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pseudocitrus · 2 years ago

Text

reflections on writing this:

link’s personality

this is the first chapter where i wrote link’s personality and i was NERVOUS. (because of aforementioned anxieties about writing a silent protagonist.)

but in the end it was just fun. i tried to pull in a bit of the snarkyness you can sense from dialogue options. i also really liked writing his pov as more direct just so he sounds like, different than zelda.

in earlier posted drafts of link’s negative self-talk, i had him calling himself an idiot but ended up removing it in favor of being more specific about how the voice inside him (which overlaps his own voice 😢) mandates his activity based on expectations of his destiny. i like that that method ended up allowing for a little more like background information and context for link. also it just suited his character more in this fic bc link imo doesn’t think of himself as “stupid” per se.

i really also enjoyed writing him here with his casual intrusive thoughts about food and wanting to eat various things in the environment. for me this was a particularly fun way to utilize the whole show don’t tell advice thing (which i know is it always the technique to use 100% of the time, but which i enjoyed using here.)

also i honestly hate cold sandwiches. sorry. i despise them they’re literally the worst

The Arc™

i was trying to go for a feeling that “chapter 1 was about zelda realizing that link has an inner world that he doesn’t speak about. chapter 2 is about link realizing zelda has an inner world that she doesn’t speak about.”

i think in my original outline i wanted to be even more clear that zelda in particular grows really comfortable with link bc he doesn’t act disapproving or put off by her infodumping, but i just never quite got like REALLY there in this chapter so i hope that that ended up just being like, implied. in the end the only character that actually comments about the infodumping is mipha who does it in the nicest way possible but still makes zelda self-conscious.

rendering different languages in italics

recently i've been reading recommendations that if you are using a word from "a different language," one thing to consider is to not put it in italics but just let it be. in that spirit, i tried writing out sign language in quotes so it would really read as just identical to spoken language, but in the end i kept it in italics for this story. i really enjoyed the extra dimension and emphasis that gave me for certain conversations, like mipha speaking to link in sign with a voice that is more open and flirtatious, but using spoken language to talk formally to a servant, and then using spoken language again at the end of their conversation, when she is emotionally closing herself off to link.

link and mipha

i’m not gonna lie, when i was writing link & mipha i enjoyed rendering their banter & chemistry so much that writing link & zelda scenes after was a comedown HAHA. after writing their scene in this chapter i was almost like…..wait………WHAT is the appeal of zelink again???

i feel kind of proud about this section bc in the first draft i just sort of had mipha and link talking to each other before going to bed, but when i was reviewing i had this like eerie sense that something wasn’t quite right, and honestly I think that part of it was bc i really REALLY felt their chemistry when writing them and was just like “WAIT…why wouldn't these two work actually??”

and i knew already that i wanted to explore the whole digidestined "you're the only one who understands me" thing so i added that portion about mipha still ultimately seeing link in relation to his duties as a hero, and unfortunately not being able to see his like current self even if she did know him as a child (sorry mipha). then i balanced it out & showed her alienating zelda too with the whole “wow hime-sama you, a princess, liking bugs????” (SORRY MIPHA!!!!!)

anyway i hope that this was also good setup for the final scene, where link and zelda connect with each other via their respective hyperfixations, which we all know is a sign of True Love.

how link comforts zelda without words of affirmation

i’ve been taking writing classes recently and in one of them, students (including me 😬) would often in their insecurities like be really apologetic about their writing before talking about it, like oh this part sucks or this part i feel is weak blah blah blah. and something that struck me about this teacher was that………they NEVER responded to it 😅 like they wouldn’t leap to “oh it’s fine” or “oh no you are not sucky, you are a great writer!!!” anyway that method of just not really engaging with someone’s negative blurts was kind of fascinating to me. (and for me personally definitely did not encourage me to continue talking that way lmao because i wouldn’t really get validated anyway. NOT that i am advocating for this to be 100% the technique you use with everyone all the time.)

ANYWAY, that’s the approach i took with link too and how he contrasts to other characters and how they engage with zelda and her anxieties. for example, when zelda is struggling with herself in the hebra cave chapter, urbosa takes the strategy of comforting her immediately and saying everything is fine, zelda is doing great. revali takes the strategy of trying to change the subject and in general trying to avoid any thought that might make zelda feel negative. as for link, he absorbs her venting and then does something to remind zelda she’s an individual and/or does something to make her happy directly or otherwise fill her emotional tank back up. which i guess could be considered a type of distraction but it’s less about avoidance if that makes sense. anyway.

sidenote: i always know when i’m entering a depressed and/or burned out arc of my life because i will end up sleeping a lot just to be like unconscious, etc. etc. i’m fine these things come and go, and also in this story that's the spirit in which i wrote zelda just like passing out at times.

zelda’s feelings 4 her knight

in the game i feel like it’s pretty clear she falls for link when he saves her from the yiga so this chapter just builds on that with her being embarrassed about touching him and seeing him take off his clothes and stuff. i think my favorite part of this to write was link grabbing zelda’s hand to put the butterfly on it and she’s like 😱😳 and he’s like, ah….she’s scared of the butterfly…..

rewriting & rewriting & rewriting

maybe because this chapter is early on in the fic when i’m still trying to figure out the structure and how to write link—but i ended up rewriting SO MUCH. and cutting out so many lines and scenes that i really kinda liked but couldn’t make happen.

one example:

Link touched her sleeve. She let herself be led down into her room, which seemed more out of exhaustion and indifference than because she agreed it would be good not to get drenched.

or this other one that originally came right after visiting Goron City (but which i moved to the end so that the goron spice bottle could instead be the concluding/climatic element):

When they rode out, his mind was heavy. “Link. Link.” Link jerked up. Had she been calling him? Was there a threat? He reached for the Sword. But Zelda, though she looked nervous, didn’t seem afraid. “Um,” she said. “Here. A present for you.” Link took it. It was a bottle of Goron Spice. “You wanted this,” she said. “Right?” No, he wanted to say. What would a Hero do with this? But he couldn’t. He stared at her. Stared down at the bottle. Finally, he looked at her again.

Thank you. “Of course.” Her expression, her smile, was different than any other one she’d seen. Gentle. A little sheepish. He added it to his memory, to try and interpret later. He raised his hands, and Zelda peered at him intently, clearly eager to know what he would say. For her, he said it slowly. We don’t have to go. If you don’t want to. Her face fell. “Oh. No…we should.” He tried again. If we don’t go today, I won’t say anything. She almost—almost—laughed. But in the end she said, “It’s my duty. I…I must.” And so they set off for the Spring of Power.

[…]

[At Zora’s Domain, at the end of talking with Mipha] He shifted in his seat. In his pocket, he felt a tiny clink, and for a moment thought that it was some spare rupee. But his rummaging hand withdrew the bottle of spice. There was a time earlier, with the stew or maybe the skewers, when he could have scraped out the waxed stopper and tried peppering it over something. He hadn’t.

^^^^^ i also had specifically wanted to contrast link’s feeling of his childhood self being a discarded rupee, with the bottle physically in his pocket……it made sense at the time oKaY!!!!!!

there's also this one that i just thought was a cute and fun detail that i ended up just not really finding a place for ultimately:

Unlike the claymores that the armmasters had given him to try, the Sword was never too heavy for him.

or this one where zelda like keeps food-blocking link (and then ultimately cut bc i just like didn’t want to take the time to write zelda being like, “uh no it’s fine that you hunt animals for food”)

It was not how he always imagined his destiny would look. Frankly, he’d thought it would be more boring. Once, he had followed Mipha, crept to some secret but of cliff overlooking Zora court meeting, and had to scramble for excuses when he fell asleep and, hours later, woke to the shouts of diplomats worrying that he’d drowned somewhere. And, sure—standing still at the libraries, the Springs, was not very stimulating. But accompanying the Hyrulean princess across the wilds suited him, especially when they went for handfuls of days with nothing but the sun in his hair, and its breath in his ear, telling him of animals nearby, of forage, of rivers and glistening stone. And he saw more of Zelda as well. When there were no settlements to stay in, he pitched a tent where his instinct and senses told him it was safest. She examined foliage and stones for mushrooms—A bird-, bug-, and fungus-lover, then. Once, they settled near a pond, and he licked his lips as he spotted the unmistakable ruby dart of fish beneath the surface. But before he could retrieve line and bait from his pocket, Zelda gasped. “Link! Fish! What are they—some kind of bass? Staminoka Bass. They’re so big. And pretty.” Birds, bugs, fungi, AND fish. Link sighed and rummaged through their saddle packs. Inside were remnants of what the castle had reassured him were sandwiches. They ate while fireflies rose and bobbed around them.

the above used to be how the chapter started mostly. it's kind of a textbook example (for me) of like when i don't actually know what i'm writing so it starts off a bit boring and general until i hone in on a scene that's like. more interesting to start off with. (actually i still think the start of this chapter as it is could still be jazzed up a little bit...but anyway. maybe the fact that it's a perspective change is intriguing enough on its own.

catching a thunderwing butterfly

you will not believe how annoyed i was trying to catch summerwings and smolderwings (?) for the fricken ember set.

also the bottle is kind of a reference to ocarina of time! 🥰 inasmuch as uh the mere concept of bottle can be a reference.

Chapter 2: A memory of storms (~6k words)

“There, Link. See?” He didn’t. She had to spell it out for him. “Thunderwing Butterflies. There. See? Right there.” Oh. Well, obviously he’d seen those. “They only emerge in stormy conditions,” she continued. She raised the Sheikah Slate up and down, trying to capture an image of one. The only thing the device recorded was a gray smear. Her mouth bunched, annoyed. Her gaze tilted, in thought. He saw the exact moment she made her decision. He grabbed her sleeve, to stop her from tromping into the rain. Getting soaked through will make you sick, he signed. Worse, you’ll die outright from lightning. “I don’t mind my hair getting wet,” she told him, clearly not understanding a single word he’d said. As if what ancient legend prophesied was that the bearer of the Sword that Seals the Darkness was someone who would ensure her appearance was impeccable at all times. He needed to check her sign textbook. It obviously contained nothing useful.

link: hero of legend, knight attendant, and catcher of butterflies in storms. also 100% trauma 0% emotional awareness >>>> continue reading on ao3 >>>>

#mine #navel writing #long post

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arknights-imagines · 3 years ago

Note

waahh hi i love ur writing!! can i request an affectionate doctor having a sweet kissing session with executor + silverash? i just wanna give them a lot of affection and make them feel always loved 😭

Anon hiya!! 🥳 Tysm for this request sgsugshs it's so cute and I love it!! 😭🥺 Executor and SilverAsh are some of my favourites to write for sgsugshs 💕 I tried to make it as soft and lovey-dovey as I could so I hope you and everyone else likes it 👉👈

Also, because Executor's Birthday was July 7th I gave him some extra love in his part svshsv!! 🎂🥳 He deserves a break lolol 🥺 so Happy (late) Birthday Executor and happy reading to everyone!! 🥺🥳

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Kissing sessions with Executor and SilverAsh

Imagine format; mixed perspectives! (written in second person)

Contains: SilverAsh, Executor, gender neutral Doctor as the reader, brief mentions of background characters, established relationships, kissing described in detail, lots of soft fluffiness 🥺, barely suggestive material in SilverAsh's part?? 🤔, Executor being hesitant and unsure in his part, reader/Doctor being very soft in both parts svjsgshs

Word count: 2.7k in total!

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

SILVERASH

“My dear...you’re still working?”

SilverAsh’s eyes had just read the last sentence of the novel in his hand, and now they looked at you with surprise. He had expected you to have lied down in your small bed with him by the time he closed his book - but as it turned out, you were still sat at your desk nearby and going through papers.

The Feline’s voice interrupting your work caused you to blink slowly, and then you turned your attention towards him, expression meek. “You’re awake? I thought you went to sleep…” “And I thought you would be away from your desk by now.” His reply came with a lift of the brow. SilverAsh set his book beside him before propping himself up on his forearm as you sighed, “I’m almost done, I’ll come to bed soon.”

Unconvinced, the Guard Operator stood from the bed, his height allowing him to make his way towards your desk in just a few strides. You had already picked your pen back up and returned to your papers by the time he set his hands on your shoulders - his touch gentle, but firm.

Before you could shoo him away, SilverAsh lowered his lips to your ear - his snow-coloured hair tickled your cheek and his breath was warm as he spoke in a low, smooth tone that met your ears like melted chocolate, “I must say, my dear…” He met your gaze from the corner of your eye before he continued, “I’ve stayed with you this entire evening, and yet I still find myself longing for you.”

When his gaze met yours, his eyes were warm and serious despite the playful lift of his brow. A quiet apology came from you in reply, one of your hands lifting to rub at your heavy eyelids. Humming in acknowledgment, the Feline’s hands left you momentarily in order to spin your desk chair around before they returned to your shoulders - this time his fingers slid down your arms and took your hands in his own.

You had expected him to gently usher you to bed, but what came instead made your eyes grow wide. In a few swift movements, SilverAsh took your place on your desk chair and pulled you to sit in his lap. A small chuckle left him as your eyes searched for his, surprise on your face; when his name left your lips in question, the Guard Operator tilted his head to the side in fake confusion. “Hah...that surprised look on your face, you amuse me so my dear.” His hands came to hold your waist, “You’re tense. Relax for me...after all, no one is better suited to bring you ease than me, isn't that right?”

His eyes were locked with yours, and with every word he whispered to you, he moved his lips closer to yours. He held this sincere warmth that was meant only for you in his gaze; when you looked carefully enough, a glimmer of desire was there as well. Despite that, SilverAsh patiently waited for your reply, his eyes flicking to your lips for a split second or two in order to silently communicate what he wanted from you.

His affectionate gaze caused some of the tension to fade from your body, and you sighed softly; your voice was almost inaudible when you replied, “That’s right, Enciodas.” There was only a sliver of space left between the both of you - you felt him smile before he muttered, “Very good…”

SilverAsh had been moving so slowly, and yet when his lips finally met yours it was as if all his patience left him; his head tilted in order to kiss you deeper and one of his hands drifted up from your waist to cup your jawline. The air around the both of you became warm, and so you practically melted into him. A few seconds into the kiss, your senses were null - but then it all comes rushing towards you.

Your papers are long forgotten when you lifted your hands from his chest to his hair. SilverAsh hummed gently against your lips as your fingers began combing through the fluffy locks - and when your touch grazed his snow leopard ears they twitched slightly, much to your amusement. You thought about taking a second to comment on it, but the Guard Operator didn't seem to want you to pull away, and so the thought faded quickly.

The Feline’s touch attracted all your focus, it’s so warm it's almost burning - or perhaps you were just flustered because of the close proximity, in all honesty, you were far too distracted by the kiss to tell the difference - and on his lips was the cool taste of peppermint. It was a stark contrast, the mix of hot and cold was so distinctive that you were sure you’d be thinking about it later on; though it was unbeknownst to you, SilverAsh certainly hoped so.

As the kiss came to a close both of you stilled, wordlessly taking in every detail of each other.

For someone who everyone said was ruthless and shrewd, SilverAsh encompassed so much tenderness in moments like these. When it came to you, his hands were so gentle, his voice was so soft, and his gaze was so warm; but no one else would ever be able to understand that side of him, because he reserved it for you and you only.

“E-Enciodas…” When the two of you finally broke away from each other, his name fell from your lips breathlessly. Taking his hand from your waist, he gently ran it up and down your back, “There you are, my dear. Ease up for me.” His soft gaze met yours, and a smile painted his lips when he noticed the rosy blush on your cheeks - you weren't expecting him to act so bold all of a sudden, but you had no complaints. Your head dropped to his shoulder, and he sighed in content as an easing warmth came over his own body. You were always so warm, so soft - he didn't want to ever let go of you.

The kiss had rendered the two of you a little speechless, and so for a while you both sat in serene silence. SilverAsh’s voice cut into the quietness softly after some time, “I apologize, it seems I was rather touch-starved and couldn't handle myself.” You shifted a little in his lap, but didn't say anything in reply. Lifting a brow, the Feline tilted his head in order to whisper into your ear - then your soft snoring met his ears.

He blinked, then a light chuckle came from his lips; you were fast asleep. Well, you had been working all day, so the Guard Operator was glad you were finally resting. If SilverAsh had known a kiss was all it took for you to relax, he would’ve had you asleep hours ago. That was alright, now he knew for next time.

Involuntarily, a grin came to his face as he shut his eyes and let his head rest against yours. Your lips had left a lingering warmth on his own; a warmth that the Feline found comforting, and maybe a little too pleasant. His smile grew - yes, SilverAsh was sure ‘next time’ would be happening quite soon.

EXECUTOR

You really couldn't thank Executor enough for allowing you to come along with him for his mission back at his home country - Laterano was truly breathtaking, from the architecture to the way all the citizens dressed. Considering your position as Rhodes Island’s tactical leader, you understood that accompanying Operators on their missions was a little dangerous and maybe not always necessary, but you had wanted to spend more time with the Sankta so he complied. After all, he could protect you if anything were to go wrong.

The view outside the window you were currently standing before almost felt like a dream. You understood that there was work to be done, and that Executor only agreed to stop at a hotel room because he knew you were both tired from talking around and trying to find intel pertaining to the mission but still - taking the time to relax couldn't hurt.

By the time you both settled into the hotel room, the sun had just begun to set; Executor had explained that it was going to be an uneventful evening, mostly just paperwork and going through flies.

“Doctor,” As cool and steady as always, Executor’s voice cut into your silence - your rapt attention went to him as he approached you, moving into your peripheral vision, “You should take this time to rest. Our work tomorrow begins very early in the morning, and I do not know when we will be able to have a break.” As you turned to face him an appreciative smile came to your lips, “You should rest too, Executor.” A shake of the head came in reply, which wasn't much of a surprise; “Do not worry about me. The Notarial Hall has requested that I complete multiple reports about the work we accomplished today, so I have no room to rest for very long.”

Your smile fell slightly. He had more work to do on top of what had already been assigned to him by Amiya? The Sankta before you took note of your mood shift right away; eyes thoughtful, he blinked for a second then spoke once more in a softer tone, “...However, if you wish for me to take some time to rest with you, then very well.” A little sheepishly, you looked off to the side before admitting that you were concerned with all the work he was deluging himself with. A bit of warmth broke onto Executor’s usually calm, unreadable facial expression as he began to remove his distinctive uniform coat; “I appreciate that. I do not want to cause you to worry over my wellbeing, so I will take some time to rest.”

Pleased, your grin returned - wider this time. The Sniper Operator’s demeanor grew warmer at your visible content. Quiet, he joined you in staring out at the sunset beyond the hotel room window. The air around you two was quiet, serene; but something was pulling on inside your chest, wanting to move closer to Executor. And so, your hand found his, and ever-so-slowly you laced your fingers together. Under your unexpected touch, the Sankta stiffened by a hair. He read something on your face, something that caused him to drop the formalities and call you by the nickname he had started getting used to addressing you as, “Hm...yes, love?”

Too focused on how your hand felt in his, you didn't reply. Instead, you turned to meet his gaze with a soft smile on your lips; a few emotions you couldn't distinguish flashed behind Executor’s eyes for but a split second at the affectionate expression on your face, before the coolness in the blue of his gaze melted into warmth.

His eyebrows furrowed together slightly as he stared back at you, and he opened and closed his mouth a few times before finding his words, “...Please excuse me, I… I cannot read your expression.” Emotions weren’t the Sankta’s strong-suit in any sense, but considering how understanding you had always been towards him, he wasn’t afraid to admit so. Voice just above a whisper, you assured him it was alright and let him know he could come a little closer. His hand remained in yours as he did so, shoulders tight and posture a little tense while his free hand hovered a little awkwardly at your side; you chimed with a light laugh at his behaviour, “It’s okay, you can touch me Executor.”

Executor was a little uncertain, but after a few seconds his hand settled comfortably on your waist and the other squeezed your hand ever-so-gently. Then he admitted to you quietly, “I am unsure on where to put my hands.” You shook your head, “This is perfect, don't worry.” The space between the both of you was barely a sliver as you leaned closer to him, expression still full of affection; his eyes flicked down to your lips, and yours glanced at his. Facial cues were something the Sniper Operator failed to understand, but the warmth balling itself in his chest told him to pull you closer. His mind told him that this wasn't appropriate, that his focus should be on his mission and his work, not on you; but the tugging in both his chest and yours was so intense that there was no use pulling back now.

And so, the Sankta finally broke the silence. “Love?” He paused, debating on whether or not he should speak, before mumbling his words against your mouth slowly, “May I kiss you?” He didn't have to ask - you replied in a small nod and Executor wasted no time closing the space between your lips and his own.

Gentle, careful; those weren’t words the others at Rhodes Island would associate Executor with, and yet that was all that ran through your mind when his lips captured yours. And his lips, they tasted sweet; as if he had just eaten a slice of cake or a spoonful of sugar. It was so stark considering how cold and stoic he appeared, but you couldn’t help but adore it. It was almost poetic - maybe you were the only one who would be able to witness and receive this sweetness from the Sankta.

He leaned into your touch when your hand came to cradle his cheek, and his arm slipped around your waist in order to pull you closer - so close that he was certain you could feel his heartbeat against your chest. But that was what he wanted and you allowed him to do so. Your fingers began running through his hair, pushing the white strands away from his face. Executor almost melting. The Sankta’s usual mechanic mind completely malfunctioned at both your close proximity and touch; every gear jammed and every cog stopped turning.

For Executor, this was so utterly odd. On the battlefield, the Sniper Operator was anything but hesitant; when his gun was in his hands, he knew exactly what to do. But with you - when it was you in his hands, his mind was overcome with uncertainty and all his thoughts became incoherent, all because of you. It always made his chest fill with warmth, it always made his stomach flutter, it always made his heart beat too fast, and yet it always felt so right.

When the Sankta ran out of air, he broke away gently; his eyes slipped open to meet your own as he rested his face in your palm. Your voice was soft against his lips, “Are you okay?” Giving you the softest expression, he unwrapped his arm from your waist so he could hold your hand to his cheek, “Yes love...thank you. This may not make any sense to you, but I feel almost energetic now.” A small chuckle came from you in reply. “You’re welcome, Executor. If you’re feeling so eager, we can get back to work in...just a minute.” Though you said that, you didn't seem to be interested in pulling away, and in all honesty neither was he. Yes, his mission was important; but surely taking a second more to rest with you was okay.

Executor’s gaze observed both you and the surrounding room carefully. You were looking back at him with eyes full of adoration and the most effusive grin, the sun through the window almost caused the rosy flush on your face to glow and was surely glinting off his halo and wings, the sunset-painted room was full of warmth that embraced him like a freshly washed blanket - his heart grew a little more with every detail he took note of.

The Sankta returned back to reality when your head fell on his shoulder and you whispered out a small, sincere confession - “I love you Executor.” His heart leapt and his breath hitched at the three words despite you having said them to him multiple times by then, and as always, he let one of his rare smiles grace his lips and replied right away, not missing a beat: “And I love you - more than I am able to describe.”

Honestly, though he tried as best he could, Executor wasn't sure if those words adequately expressed how thankful he was for you, how much he adored the way the feel of your shared kiss was still on his lips, how badly he wished to hold you and never pull away - but he supposed, if anything, it was enough.

#tysm again for the request anon sbsbjss 🥺#i got all soft while writing this 😭😭#arknights #arknights imagines #arknights silverash #arknights executor #arknights x reader #silverash arknights #executor arknights #arknights imagine #arknights fanfic #arknights fanfics #arknights writing #imagine #imagines #writing #silverash #executor

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nanamixxkento · 4 years ago

Text

Always (Nanami x Female Reader)

Rating: General

Content Warning: mentions of blood/injury.

Word Count: 2,827

A/N: I’m open for Nanami x Reader writing requests.

He was late.

It wasn’t uncommon for Nanami to work overtime but he’d never been this late. The hours ticked by sluggishly, until you were pacing your living room with your heart in your throat and your phone in your hand.

You knew something was wrong. You knew it when you didn’t receive his customary text to let you know he was heading out or working overtime today.

And now you felt it. He was not answering his phone.

The worry got the best of you.

Scrolling through your contacts, you sought out a different number.

“Hello?” Gojo answered on the third ring, nearly making your knees give.

“Gojo,” you breathed, voice wavering. “Thank god you picked up!”

“Y/N? Are you okay?” He immediately sounded concerned, no doubt hearing the anxiety in your voice. “Where are you?”

“I’m fine, I’m at home,” you quickly reassured. “But I don’t think Ken is. He’s late Gojo, he’s so late. And he’s not answering his phone and I haven’t heard from him all day.”

Gojo swore softly. “Give me five minutes, I’ll find out where he was sent and get back to you.”

You went back to pacing, now with a slightly more hopeful note in your chest. With Gojo on Kento’s case, surely you’d at least be able to relax knowing where he was.

However, another anxious thought found you before then. What if ... what if Kento was so hurt he couldn’t attend to his phone? What if he was dying?

Your breath hitched with oncoming tears. That couldn’t be happening. So lost in your grief you nearly jumped when your phone rang again.

“Yes?” You answered wobbly.

“Y/N, I know where he is. But I ... I’m not anywhere close, I can’t go check on him. I asked Ichiji to stop by and he’s on his way—“

“Where is he?” You demanded, now scared.

“Titan High, but it’s too dangerous, don’t you dare try to go there Y/N!”

It was too late, you’d already made up your mind. “Sorry, Gojo but I have to find my husband. Thank you for your help.”

“Y/N—!”

You ended the call, dashing to grab a coat and your keys. If Kento was hurt, if he was grievously injured, like hell you were going to sit around and wait for him to die or be rescued. You didn’t care what happened to you then, as long as you could be with him.

Outside, it was raining relentlessly, the skies the darkest grey. It rendered your vision awash with fuzzy colours but you couldn’t slow down, stomping the pedal and whizzing through the streets with your map giving instructions in the background.

Titan High was on the other side of the city, and you cursed everything alive and dead in the half-hour it took you to get there. It would seem you beat even Ichiji to the deserted location.

You stumbled out of your car, and rushed through the metal gate that was left ajar.

Immediately, you felt the lingering swirls of doom in the air as you drew closer to the doors. You noticed fallen chunks of concrete in the open field, and the deformed soccer goal post.

They were all signs of battle that made adrenaline course heavily through your veins. But if there was one thing you feared more than the invisible monsters Kento fought, it was losing him to said monsters.

You made it through the doors, ringing Kento again and again until you thought you heard the distant ring of his phone. It made you race for the staircase, breath puffing out rapidly and sweat beading on your forehead.

It was several degrees colder on the second floor. One wall was entirely blown out, several windows were completely shattered.

Traipsing through the crumbled wall into the classroom, the first thing you noticed was the dust still hanging in the air. The second thing you noticed was the absence of Kento. And finally, you fished out his cracked phone from under a toppled desk.

By now you were so frustrated and scared you could cry. You clutched his phone in a death grip, trying to breathe through the lump in your throat. He had to be nearby.

This time, you threw your reservations out of the window, opened your mouth and screamed his name over and over hoping he would answer.

Your feet carried you to the third and final floor where more signs of battle left the corridor with dents in the metal doors and shattered floor tiles. You struggled through the wreckage, the dust making you cough until finally you arrived at a broken down supply closet.

The yellow light bulb flickered eerily, casting out just enough light to see a heap on the ground.

“Kento!” You cried, falling to your knees by his bleeding figure.

He was propped up against the metal closet, a wad of tissue paper curled to his bleeding side.

He stirred at your voice, blinking slowly. “Hmm, Y/N?” His blood stained fingers pumped your cheek lightly, and he frowned. “Huh.”

Awareness seemed to slam into him moments later as he made the connection that you were real, and actually crouched there with him in the closet. “Wait—“ he struggled to righten himself, breathing strained and you lurched forward to help him. “What are you doing here? How did you get here? Have you lost your mind!”

He wheezed slightly, his hand clutched his side again as small rivulets of blood trickled out through the tissues.

You looked around wildly for anything to use to stifle his bleeding and got up to rummage through the closet and shelves until you found small packaged towels and rags.

“Please don’t talk,” you pled, distantly aware of the tears streaming down your face as you ripped open package after package and replaced the tissue with the towels.

He hissed as you pressed down on his wound, making your heart twist in your chest. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you sobbed. “We have to stop the bleeding, please just— please hang in there. Ichiji should be here any minute.”

Kento clumsily used the back of his shaking knuckles to wipe your tears. “Hey,” he attempted, still sounding pained. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean ... to yell at you ... you’re okay ... please don’t cry.”

Ichiji found you several minutes later, still crouched over Kento who was thankfully bleeding less now with you there to apply pressure on his wound.

He paled considerably at the sight of the both of you covered in blood, your eyes puffy from tears and Kento’s squeezed shut.

It took the strength of both you and Ichiji to help manoeuvre Kento down three flights of stairs and finally to the backseat of Ichiji’s car.

“To the hospital Ichiji, quickly,” you said, crowding against Kento’s side to press on his wound again.

Half-way through your trip, Gojo called, sounding a little wild over the speakers. “Ichiji, tell me those idiots didn’t get themselves killed!”

“G-Gojo-san,” Ichiji swallowed thickly. “We’re on our way to the hospital—“

“—the hospital?!”

“—because Nanami-san is injured—“

“HOW INJURED?”

Ichiji was sweating bullets now, nervously flexing his fingers over the steering wheel. He’d never heard Gojo-san shouting before and it made him incredibly nervous. “We ... we don’t know yet.”

“Your location, now, Ichiji,” Gojo’s voice came out calmer with a hint of steel underlying it.

“Y-yes, sir!”

“Did you run into Y/N? I swear if something happens to her, Nanami will have me castrated.” Gojo muttered darkly. “Make sure she’s safe, Ichiji, you got that?”

“She’s um, she’s here with me and she can hear you,” Ichiji offered meekly but Gojo had already ended the call.

Silence flooded the car again, but for Kento's harsh, wheezing breaths.

You used your free hand to stroke through the damp wisps of his hair, tugging comfortingly at the crown of his head. “Ken, you have to stay awake,” you told him regrettably, tugging gently at his hair again. “Stay with me.”

He made a soft groaning noise but his eyes cracked open.

“That’s it,” you encouraged, barely managing to hold back a second wave of tears. “Focus on my voice.”

You talked to him about the trip you were organising for next month, where you planned to go, and all the ridiculous endeavours you vowed to pull him into. By the time you reached the hospital, he was struggling to keep his eyes open for a second longer but by then a squad of nurses with a stretcher rushed to his side and you felt some relief wash over you.

You were checked in too, even when you insisted all the blood wasn’t yours, but the elderly nurse in charge gave you one stern look and hooked you to an IV.

Ichiji stayed by your side, shuffling nervously and gulping at every sudden noise, no doubt fearing the appearance of Gojo.

When Gojo appeared an hour later, Ichiji did indeed jump a foot in the air. “G-G-Gojo-san! You made it!”

At least he wasn’t shouting, but something about his expression looked distinctly foreboding. “You,” he pointed a finger at you. “Are an utter idiot!”

You gave him a sheepish look but made no apologies whatsoever.

“What if Nanami hadn’t exorcised the curse, huh? You could’ve died.” He huffed, leaning his long limbs against the wall. “And then I would’ve had to spend the rest of my life avoiding him. Sheesh.”

You shrugged stiff shoulders. “You couldn’t have stopped me.”

“That’s because you’re as stubborn as him!” Gojo said. “And as dumb as him,” he pointed viciously at Ichiji who shuddered.

“I gave you one job,” he told Ichiji. “One. How the hell did she beat you to it?”

Ichiji was looking throughly chastised, sweating profusely with his gaze locked on the floor.

You used your foot to lightly kick Gojo’s ankle. “Stop bullying him,” you said. “It’s not his fault.”

Gojo huffed again, but heeded your wish.

A couple of hours later, you were allowed to see Kento when he finally awoke from his surgery. Gojo and Ichiji lingered awkwardly at the door while you dashed to his side to take his hand and pepper his face with grateful kisses.

Kento wrinkled his nose slightly at you but he was smiling. “Kisses won’t make me less mad at you for putting yourself in danger, Y/N,” he scolded, albeit gently.

“Shut up and accept my love,” you said unfalteringly, earning a laugh from Gojo who finally wandered into the room after you.

“Don’t they just warm the cold cockles of your heart?” He sighed fondly to Ichiji.

“You’re not off the hook either,” Kento threw him a mild glare. “I know you told her where to find me.”

Gojo cleared his throat and ignored him. “I think the moral of today is that we’re all alive. And that’s what we should be talking about. Of course that and the fact that Y/N called you her husband.”

You jolted, flushing as you realised that you did indeed call him that in the heat of the moment earlier.

It was easy to forget sometimes when you and Kento already shared everything. You’d been living together for years, you’d even discussed kids.

You cleared your throat awkwardly. “I think the true moral of today,” you said, “is that Jujutsu sorcerers should never be sent out on solo missions. And you really should invest in some location trackers and an earpiece.”

“Mhmmmm,” Gojo hummed slyly and clapped his hands. “Well now that the lovebirds are reunited, Ichiji and I will see ourselves out, right Ichiji?”

“Yes, sir,” Ichiji yelped, slinking out of the room immediately.

Gojo’s smile was satisfied but it quickly morphed into a serious expression as he gazed at the both of you through his blindfold. “I’m glad you’re okay, Nanami. And Y/N, if you weren’t, I might have had to bring you back to life just to kill you for being an idiot.”

“Yeah, yeah, we love you too Gojo,” you smirked teasingly at him and waved him out.

The exhaustion of tonight’s events were beginning to catch up with you. It was nearing three in the morning and all you wanted was to curl into Kento’s warmth and catch a few hours of rest.

He cleared his throat softly and scooted over. “Come on sleepy head,” he patted the space next to him. “Get in.”

You smiled gratefully as you slid into the cosy space beside him and carefully rested your head on his chest.

The lights overhead dimmed a few minutes later to a hushed warm colour that engulfed the room with shadows.

Kento stroked your hair lightly, his breathing soft but not yet asleep. “I’m sorry I worried you,” he murmured quietly, just as you were beginning to wonder if he was finally falling asleep.

“Ken,” you chided gently. “Go to sleep. There’s nothing to apologise for.”

He hummed contemplatively. “I knew what I was signing up for with this job,” he sighed. “But it never gets easier. Especially that I have you now.”

It wasn’t like Kento didn’t know your true feelings about his occupation. You supported him in everything he did, but that didn’t mean you had to like it. Constantly risking his life would never be something you agreed with.

“I know,” you sighed too, tracing feathery circles over his chest. “It’s not easy for me either. So you can’t blame me for what I did today, okay? Losing you is not an option, I don’t care what your job description entails.”

He squeezed your shoulder lightly, as if to acknowledge your words. “I promise I’ll always come home to you ... even if it means you might occasionally have to haul my ass there yourself.”

You cracked a smile and felt it mirrored against your temple as he pressed a gentle kiss to your brow. “That’s fine by me,” you declared and snuggled closer to him.

Silence descended again but for your rhythmic breathing and the warm thudding of his heart under your ear.

It was a much-needed peace after the storm. He was alive and breathing and in your arms, and you couldn’t have wished for anything more.

“Y/N,” he said a while later, stirring you from the first stages of falling asleep. His thumb was fluttering lightly over your cheekbone, and you suspected the innocent strokes were what was lulling you to sleep.

“Hmm?”

“Did you really call me your husband?”

A wave of butterflies, nerves and surprise cleanly banished any lingering sleep from your system. You attempted a calm, matter-of-fact tone. “Yes.”

You felt the ghost of his smile again. “Was it by accident?”

“Maybe,” you admitted, your cheeks warming. “Does it matter?”

“Maybe,” he echoed and you heard the light humour in his tone. “What if it matters to me to know whether you think of me that way?”

You swallowed. “Well ... we’ve been together for years now. I don’t see myself with anyone else and if it won’t be you, then it won’t be anyone. For me at least.”

The thumb on your cheek brushed lower to hook just under your jawline and tilt your head up. You looked up at him and were startled by the adoring look on his face. “It’ll always be you for me,” he said and pressed your lips together.

You melted under the loving ministrations of his mouth, your heart racing and racing. Everything always seemed too good to be true with Kento, even the overflowing affection in your chest.

Cradling his cheek in your palm, you pressed closer to him, lips lingering together for a long, wonderfully charged moment.

When he pulled back he was smiling faintly, but his eyes were serious. “Do you understand why it matters to me to know?”

You bit your lips shyly. “Well ... a girl can hope ... that it means you like it?”

He chuckled. “Close. Very close.”

“Okay, then tell me,” you pressed your thumb to his lips and tried to resist your smile as you felt his own grow under your touch.

“It means ...” he began slowly, letting the tension mount. “That I do like it of course ... but that I only like it because I feel the same way Y/N. I’ve been planning to ask you. I won’t now, not like this. But I will, soon. And when I do, I’ll hope your answer is yes... I’ll always hope your answer will be yes to me.”

Blinking away a tear, you buried your face in his throat and let out a shuddering breath. “Yes,” you said unequivocally, and cuddled closer to him.

He pressed his face into your hair and smiled. “Sleep?”

“Yes,” you said again, smiling wobbly.

“Do you love me?” He teased.

“Yes.” You replied fervently. “Yes, yes, yes.”

His palm pressed over the back of your head and held you closer, sighing contentedly. “I love you, too sweetheart. Always.”

#fluff #Romance #Nanami kento #Kento nanami #nanami kento x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #my writings

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myelocin · 4 years ago

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what comes after fate | kuroo tetsurou

synopsis: they say the number three is reserved for what fate has in store, and you just hope that on the third time, kuroo tetsurou would finally choose you.

characters: kuroo tetsurou, you

genre: hurt/comfort, another promotion 4 self love once again

wc: 3200+

a/n: this baby has so much self projection r we even surprised anymore

“I’m always here for you,” is what you used to say instead of “I love you,” because for a while, Tetsurou’s heartfelt “Thank you,” sufficed.

You never bothered to learn her name, but you knew he called her love. And it was fitting, you think. Because the first time around, when you were only nineteen and feeling like all that you’ll ever have in the world will be found in the now—love was what was in front of you.

But in front of him was her.

She with the sweet dimpled smiles, freckled cheeks under the right amount of sunshine, and the waters of the pacific for eyes.

She.

Her.

Love.

So for Kuroo Tetsurou—what he thought was his future was her. His love.

Then for you, what you thought was love was him.

Tetsurou who used to be the boy who snuck into your room from your windows, a bag of donuts in one hand, and his car keys in the other. The love you sought to be part of your future was what was in the moment. Him.

And even if the summer nights you spent with him meant listening to stories of she whose name you still can’t recall—it was fine. Because when you were sixteen, those same nights in bloom where the stars above that twinkled brighter than the city lights looked down on you—you knew there would always be a slice in history when it was just the both of you.

“She’s something else,” you’d listen to him say, and the way Tetsurou’s eyes would squint when he smiled at the sky only had you thinking that it looked like he was looking at the sun instead of the moon.

Love, you come to conclude, wasn’t blind. It was what gave the smallest details the brightest spotlights as it comes into center stage.

For him it was the way love would scrunch her nose at his questions, tuck her hair behind her ear when she was called to answer a question in class, and quite evidently his favorite—the way her voice would hike up half a pitch if she was flustered enough.

And when Tetsurou would turn to face you and ask, “Have you ever been in love?” with his voice as breathless as you always caught yourself to be when he smiles at you, you could only nod your head.

“I guess I have,” would come your reply as you exhale. Your truth being the very thing that has your heart racing one minute before diving recklessly in the next.

“Who?” Tetsurou would ask, his voice always teasing.

He smiles, gold eyes glowing like the bokeh of streetlights faded in the background, and the sight has you holding your breath.

“Just someone,” you’d reply and pray that your message somehow reaches him despite the wordless confession.

“Someone, huh,” he’d repeat your words with an almost dreamlike expression as he turns away and looks up at the stars again. The summer breeze tugs at the sleeve of your blouse and as it leaves you exhale your truth with it.

“What if it’s you?” you say, looking at him, and the wind retreats to the trees as it gives your truth the chance to be known with a stage of silence.

“What do you mean me?” Tetsurou asks quietly.

The wind stays in the trees, the leaves rustling the only thing you can hear with the silence that hangs in the air. You can’t tell if it’s on your side or not, so you turn from the skies and face him instead.

“That’s just my truth,” you tell him, smiling softly.

He smiles at you, eyes patient and the hand that found yours warm.

“Your truth, huh?” he repeats next to you again, and your heart flutters at the silver lining you found in his eyes. And that same silver lining was what ignited the flames of hope in you that lasted far longer than you would have liked.

After you spoke your truth, what you saw in the smile he offered you was the first step, and because you loved him, you took it upon yourself to walk three steps forward instead of only one.

Love really wasn’t blind, you realize again. In your case, it was just blinding.

You were still blinded after that night, and you don’t come to realize it as soon as you would have preferred to.

The first time Tetsurou loves, seven months later he lets go and returns to you with a tremble in his lips and a yearning for the comfort that left his heart.

“You just love too much,” you wanted to say, but before the words could pass your lips, you were rendered speechless as the epiphany strikes you that you weren’t far off from where he was.

Too much, being the fact that you still stayed despite the morning after you laid your truth bare, he came to you with love holding his hand and a newfound radiance laced with his smile. But it worked out, you suppose, because seven months later Tetsurou stands in front of you again with his car keys in one hand and a bag of donuts in the other.

“Sappy nights and star gazing again?” are the words he says coupled with the same pair of golden eyes are what took you to release the tension in your shoulders and slip back in the cycle.

The cycle, being the fact that you’re lying on your backs in the very field you set your truth free, with his eyes and the background bokeh lights making you want to take another dive again. Beside you, Tetsurou is silent, but the look on his face is making you wonder if he’s struggling to explain the infinite all over again.

“I should have just loved you,” is what he says to break the silence, and just like that, your heart’s leaping to dive again.

“You still can, you know,” you answer, because you mean it. The truth of the matter was you always were still there despite his departure. Your heart left at the gate for him to claim when—if—he returned, while your body waited somewhere nearby to watch for his arrival.

“I’ve always been and I always will be here for you, Tetsu,” you finish, smiling with the honesty wrapped with your words.

“Are you really giving your heart that easily?” Tetsurou asks, and his voice you hear more than a sliver of vulnerability, so you take that as a cue to wade in waters even deeper by yourself. The golds of his eyes looked like the embers of a fire, but despite the absence of flame you still could feel the resonance of warmth.

You want to keep the warmth, so you fan the flames.

“That’s just my truth, Tetsu,” you tell him with nothing but raw vulnerability.

The wind ceases to rustle in the trees, because in this night, you feel it dancing on your shoulders: on the strands of your hair that you fastened with a clip behind your hair, and at Tetsurou’s lashes as he stares and blinks at you slowly.

“You said the same thing back then,” he laughs in a whisper, and when he leans in—you stay as still as the wind that you barely even realize has stopped moving.

“Because I meant it,” you try to say, but his lips are already on yours before the thoughts in your brain could even get a chance to try to connect.

Every word of it, you think to yourself as you look at Tetsurou, with his eyes closed and face up, bathing in moonlight.

He doesn’t call you love, like he did with her, but he calls you friend.

“I guess we just got carried away,” he tells you a few weeks later, and for the second time, you can only nod your head, mouth silent, but thoughts raging at his words.

You think about that night, of his sadness, then at how lonely his lips felt pressed against yours. Perhaps “carried away,” really was a good way to explain things, because in the second time you saw the silver lining for reciprocation in his eyes again, instead of taking one step and meeting him in the middle—you took it upon yourself to leap to three and meet him at his doorstep instead.

Only he hadn’t bothered to cross his own threshold as you already made it way past the boundary of yours.

But it should have been fine, because love was patient, right?

So you offer him a smile, knocking your shoulder against his again and exhaling silently as you swirl the melting cubes of ice around your glass again.

The world outside is storming, so the café the two of you found served as a nice refuge to let the storm pass.

The condensation drips on the side, and as you look at the rain still pouring outside, in that moment you feel a little trapped.

“You figured yourself out?” you ask him, nudging at his shoulder and setting your gaze down to look at your drink.

For a few moments, Tetsurou doesn’t answer you, instead opting to just keep his attention focused on the raindrops beating against the window the two of you are sat behind.

“How do we even know if we figured ourselves out?” he eventually chuckles, his shoulders dropping at the change of atmosphere.

You grin, not exactly sure how to formulate the answer to his question with only words, but you let out a sigh and attempt to do so anyway.

“We don’t,” you tell him truthfully. “I guess there are just moments where we feel so sure of something that it feels like we have shit figured out, but that could also change in the next moment. I guess what I’m meaning to ask is if anything has clicked for you at the moment?”

“I guess there has,” he tells you, setting his gaze down for a brief second. That’s when you notice the slight tug at the corner of his lips, so you drop your straw back down the glass and give him a pointed look.

“Care to share?” you say with a laugh.

“I don’t wanna break your heart,” is Tetsurou’s truth, because when he turns to face you for the first time that night—you can see hesitation evident in his eyes.

“Because I love you?” you ask, not really seeking for an answer, but you get one anyway when Tetsurou hangs his head and reshifts his gaze to something in the corner of the table.

“I already told you two truths before, didn’t I?” you question him once more, and beside you, Tetsurou stays silent instead of just nodding his head.

“I guess I owe you another truth then,” you start, pushing your ice filled glass to the side and folding your arms in front of you as you lean forward on the table.

Facing forward, you look at the force of the rain, then listen for the sound of the wind that hides behind no trees this time because tonight it’s in front of you raging as if to say it’s really time for you to spill your truth—in its entire vulnerability.

So take it as a cue, and do just that.

“You’ve already broken my heart twice, Tetsu. I think I still have it in me to take one more,” you declare in a voice that isn’t a whisper, and just how it was in the past, your heart still managed to leap with your words.

“I can take it,” you repeat, locking eyes with him through the reflection of the darkened window in front of you. Because of the distortion, you can’t read the expression in his eyes. Tetsurou was someone who always happened to be just the right kind of transparent for you, because for as long as you’ve known him—his emotions were as easy to read as the intention he expressed them with.

First, he sighs: the kind that’s deep and slowly released like he’s an old man looking over his will. Then, he turns his head again to look at you, and you could already see the apology swimming in the golden eyes you’ve come to adore before he could open his mouth.

“I’m sorry,” it says, and when you focus on the sounds of the rain instead of his voice that comes, the only thing you can read from his lips was because for him love, had always been her.

Tetsurou’s love, whose name you still can’t recall to this day.

Love, with her ocean eyes and poetry for words, and you can’t hate her because you don’t even know her.

“Friends?” he asks you, and you only shoot a smile his way, before looking forward at the windows again.

If something was fate, you recall, it happens on the third time. As you wait for the rain to slow, you allowed yourself to fall in step with the silence so you could gather your thoughts.

A phone rings—Tetsurou’s, you recognize, and when he picks it up, there is sunshine in the tone of his voice.

Love, he greets. So, you think about love.

But the love where fate was involved. Three, you think. It was supposed to be on the third.

The first time you meet Tetsurou through the rose colored lenses you wore yourself, the truth you gave him—which he listened to—counted as the first. You scoff inwardly when you think about the outcome, because despite the silver lining he gave you, for him, love was somebody who wasn’t you.

The second, was in that night he kissed you. A kiss that felt like its beginnings came straight from between the pages of a story book. Where prince charming heard your truth once more and decided that this time, love was you, and that this was right.

You realize that you forgot to count the fact that with a fresh wound also came a different sort of vulnerability. The kind where it sought healing more than reason.

And that night, perhaps because you laid yourself bare too—your healing meant his comfort instead of the salvation he sought after.

So the two times he loves, let goes, and cries all with a love that still isn’t you.

Where he loved her once, let go and realized that he loved her still, and for the third time came back to her but this time stayed. The first, second, and third for you meant a rebounded sort of love and misunderstood connections, while the three for him meant the love fate had long promised.

Because in the third, you realize as you listen to him speak to love over the phone—the third, or fate, is where he stays. He talks about her like you would him, and when the rain drops harder with the howling wind, you awaken to the truth that it hurts.

So what comes after the third? you ask the storm outside. You’re also the third storm of the season, so what now?

The wind doesn’t slow, but it rattles at the glass on the window even harder, so you try to find your answer in that. The wind was always on your side, you like to think.

After the third, you begin to think, comes something else. It isn’t the first where you begin again, or the second where you think about second chances and rewriting failed endings. In contrary, it isn’t the third where things finally click together either—like all the movies suggest.

The answer is simple; because what comes after the third is simply the fourth.

The fourth, being the careful steps taken to walk away. Where the heaviness in your chest means that you’re finally facing the blunt of the storm outside the eye of the hurricane. It’s leaving that false safety net that moreso trapped you for a lot longer that you realized, instead of protect you.

It’s grabbing your bag and thanking your lucky stars for bringing an umbrella with you, because you only tap him on the shoulder once and wave goodbye when you’re already halfway out the door. It’s walking through the puddles in your favorite pair of heels and almost losing your balance, if it wasn’t for the unusual gust of wind that kept you upright at the very last second. It’s looking at him when you finally make it across the street, sheltered under an awning, as he only looks down at his drink and smiles the kind of smile that you used to smile for him. It’s crying in vulnerability and thanking the rain along with the rose colored lenses Tetsurou wore because with that he couldn’t see the fact that your heart still hurts despite you saying that you could “take his truth.”

The fourth is saying “fuck you,” and “I’m done,” for as many times as you wish until your lungs give out and your throat becomes more hoarse than relieved. Because at the end of the day, letting yourself cry is a different sort of relief when you’re finally allowing yourself to realize that despite the steps you’ve taken for healing—shit just fucking sucks.

But what comes after fate, most importantly—is yourself.

It’s shaking off the raindrops, drying your hair, and getting in that taxi, the image of golden eyes against bokeh lights the last thing on your mind. Where you don’t shut off your phone, but mute his contact despite the what ifs calling you back at every stoplight.

You’re only reminded of your position in the present when the lights turn green, and just like that, you just go.

Yourself, being the person you begin to prioritize, because when Tetsurou texts you again, a photo of him with his car keys and a familiar box of donuts in hand, your only reply is a quick “I’m busy tonight,” and nothing more.

What comes after fate is yourself because after facing the reality of the storm that’s been raging, and making peace with the message the wind has been trying to deliver, you finally see the waiting sun peaking behind the exhausted rainclouds.

Vanilla skies, you smile. They’re the first thing that greets you, and your breath is stolen just like that.

Tetsurou’s name flashes on your screen again, but you don’t see it. What comes after fate is standing under the swirls of vanilla in the sky while the stars of your yesterday’s midnight sky calls you for company yet again, and you, not bothering to answer.

You think of golden eyes, the bokeh city lights, and the plethora of stars dancing around the moon. Your heart aches, but it’s the kind where it dulls as quick as it comes, so you breathe in and bask in the smell of morning dewdrops after the heavy rainfall.

A missed call, and a text that reads “I miss you” comes.

You leave it unread.

Because truth be told, you always preferred the vanilla skies over the moonlit nights anyway.

a/n: i h8 men that is all tq

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vivianweasley · 4 years ago

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Pride and Prejudice (Chapter 6)

Summary: Your father is Lucius Malfoy’s cousin, and after the war, it was really difficult for you to find a job because of your last name. So your mother and Mrs. Weasley came up with a crazy idea. A fake marriage between you and Fred Weasley.

Last Chapter! (I combined the last chapter and the epilogue cuz they are not too long.)

Pairing: Fred Weasley X Malfoy!Fem!Reader

Warnings: food mention, mention of divorce, people pretending to choke, proposal.

Word Count: 1.8k

Disclaimer: photos used in the header are from Pinterest. Credit goes to the original owners.

Please do NOT repost or translate my work on any platform! Thank you! Reblogs and comments are always welcome:)

Pride and Prejudice Series Masterlist

Fred walked downstairs, noticing a faint smell of apples in the joke shop. “So are we selling apple juice now, Georgie?” he joked.

But George looked confused, “What apple juice? I could only smell caramel-” And then the answer finally came to George, “Amortentia!”

Fred followed George to the shelf displaying amortentia and immediately realized a firecracker just exploded next to this shelf, causing at least four bottles of amortentia to break and the love potion inside to spill.

George waved his wand and cleaned up the mess, but a satisfied smirk soon appeared on George’s lips, “Strange. Didn’t know you liked apples this much.”

“Shut up and go back to work!” Fred raised his voice, covering for the fact that he’s a complete mess now.

That fainting smell of apple that’s still lingering in the shop also had a dash of the scent of book pages in it. And this combination could only remind Fred of one person.

You.

The person whom he married out of a dare. The person who he fell in love with during the process. The person who just walked out of his life.

George noticed the change in Fred’s expression. How defeat was now written all over his face. “Mate, you need to do something. You can’t just let her walk away like that.”

“What can I do?” Fred sighed, “Maybe she’s been waiting for this all the time.”

George sighed with Fred. This wasn’t like his brother. Soon the lingering smell of amortentia caught his attention, and a brilliant idea popped into George’s mind. “She has feelings for you too, and I can prove it to you!”

You pushed open the door of the joke shop. George just called you claiming that there’s an emergency, so you rushed to the joke shop immediately after work.

George approached you with a small glass vial, “Y/N, this is the new perfume I just made. I need your opinion.”

So this is the emergency??

You looked at George, couldn’t decipher what his smile meant. But you did know one thing. In fact, everyone who went to school with the twins should know the rule: be careful of what they handed to you. So you stepped away from that vial and asked with caution, “When did the joke shop start selling perfume?”

“Oh, we are always trying to expand our business,” George noticed how you became alert, so he added, “I swear to Merlin, this is not a prank!”

Still finding his smile suspicious, but for Merlin’s sake, you still decided to take the vial.

“Does it smell good? What does it smell like?” George asked carefully.

“Hmm...” The perfume did smell very good. You could smell the sweetness of cinnamon, a dash of gunpowder, but it also smelled so familiar. It smelled like...Fred’s cologne? “George, I’m pretty sure someone else has already made a perfume like this.”

“Really? How so?” George felt his heart beating at his throat, so scared that you might say another person’s name.

“Isn’t this just Fred’s cologne?” You were finding this unbelievable. How could George not recognize his own twin’s cologne?

“Oh really!!” Hearing a definitive answer from you has made George so happy that he pulled you into a hug. “Got it! Thank you for your opinion! You’re the best!”

“You’re welcome...?” Watching George being so happy that he could start dancing at any minute, you were beginning to think that the chemicals in the perfume were toxic. How could making a plagiarized perfume make a man so happy?

Two days later, you apparated to the joke shop again. It was raining outside. Maybe the weather was trying to set the tone for what was about to happen next. After taking a deep breath, you knocked on the door of the twins’ apartment, the apartment that you called home for the past year.

Fred opened the door, letting you in without saying a word. You tried not to look at him so you could appear indifferent and won’t be affected by his expressions.

“Here’s the divorce document,” you said as you took out all the paper in your bag. He took the documents and flipped through the papers quickly, still not saying anything at all.

You couldn’t tell if his silence meant he’s also not ready to say goodbye or he just had nothing to say to you. But you tried not to overthink as you continued, “Oh, before you sign it, you still have one wish left. What do you want me to do?”

“What if I said,” he finally looked at you, his eyes capturing yours, “I don’t want you to go?”

His words were like a drum in your ears, rendered you speechless. Before you could fully process what he just said, Fred continued, “It might sound crazy, but for the past few days, I realized I just couldn’t imagine a life without you anymore. I know I’ve lived 20 years without you perfectly fine, but now that I’ve had you in my life, I don’t ever want to live without you again. I know I could be insensitive sometimes, and I probably did something stupid that made you mad in the past year, but I’m willing to change if you tell me to.”

“All I’m trying to say is,” he took a deep breath and continued, “Please allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you. And please don’t divorce me.“

You finally let out a soft laugh. That’s Mr. Darcy’s line in Pride and Prejudice. You remembered reading this part to him during Christmas, and you couldn’t believe that he actually memorized this line.

Fred panicked when you weren’t talking, “But of course, if you really want to, I wouldn’t stop you. I-“

“You know, you don’t have to use your last wish on this,” you stopped him, “I was going to say yes anyway. But If you insist, that won’t be a problem with me.”

Fred’s eyes widened as he processed your words, “Wait, does that mean-“

You answered his question by pulling him down and pressing a kiss on his lips. He was shocked by your sudden action but soon kissed you back with his hands finding your waist and pulling you closer to him.

So this is what it feels like to kiss him, and it’s so much better than how you’ve imagined it would be. It started a soft kiss but soon became more passionate, as if you were making up for all the time you two spent on being oblivious.

“Should’ve done this earlier.” A smirk appeared on Fred’s lips when you finally pulled away.

“Idiot,” you rolled your eyes, but your cheeks were still heated.

He chuckled before giving you another soft peck on the lips. His hands were still resting on your waist.

“And you’re still this idiot’s wife.”

～(warning: people pretending to choke, food mention)~

“Y/N, there’s a Mr. Weasley looking for you,” the receptionist raised her eyebrows and smiled at you.

“Thanks! I’ll be done in a minute!” You quickly finished the last sentence and looked at Luna from across the table with your puppy eyes.

She chuckled, “Alright, you can leave early today.”

“Thanks, Luna, you’re the best!” You flicked your wand to pack up your bag before running to the door.

“Tell Fred I said hi!” you heard Luna’s voice behind you.

“I will!”

A month after your fake marriage ended, you quit your job at Whizz Hard Books. You didn’t want to work in a place that wouldn’t accept who you really are.

Ginny introduced you to Luna Lovegood and The Quibbler. You immediately fell in love with the whimsical ideas and style of The Quibbler, and Luna gave you a new job as you two hit it off very quickly. So this is where you work now. No need to hide your background and use a fake last name. This place accepted you for who you are.

Fred was at the door, opening his arms when he saw you running to him. “Happy one-year anniversary, darling!”

You giggled as you ran into his arms, “and this time, it’s real.”

“Yep,” he pressed a kiss on your forehead, “ready?”

You nodded, and the next second you two apparated to your favorite restaurant.

The dinner was delicious, and for dessert, Fred ordered your favorite cake. But when you were enjoying the cake, you suddenly felt something hard inside. This was extremely dangerous, for you could’ve swallowed it if you weren’t paying attention. You were just about to complain when you finally realized what it was.

It’s a ring!

You were surprised. Was Fred trying to propose? But last time you checked, you two were still legally a married couple.

But this also seemed like what he would do on your one-year anniversary. You were sure he was waiting to see your surprised face, and an idea soon came to you.

You pretended that you were trying to pick up your spoon because your elbow “accidentally” swept it down on the floor a few seconds ago. When you were sure Fred couldn’t see you, you slid the ring on your finger. Then you got up and took another bite of the cake like nothing out of the ordinary happened.

A few seconds later, you started coughing. Your brows were furrowed as your hands reached for your neck like you just choked on something.

Fred was freaking out, knowing that he’s the reason behind all this, “Darling, are you alright?”

The only response you could produce was a few glottal sounds and you looked like you were almost crying.

Fred ran to you as fast as possible. He wanted to help, but he had no idea what to do as his brain was in an absolute mess now. The only thing he could manage to do was apologizing again and again, “I’m sorry. It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have done that. Baby, I’m so sorry…”

The noise you two were making attracted the other customers’ attention, and you saw a waiter approaching you with his wand, trying to help. You knew it’s probably time to stop this prank.

“Are you talking about this?” You finally stopped acting and waved your left hand in front of him.

Fred’s expression froze, still trying to recover from the terror of accidentally hurting you. After a few moments, he finally realized, “Wait, does that mean…”

“YES!” You chuckled.

Fred’s furrowed brows finally unfolded as a bright smile appeared on his lips. He picked you up and spun you around, “She said YES!”

The crowd around you was clapping and cheering while your husband was cheering himself as well.

You giggled, “Freddie, you know we never went through with the divorce, right? So technically, I’m still your wife.”

“I know, darling, but I figured that I owe you a proper proposal,” he said while pressing multiple soft kisses on your face, “Plus, I just want to make this official. I love you, darling.”

“I love you too,” You smiled as your lips found his again, “I love you most ardently.”

A/N: I can’t believe I really finished this series asdfgfgjk Thank you guys so so much for reading, reblogging, commenting, and liking this series. I can’t tell you how much your support means to me❤️

Series Taglist: @ifilosemyselfagain @theweasleytwinsgirl @bookworm06 @unabashedbookscollector @txtdreamss @sagittarius-flowerchild @rsheridan @ovrwd @anywherebuthere @allaroundaddict @jeminila @secretsofageek @magical-spit @freddieweasleyswife @lilypad-55449 @hufflepuffzutara @honey-honey-5644 @kyloren-peterparker @treblebeth @kyloren-peterparker @fred-sux @rodrickmalfoy @liliputbahn @its-yasbxtch @daydreamgirl8 @305weasley @awritingtree @lucymfer @bberree @malfoy-wife15 @weasleyxmalfoyxstyles @justfollowtheroad @nojamsonmytoast @amc723

(If your name is bolded, Tumblr wont let me tag you. And I’m really sorry if I forgot you!)

(General taglist in reblogged post cuz it can’t fit in one post)

#fred weasley #weasley twins #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley series #fred weasley x malfoy!reader #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction

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harrysweasleys · 4 years ago

Text

two can play at this game // g.w

Summary: George is feeling rather cheeky and victorious. Lucky for you, you’re the one he goes to.

Warnings: uhhhh... heavy thirsting. sweaty george is a warning in and of itself.

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: so i wasn’t even gonna write this but thanks to my discord babes and our thirst chat i thought this needed to be written. apologies. but hope you all enjoy! (also don’t mind me watching this gif on repeat like a fool.)

——

George knew exactly what he was doing.

The cheeky git always knew all the right ways to get you agitated and bothered. In the best ways, sure, but it was rather annoying.

Which is exactly what was going on as he rushed over to see you before you went up to your seat in the stands, his Quidditch uniform clinging tightly to his toned body, his robe billowing lightly in the spring breeze. The sun was beaming down onto his skin, his bright hair catching your attention immediately and illuminating his freckled face. The man was a charmer, no one could deny that.

“Ready for the game?” you asked, trying hard not to let your eyes rake his entire body. It was quite a challenge, to be honest. Those Quidditch robes just did something to you.

He ran a hand through his messy hair, “Course. Always am, aren’t I?”

You hummed, nodding your head, “Rather confident, aren’t you?”

He pretended to ponder on the question before he crossed his arms and nodded his head, “Of course.”

Chuckling at his comment, you stood on your tip toes and pressed your lips against his. He uncrossed his arms and placed his hands on either side of your face, deepening the kiss and causing you to feel weak in the knees.

He always had a way of doing exactly that.

His lips were soft as they moved against yours, rendering your mind completely blank and leaving you utterly breathless as he pulled away. You wanted nothing more than to lean in once again and never break away, but you could hear Angelina shouting for him in the background. Way to cut the moment short.

“See you after the game, yeah?” he winked, pressing his lips to yours for another quick kiss before he ran off to the tent. You sighed as you watched his retreating form, longing to be close to him again so you could drag him away somewhere private.

Stupid George Weasley and his stupid good looks.

You made your way up to the stands and found your usual seat, not even focusing on the cheering students around you. The sun was incredibly warm beating down on your skin — perfect Quidditch weather. You were feeling quite warm, but you couldn’t tell if it was from the sun or from watching George make his way onto the field, his sleeves rolled up above his elbows. He knew that got you every time, and you knew he was doing it on purpose.

The game started shortly after, Gryffindor and Slytherin both clearly pouring their heart and souls into the match. You got into the mood of the game, loudly cheering on your house and jumping up whenever one of the Chasers would score a goal. The pride only elevated when the game ended victoriously for Gryffindor. And of course, it was always nice to knock Slytherin down a peg. But most of all, George was always feeling rather cheeky after a win — that was something to look forward to.

You sat in your seat, a large smile on your face as you watched the Gryffindor team gather in the middle of the pitch, their smiles wider than yours and their cheers probably loud enough to be heard all the way back in the castle.

You sat back for a while, letting the hoard of students rush down first. You were in no hurry, really. You could see George making his way up to you and he was the only one you really wanted to see, so you wouldn’t barrel down to the field with a bunch of sweaty students if you could have a little bit of privacy with him up here.

He swiftly approached you with his broom, hopping off of it and stepping over the rows of benches to get to you. Your breath caught in your throat as he got closer.

A line of sweat was formed on his forehead, causing his hair to matte down and stick to his skin like it was clinging on for dear life. His cheeks were tinted with pink due to the heat and the veins on his forearms were visible as he gripped you around your waist, pulling you flush to his body.

He was awfully warm, but so were you, to be completely honest. No one looked quite as good as George after a Quidditch match.

“Something caught your eye, love?” he teased, raising his eyebrows. He was breathing heavily, and you found the same thing beginning to happen to you.

“Congratulations on the win,” you breathed out, tilting your head up so your lips were just inches from his, “You played well.” You could feel his hot breath fanning across your already warm face.

“I better have played well. I played for you.”

His lips curved up into a smirk as he leaned down and pressed them against yours, sending your mind into a daze and your heart into a frenzy. His lips were salty, hot — but not as hot as his kiss.

It was passionate and needy, his grip around your waist tightening as you lifted your hands into his hair. It was soft as it ran through your fingers, so you gave it a light tug to lead him on.

He groaned against your lips, his hands sliding down to your thighs and lifting you off the ground, pulling his lips away from yours.

“Well,” you sighed as you wrapped your legs around him, low on breath due to the fact that he completely knocked every bit of sense out of you, “Guess I gotta go congratulate the rest of the team the same way, yeah?”

Despite the playful smirk on your swollen lips, George shook his head, placing you gently back on the ground.

“Not happening,” he raised his eyebrows, running his hand through his messy hair, “I’m the only one who gets that.”

You wanted to bite back, but you were just so taken by him you couldn’t find the words to do so.

“George! Mate, come down to the pitch!” Fred’s distant voice shouted, causing the moment between the two of you to be cut short. You internally groaned as George walked away from you, knowing damn well he was leaving you wanting more.

Two could play at this game, right?

Right as George hopped up onto his broom, you removed your cardigan and wrapped it around you waist, leaving you in a white tank top that was nearly see-through due to the small drops of sweat that had made their way down your chest during the intense match.

George visibly gulped, sitting still on his broom as his eyes scanned you up and down. His grip on the stick tightened as you placed your hands on your hips, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Fred's waiting for you,” you grinned playfully, trying your best to put on an innocent face.

“Bloody hell, woman,” George shook his head, jaw clenched, “You’re gonna kill me someday, you know that?”

“Me?” you asked, pointing at yourself, “Why, I have no idea what you mean.”

He glared at you, shaking his head and biting his lip before he took off, flying down to the pitch. You tossed your head back with a laugh, making your way to the stairs so you could head down and meet him there.

Teasing George had always been quite the fun game — he teased you without even trying, so it was only fair you got back at him every chance you could.

You arrived down on the pitch, congratulating Harry, Ginny, Ron, and the rest of the team — who were too ecstatic they won the Cup, you weren’t sure they even noticed you were there.

You spotted George not far away talking to Fred, so you decided to be a little cheeky and walk over to him from behind. Luckily for you, right as you approached, Lee came over to talk to Fred, so you seized your chance and stood as tall as you could, pressing a rather light kiss against George’s neck.

He shivered under your touch, turning around with a smirk and wrapping his arms around your waist once more. You could see Fred and Lee rolling their eyes, causing you to let out a small chuckle.

“Sorry, can’t keep my hands off of her,” George said, turning quickly to face his brother and friend before his eyes returned to you, leaning in close to your ear so no one else could hear, “Room of Requirements tonight at eight?”

A rush of heat and excitement spread throughout your body at his words, already anticipating what would happen.

You leaned up and pressed your lips right below his ear, tasting and smelling him as you whispered back, “I’ll even wear that thing you got me for Christmas.”

As you pulled away, the look in his eyes sent a shiver down your spine. His grin was wider than before, the pink tinge on his cheeks slightly darker, and his grip on your waist tightening every so slightly

“Blimey,” his voice was low, “Can we just go now?”

Fred, clearly having enough of this, coughed to gain your attention, “Merlin’s beard, get a room, you two.”

Little did Fred know that was exactly the plan.

——

taglist

@grierpilots

@hxfflxpxffs

@mikumana

@pit-and-the-pen

@diary-of-an-onliner

@theweirdsideofstuff

@thoseofgreatambition

@theweasleysredhair

@haphazardhufflepuff

@almostweepingbanana

@msmimimerton

@ickle-ronniekins

@iprobablyshipit91

@wand3ringr0s3

@susceptible-but-siriusexual

#george weasley #george weasley imagine #george weasley imagines #george weasley fic #george weasley fics #george weasley one shot #george weasley one shots #george weasley x reader #george weasley reader insert

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starkeristheendgame · 5 years ago

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I had this idea and- Tony and Peter in the lab working together when suddenly Peter gets a call and it’s Ned just talking about LEGO stuff so Peter puts him on speaker. Thing is, Ned has no idea he is with Tony because Peter didn’t address it so he suddenly says “So how’s it going with your Iron Daddy crush?” Or something like that and Peter and Tony look at eachother absolutely SHOCKED

I spent a solid ten minutes wholly entertained by this idea and cycling through all the reactions Peter could have. I hope I did you proud on this one, Non! Thank you so much for considering me ❤️

No triggers/warnings. SFW

Working with Tony was fast becoming one of Peter's favourite things to do. It was even better than building LEGO sets or patrolling the streets, and that was saying something. He lived for the long hours spent in the lab, working alongside or merely coexisting with Tony as they worked, playlists cycling through in the background. It was calming, it felt right.

If he were to hazard a guess, he would say Tony enjoyed it too. He obviously didn’t have much evidence to compare to how Tony had been in the lab prior to his arrival, but these days Tony sang along to the music and talked to Peter about their projects and ordered too much takeout even for the two of them and sometimes, even fell asleep against the workbench after too many long hours.

It was one such night when they were working together; each on their individual projects but bouncing information and ideas between them. Peter was working on adding a small-scale explosive to his web mechanism for things like blowing up concrete or doors and Tony was working on what looked like part of the suit, but could frankly be anything at this point. Peter had once asked him how working on the Gauntlet was going only to be informed it was a vase. A mechanical vase, no less.

“Diamond laser, diamond laser…” Tony muttered, petting about the bench. Peter picked up the tool laying on his own bench.

“Here,” he called, tossing it over. Tony caught it, offered him a brief, warm smile, and dove back into his work. Time passed quietly, until he heard a soft mutter of oh, that’s not good and then-

“Duck!”

Wordlessly Peter dropped down, tucking himself under the safety of his bench as there was a hiss, a clang, and a piece of metal flew over where he’d just been standing, ricocheting off the wall before it clattered to the floor. He righted himself, peered at it curiously, then went back to his own work. Mishaps in the lab were far too common to make a fuss of.

It fell back into a lull, working in tandem and comfortable silence until Peter’s phone rang on the table besides him. He paused, nose crinkling. Aunt May wasn’t expecting him to be home tonight, so that left…

“Hey, Ned,” he greeted as he swiped the call, lifting it to his ear. There was a scuffle and a huff on the other end of the line and he waited patiently as Ned got himself set.

“Dude! Have you seen the new LEGO Avengers set? You gotta get one. It’s got everyone! Well, except you, but technically you’re not an official Avenger yet-”

“Gee, thanks for reminding me,” he drawled, rolling his eyes as he fiddled with a coil one-handed. Ned continued to speak, rattling off the pieces, the details and resolutely demanding they went the moment the store opened tomorrow to get the set. Peter hummed along in agreement, interjecting here and there to demand details.

“Oh, I thought about what we could do for our science project, too!” Ned began, and Peter huffed in irritation as he tried and failed to connect a wire with just one hand. Tony more or less comfortably forgotten in the background, he shuffled his phone down onto the desk and tapped the speaker icon, picking up his tools once Ned’s voice filled the room.

“So I was thinking, right? And I was thinking; hey! Peter has access to all this stuff now! And I know we can’t do anything too dramatic because we’re still losers, but what if we use…” Peter listened intently, tongue sticking out as he focused on screwing on the pressure plate. Ned’s idea actually wasn’t all that bad - Taking inspiration from the web shooters to make a spray-able temporary hole/crack fix.

It was nothing Peter hadn’t already made, so it ought to be easy enough. It was easy to listen along and work; both motions equally soothing. Tony said nothing in the background, engrossed in his own tinkering and content to let their conversation be background noise.

"Oh, and hey! How's the whole thing with Mr. Stark going?" Ned asked on the tail-end of a ramble about how Peter could use the web formula to start his own business and make billions. Peter opened his mouth to explain their current projects, temporarily forgetting that he hadn't actually told Ned he was at the Tower right now.

"Or should I say Iron Daddy now? Was that just a one time thing? Its so weird saying that, though. Just get his Iron Rod already so we don't have to keep-"

Peter froze, staring at the phone in movie-comical horror. Across the lab there was a deafening clang and a curse as Tony jerked upright and knocked his head on Butterfinger's mainframe, dropping the diamond laser to the table.

"-Like just go right up to him and say 'I want you to be my Iron Daddy,' like how hard can it be? You could tell him about your old fan account, I bet he'd be flattered. I bet he'd even-"

Peter made a high distressed sound, flailing on the spot. His mind screamed SHUT UP NED SHUTUP HE'SHERERIGHTHERE SHUT UP but his throat wouldn't work to get the words out. On the other bench Tony looked vaguely like the arc reactor had glitched, eyes more white than iris as he gripped at the edge of the table.

Panic rose like a tidal wave and Peter gave a strangled sound, operating on pure fear and horror as he raised his palm and pressed the trigger on the web shooters. The StarkPhone went up in a spectacular display of sparks and flying metal, Ned's voice cutting off abruptly.

Dully, Peter thought huh, it works. As the last pathetic sparks fizzled to the ground Peter turned his head, staring meekly somewhere near Tony's shoulder.

"Sorry. That was... Your phone," he excused lamely, belatedly noting he no longer had his chappy old IPhone but Stark Industries' latest, sleekest model courtesy of Tony.

“Technically it was yours,” Tony replied back rather dazedly, leaning heavily against the bench. An awkward silence fell over them for several seconds, before Tony’s expression twisted.

“Iron Daddy?”

Peter made a sound between a groan and a whine and collapsed against his own bench next to the smoking remains of his phone. “Oh my god. I was a meme. I sent him a meme one time.”

“And my Iron Rod is…?”

“Mr. Stark, I am begging you to stop talking.”

There was a terse pause where Peter awaited morosely to be told to leave; to be dropped outside his apartment again with a bye, c’ya, don’t call. And then -

“Do you?” Tony’s voice sounded... Small. Peter looked up quizzically, brows furrowing as he watched Tony rub at his arm. It was a tic - an emotional tell. “Want me to be your Iron Daddy?”

Peter almost groaned. Might’ve, if the meaning behind the words hadn’t rendered him incapable of anything other than surprise.

“I’d... Always thought it would be more a boyfriend thing,” he admitted. His crush had never been a secret but had always been swept under the rug as idolism and hero worship, never taken seriously. It had only been in his dreams and fantasies that Tony had ever reciprocated the feelings or taken his compliments to heart.

“Hm.” It was a flat response, thoughtful and veiling any true emotion as Tony moved to rub at his jaw, then turned away. “I’ll get you a new phone. FRI has all your data on back-up, so you won’t have lost anything.”

Peter’s heart sank a little and he took the unspoken rejection graciously, lowered his head with a short nod. He willed himself to be mature about it, sweeping away the remains of his old phone into the waste disposal and thanking the older man in a small, fragile voice when he was handed a sleek new device.

Tony had turned it on whilst he brought it over and it cycled through an installation before vibrating in his hand.

[Iron Daddy] I can do boyfriends. [19:21]

#fanfic #starker #starker fanfiction #starker fanfic #starker fic #starker fluff #getting together #confessions #ironspider #ironspider fanfiction #ironspider fanfic #ironspider fic #ironspider fluff #sfw #sfw starker #starker prompt fill #tony stark/peter parker #peter parker/tony stark #sie fics

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nnightskiess · 4 years ago

Text

r e q u e s t : Hi ! How are you ? I’m so sad as to what happened with Naya she was a huge inspiration in my life and It hit me really bad But I want to ask for an imagine where you are Santana’s little sister and you come in to join the glee club and you’re better then Rachel and she starts saying stuff but you pop off on her and Santana backs you up?? If you can, sorry if it doesn’t make sense

✫彡

Y/N sat cross-legged on a chair in the back row, texting one of her friends to try and pass the time. Mr. Schuester was late, as always. Her older sister, Santana, walked in with Brittany close behind her. They sat down in the chairs in front of Y/N and turned around to the younger Lopez to engage her in their conversation.

Their conversation was cut short when a loud clap of hands and an exciting yelp, coming from no other than Rachel Berry, interrupted them. Santana immediately rolled her eyes, knowing she was about to say something stupid again.

“You guys, I have amazing news!”

Y/N groaned loudly, knowing whatever Rachel had to say would probably only have interest to Rachel herself.

“I just made up my mind on what song I’ll be singing for regionals.” She went to stand in front of the group. If she had paid close attention, she’d seen that not all of them were pleased with her statement.

“What you’ll be singing?” Y/N cocked an eyebrow when Rachel stared at her for a few seconds. “We can all sing, we’re not your ensamble.”

“Didn’t you see how much everyone loved my solo at sectionals?! I want... I mean, we want that same standing ovation for regionals!”

“Oh, hell no.”

Puck cleared his throat, looking between Y/N and Rachel. “I kind of think Little-Lopez has a point.”

“Yeah, why can’t someone else get a solo this time? Sure, you’re an amazing singer but maybe you should give someone else a... chance... for once?” Artie tried to reason with her but his voice slowly died down after seeing Rachel’s disappointed expression.

The girl looked at Y/N for a split second only to see her with her arms crossed and a sneer on her face.

“So I’m taking you guys don’t want to win regionals then? Because we won’t if we’re changing our obviously, well-oiled, brilliant plan.” She took a deep breath and scribbled the name of the song down on the whiteboard- Always Starting Over from the musical If/Then.

“Listen here, Berry.” Y/N cocked her head to one side, “That obviously, well-oiled, brilliant plan of yours makes us look like your jazz hands, dancing oompa loompa’s who are just there to try and make you look better. Well, Willy Wonka, get this- I’m done being your background furniture that you picked up along the road just because we were free to take and have piss stains all over us.”

Santana whistled proudly at the insult her younger sister had just thrown at Rachel and it earned a few hums of approval from some of the other Glee club members.

Rachel was taken back for a few seconds but regained herself and cleared her throat, “Did you forget the cheering I got after my part? Why can’t you see that that’s exactly what we need to win regionals as well?”

“Ptchh, you should get your facts checked because they weren’t cheering for you. We all know I’m the better singer out of the two of us.”

Santana crossed her arms and gave Rachel a smirk, knowing who had won this argument. Everyone knew that the sassiness that ran in the Lopez family wasn’t only given to Santana. When it came to that, the two sisters were basically carbon copies of each other.

“That is so out of line! You talk the talk but when it comes to the performance you don’t walk the walk.” Rachel pointed a finger at the younger Lopez sibling and Y/N shot up, her fists balled up in rage. She was about to lounge at Rachel until Mr. Schue walked in.

“What is happening, guys?”

“Y/N is throwing a spanner in the works of our way to end up on top at regionals.”

Mr. Schue put his bag down onto the piano and eyed the younger girl for a few seconds, silently asking her for an explanation.

Santana rolled her eyes, “Hardiharhar, don’t be so dramatic. Y/N just expressed her displeasure and put her in her place- the lowest of the low in the hierarchy, where she belongs.” She shrugged.

“Santana.” Was all that Mr. Schuester said before turning to Rachel, who pointed to the song written down on the whiteboard.

“I’ve practiced this song for months and I think regionals is the right moment to finally sing it and show them what I got.”

He nodded, “Wow, If/Then is a great musical. Are you sure you can handle this song?”

Rachel nodded enthusiastically.

“Very well then!” He turned to the group, “I think we just found our first song for regionals.” He smiled his goofy smile. Mercedes and Kurt looked at each other before rolling their eyes while Quinn sighed and sank into her chair.

Santana furrowed her eyebrows again and shook her head in disbelief, hoping she didn’t just hear him say that.

“Um...hello?” She waved her arms around until Mr. Schue looked at her. “Okay, good! You do see us! For a second I thought you completely forgot about the rest of us existing.”

Mr. Schue sighed and looked down before eyeing his students, “Listen, I know everyone here works very hard, and each of you has an amazing and unique voice, but for now I think that we should just let Rachel sing the solo at regionals. However, that doesn’t mean that I render any of you unworthy of taking the lead another time. You will all get to sing a part in the second song, I promise.”

“How’s that fair? We didn’t even get a chance to tell you what we would like to sing or show you what we got.” Mercedes spoke up.

“Rachel practices every day. She deserves to sing.” Finn shrugged.

“No one asked you, Finn.” Y/N shot at the boy, who widened his eyes in response. “You don’t have a leg to stand on in this discussion, we all know you will probably get the male lead.”

Y/N then turned back to Mr. Schue. “Everyone knows Rachel is your favourite and I’m sick of it. You treat her like she’s the best thing since sliced bread.”

“That’s not true. I don’t do favourites.”

“Yes, you do. You clearly favourite that vest because it’s all you’ve been wearing for the past two weeks.” Santana shrugged.

Mr. Schuester rubbed his temple. Having to deal with not only one, but two Lopez girls was making him age faster. Especially at times when they let their minds run rampant.

Y/N crossed her arms. “I signed up for Glee club, not for ‘Sing-And-Smile-In-The-Background-Of-The-Rachel-Berry-Show’ club. Half the time, we’re not even on stage during her songs.”

“Wait, does that club exist?” Brittany mumbled under her breath.

“Guys, when have I ever steered you wrong? Please, trust me on this.” Mr. Schuester placed his hand on his heart.

“I think you’re just jealous.” Rachel’s tone was challenging as she sat down next to Finn.

Y/N shot up again.

“Yes, you might know how to sing, but you’ll never be able to leave the audience as impressed as I ever will.”

Santana now shot up as well.

“Qué acabas de decirme?” (What did you just say to me?)

Both girls made a move to lounge at Rachel but Quinn, Mike and Sam held them back. They struggled to do so while Y/N threw all the Spanish insults she knew at the girl in front of her.

“Enough!” Mr. Schuester tried but his voice didn’t stand out in the chaotic yelling. He sighed before clearing his throat.

“I want you both out.” He directed to the two sisters.

“Now!”

Everyone fell silent and it seemed to do the trick. Y/N slowly turned to him. Mr. Schue had a stern look on his face while he glared at the siblings. He kept pointing at the door.

“Fine.” Y/N grabbed her backpack, waited for Santana to dust herself off and grab her belongings too.

“You know what? I could use a break.” Santana huffed as both of them walked out of the room. Their heads held high, no dignity lost over what just happened.

They walked to the football bleachers where Santana immediately lit up a sigaret.

“Do you think he kicked us out... permanently?”

It was times like these, when it was only the two of them, where Y/N still depended on her older sister.

“Maybe.” Santana shrugged her shoulders, “If he can’t appreciate having you in the club then that’s his loss.”

Santana gave Y/N a playful nudge with her shoulder when the younger Lopez still seemed deep in thought. Y/N looked up to see Santana’s soft smile and she immediately sent her a goofy smile back.

“They can’t go to regionals without us. And if they do find a way, we’ll just have to start our own Glee club, huh?” She smirked. “I’m sure it won’t take long before Mercedes is sick of it as well.” She comforted her little sister.

“Yeah, but what will we do in the meantime?”

Santana furrowed her eyebrows, wanting Y/N to elaborate.

“I can’t believe I’m about to say this- but I actually really like Glee club and I was pretty excited for regionals.”

Santana nodded, “I know you do. I can see it in your eyes when you sing.” She took another drag of her sigaret. “Between you and me, I enjoy singing in Glee club as well.”

Y/N nodded softly and brought her legs close to her body so she could let her chin rest on her knees.

“San?”

Her sister hummed in return.

“Was Rachel right?” She looked up at Santana, “Am I really not giving that good of a performance?”

“Baby, no.” Santana gave her a stern look, telling her not to go there. “You might’ve only done one couplet by yourself so far... but even in the songs where you sing background vocals, you manage to outshine the rest.”

“But there must be a reason why I haven’t got the chance to lead a song yet.”

“Yup. And that reason is Rachel, dwarf, Berry.” Santana shrugged. “You know I’d tell you if you sucked.”

Y/N laughed at that, Santana so would.

“If Mr. Schue isn’t letting us show him what we got, then we have to come up with another way to get through that head of his how capable you are of leading a song.”

Santana suddenly stood up, put out her sigaret with her shoe and motioned for Y/N to take her hand.

It was a few days later and neither Santana or Y/N had attended Glee club after what happened on Monday. Rachel had made herself very clear to Y/N that she was very disappointed in her since Y/N’s jealousy caused the club to not be able to partake in regionals. Brittany had tried convince the two girls to join Glee club again with a clumsily, selfmade powerpoint and even Finn had kindly asked them to reconsider going back. But they simply couldn’t, at least not just yet.

But now that it was Friday, everything was ready to go.

The two Lopez girls decided to wait a few minutes until everyone was present before they walked into the room. Mr. Schue stopped talking and turned around, a disappointed look on his face.

“We’re not here for a pity-party and we’re definitely not walking in with our tails tucked between our legs,” Santana started as a few band members shyly shuffled their way into the room, instruments in hand.

“We just want to show you that we are fully capable of leading a song.” Y/N spoke as she shoo’d everyone to the side.

“Hit it.”

[glee performance of tina turner’s ‘river deep, mountain high’, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=82lYMlXB-fI ]

Rachel seemed unsettled during the performance, clearly noticing how everyone else was enjoying the two sisters sing. Mr. Schue, who had seem hesitant at first, was now visibly entertained and impressed and had already long forgotten what happened a few days earlier. Rachel sunk further into her seat when she noticed that.

Everyone knew the Lopez girls both had beautiful voices, but that they would sound so well together was news to them all. Mr. Schue now realised what a shame it was that he had never explored letting different kids sing together, and that all his attention had always been on the same people.

What topped the performance off, was the excitement in the sisters’ eyes. They were clearly having fun with the song and their minds seemed to have no memory of why they originally decided to perform. It was just them and the music they danced and sang along to.

But when the band played the last melodies, they suddenly seemed to remember and turned back around to the group with proud smirks on their faces.

On the last note, Santana held her hand up for her sister to high five.

Everyone started clapping and Mr. Schuester stood up, walking up to them.

“Ladies! That was fantastic!” He gave Y/N a pat on her shoulder. “Now that is how you sing a song! Well done!”

Rachel silently clapped along. She would never say out loud how much she had enjoyed their performance.

“I’m sorry, Rachel, but now that I’ve seen this-” Mr. Schue rubbed his chin, “I want to try a different approach at regionals. This is what will get the crowd’s attention!”

He turned to Rachel, an apologetic look on his face, “Do you mind giving your solo to Santana and Y/N?”

Rachel shrugged absentmindedly, trying to make it seem like she didn’t care, “It’s healthy to have some competition. It will push me to become a better performer.”

Mr. Schue nodded and turned back to the Lopez girls.

“Congratulations, you two. It’s yours!”

Everyone clapped again until Santana spoke up.

“No, no, no. I’m backing out.”

“W-why?” Confusion was written all over Mr. Schue’s face. “I thought it’s what you two wanted?"

“What I wanted was for you to realise that there are other people capable of leading a performance.” She turned to her sister, who had been confused at Santana’s decision up until now. “People like Y/N, for example. You take it. I know you can do it without me.”

Y/N tried to convince her otherwise, “But you’ve never had a solo either! We should-”

“Uh, uh.” Santana waved her finger, “I want you to take it.”

The two had a little face off for a few seconds, it was their way of talking to each other without words. Santana cocked her head to the side, knowing Y/N was about to give in.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Fine.”

Santana smiled widely, grabbed her sister and planted a kiss on her head.

“I’ll always back you up.”

She winked at Y/N before the two of them went to sit down, ready for today’s Glee club.

#santana lopez imagine #santana lopez x reader #santana lopez / you #santana lopez one shot #santana lopez #naya rivera imagine #naya rivera imagines #santana lopez imagines #naya rivera x reader #glee imagine #glee imagines #glee x reader #glee preferences #glee one shot

445 notes · View notes

berryjam17 · 4 years ago

Text

Remedy

Jin x f. reader [in smut scene. relatively g/n for the rest ( 'butterfly' could be considered a more feminine nickname)]

Synopsis: Life has left you scarred and unwilling to get too involved with anyone else.

Kim Seokjin is stubborn. Kind. Capable of soothing your wounded spirit.

Warnings: chronic illness, hints of IBD throughout for Y/N and Jungkook, one very in-your-face implication that Y/N has IBD in the beginning, internalized ableism, swearing, unprotected sex, little bit of dom!Jin / sub!Y/N, oral (F receiving), fingering (F receiving)

Word Count: 6k

repost, I had to fix some issues.

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

The waiting room was hushed, with the tapping of keys from the receptionist’s desk as background noise. You glanced expectantly at the clock, disappointed when only two minutes had passed. It was 6:17 PM, and you doubted your roommate would arrive before 6:40. Lisa was a graduate teaching assistant at the local college. She’d left a message explaining that she had to print off a paper before she could drive your car back.

This late in the day, there was one other person waiting. You studied him, more out of boredom than anything else.

Black hair fell in waves to frame his forehead and eyes. He was dressed casually in a soft pink hoodie and jeans, his rings reflecting the overhead light as he skimmed through a magazine.

He abandoned it briefly, lifting his head to lock eyes with you. His lips twitched. A frown? A smile? You couldn’t tell.

He flipped the magazine around and held it up, so that you could see the pages he’d been on. It was a painting of a cherry tree in full bloom, with hints of a cerulean sky between the branches.

Beautiful.

The next spread was for Crohn’s and Colitis Awareness Month. His brow furrowed as he witnessed you retreat into your shell, looking anywhere but at him.

Realization dawned when he saw the contents. “I’m sorry. I didn’t-”

The door to the E.R. clicked open, interrupting him, and a younger man crossed the threshold. Magazine Man shot to his feet and hurried over to him. “How are you feeling, Kook?”

“Tired.” ‘Kook’ shrugged into the coat he was handed, almost trodding on the other man’s heels as they exited the waiting room.

Stupid. You slumped forward, squeezing your eyes shut and rubbing your forehead. Get a grip.

He sat a few seats away. You kept your head down, not eager to embarrass yourself further.

You’d heard his voice before, but for the first time, you realized how melodious it was. “I didn’t look before I turned the page that day. I’m sorry.”

You looked up. “I know. I’m sorry too, for how I acted.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He relaxed into the seat. “I’m Seokjin, by the way.”

“I was calling you Magazine Man in my head. Just so you know.”

He had a nice laugh. “There are worse names, I suppose. What’s yours?”

“Exhausted panda.”

“Panda? Is that your favorite animal?”

You blinked, taken aback at his interest. “Uh, no. That's not why. It’s for the dark circles under my eyes...it’s hard for me to get enough sleep.”

“...I see wings.” His voice was hesitant. Gentle.

You couldn’t understand why he’d been trying to boost your morale. “Oh...well. My actual name is Y/N.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N.”

The next time you saw Seokjin, he was worried when he learned you didn’t have an immediate ride home. Lisa had left on an urgent errand for her mother, and you hadn’t driven in the first place. It was kind of impossible to do that when you were incapacitated by pain and nausea.

He offered to drop you off after he took his brother home.

You couldn’t reply right away. You had some idea of who he was. You knew his name, and that he loved his brother dearly. But you didn’t know him well enough to feel completely comfortable.

But pain had always been your strongest motivator. The easiest fix for the agony snaking along your guts was a heating pad at home.

And here Seokjin was, with the tempting words that made you imagine how sweet the relief would be.

You said yes.

Seokjin stopped next to you while you were browsing through the earrings at the local Walmart, almost giving you a heart attack before you recognized him.

He was with his brothers. You hadn’t known that there were others, besides Jungkook. But then again, you had only met in the hospital.

Thankfully, Jungkook appeared to be fine. But you knew all too well that didn't necessarily mean he felt that way. Still, his smile almost rivaled Seokjin’s.

Seokjin gave the jewelry a cursory scan before he snatched a pair left over from Christmas, stamped with Santa Claus’ image. “These would be perfect for you.”

You rolled your eyes, swatting his hand away. “More like for you.”

He didn't laugh. You were surprised to see him scrutinizing your features. “You’re feeling better.”

“Yeah.” You swallowed. He didn’t intend to, but his words reminded you of the fact that every meeting up to that point had happened with you rendered helpless in one way or another. You despised the idea that people thought of you as frail, vulnerable...weak.

Especially Seokjin.

But it was undeniable. You were weaker than the average person. Good days where you could cope had been reduced, and there weren't many days at all that you didn’t feel some symptom.

Seokjin had a window to Jungkook’s experiences. But even then, there was a disconnect between them. What then, did you hope that he could do for you, that you couldn’t do for yourself?

“I found something for you.” He took your hand in his. Cool metal pressed into your skin.

You uncurled your fingers to see midnight blue stones glinting up at you, set as the leaves of an earring climber. “It’s beautiful.”

He sent you a wink. “Of course it is. What would you choose for me, Y/N?”

They stood out almost immediately. You retrieved the pair of silver chain drop earrings and deposited it in his hand. They were rather plain, save for the metal stars at the ends of both.

He rolled the fine metal links across his thumb.

You hadn’t spoken, but his head lifted. He refused to look away from your eyes. His own had softened, resulting in the tension rippling across your shoulders. You didn't like it when people looked at you like that.

Seokjin had never seen one of your days, only glimpses. He had no idea of what you endured.

He had no right to meet your gaze with that familiarity.

“Butterfly.” His voice was hushed, stopping you in your tracks.

“‘Butterfly’...?”

“Can I call you that?”

“I didn’t think we were on a nickname basis. If we were friends, I’d allow it.”

“Friends…” he mused. “That’s fair.”

The image of rain, threatening to break through a wall of clouds, rolled across your mind.

He didn’t relent, daring to reach out. He folded your fingers around the piece of paper. “If you need a ride. Or if you want to talk.”

“Do you just carry your number around?”

He glanced downwards. “I wrote it after I saw you here.”

You nodded stiffly. You couldn’t see yourself turning to him for further help, but you weren’t about to tell him that. Besides, there was no harm in keeping the paper, just for a while.

-----

He had lovely handwriting. You left his note on your desk after entering his contact, though you debated for several weeks on what to text.

If you decided to text at all.

Red lights cutting through the midnight darkness and echoes of his voice in the enclosed space lingered. The memory of his presence paired with the absence of pain.

You were unable to forget that you owed him, and you wouldn’t be able to let the memory fade until you’d done something in return.

He replied with an invitation to a homemade dinner. It didn’t make sense. Honestly, it was frustrating. You just wanted to pay him back and be done with it.

But again, he insisted. The little voice in your head whispered that it’d be easier to explain yourself in person, rather than over text.

While Seokjin had dug in right away, you set your fork down. “I have to be clear about this. I said yes because I owe you for the ride home before. There’s no other reason.”

He gazed at you from across the table. “I did that because I wanted to. You don’t owe me anything.”

“Seokjin, please.”

He sighed. “That’s what friends do. Can we be friends, Y/N? Not...whatever this is?”

You traced the rim of your glass, collecting condensation on your fingertip. “...I guess we can try.”

“Thank you.”

You glanced at him. His gentle smile and warm brown eyes caused an ache to bloom in your chest. Feeling your body temperature spike, you broke eye contact with him.

The clock on the wall read 6:32. The muted ticking of its hands and the clinking of silverware were the only noises in the room.

For a house with six other occupants, especially in the evening, you would’ve expected to overhear conversations and movement. “Where are your brothers?”

“Jungkook went to watch a movie with Jimin and Tae. Yoongi’s at his studio. Namjoon and Hoseok went back to campus to study.”

“Does that happen often? You getting the house to yourself?”

He smiled. “I may have...provided incentive to the youngest ones.”

You stumbled upon a new author and earned a couple more pieces of literature to proofread. Since you hadn’t gone to college, you were grateful each time you found a new client.

When Seokjin refused monetary payment, you came up with a plan B.

While you couldn't be exactly sure of what Jungkook’s trigger foods were, you were reasonably sure that they included the worst ones for you. Red sauce (and everything that entailed) was pure evil on the most basic list of what foods to avoid. You had no clue what his other brothers liked, so you packed a variety of food.

He answered on the second ring. “Y/N?”

“Hey, you’re at home, right? Is everyone else there too?”

“Just a sec. ...Yoongi’s on the way. Everyone’s here beside him. Why?”

“I bought food, so we can all have dinner together.”

“Alright. You’re at home?”

“Yeah.”

“Wait there. I’ll come get you.”

“I can drive, Seokjin. But thank you.”

“See you soon, butterfly. Drive safely.”

Seokjin swung the door open. Surprise flickered across his expression. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you.” You lifted the basket, as if he hadn’t already seen it. “I brought food.” As if you hadn’t told him that earlier. You cringed, wondering why his compliment had thrown you off so badly.

If you were trying to distract him, it hadn’t worked. His thumb grazed your earlobe and the jewelry adorning it. “It matches you.”

Seokjin’s presence in your life was like the moon. You’d walked for so long through the night that at first, even his light had been blinding. But it hadn’t taken too long to become accustomed to his honest, kind nature.

A few months went by. Though Seokjin hadn’t exactly hesitated to talk to you before, sending you cute animal pictures or memes, he became thoughtful when you saw him in person.

“I feel like you’re hiding something from me.” You sat across the table from him. His brothers had already finished eating and scattered throughout the house and yard. You’d declined his invitation for food, but accepted for the company.

He finished chewing, his hand over his mouth. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh yeah?” You looked - very deliberately - at his ears.

He bolted out of his seat. “Hey!”

You waited a long moment before rising. His hands pressed into your shoulders, holding you firmly in place. “Y/N, don’t turn around and I’ll talk.”

“Okay.”

“You’re special to me.”

“Special...in what way?”

“As my friend. As someone I like.” He claimed the chair next to you.

“Oh..”

“Can we give it a try? It doesn’t need to be official. I just want to know you better.”

“Seokjin, I haven’t been in a relationship for a long time. I’m not...suited for one.”

“If you don’t want to, that’s fine. But why do you think you’re not suitable?”

You drew patterns on the table. “Um, I’ve just never wanted another person there…”

His hand settled over yours. He squeezed your fingers. “Sure. But why, Y/N?”

Your throat grew tight. You choked out, “I didn’t want to be a burden.”

He drew you to him, tucking your head against his shoulder. You blinked tears away.

“You’ve had to be strong for so long.” He murmured, melancholy infusing his tone. “You’re not alone anymore, butterfly.”

------

It took a few hours to surface from the dark ocean.

You were in Seokjin’s room, watching him explore Hyrule. He had a Nintendo Switch hooked up to his TV, with a Breath of the Wild cartridge inserted. “Seokjin?”

“Hmm?” He frowned as he furiously mashed buttons. “Just a minute.” On the screen, Link was fighting a masked man in red. The enemy teleported around the battlefield, annoying Seokjin. “Stand still and let me kill you!”

He breathed a sigh of relief when his attacks connected. You kept an eye on the enemy’s HP bar, cheering inwardly each time it went down. After vanquishing the masked enemy, he set the Switch on his bedside table and turned his attention to you. “What is it, Y/N?”

“I’m ready to talk about why I’ve been afraid of relationships.”

He inclined his head, a silent ‘continue.’

“The fear of being a burden is constantly in the back of my mind, because of my health. I always thought...why would someone choose that? Why choose me, when so much of my life is this disease?”

“Because you’re a lovely person.”

“There are so many lovely people out there who are actually healthy.”

“But they’re not you.”

“I’m not any other person either, does that make them any less valuable?”

“No, of course not. That’s not-” He groaned. “Y/N, you’re making this impossible. Everyone is special. But you are in my life, and you’re important to me. I don’t give a damn about your health.”

You wanted to believe it.

If it had been anyone else, you wouldn’t have. Even so, doubts haunted you.

Seokjin was a good person to the core. You’d seen that when he took care of Jungkook, in his cooking for his brothers, and how he’d bolstered your spirits when it was all too much.

You could trust him.

But you didn’t want to drag him down. He deserved better.

He took your hand, thawing the ice in your bloodstream. “Look at me.”

You did. He intertwined his fingers with yours, his rings warm against your skin. “I know my own mind. And I like you. Your health doesn’t scare me.”

“It’s easy to say that.”

“If we were in a relationship, I could prove it. Remember Jungkook, too. I’ve seen his side of it.”

“..Okay. I’ll do my best.”

He chuckled softly. “You don’t need to do that. Butterfly, just be yourself.”

-----

Euphoria was unfamiliar. You poked at the dreamlike haze, searching for shadows. You relaxed when the sunlight faded. A full day had passed, and it hadn’t been a fantasy.

Grains of sand shifted under your shoes. Waves rolled against the shore, and he was at your side. “Jin, why did you start talking to me? In the hospital, I mean.”

“You looked sad. And I thought...maybe you could help Jungkook. He struggles with it a lot. If anyone can help, it’d be you, right?”

Moonlight spilled a silver path across the water. “I don’t know that I’d be able to help another person when I’m not in the best mindset. He should talk to a professional, I think.”

Jin parked next to the curb. You unbuckled the seat belt when he spoke, rushing through his words. “Y/N, there's something...I have to be honest. I didn’t ask you out purely for my sake. The next relationship I had, I wanted to meet someone similar to Jungkook.”

The euphoric bubble disintegrated. “What?”

“I’m sorry. But please believe me, I care about you.”

“Me or my disease?”

His face was veiled in shadow. “Y/N, it’s you.”

“I need time to think, Jin. You were using that part of me...and I just..”

---

His confession was a new experience. You’d struggled with self-esteem for years, only exacerbated by the crushing diagnosis. To fight with a resistant body and know that you would never, ever be freed from that for as long as you lived...it was hard.

There was always the hope of remission. But the risk of a flare-up was there too, in every period of peace.

Seokjin had deliberately sought you out because of your burden.

You knew that his intention was admirable and came from love for his brother. But the thought that not all of your interactions had been for the sake of, well, interacting...hurt.

A lot.

Were you not enough?

-------

Jungkook called after a few days, asking to talk in person. You agreed after he promised everyone else would be out of the house.

“How are you feeling?” You asked, looking him over. He didn’t appear pale, tired, or otherwise sick. What you were really concerned about were the possible symptoms you couldn't see.

“I’m okay. I managed to finish a painting.” His lopsided smile vanished. “I heard what happened.”

“Yeah...I assume you’re going to explain.”

“I’d like to. But I won’t if you don’t want to hear it.”

You couldn’t say no to his earnest request. “I’m listening.”

“He didn’t mean it like that. His exes were nice enough people, but they couldn’t understand how protective Jin-hyung and everyone else was of me. They wanted more from him than he was willing to give. He was just hoping that someone like me would be more sympathetic.”

You nodded slowly. “I can see that.”

Light glimmered in his eyes. “Can I pass on a message?”

“It’s alright, I’ll call him later. Jungkook, your brother said he was worried about you. Can I help you at all?”

He blinked at you, confusion clouding his face. “Help me..? On what?”

“Your health. If I can help, I mean. I only have my life to go off of, but I’ve been talking through it with a therapist.”

“Oh. Um...I want to ask you some questions.”

----

You dialed his number with shaking fingers.

“Y/N?” The concern in his voice made tears spring to your eyes.

“..yeah. It’s me. Um, listen, Jin. I talked to Jungkook earlier...and I thought a lot.” You opened the door, stepping onto the deck. When you tilted your head back, you could see the stars.

“Are you okay?”

“I will be. I just..needed to ask you something. It was real, right?”

“Yes, butterfly. I wouldn’t have gone this far if I didn’t care about you.”

“Okay.” You wiped at your eyes. “I still love you, Jin. Can we start over?”

“I’d like that.”

Your heart warmed when he blew you a kiss over the phone.

“Get some sleep, Y/N. I’ll text you tomorrow.”

“Yeah. Good night, Jin.”

“What do you want to do in the future, Jin?”

“I’m supposed to take over the family business. After all, I got a degree for it.”

“Do you want that?” You asked, hearing wistfulness and regret entwined in his voice.

“I...no, not exactly. But I’m the eldest.” He nudged his plate of fried chicken.

“That doesn’t matter. What do you want to do, Jin?”

He dragged his plate closer to him, avoiding eye contact.

“You’re so good to everyone. What about yourself?”

“I’d like to work in a hospital...not a doctor, but maybe a nurse? I want to help people.”

“You can do that and still be there for your family.”

Although he didn’t look completely convinced, he resumed eating. You were glad for that, at least.

Lisa wasn’t home when Jin pulled in, so he parked behind your car. He caught a glimpse of a bike, sheltered safely under the deck. “Is that yours?”

You followed his finger. “Yeah. It’s been a while, though.”

“Why? The weather's nice.”

Resignation dyed your tone a muted gray. “I can’t walk up a flight of stairs without getting tired most of the time. I don’t have the stamina for biking.”

He was holding an extra helmet and standing next to a light blue bike. Your heart leaped when you noticed it was a two-seater bicycle.

Jin clasped the strap under your chin. He sat in front and kicked off.

You didn’t look at the scenery very much.

Jin was still seated when you clambered off his bike and removed your helmet. You attempted to do the same to his, but nervousness hampered your movements. He reached up and unclasped the strap. Carefully lifting his helmet, you set it on the ground.

You could swear he had a halo. He was cast in an azure glow.

Of course, you knew it was all in your mind. He couldn’t claim to be of angelic status any more than he could emit light. Physically, anyway.

You cradled his face in your hands and kissed him. “I want to spend more time with you today, doing something you like.”

His eyes lit up. He wheeled the bike back to his car. “How about playing some games?”

You laughed. “You bet.”

Jin was a master at Mario Kart. You tried to keep up with him (and Jungkook, who’d entered the living room before Jin started the game.)

But it was over for you when you looked over at Jin. It was too easy to get lost in his shining eyes and victorious laughter when he edged ahead in the race.

At the end of the round, you leaned against his shoulder. “‘M tired.”

He paused the game and plucked a pillow from the couch. “Lay down. I like to think I'm more comfy than the floor.”

You hugged the pillow to your chest, laying your head on his lap. You craned your neck to look up at him, smirking at the adorable tinge of red on his face and ears. The satisfaction transformed into a softer, rosy-hued emotion as you admired the intensity in his eyes.

Beautiful. He was in his element, playing a game he loved.

Your eyes fluttered shut. Even the grumbles of frustration when his cart fell behind didn’t tug you farther away from the realm of slumber.

The living room was gone, replaced by the dining room. Jin was standing in front of you. You were holding several forget-me-not flowers out to him. In his hands, the blue darkened to purple before fading into pink.

“What flower is that?”

He tucked it behind your ear. “It's saxifrage, butterfly.”

The stem was poking your cheek. You swiped at the sensation. It didn’t depart - if anything, the prodding intensified.

You blinked to see Jin, his index finger hovering above your face. Jungkook was splayed out on the couch behind him, fast asleep.

He broke into a grin. “You were out for an hour, sleepyhead.”

You stretched. “Well, I guess it’s time to go then.”

“Actually…” he pursed his lips. “If you want to, we could have dinner. I don’t really have time to make anything, but we could do takeout.”

You poked his cheek in retaliation, then swiped your thumb across his lips. They parted under your touch. “I’d love that.”

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

Lisa landed a job as a journalist and moved out of the apartment.

Jin responded to the news with apprehension. “I don’t want you to be alone. You could try living with us.”

“That’s...I still have five months left on the lease. Besides, I can’t live with seven people, Jin, even if they’re your family. I need a separate bathroom.”

“Oh. Right.” He sighed over the phone.

“Did you hear back from the college yet?”

“Not yet. But I think I’ll be accepted...at least, I hope so.”

“They’d be crazy not to. You already have a good record with them.”

You could tell he was smiling. “Thanks, butterfly.”

“How’s Jungkook doing right now?”

Relief saturated his voice. “He got a good report from his doctor. They said he’s in remission.”

“That’s great! Tell him I said ‘Good job! Don’t overdo it.’”

He chuckled. “I will.”

The door to Jin’s house opened before you could even knock. He leaned against the doorframe, with his forearm bearing most of his weight and his ankles crossed.

And his outfit...You raised an eyebrow. He was stunning, but you didn’t understand why he’d donned a fitted black suit when you were just coming over to hang out. At least, you’d thought it was a casual invitation. Then again, he had mentioned that he’d kicked his brothers out for a few hours.

His ears were turning a condemning shade of red the longer you stared at him.

“Jin…? Did you have ulterior motives, perhaps?”

“...Maybe a few..?”

You took a step closer. “I don’t mind them, Jin. Not from you, not like this.”

“Oh…” A small tremor ran through him as you grasped his tie.

“Although you didn’t need to dress up. If you could see yourself...well, besides through a mirror. You’re breathtaking, Jin.”

“Ah...okay.” Jin looked down at himself, a seed of doubt flickering in his expression. As if you could possibly be talking about anyone else.

You laughed softly. “Come here, you ridiculous man.” Tugging on his tie, you connected lips. His tongue swiped along your bottom lip, asking for entrance that you eagerly granted.

Jin’s hands settled on the small of your back, pulling you flush against him. He lifted you into the air as you flung your arms around his neck. Your legs wrapped around his middle before he supported your thighs.

You nibbled on his pierced earlobe, blowing a soft breath out and watching the silver drop earring sway. His grip tightened on you.

“Jin?”

“Yeah?”

Glimmers of moonlight reflected in his eyes.

You have the most beautiful heart.

How was I lucky enough to have these moments with you?

“I’m really happy we met, you know.” As he entered his room, you nudged the door shut with your foot.

“Me too.” Everything about Jin seemed impossibly tender. His voice, his eyes, his smile. He lowered you onto the bed with the same amount of care.

You shimmied out of your jeans, using his shoulder for balance. Your shirt landed on the floor next as you knelt. You undid his belt and started sliding his dress pants down his toned thighs, palming his bulge as you went. Above you, Jin let out a quiet groan, his fingers momentarily frozen in their descent of his shirt buttons.

Heat pooled in your core as he took time to fold his clothes and hang them over the back of a chair. He was playing with you now, you were sure. There was no way he didn’t know how much you yearned for his touch.

When he was within reach, you tangled a hand in his hair and slotted your mouth against his.

His hands slid up your bare back, lingering at the bra band. The fabric pressed into your skin before falling.

Jin pulled away. The lunar glow of his irises had been swallowed by a starless night. “I want to see all of you.”

A shiver raced down your spine. Breathless, you let the garment drop to the floor, followed by your underwear.

“Sit back properly, Y/N.”

You didn’t look away from him as you scooted backwards, into a nest of pillows. He sank to his knees. “Can I go down on you, butterfly?”

Butterfly.

You trembled at that, how he could call you so innocently, yet resemble nothing but temptation. His pupils were blown out in lust, his honey skin gleaming with a light sheen of sweat, and his lips swollen with your kisses.

“Yes.” You managed. “But you still have boxers on.”

He smiled at that. “I’m taking care of you right now. Lay back and relax.”

A yelp escaped when he gripped your thighs, lifting your lower body in order to place a pillow there. He propped himself up on his elbows.

Jin’s hair was silky, brushing against your skin as he pressed a kiss to your inner thigh. His thumb glided along your folds, paying attention to your clit. His tongue circled the bundle of nerves, switching between broad swipes and targeted licks.

Your body jolted when he inserted a finger past your entrance, curling it inside you. He lapped up the juices, his gaze flicking to yours.

A fresh wave of arousal hit you.

The casual way Jin had held you captive with just a look...he’d taken root in your life, to the point that you’d suffer without him. You’d recover, eventually.

You always did.

But not at full health. Your body couldn’t even remember what that was like, and your mind struggled to process the distance between who you were ‘before,’ and who you were ‘after.’

“Butterfly?” Jin called you back. He’d sat up.

You blinked. “Yeah?”

“You looked...sad.”

You rested your forehead against his. “It’s not much. I’m just grateful to have you in my life.”

His hands cupped your face. Searching your eyes, he asked, “Do you still want to continue?”

He saw the confirmation as you spoke, “Yes.”

Jin removed his boxers, tossing them on the floor. He positioned his cock at your folds and eased into you, watching your reactions. You bit your lip at the beginning of each movement, and let out a little sigh as pleasure overwhelmed any fading discomfort.

When he bottomed out, Jin touched your cheek. “Can I move, baby?” At your nod, he rolled his hips, delivering controlled, powerful strokes.

“Perfect for me.” He rasped. “My beautiful butterfly.” Jin intertwined his fingers with yours, gazing down at you. Locks of hair curled against his forehead, his earrings catching light with every thrust.

You dragged your nails across his back. His shoulders were incredibly broad, tapering to his more delicate waist. Despite all the power he possessed, he was one of the most gentle people you knew.

He bent his head. You felt a slight sting above your collarbone, but he soothed the love bite with his tongue. He latched onto a breast, teasing the sensitive bud and stoking the fire in your core. It raced along your nerves, leaving them alight and craving more.

Perhaps Jin was the best (non-medicinal) cure for you.

You traced his jaw, lightly hooking a finger under his chin and urging him further over you. You nosed at the hollow of his throat, and a moan tumbled from his lips. When you nipped at his skin and laved the mark, his hips stuttered.

“Y/N,” his voice had deepened, “I don’t wanna hold back anymore.”

You looked into his eyes. “Then don’t.”

“On your knees.” Ji-...Seokjin growled.

You scrambled to obey. His palms pressed into your shoulder blades, guiding your hands flat against the bed. You melted inside at the dual caress on either side of your spine, and swallowed a whimper when his hands became rough, kneading your ass.

“Let me hear your pretty voice.” He sank into your warmth.

Seokjin set a brutal pace, pounding into you. His panting, the slap of skin against skin, and your ragged breathing intermingled. You were hurtling towards the edge of release, but a wave of bone-deep weariness was licking at your heels.

His rhythm slowed. You had time to wonder if Seokjin or Jin was in charge, before his hand pushed your legs apart. He rubbed circles on your clit, varying the pressure of his touch.

You were falling apart under Seokjin’s skilled fingers, but the oncoming orgasm sapped your strength. Your arms shook, threatening to give out. Unable to fight the fatigue creeping in around your joints and limbs any longer, you gasped, “I can’t..Jin, I’m exhausted.”

He pulled out. In equal, warring measure, your body ached for rest and to have him inside you again.

You curled into a ball, listening to his steps fade. He was back within a minute, his touch and voice soft when he placed a hand on your shoulder. “Y/N?”

You made a muffled noise, hidden by the pillow. His weight sank into the bed. You lifted your head reluctantly when he stayed silent. “Jin...I'm so sorry.”

He shook his head. “You did your best, baby.”

Your lip quivered as you cast your gaze down. “-...do better for you.”

“I know.” He started to dab at your neck with a damp cloth. “You’re more important, Y/N. There are other ways to get off.”

You sat up slowly. Jin’s hand moved to your shoulder.

A strangled noise left your throat when you glanced downwards. You should’ve known, since he hadn’t climaxed earlier.

Actually seeing his erection made it sink in.

“How can I help you?”

“You don’t need to do anything.”

You were begging now, tears welling in your eyes. “Jin, baby, please. Let me help you.”

He wrenched his gaze away from your pleading, heartsick expression. “I’m sorry.”

You threw the duvet over your head, but it didn’t dampen the sound of running water in the next room.

He was taking a shower.

The tears overflowed.

You wanted to be his equal. He’d focused so much on your own pleasure, forgoing his own.

The shower stopped not long after. You burrowed closer to the wall, bunching the duvet in your fists to hold it down.

His steady footsteps halted at the edge of the bed. “Can you let me in, butterfly?”

Your resolve wavered, and you released the fabric. Cool air brushed against your back as you heard him get into bed. The duvet fell again, covering you up to the shoulder.

Jin embraced you from behind. His palm radiated warmth against your stomach, and he hooked his leg over yours.

You tried to wriggle out of his arms. “How can you want to touch me now?”

His voice was unsteady. “Because you’re my miracle, Y/N.”

“But I didn’t...you wouldn’t….I didn’t help you.”

“I didn’t want you to because you’re exhausted, butterfly. When you feel up to it, you can.”

You clamped a hand over your mouth, trying to stifle your sobs.

“Shh, baby. It’s okay.” Jin whispered into your ear. He didn’t loosen his hold, and you placed your other hand on his forearm.

Not to push him away, but to reassure him you understood. That you were grateful...for everything. And that you’d try your hardest to have him finish with you.

He listened to your breathing even out and felt your body go lax as sleep claimed you. A small twinge of regret flashed through him when he remembered the letter he’d received.

He’d tell you later, he decided. You needed rest, not excitement (even if you had been awake.)

----

“This is amazing, Jin!” You were beaming by the time you reached the end of his letter. “When does the program start?”

“September 5th.” He was smiling too, his dream glowing in his eyes.

Pride fluttered in your chest. “You’ll be great, baby. Wait-” A slight frown marred your forehead. “Is that why you had a suit on before? To celebrate?”

“Well...yes. It was the first reason, anyway.”

You covered your face with your hands. “Oh god. I just assumed...fuck. I’m sorry, Jin.”

He almost laughed, but guessed that would not have been the kindest reaction. “No, there was that too. I posed in the doorway like that to seduce you.”

You snorted, but it was betrayed by the warm curve of your lips. “Of course.”

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

His reason for wanting to be a nurse was simple. Two of the most important people in his life depended heavily on the hospital and its staff. He knew how important it was to have well-functioning hospitals, not just for you and Jungkook, but for everyone.

You were just happy to see him working towards his dream. You had no doubt that he'd be able to play a part in other people’s lives.

Jin had a healing presence, after all.

#jin x reader #seokjin x reader #bts seokjin x reader #seokjin smut #bts jin #jin angst #jin fluff #seokjin angst #seokjin fluff

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sokkabeifong · 4 years ago

Note

Can you write some tokka angst 🙏

ofc I can anon and IM SORRY THIS IS SO LATE but better late than never I guess. this is set in modern times because modern times are fun to write for tokka okay? a bit longer than usual but the more angst the better am I right

Toph had promised Sokka that she’d go to the hospital when it happened, so that’s exactly what she’d done. She hadn’t promised that she’d actually get anyone’s attention. Or check in. Or ask for help.

Although… the contractions were getting more insistent, and she doubted the medical staff would leave her alone if she stripped off the stupid maternity pants and just squatted down right there on the lobby floor.

With a heavy sigh, she waddled her way over to the nearest front desk. Spirits, she hadn’t been in a hospital in years. She wasn’t even sure what the different branches and buildings and desks were all for. But there was no way that she was giving birth at home. Katara was in medical school, sure, but she wasn’t done. And Toph wasn’t about to risk her life and her child’s life for a “practice trial.”

Still, there was something unnerving about the hospital, with its stuffy feeling and too-squeaky floor. It feels clean, clean in a way that you can just sense. She didn’t need sight to tell her just how antibacterial this place was.

A pinging, traitorous part of her wishes that someone was here with her, that she didn’t have to do this alone. But it was her own stupid pride that had taken a cab all alone in a Wednesday night, and the only person she truly wanted present was somewhere she could never get him back from. She’d promised him before he died that she would go to the hospital if she felt even the slightest change. He wanted her to be safe, he said.

And now, of course, Sokka was dead and gone while she was here, swollen belly stretching out her sweater and maternity pants. As much of an annoyance as labor would be, getting the thing out of her was going to be a blessing. She’d spent too long unbalanced and vulnerable to attack.

“Can I help you?”

Toph was broken out of her musings by the question from someone sitting at the closest desk. She turned her head to where she hoped the person, a woman by the sound of it, would be.

“I hope so,” she smiled, falling back into a generic cover ID face. “I should probably see a doctor.”

“All right,” said the woman. She heard the clicking of nails on a keyboard, then something sliding across the desk. “Why don’t you take one of these forms, fill it out, and bring it back here?”

“Can’t ,” she said shortly. “I’m blind.”

“No worries.” The woman clicked her pen open like she had blind pregnant ladies come into the ER every day. Who knew - maybe she did. “I’ll ask you the questions and you answer, okay?”

“Okay.” Toph winced as another contraction hit her. At least the protruding baby bump gave her something to lean against. She made sure to breathe in through her nose and out through her mouth as the woman began questioning her, just as Katara had instructed her to do. I’m a few hours, the whole thing would be over and then - she bit her lip and redirected her thoughts.

She wished Sokka was -

She redirected that thought, too.

“Reason for your visit?” the woman asked, yapping the pen against the clipboard.

Toph waited a moment before she turned around yet again, because she was in the middle of another contraction and couldn’t decide whether she’d rather scream or just go ahead and kill the lady.

“My contractions are about eight minutes apart,” she said.

The lady blinked once and then repeated, “They’re eight minutes apart from each other? So you’re in labor. Are you in active labor?”

Toph smiled sweetly. “Are you asking me to stick my fingers down and see whether or not I’m dilated to seven centimeters?”

To the woman's credit, the crudity didn't seem to faze her, and she plowed ahead with, “Ma’am, this is the ER. We’re not equipped for a birth. I’ll call you a wheelchair immediately, and we’ll get you up to Labor and Delivery. Trust me, it’ll be faster than checking in here and waiting for a transfer.”

“Where’s Labor and Delivery?”

“Fourth floor, and I -”

“I’ll just walk over there. It’s fine.”

“Ma’am, I really must insist. You’ve technically checked in—” she waved the yellow paper “—and you’re our responsibility now.”

Toph leaned heavily against the counter and deftly snatched the page out of the woman’s hand. At least her coordination was still functional.

“There. Now I didn’t check in, and I’m my own problem.”

“Ma’am, please. You’re in no condition to go wandering the hospital, whether you take that against your pregnancy or your eyesight. Let me just call someone to wheel you over.”

Luckily for the woman, another contraction rendered her unable to give a snappy retort. She waited for it to pass, quietly, quickly, then faced the lady once more.

“Fine,” she said tightly. “Fine. Fine.”

“Thank you,” the lady said, obviously relieved. Apparently she did not deal with stubborn blind pregnant women on the daily.

By the time she had been put in a wheelchair and taken through the long halls and winding corridors to Labor and Delivery, Toph had managed to calm herself down. Not because the situation was in any way calming, but because she’d stressed her body and mind out enough that she’d fallen into full-blown mission mode.

Which was fine. It’d probably be easier to give birth with that attitude.

“Well, you seem pretty together, Toph,” the nurse gushed as she checked in yet again at the front desk. “We’ll get you back as soon as possible. For now, if you can just take a seat in one of those chairs, and listen for your name.”

Toph let her real self fade into the background, giving over control to the five other women sitting in the waiting room, and promptly closed her eyes. If she was going to be in pain, she might as well rest while she could.

The calm blind girl out in the lobby was already a topic of discussion.

It wasn’t completely unheard of for someone to come in alone. Life was weird and sometimes people gave birth without anyone they knew to help them through the experience. But this girl? The calm young girl with ebony in her hair and in her eyes wasn’t any of the typical stories. She was clean and put together. She was calm and young and looked like the kind of person who would have a dozen friends by her side, even if the father of the child was no longer in the picture.

And yet, there she sat. First in the waiting room and then in her hospital room.

Alone.

Moreover, Miss Toph Beifong had claimed on her paperwork that her contractions were now five minutes apart. However, she was sitting too calmly for that. In fact, the nurse had sat with phone in hand and timed out more than ten minutes, and the girl hadn’t moved once. She’d sat there calmly. No wincing, no cursing, no crying.

It wasn’t until the nurse pulled the woman back and got down to take a look that anyone believe the claim at all.

"Shit,” the nurse murmured.

The doctor startled and glanced up to see if Toph had been offended by the curse. Fortunately, the girl seemed more concerned with how many fingers she had, and didn’t seem to have heard.

“What?” the doctormurmured, more quietly.

“Her cervix is nine centimeters,” the nurse answered.

“Shit,” the doctor echoed.

By the end of it all, Toph had decided she did not like labor. She’d made that decision before she began crowning, and nothing that followed did anything to change that. While she had experienced worse pain in her life, she had never experienced that kind of pain.

She had once spent four straight hours being absolutely crushed by a girl at the gym and, at the peak of labor, she was pretty sure she’d trade out that experience for her current one.

Nevertheless, she didn’t scream. She screwed up her eyes and doubled her body up and flexed her fingers. Tears leaked from her eyes from the sheer stress of it all. But her lips remained tightly closed. The skin around them grew white from where she bit them between her teeth, and the nurses were afraid she’d draw blood.

One well-intentioned nurse had advised that she just give in and cry out.

Toph had rolled her eyes, widened her legs, and pushed again.

In the end, nature was inevitable. Toph had always had someone to remind her to take good care of her body, so the whole experience was over in a few hours. She collapsed back against the wet bedding. There was sweat and blood and who-knew-what all over her, and she’d probably never feel clean again.

There was screaming in the background, and her eyes finally focused on the small infant being washed by the hospital staff.

Then her view was cut off by the ring of congratulating nurses.

“It’s a beautiful girl. Do you have the name ready for her?”

“Call it Toph, for all I fucking care,” Toph murmured, too quietly for anyone to make out. She turned over on her side, away from the child, and shut her eyes tight.

Later that night, after hours of tossing and turning in her sleep, Toph was awoken by the small mewing sound coming from her bedside. She sighed. She’d tried to have the baby whisked away to some far-off nursery where she wouldn’t have to ignore its presence, but apparently the hospital didn’t “do that anymore.”

Spirits, she felt so empty. Tired and empty and drained.

Deciding she could avoid it no further, Toph feels her way to the other side of the bed. The hospital is quiet, and she can’t even guess what time it is. Probably late at night. She waddled over to the bassinet, and the mewing became a full-fledged scream.

She jumped. The baby continued screaming, but less so, as if it hadn’t realized anyone was there. She found herself reaching down, feeling the child, the blankets, so afraid she would drop it or break it or… worse. For a moment she hesitated.

This is your baby, she thinks. You’re allowed to pick it up. It’s yours. And his. You can pick it up.

Her. She could almost hear Sokka’s voice echo through the room, reminding her that their child wasn’t an it. The thought made her smile.

Slowly, carefully, as though her life depended on it, Toph lowered her arms around the tiny, tiny baby and lifted her up. The baby stopped bawling and snuggled against her mother’s chest.

“Hello,” she said stupidly, like the kid could respond. But her mouth kept moving. “Um. Uh, my name’s Toph. I’m your - Spirits, I guess I’m your mom now, huh?”

The baby gurgled, her lips curled like she might cry again. Toph hurried to keep talking.

“Oh, God, um. What else, what else… uh, you have a bunch of aunts and uncles,” she said. “They’re all gonna help raise you. They’re annoying sometimes, but they mean well. You’re our first baby, you know.”

Our. The word made Toph close her eyes for a second. Try as she might, there would be no more “our.” There was only “she.” The “our” in her partnership was long gone. How was she supposed to tell her child that?

She decided to start with the basics.

“Your daddy was so brave,” she whispered. It hurt to talk about Sokka in the past tense, but she kept going. “He was so, so strong and brave and I just know he would have loved to meet you. He already loved you, you know. He wanted to meet you so bad, kid. He just never got the chance.”

The baby blinked, her eyelids heavy like hearing about the father she would never meet was too much for one night. Toph wholeheartedly agreed and set her down in the bassinet once more, making sure she was secure before plodding back to her own bed and face-planting on the blankets.

The nurse had told her the baby’s eyes were blue. She let that thought sink into her heart before drifting off to sleep.

#atla #tokka #avatar the last airbender #sokka #toph #toph beifong

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sehunniepotwrites · 4 years ago

Text

try again | j.jh

THE JUKEBOX COLLECTION try again - d.ear and jaehyun word count: 1170 a/n: the companion fic to do it all again !

even if this repeats, you should know that i am always on your side, please remember that my answer is you

it was the last show of the year’s spring musical and there you were underneath the bright, burning spotlight, staring at jaehyun from across the stage. he gave you a reassuring smile — a soft, closed lip smile that revealed just one dimple, just as his character was supposed to do — and grabbed your hand with the lightest of touches. his fingers laced together with yours, sending a tingling feeling down your spine.

you gave him a scared smile back, suddenly nervous not because of the musical you were currently putting on but because of what was to happen next. your gaze shifted to his eyes as he delivered his next line.

“do you trust me?” your heart stopped at his low voice, just like it always did. it was funny how anything that came out of his mouth rendered you speechless, even if the words were that of a script.

“i’m not sure i can,” you replied hesitantly, trying to pull your hand away from his as the scene asked you to.

when the cast list was announced, you were a bundle of emotions when you found out jaehyun was playing your opposite in a musical about rekindling a broken romance. granted, he was the boy who stole your heart with his goofy antics and dimpled smile, but he was also the one who ripped it into tiny pieces a year later. not only were you heartbroken, but you had to act like you were in love with the person you were trying to forget. lines and lyrics exchanged through your dreaded rehearsals and as time went on, the dwindling fire between you and him grew stronger with each passing day.

and now when he looked at you standing across from him on an empty stage, his dark brown orbs locked onto your own trembling ones, underneath the shining spotlight you wondered so many things.

you wondered if you ever fell out of love with his dimpled smile, his low boyish laugh, and his goofy nature. jaehyun squeezed your hand lightly, the action blind to the audience, as he said his next line.

“i know i messed up before but whatever this is, i don’t want this to end,” jaehyun replied, pulling you back.

“can we-can we try again?” he stuttered his line, something that didn’t happen during any of the rehearsals or prior shows.

his eyes had a different look than what you were used to seeing on stage during this scene, but it was a familiar one all the same. it held a sense of adoration and a bit of desperation — it was one you used to give him and one he used to return.

was it the roles you were playing that made him look at you that way? but why did this feel different than the other times you had performed this scene? was it because it was the last show or was it something else?

“what makes you think it will work out this time around?” your line slipped through your lips, a bit of hesitation ringing in the dry, theatre air.

he took a deep breath, the soft riffs of a piano’s keys drifting in through the loudspeakers as he waited for his cue.

“even if this repeats, you should know that i am always on your side, please remember that my answer is you

even if we have to go the long way i will still feel the same,

we’ll be alright, i want to try again,

we’ll be alright, i want to try again.”

his baritone voice rang deep and true, blessing the ears of not only you but the audience as well. jaehyun’s eyes never left yours and you could feel the sincerity dripping from each lyric he sang.

the song ended with the piano fading into the background. a hush fell over the crowded audience, waiting for your character to give their response.

was it just the parts you were playing? but looking at him, it didn’t seem like he was faking it.

you searched his eyes for the words unspoken and somewhere between the fluttering of his eyelashes and the heavy eyeliner, you found the love you thought was gone. there he was standing in front of you — the lights illuminating his shy grin, his heaving chest from singing his heart out, his reddening ears and cheeks bleeding through his thick layer of stage makeup. one hand still caressing the back of your palm and the other rubbing his neck and you wanted to laugh. no matter how how much he broke your fragile heart, he was still the most beautiful boy you had ever laid your eyes on and you were most falling in love with him all over again.

you quickly questioned if you ever fell out of love in the first place.

“okay,” you stage whispered your shy reply.

“okay?” he repeated with a quickening heartbeat.

you nodded rapidly, the hair framing your face flying as you did so. a cheek-splitting grin made its way to your lips as your heart hammered against your chest.

“you, me. us. let’s try again,” you said, your answer making his eyes shine a radiance that rivaled the comforting beauty of a sunset in summer. these words were not part of the script but the audience couldn’t tell. it was genuine and fit the scene all the same.

behind the blaring red curtains, the stage managers, cast, and crew were silently cheering with pumped up fists, squeezing hands, and uncoordinated happy dances. johnny, a mutual friend you both shared, shook his head fondly as he observed from the sidelines.

the watching crowd held their breath as jaehyun gently took you into his hold, arms snaking around your waist. his forehead touched yours as you pulled him close. grabbing his neck, you kissed him on your tallest tiptoes and he returned it with the softest smile. everyone cheered as your hands danced into his thick locks of hair and his hands slid up to cradle your cheeks.

jaehyun ignored the calls of the crowd as he broke away first with his eyes closed, savoring the moment he could call you his again. his nose rubbed lovingly against your own and you smiled up at him as the curtains drew to a close.

he breathed you into another kiss, one filled with more meaning. it was filled with a million apologies for the broken promises and even more thank yous for taking him back. a thumb caressed your cheek before his hand slid down to tilt your jaw up towards him. you pulled back to take a breath and his lips chased yours, not wanting to let you go again.

just a few moments ago, you wondered if the rekindling feelings were due to a shortcoming showmance. but with him kissing you so lovingly behind the closed red curtains with the opening notes of the final bows playing in the background, you knew it was far from that.

#jung jaehyun #jeong jaehyun #jaehyun fic #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun scenario #jaehyun fanfic #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun timestamp #jaehyun x reader #jung jaehyun x reader #nct x reader #nct scenarios #nct timestamps #nct fluff #jaehyun songfic #nikki's playlist #if youre reading the tags this came from the actor jaehyun news #jaehyun angst

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hufflepuffhollander · 4 years ago

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sweet like candy: tom holland one-shot

a/n | I was watching a movie. I was eating gummy worms. I had an idea. Here’s some fanfiction.

summary: You have a sugary sweet movie night with your best friend.

tom x bff!reader | contains fluff. my god, so much fluff. | word count: 880 | enjoy!

“Please, y/n, just come ovvverrrr!”

“Tom, I told you I have work to catch up on!”

“But I’ve been so excited for this movie to come out, and it finally did, and I’ve waited three whole days for it to be the weekend so we could watch it together...can you just facetime me real quick so I can give you my puppy dog eyes?!”

“Damn it, Holland, you know me too well.”

You checked your phone as it buzzed with a snapchat from your friend, a ridiculous photo of him flashing the most exaggerated pout you’ve ever seen. You brought the phone back up to speak, giggling. You’ve never been able to say no to that face.

“Fine, fine! I’ll be there at 7. But there better be snacks, or fists are flying.”

Tom flopped down on the couch and pulled a big fuzzy blanket over himself, thought twice, and then scooted closer to drape some of it over you. On the coffee table was a basket with popcorn, chocolate, and gummy worms. This was no surprise to you- Tom always stocked your regular movie marathons with plenty of junk food to sustain you, the both of you pretzeled together and full of sugar by the time the credits rolled. You loved your movie nights, and you loved your best friend. But you never imagined in a million years that you’d be able to tell him just how much you did.

“Are you ready for this?” Tom excitedly turned on the TV to start the film, already reaching for the bag of gummy worms. Throughout the first half hour, you listened to the bag rustle every few minutes, trying hard to resist taking some, but eventually you gave in.

“Worm me.”

Tom looked over at you, grinned, and reached into the bag, pulling out a gummy worm and handing it to you. They were too delicious to resist, and you ended up eating them at a competitive pace to Tom’s, even though he refused to let you just have the bag. Every few minutes:

Worm. Worm. Tom! Worm me!

The movie was halfway through and had you twiddling your thumbs- it wasn’t as exciting as Tom had hyped it up to be, some overexposed historical drama that made you feel like you were back in school learning about the civil war. You were bored, Tom was looking extra adorable, and a sudden wave of courage washed over you. Maybe it was all the sugar.

“Worm please,” you said, and he went to hand you one- but instead of taking it with your hand, you leaned down and took it with your mouth, biting it slowly so Tom had a moment to look at you. You stared into his eyes as you pulled it back with your teeth and bit a piece of it out of his fingers. You chewed the candy, saying “thanks” with a cheeky smile. Tom looked at you starry eyed, and suddenly didn’t seem to care about the movie.

“You, uh, missed a piece,” he stuttered, looking back at the quarter of a gummy worm in his fingers.

“Yeah. It’s a gift.”

He looked back at you playfully and ate it, chewing with his eyebrows scrunched together.

“Well that’s barely fair, y/n, I only got a quarter of it,” he pouted.

“Fine, we can split the next one in half, then,” you said, motioning for him to get another worm.

“How do we split it?”

You took a deep breath. “Lady and the tramp style?”

Tom looked at you confused.

“You mean, like, with the spaghetti?”

“Mmhmm.”

“...oh.”

“It’s only fair.”

You were scared out of your mind moving into this uncharted territory, but something inside you was spurring you to keep playing. It paid off; Tom slowly started to smile, and looked down at the nearing-empty bag.

“Alright, if you say so.” He couldn’t hide his excitement despite his best efforts.

He took out a gummy worm, looking at it inquisitively, and placed it in between his teeth. He motioned with his fingers for you to come closer to him, shifting himself to face you as you were already sitting close.

You commanded your schoolgirl nerves to chill the hell out and leaned forward slowly, eyes flickering from his glimmering irises to his candied mouth. He started to laugh a little, and you had to look down at your lap in order not to lose it too. Fixated on the task at hand, you then closed your eyes and went to take it, your lips only barely brushing his, but you heard Tom inhale sharply and hold his breath as it happened. You bit down on the candy, lingering for a moment to savor just how good his nose felt brushing yours, and then pulled back, getting your half of the bug.

You both swallowed in silence, cheeks bright red and minds whirling. The movie had been rendered nothing but background noise, as Tom couldn’t pay attention to anything but you.

“Did that feel more fair to you?”

“Yeah, I’ll admit, I liked that much better.”

You didn’t know what door you may have just opened, but you were filled with warm fuzzies at the prospect. You laid your head back on his shoulder and he tucked his arm around you, breathing falling in sync with one another, and shifted your focus back on the TV where the all-but-forgotten movie was still playing.

“Do you have any idea what’s going on?” Tom whispered with his head perched on top of yours.

“Not a clue.”

There was a minute of silence.

“I kinda want another gummy worm,” you said, quietly blushing into the dark.

A smile crept its way into Tom’s voice as he replied.

“...wanna split it?”

#tom holland #tomholland #tom holland imagine #tom holland imagines #tom holland blurb #tom holland blurbs #tom holland one shot #tom holland one shots #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you

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vampiregirl1797 · 4 years ago

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Revelations on the Jet

Spencer Reid x Reader

GIF Not Mine.

Warnings: Mentions of a psycho unsub, otherwise none.

Word Count: 3,557.

Click Here For Masterlist.

Summary: Y/N is a technical analyst for the BAU unit at the FBI. Hotch asks her to come out and help with a case, but on the flight home a certain secret may come out, one she’s worked hard to keep buried for a while now—her crush on a certain genius.

Working for the FBI had never been part of ‘the plan’ when I was younger. Growing up, whenever someone asked me that question I’d always answer with a crime-fighter, and I supposed in a way I was. I was recruited when I left collage at 22, my technical analyst skills had been better than anyone in my graduating class, and apparently good enough to garner the attention of government officials. I started working under the guidance of Penelope Garcia, a colourful, bright and warm hearted woman that I’d become fast friends with. Once she was confident in my abilities, I was officiated and added on to work with her and the BAU team.

Now here I was at 25, and happier than I’d ever imagined I could be. I had a job I adored, friends that were more like family and a crush on a certain team member that I planned to take to the grave. Life was good.

I was pulled out of my thoughts by my phone ringing, I answered without checking who it was, eager to complete some tasks for the team, ‘hello you’re graced with the presence of Y/N, speak and your wish will be granted.’ I supposed you could say working in the same office as Garcia had rubbed off on me a little...

‘Y/N, we’ve found an encrypted computer in the unsub’s establishment, we need you to come down here right away to get into it.’ Hotch’s commanding voice spoke through my headset.

‘Come down there? Wouldn’t you rather Garcia? I mean she’s far more experienced than I am.’ I said, slightly panicked at the idea of leaving the comfort of the bat cave and going into the field.

‘No, Garcia is working on shutting down the website the unsub is using to communicate with the public, and we don’t have time to waste by sending the computer to you.’ He explained, his tone booking no room for argument.

‘Okay sir. I’ll be on the first flight out to Georgia.’ I sighed in defeat.

‘Text JJ with your flight details and she will arrange transportation.’ He hung up the phone and I took a deep breath in an attempt to crush my growing anxiety.

It took me two minutes of typing to secure myself a seat on the next available flight to Georgia, and once I was finished I started to pack up any equipment I might need, in case anymore tech-savvy equipment was uncovered while I was there. All in all I was done in twenty minutes, the to-go bag I had packed for occasions such as these—though this was my first time using it— was sitting on my lap as I waited for the alert that my car was here to drive me to the airport.

‘You’ll be fine, once you’re there and they sit you down at a computer, it’ll be like you’re here with me, just like always.’ Garcia said, her voice comforting as she patted my hand.

‘You’re right, I just over-think and worry about worst case scenarios.’ I sighed, running a hand through my hair.

‘If only our resident genius was here, he could tell you the low statistics of worse case scenarios actually occurring.’ She chuckled and after a moment, I did too, being able to picture Reid spouting out statistics was like breathing at this point.

‘You’re right. Nothing to worry about.’ I nodded, feeling a lot better.

The blonde butterfly gave me a knowing smile and handed me a small stuffed elephant, ‘take him with you, he’ll keep you safe and make you feel comforted.’

‘I can’t take Earl!’ I exclaimed, attempting to give him back but she refused.

‘He’s in your hands now, I expect him to come back as good as new.’ She gave me a serious look and I nodded, knowing she would be able to see the sincerity in my expression; at this point I had more ‘cheerful reminders’ in our office than she did, so I understood the importance of keeping them safe.

Ten minutes later I received the call informing me that my transportation had arrived. After a hug with Garcia, Earl and I were on our way to the airport, ready to decode this computer and help put this sicko behind bars.

I thanked the driver that JJ had arranged to pick me up as he dropped me off at the station with my equipment— he’d already taken me to drop my to go bag in my reserved room at the hotel. With a deep breath, I clutched Earl tighter in my right hand and carefully laid my bag over my shoulder.

‘Let’s do this.’ I whispered, walking through the doors with more confidence than I was feeling.

I couldn’t see any familiar faces and I was just about to ask one of the uniformed officers where the FBI agents had set up when I saw familiar soft brown hair exiting one of the conference rooms.

‘Reid!’ I shouted, perhaps a little too loudly, but I ignored the stares of the officers and made my way over to the genius.

‘Y/N!’ His expression brightened as he took me in, and when he saw that I was clutching Earl, his eyes softened.

Before I could say anything, Reid scooped me up in his arms and just like that I was surrounded by warmth. My face rested against his chest and I couldn’t help but slightly nuzzle against the soft cardigan he was wearing, relaxing into him as the scent of his fabric softener and woodsy cologne invaded my nostrils. Honestly, Reid gave the best hugs, it was impossible not to feel relaxed, comforted and safe in his warm embrace. I’m not sure how long he held me for, but when he pulled back to look at my face, his hands lingering on the tops of my arms, my previous anxiety was gone.

‘How are you feeling? Do you need something to drink, something to eat?’ He asked, his voice soft as his observant cinnamon eyes took in my expression.

‘I’m good, I ate on the plane and I have water in my bag.’ I smiled, trying not to blush as I felt his hand hovering above my lower back as he led me to the conference room.

‘Are you ready for this?’ He asked once I was sat down with the unsub’s laptop in front of me and the appropriate equipment attached.

‘Honey, I don’t think I ever am, but it doesn’t matter, any hesitation on my part could endanger lives or prevent us from saving them so we prevail.’ I pulled my hair up into a ponytail with one of the scrunchies I kept on my wrist and began typing.

Due to my concentration on my task, I failed to notice the way Reid’s cheeks coloured red at my term of endearment, or how he fiddled with the papers in front of him as a ruse whenever he paused for a moment to observe me.

‘It’s too quiet in here.’ I mumbled after a while, knowing at the bat cave I’d have music playing in the background, not so loud that we couldn’t concentrate or wouldn’t hear our phones if they rang, but loud enough for me to concentrate fully. Pen hated it at first, until I suggested we took turns picking the music, now she loved it and needed it as much as I did.

‘There’s no sound system in here, but I have my headphones in my bag if you wanna hook them up to your phone?’ Spence suggested, sounding almost timid.

‘That would be amazing,’ I paused for a moment to accept them with a bright smile, before plugging them into my phone and getting back to work.

I clicked on one of my many ‘work’ playlists and carried on, humming along to Apocalyptic by Hailstorm. Great song.

I couldn’t have told you how long I was working for, but when a hand tapped me on the shoulder I was so startled that I screamed, my right hand blindly lashing out in the direction of whoever had interrupted me. I exhaled a breath of relief when I saw Derek, hands up in surrender and making no attempts to hide his amusement. I pulled my headphones off and gently set them on the desk in front of me.

‘Derek what the hell?’ I exclaimed, my hand over my chest in an attempt to calm my heartbeat, ‘I was in the zone, you don’t bring someone out of the zone like that unless you want to give them a cardiac arrest!’

‘I’m sorry sweet girl, are you alright?’ He chuckled, winding an arm around my shoulders and pulling me in for a side hug.

‘I will be,’ I sent him a glare as I pulled back, but we both knew it was half-hearted.

‘Where is everyone?’ I wondered, but my question was rendered moot as I saw Reid, JJ and Prentiss making their way over to us.

‘Hotch and Rossi are interviewing the latest victim’s parents, JJ and Prentiss and I have just come back from the latest crime scene.’ Morgan explained.

‘Latest victim?’ I repeated, my tone hinting at my sadness over the news.

‘Yeah.’ Derek offered a comforting smile, kissing my cheek and releasing me as the others joined us in the room.

‘Y/N!’ Prentiss and JJ said in unison, both stepping forward and wrapping me in a hug.

‘Nice to see you’ve come up for air!’ JJ teased as they both pulled back and took seats at the table.

‘Nice to be acknowledged.’ Prentiss winked to show she was teasing.

I chuckled, but I could feel a flush of embarrassment as I paced, trying to ease my suddenly stiff muscles, ‘sorry guys, you know what I’m like, plus it’s paying off as I’m almost in!’

‘That’s great, Y/N.’ Spence offered me a bright smile and a cup of coffee.

‘Oh my god, thank you so much!’ I cheered, taking a gulp straight away, pleasantly surprised that it wasn’t scalding hot, but the perfect drinking temperature.

The others laughed at my exclamation but I paid them no mind, knowing they were only jesting. Plus they knew me well enough to know about my caffeine addiction by now.

‘Right, if I get back in now, I can probably have the computer completely de-encrypted by the time Hotch and Rossi get back.’ I cracked my knuckles, put my headphones back on and dove back in after giving them a peace sign.

It felt like seconds had passed when Reid placed his hand next to my computer, not suddenly enough to scare me, but soft enough to gain my attention. I looked from his hand and up to him, smiling immediately at the sight of his soft cinnamon orbs.

‘What’s up Spence?’ I asked, slipping the headphones to rest around my neck.

‘Hotch was wondering how close you are?’ He murmured softly, his chin gesturing to the speakerphone at the centre of the table.

‘Actually, Sir, I’m waiting for the final part of the code to be de-encrypted, so minutes.’ I said, my voice tentative.

‘That’s great, Y/N, we’re all on our way back to the station to see what you’ve uncovered.’ He replied, and I barely managed to get out a ‘thank you sir’ before he hung up the phone.

‘Why are they all coming back?’ I wondered, my voice soft and a little confused. Usually in these kinds of cases Pen and I sifted through the relevant information and then sent it directly to the team.

‘This unsub takes great gratification in his murders, but when we searched his apartment we didn’t find any souvenirs that would allow him to relive his crimes. We think he has something on his laptop to allow him to do that.’ Spencer explained, his eyes gentle with understanding as my expression became distraught.

‘Right, okay, sicko souvenirs coming right up.’ I said, putting my nausea and disgust to the back of my mind to allow myself to focus.

‘Are you sure you don’t want a minute?’ He said, his hand gently resting on top of mine on the keyboard and halting my movements.

I turned my hand over and gripped it in mine tightly. No words were spoken between us, he let me hold his hand for as long as I needed and when I finally felt in control of my emotions again, I sent him a grateful smile that he returned.

‘Thank you, Spence. I didn’t realise how much I needed that.’ I squeezed his hand once more before letting go.

‘I’m always here for you, Y/N, whenever you need me.’ He promised, patting my shoulder on his way out of the room. He was holding his coffee mug so I assumed he was going to get a refill.

I was snapped out of watching him walk away as the computer in front of me beeped: ‘Access Granted’ was written in green against the black desktop, before it disappeared and allowed me into his files. With a deep breath I started sifting through, finding the evidence of his crimes quicker than I would have liked— it turned out that aside from some accounting files, this laptop was primarily used for storing every horrific thing he’d done to these women. He had nine videos, each of a different blonde haired Caucasian woman being tortured and then eventually murdered. I could tell this must have gone on for hours for each individual woman, but he’d clearly edited the footage down to the ‘best bits.’ Each was five minutes long and I’d just finished watching the last video when the team rejoined me.

‘Videos.’ I said, elaborating at the confusion, ‘his souvenirs are videos of his victims. The torture and each individual murder. He’s clearly edited the footage, but if he did that on this laptop then I can probably recover it if you need me to.’

‘We’ll all watch the current videos as they are, you get started on that, Y/N.’ Hotch said as the team all pulled out their tablets to watch the videos I’d already sent to them.

I nodded, pulling my headphones up and taking a deep breath to squelch the dread bubbling up in my gut. This isn’t about you I reminded myself, and with a nod I dove back in and uncovered frame by horrifying frame that the unsub had edited out. I had to call Pen and ask her to split the footage with me, as it was too much for me to shift through by myself, and time was of the essence. Once it was divided I leapt back in, trying not to flinch at every scream. I frowned when I noticed the unsub look up to the camera and smile, but he wasn’t looking into the lens, he was looking at something behind the camera. Or someone. With a hunch in mind, I ran the audio through a filter and took out the girls screams, bringing me to a shocking revelation. The unsub had a partner... and it was a woman.

As much as I hated flying, I was honestly relieved to be on the jet back to Quantico. I was settled in one of the singular seats by the window, staring out into the darkness and hoping that the victim we’d manage to save would recover from the trauma she’d been subjected to. No one should have to go through something so horrific, but I was just glad she hadn’t died like the others.

‘Hey.’ Spence’s soft voice broke me from my mind.

‘Hey.’ I returned the greeting with a smile and accepting the blanket he offered me, ‘how did you know I was cold?’

‘I saw you rubbing your upper arms.’ He shrugged but he looked almost... bashful and it made my heartbeat stutter in my chest.

‘Well, thank you.’ I lifted the blanket to cover his both and explained at Reid’s raised brow, ‘we both know you’ll be dozing off soon, you might as well be cozy.’

He laughed softly, not wanting to disturb the other passengers— they’d all been asleep for a while now. When his arm came up and rested on my shoulders, I snuggled into his side without hesitation, missing the fond expression that formed on his face as I did. For the first time since he’d hugged me yesterday, I finally felt relaxed, calm and safe.

‘You did good on this case, you know.’ He said after a moment, his hand moving softly up and down on my arm.

I blushed, but otherwise reminded silent, not knowing what to say and not really believing he wasn’t just trying to be nice.

‘I’m serious. If you hadn’t uncovered that the partner was a woman, we would have released the girl when she came to the station claiming the unsub had beat her up.’ He said, the passion he usually reserved for his trivia coating his words.

‘I’m glad I helped, and I’m glad we were able to save Angela.’ I murmured quietly, but I knew he could hear me.

‘Me too.’ He agreed, holding me tighter to his side.

We were silent for a while, until he cleared his throat and said something that had me from the cusp of falling a sleep, to wide awake within seconds.

‘Derek pointed something out to me yesterday before you got to Georgia. He said that whenever you’re around me you’re relaxed in a way that you aren’t with anyone else.’ He spoke fast, his tone coated with anxiety and... hope? ‘It’s something I’ve never noticed before, but when he mentioned it, I found myself observing things I’d never seen before. The way you calmed as soon as you hugged me after you arrived at the station, the way you didn’t completely melt into the hugs Derek, JJ and Prentiss gave you. The way you didn’t jump when I caught your attention, the way your expression brightens up whenever we make eye contact.’

My heart was thundering in my chest, but my body refused to stiffen and remained as relaxed as it always did when I was in Spencer’s arms. I didn’t know what to do, I thought I’d been more subtle but apparently not. What should I say? But I realised he hadn’t actually asked me anything yet, and I assumed he was only bringing this up to address my feelings and gently let me down. Instead of jumping in and potentially making the situation worse, I decided to wait until he asked me whatever he was building up to ask me.

‘I guess I realised you feel safe and carefree with me.’ He took a deep breath, ‘and I’m relieved because you make me feel the same way. You make me feel calm, you make my mind slow down so I can actually keep up with the millions of thoughts that are constantly swirling through my mind. When you hug me, smile at me, hold my hand... the tension I didn’t realise I was carrying around just eases from my body. I can’t explain it with justice, Y/N, but I’m certain that what I’m feeling is love. I’m in love with you. And I was wondering if there was a chance that you would maybe go on a date with me?’

I knew my expression was mirroring the surprise and complete and utter shock I was feeling on the inside, because Spencer’s face started to redden with embarrassment. He opened his mouth again, probably to apologise, or something equally absurd, but I lifted my hand and gently placed it over his mouth.

‘I would love to go on a date with you, Spence.’ I told him, removing my hand when his eyes sparkled with relief and complete joy.

‘Thank god.’ He breathed, his forehead resting against mine as his eyes fluttered closed.

I breathed out a laugh, rubbing my nose against his softly and murmuring, ‘I love you too, you know. I have for a while.’

His lids lifted, his eyes had warmed to chocolate as they swam with happiness, ‘you have no idea how good that is to hear.’ His hand brushed my hair behind my ear and then caressed the side of my face.

‘I think I know pretty well.’ I grinned, my hand curling in his hair as we moved towards each other simultaneously.

His lips were soft, warm and wonderful as they moved against mine. A part of me couldn’t believe how natural it felt to kiss him, but the other part of me was unsurprised— everything felt natural with Spencer, from hugging, to holding hands and not speaking a word to each other for hours at a time but enjoying one another’s presence regardless, there had never been a moment that hadn’t felt right. And this was no exception. His lips moved expertly across mine, with no hesitation, no reverence, as if we had done this together a million times before. And I had no doubt in my mind that we would do this a million times after, because there was no way that being with him felt so perfect, if it wasn’t meant to be. Spence was my soulmate that I was sure of.

A/N: I know, another Spencer Reid imagine! I’d apologise but I love him, and he’s all I’ve been inspired to write lately, so I’m embracing it. Hope you liked this one!

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #Criminal Minds

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