late by the time you realized you had fallen back in love with him.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

You woke up on Spencer’s chest, sheets a tangled mess around you. The daylight hit your eyes through the crack in the hotel curtains, and you realized what you’d just done.

I slept with another man. A man that is not my fiance, a man that I am not going to marry in a couple weeks. What have I done? What was I thinking?

But that’s the issue. You weren’t thinking. Being with Spencer didn’t require any thinking or effort or worry. It was easy. Yet nothing about waking up that morning with the guilt you felt was easy. You couldn’t stay there with Spencer for another moment knowing that you had to be the worst person on the planet at the moment. You threw your clothes on, trying to control your panicked breathing, swiping at the moisture collecting on your cheeks.

What was I thinking?

You scrambled to the door, making sure you had all of your belongings, and left. You made your way down the corridor to the sign that said ‘stairs’ across from a little sitting area near a large window.

You had barely gotten the door open when a voice called out, “Where are you going?”

You turned and saw Spencer frantically coming towards you. The noise you made in your rush to leave must have woken him up. “One more night, right? That was the deal,” you stated coldly.

“That's not really all this was to you, was it?” he asked, his eyes looked at you with a mix of emotions you could only guess to be betrayal and hurt.

But you stood your ground, “This is wrong.”

He started shaking his head, “No-”

“I have to go,” you insisted, turning back to the door.

“It’s not wrong (y/n). You can’t look me in the eyes and tell me that what we have doesn’t feel right to you,” he pressed. There was an urgency in his voice you’d never really heard before.

“Jordan’s probably waiting for me.”

“Is he?”

How dare he question my fiance he knows nothing about! “Yes,” you spat, “because he’s an amazing man that I am going to marry, so I’m sorry, but I can’t do this.”

“That’s not really what you’re thinking is it,” he hissed back, stating it more than asking. You stood there staring at him, not giving him an answer. You knew you couldn’t lie to him. Profiler or not, he always knew what you were thinking. He continued, “Actually, I don’t even think you think this is wrong.”

“Yes I do. It’s not fair-” you tried.

“Who’re you trying to convince?” Spencer cut you off.

You laced your voice with venom when you responded, “Don’t presume to know me or what I think.”

“Oh I’m not. You’re telling me that all by yourself,” he said as he quickly scanned you up and down.

“Don’t profile me.”

“I wasn’t trying to. I was merely trying to point out how, while even though you are trying to leave, you are oriented toward me. Your feet are still pointed towards me, along with your shoulders. If you really wanted to leave, you’d be facing the door. Your head is tilted slightly, you’re leaning forward, and despite your irritation, you aren’t fidgety. You’ve subconsciously mirrored some of my movements, fixed your hair, adjusted the sleeves on your shirt, and wetted your lips. Not to mention the dilation of your eyes-”

You couldn’t take it anymore, “Why, why are you pushing this?” It sounded more like a plea than anything.

His eyes softened along with his voice, “Because I want you. I want to be with you, and I can’t let you slip through my fingers like last time. I am not going to make the same mistakes and I am not going to let my insecurities and uncertainties get in the way of us again.”

“Us?” your eyes bugging, “Spencer, there is no us.”

“How can you say that?” his voice seemed to raise an entire octave.

“Because there can’t be. I’m getting married in just over a week and I haven’t seen you in years, and then all the sudden you wanna give us another try? It didn’t work out the first time, what makes you think it will the second time?” you pressed.

“What makes you think it won't?”

“Don’t turn this on me.” You didn’t want him to avoid the question. It was a valid one, and one you’d always thought about when you heard of other on-and-off couples.

“We dated for about six years and never had any problems until I fucked it up. Had I stayed in contact, we’d probably still be together right now. Your turn,” he challenged, with fire in his eyes.

Fine. We can do it like this. “For starters, we are both stubborn and like to argue. We’ve seen and spent time together for a total of one day and two nights and we’ve already argued twice. Not to mention, we both have super time consuming jobs-”

“Which both you and Jordan do,” he interjected.

“-and we’ve both changed. We don’t know if we’re compatible anymore. Yes, we dated for six years, but then we spent six years apart. You can’t ask me to throw away a sure thing for a relationship I lost hope in a long time ago.”

“I can, and I am.” He said it with such confidence, it almost threw you off. Almost.

“It’s too late.”

“It’s not, please, don’t go. Don’t make the same mistake I did. Don’t let your insecurities and uncertainties about us get in the way of what we have,” he faltered.

“And what is it we have exactly?” It was his turn to be silent, so you filled in for him. “With Jordan, I have no doubts. There is nothing complicated about him or what he and I have.”

“But do you love him like you loved me? Does he make you laugh after a long day at work? Does he go dancing with you even though he’s bad at it because he knows you love it? Does he know when to just sit there and hold you and when to encourage you to vent? Does he know that you are a morning person and love watching the sun rise even though you refuse to talk to anyone when you’ve just woken up? Does he burn the pancakes in the morning so that you can laugh and show him how it’s done? Does he know that after a bad day you like to eat breakfast for dinner because it’s your comfort food? And even though you’d never admit it, you secretly love those fake colored orchids? Does he make sure you rest when you overwork yourself so you don’t get a migraine? Does he know that you aren’t ticklish anywhere except on your left side? And can you tell him any and everything? Does he know that the only thing you hate more than stress is injustice? Can he make you feel as comfortable and stress free as I do? Can he give you that? Because I can, I know I can.”

“Spencer, stop.” You crossed your arms, desperate for him to relieve you from the guilt you already felt. How could you walk away from him? But how could you not?

But he wouldn’t stop, “I have. And I’m asking for another chance to give you that again, to show you that I will for as long as you let me.”

You offered one simple word in response, “Love.”

“What?” the confusion was obvious on his face.

“You said ‘like you loved me’. Love, Spencer. It’s not past tense,” you corrected.

That stopped him dead in his tracks, “What’re you saying?”

You took a deep breath, “I’m saying that you have given me a lot to think about, and that I need time. I know I don’t have much, but I need tonight, at least tonight. Can you give me that?”

“Yes,” he said, with no hesitation, “Of course.” You nodded, and turned back toward the staircase door as Spencer retreated, but he caught your attention one last time before you were out of earshot. “Oh, and (y/n)?”

“Yeah?” you said, peering over your shoulder.

“I love you too.”

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

You spent that night and the entire day following away from everyone. Jordan texted you to make sure you were okay, making a joke about getting cold feet. Which was not funny. You told him that you’d been slammed at work and were crashing at a co-worker, and close friend's apartment, which happened often. You two were looking over a case together, which was true, but in reality, you were sulking and they were very invested in your love life.

“‘But do you love him like you loved me?’ That’s very forward of him,” Ash spoke, taking a sip of their tea.

“You don’t need to tell me that,” you reminded them.

“But like, you said you love him,” Ash beamed. “Then again, you have Jordan to think about, too.”

“Okay, first, I’m concerned that you are taking so much pleasure in my very complicated love life-”

“If by complicated you mean having two great guys pining over you, then sure. Extremely unfortunate,” Ash deadpanned.

You continued as if they hadn’t spoke, “-secondly, I didn’t exactly say I love you-”

“Still counts.”

“-and third, what am I supposed to do? I have a ring on my finger and I just slept with another man.”

“Another man that was your first love that you also said ‘I love you’ to,” Ash again pointed out.

“Please stop reminding me,” you groaned.

“And why shouldn’t I?”

“Because I am freaking out and don’t know what to do! I can’t pretend like what happened with Spencer never happened, but I don’t think I can face Jordan, or tell him what happened, let alone marry him after all of this,” you exclaimed, voice raising.

“Okay, I know this is stressful, but I need you to sit down, and calm down,” Ash sterly said, dropping all amusement from their voice. You hadn’t even realized you’d stood up. You eased yourself back onto the couch, and looked over at them.

You took a deep breath, “You’re right. Freaking out is not going to help me. Not like I know what actually will.”

“Well let me ask you this,” Ash said, sitting upright, “Was he right?”

“What?”

“Was Spencer right? Does he give you things Jordan can’t? Does he make you feel more ‘at peace’ or however the hell he phrased it?” You opened your mouth to answer, but they cut you off right as you were about to speak, “And don’t lie. This is me trying to help you through your feelings, and telling me what you think is socially acceptable to say is not going to help anyone. Especially not you.”

“In a sense,” you relented.

“Okay, I guess I wasn’t clear. These are yes or no questions,” they clarified.

“How can they be? Relationships are not black and white, there is so much more to them!” you huffed.

“That’s true. But what is black and white is who you love more.” You started shaking your head profusely in denial. “I’m serious (y/n). You know you love one more than you love the other. You know who you feel more comfortable and more safe around. You know who you feel like you can trust with anything without being judged. And most importantly, you know who you feel the most like yourself around, and who makes you feel like the best and brightest version of yourself. You just aren’t ready to admit that, because either way, you’re hurt and they’re hurt. But don’t lie to yourself. You know,” Ash insisted.

“Ash, I can’t,” you whispered.

“You can, you will, and you have to. Just remember it’s not fair to either of them for you to string them along. It’s better to tell them. You have to just go for it,” they urged.

You groaned. “What do I even say? How am I supposed to do this?”

“Well, you are going to pull on your grown ass adult undies, and figure it out,” Ash spoke to you like you were a child, “Now get the fuck outta my place, you’ve been here far too long and have overstayed your welcome. And don’t you dare lie to them either because you think it’s the right thing to do. For once in your goddamn life (y/l/n), do the right thing for you.” And with that, they shoved you out of their apartment with your things, and locked the door in your face.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

You got in your car and threw your things in the back. You sat there for a moment before screaming at the top of your lungs. You pounded on and shook the steering wheel, until you’d run out of breath.

Being in love with two men who loved you back at the exact same time was nothing like it was portrayed in the movies. It absolutely sucked. You couldn’t see how there was any possible way that the people in those movies ended up with a happy, fairy-tale ending, because all you could see right now was broken hearts. You were going to be hurting either way, but the real question was which way you were going to hurt the least.

Which is the exact thought on your mind as you pulled your car out of the apartment complex parking lot, and started driving.

For once in your goddamn life, do the right thing for you.

You were already halfway to your destination before you’d consciously made the decision to go there. You pulled up and parked your car outside. You walked up the stairs to the door and then stopped. Knocking on this door meant committing to a decision that would alter the rest of your life. You bit back the tears threatening to overflow, sure that you had made the right decision, even though it physically pained you to hurt him. You took a deep breath, put a smile on your face, and knocked.

The door swung open as if he’d been expecting you. You quickly embraced him, taking in his scent and basking in the comfort of his arms. Pulling away, you looked into those twinkling eyes staring back at you with adoration, which only confirmed that you’d made the right decision.

With a pounding heart and a weight lifted off your shoulders, you confessed, “I choose you.”

Payphone

A/N 2: To the lovely anon that encouraged me to do a part 2, I hope this lived up to your expectations. I know I didn’t completely clear everything up, but I hope you enjoyed it regardless. =D

#spencer reid fanfic #spencer x reader #spencer x y/n #criminal minds fanfic #gn reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #cm #criminal minds fandom #dr spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid #reid #dr reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst

101 notes · View notes

enamoured-x · 4 years ago

Note

Can I pretty please get smut prompts 1,9,14,18,19,44,62,64,102, 106,107 with Angel? I know I'm bad! 🥰😏🤤

oh my god. This got way ahead of me. I couldn’t fit in three of the prompts because I didn’t see how I could use them for what I wrote. If you’d like just shoot me another ask for them! Enjoy! (gif not mine)

Warnings: NSFW

Angel was relentless when he first met you. You were not sucked in by his charming smile and smooth words. Which only made him work harder. You had first met Angel through your uncle, Taza. You had just moved back to Santo padre wanting to be closer to your parents again. You had never met the club before but you and your uncle were always close so when you moved back he was keen to introduce you to them. Everyone was very welcoming and you started to frequent the clubhouse often. You quickly became friends with everyone but Angel was not interested in being just your friend.

“What did you bring me today, mami?” Angel asked as you walked into the club house with a few bags.

“I brought everyone some lasagna and cake.” You explained as you set the bags down and took out the plastic containers. You loved to cook and bake so you were always bringing your food to the clubhouse so they could try. Everyone quickly flocked over to you and you handed them containers.

“Sounds delicious. But I think I’m in the mood for something else.” Angel whispered to you as he got closer. The guys were too occupied with their food now to notice. You would be lying if you said you weren’t attracted to him. Because you were, but you knew guys like him and you had no interest in being a quick fuck. Especially when you admired the club so much, you didn’t want anything to ruin your friendship with the men.

“You’re not taking me to bed. Ever.” You told him as you made yourself busy with cutting the cake.

“Who said it had to be on the bed?” He slid his knuckles down your arm slowly. You hated yourself for the shiver that went down your spine. You leaned away from him not wanting anyone to see what he was doing. Angel was discreet about his advances. Of course, Coco, Ez, and Gilly knew but the older men of the club had no idea. And you were glad for it. Taza would probably lecture you all day and then kill Angel for even attempting to flirt with you.

“Are you ever going to stop?” You asked as you finally met his stare. He smirked.

“I think you know the answer to that. Besides, I don’t think you want me to stop.” You bit your lip and couldn’t help but check him out. There was truth to his words, you knew if you really wanted him to stop you’d actually be clear about it instead of just answering his flirtations with eye rolls or laughter.

You met his eyes again but there was no amusement anymore. He looked ready to pounce on you and you couldn’t lie and say it didn’t make you interested.

“Did you just look me up and down and then bite your lip? ‘Cause if you did we’re having sex. Right now.” His words made your cheeks flush. You cleared your throat and looked around to still see everyone stuffing their faces and talking amongst each other.

“Angel.” You scolded him. He was getting bolder with his comments and when and where he was saying them. He was also getting more handsy with you, like the other day at the pool.

Your apartment complex had a pool and when Angel had asked you to hang out you explained to him you were having a pool day and left it at that. You should’ve known he’d come breaking down your door to join you. So you two lounged about at the pool. There were a few stragglers but after a while they left and it was just you and Angel. You could feel his eyes on you the second you took off your clothes and revealed your bathing suit.

“You joining me?” You had asked him as you slipped into the pool. He was quick to take off his tank top. You tried not to focus on his chiseled chest. He swam over to you and before you knew what was happening he pulled you into him. You knew it was stupid of you to let Angel touch you and let him get away with his advances, but you hated that you actually liked it. So you would let him when no one was around. It was a dangerous game you were playing but you were convinced it was harmless.

“You look so fucking sexy, mami.” He said as he stared into your eyes.

“Angel…” You warned him.

“I could just pull your bikini bottoms to the side. No one will notice.” Fuck, this game was not harmless. You were kidding yourself. He pushed his face into your neck, his lips skimmed over your bare skin but he made no movement to continue.

“Jesus, Angel. You’re insufferable.” You had the self control to push him away and he laughed.

“Just waiting for you to give in.”

“Not happening.”

“We’ll see.”

You both knew you were close to giving in. He knew you wanted him as badly as he wanted you. But you were hung up on how Taza would react to it. And he couldn’t blame you but he was ready to just say fuck it.

Eventually you did give in though.

You were at Angel’s apartment, making food as he watched. As much as you two flirted, you and him were close friends at this point. You were always at his place or him at yours. Which just made it all the more obvious that you were going to just give in because at this point, you were basically dating. Just without the benefits. And damn, did you want the benefits.

“Do you ever get tired of staring?” You asked as you stirred the pasta.

“Not when the view is this good.” He looked you up and down and you laughed.

“You have no shame, do you?”

“Nah, not when it comes to you.” He smirked and walked over to you. He had a smooth answer for everything it was annoying. You continued to stir the pasta as he placed his hands on your waist.

“I don’t know what you’re so afraid of because at this point, you’re mine.” You swallowed at his words. You wanted to counter that he did not have any claim over you but you couldn’t. You couldn’t because you liked the idea. And it reaffirmed that you weren’t the only one who thought you were both spending too much time together to not be anything more than friends.

You hoped this wasn’t a mistake as you turned off the stove and turned around to face him.

“Pasta done?” He asked with a knowing smirk.

“Not even close.” Your words were invitation enough as he pulled you into him.

“This is why I don’t give up.”

“Just shut up and kiss me, Angel.” He needed no further encouragement as his lips finally met yours. It was like a dam broke loose in you and you ran your fingers through his hair trying to get closer. You were both a mix of tongue and teeth clashing. Such anticipation and it was finally happening. His hands slid from your waist to your ass as he squeezed hard and he grounded into you.

You let out a moan on his lips and he pulled away.

“I think thats the first time I’ve heard you moan…it was like a fucking melody.” He said and then quickly pressed his lips on yours once again. You kept your lips connected as you started pushing him backwards. Knowing what you wanted, he easily lifted you up and turned around to carry you out of the kitchen and to his bedroom. His lips never left yours. You couldn’t get enough of him and were kicking yourself for not doing this sooner. When he finally made it to his room, he sat down on the bed and pulled away much to your dismay.

“Take off your clothes.” His tone let you know he was serious now and fuck, you liked it.

You untangled yourself from him and wasted no time dropping your shorts and taking off your shirt.

“Fuck.” He mumbled. You smirked as you unclipped your bra and let it fall off your shoulders and to the floor. His eyes got darker.

“Wanna help me?” You asked as you stepped closer to him. He quickly yanked your panties down and his fingers dug into the flesh of your ass.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, fuck…” He muttered as he placed a soft kiss to your stomach. The delicate touch had you breaking out into goosebumps as his lips skimmed up your stomach and between your breasts.

“I could drown in you.” Is all he said before he flipped you onto the bed. Jesus, you knew he had a way with words but he was a different animal tonight.

“Are you sure? Once I start I might not be able to stop.” He said as his fingers circled your belly button. Despite your nakedness, he was still willing to stop everything if you suddenly changed your mind.

“Yes, please, Angel.” He brought you into another bruising kiss and pulled back as he stripped. You enjoyed the free show as you tried to touch yourself.

“Fuck, no.” Angel swatted your hand away just as he finished undressing. “My fingers only.” He said. You bit your lip as you could finally see him in all his glory. And damn, you hoped you weren’t drooling. Angel was fucking beautiful and you now understood why he had such a big fucking ego. He could definitely back it up.

“Like what you see, mami?”

“I would like it more if you were inside me already.” Angel swore under his breath and climbed on top of you. His left hand held him up and his right hand trailed down your body and his fingers met your core. You arched into his touch and let out a whimper. He let out a soft laugh onto your collarbone. His fingers found your clit and that’s when you grabbed onto his shoulders. He lazily stroked you until you were panting.

“Angel, please!” You were not above begging. Not right now, not after waiting for so long, and especially not with him.

“Be patient.” He said as he trailed kisses down your neck and towards your breasts. His beard tickling your skin. When he got to a nipple he licked first and then took the nub into his mouth. You tangled your hands in his hair as you let out a moan. He sucked and nibbled your nipples as he worked you over with his fingers stroking your wet core.

“Oh god, Angel. I need you to fuck me now, please.” You pleaded as you felt the need for him consume you.

“You think you’re ready for me?” He asked and you answered him by snaking your hand down and taking a hold of his member.

“Shit…” He grunted as you stroked him. He was fucking huge and you needed him so bad.

“I got you.” He said as he pulled your legs further apart to accommodate himself and then he was lining himself up. He pulled you in for a kiss as he slid all the way in, bottoming out. You whined onto his lips as you felt the burn of the stretch. It was so fucking intoxicating though. The slight pain and pressure. It was heaven.

“You good?” He asked as he pulled away and moved some of your hair behind your hair.

“Perfect.” Is all you said as you pulled him in for another kiss and bucked up into him to get him to start moving. He answered with a groan and gave you what you wanted. His thrusts were slow but deep at first and then he started to speed up. As he pounded into you, you bit your lip to stop from crying out. Only letting out whimpers and don’t stop and fuck. The pleasure was all consuming.

“I know for a fact you can be a hell of a lot louder than that.” He said as he took a nipple into his mouth and bit down, not relenting in his pace. You let out your cry this time and it seemed to spur Angel on.

“That’s right, baby. Let it all out.” He said against your skin. His fingers met your core once more and you felt yourself nearing the edge.

“Fuck, Angel. I’m gonna cum.” You moaned as you clawed at his back and pulled him in tighter with your legs around his waist.

“You gonna cum for me? Gonna cum on my cock?” His words were only pushing you closer.

“Yes, baby. Please let me cum.” You knew that did something for him. Asking for permission to cum. That was the end for him.

“Fuck! Come, baby. Come.” Is all he needed to say as you cried out and let go. Your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave and you felt Angel lose himself too and let go inside of you. He thrusted into you slowly as you both came down from your highs. Once you felt the effects of your climax start to fade, he pulled out of you.

“That was better than I could have ever imagined it being.” He said as he pulled you into him. You threw a leg over him and trailed your fingers across his chest.

“You imagined it a lot?” You asked and he threw the blankets over you both.

“Every damn day.” You snorted at that.

“I knew you couldn’t resist me.” He added and you slap his chest.

“Do not make me regret this.” You groaned. But you were only teasing. You were not regretting it in the slightest.

“You’re in trouble now. I’m like a drug that you ain’t gonna be able to quit, baby.”

“Oh my god, how are you this fucking cocky?” It truly amazed you. He laughed and tilted your chin up to look at him. He pressed a kiss on your lips and rolled his hips up as he grabbed your thigh that was around him.

“You know how.” Is all he said as he once again turned you over to hover above you.

“You’re ready for round two so soon?” You asked but you were not objecting.

“Always ready for you, baby. I’m just getting started.”

He kept you up all night, the only time you broke away was to find some snacks and then you were right back at it. And when morning came, well let’s just say you didn’t leave the bed till late afternoon.

#angel reyes x you #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes #mayans mc

367 notes · View notes