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parkerslatte · 3 years ago

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Fun & Games [Chapter Two]

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Series Summary: After getting up close and personal on a case, neither Y/N nor Spencer can get enough of one another.

Part Summary: It's a paperwork day and Y/N and Spencer can't help but let their longing gazes continue throughout the day.

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: light smut. This series and 18+ series MINORS DNI

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Fun & Games Masterlist

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***

CHAPTER TWO: JUST FRIENDS

The very next day at work, Y/N was surprised to find herself there before the majority of people. The only ones in work were Hotch and Rossi and both were already in their respective offices already tackling their paperwork for the day. Looking at the stack of work on her desk, Y/N sighed and headed to the kitchen to make herself a cup of coffee. As she stood there in silence, she suddenly regretted not getting one before work started. However, in her defence, she was distracted.

Ever since the incident between her and Spencer happened while they were undercover at the restaurant the day previous, Y/N hadn’t been able to get her mind off it. The feeling of his body pressed tightly against hers and his hands roaming her body. When their lips connected for the first time and Spencer flipped their positions so her back was against the wall. All of these thoughts gave her butterflies in her stomach. Butterflies that Y/N didn’t want.

It was one way to think of a co-worker in a romantic setting but a friend - let alone a best friend. Y/N didn’t want to be having these thoughts, especially not when her desk was located diagonally across from hers. Their kiss was nothing but professional in a professional setting.

As soon as Y/N finished making her coffee and headed back to her desk, the bullpen had already begun to fill up. Derek was sitting at his desk as was Emily and JJ. Y/N gave them all a smile as a greeting before sitting down at her own desk. Without meaning to, Y/N’s gaze shifted over to Spencer’s desk and found it vacant; there was no sign of the resident genius. With a small shrug of her shoulders, Y/N got to the pile of work she had to get through that day.

Not even five minutes into her work, Y/N was already interrupted by Spencer tumbling into the bullpen. Of course, there was a small look of shock on everyone’s faces at Spencer’s late arrival as he is mostly always early to work but that wasn’t all they were shocked at. His hair was a mess and stuck up in several different places. The first few buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned and his tie was undone - not a typical Spencer Reid look.

“Sorry I was late, my alarm didn’t go off.” Spencer mumbled as he tried his best to flatten his hair and sort out his appearance as he made his way to his desk.

Y/N couldn’t help but let her eyes wander over him. As soon as she realised what she was doing, she gently shook her head of any thoughts before returning to the pile of work on her desk. Despite her only thinking about Spencer moments ago, Y/N easily slipped back into the routine of her work without much hassle. All she wanted to do was get through her work as quickly as possible and head home to yet again her empty apartment and watch television all night.

For at least forty minutes, Y/N had been in a perfect routine and nothing had distracted her. If she were lucky she would be able to go home early. It wasn’t until she reached to the side to take a sip of her coffee that her routine had been interrupted. Her mug was empty, disrupting the flow of her work. Sighing, Y/N leaned back in her chair, she wanted to get a new cup of coffee but she didn’t want to stand up and walk over to the kitchen area to make one. It wasn’t lazy, it just wasn’t efficient.

As her eyes scanned around the bullpen, everyone was engrossed in their work - just like Y/N has been until she was interrupted by her empty mug. Her eyes scanned over Derek’s desk, then Emily’s, then JJ’s and then finally Spencer’s. However Spencer wasn’t hunched over doing his work like everyone else, he was staring directly at her. Their eyes made contact and Y/N couldn’t help but feel everything else melt away.

Ever since Y/N had known Spencer, she always knew that he had nice eyes but it wasn’t until the previous night that she realised how beautiful they really were. There was a warmth to his eyes that just drew you in. Now whenever Y/N looks into Spencer’s eyes, she can just think of the desperation within them after their kiss and that image was seared into Y/N’s brain.

The two only broke eye contact once someone walked past Y/N’s desk, breaking their eye line. As the person passed Spencer was staging down at his desk again. Letting out a small sigh, Y/N went back to her work abandoning her mug of nothingness.

The flow of Y/N’s work was ruined completely. She couldn’t get back into the routine she was originally in before. Mainly because she was getting thirsty but was too stubborn to go and get herself a drink and secondly because of the fact that she and Spencer would occasionally make eye contact from across the bullpen. Whenever they turned away the corners of their lips turned up in a slight smile. They thought no one noticed these small barely noticeable interactions but someone did.

The next time Y/N was interrupted from her work it was Penelope marching over to her desk. She had this look on her face that Y/N had never seen before. It sort of looked like...betrayal?

“Hey Penny,” Y/N greeted her blonde friend, “What’s up?”

“What’s up? I’ll tell you what’s up!” Penelope said, before leaning down to Y/N to whisper harshly in her ear, “You and boy genius kissed!”

Y/N’s eyes widened, even though Penelope had the decency to whisper it into her ear, the whisper was still pretty loud to hear. She was lucky that Spencer was still engrossed in his work.

“Okay, Penelope, let’s just keep our voices down-” Y/N said.

“So it is true?” Penelope said, “I should’ve been the first to know. That’s what I’m here for, to help you and Reid finally figure out your feelings toward one another.”

“That’s technically not what you’re here for, you’re the technical analyst,” Y/N states, “And yes we did kiss but it meant nothing, we had to do it to lure the unsub closer, he was losing interest.”

“And you didn’t feel anything after?” Penelope questioned, “Like nothing?”

“I didn’t feel anything at all.” Y/N lied. Of course she felt something after kissing Spencer, she was thinking about it all night and whenever she made eye contact she was brought back to that moment.

“If you didn’t feel anything why did Derek say that the two of you have been eye-fucking all afternoon?” Penelope questioned.

Y/N raised an eyebrow before looking over Penelope’s shoulder to look directly at Derek Morgan who was just looking back at Y/N with a small smirk on his face. Y/N turned back to face Penelope.

“We were not eye-fucking, it just so happend that he looked up whenever I did and vice versa. It was all coincidence.” Y/N said.

Penelope sighed, not satisfied with her answer, “Y/N, you know I love you but you seriously need to figure out whatever is going on with you and Reid. Ever since you started working here he’s come out of his shell more, he even flirts with you while working.”

“It’s exactly what you and Derek do!” Y/N defend.

“Yes but both Derek and I know that we don’t mean anything by it, with you and Reid, there is always this sexual tension whenever the two of you flirt. It’s so thick you can cut it with a knife.”

“No there isn’t.” Y/N denies.

“You might not be able to see it but everyone else does, even Hotch and Rossi, and it’s driving us all crazy.” Penelope says.

“I highly doubt that this so-called sexual tension between Spence and I is driving everyone crazy, I don’t think Hotch and Rossi even care,” Y/N says, “And it doesn’t exist. Sure we flirt occasionally but that’s all it is. Flirting. And that kiss we had yesterday that’s all it was a kiss, it’s not like it’s ever going to happen again.”

Penelope let out a quiet huff, “Fine, but the longer you keep denying it, the more you’ll begin to realise your feelings.”

“Bye Penelope.” Y/N says, as the blonde begins walking away.

The moment Y/N turns back to her desk, she sighs. Y/N was extremely glad that Penelope wasn’t a profiler otherwise she would be able to see through all of the lies she just told. Just as she was about to get back to her work, Y/N felt a presence behind her. Thinking it would be Penelope again, she swivelled her chair around and came face to face with the person she had been thinking about all day.

“Spencer!” Y/N exclaimed, “I thought you would be Penelope.”

“It just looked like you needed this.” Spencer says, offering her one of the mugs he was holding in his hands.

Y/N let a small gasp past her lips, “Where would I be without you?”

“Probably dead in a ditch.” Spencer says, leaning past her to place the mug on the desk.

“I could’ve gotten out of that ditch myself,” Y/N defended, “You’re help wasn’t needed.” Spencer raised one of his eyebrows, “But it was greatly appreciated.” Y/N added before realising how close their faces were.

Silently she cursed Spencer for placing the mug down on the desk himself instead of just giving it to her. If this were any other day, Y/N would easily just give a small flirtatious comet before the two of them went along with the rest of their day. But it was today, and both of them knew that a comment like that wasn’t going to cut it.

“There was something I wanted to talk about with you.” Spencer said quietly as he remained in his position with what looked like no desire to move.

“Oh yeah? What do you want to talk to me about Dr. Reid?” Y/N muttered under her breath.

There was a small pause before Spencer answered and in that small pause, his gaze trailed down from Y/N’s eyes to her lips and back up again. Once Y/N realised what he did, she didn’t stop herself from doing the same thing before making eye contact with Spencer again.

“I wanted to talk to you about what happened between us yesterday.” Spencer stated and Y/N felt her heart drop though she didn’t let it show.

“Okay, well we can talk after work if you want, I just want to quickly get through these files first.” Y/N offered. In reality she only wanted more time to figure out what she was going to say.

“That’s fine,” Spencer said, giving her a smile, “I’ll talk to you later.”

Y/N gave him a smile before going back to her work, quickly getting back into her routine but now that routine had something new added - worrying about what she was going to say to Spencer.

As Spencer sat back down at his desk, he couldn’t hemp but let out a sigh of relief. Even though he seemed calm and collected asking Y/N to talk about their kiss, he was freaking out internally. Giving her one final glance, Spencer began to work through the stack of files on his desk, him too worrying about what he would say to Y/N.

***

Nearly everyone in the bullpen had gone home. They had either finished all of their work for the day or they had taken the remainder of the files to finish at home. The only two that remained in the bullpen were Y/N and Spencer - even Hotch left ages before them.

Of course Spencer had finished his work a while ago, he had only been fiddling with things on his desk or reading a few books to pass the time it took until Y/N finished her work. Spencer had even tried to steal a couple of files but Y/N made him put them back deeming that it was her work to do not his.

It was nearly ten at night and Y/N was finishing off her final bit of work for the day. She knew that Spencer had been done for a while. There were multiple times where she told him that he could go home but he waited there regardless. The closer she got to finishing her file the more nervous she got knowing that her conversation with Spencer would be happening within the next few minutes and she had no idea how to approach the topic.

Before she could finish the last file she noticed that Spencer lent against her desk with his arms folded.

“I can tell you’re procrastinating.” He stated.

Y/N sighed and closed the file, “That’s because I am.”

She stood up to match Spencer’s height better and so she could talk to him face to face.

“I’ve been thinking about what I was going to say all day about what happened yesterday. I guess you want to talk about this kiss, correct?” Y/N asked and Spencer nodded.

“That kiss,” Y/N begins, “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. When I went home last night, all I could think about was how good I felt when your lips were on mine and your hands were roaming my body.”

Y/N didn’t know where her sudden burst of confidence came from but she had begun to close the small gap between their bodies so Spencer's was trapped between her and her desk. She snaked her hands up his chest and leant up so her mouth was level with his ear. While her hands were resting on his chest, Spencer’s ghosted over her hips, hesitant to touch her.

“To say that I enjoyed the kiss would be an understatement.” Y/N mutters in his ear.

Spencer’s hands finally come in contact with Y/N’s hips and he can’t stop himself from giving them a small squeeze making Y/N let out a small gasp.

“I’m glad you said those words,” Spencer mumbled, lips brushing her ear, “Because I feel exactly the same way.”

Y/N’s lips begin to pepper small kisses across his neck and up his jaw before they hovered just before Spencer’s. They were both panting slightly, getting lost within one another. Both of them knew that they shouldn’t be doing this but neither of them could stop, just being with each other in this way was intoxicating.

Spencer leaned forward and finally connected their lips. They kissed each other with the same amount of passion as the night previous. Y/N’s hands gently tugged on his hair causing Spencer to occasionally let out small whimpers against her lips. The more they kissed, the more both of them wanted.

Y/N’s hands trailed down from Spencer’s hair to the top of his shirt as she began to loosen his tie. As she did this, Spencer’s flipped their positions and sat Y/N on top of her desk.

“You really like flipping the positions don’t you?” Y/N teased.

“Shut up.” Spencer muttered before kissing her again.

His hands fell to her thighs as he slowly began to push her skirt further up her legs. Y/N’s legs parted letting Spencer know that she was okay with it. As he continued to trail his hands up her thighs, Y/N began to unbutton the first few buttons on his shirt, fully exposing Spencer’s neck to her along with a small bit of his chest.

Slowly she began to pepper kisses down his neck, occasionally biting down to get a reaction out of him. As she did this, Y/N’s hands sank lower and lower down Spencer’s chest until they found his belt. Pulling him slightly closer, Y/N could feel the erection that was growing every passing second. She moved her hand over it, purposefully avoiding giving him any sort of relief. Spencer gently grabbed the back of her neck to make her look at him, “Two can play at that game.”

Spencer’s hand’s trailed higher up Y/N’s thighs until her skirt was bunched around her waist. He began to kiss down her neck as his hands firmly held her thighs in place. As his thumb lightly passed her clothed core, Y/N let out a rather loud whimper.

“Spencer please…”

Spencer chuckled slightly before he slowly moved his thumb to press gently over her clit - enough to give her some sort of stimulation but not enough for Y/N’s liking. Letting out a soft moan she tried to move her hips towards Spencer’s hand but he moved it away before she could get any sort of relief.

“I hate you.” She muttered.

“No you don’t.” Spencer said before leaning in to capture her lips again.

However, before their lips could connect, they both heard footsteps coming their way causing Spencer to jump apart from her. Not that it would exactly do them any good. His shirt was unbuttoned and his tie was slack and he had a small trail of hickies trailing down his neck - not to mention the bulge in his trousers. Y/N wasn’t any better with her sitting on her desk and her skirt bunched up at her waist, if it weren’t for the thin underwear she would be exposing herself completely. Her hair was a mess and she was very flushed in the face. If anyone walked in it was very clear what the two friends were doing.

The footsteps only seemed to get louder before they went away again making both Y/N and Spencer let out a sigh of relief. Whatever mood that had been created between the two had been entirely ruined. As they looked at each other, both of them let out small chuckles.

“You should probably hide those before tomorrow.” Y/N pointed to Spencer’s neck.

Y/N hopped off her desk while pulling her skirt back down and straightening her clothes out while Spencer buttoned his shirt back up, although he took his tie off completely not seeing the point of putting it back on.

“I should be glad that you don’t have any, otherwise it would look very obvious what happened between us.” Spencer stated.

“We really shouldn’t be doing this,” Y/N said, “We’re best friends and nothing more.”

“And I agree.” Spencer said.

The two stared at each other in silence before Y/N spoke up again, “But tomorrow night I have a free apartment so if you want to come over to relieve some of this tension I’ll be there.”

Spencer nodded, “Sounds like a plan.”

“Okay but after that we’re just going to be back to being just friends,” Y/N offered her hand for Spencer to shake, “Deal?”

“Deal.” Spencer said, shaking her hand.

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

TAGLIST: (add yourself of the form above)

@blobbycmfish @izzymcgurie @youabitchhhh @cncos-baby @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @patheticdarling @cherriesrae @jekkles @toomanyfandomstochoosefromdude @pinkdiamond1016 @charleegotthiz @thedancingnerdmermaid @pastelbabygirl19 @whytf2457 @mrsobrien888 @krilli @no-regrets69 @probablycryingg @glove01 @curly-hair-please @deiondraaa @criminal-minds-garcia @futuremrsreid @luredwithpretzels @ekaterina @uprootbasic @doctorspenceryeet @reidsbookclub @silverdagger69 @spencesoulmate25 @averyhotchner @muffin-cup @jayyemarie @loveeee2134 @nyx2021 @alfonsais @kiiya94 @absinthe-and-abstinence @citylights31 @maleclamp @danielle143 @manuosorioh @jayyemarie @onlyssca @justlivinginadaydream @mggshairline @cqck @gubedawnreid @unknown0612

SERIES TAGLIST

@vampireven0m @maleclamp

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid series #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds smut

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squishmallow36 · 3 years ago

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Keeper of the Lost Prepositions - Twenty

Word count: 2.0k

Tw: canon-typical violence

Taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed!): @stellar-lune @ichor-on-my-hands @kamikothe1and0lny @nyxpixels @snowflakewolves @poppinspop @crystallinewalker @uni-seahorse-572 @tiergan-andrin-alenefar @books-over-boys @florida-llama-46 @when-wax-wings-melt @k00laidcrush @bowlcut-boyfriends @good-old-fashioned-lover-boy7 @dexter-dizznee @jamesdeangf

On Ao3 or below the cut!

I knock insistently on Fitz’s door, remembering where it is from last time.

He doesn’t respond, probably hoping I don’t remember and am just testing every door to find him.

“I know you’re in there, Fitz!”

He throws the door open with telekinesis, and demands, “What do you want?” less furious than you’d think, though. Not much, but slightly.

“Look, I get it. You hate me. But I found Alvar, and I figured you would want to be a part of it.”

His jaw clenches. “Where?”

I hold up the leaping crystal, which I pull away from his grasp.

“Who found him? Me. Who here was kidnapped by him? Me again. I’m going too.”

Fitz turns around, either realising that he won’t stop me or deciding that it would waste too much time to convince me.

He has several stashes of goblin throwing stars and palm-length daggers, which he raids, filling his pockets with a whole bunch of sharp objects.

I totally didn’t mentally jot down where they are for an emergency.

“What colour is red, again?” he asks.

“Goblin,” I answer, holding it up to the light. A beam of deep pink is one of the only things between Wonderboy and his brother.

We step into the beam and let the light carry us away.

Guildingham is even more golden than you’d think. Everything is made out of gold, which I know is the Goblins’ whole thing, but, like, it’s extra gold.

I pull up a 3-D map, tracking our location and our destination, and start herding Wonderboy and our goblins toward where Alvar was spotted.

When we got there, I say, “Okay, Fitzy, you’re up. Use your spidey senses to find your brother.”

Lovise and Grizel fan out to establish a perimeter around us. So if Alvar tries to run, they’ll probably be able to hear or smell him.

“Remind me to ask you what a spidey sense is later,” looking mildly scared of the term, but mostly searching for signs that someone has been there anytime in the last century.

The place where we saw Alvar was a dark alleyway, surprisingly made of old bricks. I found the camera that I used to take the picture, recognizing the serial number.

It’s a Technopath thing. I think. Or my brain just holds on to certain details it thinks are important. But I can’t usually remember what I did yesterday.

I hear footsteps behind me, and I whip around. I know it isn’t Grizel or Lovise because they have giant, silent goblin feet, and it doesn’t sound like Fitz.

You know how you can sometimes tell who it is by how they walk up behind you, so then you can say, ‘hi, enter name here,’ without even looking and then they’re just like ‘how’d you do that?’ and you’re like ‘magic’?

No? Just me?

Well, anyway, I think I could’ve been able to tell if it’s Fitz. He still has a distinctive slight drag in his step from the Shadowflux attack.

Turns out, I’m correct in my assumption that someone else is here, and that someone else is Ruy.

He’s sneering, his addler seemingly taken some damage. I can see through it slightly more than usual.

I can definitely make out shoulder-length dark hair, half tied back into a loose ponytail.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here? The middle Vacker child, here to end his brother? Ready to add to the Vacker Legacy? Or is your failed relationship and crumbling cognatedom enough?”

“How does everyone know about that?” I exclaim, not sure why I care. I guess I don’t want Sophie to be advertised the same way.

At least that’s what I tell myself.

He turns toward me. “And the forgotten one. Friendzoned by the one and only Moonlark, and barely relevant for the past two years. Of course, that doesn’t include that Ability Restrictor. Our Technopath would like to thank you for that idea, and she requests some pointers if you have some extra time.”

“Does your Technopath go by ‘Tinker’ by any chance?” I ask, and Ruy takes a few steps in my direction.

“Now where would you get an idea like that? Is it not the same codename as the Black Swan’s Technopath?”

“How do you know their name? They don’t exactly go out all that often. And, yes, it is the same name, but there are some Disney movies named Tinker Bell after the main character, so it’s not unreasonable that both would have come to the same codename, and then had a whole war trying to decide who gets it before they both conceded it wasn’t worth it.”

“Isn’t your name Disney?” Ruy asks, tilting his head in an attempt to remember.

“Same pronunciation, different spelling.” I reply, noticing Fitz sneaking up behind Ruy. I had drawn him close enough and gotten him to pay enough attention to me that Wonderboy could sneak out of Ruy’s line of vision.

Fitz transmits, Time to channel my inner Biana, and I didn’t jump that much.

Before I can process what that means, or Ruy could react to my flinch, Fitz backs up a few steps.

He sprints forward, gaining momentum faster than an eckodon.

Ruy tries to whip around at the sound coming from behind him, not realising what is happening quickly enough to create a forcefield.

Inches from Ruy, Fitz pounces.

Now the Biana reference makes sense. I’m willing to bet she’s done this exact thing.

Instead of taking him down, though, Fitz is launched backward into a brick wall, head snapping forward as it makes contact.

I dig out one of my gadgets and run past Ruy, brandishing it as a weapon, to check on Fitz.

“Nice job with that forcefield, Rue,” Alvar says, blinking into sight. “I knew it would work.”

“That’s not true and we both know it,” Ruy retorts, and I have a feeling he’s glaring at Alvar, not bothering to turn around and check.

At Alvar’s voice, Fitz’s eyes pop open, eyebrows drawing together as his throbbing head registers.

He leans forward, sucking in a sharp breath as he rubs the back of his head.

“You mostly functioning?” I ask, aware that asking if he’s okay is probably out of the question.

He nods slightly, then winces.

At some point, Alvar had started coughing, flickering in and out of sight more than normal.

“This is exactly why I told you to stay home,” Ruy lectures.

Alvar argues, “I’m fine.”

Do you have an idea that might work? Some gadget that will fix everything? Fitz asked.

I nod subtly, and Fitz replies, Care to explain? I have to open my mind to your thoughts, but, like, not that much.

Can you hear me? I ask, figuring it would be a good idea to be on the same page. I don’t usually Telepath.

Yep.

Okay, so I’m not entirely sure where I stored most of my gadgets that I brought with, like, what is where, but I have the forcefield breakers with me somewhere. The trick will be to capture Ruy before he can make another one.

So you need me to tackle him again?

Are you sure you can stand? You hit that wall pretty hard there.

Don’t worry about me. Alvar said the same thing at the exact same time, and I believed Fitz about as much as Ruy believed Alvar.

Slowly, I started to check my pockets. I think this is it—wait, no, this is a hershey kiss, which I offered to him. He took it and stuffed it in an ankle pocket.

This is it—I’m almost certain.

Almost?

Well, it’s either the correct thing or a piece of a thing that I don’t even remember.

Don’t your Technopath senses tell you what it is?

That’s why I said I’m like ninety seven percent sure.

Oh, now we have an exact figure. The amount of attitude dripping off that short phrase is staggering.

Are you ready? I throw the thing at Ruy and you tackle him. Then we deal with Alvar.

As ready as I’m going to be.

I would have looked at him like he’s crazy if we weren’t already staring into each other’s eyes because of the whole Telepath thing. With that realisation, I feel a warm sensation creeping up my cheeks. Hopefully I’m not blushing too obviously.

I blink, clearing my mind. I’m so glad I updated my Sucker Punch to help me throw in a straight line, and, you know, farther and faster, but, like, the straight line is more important so I can actually hit the target.

Fitz staggers to his feet, catching Ruy’s eye, but apparently not being interesting enough to maintain his attention.

Reaching full height, his knees buckle, but he stays standing.

What are you waiting for? he asks.

I take a deep breath, knowing that this could very easily go badly.

In that moment’s hesitation, though, Lovise and Grizel come running back into view, apparently brought by the sound of Fitz hitting the wall, charging at Ruy like a herd of rhinos. Just, you know, slightly scarier.

And by slightly I mean significantly.

They too are deflected by his forcefield but instead of hitting a wall, they are sent in the direction from which they came, landing on the ground hard.

When Ruy looks at Fitz and me once more in suspicion, I can see his strength is severely depleted from maintaining that forcefield through two goblin attacks.

He turns back to Alvar, saying, “Not the sharpest tacks in the box, Goblins.”

Yeah, well neither are you two, so…

I have to press my lips together to keep myself from smiling.

I nod subtly to Fitz, not sure if he is still reading my thoughts, and he sucks in a deep breath.

He takes his first few steps, gaining speed, and I throw the whatever-its-name-is forcefield breakers at Ruy.

He whips around, trying to figure out what hit him, and he somehow had enough time for a flicker of a smirk to cross his face when he sees Fitz, like ‘didn’t you learn not to do that from last time?’.

Ruy’s overconfidence costs him, though, when he crumples to the ground at Fitz’s tackle.

I hear Fitz growl something at Alvar, but it was too low for me to make out, and I seriously doubt I want to know.

Ruy groaned, trying to move his arms, possibly to rub his head. Or to fight Fitz, which would not have been a good idea because Fitz has trained with siblings his whole life. That’s not the kind of power with which you want to mess.

Fitz pulls out those impossible-to-cut human plastic thingies. I don’t know the name, maybe zip-ties, but that doesn’t sound right. Whatever they’re called, he pulled Ruy’s arms behind his back, locking them together so it is impossible for him to cause trouble. Well, hopefully.

“You try anything and I will not hesitate to use the melder.”

Alvar sneers. “So you think you’re so clever.”

I see Fitz out of the corner of my eye, confusion building in his expression.

“You see,” Alvar begins, “You know how trolls age, yes? You’re not total imbeciles, right?”

“Yeah, they age backwards. What does that have to do with you?” Fitz snaps.

Alvar snorts, “Actually, they don’t exactly ‘age backwards.’ Their physical and mental strengths switch as they progress through their lives.”

“And I already knew that.” Fitz retorts.

“Did you know I discovered the reason why? I don’t think so.”

After a slightly too long pause, my curiosity says, “I’ll bite. What is it?”

“I’m sure you’ll have fun trying to figure it out,” Alvar replies, smirking.

He pulls his knees into his chest and presses his palms into the ground. Closing his eyes, a small tremor shakes the ground, and before I, or Fitz for that matter, could react, the city around us started to collapse.

Fitz Sucker Punches Alvar into next week before looking at me and asking, “What do we do?”

#detz #kotlc #dex dizznee #fitz vacker #im supposed to be taking those stupid state tests that count for nothing right now

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comfortmarvelimagines · 4 years ago

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You are Home, and Home is Safe

heyhey ! deciding to just get it over with and post this tonight (for those of you who don’t know what i’m talking about, a post explaining can be found here. side note, please be nice in my inbox, its been rough getting some of those comments). i am, however, going to continue to tag autistic!reader fics with #whenyoucantfindthequiet and #wycftq, so they’re easier to find. hope it’s what you’re after, nonnie, and i’m so so sorry it took so long !!

features : autistic!reader x mama!nat, lowkey asshole Tony Stark (it’s okay i didn’t make him really mean, just kinda well-meaning but misplaced/ mistimed)

warnings : uhhh i guess meltdowns, some self-injurious behaviour

Words are hard. Always have been, always will be.

You haven't always had a family. For years you were passed from foster home to foster home, with a consistent message: you were too much. Your needs were too high, your behaviour too confusing, your struggles too much to deal with. It got to a point where you began to question yourself, your diagnoses and trauma, wondering if it was all in your head or for attention like you were told over and over.

That changed when you met Nat.

It wasn’t immediate of course. There was the initial period of complete and total distrust, of another stranger whose life you were thrust into the middle of, floundering and drowning with no support. There was shutdown after shutdown. The trauma of being ignored and punished for meltdowns meant that you’d learned to internalise. You barely ate, and didn’t speak. But Nat met you where you were, unwaveringly. Was always calm, composed, voice level. Kept food out on the kitchen bench at all times, figuring out your safe foods and keeping them stocked. Realised you liked small enclosed spaces and stocked your bedroom with beanbags, pillows, stuffies and blankets, a permanent blanket fort taking up residence in the living space. Perhaps the most wonderful was her commitment to listening to you, with or without words. The superspy was quick to recognise your shutdown states from body language alone and responded quickly, with two option questions and the request to tap the hand of the answer you wanted.

You almost wanted to feel embarrassed, humiliated, of the accommodations she made so immediately. But she always spoke to you conversationally and never in an infantilizing tone, like so many before her, and the trust you held for her grew. It didn’t always grow in a way that you felt was positive, though. As weeks passed you felt your shutdowns turn into meltdowns and silence into frustrated screams. You didn’t want to hurt her. You didn’t want to feel ungrateful or angry or like any of this was on purpose but somehow she knew. As she held you close after each one she reminded you that your body was unlearning trauma, that you were safe, that you were loved so fully and unconditionally and nothing, including meltdowns, would change that. The way she held you felt like home.

But no one else was like Nat. Social workers were condescending, school was overwhelming, nowhere was safe. So you stuck to Nat. It wasn’t long after you were placed with her that she pulled you out of school, realising that they were doing more harm than good, and she was always there for homeschool. Not looking over your shoulder, but present. You could hear her humming through the walls, or swearing as she dropped a spoon into a pot of soup on the stove again, and it was comforting. It wasn’t the apartment that was home, per say, but having a parent made it feel like one. If she went to the grocery store or a walk in the park you came with, ear defenders on, clinging to her sleeve for safety. She told you that she loved you a million times a day, until one day you said it back.

Words came easier after that. Simple things, like asking what’s for breakfast, became routine. It wasn’t just Nat softly illuminating the cramped space with hummed melodies and occasionally vulgar language but you as well, asking for help with homework or explaining a meme. It felt normal, comfortable, okay. The outside world was too much, but inside your home, the anxiety all but melted from your throat.

You never wanted to leave safety. You wanted to feel it all the time. It was warm and sweet and heavy but in a calm way, like a weighted blanket sinking into your joints. It started as a one-time-thing, after a particularly rough meltdown, but you started sleeping in Nat’s bed. It just felt… right. The panic that set in when Nat left the room and you didn’t know where she was going or what she was doing or if she was ever going to come back was so all-consuming and nauseating that going to sleep alone, in another room, unable to hear her was torturous. What if she abandoned you, gone in the night, social worker beckoning you on to the next uncaring couple, crowded foster family or group home? This way, when you woke at 2am from a nightmare, the first thing you heard was her even breathing. Home. Safe.

***

Tony Stark was something else. Nat eventually started to transition back to work, and, as being homeschooled permitted, brought you with her. Even in classified meetings where you weren’t allowed in you sat in corridors and made sure you could see her red braid through the frosted glass, glancing up from your laptop every few seconds to make sure she didn’t disappear while you wrote your English critique. The rest of Nat’s colleagues (it felt too weird to just casually refer to them as the Avengers and co) didn’t mention your presence, at least in front of you; it was as if they didn’t know what to say or how to say it. Not that you’d say anything back. Outside of the safety of home it was like the anxiety disconnected your brain from your throat, anything you wanted to say cut off before it reached your tongue. It was frustrating. The first few days ended in meltdowns when you reached the apartment and it felt weird and strange and almost like you were two different people but an all-round embarrassment of a child. It was weeks before things settled into a routine and a pattern of acknowledged non-acknowledgement. A pattern Stark ignored.

You were sitting at the island bench in the communal kitchen, drinking chocolate milk and typing out an assignment, when you heard both Nat and Tony heading down the hall towards you. They’d just come out of a meeting, you sitting watch outside the whole time, and Nat had sent you to the kitchen to wait for her while she headed upstairs with Tony to drop off some paperwork to an intern. You hadn’t thought much of it. Sure, you didn’t like being away from Nat at all, but if she was clear in where she was going and how long she was going for (provided it was only a short period), you did okay. It was okay, until you heard the discussion from down the hall.

“Damn, Nat, is that the longest you’ve been away from the kid?”

“No.”

“C’mon, Nat. I know the kid’s been through some shit, but this isn’t healthy. For either of you. What happens if you can’t get out of the mission next time? They’re gonna have to be away from you at some point. You can’t be in this line of work with a barnacle of a kid.”

You’d heard enough. As the topic changed and they entered the kitchen, you didn’t look up from your laptop in greeting.

***

Too much. Too clingy. Too anxious, too needy, too autistic, too much. You needed separation. Give Nat space. Of course she needed to work. The world needed her, and they didn’t need you tagging along. When you got home that night, you headed straight to your room. Buried yourself in the mountain of blankets and stuffies and waited until Nat came to check on you, facing the wall, feigning sleep. You doubt you fooled the former spy but nonetheless, she left you be, a whispered “I love you” hanging in the air as she creaked the door close behind her.

It was seconds before you broke. It felt like choking. All of the fear that was slowly reduced to an ebbing tide through months of living in a caring environment crashed on you like the mother of all tsunamis, saltwater running down your cheeks and into your mouth as if smothering all the words you wished you could scream. It lasted for hours and hours and it was relentless, painful, as if your heart was being ripped out and an empty throbbing numbness was expanding in its place. You were too much. Too much. Too much.

Nat stood outside your door at the time when she’d usually be gently waking you up, watching you unfurl and stretch yourself out of the cocoon of blankets you slept in every night. She knew something was wrong from lunch yesterday, and your isolation from her was concerning. She figured you needed space, but the sleep she knew was an act sat at the back of her mind and bugged her all night long. Even with that nagging suspicion that something was up, nothing prepared her for the way her heart sank when she came in and saw your body curled up, eyes red and barely open from exhaustion, pillow and face damp from tears.

She was at your side in seconds. Your resolve to cut yourself off melted at the sight of her open arms, safe, warm, home. And immediately your body melted. Hands running through your hair, the promise that you were safe, loved, worthy of support, the request to “tell me next time, please, you don’t need to deal with this on your own.”

For some reason, those were the words that broke out the first sounding sob in the 12 hours of silent crying. It was so loud and gut-wrenching and it almost didn’t feel like it came from you at all and it was such a weird feeling, and all of a sudden you were scratching at your arms to try and re-embody yourself and Nat was breathing calmly and deeply and gently rubbing your shoulders until you found yourself easing back into your physicality.

“Did you hear what Stark said yesterday?”

And just like that she figured it out, of course she did, because she’s a trained spy and that’s her job, to put the pieces together and slot the narrative into place. And god, were you grateful, because you couldn’t see yourself stringing sentences together to accuse none other than Iron Man himself of triggering waves of hurt just by stating what you’d convinced yourself was the truth. She was quick to reassure. You are loved, you are wanted, you are always welcome and will always be her child and what you need will always come first. The warm safety settled itself in your belly and you let the tiredness wash over you, drifting on a life raft of whispered Russian lullabies and Nat’s hand rubbing circles on your back. At peace.

Of course, you’d never tell Nat, but hearing her whisper-yell at Tony over the phone for being an insensitive dick was possibly one of the best moments of your life.

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harryhandstan · 4 years ago

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a styles family christmas

I’m sorry this is late and shorter than I wanted but I couldn’t let the year end without a little holiday celebration from my favorite family! Linking the other parts of the series below so you can re-visit them if you choose but please don’t feel like you have to. Enjoy!

Thank you to @tbslenthusiast, @bfharry, and @iconicharry for the encouragement to finish this!! also miss zoey @milfzaynmalik is to thank for the super fluffy ending thank you love!

I Want Your Belly - Wonderful and Warm - Washed Away in You - Do You Wanna Build a Snowman?

word count: 3.1k

writing tag | masterlist

The crackle of Sterling’s whimpers filtering through the baby monitor wakes you. You’re slipping your feet into your slippers before you realize that Harry’s side of the bed is empty, his voice joining the growing distress of your son.

“S’all this about, bub? Too early to be makin’ so much noise, son.”

You can tell even through the speaker of the monitor that Harry’s still half asleep. Sterling’s cries become slightly muffled, you’re sure by Harry holding his son to his chest now to try to soothe him.

“Let’s see if daddy can figure out what’s wrong before we have to wake mumma, hmm?”

By the time you make it down the hall to Sterling’s room, Harry’s already got him changed and mostly re-dressed in his Christmas pajamas, delicately trapping one of Sterling’s feet to put the red sock back on his foot that probably came loose while Harry was changing him. Your son was much like their father, never one to stay still for long.

“Getting pretty good at this dad thing, H. That may be a new diaper changing record for you.”

Harry flashes you a sleepy smile, placing kisses on each of Sterling’s cheeks as he coos happily up at the two of you.

“Look what you did, bub. Told ya y’were being too loud,” He drums his fingers along Sterling’s tummy before bending to kiss your cheek the same sweet way he did his son’s, “Sorry, love. Meant to turn the monitor off so we wouldn’t wake you.”

“It’s okay, it’s time for him to eat again so the alarm would’ve woken me anyway.”

He helps you get everything set up to nurse, gently gripping your shoulders before kissing your cheek again, “You feed bubs, I’ll go make coffee and breakfast.”

You nod an agreement and he’s already made it out the door, preparing to make his way down the stairs before the statement registers in your brain, “Wait what? Why? Harry..it’s 4 a.m.”

He pokes his head back around the doorway, “S’Christmas morning. Don’t you want coffee before we do presents?”

You sigh, keeping your grip tight on Sterling as you let your head fall back to rest against the chair.

“Harry, I promise I will love and appreciate anything you got me just as much, if not more, when I’ve had a little more sleep.”

“Who says all the presents under the tree are for you, princess. Some of them are for Sterling and you and I both know it takes at least an hour to settle him back down after an early feeding so..thought we’d do Christmas early while he’s more alert.”

“What do you mean some..we only got him one thing. We agreed we wouldn’t go overboard with his first Christmas since he’s so young, remember?”

“I remember it as more of a suggestion than an agreement, really.”

The grin that spreads across his face tells you all you need to know. He definitely went overboard to spoil you both and your eyes grow misty with tears at what you’ll see when you venture downstairs later.

“I know how grumpy you get when you don’t get enough sleep though, so if y’really wanna wait til’ later..”

“We can do it now,” You interrupt, “But I just don’t want you to be disappointed when you don’t get a big reaction from Sterling, alright? You have to remember he’s only 7 weeks old.”

His face lights up, child-like wonder written across his features. He crosses the room quickly to smack you with another kiss, to the top of your head this time, “Meet you downstairs in a bit!”

You giggle at the way his feet shuffle almost too quickly back across the carpet and he trips over his own feet, catching himself and assuring you he’s fine before continuing down the stairs.

It’s only 20 minutes after that you join him in the kitchen, but you can tell he’s used every second of it to stay busy. There’s a plate of food already waiting for you and he offers you a mug of coffee, letting you transfer Sterling to his shoulder so he can burp him while you enjoy your breakfast.

“You didn’t make anything for yourself?”

“M’too excited to eat,” He shakes his head, “I’ll have something after.”

“Alright then, if you can wait then so can I,” You put your fork down, taking a long sip of your coffee before setting the mug back on the table. You offer him your hand, and for a second you think he may refuse, urge you to sit back down and enjoy your meal first. He doesn’t though, the buzz of elation at you seeing what he got for you overrides any other emotion and he grips your hand tightly in his, squeezing once before letting you pull him into the living room.

The only light provided in the room comes from the glow of the lights on your tree. They perfectly illuminate the shock on your face at the sight of how many presents have joined the pile since the night before.

“Harry, how did you have time to do all this? You’ve been busy or with us in all your off time lately.”

“Shh..they aren’t all from me,” He’s sitting on the floor in front of the tree, and he pats the spot next to him, inviting you to join him. He looks down at where Sterling sits in his lap when he says, “Had some help from Santa.”

That earns him a big smile from his son, who can’t take his bright eyes off of Harry. They drift to you for a second when you plop yourself next to the two of them.

“Seriously..I know you had help cause there’s no way you wrapped all these yourself.”

He covers Sterling’s ears, rolling his eyes at your slight insult, “Fine. If you must know, Auntie Sham helped me. I had them all sent to her and she wrapped them for me. I picked them up from her before I came home yesterday and snuck them in from the car after you fell asleep.”

“Sham? My best friend Sham? I just talked to her last night and she didn’t mention any of this to me!”

“‘Course she didn’t. Made her promise she wouldn’t tell. You’re too nosy for me to hide them here, too smart too. You would’ve figured it out a month ago if I hadn't asked Sham to help.”

“A month? The two of you have been scheming against me for a whole month?” He dodges the playful swat you attempt to throw his way, catches your arm instead to settle it against his chest. He uses it as leverage to pull you closer to his face, a firm kiss pressed to your lips. You melt against him, any irritation that may have been building fading away. You make a mental note to shoot Sham a text later to thank her.

When he finally breaks the kiss, he reaches with the arm that isn’t clutching tight to Sterling to grab a small box wrapped with simple red paper, adorned with green ribbon and a bow. This one is more messily wrapped than the others, and if you had to guess, Harry did it himself.

“Baby gets the first present.” He holds the box close to Sterling’s little hands. He has been grabbing at things more lately, discovering his hands and learning to use them. Thankfully they hadn’t quite learned to grip too tightly yet, since they mostly ended up in yours or Harry’s hair when either of you held him.

He tosses a matching box over to you and you catch it. You watch Sterling closely, see his sweet hands as they wrap around the box Harry offered him.

“Harry? Remember what I said earlier about Sterling being 7 weeks old so that present is most likely about to..end up in his mouth.” You chuckle as you watch that exact thing happen and Harry scrambling to move the box away from his son’s mouth, leaning in to ensure none of the paper got left behind. He breathes a sigh of relief when he inspects the package and finds that everything's still intact, maybe just a bit more wet than before.

“Let daddy help you, bub,” He nods to the one in your hands, “Open up, babe.”

You do, tearing away the paper and waiting for Harry to open the one for Sterling. You pull the top off the white box, revealing a bracelet made from the same beads as Harry’s teal Eliou necklace he owns. You look up to see a much smaller version being slipped onto Sterling’s wrist.

“I seeing you eyein’ my necklace when I wear it, but I also know you prefer bracelets so I had the designer make a set for you and bubs, so we can all match.”

“Oh, Harry, I love it so much! It really is gorgeous, thank you!” You turn your wrist around to get the full view of it fitting perfectly against your skin. You wipe a few tears when they escape from your eyes before exclaiming, “Okay! Your turn!”

You pass him an envelope labeled with his name and he raises his eyebrows at you as he takes it.

“Starting out a little small, are we?”

You shrug, “Depends on your definition of small.”

He’s gently pulling at the opening and before you can stop yourself you blurt out, “Just open it!”

“I am! I am! Just didn’t want to rip the card inside.” He works faster now, fingers tugging the edge of the card out and gasping when the airplane ticket falls out and lands in front of him.

“Is this what I think it is?” He snatches the piece of paper up, eyes scanning frantically over the words to find the destination, “How did you know when to schedule it for?”

“I know how homesick you’ve been lately, and how much you wanted more of your family to be able to meet Sterling so I thought we’d go to them instead of the other way around. Jeff helped me, said next week would be best. If you don’t want to do it then though we can..”

“No, this is perfect, except..”

“Except?”

“I also talked to Jeff about taking some time off to visit family. Yours instead of mine though. I see now why he had next week blocked off.”

“Wait..is that why my mom said ‘see you soon’ when we FaceTimed her last week? Did she know already?”

“Yeah, I just wanted to make sure they wouldn’t mind havin’ us around for a week or so.”

He reads over his ticket again, laughing when he sees the end date of the trip you scheduled, “We’re gonna have a busy two weeks.”

“Great minds think alike, I guess.”

His hand reaches the short distance to cup your jaw, thumb swiping away more happy tears that have spilled at the idea of getting to show off Sterling to yours and Harry’s family. He smiles proudly down at Sterling before returning his gaze back to you.

“Yeah, guess they do.”

You both work through opening the rest of the presents labeled for Sterling as fast as you can, knowing it won’t be long before he’s ready for his mid-morning nap. You both make goofy faces and silly noises to keep Sterling engaged with each of the gifts you tear open for him. You can see him fading though, eyes trying to slip closed between each gift.

“I know there’s only a few more left, but I think we should save them for later, H. He’s getting tired.”

“Guess I did go a little overboard, huh?”

“No, Harry, everything is perfect, really. You did amazing.”

“I’ll take him back up to his bed, get him settled.”

“I’ll do it,” You’re already up, gently lifting him from Harry’s arms, “I’ll come back down and we can open the rest of ours together while he naps.”

“Or we could nap while he does..isn’t that what they say? Sleep when the baby sleeps?”

“That’s what we’ve been told, yeah. Never really works out for us though, does it?”

There’s always too much to be done in between; anything from a sink full of dishes to be washed or a few loads of laundry to be done. It was a nice idea though, and when Harry is able to be home he’s helping with as much of it as he can, urging you to do the resting instead.

He shakes his head, “No, it doesn’t but..s’Christmas. There’s no rush today, right? We can just..relax.”

You shoot him a look and you both fall into a fit of giggles, knowing there’s no such thing now that you have Sterling. Not that he was a particularly fussy or difficult baby, but he was just that..a baby that took up all your time and attention and didn’t care what day it may be or how tired his parents were.

“No harm in trying.” You shrug, keeping a tight hold on the mostly asleep babe resting on your shoulder as you make your way up the stairs, Harry following close behind, ready to catch you if your clumsy feet were to trip on the way up.

“Tryin’? Guarantee y’ll be snoring by the time your head hits your pillow in about 5 minutes.”

You don’t even have the energy to playfully scold him for his teasing, a yawn stretching across your face only confirming his theory. You’ve made it back to the doorway of Sterling’s room and you turn back to face Harry, a dreamy smile working it’s way across your lips. He clears the space still standing between the two of you easily, wrapping his arms around you to pull you into a hug.

Harry’s careful not to squeeze too tight, to add the right amount of pressure in the embrace so you know how much he loves and appreciates you. You’re the one who deepens it, still keeping a firm hold to your son but pressing yourself as close as possible to his chest. His hand rests on the small of your back as he reaches around you to turn the doorknob to guide you through the doorway. In his haste to help, he’s pushed the door more roughly than he intended. The creak of the door startles Sterling, and you both wince at what you know is coming; your son’s cry rings loud through his room, breaking the silence you had already adjusted to. You do your best to pacify him, pacing a few times, shushing and rubbing his back in an attempt to quiet him.

You don’t even notice Harry’s absence until he’s back, a chestnut colored teddy bear held in his right hand. It’s the one present that the two of you picked out and agreed on, the one thing Sterling actively tried to reach for when it was opened earlier in the morning. Harry swears it looks just like one he had owned when he was younger and he wanted his son to grow up with a similar comfort. Sterling had stared at it for 10 minutes, no matter how you and Harry had tried to pull his attention away with other things you had opened for him. Currently, Sterling’s louder cries had diminished to softer ones, but still hadn’t completely stopped.

You speak quietly into his ear, almost a whisper when you say, “Look what daddy went back downstairs and got for you, angel. Don’t let him convince you he picked it out though.”

“Mumma’s a terrible liar,” Harry sing-songs at Sterling, flashing a look of disbelief up towards you, “Can’t believe you’d lie to our boy like that on Christmas.”

“It’s not a lie!” You’re still keeping your voice low so as not to disturb the baby again, “I showed it to you online weeks before we found that one in the store!”

“Y’sure? Cause I remember you being distracted by how cute the baby shoes were. I had to convince you not to spend $50 on a pair of boots he wouldn’t even be able to wear until next year!”

“I..well..they were on sale! He’d look so cute running around in boots next year!”

“You think he’ll be running by next year?” There’s a genuine fear in his voice at that thought, the idea of his baby growing up that fast.

“Maybe. He’ll be a year old next Christmas so it’s a definite possibility, especially if he takes after you.”

His voice is somber when he speaks again, “I can’t imagine him being anything other than the tiny baby he is now.”

“Babies grow, H,” The statement comes out more sarcastic than you intended, so you add, “Whether we want him to or not. We can always have another one too, you know.”

“You’re already thinking about another baby? Now?

“Well, not this second, no. But eventually. Like to maybe give you a little girl if you want one. Or any other boy is fine too. I’d be happy either way.”

“I’d take a girl.” He smirks at you, taking the now sleeping Sterling from you, placing a kiss to his forehead before bending to transfer him carefully into his crib. You both hold your breath as Sterling stretches, another tiny mewl at not being held anymore. His eyes stay closed though, and the two of you release a sigh of relief at the sound of his soft snores.

“Yeah?” You work one arm around his waist as he bends to tuck the teddy bear next to Sterling. He knows it can’t stay there while he naps, but for now he hopes it’ll bring his son even more comfort than he’s already feeling, at least for the few minutes more that he’ll be standing there to watch over him.

“Yeah,” He nods, still looking down when he continues, “As long as she turns out just like you, I’d love a lil girl.”

You don’t know what to say to that; don’t know how to tell him that one of your nightly prayers is that Sterling will turn out just like him. Big-hearted and kind with soft brown curls and that bright smile that could charm anyone. You would tell him later, but for now all you can do is stare lovingly back at him, blinking a few times to clear the tears. A love this big was something that had only ever existed in your dreams, and now you were being reminded of how real and true it was, your only response is to wrap your other arm around him and hug him tightly. You know he’ll be able to interpret the hug as a sign of your admiration for what he’s just said, for the wish that he hopes was just spoken into existence for the future.

When he does lift his eyes back up to study your face, his next breath is simply used to tell you, “Merry Christmas, darlin’”

#harry styles imagine #harry x reader #dad!harry #my writing

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thoughts-on-bangtan · 4 years ago

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Let’s talk: RUN Episode 131

by Admin 1

I know I’ve probably said this about literally every episode but this one was so fun! Admin 2 and I were honestly laughing almost the entire time while also trying our best to follow along their “debates” and just taking in all the chaos. But, I’m getting ahead of myself.

Quick recap: in this episode we’re at the pool that belongs to the same hotel at which they had lunch at the end of the previous episode and the objective is twofold--not get wet and win a debate. That’s basically it, it’s like the mint chocolate debate episode but even more hilarious and with the addition of wet Bangtan.

Something I truly love is how it took vmin exactly 57 seconds (which includes the 18 second long intro) to find some kind of ‘reason’ to hold/shake hands behind JKs back. Because of course they did.

After the whole “mess” that ensued after the Titanic preview picture was posted yesterday, I can basically just say one thing--there was literally no need whatsoever to get all anxious and uncertain about the picture, or anything the shippers made out of it. As always the best course of action, which is the one I usually apply, is waiting until we get the full thing so we have context for what we’re shown in the picture/teaser/scene. It’s like that scene at the end of one of the ITS episodes where Jimin goes to JK to tell him about a supposed leak in his room which was taken way out of context and proportions until we got the next episode a week later and the actual events were completely different from anything and everything that was theorized.

So, what’s the lesson? Wait until we get the full thing, dear fellow vminnies, that way we can avoid making each other anxious and unsure.

Anyway, let’s get into it by starting with the ‘warm-up’ which consisted of one-on-one “battles” where the members stood on these floating foamy mats being held by two staff members and having to make each other fall into the water by playing the hand pushing game.

Yoongi VS Jimin -- I like how the two shortest members went against each other, which I’d assume might’ve had something to do with Yoongi’s shoulder and how chances of Jimin hurting him due to his height/size/weight were the smallest as opposed to Namjoon or even Hoseok. Maybe I’m imagining/overthinking things but it seemed like Jimin was a little hesitant/careful in how he approached the game and in the way he touched Yoongi, which honestly is very thoughtful and cute of him if that’s true, considering his shoulder and all. In the end Yoongi, after they basically goofed around more than actually tried to push each other, offers a deal of just doing it once properly, ending in both of them falling in the water since Yoongi leans forward, hugs Jimin and drags him down with him.

Tae VS Hobi -- These two might’ve been the quickest, given how Hobi said he’s scared at least three times and Tae basically use a moment to ‘attack’ where Hobi was distracted by the fact that a moment prior he thought Tae almost would’ve hit him in the face with his forehead on accident. That lucky did not happen, but Hobi did end up in the water and Tae remained on the float and completely dry.

Namjoon VS Seokjin -- Now these two, how can I put my thoughts/feelings into cohesive words and sentences instead of just a long key smash? They were hilarious, and their round definitely took the longest out of all of them, both trying to make the other fall yet simultaneously seeming like they weren’t trying all that hard since neither wanted to land in the water? After all before the game started Seokjin did complain how the RUN crew told him they wouldn’t have to get into the water. And yet, in the end, after a visible moment of contemplation, Namjoon hugs Seokjin (who hugs him back) and they fall into the water together (when I tell you how much I love them, wow).

JK VS Jimin --Here’s where we get the Titanic moment while JK and Jimin stand on the float and are being pulled to the middle of the pool, the members immediately jumping in with Hobi going “Jack, come back” in a breathy voice while Yoongi (?) sings the melody of My Heart Will Go On and everyone is laughing. It was an absolutely hilarious and cute moment. What made me laugh the most during the whole thing were the Jimin heads used to hide whatever, which I as a joke called the “Victoria’s Secret Fantasy Bra (Head Edition)” while talking to Admin 2. During the game itself Jimin and JK are hilarious, slapping each other’s chests and trying different tricks to make the other fall, showing how amazing their core strength and balance is, but eventually Jimin shoves JKs chest and JK falls into the water, winning the game since Jimin “cheated” and thus lost.

Seokjin VS Tae -- Interesting to note is how Jimin remained in the water and close by while these two were playing. Seokjin and Tae though somehow seemed the most chaotic out of all of them, despite Seokjin offering that they should just do it in one go...which didn’t work out. They leaned into each other twice while laughing before starting to “wrestle” until Tae put his arms around Seokjin’s waist and basically threw him into the water while subsequently being pulled after him and falling in as well. Sometimes I think we forget how strong Tae is (though after his BE_log earlier today I doubt we’ll forget that again any time soon).

Once “warm-up” was done, the members were split into two groups of three while one person, the MC, sat in the middle in a glass box (though missing the front glass panel). The rules were established and we basically figured out that there are water canons in front of the seated members and a bigger one releasing water onto the member sitting in the middle. They got words and things they were not allowed to do/say since otherwise they would get splashed.

Safe to say they all fairly quickly looked even more like very wet puppies. I mean look at Yoongi and his cute curly poodle hair, adorable!

The debate portion itself was about “crunchy or soft cereal”, “eggs of peas on jjajangmyeon” and “firm or soft peaches” and truly more chaotic shouting than actually debating. The team members and the “MC” changed for each round, which lasted 11 minutes each. Who debated what was chosen by the crew (or the MC). My highlights for the cereal debate (besides Seokjin cutely complaining how he prefers his cereal soggy and Namjoon equally cutely telling him to just pretend he likes it crunchy) were Yoongi (who was team soggy cereal) and his argument that since Kendrick Lamar eats soggy cereal, that’s basically the winning argument, Namjoon arguing that since “cereal” and “crunchy” both start with a c that’s the only right answer, and Tae arguing that if you eat chocolate cereal it’ll melt and you’ll additionally get chocolate milk so obviously soggy cereal is better. The jjajangmyeon portion had discussions about prices, as well as Hobi (team peas) arguing he doesn’t like seeing animals in pain (which was quickly countered by JK saying he’d just eaten pork before the episode) and Tae generally being appalled by having to argue in favor of peas since he doesn’t like them yet used the argument that his dad likes them so if you argue against them...well.

And finally the peaches debate had Tae and his galaxy brain using their Chilsung Cider ads as argument and how the peaches in it were firm since they bounced and thus they are better, which JK tried to counter by pointing out that those were just CGI to which Tae basically said he’s insulting their beautiful ads, how dare. I also love how Jimin, who was on Tae’s team, went along with whatever nonsense argument Tae came up with as though it was the most logical one in the world. Just lovely soulmate things, we love to see it. Speaking of nonsensical arguments, you have to give points to Namjoon for his ability to sound like he’s making perfectly sensible and logical arguments while doing, well, the exact opposite. Or Yoongi who just bs-ed his way through the entire thing while acting totally serious about it.

Can we please have a quick look at the following screenshot:

And now, can we please talk about how everyone is nicely sitting in their designated place with space between them...and then there’s vmin who are like magnets because “Space who? We don’t know her”.

Admin 2 asked me to add their comment/thought about how it looks juuuuust a little as though vmin may or may not have been holding hands below the table, which, I mean, we’ll never know but, at this point (especially after the BE unit unboxing video) I wouldn’t even be surprised if it were true.

At one point when Seokjin became the MC the water kept on coming and coming and the members were desperate to figure out what was the thing they were doing that caused it. Jimin thought it could be the caps that some of them wore, so without hesitation or question, he took off Tae’s cap (bless Jimin for giving us another view at wet hair Tae, truly) and then, I swear, it looks like he wanted to ruffle Tae’s hair yet just a second before making contact he stops himself and instead turns his hand in like a “I’m presenting some kind of argument” way. Adorable.

A final note goes out to the fact that they are wearing white button downs which, I mean, makes perfect sense I guess? And also how the crew gave them bathrobes so they’d stay warm, I’d assume, yet very quickly those were drenched as well thanks to the water canons so it basically defeated the purpose completely. And yet, despite all the water etc they all look fantastic.

Overall it’s a hilarious episode that’ll give your stomach muscles and lungs an amazing workout. Bangtan were their chaotic, loud, and mischievous selves and honestly, I can’t wait to see what else they’ll debate in the next episode.

#vmin #RUN BTS #RUN BTS episode 131 #BTS #Taehyung #Jimin #Namjoon #Seokjin #Yoongi #Hoseok #Jungkook #namjin

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jaedore · 4 years ago

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BINDING BONDS | 4

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parings: jung jaehyun x reader

genre: ceo!au, arranged marriage!au, consumption of alcohol, asshole/player Jaehyun, swearing

[ ◇ angst ]

note: BB deals with themes of mental and physical abuse, which can be upsetting for some readers. If you feel uncomfortable reading these types of plots, you are advised to not continue

a/n: just a little update before things get a lil crazy. i didn’t want the characters to go through so much so quickly, so enjoy this filler chpt!! also send me some feedback, i’d love to hear from you guys! ♡

[ 6.2 k ]

You woke up to a throbbing headache and the sun shining in your face. You tried moving away from the light, but a firm pair of arms held you in place. Turning your head, you see Jaehyun sleeping peacefully behind you. You instantly jolt away from him, aghast that you two were in the same bed.

Jaehyun stirs from the impact but immediately falls back asleep after mumbling incoherent words. Out of all the moments you’ve had with him, this is the first he held such placidity, you couldn’t help but see those features of his that everyone admires. Jaehyun’s skin coated with a honey tone that looked like it was made for a polished statue, the way his feather-like eyelashes kissed his cheeks, and the tint of his lips. It felt like you’ve done this before, admire him.

Oh no, we didn’t...you looked down and realized you were wearing his shirt, clutching the black cotton between your fists.

“You’re awake,” Jaehyun whispered, rubbing his eyes.

“Uh yeah,” you avert your gaze elsewhere, even his morning voice made you jittery.

“Don’t worry, we didn’t do anything,” he responded, looking at your disheveled state.

Your hair was put in the worst bun possible, last night when Jaehyun was removing your makeup, your hair was all over your face so he had no choice but to put it up somehow. Since you slept in it, more hairs poked out making you look bizarre. The bare face you possessed brought out the puffiness of your cheeks and the swole in your lips. Jaehyun couldn’t help but look at you, who sat in his shirt. Considering that it was bigger on you, he noticed your shoulder poking out. Nervously, Jaehyun diverts his gaze elsewhere.

“Then how did you get into my bed?” you asked, the last thing you remember was drinking to the sight of him and Chaeyoung at the after-party last night.

“You wanted me to stay,” Jaehyun clarified.

“And you listened to me?” you blurted, clearly frustrated with your actions. As you threw the blankets off, Jaehyun gently grasped your hand to stop you from leaving.

“Y/n, please. About last night, I meant what I said at the Charity Ball,” he began.

“I don’t know,” you brushed him off, standing up.

“Please, just hear me out,” Jaehyun begged.

You hesitated for a bit, what if he doesn’t mean his words? What if he just goes back to how he was? You inhaled enough air to inflate your lungs, making your decision. You sat back on your bed, crossing your legs, letting him continue.

“I know what I did was wrong and nothing will ever justify it. I was just angry that I wasn’t allowed to find love for myself, I was angry that I couldn’t be with Chaeyoung. All of the words I said that tore you down, every action that I had done to hurt you, I take it all back. You didn’t deserve to be treated like that and I’m truly sorry. I know it’ll take a while for you to forgive me, but please, I want to apologize for everything.” Jaehyun looked up at you and you knew he genuinely meant what he said because you’ve never seen such misery in his eyes.

You sat dazed in front of him, your mind couldn’t stop asking questions. Does he even mean all of this? “So what does this mean?” you looked up from your lap.

“I don’t know, but I do want to try this out with you. I want to see if I can get there with you...no-” he shook his head, “-I want to get there with you and we can go as slow as you want!”

You sat there thinking to yourself, you were so conflicted and guarded. Is this too soon? Is he just saying this to get in my head?

“Please say something,” he pleaded, fiddling with his fingers.

“I-“ you inhaled a sharp breath, “-I don’t know Jaehyun. We’ve been so hostile towards each other the entire time. This is toxic, this isn’t good and I don't want this.” you faltered.

“Then what should I do?” Jaehyun asked, brows furrowed. As desperate as he sounded, he genuinely wanted to be better for you...and for himself.

You didn’t know, you didn’t want to say anything because there was a lot that you wanted him to do, “Jaehyun,” you fumbled for the correct words, “I-your words really hurt me, don’t think I have the heart to trust and forgive you right now.”

“Oh,” he lowered his head, clearly disappointed.

“I appreciate you apologizing though. I think it’s just going to take me some time to figure this out on my own.”

“Of course, take as much time as you needed,” he stood up and with soft steps, walked out of your room.

Why is he so sad in the way he walked? What happened yesterday and why is he suddenly acting differently? You threw your blankets aside and rested your hands on your propped up knees. Your pounding headache wouldn’t stop as you tried to recall the events that happened last night. You remember the vibrations of the blaring music, the flashing lights, the sheer coating of sweat on your body, Jaehyun dragging you away, the dried tears that stained your cheeks, and...you crying. Oh my gosh...you winced at your humiliating behavior as the conversation you had with Jaehyun came back. How can you be so stupid? Get your shit together, damn it y/n!

It took you a while to get yourself out of bed, you didn’t want to risk facing Jaehyun. Maybe that’s why he’s all apologetic now. You thought, citing your conversation with him from last night. When you finally heard the familiar sound of his door shutting, you got up to wash your face. It was then you realized you didn’t have any makeup on. Oh, he must’ve taken it off…

After getting yourself ready for the day, you walk downstairs and there’s a saturated aroma of savory breakfast food filling the air, “You made breakfast?” you walked down to see two sets of plates placed on the table filled with food.

“Yes,” Jaehyun’s lips pressed together.

“Oh, thank you.”

“I’m sorry for not making you any last time,” he scratched the back of his head, “um, let’s eat.”

If you were to be honest, the tension between you wasn’t exactly there, but it was just a little awkward. You sat across from each other in silence as you ate, the quietness was eating you alive so you took the courage to speak first.

“What happened last night?” you asked him, you just wanted confirmations of your thoughts.

“Well” he began, “at the club, you got super drunk that you started dancing with one of my friends, Johnny Suh. So I took you home and...you started crying.”

“Oh my gosh,” you rested your forehead on your palm, embarrassment washing over you, so everything I said was true. “Please don’t tell me what I said,” you held up a hand and continued eating your food. You already knew what you said, you just didn’t want to hear it from Jaehyun.

“Oh. Okay,” Jaehyun thought that maybe you were just embarrassed, but he also felt like you didn’t want to talk about how you truly felt. He figured he’d have to wait for you to be ready without being intoxicated.

The day went on how it usually did, you both went to your rooms, this time leaving your doors opened a bit. Occasionally, you’d go to the kitchen to get a snack and you’d see him doing the same. Instead of just staring at each other with a void, a small nod would come.

It’s going to take time. Jaehyun reminded himself as he watched you go back up to your room.

You, on the other hand, you weren't handling it too well. You were so used to people coming and going as they pleased, that you’ve built yourself a wall. You’re just trying to be cautious because of the past and because of how Jaehyun regarded you.

Your phone rang, interrupting you from your thoughts, “Hello?”

“Hey, how are you doing?” Haewon asked.

“I’m fine.”

“You left me last night without telling me that you were leaving early with Jaehyun,” you knew your best friend was pouting on the other side.

“I’m sorry, I was just really wasted,” you sighed, you needed to stop doing that.

“Yeah I know, at least you got home safely,” Haewon commented, “he didn’t...yell at you again right?”

“No.”

“Oh really? What happened?”

“Well this morning, Jaehyun apologized and said that he wanted to actually try. But I don’t know, Haewon. I really really don’t know what to do,” you faltered.

“Really y/n? He apologized? And you’re going to really believe that? ” Haewon doubted.

“I mean he sounded sincere,” you shrugged.

“Well, I don’t trust him at all! I hate the way he treats you. There’s no way he whole-heartedly meant it.” Haewon retorted.

“We’ll see,” you huffed.

“Anyways, I know you're still planning your collection for spring and summer, but I just wanted to check up on you. I hope you’re doing okay,” you felt her heartwarming smile melt your heart.

“I’ll be okay,” you reassured her.

“I’m serious, y/n! If he mistreats you again, Imma just have to come over and give him a little punching!” Haewon threatened.

“No! Don’t!” you said in bewilderment, “Mark already did and it didn’t end looking good, so please, no more fights.”

“What? Mark Lee? No way.”

You explained to her the situation of that morning, you still couldn’t erase the image of Jaehyun who looked defeated and contrite at the time. The way his full shoulders suddenly withered over his sturdy body, his firm hands collapsed beside him, and his eyes painted in poignant. The image stained your brain and no matter how much you tried forgetting it you couldn’t help but feel the slight twinge in your chest.

You rushed the conversation, in hopes of ending the topic, “alright, it’s late and I have to get into the office early tomorrow. Goodnight, I’ll talk to you later,” you yawned.

“Okay, love you,” Haewon replied.

You hung up, feeling your stomach grumble. You’ve been in your room all day, you haven’t gone out to eat yet. You headed to the kitchen for a late snack and as you opened the fridge, you spotted a written note stuck to the top of a container.

[ I made some for dinner, but you seemed busy on the phone. Just heat it in the microwave until it’s the way you want it ]

You took off the top, smelling the stir fry. You nodded, impressed that Jaehyun can actually cook. Once it was warm enough, you sat at the table and scrolled through emails. You had more files that needed to be approved, hopefully, it wasn’t as much as the last round. Launching a new collection was definitely hard, especially when it’s for two seasons of the year, which meant two different concepts. You loved your job, but sometimes you wish that there were easier ways to approve things.

“Good morning,” your mother greeted.

You pressed your lips together at the familiar sight on your desk. Once again, there were stacks of files sitting on your desk, so you had to literally move them to make room for yourself. As you sat down, you ordered the files from most urgent to least and immediately got to work.

This time, you weren’t so harsh on yourself. You often took breaks and occasionally got food with your mother, you enjoyed the time you shared with her because it wasn’t often that you did.

“How are you and Jaehyun?”

“We’re...good,” you hummed, stirring the tea that sat before you. You watched as the tinted liquid swirled after your spoon in the glass cup, it went with the flow. Maybe I should too.

“Honey, I know when you’re lying,” she took your hand in hers, almost as if she was trying to shield you from the dark world of being hurt.

“Mother, really, we’re fine,” you sighed. You didn’t want to trouble her or stress her out, you both already have enough on your plate.

“Just know that you can tell me anything, okay? I’m your mother.”

“Of course,” you thinned your lips.

When you came back to your office, you were persistent on finishing, so you worked hard until the series of words soon became blurred and your brain couldn’t absorb any more information. When you looked at the clock, it was suddenly 7pm. You felt the tension in your shoulders, rolling them back, you knew you needed to reward yourself before you started on another department. You strolled into the break room and brewed a cup of tea and sat at one of the closer tables, you heard a text from your phone.

[ Jaek-ass: hey I made some food and stored it in the fridge again. Just reheat it when you come home ]

You haven’t changed his name from your contacts, you were going to leave it at that for a bit. Of course, he was gentle in caring for you when you were wasted, you could still feel the warmth of his arms around you. Also when he apologized and when he made you dinner, but despite all that, you were so guarded. You know he was trying, but the hurt that he caused you was blocking you from accepting it.

When you came home around 9, it seemed like Jaehyun was already in bed. He usually worked from home, but this week he was in the office. You envied how he always seemed to have it lucky, everything usually goes his way. You walked to the fridge to take out the container of food he prepared for you, this time it was macaroni and cheese. You chuckled as you set it in the microwave, you always ate this during your college days whenever you were pulling all-nighters. The taste brought you back to your old days.

You found your mind wandering to Jaehyun and his old days. You wondered where he went to think and process his thoughts, who were the friends that made him laugh and formed those dimples of his, you didn’t know a lot of things. Did he talk to Chaeyoung yet? You sighed, they had so much history. You knew you were intruding into their relationship, but this was a situation that you couldn’t help.

As you got ready for bed, you called Haewon for a little chat, before you moved in with Jaehyun, she would always come over and spend time with you. You missed her dearly, she was the crazy friend that always gave you a good time, but this time you wanted to talk seriously with her. You expressed to Haewon your concerns about letting your guards down and opening up to Jaehyun. She always knew you were guarded and always did her best to make you feel comfortable, but she felt like if you never let your walls down, there was going to be no one waiting for you. You huffed when she said that, all you wanted was to find someone for yourself… but maybe that person is you.

“Well, I’m going to head to bed. You probably have a busy work schedule too, so go to bed, I’ll talk to you later. Love you.” Haewon bid.

“You have no idea. Goodnight, love you,” you hung up the phone and threw yourself on the bed. It’s not like you can blame your parents for putting you in this position, this is all they know, they were put in this situation, and so were your grandparents. To be honest, it felt like a family curse.

When you woke up the next morning, Jaehyun had already left for work. Breakfast was stored and as you reheated it, you scrolled through your emails. The Designing Department had already sent digital images of rough drafts for the upcoming Spring-Summer collection. The designs didn’t look right, so you figured you’d have to go to their department today. You exhaled in annoyance, going down there meant that you weren’t able to work on the files, which means that everything you hoped to finish was going to be put back.

“Morning sweetie,” your mother greeted from her desk.

“Good morning mother, I have to go down to the Designing Department for a bit today, have my assistant call me if I'm needed.” you quickly set your bag and made your way.

You double-check your notes, making sure everything was ordered and organized. As the upcoming CEO, you had to have your life together. As the elevator doors open, you stride to the open doors that hold one of the most important assets of the company.

“Good morning, Ms. y/l/n.” everyone greeted you.

“Yes, good morning, everyone. Today we have a busy day, I went over the files that were sent to me and some adjustments need to be made. That being said, I want to work with the design processors first, we’ll get all of the designs done for the prototyping to begin today. Everyone, get to work!” You commanded, everyone dispersing into their job.

You walked over to where the processors were, they were in charge of designing the outfits. The colors, patterns, print, and proportion were all done by them. Several of them had their head buried in their desk, Park Chaeyoung. There she was, sitting in her desk, solely focused on her designs. Her head perked up once you towered over her.

“I heard you’re very good at designing-” you nodded at her drawings, “-may I take a look?”

“O-oh! Of course,” she handed you her stack of papers.

You quickly scanned her sketches, her lines were delicately drawn with preciseness and the patterns complimented the outfit, she unexpectedly met your expectations. One thing that bothered you was that the colors didn’t harmonize well together, instead, they clashed. Nonetheless, you were still impressed.

“They’re not bad,” you sighed, handing them back, “but I advise you not to play with the colors too much. The designs are very well drawn, but the colors clash too much. It makes it hard on the eye.” you advised her.

“Yes, Ms. Y/l/n, thank you for the advice.” Chaeyoung bowed her head.

You smiled back before drawing your attention to the rest of the team members. You went to each of them, making sure the designs were well correlated with the collection. You made sure to speak with every designer and ensure that everything corresponded. Every fabric, texture, detail, and sampling had to be perfect, there was no room to mess up.

By lunchtime, you weren’t as close to finishing as you wanted to be, but you can tell that you lacked effort from the designing team. You huffed in annoyance, “alright, everyone, thirty-minute lunch, please. Be back as soon as possible!” you demanded.

As you let the entire team to lunch, you sat and scanned over the designs again, ensuring everything was perfect enough to move on. You wrote corrections and notes here and there, so the processors knew what to revise and change.

Jaehyun sat in his office chair, fixated on the papers in front of him, his hair tousled, and his tie slightly loosened. Going over the accounting finances were a pain in the ass, he had to make sure everything was correct, and so far, they weren’t. The debits and credits were mixed up, even an elementary student could’ve figured it out. It wasn’t even better that he was meeting up with Chaeyoung at her place tonight. Jaehyun was going to clear things up with her and for once, he felt like he was doing the right thing.

Back at Audace, as soon as the department was back, it was time to get to work. You gave the processors a few minutes before beginning the prototyping process. Not only was designing hard but so was sewing. Everything had to fit together, the fabric needed to be embedded, and it had to be the fabric that the outfit was designed for. You glide the folded textile through the sewing machine, yarn connecting it into one. As you put the finished textile on the mannequin, you heard someone scolding. You turned your head to see the head department, Jieun, lecturing Chaeyoung as she held her head low. You walked over, hoping to alleviate the tension.

“You should know better! Even if Ms. Y/l/n gives you thirty minutes, you only have twenty minutes! We are launching our Spring-Summer collection. We don’t have time to be flexible, we don’t even have time for lun-”

“Everything alright here Jieun?” You raised a brow.

“Y-yes,-” she bowed, “-everything is okay.”

“Then let’s get back to work, we have a lot to do.”

You led the Designing Department through the whole process in making the outfits. Textiles were sewn, fabrics were slipped on the mannequin, and outfits were completed. You sighed after completing a few, the department still had a few more to go and it was almost the end of everyone’s shift. Your fingers flowed through the silky fabrics of one of the blouses you put together, you were putting your whole heart and soul into this collection, you had to impress society that you were made to be the next CEO. A ring from your phone suddenly distracted you from your thoughts.

“Hello?”

“Hey y/n,” it was Jaehyun.

“Hi, is everything okay?” It wasn’t usual for him to call you at all.

“Yeah, everything’s fine. I’m just letting you know that I won’t be home until later tonight,” he said.

“Oh, ok-” you paused, “-do you want me to leave you some dinner?”

“No, that’s okay. I know you’re busy with work, just get some sleep when you get home. I’ll eat when I’m done.” Jaehyun said.

“Okay,” you bid him goodbye and hung up the phone.

You could hear the fatigue and stress in his voice. Maybe he’s busy at work, hopefully, he gets some sleep. You didn’t want to meet an angry Jaehyun again. You eluded your thoughts and got back to work, you figured that you’d be working overtime also, so you did your best to rush with preciseness.

Jaehyun cleaned his desk, he grabbed his bag, ready to leave for Chaeyoung place. He hadn’t figured out what he was going to say to her, but he had a clear idea.

“Goodnight Mr. Jung,” his employees bowed as he passed them.

Once Jaehyun was driving on the road, his mind strayed to you. He wondered if you were okay at work, if you had a lot, and if you were taking breaks often. Jaehyun didn’t exactly know you, but he knew how stubborn you were, especially when it comes to work. You liked to plow through the work, you liked to get things done. Jaehyun sighed as his palms tightened on the steering wheel, he was nervous to talk to Chaeyoung. So many ‘what if’ scenarios flashed through his mind.

When Jaehyun pulled into Chaeyoung's parking lot, he felt his palm sweat. Uneasiness settled in his bones, he didn’t want to break her heart, he didn’t want to break the woman he loves. He’s already broken you, he didn’t want to break another, especially Chaeyoung. Jaehyun timidly walked up to her door, quietly knocking on it, hoping that the hush of it was heard.

“Jaehyun!” she pulled him in for a hug, shutting the door behind him.

“Hey,” Jaehyun gently pulled her away, “we need to talk.”

Chaeyoung pulled him to her couch, she sat and grasped his hand sensing the seriousness, “Is everything okay?”

“I-” Jaehyun rubbed his face, hoping it’d release some of the tension behind his expression, “-we need to stop.”

“What do you mean?” Chaeyoung’s voice quieted.

“This,” he pointed back and forth between them, “we need to end this.”

“W-why? Did I do something wrong?” Her voice weakened.

Silence drapes the room as Jaehyun sits across Chaeyoung. He knows he has to tell her the truth, that’s what she deserves, but her reaction made Jaehyun anxious. Would she hate me? What if she never wants to see me ever again? He couldn’t afford to lose her, but at the same time, the guilt ate him alive every time the image of you flashed in his head.

Jaehyun tangled his fingers through his hair. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong,” he exhales, “I’m engaged to someone.”

“What?” Chaeyoung’s eyes widen, “who?”

There was a long pause before Jaehyun can speak up, “Y/l/n Y/n,” he lowers his gaze at his fiddling hands.

“My boss? You’re engaged to my boss?” Chaeyoung stood up appalled.

“Please sit,” he begged.

She yanked her hand from his, “How? Why? Since when?”

“Since a while ago, we won’t be getting married until the summer. It’s for business, but honestly, I just don’t think my dad wants me to marry you,” he quietly scoffed, “Jung Corporation is a joint company with Audace.”

Chaeyoung’s head falls into the palm of her hand, “I hate you. How could you do this to me? Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“Because I wanted to be with you! But I’ve treated y/n like shit and now...I want to try this with her,” Jaehyun whispered the last part.

Chaeyoung sits in silence, before she releases a long-awaited sigh, “Please go,” she points to the door.

“Ch-Chaeyoung, please,” he pleaded.

“Get out, Jaehyun!”

So as much as Jaehyun wanted to stay he knew he had no choice but to leave, he knew that you were probably waiting at home for him. This is now over and he knows that it’s time to focus on fixing this up with you, but he can’t help but feel the pain in his chest. For such a long time, he’s waited for Chaeyoung to come back from the states and start a life with him. Of course, things never work out for him.

Before he drove home, Jaehyun drove to the edge of a cliff. The twinkling lights that lit the city helped him overlook his problems, it helps remind him his problems were only small. Jaehyun rested his head on the steering wheel, a choked cry came out, which grew into sobs about everything he’s done. Jaehyun wanted out, he didn’t want to be put through this, not anymore, but thought of you always reminded him that he wanted to be better. Even though he had you, his heart hurt for Chaeyoung, the memory of her crying, pointing out the door, telling him that she hated him would resonate in his mind.

When you got home, Jaehyun hadn’t made it back yet, usually, he’d be home around 5 if he was ever late. You shrugged it off, making your way to the kitchen making dinner, and turning on some music. You were making your favorite dish, pad thai. Hopefully, Jaehyun liked it too because you were going to pack a little for him.

The rice noodles that sauteed with the sauce and vegetables filled the kitchen with a delectable aroma. You set yourself a plate and a container for Jaehyun, leaving it uncapped to cool down. You sat by the table, munching on your dinner as you scrolled through your phone. You replied to text messages and emails that required your approval.

“Maybe I should just stay later,” you sighed. Since you spent the day in the Designing Department, you didn’t get the chance to work on any other department files. You rubbed your temples in frustration, you were going to have to bring them home. You were never fond of bringing work home, you cherished the moment you had after work because it was your time to relax and be at peace. Work was work and whatever work you had you left it in your office until the next day, but everything was so demanding now.

You didn’t want to think about it anymore, you set your phone down to enjoy the food in front of you, but you shortly heard the door open and a tired Jaehyun walked in. His hair was tousled, his tie was loose, and a couple of buttons were undone. His eyes held dark bags and were stained red, was he crying? Jaehyun looked at you curiously, to him, you looked overworked, considering you were still in your work clothes.

“I just got home,” you answered, it was like you read his mind, “I made some pad thai and packed it in the fridge, just give me a second-” you got up from your chair, making your way to the fridge, “-I’ll heat this up for you.”

“O-oh, you don’t have to. I can do that, just come finish your food.” Jaehyun stuttered.

“It’s okay,” you already had the pad thai on a plate and placed it in the microwave.

You set the warm food in front of Jaehyun who seated himself beside your chair. You watched him from the corner of your eye, you wanted to see his reaction.

“This is really good,” his eyes widened.

“You like it?” you asked.

“Yes, what is this?” Jaehyun asked, taking another bite.

“Pad thai,” you replied, “when I was younger, my family and I would often take trips to Thailand. One of the chefs taught me how to make it since I like it so much.”

Jaehyun nodded, continuing to eat as you quietly sat and finished yours. You offered to clean up and let him get ready for bed, but he was persistent in doing the cleaning, so you let him. You walked up to your room to get ready to shower, hoping that the hot water would release the tension in your shoulders. As it did, you couldn’t help but feel unsettled, you were typically good at giving people the cold shoulder, especially to Jaehyun, so why were you suddenly being considerate of him? You dug into your subconscious to see where your feelings were with him. You convinced yourself it was going to take time to forgive him, but your actions already said that you did. Colliding with your thoughts, you didn’t know who to listen to.

It was late and you wanted to leave for work early in the morning, but as you laid in bed, you couldn’t stop shuffling in your sheets. Your body was physically drained, but your mind was everywhere. Why did he come home late? Was he crying? Your brows furrowed. You remembered how he looked at you when he came in, for a split second you thought you saw heartbreak and regret in his eyes. Maybe he went to go talk to Chaeyoung. You sighed. Only your thoughts of tomorrow could confirm it.

So there you were, 5am, sitting in your office going through the files. With your tea beside you, the shuffling of papers swayed the steam coming from the cup, almost cooling it down.

By the time your mother came in, you had finished the Marketing Department’s files. “You’re here early. When did you come?” Your mother set her bag on her desk.

“5,” you said, grabbing the files leaving the office.

You stood alone in the elevator, employees coming and going. On the 5th floor, Chaeyoung stood wide-eyed as the doors opened to the sight of you. She bowed and quickly came in, standing a few feet from you, you saw how she tightly held onto the files in her hands. You figured she had to drop some paperwork off at another apartment, but your assumptions stood true, Chaeyoung’s eyes were swollen, bags shadowed beneath her eyes. She looked like she hadn’t slept in days, even though you saw her yesterday.

The two of you stood silent until the 4th floor was met, you nodded to her and left for the Marketing Department. On your stroll there, you could hear whispers occurring as you passed by. The Marketing Department was notorious for gossiping, they knew many of the present trends and updated buzz. Usually, they spoke about you, but a familiar name was called and you slightly stiffened.

“Did you see the pictures of Jaehyun at the after-party?” one of them said.

“No, show me!” another begged.

“They’re blurry, but isn’t he handsome???” the girl gawked.

“Who’s that girl he’s carrying?” another asked, frustration glazing her question.

“I’m not sure, but I’ll figure it out. I always do,” the girl chuckled.

Your eyes widened as you realized that girl they were referring to was you. You quicken your strides to the head office, you quickly drop it off to make your way back to your office, avoiding the girls. You panted as you fell into your chair, you weren’t aware that you were holding your breath through all of that.

“Are you okay?” Your mother noticed your thwarted expression.

“Yeah,” you sighed, getting back to work.

As you worked on your files, you lost track of time as your focus was solely on completing them. Your mind was distracted the second your secretary stood in front of your desk.

“Can I help you?” You asked, your focus not leaving the papers in front of you.

“Ms. y/l/n, someone is here for you.” She said.

“Unless they have an appointment, I don’t have time to talk.”

“M-Ms. y/l/n,” your secretary hesitated, “it’s Mr. Jung.”

You sighed, looking at the clock. You hadn’t realized it was already noon. Why is Jaehyun here? “Let him in.”

Your gaze avoided the door to your office, you didn’t want him to think you were waiting for him. When Jaehyun walked in, he was dressed in a dark grey suit, his tie well done, his hair slicked back, he looked rather composed, unlike last night.

“Hi, I hope you’re not too busy,” Jaehyun walked up to your desk, you could smell the cologne he always wore. It held a clean, wood, and rich scent like it was made solely for him.

“Just a little bit, is everything okay?” You quietly asked.

“Yeah,” he sat down in one of the seats in front of you, “I was wondering if you have time for lunch.” He enjoyed the moment last night as you two ate, so he wanted to have lunch with you today.

Oh...Your eyes slightly widen, you didn’t know if you were excited or surprised. “I have time,” you nodded.

“Great, I don’t know what you like so I just brought some kimbap that I made,” Jaehyun’s lips pressed together.

“That’s okay, I like it.” You reached to grab one and popped it in your mouth.

Before you could grab another, your mother marched in, “Honey, I’m ba-OH! Mr. Jung, I wasn’t aware you were coming. I’ll leave you two be.” she quickly ran out.

“No, mother it’s okay!” You begged, anticipating the awkward tension between you two, but she was quick to leave. “Sorry about that,” you commented, lowering back into your seat.

“That’s okay,” Jaehyun chuckled, you saw those dimples and his whiskers again, it sent jitters to your spine. “What are you working on?” he nodded at the papers in front of you.

“Um-” you looked at your files, “-just approving the departments’ files. We’re coming out with a new Spring-Summer collection, so they need my approval for several things.”

“That’s a lot. When do they need it?”

“By the end of the week, I usually finish by Thursday but it looks like I’m going to have to bring some home so I can just finish on time,” your smile fell when you realized who was standing at the door.

Jaehyun picked up on your expression and turned around in his seat, “Ch-Chaeyoung.”

It felt as if time had slowed down, the three of you stood still in your places. None of you said a word and let the unsettling feeling resonate in each other’s bones. The silence blanketed the room and brought tension between everyone.

You held your breath before speaking up, “What is it Chaeyoung?” you asked.

“Your secretary wasn’t at her desk and I needed to drop these off as soon as possible, they need your approval.” She walked towards your desk and gently set them on your desk.

You thank her as she bows and leaves, Jaehyun’s gaze never leaving her figure. You felt your stomach lightly drop, was it the kimbap? Or were you flustered, hot, and maybe a little jealous? Nope.

You cleared your throat, earning Jaehyun’s attention, “I’m full and I have a lot to do, so I’ll see you at home.” you said, this was a way of forcing him out of your office.

“Y/n,” Jaehyun’s head fell to the side.

“I don’t want to know Jaehyun. Whatever you have with her is your issue,” you opened the doors to your office, “please leave.” you did your best at keeping your composure together.

“Y/n, I ended things with her.” Jaehyun’s palms fell in front of you in reason.

“Please, Jaehyun,” you gulped, “go.”

#nct jaehyun #jaehyun angst #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun series #jaehyun au #jung jaehyun au #jaehyun scenarios #nct imagines #nct127 imagines #nct 127 au #jaehyun nct au #jaehyun #nct au #jung jaehyun scenarios

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strongsassysexysloane · 4 years ago

Note

35. “How long has it been since you’ve last slept?”

Could you do that? because i really like your stories

Who Needs Sleep?

A/N:- Thank you! A few ways this one could've gone but I decided to go with humour over angst. Like I do in my real life...

Sum-: Long days, no sleep but lucky for you there's a light at the end of the tunnel... That light being Jack.

. . . .

The days had been too long that they had melted into one big long exhausting one. It was Monday yesterday? No, yesterday was definitely Thursday.

The thought of yawning made you yawn, saying it made you yawn so you yawned, stretching back into your chair, lifting your arms above your head making you feel a little lightheaded. You sound around to find your water bottle.

"Woah, there." Jack jumped back, narrowly avoiding your hand hitting her face so you quickly retracted.

"Sorry, Jack."

She smiled, stepping back in close now that there was no chance of getting hit. "It's ok." She leant down and placed a kiss to your lips.

You welcomed her with a hum, cupping her cheek to keep her there a second longer but it was broken by a yawn.

She laughed against your lips. "How long has it been since you last slept?" She stood up, watching you closely. Her concern evident as she scanned your features, noting the darker shadow under your eyes. "Did you even go back to your place last night?"

"There was a night?"

That made her concern considerably worse. She clearly wasn't in a joking mood.

"I'm kidding, baby. I went home at around midnight, just needed to follow up something and got a few hours sleep before my brain decided it needed to figure the rest of that something out."

She shook her head in response to your nonsense with a smirk. "Did you at least figure it out?"

You lifted up a finger. "Not yet." You deflated and sagged into your chair.

"But you will." She ran her hand over your hair and cupped your cheek which you leaned into, placing a kiss to her palm.

"I will." You nodded.

"The you can sleep with me tonight." She promised just as the elevator dinged.

You both poked your heads to see and Nick and Tim walked out talking about something.

"Yes?"

You looked back at her confused. "Huh? Oh right, your place. Yes. Definitely." You smiled and puckered your lips drawing her back down.

She smiled into the quick kiss as the boys walked in.

"Morning you two." Tim smiled at you both as he walked past to his desk.

"Morning." You answered as you broke apart.

She turned to greet them. "Morning boys." Then back to you. "I'll see you later."

You grinned and then a light bulb went off. Your eyes lit up alerting Jack of your sudden realisation, causing her to laugh.

"Glad to have helped."

"If only your kisses could stop the crimes in the first place."

"I'm good but I'm not that good."

Her sass bringing an even bigger grin to your lips. "You're pretty darn close, Jacqueline."

Her eyes darkened instantly at the use of her last name and the tone that you never used at work.

For good reason.

She didn't say anything, just a wink and headed up to her office. Tonight was going to be fun.

. . . .

#ncis #jack sloane x reader #ncis reader insert #ncis x reader #jack sloane #jacqueline sloane #fem!reader

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welllpthisishappening · 4 years ago

Text

First-Line Defensive Pairing

Of all the things they’d done in the last few months, spending the afternoon at the Museum of Ice Cream was one of the more ridiculous. Mostly because of the wooden spoons they gave out on the tour. Partially because it seemed Will Scarlet could not stop casting furtive glances at Belle French. Or the heels that always matched her dresses. Maybe because she kept answering his hypothetical questions. And maybe even because he was willing to drift far closer to genuine these days. At least when it came to his feelings for her.

��———

Word Count: 3.7K AN: Take two! Ok, so apparently yesterday when I posted this Tumblr thought it’d be a really cool idea to just...reformat the entire story. With whole graphs in totally wrong spots. Anyway, here it is again. Just as ridiculous as yesterday. With just as many Will and Belle emotions. Because that’s a thing I’m doing now, apparently. Writing Blue Line-era Will and Belle. If you’d like more of these flirt-prone idiots, here is their first date and Belle getting annoyed that Will fought someone on the ice. Technically, this was part of the kiss prompts and was “height difference kisses.” I hope the five of you who are interested in this enjoy it. That includes @shireness-says and @eleveneitherway who are mostly to blame for this.

————

“I’m going to ask you a hypothetical question.”

Belle lifted her eyebrows. Let some of that light creep back in her gaze, a flash of amusement that regularly made Will’s stomach leap dangerously close to the base of his ribs. That’s why he did it. Maybe not the rib thing, partially because he wasn’t even sure that was the correct technical term. The rest of it, though. The eye thing. Sure. Definitely. One-hundred percent. Why he’d also made sure the little wooden spoon they’d been given at the start of this tour was still in the corner of his mouth; to guarantee absolute absurdity, and he figured that started when they decided to spend their afternoon at the Museum of Ice Cream, but he was willing to take it all a step further.

In the absurdity factor, at least.

Other things were—

Well, it wasn’t as if they explicitly decided to keep the relationship a secret. Not on purpose. Not really. Or come to any sort of legitimate agreement regarding the use of the word relationship. It never seemed...important, honestly. And that was a potentially problematic and lackadaisical approach to someone who made Will smile with an almost alarming consistency in the last few months, but she’d also sort of snuck up on him, and Ariel was going to be so annoying.

About the whole goddamn thing.

She’d never shut up about it, he knew.

So he didn’t push. Belle didn’t, either. An unspoken agreement, that’s what it was. He had other things to do, anyway. Like get ready for a playoff run and ignore the lingering ache in his calves after the echo of Arthur’s whistle stopped ringing in his ears, and, ok, his apartment was starting to feel a little bit larger than it had in a long time, maybe since Killian had moved out, but that was fine. Cup runs did not come because someone was in a relationship. Will had seen that first hand. With Cap, of all people.

Watched the way his whole life had fallen apart around his ankles, little shards of hope and possibility that, Will knew, still threatened the structural integrity of Kilian’s internal organs and all four ventricles of his heart, and he did not understand enough basic biology to be making those sorts of sweeping observations, but Robin had lost someone too and that had been horrible and tragic and—

If Will simply did not want to jinx things, then that was neither here nor there.

Relationship’y speaking.

It was good. They were good. He hated the wooden spoon they gave them to taste test half a dozen ice cream flavors.

He was legitimately worried about getting splinters in his tongue.

No excuses could possibly reason away that problem pre-game.

Belle’s eyebrows were still in the same spot. “You going to follow up on that, or…” “Would you burn a Gutenberg Bible? To stave off the apocalypse and or potential frostbite?” “Those two things go together, do they?” He shrugged. “In this instance, yeah, because—” “—Well, it wouldn’t matter,” Belle said, eyes flitting towards the overly enthusiastic tour guide and the seemingly never-ending history of ice cream, “because I wouldn’t allow myself to be in that position. And I don’t live anywhere near the Public Library. What would I be doing there when the freeze-wave came?” His stomach. Did that thing. Jumped and twisted, got a ten from the Russian judge on its floor routine. He was cautiously optimistic he’d be able to pull off a flawless beam performance too. It was an exceedingly convoluted metaphor. Wrong Olympics, too.

“Does salt air give you mind-reading powers?” “You’re not nearly as subtle as you think you are,” Belle grinned. Moving her hand faster than he was entirely prepared for ensured that he nearly dropped his small plastic cup of churro churro ice cream. He made noise. Without trying. A hiss and a grunt in the back of his throat that then led to a sound escaping between Belle’s half-hearted scowl, and that sound was closer to a giggle than either of them would ever admit and just enough to mess with his mental faculties a little and the tour guide stopped talking. To stare straight at them.

Color lifted on Belle’s cheeks, ice cream-covered spoon held awkwardly between them.

“As you were, ma’am,” Will said, all false bravado, and that was something of a trend. In several different capacities. It was far too depressing a thought to have while eating cinnamon-flavored ice cream.

Belle elbowed him.

And the tour guide got back to her to spiel. Without a reprimand.

“Say freeze-wave again without laughing.”

Her eyelashes were more of a problem, honestly. Than the eyebrows. Or the specific jut of her chin Will had rather quickly learned meant she was ready to challenge him on some ridiculous topic, fully prepared to argue a position she might not have otherwise agreed with. Only because it wasn’t what he was arguing, and it was easy to understand why she won that Model UN award.

Plus, her eyelashes were just stupid long, and he thought she was really pretty.

Like in a fundamental sort of way.

“Freeze-wave,” Belle enunciated, pausing between syllables for maximum effect, “are you asking me Day After Tomorrow questions because of the ice cream, because I’m a librarian or because you’re the strangest man alive?” She finally ate the rest of the ice cream. It was starting to melt, that was why. This was very melt-prone ice cream. “Oh, shit,” she mumbled, “this is really good. Better than mine.” Something popped in his shoulder when he reached towards her plastic cup. He wouldn’t tell Ariel about that, either.

“Which kind is—” Fighting off the objections of a small librarian who resolutely refused to wear anything except heels, no matter what the weather was like, was not usually as difficult as it was in that moment. Will assumed it had something to do with sugar. Or the force of his smile. Robbing the rest of him of energy and the ability to fend off either one of Belle’s fists. “Why are you like this?” “You didn’t want to try peanut and pretzel. With peanut butter swirl.” “Swallowed the flyer for this place while I wasn’t looking, huh?” Sticking her tongue out was distracting. Almost enough that he didn’t notice the absolutely atrocious attempt at impersonating his voice. “Oh, no, no, babe, I don’t want that; you can get peanut butter anywhere. That’s not special.” “Well, it’s not.” “I’m a big fancy hockey player, and I know everything there is to know about ice cream flavors and the potential life-changing palette moment that comes from the sublime combination of salty and sweet.” “Oh, now you’re just taunting me.” Her eyes narrowed, that time. His smile was going to permanently stretch out his cheeks. “You have a disgusting mind.” “You can’t get churro ice cream everywhere, babe.” “I’m going back to get honey later.” Will hummed. Stuck his lower lip out. Noticed that flash return. And hoarded it. Like a relationship—

Ah, fuck.

“Would you burn the Gutenberg Bible?” Her laugh was quickly becoming his favorite sound. Which wasn’t bad, per se. Was just kind of passably concerning. God damn. It was the heels. All of them kept matching the dresses she wore. She kept wearing dresses.

Of course, that was going to mess with Will’s head.

Belle shook her head. “No.” “Historical significance?” “Well, once again, I would not be in that position, would have listened to science and fled to warmer climates, so as not to make myself prey for escaped...what were they? Tigers?” “I honestly can’t remember,” Will admitted.

“This was your hypothetical!”

Heads snapped their direction. Frustration creased the tour guide’s forehead, and they’d paid extra to learn about the history of ice cream. Will had already known about the origins of the ice cream cone, though. So, the whole thing felt almost like a raw deal, and he was far more interested in preserving the color in Belle’s cheeks. He saluted. Who he was saluting was anyone’s guess, but it very likely was the otherwise unengaged teenage kid trudging behind his family who absolutely recognized Will.

“That’s going to end up on sixteen different social media sites,” Belle warned, not quite able to get her voice to an appropriate whispering level.

“So long as he got my good side, you won’t hear me complaining.” “Do you have a good side?”

“Sweetheart, the self-confidence. God.” She squeezed her eyes shut. While practically beaming at him, and Will had to bend his knees to reach, something else creaking in the process, but that was fine, and good, and pretty goddamn fantastic because her lips tasted a bit like chocolate.

“‘S’not your best work,” Belle mumbled, almost entirely into his mouth.

“Brain freeze.” “I would burn no books. That’s my final hypothetical answer.” Her eyelashes must have existed purely to torment him. Leaning back made it clear when they fluttered back open, and he swore there were flecks of gold in her eyes. Maybe he was melting, too. With the ice cream. That was almost poetic. “None at all? What if you were going to die?” “Maudlin.” “I don’t know what that means.” “Liar,” she challenged, another smile tugging at her mouth, and Will was clearly staring at her mouth. Stained slightly with chocolate, as it was. “I stand by it, though. The book stuff, not the commentary on your burgeoning intelligence.” “You want to find a corner to go and make out in?” Different laugh. The kind that came with her head thrown back, hair tickling Will’s forearm because at some point his arm had found its way around her, and touching Belle was becoming something almost close to second nature. “I could keep complimenting you if you want,” Belle said, “or I could give you my reason for not burning books.” “You’re a giant nerd, that’s why.” She clicked her tongue. “Very, very cute nerd, though.” “Betcha say that to all the girls.”

His stomach stilled. Dropped a few inches, for good measure. Below where it was supposed to be, and inching dangerously close to his feet, and what Will could not imagine was a very sanitary floor. The Museum of Ice Cream had a giant sprinkle pit. Nothing about that seemed very sanitary.

“I think stories have a purpose,” Belle said, still not quite whispering but definitely getting there, and he knew. Knew she knew. What he was thinking and feeling and unspoken understanding was quickly becoming the name of this particular game. With them.

Where it wasn’t a game at all.

Damn.

Ariel was going to be so annoying.

“No matter what they are. Shitty as they can be, all those ups and downs, and ridiculous, often unnecessary melodrama. It’s going to matter to somebody. Someone, somewhere, will be living their life and read those words or see those letters, and they’ll think, wow, whoever wrote this, gets me, and it will change everything for them. They’ll go back to it. Find solace and safety in it. Themselves, maybe. They’ll believe everything will be ok. Even if they only think that while they’re reading.” “Don’t forget audiobooks,” Will muttered, voice strangled and tinged with emotion. In the ice cream museum. Figured, honestly.

Belle pinched the side of his wrist.

“Ow. Avoid the bruise further up, please.” “Did you get hit?” Nodding took more energy than it should have, too. She hadn’t been to a game. He hadn’t asked her. What an idiot. “Not bad though, that’s just—” “—Par for the course.” “Mixing idioms, mon trésor.” “Oh, I got that one, actually.” “Slow pitch softball, that’s why,” Will reasoned, some of the tension he wasn’t especially pleased by loosening.

“I think we’re on a roll now.” He hummed. Nodded, again. Curled his fingers into the back of Belle’s dress. Blue, that afternoon. With matching heels. “It all matters,” she added, soft and earnest, and his eyes snapped. To her and with her and that second one didn’t make sense, not really, but he was and wanted to be and that absolutely terrified him.

Of it all falling apart again. Of it not being enough.

He wasn’t enough.

A story no one was ever all that interested in finishing.

“You think?” Belle nodded. “Why’d you start playing hockey?” “Quite a transition.” “Tit for tat, or—no, no, c’mon don’t look at me like that.” Red stained her cheeks, now. Making it difficult to concentrate on anything else, although the desire to kiss her again was a fairly strong second, and that kid was taking more pictures. “That’s not fair.” “You’ve brought this on yourself, babe,” Will argued, and he hoped Lucas didn’t yell. At him. He’d never really listened to the social media rules. “It’s a very long, occasionally depressing story about a kid and his single mom, the second of whom often worked her ass off and her fingers to the bone, and all those other delightfully visual clichés. But then! Who would guess, she got a job picking up extra shifts cleaning at the rink in town. Home to the world’s shittiest ice and loudest Zamboni, it instantly drew the attention of our kid-like hero.

“He was...infatuated, let’s say. With the sounds, especially. Nothing sounds like that first scrape of skates on fresh ice. Full of possibility, you know?” Belle didn’t answer. Will kept talking. “Best noise in the world. And then he learned there were other noises. Pucks hitting the back of nets. Sticks clanging together. Grunts and groans and the game itself, how loud it was. Helped silence some of his thoughts, none of which were ever very good. Lots of worries, some about his very dead sister, then a few more about that mother and her predilection toward clichés.”

“Good word,” Belle murmured. He kissed the top of her hair. The kid was openly staring at them, now.

“Anyway, the crux of the story is that the guy who owned the rink agreed to let the kid play on the rink. Knew the mother, understood her situation, and hockey is expensive. Like, well, we spout all that bullshit about hockey is for everyone, and I’ve got to stand up there and smile and nod and agree, and it’s fucked up because it’s not really true. Hockey’s for rich kids and families with regularly functioning alternators in their car.”

He shook his head. Had to. To chase away the memories and the cobwebs, and Cap knew this, too. Understood it, even. Remembered a life before the Vanklads, and not every kid got the Vankalds, and sometimes Will let himself wonder what would have happened if he’d found the Vanklads. Or their upstate New York equivalent.

Gotten better shin pads, probably.

“Hockey’s an exclusive sorta club,” Will continued, “gotta know someone who’s related to someone else, and they know someone who played, and it’s six degrees of increasingly desperate separation. By some lucky twist of fate, though, Jimmy Newell knew some bastard who knew somebody else, who saw me play, and you don’t say no to USA Developmental. Spent two years in Minnesota, way before Cap did, so he doesn’t get to claim that state as his own.” Belle’s lips twitched. “Good to know, for argument’s sake.” His stomach was becoming a problem.

Heart, too.

Sputtering and slamming, uneven beats that were going to leave another bruise. Will licked his lips.

“I went to Developmental, declared for the draft, got picked by New York, went to college, stayed in college, and the rest is history. As they say.” “They do say that, yeah.” “What’s the next question, then?” “How do you know there’s another question?” “Shot in the dark,” Will shrugged, but that was a lie, and it was getting increasingly easier to read that pinch between her eyebrows. “So, hit me.” “Literally?” “Please do not literally hit me. Locksley’s been feeling the forecheck the last couple’a practices.” “I know what that means!” Someone shushed them. Will couldn’t imagine the color will ever leave Belle’s cheeks.

He kissed the bridge of her nose.

“Who’d you get to teach you French?” “Who said I didn’t just learn French on my own?” “Babe,” she chided, and, well, that was the tipping point. As they say. To his heart and his stomach and—

“You wanna come to a game this series?” Belle blinked. Once, twice. Leaned back. Tilted her head. Likely waited for the camera crew that was inevitably lurking in the corner he was cautiously optimistic they’d make out in eventually. Didn’t happen, though. There was no camera crew.

Just Will Scarlet, professional hockey player, and part-time sap. Standing in one of the more nonsensical museums they’d been to in the last two months. Although they did go to the transit museum on three separate occasions, and he could honestly say he didn’t expect that.

So, maybe this was all just—

Par for the course.

He’d have to make some sort of deal with Eric. To make sure Ariel didn’t proclaim her relationship-plotting victories from a variety of rooftops. Someone in front office had to know someone else with Empire State Building connections.

Zelena probably did.

Ariel would use that.

“Where would I sit?”

He pulled her. Up. With an almost violent amount of force, threatening the safety of both of Belle’s shoulders in the process. But she’d asked the one question he hadn’t totally considered in his half-plotted plan, and getting his mouth back on hers was an acceptable diversion. Plus, she looped her arms around his neck pretty quickly.

Which had to count for something, he figured.

One hand cupped the back of his head, pulling him closer. Like he had any intention of being anywhere else, swiping his tongue against Belle’s lip and swallowing her sigh. They were still in public, technically. Her feet trailed the multi-color carpet beneath them, Will’s arms tightening and his palm flat against her back and her spine, and if she kept rocking up like that, he was going to do something drastic.

Something in the same realm as melting, probably.

Strands of hair tickled his skin, making him tilt his head and alter the angle, and that was entirely appropriate, but getting kicked out of the Museum of Ice Cream would probably make an absolutely fantastic story. Once they told people they were—

Doing whatever it was they were doing.

They’d get there eventually.

“Cap’s sister-in-law is coming,” Will said, not entirely able to catch his breath, “wants to see Kris and—” “—Should I know who that is?” “Works in equipment, and that’s not really the point.” “What is?” “That Little Vankald isn’t super interested in listening to Cap be full older brother on her and, far as I know, is fully capable of getting tickets wherever she wants. Can sweet talk the gold out of anyone’s pockets, and—” “—Wait, wait, are you equating hockey tickets to gold?” “When I’m playing, ma choupette.” “Is that cabbage?” He hummed. Nearly tripped over his own feet trying to hold onto Belle and the mostly melted cup of ice cream and paying for more churro ice cream made perfect sense. At the moment. “One of the kids at school was French Canadian,” Will explained, “used to swear all the time on the ice, and then he’d use stuff like that.” “You’re sharing endearments with a trash talker.” “More or less, yeah. Used to infuriate other guys.” “Who wants to be called a cabbage?” “I think you’re super cute.” Belle scowled. Didn’t argue, though. And Will refused to linger on the beat of his pulse. “I’d really like it if you were there,” he added, “Little Vanklad’ll be cool about it. She owes me. I fed her for a very long time.” “Did you just?” “I make incredible garlic bread; ask anyone.” “Wow,” Belle drawled, “just like people on the street, or…also, do you call her Little Vanklad all the time?” “To her face and behind her back with startling regularity. Not everyone gets my French endearments, babe. Consider yourself lucky.”

She scrunched her nose.

Stayed silent. All Will could hear was the soft explanations of the tour guide, and the questions from tourists who probably also thought going to the Museum of Sex made them edgy. After they bought a STRAND tote bag. God, maybe he was a dick. A judgmental dick, who still had too many thoughts and used an occasionally violent game to silence them by making sure he was the one dictating the noises and the trash talk and—

“Hey, uh, Will...Mr., uh—Mr. Scarlet? Do you think we could get a picture?”

Belle’s lips disappeared. Behind her teeth, and that didn’t do anything to temper the sound of what might have actually been joy. At the prospect of the staring teenager and his photo request.

In the goddamn Museum of Ice Cream.

Giving a jerky nod, Will quickly scanned the kid for any team-branded, but it didn’t look like he was wearing merch and that was a rather small miracle. Far as those things went.

Still, he had been in the middle of a pretty intense internal dialogue and potential freakout, and there was going to be ice cream on his hand if he didn’t throw this cup away.

Belle took the phone.

The kid’s phone.

“Smile,” she instructed, and Will tried. Really. He hoped he didn’t end up looking like a murderer on Twitter or Instagram or whatever kids used, and he had no idea when he got that old. When things started to freak him out, and he let the nerves claw back in, and the worry take root and—

“Hey,” he said before the kid could walk back to his parents and their matching STRAND tote bags. “You think you could take a picture of us, real quick?”

No one had ever moved faster.

In, like, the history of photography.

Circling an arm around Belle’s waist, Will’s smile came a bit easier and that was good because he was totally unprepared for what happened after that. Another instruction and flick of someone’s thumb, but then Belle was on her toes, even with the heels, and her lips were pressed against his cheek and it was like some sort of really exceptional sugar high.

Without the threat of inevitable crash.

Will didn’t think so, at least. He was also pretty positive it wasn’t tigers in The Day After Tomorrow. Wolves, maybe.

“Tell Little Vankald to save me a seat.” “I mean, I don’t think you should call her that.”

Her teeth grazed his jaw. Both of them were laughing in the picture, the kid’s eyes going impossibly wide as Will thanked him. “How hard you think it is to set up an Instagram account?”

#scarlet beauty #scarlet beauty ff #scarlet beauty fic #will x belle #blue line one shots #what did i use yesterday as my tag for this?#so as not to also confuse it with the au of the au staring will scarlet?#defensive!blue line #that wasn't it but it is now #anyway these have been real fun to write #because as we all know i am certified trash for alternate stories in the same 'verse #also giving belle a personality finally is a delight #seriously i hope the five people interested in this enjoy it

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gubes-sweaters · 4 years ago

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Never Be the Same (part 2)

Author's Note: This is part two to the once shot I wrote called Never be the Same. I honestly didn't like the one shot, and I was surprised by the overwhelmingly positive reaction. A lot of people on Tumblr wanted a part two so here it is. I’ve re-written this like three times and this ending I’m semi happy with. Also, don't worry there's a cute fluffy ending.

Content Warning: Arguing, idk just really sad for like half of the story.

Word Count: 2.8k

Never be the Same (part 2): You Have Us

I wake up in a cold and empty bed the next morning. The blankets on Spencer’s side of the bed are still made, so he didn’t come home last night. The sun is stinging my already burning eyes from crying all last night. What did I do? Can we come back from this? I can’t call him and I have no clue where he’s at. I start to get worried to the point that I’m nauseous. I haven't been feeling very good as of late, but I'm chopping it up to the stress of Spencer coming home. I’m trying to think that this feeling in the pit of my stomach as of late is because of how he distanced himself. At first, he wouldn’t keep his hands off me, and he followed me around literally everywhere. Once week three of him being home rolled around, and he started teaching I became a second class citizen. I’m not sure what the freak out was about yesterday because after Spencer got home we didn't have any problems with sex. I mean it only happened once a day or two after he got home, but I thought because it already happened that it would come naturally to us once again.

There's this feeling of nauseousness in the pit of my stomach as I feel the bile rise in the back of my throat. I quickly run to the bathroom and release all of my food from last night. After a minute I can finally pull myself off of the ground and brush my teeth. As I go to brush my teeth a little part of my brain remembers a similar situation I was in about a month before Spencer went to prison.

-Flashback-

“Hey, are you okay?” Spencer consoles me as I’m hunched over the toilet. Despite being a germophobe he insists it’s okay because I need help.

“Yeah I might’ve picked up a stomach bug from work,” I say with my head resting on his shoulder.

He pulls me into a tight embrace before helping me off the ground. I walk over to the sink and go to brush my teeth, but as I do Spencer puts his hand over mine and shakes his head at me.

“You shouldn’t brush your teeth right after you throw up. Just gargle some mouthwash it’ll have the same effect except you’re not brushing the acid into your teeth and gum line.”

“What would I do without you.”

“Probably have problems with plaque,” he says before kissing the crown of my head.

-End of Flashback-

I took Spencer’s advice from a while ago and went to use mouthwash but I couldn't find any. I check the medicine cabinet, a cabinet where we tend to keep extra toiletries for his go-bag, and finally, I check in the cupboard underneath the sink. When I grab the mouth wash I also knock over a small box. I pick it up and I’m reminded of the same day as the mouthwash memory. That day I've never seen Spencer as anxious, excited, and happy.

-Flashback-

“Are you sure? I think you’re being a little over dramatic,”

“I'm completely sure that we should at least check. Between your nauseousness, acid reflux, fatigue, vertigo, and now you’ve missed your cycle twice. I think we have reasons to be at least a little suspicious. Please just take the test for me,” He says while passing me the box with two tests in it.

“Fine, but I don’t think I’m pregnant. So don't get your hopes up,” I say before walking to the bathroom.

I take one of the two tests and Spencer and I wait the ten excruciatingly long minutes. Eventually, the timer went off, and we just stared at each other silently begging the other one to look. Eventually, I conceded because I'm super impatient. I picked up the stick and there was only one line there wasn't even a faint tiny second line.

“As disappointed as I'm sure we both are, we have time. This means that we can both do some pre-planning for our little genius.” I tell him with a sad look on my face reflecting the same look Spencer has on his face.

He just nods in silence. I can tell this really hurt him. Partly because he was so sure, and he's not one to be wrong normally. I can tell that he's mostly disappointed that I wasn't pregnant because he wants to be a father so bad. At least he took my advice for taking this time to plan very seriously. He came home the next day with three baby books which he read them all before I even finished cooking dinner.

-End of Flashback-

That same feeling Spencer had that I lacked the first time I took one of these tests is now very present, but this time I'm the one with the feeling. Something in my gut is telling me to take this test. It’s really stupid because I don't want to worry about my boyfriend and a baby. This couldn't be a more inconvenient time. I'm not on birth control because I've had a bad reaction to the pill in the past, so it’s possible. My heart is telling me, yes, but my brain is telling me no that I'm stupid and I should be worrying about Spencer right now. I go against my brain's wishes and I take the test. In the meantime, while I'm waiting for the test results I set a ten-minute timer, and then I call JJ. We've been friends for a long time now, and she's the reason I met Spencer. When it rings through I assume she’s busy, so I decide to call Garcia instead.

“What's up sugar plum?”

“Hey Pen I hate to ask this of you, but I'm really worried about Spencer. I know he always leaves the house with his work cell no matter what. He left last night and hasn't been home since. I'm worried about him. Can you at least tell me if he's okay?”

“Of course doll. Give me a moment. Is everything alright between you two?” she asks while her fingers were furiously typing away at her keyboard.

“Yeah, just a little bit of a disagreement, nothing to write home about.”

“Okie Dokie his work cell first pinged off a cell tower near Morgan's house, then pinged off a tower near a bar down the street, then finally he’s been at Morgan’s ever since. Is that all I can help you with?”

“Yes, thank you! I owe you one.”

“Oh please sugar the pleasure is all mine.” She says in a flirty tone before hanging up.

Next on the agenda is to call Morgan. I know him pretty well because I was dating Spencer for a couple of years before he retired from the BAU to be with his son. I call Morgan but it rings through. I decide that I might get better results if I talk to Savannah.

“Hey girly! Let me guess you want your boyfriend back;” She says in a goofy tone.

“Huh?”

“Spencer came here last night and said he needed to blow off some steam. He, Derek, and Hank went down to the park about half an hour ago. He didn't look upset at all today or yesterday, so I don't know what he means by blowing off some steam. Either way, he and Morgan have been all smiles all day. I figured something was off because he came here with tears in his eyes, but he hasn’t been crying since-”

Beep

The alarm interrupted both of our thoughts. I walk over to the test as I stammer out a sentence if you can even call it that. With a shaky hand, I pick up the test and look at the stick with two very defined pink lines.

“Hey...hey...um can I come over and talk to Spencer there. We had a bit of a disagreement last night. I think it would be best if someone like Morgan with a level head was there. Only if it’s okay I don’t want to intrude,” I say, my voice and hands shaking as my eyes start to well with tears.

“Nonsense you’re always welcome at our house. Any time of day I'll let the both of them know you’re coming over once they’re back from the park.”

“O--okay I'll see you in a bit,” I say before hanging up.

I decide that I need to calm myself down before driving far out to Morgan’s house. I go to the dollar store not far from our apartment and decide to take two more tests just in case. I also took this time to collect my thoughts and come to terms with the fact that I’m pregnant. Holy shit I’m pregnant! Sure enough, both tests also came back positive. There’s only one possible time it could’ve happened so that means I’m ten going on eleven weeks along.

I drive to Morgan and Savannah's house with two of the three tests in my purse. This isn't the perfect time but I hope that Spencer will hear the good news and the old Spencer might come back to me at least part of him. I take a deep breath as I put my car in park, preparing myself for the worst and best possible situations. As I knock on the door I can feel my heart speed up faster and faster. The door opens to Savannah with a big smile plastered on her face.

“Hey, it’s nice to see you. I’ve missed you so much and I'm sure Morgan does too.” She says before stepping to the side and welcoming me inside.

“It's nice to see you too. Spencer isn't upset is he?”

“No, he's actually sitting with Hank in the living room. He and Morgan have watched Hank trip over his feet for the past hour.”

We both walk into the living room and sure enough, the sight is enough to melt anybody’s heart. Hank uses the coffee table for balance, and he's walking back and forth between Spencer and Morgan.

They both look up after Hank falls on his butt once more. Spencer gives me a tight-lipped smile and Morgan picks up Hank before walking over to me.

”Spencer explained what happened. He doesn't know how to apologize for being so defensive and scared. Be a little lenient on him.” he tells me in a very calm and patient voice. The type of voice that a father should have. I baby talk hank and take in how much he's grown in a short amount of time before making my way over to Spencer. Savannah and Morgan leave the room monetarily and I sit next to Spencer in an awkward silence for a couple of moments.

It was completely silent, so quiet you could hear a pin drop. It wasn't until the silence was broken by the sniffles Spencer was trying to contain. I turn to see that hot tears are streaming down his face, and he's looking at me not like he's not angry but scared. I reach out to touch his arm and I hate the way his muscle tensed under my touch. Is he that disgusted with me? He can't even let me be near him comfortably.

“Can you please say something...anything at all.”

“I’m scared,” that's all you hear out of Spencer before he starts sniffling once more.

“Spencer why? Is it me? Did I do something wrong?”

“I’m scared of myself. I’m not the same person I used to be. I’m scared you’re going to leave me because I'm not the same. I'm just terrified that I might hurt you even.”

“Oh Spence, you didn't hurt me and I know you wouldn't. If you’re referring to last I know you never would. We need to talk about this. Why did you even go to Morgans in the first place.”

“I knew that I'd be far from you. Morgan had to learn more than once how to feel normal again after a traumatic situation. He also knew what it was like to possibly lose Savannah. I just needed a distraction. I'm sorry I snapped at you, but I didn't want you to press the issue.” He says just barely above a whisper. He can't even look me in the eyes he feels so ashamed. If he does make eye contact it’s a split second, and he looks like a kicked around puppy.

“Spencer… I’m not going to act like I know what you’re going through, but something I can do is be with you the whole time. I get Morgan is like your older brother and you look up to him, but this kind of feels weird having this serious conversation here.”

“I know it feels like we’re invading a bit, let's just go home.”

-time skip-

“This feels much better,” I say as I throw my keys on the countertop.

“It sure does.” He says standing right behind me.

Before he can protest I wrap my arms around him so tight I basically have a death grip on him. After he relaxes into my touch he starts to nestle his face in the crook of my neck.

“I’m just scared of losing you, hurting you, or upsetting you. I realize pushing you away and yelling at you did nothing but put me in jeopardy of doing all three.” He says as I can feel each breath pass along my neck. It feels like home because this apartment isn't home without him.

“You’re not going to lose me. I love you so much. I'll always be there for you… we’ll always be there for you…” I trail off.

“Yeah I know… wait who else?” He asks while pulling me from him just enough, so he can see my face. With a proud smile from ear to ear I decide it’s now or never to tell him.

“Well, we won’t get to meet them yet. Give it about six months.”

“Wait, you're pregnant?” He asks totally dumbfounded. An IQ of 187 to 60 just like that. I just nod as the tears start to fall, but instead this time they’re happy tears.

“Oh my god! I’m going to be a dad!” He says as he picks me up and twirls me really quick.

“Wait, are you okay? I didn’t cause too much stress right? We’re going to have to do so many things we don’t have enough time. What if I’m not ready?” Panic thickly laced in his voice. His head is obviously going a million miles a minute. I need to bring him back down to earth and quickly.

“Love it’s going to be okay. I saw you with Hank today and I’ve seen you with Henry and Micheal. They all absolutely adore you. It’s going to take time, there's still a lot of healing. It’s all going to be okay because we’re going to have the little family we’ve always wanted. We can worry about all of the details tomorrow. I just want to be right next to you for the rest of the night. Okay?” I say as I lead him to the couch.

“Okay,” He says with a larger than life grin on his face. He leans in to kiss me and this time it wasn’t rushed or filled with dread. It was like he was putting all of his love into one tender little kiss.

“I wish we had more time at Morgans. To think that’s going to be us one day soon. Hank was so adorable waddling around. He couldn’t even get a couple of inches before he fell back on his butt.” Spencer says as he wraps his arms around me. We're cuddling in a way that we're both lying on the couch but my back is to his chest. He rests his chin on my head and his hands on my lower belly.

“Spencer I love you so much, but you have no room to talk. You don’t have much better coordination, Hank might even have you beat.” I giggle a bit before leaning back into him even further.

He laughs at me, and he knows it’s true because he doesn’t even try and rebut what I just said. Finally, everything feels like it’s right back into place. Sure, Spencer will never be the same again, but we can work with what we have. Deep down he’s still just as loving, hopeful, kind, caring, and empathetic as he once was. It’ll just take time, and we have about six months to spare.

Taglist: @rexorangecouny @haylaansmi

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds angst #post prison reid #post prison spencer

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squishmallow36 · 3 years ago

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Keeper of the Lost Prepositions - Twelve

Word count: 1.6k

Tw: Fitz angry

Taglist (lmk if you want to be added / removed): @stellar-lune @ichor-on-my-hands @kamikothe1and0lny @nyxpixels @snowflakewolves @poppinspop @crystallinewalker @uni-seahorse-572 @tiergan-andrin-alenefar @books-over-boys @florida-llama-46 @when-wax-wings-melt @k00laidcrush @bowlcut-boyfriends @good-old-fashioned-lover-boy7 @dexter-dizznee

On Ao3 or below the cut! Other chapters can be found here

My meeting with Tinker the next day goes as expected.

Approximately five words are exchanged between us, but I manage to message Amy through one of my human laptops.

Hey, Amy! This is Dex. Sophie’s friend. I wanted to make sure I did this correctly. I send after many rephrases and hesitating whether to send or to rephrase again.

Prove that it’s you she responds, very quickly, I might add.

Sophie mentioned once that you called me ‘Mr. Cute-redhead-with-dimples’ when you forgot my name.

She sends four—yes, four—texts back in rapid succession.

Wait...she told u abt that? I specifically told her not to

Fine

What do u want

And why arent u just hailing me normally

English is hard, so it takes me longer than I’d hoped to explain.

Okay, so, I’m a little bit paranoid that the Neverseen’s Technopath has hacked into the Foster squad’s Imparters, so I figured out how to message you through a laptop I made. Foster and I were hoping we could meet somewhere in the Forbidden Cities (your house?). We need your help with a thing and it’s better explained IRL.

Since when do u call Sophie Foster and how do u know txting abbrevs

How does she type so fast?

I’ve been spending too much time with Keefe and I’m trying to learn about humans. I made a human reference yesterday and everything.

Does tmrw like 2 pst work for u its the weekend here but I dont know if elves are weird like that

Sure, I’ll let Foster know. Wait, are you in class right now?

Obvi

That’s short for ‘obviously’, right? I don’t want to have to go to Urban Dictionary.

*sigh*

Hey, I’m better than the average elf about humans! At least I know something!

And u still fully punctuate your messages *shakes head disapprovingly*

Go pay attention in class.

U arent in class too and btw theres no way im gonna pay attention

Foxfire is on hiatus bc of the Neverseen until the Council decides it’s safe enough to go back. And your lack of apostrophes is really bothering me.

Youre trying so hard to be cool grammar cop

Pay attention in class.

Will u do my homework at the mtg tmrw

Did you know ‘mtg’ also stands for ‘Magic: The Gathering’?

Whys your ? Outside the quotes hmm

Bc the whole sentence is the question, not the part in the quotes.

I guess I managed to annoy her enough to not respond, or her mentor—wait, humans call them teachers—must’ve found that she is texting in class, which is usually not good. I’m pretty sure a decent chunk of my words are in the Enlightened Language, and assuming her teacher’s human, I’m not too worried.

Still a little worried. Welcome to my brain.

After telling Sophie about the meeting time, I spend the next hour or so setting up a scrambled feed for Foster’s and my registry pendants—did Keefe even take his off? I’m gonna have to go check for that.

I leap back home to make sure Fitz is doing okay, and I find him still baking in the kitchen, surrounded by mallowmelt, ripplefluffs, custard creams, and more that I can’t even identify off the top of my head.

“Well, somebody’s been busy,” I muse.

He didn’t realise that I’m back, or that he made so many different baked goods.

“I guess so,” he replied.

I grab a fork and one of the pans of still-warm Mallowmelt, saying, “I think you need an official taste tester, am I right?”

He shrugs, and does the same with another pan of mallowmelt.

“The good thing is that with the triplets, this’ll probably be gone faster than you’d think was possible. But you might want to stay away when they’re on a sugar high. It’s scary.”

He nods again, and I realise that he’s said approximately four words to me today.

“What’s wrong? You usually aren’t this quiet. I mean, you aren’t the most talkative—that honour goes to Hunky or your sister —but, like, you can carry a conversation, eh? So what can I do to help? Preferably in a way that doesn’t involve taking me away from this Mallowmelt—it’s really good.”

“No reason to worry about me,” Wonderboy replies, too fast to be believable.

“Except for the fact that the phrase ‘no reason to worry’ does anything but make me worry less.” At least I’m pretty sure it’s a phrase. It doesn’t have a verb in it, so I think that’s what it is.

“What do you want me to say? I’m fine! I don’t need you, or Biana, or anyone else to worry about me!” he snaps.

“You think I want to be your babysitter? Biana stuck me with you with no warning! Surprise! I might actually have a life!” I retort, which I regret as soon as it leaves my mouth.

I lower my voice and say, “Sorry. But, for better or worse, we’re stuck together, so you should probably accept that.”

“Like how I have to accept that Sophie’s moved on?”

“Have you thought that maybe she just doesn’t want to deal with a relationship right now? You weren’t the greatest boyfriend according to what I’ve heard, and, yes, I know she wasn’t the greatest girlfriend, but you know what? She went to the matchmakers for you! She went looking for her parents for you! And then when she found out who her mother is, she decided it would cause more harm than good to reveal her identity!”

“Figures,” he mutters.

“What?” I snap defensively.

“You’d be on her side. You know exactly how it feels to be rejected! By her, no less! I thought you, of everyone we knew, would understand, but I guess not!”

“In case you forgot, she’s my best friend.”

He snorts.

I glare back.

“And, actually, human studies have shown that being in a situation in the past that someone else is going through right now makes you less empathetic towards them!”

“Now that sounds like a load of steaming sasquatch poop!”

“I will Google it, right here, right now, if you don’t believe me.”

He gives me a look that I’m pretty sure says that he trusts me with the random human facts, but that doesn’t mean he’s happy about it.

He sighs after a few seconds, and it makes him completely deflate.

“What can I do?” I ask tentatively.

“I...I don’t think there’s anything other than time...And I don’t want to burden you with my problems…” he replies quietly, after a moment of contemplation.

“As I already said, we’re stuck together by the will of your sister, who probably has an extensive amount of blackmail on both of us if you try to refuse. Additionally, I want to help. Let me help. Please.”

“‘Additionally?’ Where are we? In the middle of a Metaphysics essay?”

“Yes.” I say as seriously as I can before we both break down into laughter.

“I ran out of transitions, and you’re avoiding letting me be useful.”

“How exactly do you plan on helping me with my problems that you shouldn’t even have to deal with?”

I cringe slightly at the preposition.

“Wouldn’t you think it would be slightly helpful to have a Technopath on your side in your project to find Alvar?”

“You could really find him? Assuming he’s still alive, I mean.”

“I found Ethan Benedict Wright II, didn’t I? And he’s been dead for like five, maybe six, years. How hard can it be?”

“Yes, but I don’t have access to Watchward Heath. I know that Forkle will disapprove of my search but…” he trailed off.

“...you can tell he’s still alive, and if he is, then he can still cause problems,” I supply.

He nods solemnly.

“I don’t know how, or why for that matter, but…exactly.”

“It probably has something to do with your sibling bond or something like that. Like how Hunky’s mother has done so much and part of him still loves her.”

“How do you just refer to him so casually?” he asks. “The mere thought of him makes me want to punch a wall.”

“First, most things make you want to punch walls, and, second, I know he’s going to be brought back here somehow, perhaps unwillingly, but I know he won’t be able to leave that easily.”

“That sounds ominous.”

“Yeah,” I say, and grab a pan of chocolate-mint ripplefluffs because more sugar is necessary.

Fitz snatches one of them from my pan that I’ve very much claimed as mine now, and I almost screech at him. Then I remember he made them, so he’s allowed one. Maybe two if he asks nicely.

Mine.

Great, I sound like the seagulls in Finding Nemo.

“Just so you know, I’m gonna have to leave the triplets in charge of you again tomorrow. Foster and I have a meeting with Amy in the Forbidden Cities and it might take a significant amount of time. I have about three or four hours set up to scramble our registry feeds, but I’d rather the council didn’t know about our little trip and if the Neverseen are tracking us the same way, then they’ll know where Amy lives,” I mention.

“Okay. Do you think I could hail Biana to see if I’m allowed back home?”

“Yeah, but remember: baked goods are the best bribes”

“That was a lot of—wait what’s the word for when there’s a whole bunch if the same sound, not rhyming but, like, similar”

“Alliteration, or, more specifically, in this case, consonance. Because b is a consonant. I didn’t even try. But, am I wrong?”

He gets the go-ahead from Biana to be allowed to go back to Everglen, but has to take many more pans of mallowmelt and assorted baked goods than I would like.

Then again, if the triplets had gotten into that much sugar—I shudder slightly.

The world already has enough problems.

#kotlc #detz #Stars writing amy is so fun #hey this counts for #amy april

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wickedobsessed101 · 3 years ago

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"Sewing It Up" Oneshot #9: "March Madness"

Villy’s eyes shot open and she bolted up in bed. Her body told her it was still the middle of the night, but her brain told her she didn’t have much time to make it to the bathroom. She pushed herself up, and stumbled towards the door, one hand covering her mouth as the other trailed along the wall. She finally reached the bathroom, but stubbed her toe on the doorway and fell to her knees, her hands sliding across the cold tiles.

The pain shooting up her leg was the least of her worries; the only thing helping her crawl to the toilet was the adrenaline pumping through her veins and the imminent threat of her stomach forcibly expelling last night’s dinner.

She threw the lid up, not even flinching at the loud clang echoing, taking a few heaving breaths over the toilet until she started hurling.

She had just finished the first wave when she felt someone kneel next to her, placing a hand on her back. “… Geri…”

“I’m right here, Dovey,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around her hips as the second wave hit her.

She finished and leaned against him, letting him wipe away the stray hairs sticking to her clammy forehead. She weakly pawed at the handle to flush the toilet, but her arm flopped down, and Geri took care of it for her.

“Was it something you ate yesterday?”

She had eaten an early dinner at the shop with Elphaba, since both of them skipped lunch. “P-Probably.” If it was the reason, she knew it wasn’t the full reason.

“Do you want some ginger tea?”

“No…”

He shifted to hug her closer, wrapping his arms around her stomach, but was quickly pushed away due to the third wave.

“Let it out,” he whispered, rubbing her back and fighting the urge to gag at the smell.

After one more wave, Villy was sure her stomach was completely empty and collapsed against her husband. She still blocked his attempts to touch her stomach, and was glad he settled for holding her hands instead.

“What… time…”

“Almost three. Are you ready to go back to bed?”

She hummed, making a face. “Can we… stay here for a bit?”

“Sure.”

The couple stayed on the bathroom floor. The seamstress felt her eyes grow heavier, but they refused to fully close. She refused the ginger water again, weakly pushing herself out of her husband’s arms.

“Did you turn the lights on?”

“I did.”

“I hope it didn't wake Nyris up.”

“That girl sleeps like a baby.”

Unbeknownst to them, their daughter had been standing in the doorway, witnessing the whole thing.

~~~

A few hours later, the family was having breakfast together. Nyris was unusually quiet, but attributed it to a bad dream she had. She refused to talk about it, but gave her stepmother worried glances at her smaller-than-normal breakfast portions.

“Papa?”

The banker looked down. “Yes, Butterfly?”

“Is Mimsey okay?”

The seamstress went upstairs to take a shower, but the little girl’s mind was still on what she had witnessed earlier that morning.

“She’s okay. Why?”

“Why was she throwing up this morning?”

His breath hitched and he lifted her into his arms. “You heard her?”

“Yeah, and I saw you two.”

He bit his lip, glad the curse word that went through his mind didn't come out his mouth. “She just ate something that upset her tummy last night.”

“That’s why she had a smaller breakfast?”

“Yeah. Her tummy can only handle a little bit of food. But she’s okay now.”

“Oh. Okay.”

He kissed her cheek and returned her to the floor. “I have to go downstairs. Let Mimsey know.”

“Okay, Papa!”

The banker left downstairs to prepare the schedules for the upcoming week, and Nyris started craving apple juice, forgetting about her father’s directions. She ran into the kitchen, pulling a chair over to the cabinet above the counter, and grabbed her favorite kitten cup. She considered jumping off the chair, then remembered that her father wasn’t there to catch her like he always did, and settled for sitting down and sliding off, instead. She sat on the couch, taking advantage of the fact that neither parents were there to correct her, but a noise from upstairs made her freeze.

She heard that noise before. Her lip quivered as she slowly climbed up the stairs, walking down the hall and stopping in front of the bathroom.

“Mimsey?” she whispered, pushing the ajar door open.

Her stepmother was kneeling in front of the toilet, her wet hair clinging to her face and neck, clad in only her fuzzy, pink bathrobe. She didn’t notice the little girl as another wave of nausea hit her, which quickly made her eject more of her breakfast.

“You can have my apple juice,” she said, gently pressing the cup into her hands once she flushed and leaned away from the toilet.

Villy wordlessly brought the cup to her lips, taking small sips while preparing for her stomach to possibly reject it. When it calmed instead, she relaxed more, reaching up and feeling for the hand towel. She wiped her mouth, but stiffened slightly when Nyris climbed into her lap. She really didn’t want to be touched, but she had a feeling the little girl needed some comfort too, but for what reason, she didn’t know.

“Mimsey?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re not gonna die, right?”

“Wh-What? What makes you ask that?”

“Papa said Mama used to throw up like that, then she died. I don’t want you to die!”

Villy placed the cup on the closed toilet lid and pulled the now-hysterical girl closer, kissing her hair. “No, Jellybean. I’m okay. I just… have an upset tummy.”

“That’s what Papa said, but that was because of last night, not now. He said you were okay now.”

“I…” She didn’t want to tell her stepdaughter the real reason behind her sudden sickness. She wanted to tell her husband first, and Nyris wasn’t known for her secret-keeping abilities. She simply settled for rubbing her back, trying to console her as she cried into the fluffy robe.

“You promised you would stay with me forever,” Nyris whimpered, the first sentence Villy was able to fully understand.

“I’m not going anywhere, Nyris. People get sick, but then they rest and get better.”

“Are you gonna rest today?”

She chuckled softly. “I think I should.”

“Okay. Papa told me to tell you he’s in the library.”

“Thank you, Jellybean.”

Nyris hummed and wiggled out of her arms, skipping out the bathroom. The seamstress slowly pushed herself up and finished getting ready.

The day was fairly quiet. Geri tried to get through piles of paperwork, and Villy was taking it easy. When the banker finally emerged for a much-needed break, he paused at the sight before him.

His wife was fast asleep on the sofa, and out of the corner of his eye, he sees Nyris carrying one of the blankets from the hall closet, most of it dragging behind her rather than in her arms. He silently watched as the six-year-old delicately draped the blanket over the sleeping seamstress. His heart melted when Nyris brushed her hair from her face and kissed her forehead. She whispered something he didn’t catch, but he swore he saw his wife’s lips twitch.

“Mimsey’s sleeping, Papa,” Nyris whispered, putting her finger to her lips when she noticed him approaching.

“Okay,” he whispered back, lifting her into his arms and kissing her cheek. “I’ll be very quiet and gentle, just like you.”

“That’s how Mimsey tucks me into bed. I like taking care of her. If I take care of her, she’ll get better… and won’t die like Mama did.”

He blinked. “What?”

“If I’m gentle and help her get better, she won’t die, and she’ll be able to stay with me forever, just like she promised. She won’t throw up and be tired anymore.”

“Butterfly…” He didn’t know what to say. He knew his little girl was very perceptive and smart, and had a lot of questions, but despite what she thought, he didn’t have the answer to everything.

“Can I have a snack, please?”

Luckily for him, she could be easily distracted. And snacks always took precedent. “Sure.”

That evening, after dinner (where Villy ate slightly more), the family settled out in the garden. Nyris checked on the flower buds, and she and Villy started planting their lima beans and tomato seeds.

Villy and Geri settled on the porch as Nyris sang to the sprouts. “I’m gonna get ready for bed,” Villy said, kissing her husband’s cheek.

“Trying to get out of bath time?”

“It’s your turn, anyway. And the bedtime story. So you can stay right here and enjoy the concert.”

“The child can’t pick a key,” Geri said, wincing as Nyris hit an off-key high note.

She chuckled. “Perhaps we should consider voice lessons.” She patted his arm and stood, going back inside.

She was brushing her hair at her vanity when she heard the door open and her husband’s footsteps.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“You’re gonna have to be a bit more specific.”

“The display you’ve set up on the table. Candles, wine, covered trays, the sexy negligee…” He paused. “You were expecting me, weren’t you?”

She chuckled. “Yes.”

He uncovered the tray, revealing an array of pastries. “We’re you still hungry?”

“No.” She stood, nervously wiping her hands on the negligee. She was startled when she felt Geri’s arms wrap around her. She hadn’t heard him cross the room.

“You look ravishing,” he whispered, tangling his fingers in her hair.

“Mmm… we need to talk,” she moaned, melting into his embrace.

“What… now?” he pouted.

“Yes, honey.”

“Why?”

“What we’re doing now is the reason we need to talk.”

He blinked. “Sorry, sweetheart, I’m not following.”

She shook her head, figuring it was just better to do it. “I have a present for you,” she said.

The banker paused. “It’s not my birthday, nor Lurlinemas, nor ‘Give Your Husband A Random Gift Day’… is it?”

Villy rolled her eyes. “No.”

“Our anniversary’s next week,” he said, as if she was the confused one.

“Your present’s on your nightstand. Stop trying to figure out why and go get it.”

He went over, grabbed the neatly wrapped box, and tore off the paper like a child opening a birthday gift, while his wife waited patiently for his reaction.

“They’re… shoes.”

“Yes.”

“Baby booties. Why did you give me… I can’t fit them, neither can Nyris, and you –“ His voice died down as the realization hit him. “Dovey…”

“Hmm?”

He didn’t answer, his breath hitched, then quieted. “You… you’re pregnant?”

“Uh-huh,” she nodded, blinking away tears.

“We… we’re gonna have a baby?”

“Yeah.”

“That explains the morning sickness.”

She laughed. “I’ve known for a few weeks, but didn’t want to say anything until after the first trimester. But after today’s fiasco, I figured I’d held the secret long enough.”

“When?”

“I’m around twelve weeks, so late August. I know this is really soon, and we haven’t even been married for a full year yet, but –“

“But that doesn’t matter,” he said, gripping her hands. “I love you, and I’m so happy.”

“I love you, too.”

“So, tomorrow, we’re gonna tell our daughter you’re not dying, right?”

“She said that to you, too?”

“… Too? She asked you?”

“You know you have an inquisitive daughter.”

“Dear Oz…”

#sewing it up #oneshot #march madness #surprise #fanfiction #fanfics #faesflower #ocappreciation #family fluff #blind character #pregnant #series #threads of truth #oc #my ocs

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joe-mazzello-archive · 4 years ago

Text

Party For One

A Joe Mazzello x Fem!Reader fic

Word Count: 4k whoopsssss

Rating: PG

Warnings: language, drinking, angst for most of it, a teeny bit of fluff, joe is a bit of a shithead in this one, sorry gang

A/N: hey remember how i was supposed to be finishing doj part two and instead i word-vomited this out in five hours at work yesterday? anyway, enjoy.

He hasn’t changed a bit, you thought to yourself as you watched him, always the life of the party. He’d been that way all through high school, the summers you saw him between college semesters, and the few gatherings he made appearances at when he was home.

You’d always been right beside him, too. Pre-gaming at a friend’s house, sharing the mic during karaoke, rubbing his back as he leaned over the toilet, crashing on the couch or the floor or wherever you could find a spot.

But now you were out of your element. You were in his other world. You were surrounded by vaguely familiar faces, people you knew you had probably seen in a movie or a tv show but you couldn’t place them exactly. And there he was, across the room, animatedly entertaining a small group with some anecdote you’d probably heard before.

He was obviously the reason you were here. He had been begging you to come out to Los Angeles for years now. Years of you’d love it out here and you and I both know you’d take the industry by storm and I miss my best friend. Eventually, you relented. Mostly because your career in real estate was exhaustingly boring and you needed a change. Acting had always been something you enjoyed but never looked at as a career opportunity until now. But you had to admit, you missed your best friend too.

So you packed up everything, drove across the country, and settled into Joe’s guest room. You had a meeting with his agency on Monday, but of course Joe, always the party host, insisted that you needed a welcoming get-together upon arrival. Which soon turned into a complete blow-out. In fact, you were pretty sure most of the guests in attendance had no idea what the party’s true origin was, let alone who you were.

So there you were, only hours since you had arrived, left to nurse your beer off in the corner. Part of you wished you and Joe could have had a quiet night in, catching up over pizza and a comedy special. But you knew deep down that would have just exacerbated the situation you found yourself in. Seeing Joe in the flesh once again had caused some...feelings to resurface. Feelings that you had worked for years to suppress, and had been hoping were completely gone by now.

All it took was him opening his front door and pulling you into a tight hug for all of those feelings to come rushing right back.

Sometimes he did things that made you feel like maybe, just maybe, he felt the same. Like the way he used to wrap a protective arm around you when the two of you walked around Brooklyn at night. The way he could sense when you were having a rough day just through your texts, and suddenly a delivery of Insomnia Cookies would arrive at your apartment door. The way every hello and goodbye hug lasted just a moment longer than was probably appropriate for two friends. But surely you were reading into it.

You knew he wasn’t avoiding you. No, he couldn’t be. Sure, the second other guests had started to arrive, his focus turned from you to them. And sure, he hadn’t given you the time of day since. But he wasn’t avoiding you, no. He was just a popular guy, he always had been.

You pushed those negative thoughts away, not willing to accept them.

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” sounded a familiar voice with a British lilt from behind you. You turned and were met with ocean blue eyes and chiseled cheekbones.

“Gwil,” you breathed out, almost in relief. Someone you knew. The tall man pulled you in for a bear hug, immediately putting you at ease. You appreciated the gesture considering you and Gwil weren’t even that close, only meeting each other a few times back when the Borhap cast was briefly in New York.

“Did that asshole leave you here alone at a party full of people you don’t know?” Gwil asked as he pulled away. You chuckled at his frankness.

“You know how he is,” you mused, offering a smile and a shrug. “He’s gotta entertain everybody.”

“Now did I hear correctly that you’re moving out here?” Gwil questioned, casually leaning a shoulder against the wall next to you.

“Got here a few hours ago, in fact,” you explained. “I’ll be occupying the guest room until I find my own place.” Gwil chuckled at that.

“You quite literally just got here and he’s off chatting with people he sees all the time?” Gwil clarified, earning an exasperated nod from you. “I’m going to go ahead and apologize on behalf of that bastard.” You let out a genuine laugh at that, clearly pleasing Gwil if his smile was any indication. “So how was the trip out here?”

And that’s how you found yourself tucked into the hallway of Joe’s apartment, just exchanging stories with Gwil. You welcomed the change in subject, not wanting to harp on the whole Joe situation. You told him about the weird truck stop in Ohio, the delicious pizza you devoured in Chicago, the loud hotel neighbors you encountered in Colorado, and your brief stint in Las Vegas. Gwil offered his own road trip tales before the conversation shifted, and eventually he was regaling stories about various sets he’d worked on, actors he’d worked with, and general knowledge of the business. He even offered some much needed advice, melting away some of your initial anxieties about your career change. All feelings of loneliness and inklings of frustration at Joe were long gone, and you mentally thanked Joe for inviting at least one person you knew.

“Can I ask you something?” Gwil inquired after a little while, the two of you finding yourselves settled out in chairs on Joe’s balcony, enjoying the night air of LA.

“Fire away.”

“Did you and Joe ever date or anything?”

You burst out laughing at the question, shaking your head.

“No, no, definitely not,” you replied before taking a sip of your beer. You chanced a look at Gwil, finding him eyeing you warily.

“That’s surprising,” he admitted before pursing his lips and gently caressing his own beard, a gesture you noticed he did often.

“Why is that surprising?” you asked, furrowing your eyebrows.

“Just the way he talks about you…” Gwil trailed off, his gaze focusing on the city lights before him. Your heart slammed against your chest at his words. You tried to keep your face neutral, not wanting to let Gwil know just how important what he was saying was to you.

“How...how does he talk about me?” you followed up, attempting to hide the quiver in your voice. Gwil immediately turned back to face you, his eyes glinting mischievously. His lips curved into a soft smile before he said your name gently.

“He...he’s in awe of you,” Gwil confessed. “I swear he talked about you constantly while we were shooting the film. ‘She’d be a great actress if she wanted to be. She’s funny, she’s charming, and she’s got the looks and talent.’ Everything reminded him of a funny story involving you. We practically knew you before we even met you.” Your heart was practically beating out of your chest as Gwil spoke. Sure, Joe had complimented you before. But something about the fact that he had practically bragged about you to people who didn’t even know you made your stomach flutter.

You realized Gwil had stopped talking and you met his gaze, finding his eyes narrowed at you.

“You should tell him,” he finally said after a few moments.

“Tell him what?” you asked, playing dumb. You knew exactly what he was referring to. The man had seen right through you. He smiled, this time seeing right through your act of denial.

“How you feel.”

You ran your hands over your face and let out a groan.

“I literally just moved in, Gwil,” you reasoned. “I don’t want to make him feel awkward about me staying here by telling him about the feelings he very clearly doesn’t reciprocate.” You gestured inside the apartment, where Joe was still talking it up with a few guys you recognized from Undrafted.

Gwil leaned forward, shuffling closer to you and placing a gentle hand on your knee.

“I know his actions tonight make it seem like he couldn’t care less. But I promise you, he’s so happy to have you here. He adores you. More than you even realize.”

You chewed on Gwil’s words, your mind swimming. You believed him; he had no reason to lie to you. But you just wished what Gwil told you lined up with how Joe had been behaving all night.

Eventually the two of you made your way back inside, to find the party had somewhat died down. Joe had shifted into clean up mode while the last small group was starting to make their exit. You instinctively began to straighten up, grabbing beer bottles and paper plates and disposing of them while Joe worked on packing up the leftover food.

You were tying up a full trash bag when Joe brushed past you, not even acknowledging your presence. Your heart sunk, knowing full well you couldn’t use the excuse that Joe was just distracted by others this time.

He was actually ignoring you.

As you opened a new trash bag, you began to wrack your brain for what you could have done already to piss him off. Gwil pulled you from your thoughts, pulling you in for a goodbye hug and a peck on the cheek. When he pulled away, his brow furrowed.

“What’s wrong?” It was amazing how quickly Gwil learned how to read you. Or maybe you were just that bad at masking your emotions.

Your lip trembled as you tried to prevent the tears from falling.

“He’s ignoring me now,” you revealed, earning a sympathetic look from Gwil.

“I’m sorry, love,” he offered quietly. “He’ll figure his shit out eventually.” Another hug, this one a bit longer as he held you against his chest. “I’ll text you next time I’m in town, we’ll all grab lunch.” You nodded with a soft smile before pulling away, turning your attention back to your cleaning.

Another minute passed, the last of the voices faded away, and the door clicked closed, leaving a silent apartment. You let out a sigh as you tossed the last of the plates you had found in the new trash bag. Pulling another beer out of the fridge, you ventured into the living room where you found Joe pushing the coffee table back to its original position. You awkwardly leaned against the arm of the loveseat as you waited for him to say something.

But he didn’t. After finishing rearranging, he passed by you once again, not even sparing you a glance, before heading back into the kitchen. You let out another sigh, following after him.

“Okay, can you please tell me what I did so I can fix it?” you pleaded, completely at a loss. Joe silently pulled a bottle of disinfectant and a rag out from under the sink and breezed past you another time, heading back into the living room. You scoffed at his actions, your sadness being replaced with anger at his immature way of handling himself.

You placed your beer down on the counter and trudged back into the living room, stopping in front of where Joe was wiping down the coffee table and crossing your arms.

“Joe? Are you going to talk to me or continue to ignore me like a fucking child?”

He froze, dropping the bottle and the rag on the table before finally, finally looking at you for the first time in hours.

“You’ve been here for what, five minutes? And you’re already trying to fuck my friends?”

Your jaw dropped.

“Excuse me?”

“You and Gwil seemed awfully cozy,” Joe replied before picking up the rag and continuing to wipe down the coffee table. You grabbed the rag from his hand, earning a sharp glare. “Hey--”

“Are you fucking serious right now?” you roared, your blood boiling. “I hang out with the one fucking person I knew at my supposed ‘welcoming party’ besides you and suddenly I’m trying to fuck them?” You were shell-shocked at the accusation. Joe simply shrugged.

“The two of you were inseparable all night, what was I supposed to think?” he reasoned as he began to walk back into the kitchen. You scoffed again, tossing the rag onto the table in frustration at his nonchalant tone.

“How about the fact that you left me alone at a party full of strangers so I spent time with Gwil since you were busy with your other friends?” you fired back as you stomped into the kitchen. Joe began to wash his hands, still ignoring your piercing stare. “Like, holy shit, Joe. I know your world does not revolve around me, but the least you could do was acknowledge my existence. It’s my first night here, for fuck’s sake.”

That made him pause. He stared at the counter and you could practically hear how hard he was thinking. Suddenly, he met your gaze once again, a brazen look on his face.

“You could have come up to talk to me. I shouldn’t have to babysit you.”

His words were like a sword through your chest. Your jaw practically hit the floor this time.

“Fuck. You.” You turned on your heels and headed for the guest bedroom, angry hot tears escaping down your cheeks. You thanked your past self for barely unpacking anything before the party as you began to scoop up your toiletries and few pieces of clothing laying out on the bed and threw them back into your suitcase.

You felt ashamed and so so stupid for thinking that this had been a good idea. And the worst feeling of all was the embarrassment at thinking that there was ever a chance of Joe reciprocating any feelings for you. You were nothing but a burden to him. Someone he felt like he would have to “babysit.” You didn’t fit in in his world and you were foolish to think you could.

“What are you doing?”

You jumped at the sound of Joe’s voice behind you; you hadn’t even heard him approach. You swiped at a stray tear and finished zipping up your bag before lugging it onto the floor and pulling up the handle.

“I’m going to check into a hotel,” you explained as you pushed your way past him, luggage dragging behind you. “I don’t feel welcome here.” You began to make your way towards the front door, already feeling overwhelmed by anxiety. You had no idea what your next move was going to be. Stay in LA and try to figure things out? Go back home to two parents who would chant “we told you so” until they were blue in the face?

Joe’s hand caught your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

“Please don’t do that,” he pleaded, his tone from earlier completely gone and replaced with a much softer and more desperate one. “I’m sorry. Please stay.” You whipped around to face him.

“Which part are you sorry for?” you asked sharply. “The part where you ignored me? Or where you accused me of trying to sleep with your friend? Or maybe it’s the part where you said you shouldn’t have to ‘babysit me’?”

“All of it,” Joe replied. “I’m sorry I lashed out at you. I’m just--” he trailed off as he turned away, almost bashfully. “I can’t help but feel protective of you.”

You furrowed your brows. It didn’t make sense. He felt protective of you but didn’t want to have to ‘babysit you’? He felt protective of you but he got mad at you for talking to Gwil? You stuttered as you tried to put the pieces together, coming up empty.

“I don’t…” your voice petered out. You were completely flabbergasted. “What do you want from me, Joe?”

Joe’s eyes met yours once again, and you could see the conflict written on his face. He was struggling with something. It was almost as if he--

“I want…” he began, before taking a deep breath. “I want you to stay here tonight.”

You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. For some reason, a part of you was hopeful he would say something else. The two of you stared at each other for a few more moments, giving him the chance to say more. But it never came. So with a soft nod, you reached for your suitcase again, pulling it behind you as you walked back into the guest room, closing the door behind you.

✧✧✧

You awoke to the smell of bacon wafting into your room. You sat up, throwing your legs over the side of the bed. With a deep breath, you pushed yourself up and headed toward the bathroom.

The sight of your face in the mirror made you cringe. You hadn’t taken off your makeup before crying yourself to sleep the night before, leaving black streaks of mascara across your cheeks. You washed your face before running a comb through your hair. You knew you looked awful, but you didn’t care. Joe had seen you worse, and honestly, his opinion of you was not high on your priority list after his hissy fit last night.

You sauntered into the kitchen with a bit of hesitation, unsure what you’d be walking into. You found Joe, furiously whisking some pancake batter.

“Hey.”

He practically jumped out of his own skin, clumsily dropping the bowl of batter to the counter, luckily with little to no mess.

“Hey,” he replied, running a hand over the back of his neck. “How did you sleep?”

“Alright,” you lied. You had agonized over every detail of the evening until practically three in the morning. But you didn’t want Joe to know that. If he knew, he didn’t let on, instead offering you a small smile.

“I made bacon and I’m about to make pancakes,” he stated, gesturing towards the stove behind him. You nodded simply and took a seat at his kitchen island.

Things were awkward. You didn’t even know where to begin. Part of you wanted to tell him to forget everything and start fresh. It would make things easier. But part of you wanted to stand strong, make sure you held him accountable for how he’d hurt you.

You mulled over everything, idly chewing on a piece of bacon as Joe worked at the stove, mumbling under his breath about the pancakes cooking inconsistently or something. After a few minutes, you were pulled from your thoughts by a plate of pancakes being placed in front of you. You glanced up to see Joe eyeing you, an uncertain look on his face.

“I’m a huge asshole,” he admitted. You opened your mouth to agree with him but he kept going. “You were right. I was avoiding you during the party. It was easier for me to convince myself that you were having a good time than to check up on you myself. I thought I…” he trailed off, losing momentum. He shook his head and began again. “I assured myself that I could handle being around you again. That enough time had passed and I could be your best friend again without a second thought. But then you walked through my front door and it all came rushing back and I panicked.” You shook your head, trying to keep up with what Joe was trying to tell you.

“I don’t understand--”

“I’m in love with you.”

For the third time in less than twenty-four hours, your jaw dropped.

“I honestly think I’ve been in love with you since high school, but it took me well into my late twenties for me to actually realize it. And I got so caught up on this fantasy of you and I being this acting dream team, showing this fucking town who’s boss, together. And then you were here and you had spent the last week road-tripping across the country yet somehow you looked so fucking beautiful? And I just...couldn’t handle it. I invited practically everyone in my contacts to come over right away because I needed a buffer. I turned my focus to everyone else at the party because it was familiar and certain. With you there was so much uncertainty.”

He paused for a moment and collected his thoughts once again.

“And then I saw you with Gwil. I knew it wasn’t anything. But you were smiling and laughing with him and I just couldn’t help but wish you were spending your time with me. I know that doesn’t make sense. But I just got so caught up in my own head so when you finally confronted me, I panicked again. I threw everything back at you because I was afraid and embarrassed.”

You watched him as he plopped down on the stool next to you with a sigh.

“I wish I could do it all over again. There wouldn’t be a party. Just you and me like it used to be,” he continued. He turned to you, eyes sad with regret. “I am so so so sorry. You were right about everything. Except one thing. My world does revolve around you. The day you told me you were coming out here was the happiest day I’ve had in awhile. I’ve thought about nothing else since. But I completely understand if you want to leave. Hell, I’ll pay for your hotel and help you figure out what you want to do. But I also understand if you want me to just leave you alone.”

To say you were stunned would be an understatement. Your heart was pounding out of your chest at Joe’s confession. You didn’t even know what to say. There was so much that needed to be said, but you were frozen in place.

So you didn’t speak. You just moved.

You gripped the sides of Joe’s head and pulled him in for a bruising kiss. He let out a small noise in surprise, but quickly melted into the kiss, his own hands reaching for you and landing on your hips. You kissed him hard, pouring every emotion you felt into it. Every past pang of your heart when Joe had gone out of his way to do something for you. Every past flutter of your stomach when he had wrapped his arms around you. Every ounce of frustration and hurt that flooded your heart last night. He kissed you back just as eagerly, pulling you off the stool and closer to him, your chests pressing together.

You finally pulled away to gasp for breath, your forehead still pressed against Joe’s.

“I love you too, you asshole,” you breathed out, earning a chuckle from Joe. He pulled back to look at you, gently caressing your cheek with his thumb. “You think I’d uproot my entire life and move across the country if I wasn’t completely in love with you?”

Joe’s face lit up before he dove in for another kiss.

“Does this mean you forgive me?” he asked, running his hands up and down your sides. You pursed your lips as you thought it over.

“I’ll only forgive you if you help me finish unpacking,” you reasoned, a smirk playing at your lips. Joe beamed, pulling you closer to him so you were practically in his lap.

“So you’re gonna stay?”

“Of course I’m staying. Why stay in a hotel when I can stay with my former best friend?” Joe’s brows furrowed.

“Former?”

“I guess I just figured ‘love of my life’ was a better title for you,” you revealed with a smile, running your fingers through his auburn locks. Joe pulled you in for another searing kiss, standing up and pressing you against the island, earning a squeal from you. After a moment, he pulled away, grabbing your hand and practically running down the hall towards the guest room, pancakes long forgotten.

✧✧✧

Permanent Taglist (crossed out names won’t let me tag): @queenlover05, @mrhoemazzello, @madamsledge, @sadhwstudent, @johndeaconshands, @puffnstuff08

#joe mazzello #joe mazzello x reader #joe mazzello x you #joe mazzello imagine #joe mazzello fic #joe mazzello fanfic #joe mazzello angst #joe mazzello fluff

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sweetestlamb · 4 years ago

Text

Stronger Part 2 (Get Lost)

Summary: Mun-yeong makes amends with someone very special in her life and confronts someone she didn’t expect to see.

Notes: I cackle manically every time I write this story, it’s a problem LMAO. I’ll try to update at least once a week since it’s such short chapters and I have most of it planned in my head since I’ve been thinking about this forever.

Sang-in finds her sobbing on the edge of the staircase, her whimpers painfully loud in the room, wet streaks pouring from her eyes. He simply takes her hand, she's limp in his arms it's clear he was expecting a fight, but she simply doesn't have anymore in her.

Like a small child she lets him pull her into her room and deposit her in the bed, cocooning her in the thick sheets and wiping her tears with a soft handkerchief he pulls from his pocket. He mumbles soft words of comfort to her, there there and it'll be okay, and she wants to lash out, yearns to thrash and scream that nothing will ever be okay. She's not okay.

However he'd seemed okay. Gang-tae. After a moment's pause it seemed he was fine to just walk out the door and leave her in the past. She'd been a small blip in the grand scheme of his life, a petulant child that wouldn't take his rejections and stabbing words for what they were, deterrents.

CAUTION:DO NOT ENTER.

But she'd thought herself special, what they had unusual, she'd opened up to him about things no one else has ever known. It seemed like he had done the same for her, secrets whispered in the dark of night.

With him she'd been different. Leaving herself open in ways she'd never imagined before and her greatest fear had been recognized, he had seen her core and smashed it to pieces only to return with empty words and promises.

I'm sorry.

Those were the words she longed to hear, but he never uttered them. Not once. And it appeared he never would, he would continue to push her away and pull her back when it was convenient for him. And she was expected to wait for his cue, an obedient dog that should accept abuse and callous words.

It was hard to pinpoint when he'd tamed her and made her so pathetic, but she had no intentions of remaining this way.

I will be better.

Stronger.

It takes day before she feels enough like herself before she leaves the bed, showering and arranging herself into some semblance of the person others have come to expect.

Hair perfectly combed and curled.

Deep wine dress with a high collar and ruffles.

Expensive towering heels, sharp enough to draw blood and a small bag worth more than rent.

Her heart is still broken but he hasn't called or text, further proving her point. She is expendable.

With a deep sigh and a final look in the mirror she leaves.

"Hello." She greets, head bowed in respect, feeling suddenly shy and not knowing what to do with this novel emotion.

Ju-ri's mother, Soon-duk smiles warmly at her before stepping aside to let her in. Her shoulder heats up from the motherly hand that leads in her.

"Come in, it's nice to see you. You look beautiful today."

She feels her cheeks pinken from the compliment, the woman is perpetually praising her and it's so uncommon that she finds herself basking in the warmth.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, are you looking for Ga--"

"No." The strength and conviction of her response causes the woman to step back as shock colors her face. She doesn't doesn't want to hear his name. She still isn't strong enough to do so without crumbling.

"I'm here to see Sang-tae. I want to apologize to him."

Soon-duk looks taken back before a wider smile fills her face, absently she wonders how the woman looked in her youth she's quite beautiful in her own regard. One day maybe she'll say those words aloud and watch her reaction.

"He only left his room yesterday, he's upstairs on the roof. He'll be happy to see you."

She silently hopes those words are true, she's never had a friend before, a true one that didn't run when things became hard or turned their back on you because others found you unusual. Sang-tae has come to mean a lot to her, someone who sees her and accepts her and challenges her. A true friend.

At first, he's reluctant to speak to her running and locking himself away, forcing her to speak to him through the bedroom window.

She explains herself in a language that they've both come to understand, fairy tales. A language she is fluent in and has used to share her deepest feelings with others.

Interprets the story of The Boy Who Cried Wolf, tells him of her impenetrable loneliness, she's been alone for so long but having a friend has shown her the beauty of letting others in, so much so the thought of going back to the way she lived sounds unimaginable and cruel.

There is silence, long and crawling after she's done speaking, she waits patiently staring at the moon.

Then finally he responds, "Are you lonely? Is that what the story means? Are you lonely Ko Mun-yeong?"

He never sugar-coats anything, never spares her feelings, that's what she's come to like about him. He's unapologetic and frank, just as she is with him treating him exactly how she treats others.

"You're not answering. If you want me to forgive you, you have to be sincere. If you're sincere then I will believe you otherwise you're just crying wolf."

She smiles humorlessly, to be so understood by one who has difficulties connecting to others is unsettling.

"Yes. I'm lonely. I miss you, I miss my best friend."

The sound of the window opening echoes and suddenly they are face to face, his brows drawn in consternation.

"You're telling the truth, your face doesn't look like you're lying."

She nods, "I am. I'm sorry I made you feel left out, I should have been honest with you. I promise I will be in the future."

He tilts his head cutely like a puppy before imploring, "Will you have fun with Gang-tae without me again? You can't have him."

The similar tinge of pain that implodes every time she hears his name detonates in her heart but she fights through it desperate to reconcile with Sang-tae.

"I won't. I just want to be your best friend again, he's yours; he's always been yours."

It hurts, like a throbbing wound that has reopened but she means it. Gang-tae was never truly hers, she was merely his mistress a dirty secret to hide away, temporary and it was time to accept that but she could still repair her relationship with Sang-tae, he made everything a little bit better. A dash of happiness.

Sang-tae looks surprised by her answer but he doesn't question her thankfully, instead rewarding her with a smile, it's tiny but it makes her heart grow three times larger.

Maybe all wasn't lost and she could fix the wrongs she'd made.

They make plans to see each other in two days, they need to work on their book, she has some ideas for a storyline. She's always written about her suffering, this time will be no different.

She hears him before she sees her, she screams at her body to move, flee but he flight or fight is broken, halted by his sudden unexpected appearance. She was told he was working overtime, news provided by Sang-in from Ju-ri.

Defying her information, he turns the corner with Jae-su and immediately like they are opposite magnets their eyes gravitate to each other. She watches him pause mid-laughter. His smile melting off his face as he watches her.

Jae-su babbles on unaware of his friends condition, slapping at his shoulder and guffawing at whatever hilarious story he'd been regaling before he too notices the eerie silence. When he notices her dark figure he jumps, hiding behind Gang-tae.

His reaction is enough to drag her from her stillness, her eyes dropping to the ground she makes her way to her car, keys jingling as she pulls them from her bag.

Behind her Gang-tae's deep voice rumbles as he speaks to Jae-su, his words are indecipherable. Taking deep breaths she quickens her movements, cursing herself as her key falls from her hand in her rush, clanking on the ground.

Before she can retrieve them, his hand fills her vision as he picks them up for her, sheepish grin on his face.

She takes the proffered keys from his hands, nodding in acknowledgment before opening the door and sliding into the seat. She goes to close the door when she feels resistance, she pulls harder but still the door refuses to close.

Glancing up she finds his hand on the door, prying it open his muscled hand flexing as he prevents the door from closing.

Finally lowering her hand, she turns to look at him. Staring at him with passive eyes, careful not to let anything slip through.

"You came to see me."

His words are a punch to the solar plexus, knocking the breath from her lungs.

Her brain short circuits and then turns back on, whirling at the audacity and confidence that oozes off him. He is failing immensely to keep a small grin off his face, eyes dancing as he looks at her eagerly.

She wants to punch it off his face.

"No. Why would I come to see you?"

His grin cracks.

"I tried to avoid you. I wanted to see Sang-tae and now that I have, I'll be going. Let go of my car."

His entire face crumbles like sand under a boot, his hand falls to his side as he gazes at her with soft pleading eyes. The amount of times those eyes are rendered her helpless makes her recoil in disgust.

"What's wrong with you? I don't understand why you're being like this! I tried to give you space but I don't get it, I opened up to you isn't that what you've been begging for!"

His anger cracks at her whip sharp, and all the rage deep beneath her surface bubbles up as she turns to glare at him.

"I want nothing to do with you. I'm sorry I ever met you, leave me alone. I will not be begging you for anything in the future." Reaching over to pick up the object she had stored in the backseat, she throws it harshly at him, it bounces off his chest.

"You can have Mang-tae, I don't need it anymore. Just like I don't need you. I only need Sang-tae. You got your wish I'll get lost, you do the same."

Satisfaction surges under her skin as she watches the hurt bloom on his face, his eyes open and expressive screaming at her but she slams up all her walls, she will not be weak any longer.

No fucking way.

Turning the key viciously in the ignition, the engine revs to life and he's forced to jump back to avoid losing his foot as she screeches off, smoke left in her wake.

She watches him getting smaller and smaller in the side mirror, before reversing.

A small hopeful glint flashes in his eyes, she immediately snuffs that out.

"I need my car back, you can give the keys to Sang-tae. "

The tires squeal as she peels out again, manic smile on her face as she laughs, elated at the look on his face. Finally she is the one abandoning him, the one to hurt and belittle. Her deep chuckles boom in the small space of the car as she drives back to her castle and its ominous silence.

Her lap is warm and wet from the tears that escape, she allows herself this final moment of anguish. These are the last tears she'll waste crying over him and their ill-fated romance.

#psycho but it's okay #psycho but it's okay fanfiction #its okay to not be okay fic #its okay to not be okay #ko mun yeong #moon gang tae #kim soo hyun #seo ye ji #MY makes GT work for her forgiveness #next chapter will be GT pov #the groveling will start #I love the boy #but sometimes he's an idiot #and mean

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trillian-anders · 4 years ago

Text

s’mores

pairing: chef!bucky x plus!reader

warnings: fluff, domesticity,

word count: 1.8k

description: chef!au; you and bucky have a bedtime routine

just a taste masterlist

“What is that?” Bucky stepped up from the couch to help you at the door, the fifty-pound box you were trying to slide across the floor. You grin up at him,

“A firepit.”

Now that the inside decor was mostly taken care of you were slowly piecing together something for your small patio. You’d been bringing home cushion covers, string lights, a crate for blankets. “For when it gets cold.” You tell him. But he was happy to let you do whatever made you happy. And this seemed to make you really happy.

It was an odd day off for him. After giving Sam a few days off for him and Wanda to travel upstate to a bed and breakfast for their anniversary he pushed Bucky to take some time off for himself. The only problem with that was, you’d been busy all week.

It was the end of another quarter, a big project that Stark was trying to launch, some app that you didn’t really explain too much to him about because it was mostly for corporations to see what quality of workplace they were creating. It had something to do with hours of work, versus difficulty of work, versus pay and formulated a score. And with this score it would show you how to improve the quality of work for employees.

Needless to say, in testing, Tony had given you a raise among many others.

But it took up a lot of your time.

Which is why he was so surprised you came home with the firepit anyway. The two of you were listening to music and sitting outside, Bucky on the ground while you sat on the cozy deep outdoor couch that you’d given him heart eyes over when you’d originally gone shopping for outdoor furniture.

“Can you hand me that screwdriver, right there?” He asked, holding his hand out for you to hand the tool to him, which you did, while also letting him take a sip of your old fashioned. His own long since finished but hadn’t quite gotten up to make another. “Thank you.”

You were anxiously waiting for him to finish. A pile of sticks off to the side you’d already collected along with a couple of large branches you’d snapped and what was left of the briquettes from the grill just in case it wasn’t enough and beside you on the coffee table he’d pushed out of the way, marshmallows, chocolate bars, and graham crackers.

He flipped the metal base over, pushing himself off the ground he moved it a comfortable distance away while you sipped on the strong drink, admiring the view of your boyfriend bending over in front of you.

“What do you think?” He asked. You grin up at him,

“It’s perfect.” You stood while he went inside to make more drinks, laying the dry sticks and branches on top of the briquettes, using old newspaper from the move to stuff in the sides and light. The sun was just setting, the outdoor string lights flipping on their timer. You hum contently and stick a marshmallow on a skewer. You twisted it around in the flame until it was bubbly and brown, pulling it out as soon as Bucky joined you back outside.

You held the melty fluff to him and he wrapped his mouth around the marshmallow, pulling it off the skewer before sitting down. Munching happily while he handed you a drink.

“Thank you.” You grin at him, a sweet marshmallow and bourbon kiss. Next time the marshmallow was melted and you smushed it between the two graham crackers and a couple squares of chocolate, happily taking a bite while Bucky pulled the blanket across your laps.

“This was a great idea.” He mumbled over a mouth full of s’more. You sip on your drink, a pleasant buzz going through your body, leaning back into his chest as you worked on your second s’more.

“How do you think Sam’s doing?” You ask. It was a Friday night after all. The first Friday night that Bucky hadn’t worked since the restaurant opened. He kept glancing at his phone in worry. Like maybe Sam would need him. He was also checking the numbers, sales. A 10k hour.

“They did a 40k lunch today which isn’t bad for a Friday lunch.” That was busy. So they were hoping to do another 50k at least for dinner, “But we are looking closer to 75,” Bucky was worried but he knows and trusts Sam to handle it.

“Maybe you should have taken off during the week.” You take a sip. “You’d be able to relax more.”

“Yeah, but you’re not off during the week.” You sigh, leaning further into his shoulder, his arm wrapped around you squeezing you to his side.

“Still… it would have made you worry less about what’s going on in the restaurant.” He pulls his skewer from the fire, blowing on the marshmallow that had caught fire and he popped it into his mouth.

“Maybe.” It’s so comfortable. The silence. The radio still playing softly in the background as you both get lost in the flames. Both chocolate bars gone, Bucky munched on graham crackers and the two of you finished off most of the marshmallows. He tasted like sugar and bourbon. A soft kiss on your cheek and then on your mouth, soft fingers tilting your head towards his. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too.” His tongue is soft, slow. Bucky liked to savor everything, even kissing. His fingers brushing your neck made you shiver. Your lips parting in a soft moan against his. His other hand comes to your leg, tapping it gently before helping you straddle his lap, the blanket falling around your hips, his fingers tracing figures down your back while you slowly kiss. Your fingers finding his hair, scratching gently on his scalp.

You broke for air, resting your head on his shoulder, wrapping your arms around him as he hugged you to his body. You could almost fall asleep. The smell of just him, clean and masculine. The warmth between you. Work had been so stressful this week and you’d looked forward to spending the entire weekend with him. It was the only thing that made you make it through the workweek. Truly. And this hug, those sweet kisses, this closeness, it was giving your brain a much-needed rush of serotonin and you could feel yourself growing drunk with it.

“I love you so much.” You mumble into his neck, the fire warm on your back.

“I love you too baby.” He rubs your back for a moment, “You wanna go to bed?” A soft nod into his neck. “I’ll put this fire out, go ahead, I’ll meet you up there.”

He wasn’t far behind, meeting you at the sink to brush his teeth. You look at him in the mirror, watching him brush, to which he gives you a silly look, moving back to let you spit into the sink and grab mouthwash. A minty kiss after.

You change into some sleep shorts and an old t-shirt, rubbing lotion on your legs and moisturizer on your face while he changes and washes his face.

Bucky had this skin care routine, and he was very diligent with it, but then again his skin was very nice and clear for working in a kitchen and sweating for 75% of his time. The next part of the nighttime routine was probably the hardest.

He would sit next to you on your side of the bed and you’d take the medicated steroid cream given to him by his doctor and rub it into his left arm. The first time you’d done it you didn’t ask how it happened, “I can’t reach fully on my back.” He said. But he applied this cream every day to give the skin its flexibility back. It was stiff and hard to move sometimes. The tattoos he’d gotten, “They did more harm than good.” The inky swirls and Aphrodite herself, he’d gotten them before he went to war. The full sleeve. “There was an accident,” He told you, “It was friendly fire.” What almost blew his arm off was, of all things, friendly fire.

Against Doctor’s orders Bucky enraged the flesh more by going back to his tattoo artist and having the guy fix what he could on the healing and mottled flesh. “I was a dumb kid,” he said, “I thought I was doing the right thing.” Joining the war. “But they just chew you up and spit you out, thank you for your service and sorry but you’re going to be on the phone calling trying to get help every day for the next however many years of your life.” And it hurt you. It hurt you that he’d gone through this. Trying to get the military to pay for his hospital bills, the corrective surgeries, all the pins and rods in his arm. “I’ve got more metal than bone.”

You did what you could, rubbing the steroid cream into his arm, massaging the sore muscles he’d never complain were sore, working the joints of his fingers and massaging it into his back. The heel of your palm digging into his left shoulder at the knots that would form there from the stress on it. A kiss to the back of his neck and you went to wash the cream off your hands.

When you return the covers are turned down, Bucky already scrolling through the sales app on his phone. “He’s fine.” You scold him, climbing into bed. “Put your phone down.” Bucky sighs and darkens the screen, placing it on the end table.

“I know he’s fine…”

“You need to relax.” You softly kiss him, cuddling up into his side. “Sam can handle it, just like you did.”

“I don’t know about all that,” He jests. “He’s terrible at multitasking.” You roll your eyes, the room partially dark save for the light coming from the cracked door of the bathroom. A must for Bucky.

“You’re terrible at multitasking.” You mumble into his chest.

“That’s not what you were telling me yesterday.” Your core pulsed at that, the memory drifting back. You lift up to glare at him, a cheeky grin on his face. “You’re so beautiful.” He licks his lips, “Did you know that?”

“You’re a suck up.” You scoff, burying your head back into his chest, “Did you know that?”

“I love you baby.” His fingers tracing patterns on your back, your eyes beginning to find that tiredness you’d had on the patio.

“I love you too.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #chef!bucky #plus!reader #sebastian stan #captain america #sam wilson #the falcon and the winter soldier #tfatws

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