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hyeinism · 5 months

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( ♡ )⠀𝒆𝒏𝒉𝒚𝒑𝒆𝒏 as . . . 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑏𝑜𝑦𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑 .ᐟ ❝ boy you're such a dream to me ❞ ꒷꒦ ot7 𝑒𝑛ℎ𝑎 𝜗𝜚 ⟢ headcanons & established relationship fluff ৲ 𝖒𝖞 𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔩𝔰 ㅤ ♡ ㅤ

𐙚 . . via's entry ❫ ilysm plz enjoy my first thingy, 2239wc | fem reader .

✦ . . 이희승 ！

bf!heeseung who does aegyo for you and only you! he’d make sure no one else was in close proximity and then go “heedeungie!!” before cringing, and shutting his eyes closed, only reopening them to see your pretty smile.

bf!heeseung who always knows what you want, even if u’ve just glanced at a cute plushie at the store for one second best bet he’ll buy you every plushie from that brand, becoz ur his prince(ss) ofc

bf!heeseung who’d write little romantic ballads for you and call you randomly throughout the day (even during sleep hours!) so that you can hear his melodic voice sing the most shakespearean lyrics about his love for u 🥰

bf!heeseung who is like a bf and a therapist all in one! literally send as many voice messages ranting abt ur life as u can to him becoz he will listen to all of them and then respond with a voice message 10x longer

bf!heeseung who gets a bit impatient… likes listening to u talk but did u know that if u go longer than 42.32 seconds without kissing him he will eventually just stare at your lips and mumble random words while u rant every now and then; it gets you all hot and flustered when you realize where his attention actually is. soon enough, you just go “just kiss me if you want to.” and that’s enough for him to look back up at you, grin and softly press his lips against yours (contrary to popular opinion his kisses would be very soft! 🤓☝️) while grabbing both your shoulders with his hands

bf!heeseung who loves ur shoulders for some reason?? i just have this gut feeling that his favorite part about you is your shoulders?? like idk why, my heeseung senses r just tingling. anyways yes, he’d rest his head on your shoulders, kiss ur shoulders, put his arms over your shoulders and around your neck and whatnot!

✦ . . 박종성 ！

bf!jay who’d spent astronomical amounts of money (willingly :)) in just a week!! he refuses to buy you cheap counterparts, expensive is what his pretty lover deserves !

bf!jay WHO WOULD COOK THE MOST GOURMET MEALS FOR YOU! if it is a cultural dish, he will take time out of his day to cook in the kitchen with you until he learns how to make said cultural dish, then he will make it for u 4ever and ever!!! jay is certainly a caring partner

bf!jay who gives u sm partner privilege it’s insane. like he’d do anything for you without a second doubt. ask him to help you look for ur phone? no need, he’s already bought you 10 different new ones!

bf!jay who is such a romantic partner?? like if ur at work late, he will set up a whole candlelit dinner (hand made cuisine) with “moonlight” by kali uchis playing in the background. (jay looks like that song :3)

bf!jay likes tracing his fingers over your delicately placed features like you were sculpted by Greek Gods, and he’s nothing but a mere commoner admiring your beauty.

bf!jay gets matching things for you two ☹️ matching pandora rings, matching shoes/heels, what is there that he wouldn’t wear to twin with you! hell, he’d even do that cute thing where he matched the color of his tie to your dress!

bf!jay who does likes to go out with you, but he also likes to stay in! no matter what, he wants to be with you.

bf!jay who thinks that reading a romcom cuddled up with you under rain is a perfect way to spend saturday afternoon! (hint: he doesn’t usually like to read romcoms, he just loves spending time with you too much to say no 💖)

to conclude, jay just loves to do things for you. he always tries to impress you/make himself the perfect boyfriend for you by planning dates, getting u gifts, and doing whatever you need at all times (i feel like he believes he’ll never be good enough for u 😕)

✦ . . 심재윤 ！

bf!jake who gets so shy around u?? like stop u could stare at him and when he finally notices he’ll giggle like a little girl about it. he has the biggest crush on you ever it’s unbelievable

“okay fine, i love you more than my dog. i love you more than anyone, actually. is that weird?”

bf!jake who is a playful and lighthearted person, he truly does not have the capability to get mad at you 💞

but ofc he’s human, so when you two (somehow) get into arguments, he’ll always be the one to show up at your door at like 3am with a cute pout on his face because he misses you (it’s been 6 hours since you guys have last talked??) anyways how could you say no to his puppy face! obviously, u let him in and you two cuddle the night away

bf!jake who calls you layla’s mom and gets like cuteness aggression when he sees you and layla together

bf!jake who would say “this is for you” before shooting a hoop (and missing) for shits n giggles

bf!jake who clings onto you like his life depends on it……. this guy is so clingy???? like stop u won’t be able to use your non dominant hand at all because jake is just grabbing onto it for dear life

bf!jake who would LOVEE if his girlfriend had soft and plush cheeks. he’d squish ur face and giggle continuously at how cute you looked, pouty-faced and all.

bf!jake who likes simple yet planned out dates. picnics, arcade dates, carnival dates, and more are all apart of his comfort zone! but if you wanted to try anything new, he’d totally be up for it

bf!jake who loves u sososo unconditionally and always sticks by your side!! he’s like the type to agree with you in public and softly correct you in private.

bf!jake who smothers you with affection hourly reminds you everyday that he loves ur hair, ur face, ur body, ur legs, ur hands, and most importantly, YOU!!!

✦ . . 박성훈 ！

bf!sunghoon who would take you on ice skating dates and then take photos of you slipping on the ice (which don’t even come out that good because he’s busy laughing 🙄 )

bf!sunghoon who teases you then smirks when you get flustered like you teasing him doesn’t result in him having a mental breakdown of some sorts??? like boy plz

bf!sunghoon WHO IS SO SASSY OVER TEXT?? he’s literally your princess. “🙄🫸” is his go to emoji combo

bf!sunghoon who posts mirror selfies of the two of you and tries to be mysterious in the captions: “me n my girl 🖤”

bf!sunghoon who learns random english phrases (or ur main language) to impress you with

bf!sunghoon who wants to match styles with his s/o. would love to be the classy, romantic, sort of private couple.

bf!sunghoon who isn’t that into pda but if someone else starts flirting with you or even looks at you he’ll start being all touchy until the other person goes away. he’s super protective of u but doesn’t really show it that often

bf!sunghoon who pretends to be annoyed when you steal his hoodies knowing damn well he likes when you take his hoodies because they always smell like you after you give them back!!!!!

bf!sunghoon who loves to go on late night walks with you. everytime he sees a wildflower, he’ll pluck it for you and tuck it in your hair

bf!sunghoon who definitely can not fall asleep unless he gets a goodnight kiss from you 💖

✦ . . 김선우 ！

as your boyfriend, sunoo would love your hair sm.

especially if you had long hair he’d buy you shampoos, conditioners, everything! he’d also love to blow dry your hair for you and style it and everything

bf!sunoo would 100% let you sit on his lap and practice your makeup on him!!

bf!sunoo who would love to bake with you!!!! like he would make cakes and then use icing to spell out you two’s intials on the top

bf!sunoo who’s favorite form of affection is holding hands 💞 he’d do the thumb thing and adores when you grabs his hand randomly throughout the day, it gives him butterflies!

bf!sunoo who gets you small bouquets of tulips everytime he sees you!

bf!sunoo who loves to lay on your chest while cuddling and listen to your heartbeat (not in a creepy way, it’s just super comforting for him)

bf!sunoo who places gentle kisses all over your face before you fall asleep. he always makes sure to fall asleep after you so you’re comfortable

bf!sunoo who goes over your drama with you and hates whoever you hate. he’s your best friend and your boyfriend all at once!

bf!sunoo who is insanely creative when it comes to date ideas. he will make sure that he is the one planning dates most/all of the time!! his favorites are picnics, art dates, café dates and museum dates!!

bf!sunoo who loves to have a runway show in your bedroom after every one of your shopping trips!! he would coordinate the outfits and then cheer you on as you strut down the hallway

sunoo would tease you (not that much tho) about your height (would love a short gf!!) and then giggle about it and you just have to accept it cuz it makes him happy and his smile is literally the prettiest thing ever

bf!sunoo who genuinely does not know how to hate you, he’d give the softest love ever ☹️

✦ . . 양정원 ！

bf!jungwon who loves to tickle you. ik it sounds weird but just hear me out 🥰 he’d definitely just tickle the side of your waist randomly while you guys are cuddling just to hear your laugh and annoy you

bf!jungwon who prefers to be called “won” or other nicknames/petnames by you rather than his real name. would pout if you ever called him “jungwon” and go “hey!”

bf!jungwon who keeps a collection of cute photos of you on his phone to go through when he misses u ☹️ it’s genuinely so wholesome.

bf!jungwon also would keep a folder of just a bunch of 0.5 photos of you doing random things and make them your pfp on all messaging apps.

bf!jungwon who does silly little tiktok couple trends with you whenever you ask him to

bf!jungwon would ask you to do a spin everyday to see your outfit and then gush about how good you look!!

bf!jungwon, who often stays up late at night with you while the two of you talk about the future family you will have. | a conversation between the two of you would go, “we’ll have two kids! or three? or four?” “no, we’ll have cats instead. two cats, and one of them is you!”

bf!jungwon who ruffles your hair teasingly only to fix it again, pulling at each strand and placing it in its place gently

bf!jungwon who texts you random romantic song lyrics throughout the day, which never fail to fluster you and make you giggle

bf!jungwon who is a sucker for cheek kisses. before you leave him, he’d be like “oh, you’re forgetting something :(“ and you’d always play along, “what?” you’d say with a giggle as he’d point to his cheek, the place where you’d leave a small but loving peck!

✦ . . 西村力！

bf!riki who gets butterflies whenever you call him his real name, riki, over his stage name. it makes him feel closer to you 💞

bf!riki who would make playlists for the two of you, naming them with you guys’ initials.

bf!riki who’d always had this fantasy of teaching his future girlfriend to dance, and that’s exactly what he does with you. he’d slowly wrap his arms around your own and guide them to the music.

bf!riki just would not let you get out of bed?? like every morning it’s a struggle for you 💔 “ni-ki let me go i’ll be late!” “no, 5 more minutes 😠” and how could u say no

bf!riki who always giggles in between kisses, causing you to pull away and lean your forehead on his while the two of you smile at one another fondly

bf!riki who LOVES to see u in his hoodies!! in fact, he’d even leave his hoodies at ur house just to see you wear it, and then tease you for it. “ew, give me back my hoodie, stinky.” he’d say, but in his head he’s kicking his feet at how ur body is engulfed by the cloth which is 10x too long for you.

bf!riki who pulls you out of bed late at night for impromptu 3AM walks to the convenience store.

bf!riki would teach you japanese and absolutely die everytime you try to say something in japanese for him

bf!riki who would tease you so much, especially if you were shorter than him, he’d misplace your things, putting them on high shelves and whatnot so you have no choice but to ask him to grab it for you

bf!riki who is super shy in front of other people, but when it’s just you two he gets super physical and touchy and affectionate!

bf!riki who mumbles sweet nothings into the crook of your neck while you two are cuddling after he’s sure you’ve fell asleep 💤 💖

tysm for reading! 𓂃 back to the library !

⠀

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supernovafics · 1 year

Text

𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐒𝐓

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 6.3k words

summary: in which the summer of ‘84 was both the best and worst time of your life

warnings: explicit language, underaged drinking, angst, fluff, implied smut, cheating

author’s note: second part to cardigan (but could be read out of order). i fully did not expect this to end up this long but hope y’all enjoy<33 (full “folklore” album series masterlist here!)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“but i can see us lost in the memory. august slipped away into a moment in time.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

July 19, 1984

Ten.

That was how many days in a row you and Steve had seen each other.

From the first time you two talked to one another outside of Ralph’s Sandwich Shop, his first ever words to you being, “Potato chips on a sandwich? That’s kinda weird,” and the conversation that proceeded from that somehow led you to watching a movie in the theater room at his house that same night. To now this— him spending the majority of his afternoon with you at the library, where you had been working for the past year and a half.

You wondered how long the two of you would keep the streak alive.

If it was anyone else you probably would have gotten sick of seeing them that many days in a row, but with Steve you weren’t. In fact, you looked forward to whenever you got to see him again. And maybe that feeling, the anticipation toward seeing this guy who you probably shouldn’t even be seeing this often anyway, should’ve worried you.

Whenever you thought about how easily the two of you were able to go from absolutely nothing to this— an unlikely friendship that somehow felt like you’d known each other so much longer than barely two weeks— it startled you.

Before, you had simply known of him; of course, you had, he was practically royalty at your high school. “King Steve,” a charmer, a perpetual flirter, somehow dating straight-A student Nancy Wheeler. It was the combination of those things that told you during that first conversation you had with him that you should stay away from him, but for some reason, you still said yes.

Maybe it was because the home theater he had been bragging about sounded way too tempting not to take up the offer. Or maybe it was because you liked being an idiot sometimes.

If it was the latter that was true then you still were an idiot because there you were ten days later still hanging out with him and not regretting it one bit.

“I need to bring you better games here,” Steve said. He was standing across from you on the other side of the counter.

“What’s wrong with Uno? Is it because you keep losing?” You jokingly asked, a small smile on your face as you started shuffling the deck. “Also, I’m technically working right now, so I shouldn’t even be playing any games with you.”

“There’s no one here except you and me,” He said and then gestured to the quietness that surrounded you both. “Actually, I think the only other person that’s been in here all day was that old lady who just wanted directions to the park.”

You loved your job at the library and you really didn’t mind how it was rarely busy, especially during the summer, because it meant that you could spend most of your shifts reading instead of helping someone find what they needed or reshelving books. Now the majority of your non-busy moments during your shift were spent with Steve.

“What are you doing tonight?” He asked as you began dealing the cards, because what else was there to do but play another round of Uno?

“My guess is hanging out with you,” You answered. “What’s happening?”

“Party,” He stated simply, and you realized that probably should’ve been your first guess. “Need us to be beer pong partners again.”

It had been last week, two days after you and Steve unspokenly decided that hanging out with one another would become a common occurrence, when he dragged you to a party; some too big thing at Matthew Lancaster’s lake house.

A beer pong table was set up, which was not all surprising for a high school party, and you suggested that you and Steve play and be on a team with one another. You were insanely good, practically making every shot, and Steve wasn’t too bad at playing either, which made your team pretty unstoppable. It was a random hidden talent of yours that you would only show off every once in a blue moon because you deliberately didn’t frequent parties.

“I’ve retired for the time being,” You told him. “I can’t show off my beer pong skills too often or it won’t be a cool talent anymore.”

He laughed a bit at that but still nodded. “Okay, what do you wanna do tonight instead?”

“Don’t let me stop you from going to the party.”

Steve shrugged and shook his head. “Probably wouldn’t be fun without you, anyway.”

His words confused you as much as they made you feel so happy. And you quickly pushed that “happy” feeling away because you knew just how fast it could lead to feeling other things; things that would make you look like the worst person in the world.

Once again, you wondered why you were doing this. Why were you allowing yourself to get close to him when you’d probably just look like an idiot in the end? And why had he wanted to talk to you in the first place? Those fleeting questions would hit you a lot over the past few days, but you’d quickly push them away because you didn’t want to think too hard about everything. However, this time you couldn’t force them away.

“Why?” You asked, breaking eye contact with him for the first time probably that entire afternoon. “Why… are we friends right now?”

If he was surprised or confused by the randomness of your question, he didn’t show it.

“I don’t know. I wanted to talk to you that day, so I did it,” He made the answer sound so simple. “I didn’t really expect it to turn into this friendship, but it’s nice finally having something that actually feels so easy.”

What about you and Nancy wasn’t easy?

You wanted to ask that but refrained from doing so. He probably didn’t mean her when he said that. You knew that the only reason why he was with you instead of her, and had been for the past ten days, was because she was out of town for the summer. That thought hurt a bit, knowing that you were essentially some sort of “consolation prize,” but it kept you from looking too much into things. You took everything Steve said that could be read as flirtatious with a grain of salt and forced yourself to see it as solely platonic.

And you’d rather it all be completely platonic anyway because you really liked the friendship you’d developed with him.

“You’re right. This does feel easy,” You ultimately responded, smiling at him because now that the unspoken lines were finally verbally drawn— the two of you were friends; nothing more, nothing less— you felt the tiniest bit better about it all. “But, I’m glad it does. I’m happy we’re friends.”

Steve smiled back at you. “Me too.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“you back beneath the sun. wishin’ i could write my name on it.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

July 28, 1984

The only reason why you allowed Steve to bring you to this party was because you were a sucker for a bonfire.

And the only reason why you were currently drunk off your ass was because you couldn’t say no to a game of hide and seek, especially a drinking version of the childish game, which Steve had suggested and you quickly agreed to.

There was something about this game that made you realize that maybe your entire friendship was a game; a game of who would break first. But, that was something to think about at a different time. Or actually not at all, because thinking further about that would probably only complicate things.

It was easy to pretend that there was nothing more to you and him when you both were sober. It was also so much easier to lie to yourself that you didn’t feel anything romantic toward him and that you didn’t see that maybe he actually felt the same way too.

There was a constant back and forth happening in your mind, with you continuously telling yourself that being friends with Steve wasn’t a bad idea, even though maybe it was because it was slowly making you want something more. Sometimes it felt as if it made sense to like him; it felt obvious. The way you could talk to each other about anything and everything mixed with how constantly you two wanted to spend time together made you fall in so deep so fast.

But, you couldn’t accept or think about any of that, and the reasons why were painfully obvious.

However, with the alcohol currently clouding your brain, that felt like a slightly different story.

“Sitting behind a tree? Not your best hiding spot.”

Hearing Steve’s voice right then should’ve made you feel at least the tiniest bit upset because it meant that you lost that round of hide and seek, but you drunkenly smiled up at him.

“I wanted to be original and we’ve been playing for so long I feel like we’ve done everything else at this point. But, that was at least two minutes, though, right?”

“It was actually barely thirty seconds.”

“Oh, wow,” You said with a laugh as you extended a hand up toward him so that he could help you up. You wobbled a bit before getting your balance and then you grabbed the red solo cup in Steve’s free hand to drink the rest of what was left in it as your punishment for losing; the exact contents of the drink were unknown, but it tasted fruity.

When you were done, you handed the cup back to him and then leaned back against the tree because it somehow felt nice and you weren’t bothered by the roughness of it touching the parts of your skin that the tank top you were wearing didn’t cover.

There were a ton of people at the infamous “Lover’s Lake” because of the party, but nobody had been paying attention to you and Steve running around like five-year-olds playing hide and seek and getting severely drunk in the process.

The lopsided grin taking over Steve’s features let you know that he was just as inebriated as you were, maybe even more so because he’d been drinking a bit before you two started the game.

“Maybe we should be done with hide and seek now.”

You gave him a nod. “That sounds like a good idea.”

Things became quiet for a few moments with the two of you solely staring at each other in the darkness and ignoring the loud rowdiness of everyone else who was only a few feet away. Steve closed a bit of the distance between you both and leaned in close to you; his gaze flickered down to your lips for a hint of a second before going right back to your eyes.

If this was any other moment, your mind would be running a million miles a minute, screaming at you to not allow the inevitable to happen. But, somehow, you were actually calm.

“We can’t do that, friend,” You told him, making your voice sound as serious as possible, but you couldn’t help but smile a bit.

“I know,” He responded but still shut the final space of distance between you both, bypassing your lips and kissing your cheek instead. “That’s okay, though, right?”

The reasonable side of you was obviously telling you to say “no,” but it was hard to make yourself care enough to listen to it. “I’ll allow it.”

The three words came out so quietly, but Steve heard you. He kissed your other cheek and then your forehead and then your nose before pulling away and smiling at you.

Before he could say anything, you did the same to him; kissing both of his cheeks, his forehead, and his nose, and then pulling back to lean against the tree again. That time it was your eyes that glanced down at his lips before going back to his eyes.

You were so close to doing it, and he almost begged you to, but then you were pushing off of the tree and asking him to turn around.

“Piggyback ride to the car, please?”

“We can’t drive right now,” He said as he leaned down a bit so you could hop onto his back.

You nodded even though he couldn’t see you. “I know, but I will die if I don’t sit down.”

The walk to your car should’ve taken less than a minute, but instead, it nearly took five because, of course, the two of you got a little lost and it took way too long to realize that the first car you had walked past was yours.

“God, we’re acting like such idiots right now,” You said, laughing as Steve let you down so you could get into the car.

He laughed too as he got in on the passenger side. “Yeah, definitely not our finest moment.”

You sighed in contentment when you leaned back against the seat, immediately finding comfort in it, which definitely said a lot about how drunk and exhausted you were because you never usually found your car as super comfortable.

You turned on your side to face Steve, and as if feeling your gaze on him, he turned to look at you as well. You silently admired each other. Sometimes it felt as if a thousand things were being said in the silences you two shared with one another, things that would probably always be left unsaid.

“I really like you,” He whispered suddenly and you realized that maybe not everything silently said would be left unspoken.

You let out a small breath before closing your eyes because it felt too hard to look at him right then. “I really like you too.”

“Please let me kiss you.”

It was difficult to describe exactly what his words managed to do to you, and you tried your hardest to disregard those feelings.

“We can’t.” You shook your head, eyes still shut. “It’ll ruin everything.”

“What if that’s okay?” He said, voice still quiet.

It could’ve been easy.

To finally do what you both had desperately wanted to do for weeks at this point, but had refused to admit. And doing it at this moment instead of any other time because, with the drunken states you both were in, none of this would be remembered. Which would also mean that it didn’t really happen, right?

Your eyes finally opened and you looked at him. “Neither of us is gonna remember this conversation in the morning.”

“You’re probably right.”

“And if you did, you’d regret saying any of this,” You said, and your words were met with silence from him. You couldn’t tell if that meant that they were the truth, or instead, quite far from it.

Even in your inebriated state, you were too scared to push him further and get an answer because you were unsure which response would be worse; “Yes, I’d regret it,” or “No, I wouldn’t regret it at all.”

Before he could potentially say a version of either of those responses, you began speaking again. “I’m really tired.”

You then pulled your eyes away from him and looked straight ahead at the people that were still partying around the fire. A part of you wanted to join them, but the other part of you just wanted to fall asleep.

“Me too,” Steve said and with how long he had been quiet, you were actually surprised to hear his voice right then.

Both of you fell asleep just like that for the time being, putting an end to a conversation that would not be talked about in the morning because just as you’d both assumed, it seemed as if it had been long forgotten.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“salt air, and the rust on your door. i never needed anything more. whispers of ‘are you sure?’ ‘never have i ever before.’”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

July 31, 1984

The sun had long ago set behind the trees, but you and Steve still had no plans to leave his pool anytime soon.

You swam close to him, your hands finding his shoulders and then pushing down to dunk him under the water. A laugh fell from your lips as you immediately started swimming away, but Steve’s hand quickly found your waist and pulled you back toward him.

“What was that for?” He asked, one arm still wrapped around you, causing your back to be firmly pressed against his chest, while his other hand pushed back his wet hair.

“For pushing me in the pool earlier,” You answered, only trying for a moment to wriggle out of his grasp but failing miserably so you stopped.

“That was hours ago.”

“Revenge is best when you don’t see it coming,” You said, smiling widely.

He laughed against your ear. “You’re evil.”

You attempted to pull away again but he was still holding on to you, so instead you maneuvered so you were simply facing him instead.

You were smiling up at him, and you assumed he’d match it with a smile of his own, but he didn’t. Instead, there was a certain look on his face that you couldn’t necessarily decipher. You almost asked him what was wrong, but he started speaking before you got the chance to.

“I remember the conversation we had in your car at the bonfire.”

You could feel your heart start to race a bit, not expecting things to take that turn. “Oh… You do?”

He nodded his head. “Do you?”

“I remember the whole thing,” You told him, and that was entirely true. You’d spent the past few days constantly thinking about that moment and running through every single thing that was said. You had also tried your hardest to push the memory away because it seemed as if Steve didn’t remember it.

“I don’t regret anything I said,” He told you and then a hand came up to cup your cheek. “I still really wanna kiss you.”

You were quiet for a moment, letting Steve’s words settle over you, before responding to him in a small voice. “Are you sure?”

Instead of verbally responding, he gave you the smallest of nods and closed the tiny bit of space between you both, dipping his head down and slotting his lips against yours.

All you could think at that moment was finally.

Finally, you were this close to one another.

Finally, you were kissing.

Finally, you were doing what you had wanted to do for so long.

The thing that both of you told each other and even convinced yourselves wasn’t going to happen, finally happened. And in a way, it sucked because neither of you felt bad about it, at least not bad enough to stop.

Your legs wrapped around his waist beneath the water and your arms came up to wrap around his neck, one hand finding its way into the hair at the nape of his neck.

You weren’t in the deepest part of the pool anymore so Steve was able to stand, but both of you were still almost completely submerged in the water. He walked you both over to one of the sides of the pool, pressing you back against it and deepening the kiss.

Nothing was said, and nothing needed to be said. In fact, you thought that if either of you said something, it would ruin the perfection that was that moment and harshly shove you both back to reality. A reality that told you that this was the farthest thing that should have been happening.

For the time being, with Steve against you and his lips finding that particularly sensitive part of your neck, you were happy living in this fantasy world. It was a dream that you didn’t want to wake up from, and you convinced yourself that it wouldn’t hurt too bad when you did finally have to wake up from it.

“We should…” You took a breath, biting back the moan that threatened to spill from your lips as Steve continued the assault on your neck. Your next word should’ve been “stop,” but stopping this was the absolute last thing you wanted to do. “We should go to your room.”

He finally, and sadly, pulled away from your neck and pressed a quick kiss against your lips. “That sounds like a great idea.”

You detached yourselves from one another just enough to step out of the pool and into his house, wet bodies leaving drops of water across the floor that weren’t the slightest bit cared about.

You couldn’t keep your hands off of each other.

After getting as close as you just had been, it was hard to go back to how it used to be; the friendliness and innocence that had surrounded the brief touches you two would usually share. Instead, your hand was intertwined with his as he led you up the stairs, and then his arms circled around you when you entered his room, cocooning you in the towel he’d grabbed from behind his door.

It was you that kissed him that second time.

You reached up to push his wet hair back and then leaned in, inwardly sighing in contentment. Both of his hands found your waist, causing the towel to fall and it was immediately long forgotten.

When you pulled away you took the smallest step back and simply looked at him, his pretty face and soft brown eyes that were full of nothing but adoration for you. You tried your hardest to find something within you that resembled regret or made you want to stop this, but you couldn’t. And you knew exactly what that said about you, but it was also difficult to force yourself to care about that either.

Steve eagerly brought you close to him again, which made you smile into the kiss he pulled you into. He slowly started leading you back toward his bed.

“Wait,” You said, detaching your lips from his and softly pushing him back a bit. “It would be really rude of me to lay on your bed with my bathing suit on.”

He slowly nodded and swallowed harshly as you removed your top first, letting that fall to the floor, and then going to your bottoms. “That’s very considerate of you.”

You only smiled at him and his sudden nervousness, which managed to wash away any and all of your own shyness at that moment.

His eyes met yours. “You’re so fucking pretty.”

“You’re not too bad yourself,” You whispered, reaching out to grab his hands and pull him close to you again. You were about to kiss him again, but it was then that you noticed the time on the clock that was hanging on the wall behind him. “Shit, shit.”

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion and a look of concern crossed his face. “What’s wrong?”

“The time,” You answered and then sighed as you started grabbing your bathing suit. “It’s 12:40, and if I’m not home by one, my mom will kill me and then you.”

“Your mom loves me too much to kill me,” Steve responded, grabbing a t-shirt for you to slip on too.

“Yeah, kinda weird how after only one meeting where you two barely even talked, she somehow likes you more than me now,” You said as you put on his shirt which kind of swallowed you whole but you loved it and already knew that you would never be giving it back to him.

You looked up at him and your next words came out quietly. “I’m sorry I have to ruin this right now.”

Steve shook his head at you. “It’s okay. Don’t be sorry.” Both of his hands found your hips again, squeezing softly. “We’ll pick up where we left off next time.”

You couldn’t help but smile at that. “Next time?”

“Mhm, next time,” He said, smiling back at you and nodding. “If you want there to be one?”

“I’d like that,” You responded and pressed a quick kiss against his lips.

Even as you headed back downstairs and Steve walked you to your car, kissing you for a few more minutes before you reluctantly drove away, your stomach had yet to fill with even a hint of regret or guilt.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“wanting was enough. for me, it was enough. to live for the hope of it all.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

August 12, 1984

The constant sound of something softly pinging against your window pulled your attention away from the book you were reading in your bed.

There was only one person that could've been throwing something at your window, but still, you were the tiniest bit surprised when you opened your curtains and saw Steve standing on your front lawn.

Even though seeing him was such a natural thing at this point, it made sense that you were at least a little surprised because no part of you felt secure with this “thing” you had going on with him, which was more than just a friendship but so much less than any type of actual relationship. You lived in the perpetual state that it would all abruptly end. And maybe that thought process came from you knowing that eventually, this would all have to come to an end; there weren’t that many days of summer left.

But then there was that tiny slither of hope that maybe it all wouldn’t have to end. You kept that thought buried deep down inside of you, though.

You lifted your window. “Throwing rocks at my window? That’s very rom-com of you.”

“Sometimes I like to be cheesy,” Steve said, smiling at you.

It was a sweet, adoring smile that you shouldn’t have been on the receiving end of; it was a smile that didn’t belong to you. It was so easy to see that, but it was nearly impossible to actually do something about it and let him go.

“Can I come up?” He asked. “I promise I’ll be quiet and your mom won’t hear me.”

“She’s gone for the weekend, actually,” You told him, smiling a bit. “I’ll be down in a second.”

When you opened the front door, he was quick to greet you with a kiss before pulling you in for a hug.

After that first kiss in his pool, there was an almost immediate shift that happened. An easy shift where you’d gone from constantly telling yourselves that everything was solely platonic to finally allowing yourselves to do every little thing that deep down you both had always wanted to do. With him now always greeting you with soft kisses, and you secretly spending so many nights in his bed because his parents were never home and most of the time it was easy to make up some sort of excuse to your mom.

Something else shifted too, though. It was a shift that neither of you spoke about because you never really wanted to acknowledge what exactly your friendship had transformed into and what it really meant. Not talking about any of it was a decision that you were unsure if it was completely yours or his because it was all so unspoken.

When you thought about it hard enough though, you could see that the decision was mutual, because on both sides it was easier to pretend that none of the outside things existed. In that fairytale, he didn’t have a girlfriend, he didn’t belong to anyone else. You were his and he was solely yours.

“Tell me about this thing that your parents forced you to go to tonight,” You said as Steve kicked off his shoes by the front door and the two of you started heading up the stairs. One of his hands was intertwined with yours and there was barely an inch of space between you both. It had become really hard not to be close to one another.

“It was this big event for my dad’s job, and they always drag me to stuff like that as a way to prove to his coworkers that they’re ‘good parents.’ It was very boring,” Steve responded with a small sigh and then gave your hand a light squeeze. “It would’ve been much less painful if you came.”

He sat down on the foot of your bed when the two of you walked into your room, and the oversized t-shirt you had on as your pajamas rode up a lot as you settled yourself in his lap, knees on either side of his thighs and hands resting on his shoulders. It was an un-innocent position that, for the time being, felt quite the opposite.

“Going to something like that is something a girlfriend would do, not…” That was the first time you’d even minorly referred to Nancy, and it felt both weird and wrong. It woke you up for a second and made you falter a bit in your next words, breaking Steve’s gaze. “Not a… friend.”

One of his hands found the side of your thigh, rubbing the skin softly and trying to pull you back into this moment with him. You could feel him reading you so easily and knowing where your mind was going, and he didn’t want you to go there, and neither did you.

You didn’t want this– you and him, him and you– to break just yet.

“Um, anyway, you didn’t tell me that it would be so formal,” You said, gesturing with your head to the suit he was wearing.

Your eyes met his again and you could see the relief wash over his face because you didn’t bring up the unspoken topic. Things shifted right back to normal. Well, the normal that you two created for yourselves.

“I feel kinda ridiculous, and I hate this bow tie,” He responded, hand continuing to rub your thigh. “I should’ve probably changed before I came here but I just really wanted to see you.”

You let his words further push away any thoughts of Nancy that lingered in your mind, thoughts that finally told you that what you were doing with him was wrong.

“Stop. You look good,” You told him, your fingers playing with the bow tie for a brief moment. “Like, really good.”

“Okay, now I’m really glad that I didn’t change, then.” He smiled before leaning in to kiss you.

You only deepened the kiss in response and focused on nothing but the feeling of his mouth on yours and his hands beginning to snake underneath your shirt.

He pulled back, maneuvering things so you were sitting at the foot of the bed and he was standing. The black suit jacket he had on was the first thing to fall on the floor. You slipped your t-shirt over your head and tossed it to the side before helping him unbutton the long sleeve white shirt he had on.

His hands found your bare waist and squeezed softly. “I’m so fucking happy I’m here right now.”

“Me too,” You responded and then sighed in contentment, eyes slipping shut for a brief moment, when you felt his thumb graze over your already hard nipple.

Sometimes, usually in moments like these, it felt as if it was your sole purpose to be with him; canceling your plans just in case he’d call or show up, and meeting solely at his place, or yours, or the library.

How deeply intertwined you felt with him let you know exactly how much it would hurt when this all came to its eventual end. But then you were hit with the thought that maybe you would deserve it because you put yourself in this situation.

Steve’s hand came up to gently stroke your cheek and pull you out of your thoughts. “What are you thinking about?”

Your gaze met his as you shook your head. “Nothing important.”

But, maybe it was the most important thing.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“i remember thinkin' i had you.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

August 23, 1984

You expected to see him that night.

So maybe him unexpectedly showing up to the library– which was now busy with a bunch of kids scrambling to do their summer reading assignments– was what should have told you that everything was about to go to shit.

“Hey,” You said to him and placed the book in your hand in its rightful place on the shelf and then did the same thing with the other one you were holding. “I didn’t think I’d see you until tonight.”

Steve was quiet for a few moments too long, which made you look at him, and your eyebrows furrowed in confusion when you saw the look on his face. It was hard to exactly decipher his expression because it looked as if he was experiencing a thousand different emotions at once.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, voice quiet.

“I got a call from Nancy,” He told you, and you nearly flinched at hearing him saying her name to you for the first time ever. “She said she’s coming back tonight.”

“Oh…” Was the first thing that fell from your lips. It was the word that perfectly encompassed your initial shock at that moment. “That’s, um– That’s really, uh…” You almost said “great,” because if the circumstances were different and if things were actually normal between you two, it probably would’ve been great that his girlfriend was coming back after being gone for almost two months. But, things were far from normal and the circumstances weren’t different at all, so you were at a loss for words.

Finally, after what felt like hours of silence, but what was really probably only seconds, you said something. “I really don’t know what to say to that, honestly.”

“I’m sorry,” He said softly and pulled his eyes away from you. He looked down and ran a nervous hand through his hair. “I guess we, uh, both know what that means.”

“Say it, Steve.” You muttered. You had to hear him say the words in order for it all to be real for you. You couldn’t take all of the unspoken, reading-between-the-lines bullshit.

He was quiet for an unbearable amount of time before he finally spoke. “We can’t see each other anymore.”

From the second he kissed you in his pool nearly a month ago, you knew that those words would ultimately come. Each happy day that passed with you tangled up in his bedsheets or cuddled up on his couch laughing about nothing was leading to this moment.

It had all been so inevitable, but it still hurt harder than you had expected it to. You quickly decided to pretend as if it didn’t, though.

You nodded at him. “Okay. Got it.”

“I’m sorry. This shouldn’t– I didn’t–”

“Don’t,” You quickly shook your head, not at all wanting to hear whatever pitying thing he would say to you at that moment. “Please don’t.”

You were suddenly glad that you were at work right then because you could distract yourself from thoughts of him and everything that had just ended with the current busyness of the library. You looked away from Steve and noticed a little girl struggling to grab a book that was high on a shelf.

“It’s really chaotic here right now, and I have to actually do work for the first time probably all summer, so yeah…” You forced a small smile and then walked away from him, ignoring the words he said to you that you barely heard and couldn’t make out.

Over the next two final hours of your shift, you’d silently accepted that that brief conversation would be the last time you talked to Steve Harrington. Although there were a thousand more things that probably could’ve been said, it was okay. That ending was okay. Or at least in the long run, it would be.

So it slightly startled you when you saw him in the parking lot, leaning against the side of his car. When he noticed you, he waved.

“Have you been here this whole time?” You asked, walking toward him, but leaving a wide space of distance between you two.

“Maybe, yeah.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know…”

For the first time probably ever, he confused you.

“I just— I wish things could be different,” He ultimately said, and hearing those words simultaneously made you feel happy while also making you feel so fucking upset.

“Things can be different,” You told him as you stepped toward him, the tiniest glimmer of hope inadvertently beginning to swirl in your stomach. “We could be together.”

Your hands found his, slowly intertwining them. His gaze met yours and you let the silent conversation play out. Your eyes pleading with him to not let go of what you two had, and him looking at you so softly while also battling whatever else was going on in his mind. After a few moments, he gave your hands a quick squeeze before he let go of them.

“I love Nancy.”

Not you. Those were the words he didn’t say, but you could read between those lines a little too easily.

“I love you” was the one thing you hadn’t said to one another, but you thought that you could feel how much he loved you through each soft touch, every longing look, every plea for you to stay in his bed for just a minute longer; one minute that always turned into at least five.

Apparently, you were wrong, though.

And now you knew for certain that you were wrong about every single thing that happened that summer.

Because you knew that you felt that way toward him. You loved him.

But he didn’t love you. He didn’t want to be with you.

He loved her.

His girlfriend— the only girl he was supposed to love.

You let the feeling of regret and guilt toward everything that happened this summer crash over you like a tsunami.

“I should’ve never done this,” You said, whispering that more to yourself, than to him.

“What?” He asked, unsure of what you’d just said.

“You love her.” You said as you moved away from him. “Go be with her.”

“I’m really sorry,” You heard him say as you walked toward your car.

You didn’t say anything in response to that. Mainly because there was nothing to say, but also because you refused to talk to him any longer. And quite frankly, you never wanted to talk to him again.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“so much for summer love and saying ‘us.’ ‘cause you weren't mine to lose.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

(read “betty” here!)

#steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington series #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington smut #stranger things fluff #stranger things smut #stranger things series #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic

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cmdrfupa · 2 months

Text

Mind over matter

Part 3 of unrequited Hiromi x Reader.

Pt.1 & Pt.2

The previous night proved to be better than anticipated.

Kento apologized a total of 4 times, and the slight sting on your inner thighs was proof of it. But you were his again. No more dedicating himself to late nights in the office or choosing friends' outings over you. You were his partner, and he would do right by you. Cloud 9.

The morning was going to be as expected. Three legal interviews were scheduled at the top of your day before you spent the remainder on a call, then analyzing new data for a current trial. Knowing you'd be stuck at your desk, Kento bought you a bento and thermos set to be more efficient.

Seeing Hiromi in his office on the way to yours, you stopped to greet him. "Morning Higuruma! Good start to the day so far?"

Looking off the side of his monitor, his eyes focused on you as the corner of his mouth lifted into a smile.

"Good morning to you. So far, a decent day. Let's hope it stays that way."

"With summer interns on week 3, we can only hope." The gentle laugh that left your mouth only filled his stomach with butterflies. "Well, let me get to it!"

"See you around."

"Don't work too hard! We'll need powerhouse Higuruma for that conference call." You bounced as he observed your walk to your office.

"Maybe she wanted to talk later? It is only 9 in the morning. And I did say whenever you're free."

His thoughts swirled as he gazed at the doorway where you had stood. He shook his head, trying to dispel the tumult of emotions, and returned to his emails.

The late afternoon rolled around too quickly for Hiromi, and the 3-hour conference call was the main culprit. He felt he hadn't done much and dreaded the research files waiting on his desk. Knowing his assistant was leaving soon, he made his second cup of tea in the office kitchen to stretch his legs. The quiet chatters among his peers filled the silence as he waited for the kettle to ding. But the mentioning of your name grabbed his attention first.

"It's the 2nd balloon bouquet he's sent her now. Last time, it was the cookies and flowers," one assistant spoke hushedly.

"Oh, he's going all out. I mean, Kento is already hot. The surprise gifts are just a bonus."

"On looks alone, giving him another chance is so worth it."

The butterflies he had felt earlier turned to heavy stones in the pit of his stomach. You had chosen your ex. The feeling of what he wanted to call betrayal was overwhelming.

If he could have a mug full of rum to help him forget the hideous balloon bouquet left at the front desk for you, Hiromi would fill it to the brim. Grape oolong tea would have to do for now.

"I don't know, Higuruma. It's possible you did nothing wrong, and she wanted to get back with her ex."

"It has to be something I did. Was it the approach? Possibly came on too passively?"

Kusakabe unwrapped another hard candy and threw it into his mouth before turning to look at you and Kento in the reception area. The office staff stared in astonishment at Kento's display of affection. He arrived a few minutes after the courier delivered the bouquet, and the women in the office immediately gathered around, drawn in by his smooth voice asking for you. Hiromi watched from his office, feeling unbearable tension.

"Probably too passive. Should've been more bold."

"Atsuya, please. I was as bold as I could've been. I told her how I felt just on a whim. There was no planning. What else did I need to do?" Shove my tongue down her throat?"

"I mean... Probably would've worked." Kusakabe shrugged.

"But that doesn't make sense."

"Women don't make sense, just like we don't. Lay it to rest, alright? She's taken. You'll live and move on."

The weight of loss settled heavily on Hiromi's shoulders as he watched you talk, hand in hand with your ex, Kento. Jealousy bubbled up inside him despite his efforts to keep it at bay.

When he thought it couldn't get any worse, you made eye contact with him. "Damn it, they're coming to my office," Hiromi muttered under his breath. Your shameless display of affection only added fuel to the fire as you waltzed into his office.

"Kusakabe, Higuruma! You remember my boyfriend Nanami Kento?" you announced with a smile. Kusakabe stood up, reaching out his hand.

"Guy from last year's holiday party that got completely smashed off the Moscow mules, right?" Kento's jaw clenched as he shook Kusakabe's hand.

"Didn't think anyone would remember that."

"Hard to forget a guy who tried kissing Yaga under the mistletoe."

"Twice. Tried twice," Hiromi added, shaking Kento's hand more firmly than he shook Kusakabe's. "Good to see you, Nanami."

Your face flushed with embarrassment as you watched Kento struggle to maintain his composure while recollecting the unfortunate holiday work party incident.

"Do you guys have any plans for this weekend?" Kento's fingers relaxed as you chimed in. "I'm having a little backyard party! Kento bought this new Konro grill, and I want to test it out. You should both come!"

Hiromi was the only person who noticed Kento's glare, which wasn't exactly inviting. Despite Kusakabe's lighthearted conversation about the special marinade he uses for his Yakitori, Hiromi's internal turmoil was evident as he struggled to maintain a casual tone, managing to say, "Sounds fun."

"If you have plans, don't try to shift them on our behalf." Kento chimed in, snaking one arm around your waist and bringing you closer. "Last-minute plans are always the worst, I understand."

"We really wouldn't want to impose-"

"Do you guys prefer red or white wine? I have a bottle I've been wanting to open, and I think a backyard party celebrating friendship and whatever you two got going on is the perfect event!" Kusakabe's uncharacteristic smile made Hiromi wince. What the hell was he doing?

Two hours—two hours to land on a short-sleeved off-white polo, navy blue chinos, and low-profile tennis shoes. His dark, stringy hair was precisely slicked back, only leaving a few strands to fall onto his forehead. "Rest. We need to get more rest." he lightly dragged his thumbs across the slight bags under his brown eyes before grabbing his wallet.

He called you that morning, asking what he could bring to complement the menu best. "Whatever your heart desires!" Your chipper tone gave him an unfortunate amount of serotonin.

After texting Atsuya to let him know he was en route, Hiromi went to your now-shared home.

Perfectly manicured lawn, Hiromi slowly walked to the front door as he admired the lush grass and oddly shaped hedges that lined the front windows. Realizing the ring doorbell was active, he gave it a wave with his free hand.

"Hi. It's Higuruma."

"I'll be right there," a familiar male voice broadcasts in response from the little box.

There he stood, his signature cruciferous crunch slaw and a bottle of gin for Kento in hand, awaiting his own personal hell that merely sat on the other side of the door.

#higuruma hiromi #jujutsu kaisen #hiromi x you #hiromi higuruma x reader #hiromi jjk #hiromi x reader #unrequited love #jjk hiromi #lu.logs

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thesconesyard · 2 months

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Squeaking in under the wire tonight! (Didn’t help my phone died ten minutes ago lol!

Underneath the Western Sky

2. Greener Pastures

Montgomery Scott was happier than he had been in years.

Even if his brother had moved away from the ranch and into town, he was still closer than all the years they had spent apart when Scotty had left Scotland. He could saddle up a horse and go see Robbie in less than an hour. It had been hard to leave Scotland and Robbie behind, but he had done it to protect his brother’s life.

What Leonard had done, secretly writing to Robbie, and bringing the brothers back together, Scotty wasn’t sure he could ever fully thank him.

And wasn’t that just part of his happiness as well; a partner who treated him so well and loved him so deeply.

He whistled as he crossed the yard from the barn. Keenser had asked for help in the garden that morning. Some of the plants needed thinning and others were ready to pick. With his bad leg Keenser couldn’t do as many of the ground level tasks.

“Hello Keens!” Scotty called as he entered the garden.

The shorter man looked up and nodded. He wasn’t much of a talker, but Scotty never saw that as an issue. He knew Keenser enjoyed his chatter and he enjoyed Keenser’s quietness in turn.

“Where are we starting?” Scotty asked as he stopped next to him.

“Peas.”

“I’ll go high, ye’ll go low?” Scotty chuckled.

Keenser smiled and pointed at a basket nearby. Scotty grabbed it up and set it between them.

“Doing alright?” Keenser asked as they worked.

“Yes,” Scotty nodded emphatically. “Knowing Robbie is right there, where I can go see him when I want to…” He let out a content sigh. “It’s like a whole new world again.”

Keenser nodded as he dropped peas into the basket. Scotty dropped in a few as well, then stopped to open a pod.

“We taking some into the lasses?” he asked, popping one of the peas in his mouth.

“Yep.”

“Ooo, they’re just right,” Scotty said after he finished chewing. “Did ye try one?”

“Nope.”

Scotty laughed. “Want to get them picked, not eat them all, eh?”

Keenser grinned at him, then turned back to picking.

The afternoon passed pleasantly as they filled the basket with peas, then moved on to the carrots. Keenser’s birds roamed around them as they worked. Scotty was amused as the birds passed Keenser and all seemed to bump his good leg in greeting. One small bird in particular, Keenser picked up and let sit on his shoulder for a few minutes.

“You fellas got some greens ready for us?” Christine came into the garden behind them.

“Aye, we do,” Scotty answered with a smile. “Would ye like a hand carrying them in?”

“Oh I’ve got it Scotty, thank you.”

“Cooking them?” Keenser asked, looking over at Christine.

“Some of them,” she replied. “But I’ll leave some uncooked the way you like.”

Keenser smiled and nodded his thanks. Christine hefted the basket onto her hip and disappeared towards the house.

“Think we deserve a break,” Scotty told Keenser.

“Yep.”

Scotty gathered their few tools and Keenser led the way towards the front of the house. They’d clean up and sit on the porch until dinner. The shade would be cool and Scotty knew the others would slowly join them to get out of the heat.

And after dinner, as the sunset and the temperature cooled he and Leonard could go walk up along the creek and enjoy each other’s company. Yes, life was turning out pretty well for Montgomery Scott.

#star trek #montgomery scott #keenser #yeehawgust 2024 #greener pastures #Scotty’s feeling happy #so much going on today barely time to write

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watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees · 8 months

Text

My other half

masterlist

TW: implied kidnapping, captivity, implied domestic violence, starvation, shock collar use, manipulation, lady whump

There was a clumsy knock at the door. When Claire’s mom opened it, she found Lucas standing on the porch, trying to adjust a bouquet of roses. He was Claire’s partner of a few years, fiancé of a couple of months. It wasn’t out of the ordinary that he showed up at their doorstep, when Claire spent the weekend home, to surprise her.

“-evening Mrs. Denning!” he smiled following a passing look of confusion as to why she was the one opening the door “I thought I’d drop this off”

“Luke, what a surprise! Is Claire coming home later then?” she asked, reaching for the flowers.

“I don’t know, I haven’t talked to her today, I just wanted to surprise her, it’s really hard on her that she can’t help out with all the renovations”

“All that stress! She really shouldn’t take on this in her state” she took a step back “Come on in, you can wait for her inside”

“Did she say when she’s gonna be back?” Luke asked as he stepped over the threshold into the hallway.

“No, last week we agreed you two would come over this afternoon together, with all her things” he could barely hear the end of the sentence, because his soon-to-be mother-in-law was already in the kitchen, presumably continuing with where she left off doing the dishes.

“Last week? Didn’t she say anything before she left today?” he yelled as he took off his shoes.

“What?” He sighed and rolled his eyes.

“Didn’t she say anything today?” he repeated.

“What do you mean?” she looked up at him, just as confused.

“Before she left today?” he tried again.

“Left? She wasn’t here” Luke frowned.

“She came over yesterday afternoon. Didn’t she?” They stared at each other for a long moment. Claire wasn’t at the new place with Luke yesterday. She wasn’t at home either.

Luke put the flowers down on the kitchen counter and grabbed his phone from his pocket to start calling Claire.

“She’s not picking up” he stared at his phone as it went to voicemail. He dialled again. Claire wasn’t in the best shape the past few weeks. She had violent nightmares almost every night, sometimes she was barely able to tell reality from dream. Once she fell down the stairs at their new place, almost breaking her arm, but getting away with a bunch of large bruises. Noone knew what set all this off, that’s why she was advised to move back in with her parents, because they could care for her better than Luke, who beyond his studies at the medical college worked part time at an electronics store.

Or at least she was supposed to move back.

“I’ll try to call as well” Neither of them moved from the kitchen for a good long while, leaving calling and calling, leaving voicemails after one another. When Claire’s dad got home from work, he joined as well “I’ll call her therapist” he suggested. Luke called around her friends, although she hasn’t spent much time with them lately, and he had a feeling suggesting Claire isn’t with her friends, he had to try.

“We have to call the police” her mom whispered finally, her face white as a ghost. Luke and his father-in-law agreed.

The dispatcher picked up on the fourth ring, and asked what they can help with. After a brief introduction to the situation, they advised the family to come to the station to provide their statements so they can report her missing.

The first time it was said out loud, that Claire is missing, it made no sense to any of them. As days went on, its reality set in. She was nowhere to be found.

...

The dingy old car pulled up to the house with unmistakable noise. He stepped out, and slammed the door in, with no care in the world. He was in the middle of the forest, at his great aunt’s property. No civilization in any direction for miles.

It was rather cold inside, as he opened the door he made a mental note to bring some firewood inside later. He hung his jacket next to the door and headed inside. Took a quick glance at the empty living room and turned right, fumbling a bit with his keys he opened the door to the basement.

“How are you doing, sweetheart?” he addressed the girl lying in the middle of the room. She shuddered as she heard his voice, but didn’t seem to have enough energy to answer or move.

He walked downstairs, and crouched down next to her, checking on the chains keeping her from moving away from the middle of the room where a hook was installed in the cement.

He petted her head gently, trying to coax some kind of reaction out of her.

She was lying on the concrete floor for days now without food or sleep. There was a shock collar on her neck that went off periodically keeping her up. She was at the point, where she'd seen more things that didn't belong there than she perceived reality.

"Hey, I asked something" he laughed softly, but stopped petting her head to reach into his pocket for the remote to the collar. She twitched in her whole body, when she breathed in to try to answer, granted she already forgot the question.

"Can you tell me who you are?" His voice asked from above her. Something changed in it, but she couldn't make out what, she barely understood the words.

"I-i-i, don-know wha-what-sh happening" she stuttered barely audibly.

"You're not going to leave now, will you, darling?" he chuckled and there was something terrifying about just how true it was.

"I, uhm, I'm..." She did not remember. All she knew was the cold concrete under her body and the cold blue eyes watching her like a hawk.

“That’s alright, love” Luke hushed, almost proud of her. He unlocked the chains around her limbs and lifted her up.

She was laid on something soft, something that smelled familiar. It was good. She heard a click and her collar was lifted from her neck, leaving the skin vulnerable under it.

"You can rest now, sweetheart” he cooed into her ear softly "You will get something to eat tomorrow too" And she finally closed her eyes, immediately falling asleep.

He just watched her. She was so pure, sleeping on the bed buried under the sheets. She seemed dangerously fragile and way too thin, but she would be perfect now. He was honestly intrigued to know how much she'll remember, when he let her recover, just for a while. He couldn't take her back to their place again, which he did a few times before, when he brought her here. She was officially missing. He was leading search groups every evening he could manage, while also spending time with her parents, he was her fiancé after all.

#whump #danse macabre original story #oc whump #tw manipulation #tw kidnapping #tw implied abuse #tw captivity #tw shock collar #tw starvation #lady whump

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honest-moth-of-silver-grove · 11 months

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Thank you so much for opening up matchups, I always love seeing my results! As for myself, I’m an asexual girl who’s somewhere on the aromantic spectrum. I adore history, reading, tea, writing, ice skating, art and sewing!

I’m pretty introverted and can get quickly drained being in large social groups or gatherings so I tend to prefer small hangouts or just time spent with one individual. When I really click with a person though I don’t find myself drained and can get pretty touchy and talkative! I have ocd, some past trauma and anxiety issues so if I did have a partner I would hope that they would be open to those parts of me and willing to be there for me when dealing with anything related to that. (And if they had that I’d do anything to help them work through it or just to help them feel comfortable and safe!)

I’m pretty easy going and relaxed for the most part although I am told I can be a bit blunt and that it looks like I’m always glaring (I’m not). I’m pretty upfront in setting boundaries and letting people know what I am comfortable with or not. While I do enjoy easygoing and light conversations, I also appreciate deep and intellectually stimulating discussions (or even just taking the piss out of someone).

Honestly as long as someone is open to engaging with my interests, is there for me both physically (not sex) and emotionally, and accepts me, then I’d be content! I’d be happy with that person no matter what (aka gender and orientation aren’t factors in whether I would like someone or not) although I would hope they are a more clean and tidy person or at least can learn to be one.

A/N: For you @amefuyuu, I’m thinking your best Baldur’s Gate 3 match would be Gale!

☸ Gale is the right person for you! There’s been some discussion of the lack of ace representation in Baldur’s Gate, however, I read a very interesting Twitter thread that suggested that the characters of Gale and Asatrion could be interpreted as asexual if you squint. Astarion because he’s endured so much trauma, and in Gale’s case because his character makes a point to be clear that what he wants isn’t “just sex”, and that love and romance for him is something much deeper, much more spiritual than anything we could understand in just the physical realm. I’m not sure Larian would label Gale as asexual outright; instead, I believe it’s meant to be up for your interpretation. In this case, I see Gale as greysexual/demisexual. For him, sex is only wanted or a positive thing if he's developed a true romantic connection first. That being said, I think he’d also truly value a mostly aromantic companion, as long as your relationship is based on mutual respect/admiration and communication. He’s been holed up in that tower of his in Waterdeep for so long, so alone. He needs a companion he can't open up to. A companion he can enjoy quiet studying with. Someone who won't judge him too harshly for the mistakes of his past; someone who can see past his shortcomings into the kind of man he could be. And in return, I’d imagine he’d do the same.

Gale loves history! He’s a bit of a history buff himself. Sure, most of it pertains to the history of magic or The Weave, but he’s also quite knowledgeable about the history of Waterdeep. He’d love exchanging knowledge with you- you tell him what you know of your world and he’ll tell you what he knows of his. And reading, oh my goodness! The man practically has his own private library back home with hundreds of tomes dedicated to all sorts of subjects. And although he may initially be hesitant to admit it, he has an entire section dedicated to nonfiction.

Gale would love nothing more than to spend a beautiful sunny afternoon with you outside his home in Waterdeep, picnicking and having tea while you each sit in each other’s company, reading your respective favorite books. When the weather turns colder, he’d love to go ice skating with you. Well, he’d like to watch you ice skate, while he keeps his feet firmly planted on the ground beyond the rink. He’s not the smoothest of people. But that doesn’t mean he won’t go above and beyond to make it happen for you! Even conjuring an ice rink himself with a spell if he has to. If it really makes you that happy, then it’s worth it to him.

Gale may not be the finest connoisseur of art, but he does enjoy showing off the things you create. And he’s very happy someone between the two of you knows how to sew. It’s also so bothersome to rip a hole in your clothes after an adventure or battle and need to go all the way to a tailor to get them fixed.

Gale prefers smaller crowds as well. And he comes with his fair share of trauma- being raised by a single mother, his fallout from his unbalanced relationship with Mystra, to being infected with a Mind-Flayer parasite. He can be rather anxious himself, which is why he tends to talk in circles sometimes. He’s not always trying to be elusive, it’s just that it can be hard openly admitting your feelings when you don't know if the audience is right. He won’t ever judge you for the things you deal with, be it your anxiety or OCD. He knows he has his fair share of quirks and absolute ‘no-nos’ that most partners would find a bit annoying. He’s extremely grateful for how patient you are with him. He understands, even more so with you by his side, that healthy relationships are give and take across the board. Everyone has their moments. Everyone takes their turn. And that’s alright. It just means you’re human. (Or you know, whatever humanoid Faerun creature you happen to be!)

Typically easygoing himself, Gale is happy you’re not overly boisterous like Karlach. He too prefers more stimulating conversations. (He also secretly enjoys ribbing those he’s closer to, and he’s a fairly big fan of puns. But it might take a while for him to reveal those little fun facts to you.)

And while his workspace might be a bit messy, he’s more tidy than not. Granted, things may get strewn about here and there after a night of spell research, but he makes a point to eventually put things back where they came from. He learned this the hard way when he left a book out on his bed only to come back to it to find Tera sleeping soundly on its open pages. He was forced to wait for hours to finish his spell! All because he didn’t want to wake her by retrieving the book. (He has since done what he can to ‘tressym proof’ his home lol.)

Honestly, Gale doesn’t mind not having sex. He’s used to it. He just really misses the other kinds of physical affection: hugs, pats on the back or shoulder. Touch can be so healing and grounding, but it’s hard to get any of that when you isolate yourself in a tower for years. He’s very pleased you care enough about him to give him that much.

He thinks himself so blessed to have you in his life.

#baldurs gate imagine #baldurs gate x reader #baldurs gate 3 x reader #bg3 imagine #bg3 x reader #baldurs gate matchups #bg3 matchups #bg3 #matchups

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virtue-and-beneviolence · 2 years

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Can you match your mutuals with CSM characters and troupes? Pretty please 🥺

Thanks for the game <3 !!! I wanna apologize upfront bc this is a very very short one. I don't remember CSM super well apparently so i apologize for how few of yall are included here. This was what I could manage after tumblr fucked up my draft and if i dont post it tonight it'll rot in my drafts forever. Idk man send me a part two and ask for a different set and we'll see what we can do (probably reusing characters tho)

@feitania and Kishibe - roommates

Kishibe doesn't need a roommate and he reminds you of that at least 12 times a week but he wouldn't dream of having you leave. He's so much more sentimental than it seems. Who would've thought that stone cold bastard had such a big soft heart? He lets you decorate any room you like for the most part and he'd be lying if he said he didn't appreciate the warmth that comes with another life in his home. You two don't need to fill all the space with chatter but after a while, you do get him to open up a bit and you learn a lot from the man's life. He learns a lot about yours too. Idk, it's just the right amount of cozy.

@the-travelling-witch X Aki - cafe au

Baker!Aki is dying for your attention after the fist time you visit his shop. It was dead on a weekday afternoon. He gave you a deal on some cookies, insisting it was the end of the day, that they'd go to waste. Since then he's tried to catch your eye and your fancy through some new desserts, pastel macarons, and cute little pastries, and delicate fruit tarts. He listens to you talk when you bring some friends to study there. He's not trying to be weird, but he hears you're not from Japan and starts making German treats he think maybe a taste of home could be nice or well he's ... he's trying okay? He thanks the gods the day you ask him why the menu always changes because you finally give him your number with a promise to teach him how to make some real bread.

@sleepy3 and Beam - childhood best friends

Yall have been inseparable for the last two decades. You spent your youth together. You shared nearly all your elementary and middle school classes together and and never struggled to make time for one another. You're the only one who can calm Beam down, you're his favorite cuddle buddy, annnnd the only reason he probably graduated because got he's adorable and all but his attention span is not it! For his part, he gives you energy and hypes you up all the time. He even hypes you up for that date he doesn't particularly like that you're going on tonight because he doesn't think the guy is good enough for you. But he's still gonna help you pick an outfit and tell you how great you look because he's honest and he cares about you and well, he trusts you to make smart decisions.

@drakenlvr X violence fiend - fake dating

He doesn't seem all that interesting at first and I don't blame you. There's not much to talk about since you finished that one project together. You know, the one you two did all the work for while your asshat classmates sat with their thumbs in their asses? All you really knew about galgali was that he was maybe a bit of a pushover sometimes but he was definitely nice. When he came up to you in the dining hall and asked for you to go to a work event with him as his partner just once god i know its weird but please- you figured, fuck it. There are worse ways to spend a Friday evening than hanging around an acquaintance and getting free food and drinks. Turns out he has a crazy history, a crazier job, and a shockingly cute streak.

@violettierre x Power - enemies to friends to business owners lmao

Look I'm not gonna get into the gory details about that relationship you just got out of, okay? It was messy and not at all your fault, but isn't it crazy how all it took was a mutual enemy (the ex in question) to become thicker than thieves with Power? I can just see you and Power skipping down the street and dancing and being chaotic. Plus there's just nothing like it when Power is soft for you. Y'all end up roommates and maybe go in halfsies on a cat cafe for the broken hearted to find their new halves.

#im so sorry friends #more of you should be here #i will try harder next time #maybe i'll give these guys a break and appreciate some more moots #idk im a mess lmao #someone tell me to eat dinnner #or something #hush virtue #but really anon if you're a moot and you;re not here ill cry send another and iwill do it again

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errrrgreatperhaps · 1 year

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God’s Faithfulness Displayed

These past few weeks have been quite a whirlwind. It conjured up lots of emotions I thought I had guarded myself against but somehow it slowly maneuvered its way into my life. More importantly, this whole episode made me marvel at God’s faithfulness over and over again.

It all started out when G confessed to me a month ago. That was the second time he put himself out there and I thought why not give him a chance and give myself a chance to consider the potential of us. Later did I know there were so many things we had to work through. The main reasons why I was very hesitant about dating him was because of the fact that he can’t lead me in Christ and I cannot be super sure of his relationship with God due to his absence from the church community/ bible reading/ praying for over 3 years.

On my birthday, 16th August. It was a Sunday and the plan was to go to the newly opened cat cafe at rail mall with my church mates (yonk, astrid, heather & aden) before popping in for Sunday service afterwards. The day started out with a lovely Macky D breakfast that Alicia ordered and then I had bible study with Phoebe. I haven’t read with her for about a month now and there are many things I had to update her about my life. In addition, she is my CGL and I see the value of being accountable to one another and I really want to share/ consult her regarding my feelings for G. Honestly, I already knew what she was going to say but at the same time, I had an inclination to hear it from her in person. After my conversation with her, I felt very confused and a sense of helplessness overcame me. I immediately texted G because I knew I had to speak to him about all of it. He assured me that he is opened for chatting and that really comforted me for the time being so I could sort out my day before spilling the beans. I realised I was fighting the tension of wanting to obey the Lord and wanting to fulfil the worldly desires of the heart. However, at the end of the day, I feel that it was what I needed to hear....I really respect both R&P and knowing how wise they are in approaching a God glorifying life, so thank Go I can sort out their wisdom/ assurance in this matter. P is absolutely right that if I love G as a brother-in-christ, then his salvation should be more important than tis short term desire of wanting to be in a relationship.

I had the most marvellous day. Despite the initial hiccup at the cat cafe which has already been fully booked, we ended up at Chow Cute cafe (credits to Astrid because her cousin works there). We spent the whole afternoon there in the outdoor cafe with all the different mix of chow chows and I must say, it was rather therapeutic. I got to see my favourite Brownie (he is a mixed of chow chow and german shepherd)! He reminds me of Woofie very much and he has such an endearing temperament, it’s hard not to adore him. We even had our regular zoom service together and making that a part of my birthday was something I truly value. My highlight of this whole trip was when we drove back to the West and everyone was just singing worship songs in the car while we marvelled at the beauty of the setting sun. I couldn’t help but feel God showing off His wonderful creation and my heart was filled with His praises. I could really sense His presence and see His faithfulness that is as constant as the rising and setting sun. In those moments, I teared up quite a bit because I was immensely filled with so much unexplainable joy. To internalised the truth that God is love. My brothers and sisters in christ are so loved and love each other with Christ’s love. Why then soul do you seek the love from a partner? God has given me these friends that love me with Christ’s love, that should be enough?

After dinner, Yonk sent me home and before I got out of his car, I was prompted to share with him my troubles. The talk I had with P really burdened my heart and I don’t think I can resolve it alone. Praise God for sending the right person at the right time. After sharing with him, I broke down from the guilt of feeling like an awful person who said yes to G the night before and having second thoughts the very next day...I want to call it off but I did not want to hurt him. I’ve gotten his hopes up and now I have to let him down. What a mistake! A costly mistake because it will hurt someone I care for so much. I felt pretty shitty. That night was also the first time I saw how emotional or gentle Yonk could be. He was so patient in dealing with me and he prayed for us before and after this whole fuss. It was absolutely humbling to be seeking God’s help first and foremost in this desperate situation.

After Yonk left, I knew I had to get through this or not I will not be able to sleep, so I called him up and asked to meet. It was such a relief to know that he felt the same about the situation. He knew immediately that he rushing into things the night before when he asked for an answer. He was very apologetic about it and we had the longest talk that lasted till 4 in the morning. In conclusion, we have decided that we shall not be dating till he has place God at the center of his life (i.e, fruitful prayer life, settled down in The Crossing, serving in ministry) and he is willing to wait on God’s timing for us. This really showed his maturity in handling our hearts and how serious he is about building his relationship first with Jesus. Both of us agreed that we got a sense of peace in this decision. It’s not because we are certain of what’s to come in the months or years ahead, if we ever end up together or not but to know that what we did pleases God, that in and of itself is good enough.

It feels like everything that happened in the day led up to this point...I had the courage to fight sin, to put on the armour of God and make Him shine in my weakness. My faithful Lord brought me through this and I can rest in knowing that I am walking in His will for me in my life!

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rcksmith · 4 years

Text

Not you — Five Hargreeves

Requests: “Five Hargreeves x fem!reader, Fluff prompts 9, 52 and 53, please? (You can do this whenever you feel like it) Five and Y/n are both hit by one of Hazel and Cha-Cha’s bullets in the Gimbel Brothers store and they immediately go to the academy (Five wants Y/n treated as soon as possible.) after they’re fine, the siblings start to question them on Five’s protectiveness over Y/n”

“Hii could I request 4 & 23 off the fluff prompts for Five pls ty 😌✨”

Fluff prompts:

4. “Sweetheart, you’re my entire world”

9. “So you're saying that girl is your girlfriend?!" "No, that girl is my wife!”

23. “i’ve dreamt about this.”

52. "Help her first."

53. “There are no limits when it comes to you. I’ll do anything to keep you safe.”

A/N: We not tolerate any pedophilia here !!

I write about Five with their 20s. I write the same about the characters of Harry Potter.

I hope you guys like💖I decided to compile these two requests, since they were the same energy and they prompts connect to a central plot. I added all the elements that were asked for individually, and made sure that all ideas were respected and written down. Good reading.

I used here some fragments of the central plot of Five, but, guys, keep in mind that he is 20 years old, and that when he comes back to 2019 Five does not make a mistake in the calculations. I changed the location of the fight too, but a really I hope you, Anon # 1, don't mind.

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

Couple: Five Hargreeves / Fem! Reader.

Warnings: blood, mention of death, swearing, fluff too.

— — — — —

You remembered perfectly when you met Five Hargreeves, the commission's golden ball, The Handler's award-winning shamrock. If you closed your eyes, even after years, you could still smell the male cologne wafting in the air, and you could relive the same feeling in the pit of your stomach that you had when he looked at you with those obsedian eyes.

Five Hargreeves was gorgeous. Absurdly gorgeous. But absurdly arrogant, boastful, presumptuous and completely absent of any delicacy in relation to empathy and kindness. He was the type who would open the door for you to enter first, but who would be the first to make fun of your erroneous reasoning.

And that was why, at the time, when you were assigned to be his partner, you lived in conflict with what you really felt. It was a mixture of tantrum and physical attraction.

But unlike all the people around Five, when he spit fire at you with all the anger at his difficult temper, you didn't run. In fact, when it exploded the first time in front of you, you crossed your arms, arched an eyebrow and looked at him with boredom.

“Have you finished your show yet?” You said, as if you didn't care, leaning against the hood of the car while Five screamed through the 7 winds “Stop to imply with everything.”

Five had been your partner for a few months now and it became clearer each day that the irritation was mutual. He made it perfectly clear that you pissed him off until his last hair.

But, unlike you, it was for another reason.

Shit, you were a fucking goddess! Your beauty was notorious, but that was not all that caught his attention. You were smart, canny, brave, Five never saw you in fear of any situation or shaken by any scene of blood. You knew your goals and went after them. It was strong, decisive, and, goddamn, he loved it. You had a fist, you were firm, and you always made it very clear that you were no helpless maiden.

It felt like you had gotten out of his imagination, from the daydreams in which Five rambled about what kind of woman he admired. And, hell, you came with the full package. It was a combination of overwhelming beauty, intelligence, dexterity, and he never thought that someone like that could be real.

But of course you were. And now Five was completely irritated because you were real, and not just another his dream and daydream in which a sublime woman starred.

“To Imply?” Five turned to you, eyes on fire “To Imply?!”

“Like a 2-year-old who didn't take his afternoon nap. It's not the end of time, it doesn't have to be childish.”

Now Five felt himself ignite. He was a dry, rough fire and you were gasoline, igniting everything saw ahead.

Was that damn woman calling he a child?! You?! Just you, the person whose Five wanted to tie the bed and do all kinds of sinful things.

Oh hell no!

Five came forward, furious, like an angry god, his coal eyes never leaving your direction.

“Childish, isn't it?” He snarled “I'm going to show you the childish!”

Five held your face tightly in his hands and pressed your lips to his. Fierce, needy, set on fire, lost in half sentences of feelings about you. He slid his hands to the back of your neck, closing his fingers in your hair and invading your mouth with his tongue, letting you taste the caffeine, danger and lust he had.

You sighed, or Five, or both. You held him as close as he was, with the two of you being on the same mission: to conquer, to take, to possess. But Five had an extraordinary intensity, a magnitude that managed to win you

Then your touch became more docile, your kiss became submissive and you were surrendered. When Five walked away, not with his body, he still held you against him, but with his head, enough to look you in the eye, you sighed.

“I’ve dreamt about this.” You gave up your game, because you couldn't pretend anymore, and Five responded by kissing you again, this time tasting your whole mouth.

After that day, Five and you never came apart. You two were like a dynamic duo, crime partners in the morning and intense lovers at night.

But Five spent so much time with affection, love and caring being denied that when, on a night when work got the best of him, Five fell into the bed you shared in a Motel room, very close to your lap and you smiled sweetly and ran your fingers through his black hair, establishing the affection there, Five was catatonic.

His wild mind wanted to take it away and go, tell you to swallow those loving gestures and that he would never need them. That they were a nuisance, a distraction.

But his body and heart... well, they begged Five to stay another second. Just one more second enjoying that touch, the care, the importance that someone felt for him. He liked to be pampered, who knew.

So he ended up falling asleep with your touch and, after that day, Five realized that if his body and heart couldn't get any further from you, then no one would ever take you away from him. You would stay with him, until the end. As long as you wanted to stay.

And you wanted to. You wanted all the stages, all the moments, all the fights. You wanted Five, completely. And after some time like that, he said that you two were going to get married. It wasn't a request, it wasn't a speculation, it was a fact and that's it. You laughed, it was Five's style to be embarrassed about something and treat it more coarsely, just because he didn't know how to deal with the emotions he felt.

“Of course I do.” You reassured him by bringing your hands to his face, tracing affectionate circles on his cheek with your thumb.

“You would have no other option.” He grunted, not looking at you, trying to divert attention from his own racing heart.

You laughed and sealed the future of the two of you with a kiss.

After five years of making it official, Five said he had found a way for him to get home. And as he spoke, you noticed a flickering hesitation in his eyes. You knew, at that moment, that Five would leave it behind if there was a chance that you wouldn't want to go along. He promised to love you, in joy and sadness, in difficult times and in good times, and he never broke a promise.

Five Hargreeves would stay for you. In 1963, in 1988, in 2019, it didn't matter the season, the year. It wouldn't be worth anything if didn't have you by his side.

But, like him, it was logical that you would never abandon him, ever. So you went along. It was together in the murder in 1963, it was together at the time of the target, and it was together when he jumped in the portal. You were with Five when he reunited with his family, they all amazement by the 13 year old little brother who disappeared to reappear as a man of 25. On top of that accompanied by a girl.

But Five still couldn't administer his emotions properly, he still couldn't say that he missed his brothers and that being without his family had been terrible. His past contained many shipwrecks and he did not know how to open up about it. After so many years alone and then killing without any judgment, it was difficult to connect with emotions.

So, instead of saying everything that screamed inside him, after just some time with the siblings he took your hand and pulled you out, telling the Hargreeves that he would go after a decent coffee.

“I wish I could have talked to them better.” You grumble whit Five and he rolled his eyes.

“As if they were going to understand the things you were going to explain.” He murmured, covering the whole issue of the Commission and time jumps.

“This is not difficult to explain.” You raised your left hand, signaling the silver circle that hugged your finger.

Five laughed, sipping his coffee.

“You will be my wife forever, there is plenty of time for you to tell that.”

But as soon as Five's words had just left your lips, blowing in the air like fog, the door to the store opened, and you two didn't have to turn around to find out who they were. Years on the commission have earned you enough training to even recognize the sound of their footsteps.

The exchange of looks that Five and you gave was enough to know what each one was thinking and how they would act. That was your secret language, the superpower that you two shared. No words were needed to understand each one like the back of your hand.

You took a deep breath, while your fingers on your right hand steadied yourself on the coffee cup and Five on the knife. There was no waiting for speeches, exchanging words, you both knew that the Commission would send the best agents besides you, and Hazel and Cha-Cha were not known to be late at work.

Then the action started, Five turned and teleported with the knife, shoving it into the leg of one of the agents covered in rabbit masks. You didn't stay behind and swivel your chair around, throwing the sizzling coffee into the second's hands, causing him to drop the gun on the floor. You didn't wait to kick him in the chest, making him stagger backwards as you got up from the chair. You and Five were good, but so was Hazel and Cha-Cha, and you couldn't count on the powers to dodge physical attacks.

Everything was very fast indeed, windows were broken, punches were exchanged, blood was plucked. But when you looked to the side and saw who was probably Cha-Cha pushing Five against a broken glass stake, you understood why love at work was so dangerous. You understand completely. Because you've lost your focus. It took a thousandth of an instant for years of training and improvement to be thrown out the window. Only the possibility of Five getting hurt got you off track, and that was fatale.

The agent who fought with you took advantage of your distraction, reaching for the gun that was on the floor in that split second. And a shot reverberated through the place.

Suddenly, the world for Five stopped the axis. Everything was suspended, appalled, frozen. And in that very second, his body shivered from head to toe, as if misfortune had sighed in his neck. Five Hargreeves never feared anyone, even death itself. But as soon as he heard the sound of the shot, Five tasted death. Was rough, metallic and cruel, the blood drained from the body and the world released a dark and funeral note, sinking into a black sea.

Because fear is not the bullet hitting you, but someone you love.

Five turned back, eyes wide, hands shaking, and he didn't know what was beating faster: his fear or his heart.

He would remember that moment as the most cruel and frightening of his entire life, years in the apocalypse and killing had no comparison to the terror that was seeing your white shirt start to be stained with blood, the bullet hole marking your abdomen. You looked up at him, shocked, livid, and Five could see death perfectly, pulling the vitality out of your eyes.

He didn't think, he didn't reason, he just teleported himself to you, taking your body in his arms and teleported you two away from there. Five’s hands were shaking, a visceral pain snaking through his body and suffocating him with the worst sensation Five had ever felt in his life.

He took you both to the Hargreeves mansion in the blink of an eye, his powers failing when the blue flash left you both in the giant living room.

“Five!”

Maybe it was Luther's voice, or Klaus, or Diego, he didn't know. Everything was a distant echo, a note submerged in the water. Five saw or heard nothing but your body in his arms, your eyes closed and face frighteningly pale, his right hand, which was pressing on your wound, was already soaked in blood.

It was too much blood, the smell was overwhelming, and for the first time in a long time, Five Hargreeves was in despair.

Hands touched his shoulders, and Grace's voice was heard in the background. But he didn't want treatments, whatever the goddamn his wounds were going to be.

“Help her first!” Five shouted, his voice finding strength in the terror he felt. And also in fury.

The Handler would pay for that, and so would Hazel and Cha-Cha. And, by God, the whole world would pay if you never opened your eyes again.

“Right now.” Maybe it was Pogo “But, Five, are you…”

“No!” He ordered “She first!”

Then Grace's hands took you out of his arms and Five refused to leave you for even a second. He was beside you at the operating table, holding your hand, with him bloody fingers of your blood and the agent he had fought.

But Five didn't care about the himself state, the people around it, or anything. His eyes were focused on you, his face frozen in a livid expression.

And when Grace said that you would need a blood transfusion and Five barely let her finish speaking before rolling up the manga and extending his arm, the siblings Hargreeves and Pogo were shocked. What they saw in Five's eyes was not a man afraid of losing someone, but of losing the person he loved.

I shouldn't have come back. Was Five's first thought when the surgery ended well and you were still asleep. It was his fault that you almost died. And everything was buzzing in Five's head like a propellant.

“So…”

Klaus appeared in the kitchen, with the siblings, while Five was washing the blood from his hands, now calmer since you were alive.

“That was heavy.” Luther let out a little gasp, a kind of choked laugh.

“Aren't you going to tell us what happened?” Allison sat at the table.

“She almost died because of my decision, that's what happened.” Five replied, turning and picking up a cloth from the table, drying his hands.

“Five...” Allison made his eyes go towards his sister “Who is she, actually ?”

Five gave a bitter laugh. Who were you? How would he explain it?

You are everything. The reason wake up everyday was good, what made the summer breeze and the sun's rays warm, the reason why his world was still spinning.

Who were you? It was absolutely everything for Five.

“Someone very important.” His whispered escaped.

“So you're saying that girl is your girlfriend ?!" Luther looked at Five in shock, as if the possibility of him having a girlfriend was absurd.

“No.” Five looked at Luther with fire in his eyes, his voice hoarse “That girl is my wife!”

The room's breath evaporated, everyone was dumbfounded and bewildered. But Grace came in at that moment, saving Five from continuing that conversation.

“She woke up.” His mother's voice was soft, and Five dropped everything he was doing and disappeared into the blue flash.

The first thing he noticed when he entered that room was you sitting on the bed, your back against the headboard.

“Hey...” the smile you gave made Five's world spin again.

He didn't wait a second before walking up to you in quick steps, holding your face in his hands and sealing your lips in a desperate kiss, as if that could prove that everything was fine.

“I thought I lost you.” He whispered against your lips, hands shaking, thumbs stroking yours cheeks.

“Bad vase doesn't break early.” You joked and Five laughed softly, his forehead touching your. “Were you hurt?”

He denied it, still with you, as if letting you was impossible. Maybe it was.

“I got distracted, I'm sorry that we let them escape and...”

Five interrupted your sentence

“Sweetheart…” You stopped, bewitched by his tone of voice “You’re my entire world.”

Five wasn't calling Hazel and Cha-Cha right now. He would kill that entire Commission later. Later. Now the only thing that mattered was you.

“I shouldn't have broken our contracts with the commission. I shouldn't have put you in this.” He said “But ... but I am very selfish, and even though I knew it would be better to let you go back to the Commission, I cannot live without you...”

“Hey, I not go come back.” You held his hands that were on your face, looking at him with love "My place is with you.”

“I promise you that I will never let anyone else hurt you. Even if I have to kill every single person on this planet. ” Five guaranteed “There are no limits when it comes to you. I'll do anything to keep you safe. ”

You smiled, put your lips together in a passionate kiss and whispered:

“I only need you, my love. Forever.”

4K notes · View notes

boldlyvoid · 3 years

Text

Wheels Up

Characters: Spencer Reid, Reader (Y/N), Aaron Hotchner, David Rossi, Derek Morgan, Savannah Hayes, Emily Prentiss, Elle Greenaway, Tara Lewis, Jennifer Jareau, Matt Simmons, Luke Alvez

Summary: JJ goes on maternity leave, Spencer falls in love with her replacement that he's supposed to be mentoring, Emily Prentiss and Elle Greenaway work a case together that brings Simmons and Alvez in for help...

Warnings: Genius!Reader, mutual pining, idiots in love, drinking, star gazing, lots of fluff, mentions of past assault, grooming, drug addiction, spencer's trauma, Abductions, Rape, Murder (typical canon violence)

word count: 9.4K

a/n: this is for @starry-eyed-spence and @simmonsmilf CM fanfiction week, Day One: Favorite Character... only I couldn't pick just one.

To say Spencer fell in love at the least opportune time was a bit of an understatement. Everyone he’s ever come close to admitting his love to has either left him or died. Now he’s stuck with loving someone in secret, keeping it to himself and hoping that one day she’ll love him back.

He fell in love with a co-worker once again… which wasn’t the worst thing, office romances happen and it’s quite frankly all Rossi’s fault that they even had to worry about fraternization policies. The part that makes liking Y/N so difficult is that he’s supposed to be her mentor, he’s 5 years older than her, and if he was to ever make a move she would feel inclined to reciprocate in order to keep her job because that’s the unfortunate truth behind office relationships with significant differences in positions.

And worst of all… she doesn’t like him that way at all. She’s called him the brother she always needed, a best friend, the best mentor ever. She wasn’t interested in him in the slightest.

“And why would she be?” He’s said this to everyone who knew about his crush on her. “I’m old and boring and she’s so cool?”

But he didn’t get it. He didn’t understand that every time she asked him to hang back to help her file something, or when they would buddy up in hotel rooms to discuss cases all night and end up down some star trek rabbit hole instead, every time he talked to her she was falling in love with him right back.

It once again all circles back to Rossi, if it wasn’t for him, Spencer wouldn’t even know her. She wouldn’t have ever been introduced to the unit, he wouldn’t be attached to her at the hip and he probably wouldn’t be as happy as he is with her in his life. Even if she wasn’t his girlfriend.

He’ll never forget the day Rossi asked him to meet her, to help her settle in…

“Spencer, can I talk to you for a minute?” Rossi called him into his office.

He sighed, putting his book down and walking up the stairs to his office. He closed the door behind himself and smiled awkwardly, “what’s up?”

“Sit,” he gestures to the chairs in front of his desk, where Spencer pulls one out and proceeds to sit down, anxiously. “As you know, both Kate and JJ will be out of the field in the next few months to have their babies and we need to bring someone in to fill the void until they return, so I reached out to the academy to see if they have any up and coming Dr. Reid like agents that they could loan us.”

“Why?” Spencer laughs at the choice of words.

“Well, honestly, why get new 2 agents when we could have two Reid’s? JJ will be back after a month or 2, it’s better to have more brains than brawn.”

“So they found someone and you want me to be their chaperone?” Spencer clues in. “Who are they?”

“Y/N Y/L/N, she’s a wonderful agent, but she’s pretty quiet, I don’t know much about her personally.” Rossi prefaces. “She’s a genius, high IQ like yours and just a plethora of knowledge inside that mind of hers. You’ll like her.”

“Alright,” he nods. “When do they start?”

“When JJ’s water breaks, but I’d like you to meet them and maybe even have them shadow you for a day?” Rossi asks, “I’ve actually arranged for you both to get dinner at a friend's restaurant?”

“Is this an arranged date or purely business? Don’t send me in there blind,” he worries. “I need at least a week's prep before I go on a date again.”

“It’s not a date, kid,” Rossi laughs. “She's just a lot like you were when I met you, and I know from watching you all these years that it’s not easy to do it alone, so can you just walk them through it?”

“Of course.”

That first dinner Rossi set up for them was more exquisite than either of them prepared for.

They spent the whole night discussing dissertations and their independent journeys through becoming a genius. He understood perfectly why Rossi and the Academy would think she was a lot like him, she was a genius, but she was awkward. It took a while for her to break out of her shell and open up, but by the end of the night, he already knew they were going to be friends.

“So,” she smirks, “would you mind telling me honestly how hard this job is?”

“Why?”

She sighs, “I’ve heard a lot about Thee Doctor Reid and how you were the youngest hired to the BAU and all the shit you’ve been through.”

“What are the rumours these days?” He awkwardly smiles back, rolling his eyes slightly.

“That you were brain dead in a cemetery from an overdose and yet you’re so smart you came back from the dead to kill the unsub and escape…” she looks more and more disappointed in the rumour as she tells it.

His tongue hits the roof of his mouth as he opens it to speak, making a tsk noise as he shakes his head. “Well, I did OD but it was the unsubs main personality that resuscitated me.”

“Holy shit,” she whispers.

He nods, “what about you? I’m sure you have a reputation based on a rumour?”

She presses her lips together the way he always did, just as awkward. She sighs, huffing the air out of her nose and looking fed up. “I was groomed and assaulted by an older boy who then told kids I had a stalkerish crush on him so if I was to ever tell anyone what happened, then no one would believe me.”

“I’m so sorry,” Spencer knows the words don’t make up for what happened. “I’m guessing that’s why you wanted to get into profiling?”

She nods, “I got away with some PTSD and trust issues, most girls go through much worse… they deserve someone who gets it to look into their cases.”

Spencer nods. “That’s how I felt after my kidnapping too. It took a while for me to look at crime scene photos and not think about how they felt, and wonder why I lived when so many die?”

“I’ve never been a religious person,” she prefaces. “But I do believe we are here for a reason. Whether you choseto be here after your last life or this is some learning opportunity, or God is actually real? And you’re supposed to do good.”

“In narcotics anonymous, they reference god a lot, it’s helpful for the addicts, but I never get into it,” he opens up with her more than he’s ever opened up with any friend. “If my Devine purpose is to suffer in order to relate to those I’m supposed to help that’s a load of bullshit… honestly, I can get pretty angry thinking about why I’ve gone through what I’ve gone through doing this job, but it’s not as bad as what happened to me growing up, and it leads me to believe that I probably wouldn’t have had an easy time no matter how I live.”

She nods, “I know, I get that.”

“Sorry,” he snaps out of it. “I didn’t mean to trauma dump on you.”

“It’s exactly what I asked for actually,” she reminds him with a soft smile. “If you can still come to work every day, after all that, you must be incredibly strong— and if I’m anything like you the way people say I am, I guess I can do it too.”

He had no idea she would end up being his best friend.

She shadowed him just once in the office, picked up everything right off the bat and immediately made a name for herself in the unit. Derek tried multiple names on her before one stuck, and they knew it stuck when even Hotch called her Baby Genius.

She brought a different knowledge base to the team, similar to Spencers but visibly younger. She fit in with the crowds of kids they had to interview, she understood why kids reacted the way they did to trauma and abuse, and she was still a kid at heart. It was the reason Spencer fell for her.

She allowed him to feel free again. They went out together outside of work, going to events he always wanted to go to with a partner but never had a chance. She loved all the same things as him, and she takes him to places he’d never imagine enjoying before her.

Like laser tag… that was an afternoon he’ll never forget with her.

When JJ went into labour, that’s when Y/N started full time and Hotch hired Tara Lewis in the same week. The team barely had time to adjust to being undermanned before they were restocked.

Joining Spencer every morning for every case, she waited out front of her apartment for him to pick her up most mornings, sticking to his side throughout the long days and nights until he drove her home again. Even at work, they were partnered up for everything: heading to the M.E. together, bouncing facts back and forth at the precinct, playing good cop bad cop with perverts, and her personal favourite… Making the geoprofile.

And Spencer liked doing that part with her as well. Because it typically meant they were completely alone in a room, spreading out a map and leaning in close to each other as they placed every sticker and marker. Brushing hands, bumping shoulders, longing glances as they made connections… he also just liked to watch her hands move.

She was delicate and careful and precise… and he was falling in love with everything about her as the days went by.

Everyone on the team had noticed. It was really hard not to when they’ve all known Spencer for almost 11 years now. He was so different with her in his life, he was happy and giddy and dressing even better than before. His hair was perfect and he was glued to Y/N’s side. Or she was glued to his.

Even though they were mentally similar, physically they were polar opposites. Y/N wore all black and was a lot more outgoing than they expected. Rossi thought she’d be quiet… But she was constantly talking. To Spencer, to other officers, to witnesses, she never stopped talking and starting conversations, and thank god she did because she’s cracked 4 cases that way.

The biggest surprise the team learned about her happened on a case in Florida, a shooting in a local park in broad daylight with lots of witnesses meant the whole team was on the boardwalk asking questions. She went out to do her thing, talking to the local skaters, asking them if they knew anything but they didn’t want to cooperate.

They were too cool for the feds.

“Can I see your board?” She asks, “if I do some tricks will you answer some questions for me and Doctor Reid?”

“Knock yourself out,” one of the boys laughs as he hands her his board.

She hands Spencer her gun and shoots him a wink before taking off to do a few tricks. The whole team watches in awe then as Y/N showed off. Cruising along the halfpipe effortlessly like she was a professional.

“Okay Tony Hawk,” Morgan teases her, “where did that come from?”

“Skateboarding is easy, it’s just physics,” she shrugs. “I can figure skate too…”

“What do you want to know?” The boy takes his board back. “We always see some sketchy guys around here.”

Morgan pats Y/N on the back with a smile, applauding her ability to get anyone to open up before leaving her to take the statement.

“Agent?” One of the girls pulls her aside just before they are about to leave, “how did you do that kickflip? I’ve been trying to learn and the boys won't help me.”

“Sure thing,” she takes the girl's board and demonstrates a kickflip first.

“So, you see as I start the kickflip I bend my knees?” She shows her another kickflip all while explaining it. “Much like the with an ollie, I’m building pressure so I can apply it to the tail, making the board pop. The one thing that makes this trick different from the ollie is that instead of sliding my foot up, I just flick my toe out to the right of the board, by doing this, the board flips in a 360-degree motion.

She demonstrates again and it’s another flawless kickflip, and a huge smile on her face as Spencer watches her.

“How fast the board spins depends on how much force I put into it when I flick it out. As soon as the board flips in a full 360, your feet should connect and drive the board back to the ground.”

She hands the board back to the girl, “your turn.”

She takes a deep breath and shakes her nerves out before taking off on her board, looping around and carefully bending her knees, she follows every step and it’s a flawless kickflip.

“Flawless!!” Y/N claps. “Those boys better watch out, you’re a natural.”

“Thank you,” she wraps her arms around Y/N and gives her a hug, “it’s taken me so long to be able to do that, you’re so cool.”

“You’re welcome,” she smiles. “Good luck out there.”

She waves as she takes off on her board, leaving Y/N with a smile as she turns to Spencer. “I miss being that age and thinking everything is so cool.”

“You are really cool,” he agrees. Smiling softly as a blush fills his cheeks. “You’re always surprising me. Is there anything you can’t do?”

She laughs, “yeah the one thing I want to do the most.”

“Which is?”

She sighs, “maybe I’ll tell you someday.”

—

He’s sitting beside Penelope and Savannah, watching Derek and Y/N get drinks for what’s left of the group as the night drags on.

“When are you going to tell her?” Savannah asks.

“What?” Spencer pretends he doesn’t know what she’s talking about.

“You have a crush on the new girl…” she pokes his cheek as he blushes and gives it away. “Tell her, what’s the worst that can happen?”

“She could feel forced to say yes because I’m a supervisory special agent and she isn’t and she wants to keep her job so she feels like she needs to,” Spencer worries. “I want her to like me back because she fell for me and I want her to initiate it because then I’ll know it’s not just a power dynamic issue.”

“Have you tried asking her, genius?” Penelope teases. “Because if you asked her then you’d know she has a crush on you and she’s afraid you’ll turn her down because you’re an SSA and she isn’t.”

“When did you hear that?”

Penelope pretends to lock up her lips and throw away the key, making Savannah laugh loud enough to get Derek's attention at the bar. When he and Y/N return, that’s when the questions start.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” Spencer gets up and leaves the booth, walking out towards the smokers' exit at the back of the bar, getting a moment of semi-fresh air to think about what Penelope said.

“Spence?” She calls to him from the door, “are you okay? Can I come out here?”

“Yeah,” he nods. “Sorry, I needed some air, it’s nothing.”

“Do you need a hug? I read it helps the most when people are stressed out,” she plays it off with a shrug.

“So you do have a crush on me?”

“She told you?” Her face lights with fury, “what the fuck, Penelope?”

“She didn’t mean to,” he tries to cover it up. “It was only brought up because I have feelings for you as well.”

Her eyes widen, her brows raise and her mouth slowly opens as she freezes.

“Y/N?”

She blinks a few times and shakes her head, “impossible. There’s no way.”

He laughs, “I’ll take that hug now?”

She lunges for him and wraps her arms around him so tight. Breathing him in, her hands wander his back as she takes in every second if it and he does the same. He can’t believe she’s that close to him, her hair smells nice and she’s so soft in his arms.

It’s quiet outside, they can hear the music behind the door, the people in the ally talking and the crickets in the night. It’s just them outside, holding each other in the smoking section with smiles on their faces, amazed that it’s finally happening.

“Can we keep this between us?” She whispers into his ear. “Just for a bit? I don’t want to go through all the paperwork and have to separate in the field if it doesn’t work out?”

“Wait,” Spencer pulls back. “Are you asking me to be your boyfriend?”

She nods, “well yeah isn’t that what happens when two people have a mutual crush? They date?”

“Okay,” he smiles, staring at her lips and then flicking his gaze back to hers with a blush. “I have more than a crush on you, I really, really like you.”

“Prove it,” she teases, “let's go on a real date soon?”

“You know what, let’s get out of here. I have something I want to show you,” he takes her hand and waits for her to nod.

“Take my lead okay? You don’t feel good and you’re going to wait outside while I say goodbye,” she has a plan right away

“After you,” he holds the door open for her and lets her inside first.

—

“I’m taking Spencer home, he’s not doing well,” she’s a much better actress than Spencer expected, patting his back and watching him leave the bar before her like she asked him to do. “He’s really anxious?”

Penelope looks worried, “oh no, I fucked up. I told him you like him.”

She just shrugs, “if he didn’t know that already then I guess he’s not as smart as he pretends to be.”

“See,” Derek looks at Savannah. “I told you everyone else also thinks he’s faking being that smart.”

“Shut up,” she shoves him and turns her attention back to Y/N. “Go make him feel better, he’ll like your company.”

“I’ll see you guys at work on Monday,” she waves them goodbye, surprised they bought it as she rushes her way back outside to Spencer.

He’s already in his car, engine running and waiting for her with a smile. “Come on,” he hurries her inside and is taking off down the road before she even has her seatbelt on yet.

“What’s the rush, Spence? It’s only 1 in the morning I’m sure tones of places are open still?” She teases.

“You’re going to like this, I used to go here all the time when I started with the bureau,” he explains, leaving the main road to take a back root, and eventually they’re driving on gravel.

“If you’re taking me here to murder me this is a dumb way to do it because they all know I left with you,” she teases. “At least when you go to get rid of me, do yourself a favour and dig 6 one-foot holes instead of one 6 foot hole…”

He laughs, “would you really give your murderer tips?”

She nods, “my goal would be to piss him off so much he either lets me go or murders me quickly. I don’t want to go through all the pain.”

“It’s not fun, that’s for sure,” he shrugs it off but she knows it hits too hard.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, reaching her hand out for his to hold by the gear shift. “I think you’re like the strongest guy in the world, you know that, right?”

“Why?” He asks as if that's a preposterous thing to say.

“I think if I got kidnapped and tortured at 24 I wouldn’t still be working in the FBI,” she admits. “I barely made it through the academy, I know this job is intense but I don’t think I could handle being in that situation.”

“If it’s up to me,” Spencer squeezes her hand tighter and brings it to his lips for a kiss. “You’ll never experience anything like that.”

He’s so good at making her feel safe that she almost believes he has the power to do that. He would do anything and everything to move fate for her safety.

He turns down another back road then, around the edge of a lake and towards a clearing. He follows old tire tracks and parks by the dock. “I found this spot one night on a random drive to clear my head.”

“I thought you hated driving?” She quizzes him.

He shrugs, “I like to drive at night when no one else is on the road because then I don’t really have to worry about anyone else. I hate driving because I can’t always anticipate other drivers' movements. If I could read minds, then I’d drive more.”

“Valid,” she nods, “now why is this such a special spot that you needed to show me right away?”

“Well, I have a telescope and it’s been in my trunk for the last 13 years so that every time I come here, I can look up at the moon…”

“You brought me here to look at the moon with you?” She swoons, “that’s so cute.”

“You think?” He looks like his heart is doing the same swelling as hers.

She gets out of the car before she can lean over and kiss him the way she wants to. In his trunk, he does have a telescope, and a blanket, which they set out on the dock and sit upon.

The sound of the lake, the loons in the distance, frogs and crickets and music travelling from somewhere down the lake. The moon was big, the stars were amazing, and this was the closest she has ever seen them. It's amazing, and of course, it was Spencer showing her everything.

He was everything to her.

And it didn’t take long for him to become everything to her either.

Joining the BAU was a dream to many at the academy, but Y/N never thought that she would get the job, overjoyed that she did. They were a family unit; they got the job done, they protected each other, and it was a wonderful environment to be a part of. She obviously liked Spencer the most out of everyone. He took her in, he made her feel comfortable and safe and she opened up more with him than she has with anyone she’s labelled a “best friend” in the past.

She liked everything about him. The way he talked with his hands, how his sweater, vest, shirt and tie always match, his gun looks a little out of place on his belt, like it’s too big for him, but it’s cute. His hair’s been getting longer too, sometimes he wears glasses and sometimes if she’s lucky, he doesn’t shave every day.

She can’t take her eyes off him when he’s busy and won't notice, just to then move her focus away when he stared at her. She only wishes she could see the way he stares at her in awe, because if it’s anything like how she looks at him, he must love her.

She keeps her hand in his, trading the telescope back and forth in turns, her face was close to his every time they switched and she kept getting bolder with each exchange. Letting Spencer look, she kept her face close to his, kissing his cheek softly as soon as he was busy peering up at the moon.

He turned to her with a gasp, “what was that for?”

“You’re cute,” she shrugs. “I’ve wanted to kiss you for a while.”

“How long?” He teases, leaning in closer and kissing her nose to make her laugh.

“Since you dropped me off at my house after that first dinner…”

“So this is me,” she nods out the window, “thank you for the ride, I appreciate not having to be in an Uber all by myself.”

“Anytime you need a ride, you can give me a call?” He asks. “Seeing as we’ll be going to the same place anyway.”

She nods with a smile, “I’d love that, do you live close to here?”

“Just up the street,” he nods. “So we could carpool?”

“I can drive some days if you want?” She asks, “I know you mostly take the subway, and I know that because I’ve seen you reading on there before.”

He can’t help but smile, “so you never thought to say hello?”

“No,” she shakes her head, “you looked peaceful, and I’m sure you don’t get many moments like that in your line of work.”

He sighed, knowing she was right. “If it ever gets to be too much for you, please never feel like you have to pretend to be okay? None of us expect you to be stone cold, none of us are either. The job gets to us, just tell me if it gets to be too much?”

She looks from his lips back to his eyes and over again, “thanks, Spencer.”

He does the same to her, “anytime. Should I walk you to your door?”

She shakes her head, “that’s okay you’ve done enough for me tonight.”

“Fair enough,” he laughs. “Have a good night Y/N.”

“You too, Spencer,” she smiles before she exits his car, smiling at him from her porch before he drives away.

“So it’s been mutual this whole time?” He shakes his head at the absurdity. “I’ve been so lonely for so long and then I found you and you make me feel like I don’t need to be alone anymore.”

“You complete me too,” she makes one more comment before connecting their lips.

It’s like the world stops then. It’s silent and serene and everything she thought kissing Spencer Reid would be.

She pulls back with a smirk, “oh no.”

“What?” He worries.

“I’m going to want to kiss you all the time now…”

“Good,” he mumbles the words against her lips before reconnecting them.

—

At work on Monday, it’s very hard for them to look at each other without remembering that they’ve kissed. Spencer’s practically glowing with admiration for her that he gives it all away. He’s overly happy, offering to do things for others, standing way too close to her and bringing her coffee all morning.

“Okay, pretty boy,” Derek takes him by the scruff of the neck and redirects him into his office. “What’s going on with you today, I know you’re not this happy for JJ’s return?”

“What do you mean?”

“Did you get laid or something?”

Spencer laughs, “no, you know I don’t get laid. You actually remind me of that fact quite often.”

“You’re so happy I’m worried you’ve moved to crack,” he says it. “Okay, you were acting weird on Friday, you missed brunch on Sunday and now you’re waaay too happy.”

“I’m not on drugs again,” Spencer assures him. “I’m just letting myself enjoy my time with Y/N, if she falls in love with me in the meantime that would also be nice.”

“Oh, so you’re doing this to get laid,” Derek teases him again. “That’s good, I’m sorry if I triggered you by asking, but I had to make sure you’re okay.”

“No, no,” he places his hands on Derek's shoulders, “thank you for caring.”

“Always—“

“Guys!” They hear Hotch yelling from the bullpen, cutting the tender moment short, saving Spencer from spilling the truth.

Rushing back, he sits beside Y/N at the briefing room table. “We have a bad one,” Emily Prentiss of all people walks in the door, followed by Elle Greenaway.

“We’ll have time to mingle in a minute, right now there is a woman who needs our help,” he announces.

Spencer quickly reads over the case files, recognizing Elles handwritten notes, she was a private investigator now. “With Penelope’s help, I’ve been able to set up alerts in College chatrooms in the area so that I can help to missing and assaulted women right away.”

“She’s alerted when someone reports a missing woman and she has advertisements for people to reach out to her for help,” Penelope explained.

“I’ve been working on these cases for the last 9 years,” Elle announces. “This morning Aasia Desai called me saying her sister Bahni never showed up for lunch and it’s not like her, we know she went clubbing last night and so far Penelope’s tracked her down an ally and then she’s gone.”

“Her parents are British diplomats so Interpol has asked me to join, luckily I was just in Ontario so it was a short trip over,” Emily adds. “JJ will be here in half an hour for her first day back, and we will celebrate when we can, but I see we have some new faces here?”

“Special Agent Y/N Y/L/N,” she waves, still glued to Spencer’s side. “I’ve heard a lot about you both from Doctor Reid.”

“Doctor Tara Lewis,” she stands and shakes Emily’s hand, and then Elles.

“So it says here that the first missing case was in 2006 just after you left the BAU?” Spencer changes the subject before anyone can pry into why he would be telling her about the women who worked there before her.

“I did,” Elle nods. “I was too late for her, by the time her parents realized she was missing and called me in the case was cold. I started this as a way to get ahead of it.”

“How long has she been missing?” Tara asks.

“She was last seen at 1:07 this morning,” Elle confirms. “We have 25 hours, maybe, to beat the odds.”

“Reid,” Hotch cuts in, “I would like you and Elle to go check out the street she was last seen on, find any private cameras or anyone who might have seen something.”

He turns to Y/N who just shrugs in silence; “it’s fine.”

“Tara and Derek, I’d like you to interview Aasia when she and JJ get here, Garcia can you do a deep dive into Bahni’s spending and academic records?”

“Sure thing,” she starts clicking away on her computer immediately.

“And Y/N,” Elle looks at her. “I need you to go over the footage of the man who followed her to the alley and get familiar with his face. We’re using you as the face of the investigation to hopefully draw the unsub out.”

“How would she be able to do that alone?” Spencer gets defensive, a way he used to with JJ when she was the media liaison.

“If she goes on the news and makes Bahni seem like a person while describing the unsub as someone who can help solve the case, it will draw him out,” Emily explains for Hotch, who is glaring at Spencer for second-guessing the plan already.

“And she’s college-age,” Elle adds. “If that’s who he’s been going after all this time he will want to come in and talk IF he can talk to her.”

She places her hand on his leg under the table, “it’s a good plan.”

“It is,” Hotch agrees.

“What do you not have a saying to replace wheels up when they stay in town?” Elle teases him.

“Wheels away?” Emily joins her, “that works?”

“just get to work,” Hotch tries not to smirk at them.

Spencer stands up to leave with Elle, “can I just talk to Spencer before he leaves?” She carefully asks Hotch.

“Make it quick,” he agrees reluctantly and lets her follow him down to his desk.

Spencer rests his hands on the back of his desk chair, holding it tightly in an attempt to calm himself down.

“I’m going to be fine,” she assures him. “I don’t think the guy on the tape took her, we’d see him leave if he did.”

“Unless he lives in the alley,” Spencer combats. “Can you ask Penelope to do a background check on all the cars coming in and out of the campus and that street between midnight at 2 am?”

She nods, placing her hand on his gently. “Good luck out there, okay?”

He nods, “it’s been 2 days they’re going to know by the end of the week.”

She laughs, “so be it.”

He says fuck it right then and there, wrapping her up in a hug and kissing the top of her head as the team watches in the briefing room. “I’ll see you later.”

“Yes you will,” she smacks his side as he lets her go. “If you’re going to make a scene at least give me a real kiss.”

“Hmm,” he teases. “No cause then I’d have to sign some paperwork and I’ve got to go…” he starts to back away.

“Coward,” she teases.

He just shrugs, meeting Elle by the door and heading towards the elevators in silence.

She doesn’t ask, not even when they get to the garage or inside the SUV. They’re driving down the road for maybe 2 minutes when Elle finally brings it up. “So—”

“What do you want to know?”

“It's that easy now? What happened to you?” She teases. “You’re so different from the baby Spence I left.”

“Well you missed my drug problem, my dad being a possible child molester, getting shot in the knee, getting shot in the neck, my girlfriend dying, and now my mom might have Alzheimer's so you know… I had to grow up a bit,” he lays it all out for her to ask any question she wants.

“Why don’t you ever call me? I would have been there for you through anything,” she reminds him.

“I know that,” he reaches over for her hand, “thank you. But I was a big fan of suffering in silence… and now I have Y/N and she makes me feel normal?”

“That’s good, you deserve some fraction of normal in your life and she’s really cute,” Elle smiles back at him before returning her focus to the road. “How old is she?”

“27,” he smiles. “She’s the best.”

“You love her,” Elle notices it.

He presses his lips together to fend off a smile as he nods, “I think I do.”

“Tell her, you deserve to hear that someone loves you back.”

—

She’s anxiously tapping her foot as she waits for the elevator to arrive with the suspect, Rossi standing just behind her. Only 15 minutes after being on the news, the man that was in the security footage contacted them. Making his way over for a voluntary interview.

He looks Y/N up and down with a smile, “I heard you were looking for me.”

“I sure was,” she plays along with it, smiling and making him think she’s interested as well. “I knew you’d get the message, we just need all the help we can get right now.”

“Of course,” he has his ego stroked so well that they can roll with it.

“Would you mind coming with me and Agent Rossi to talk about everything you saw?” She batts her lashes at him, really selling it.

“Sure,” he follows them down the hall.

Rossi opens the door and lets them in first, letting her get him settled and a glass of water. “So you can tell me everything from that night?”

“Sure,” he nods, explaining his taxi job, his run for the night and his alibi.

“So why did you step back into the doorway?” She asks as she sits in front of him. Straight-faced as she catches him off guard.

“Excuse me?”

“You stepped out of the way to let her pass and then followed her, she made no motion to say she wanted your services, so I’m just wondering why you would follow her before she disappeared?”

“Huh,” he suddenly feels played and his personality switches. “I thought this was just a chat?”

“I’m simply asking you questions? If you don’t have answers that makes you suspicious. An innocent person would have given me an answer,” she fights back.

“She’s right, you got very defensive very fast,” Rossi finally speaks up.

He shakes his head with a huff. “I was going to ask if she needed a ride, she looked pretty messed up. And then some guy came over and wrapped his arm around her and they walked off. They seemed to know one another. I thought she was safe in his hands.”

Only his tone doesn’t match the words. He sounds jealous— It’s not like she would have been a large tab, he wasn’t jealous because he lost a customer. No, he’s jealous like someone stepped in and prevented him from snatching an easy victim.

“Fair enough,” she pretends to believe him. “Thank you for your cooperation.”

“I can go now?” He changes right back to confused.

She nods, “I’ll escort you down if you’d like?”

“Thanks,” he stands and follows her to the door where Rossi stops her.

“Are you sure?”

She nods, “I’ll be back up shortly.”

She catches up with him by the elevators, “did you have to drive far to get here?” She makes small talk.

“Not really,” he shakes it off. “I like your necklace.”

She touches her necklace and her face drops, “thanks.”

“Necklaces are my favourite.”

“You don’t wear any?” She notices in the form of a question.

He shakes his head as the elevator opens at the ground level. “I think they’re nice gifts.”

She nods along, pretending that didn’t set off every ret alert and alarm in her mind, “well here you are. Thanks again for all the help.”

“No problem,” he goes to leave, turning to stop and block the doors from closing. “If you want, later tonight I can show you everything I saw at the alley?”

“Yeah, sure,” she agrees with no plan to go.

“8 pm? At Cafe Linda?”

“See you then,” she agrees and he steps back letting the door close and then she loses her cool.

Feverishly smashing the floor 6 button, and begging to make it back up to Hotch to tell him everything. But she also just wants to cry but she holds it in as she makes it to their floor matching past Rossi and right into the briefing room.

“He may not be our unsub but that man is a creep,” she announces. “He not only complimented my necklace but he asked me to come to the alley tonight so he can walk me through what he saw.”

“You’re not going,” Hotch announces.

“I didn’t plan to,” she snaps. “I think we need to look into him because he’s either giving little girls necklaces to keep them quiet or he’s taking necklaces after he kills women.”

“Kathy’s parents said she was in a necklace when she went missing,” Emily adds. “His connection to this case and being at NYU right before she went missing gives us enough probable cause for a search warrant.”

Hotch sighs, “fine. I’ll call a judge, you and Y/N can go and search his place.”

“So shouldn’t we arrest him before he leaves the building?” Morgan asks.

“He’s still in the garage, I’ve let the security know to stop him and arrest him at the gate,” Garcia adds, listening in and planning in advance.

“Thank you,” Hotch smiles at her, “you’re always reading my mind.”

Garcia smiles back at him, “always, sir.”

“Okay, let’s go,” she looks at Emily and waiting for her to turn to leave the room.

“Let’s,” she motions for Y/N to take the lead and follows.

The drive to his house is so weird… she doesn’t quite know how to talk to Emily, knowing only slightly about her and her knowing nothing about Y/N.

“So how long have you and Spencer been dating?” Her first question just gets right to the point.

She laughs awkwardly, “3 days…”

“Oh…”

She hums as she nods along, looking out the window and avoiding Emily’s eye contact. “It’s new, we’re both pretty infatuated with each other but we’re taking it slower than most people because I’m afraid to let my feelings change how I do the job.”

“Makes sense,” Emily replies. Her voice is so sweet, she has an aura of calm that follows her and lets Y/N feel safe. She gets why Spencer said she was his best friend on the team before her.

“The necklace comment… why did it make you so wary of this guy?”

“When I was in middle school a guy gave me a necklace while he was grooming me,” she whispers. Looking out the window and pretending it doesn’t bother her now. “It’s fine, I don’t have it anymore, but I knew this guy had that same vibe.”

Emily put her hand out, letting Y/N interlock their fingers and hold it. “I know I just met you, but you’re family now. I’m here if you’re ever suddenly not fine with it anymore…”

“Thanks,” she smiles. “Let’s get this fucker.”

—

By the time the warrant went through, Spencer and Elle had joined them to search the first suspect's house while Emily left to help the rest of the team with suspect two. Tracking all the license plates in the area like Spencer suggested lead them to a Chinese food delivery driver in the area.

That didn’t stop Y/N from destroying her suspect's house. They tore the house apart, searching every nook and cranny for any answer that would make sense. She was tempted to lift the floorboards up, call in SCSI to run ground-penetrating radar and search the fucking walls if they had to.

But then she found it.

A small metal box in the laundry room contained some tools and when she lifted up the fake bottom, she found 5 necklaces.

“Elle!!” She yelled through the house.

They both came running down the hall to her, “is this Kathy’s necklace?”

“Oh my god,” she whispered with a nod.

“I want to kill this guy,” she mumbles under her breath as she places the necklaces back in the box and closes it up.

“Spencer doesn’t need another girl he has a crush on to murder someone and get kicked out of the bureau,” Elle teases.

“What?” Y/N asks.

“Way to go,” Spencer nudges her.

Y/N stands up with the box and slides it into a large evidence bag before taping it up. “I guess he has a type then.”

“I don’t,” Spencer tries to cover up. “I mean, if I do then it’s people who are nice to me…”

She smiles at him, unable to even pretend to be jealous or mad. “It’s hard to be mean to you when you’re so cute.”

“Ew,” Elle announces her disgust as she leaves the room.

“Let’s get out of here before I end up kissing you in a murderer's laundry room,” Spencer teases, taking her hand and leading her out of the house as the rest of the forensics team takes over the bagging of evidence.

“Guys,” Elle rushes back to them with her phone pressed to her ear. “We have a bigger problem than we thought with Bahni.”

They rush into the SUV, putting the team on the speaker to hear the most unthinkable. “So I did what Y/N suggested and searched every single driver coming in and off-campus and the last street she was seen on,” Penelope explains back. “And I came across a man who was delivering Chinese food under the name Tom Larson… and it’s ironic his name is tom because he has a plethora of peeping offences and general creepiness alongside a metric shit-ton of abuse from his dad and dead mother.”

“Okay?” Elle follows.

“Tom Larson lives near Bahni,” Emily explains, “I was just at his house where I found him and his father had been murdered.”

“So we have not 1 but 3 creeps in this case, and none of them are who took Bahni?” Spencer rubs his eyes. “Please tell me we know who was in Tom’s car last night.”

“That’s where it gets tricky,” Penelope says with the doles tones of keys clicking behind her words. “We were just contacted by the fugitive Taskforce because they believe one of the murderers they’ve been tracking took Bahni… but he has ties to a much larger scale global sex trafficking ring.”

Elle flies through the streets with their lights on, pulling back into headquarters and right up to the security check. “So who is this guy?”

“Once you get back up here, Agent Simmons and Alvez will explain everything,” Hotch confirms. “I’m taking Derek to see Cruze, we need to tell him what’s going on.”

“Sounds good,” Elle hangs up and throws the SUV in park.

Y/N hesitates, staying put and taking a few breaths as Spencer watches. Elle’s left the car and is already on her way to the elevator. “What’s wrong?”

“Can I just have a hug real quick?”

“Yeah,” he wraps his arms around her and holds her close. “Are you okay?”

She nods against him, “yeah it’s just good to have at least 8 hugs a day.”

“Hug me whenever you need to,” he whispers against her hair, kissing the side of her head before she pulls back.

“Kisses are helpful too?”

He smiles, leaning in and pressing his lips to hers, mumbling against them, “how many?”

She hums, “10?”

He pecks her lips 10 times and counts each one, making her giggle, it takes so much effort to hold her smile back to keep kissing him but she feels much better.

“Thank you,” she beams and she can swear Spencer's eyes sparkle as he smiles back.

She pulls him into another hug, “I hate that we have to go catch a killer right now.”

“Come on then, as soon as we get him we can go on another date somewhere?”

She shakes her head, “after this case I think we should take a nap together… I’m exhausted and I don’t want to let you go.”

Spencer shakes his head in amazement, “you really like me?”

“Yeah, maybe I do,” she teases him. “You should get used to it because it’s only going to get more intense and I will smother you with love.”

He just shrugs, “it’s about time—“

They’re startled with a knock on the window, “we get it you’re in love, can we go now?”

“Sorry!” Y/N calls back with a giggle, pulling him in for one last kiss before getting out. Spencer follows with a deep blush that everyone will see when they get back upstairs, but it looks cute on him.

Luke Alvez has been trying to catch one criminal for the last 2 years. Simon Garrett has been a pain in the ass for the FBI, the CIA and DEA. He first showed up on their radar when his DNA was found on 14 women’s remains, all of who had been missing for at least 5 years.

His DNA was then traced to his son in the foster system, who’s been off the radar for the last 10 years. Everette Garrett.

“Now he’s interesting because I’ve been investigating his sex trafficking ring between Canada and the United States,” Matt adds. “All 14 women his father's DNA was found on were thought to be in his ring, which means when they get too old he hands them to his father to take care of.”

Y/N shakes her head as she listens, “so if you’ve been looking for them for this long what makes you think we can find them in time to save Bahni?”

“We’ve been tracking him for a while, we knew that he had a new girl on his radar and when we heard it was Bahni Desai we knew it was time to get you guys,” Matt explains.

“So far we know that she has to be taken to this warehouse in Alexandria before she goes any further, we’re going to intercept them before they make it to the warehouse and then use their car to gain access to take the whole thing down,” Luke rolls out a map of the facility then.

“We need to have the place surrounded for any runners, SWAT is getting prepped, we’re going tonight at 3 am,” Matt adds. “Morgan, Hotch, Prentiss, Alvez and Myself will be running a team at each of the 5 exits. Once inside, each team's swat unit will deploy gas to carefully knock everyone out, from there we need someone to cuff everyone at least until we know who is a victim and who is working there.”

“We’re taking everyone alive?” Spencer makes sure he hears them right.

“We need to know what the step after this warehouse is if we want to rescue more victims,” Luke’s voice is gentle yet stern as he explains. “I’ve seen this man take too many women from good homes and ruin their lives, I’m not letting him slip out of my fingers.”

“We’ve had this planned for months, we just needed to wait for the next confirmed drop-off.”

“Who’s driving?” Y/N asks, having a feeling it was her and Spencer.

“He’s Reids age,” Hotch announces from the door as he walks in with Cruze, “so we’ll replace Everette with Reid and Bahni with Y/L/N.”

“Rossi and Elle will be there to apprehend Everette, we’re setting up a fake traffic spot to irritate him and inhibit him from running. You two will be in a duplicate car arriving at the warehouse at the arranged time,” Emily confirms. “We just have to prep SWAT and then we can leave.”

“Alright, let’s get ready.”

—

Pretending to be kidnapped in the back of a car driven by her boyfriend was possibly the weirdest way to spend a Tuesday morning. Driving the exact make and model as their unsub, her heartbeat was loud enough to cover the sound of the engine and distract her from the long drive. She was overly anxious, and rightly so, it was her first sting.

And she was doing it all without coffee. Tired but full of adrenaline, she wanted to close her eyes and drift off but she knew she needed to be ready to apprehend the men at the gate with Spencer.

She feels the large bump, indicating they just went over a speed bump and she knows what that means. The car slows and she can hear the muffled talking before swat steps in, soon enough Spencer is cracking the trunk open and reaching in for her.

“Are you okay?” He helps her to her feet and makes sure her bulletproof vest is on right before handing her, her gun and watching her clip it on.

“Yeah, what happened?”

“The guards are down, Swat moved in as soon as we arrived, now we have to stand here and wait for them to clear the building,” Spencer explains as they walk to the front of her car.

She draws her gun and keeps it pointed low, guarded as they watch the front entrance for anyone to escape. “Do you know if Bahni is okay?” She whispers towards him.

He nods, “they radioed in that they got her, she’s being airlifted to the hospital with JJ right now.”

She nods with a deep breath, “okay good.”

“It’s going to be fine, we have enough SWAT here to take the government,” he tries to joke, getting a laugh from one of the officers… very strange to see someone laugh while holding an assault rifle.

One of the swat side steps towards Spencer, “I’m hearing on the line that they’ve cleared every room. They’re cuffing everyone, you’re free to enter.”

“Thanks,” Spencer replies.

The high-pitched screech rubber gripping asphalt in an attempt to stop draws their attention backwards. Elle and Rossi jumping out with their guns drawn, ready to join even though the exciting part is long over.

“No runners?” Elle asks, holstering her weapon. “Aw man, I was excited.”

“Not a one,” Y/N adds, watching the front entrance for the rest of the team to start funnelling out with the unsubs.

Luke exits first with a big smile on his face, Simon Garrett cuffed and barely stumbling out the door in front of him. He finally got him.

“well done,” Elle congratulates him. “Let me help you get him in SWAT van.”

“I think she has a thing for Luke,” Rossi leans into Y/N to gossip. “she wouldn’t stop asking about him on the drive…”

“Ooo,” Y/N teases, getting more and more tired as her adrenaline drops. Her eyes are heavy and Rossi can tell.

“Why don’t I bring you and the good doctor home, I don’t think they need all of us for the wrap-up,” Rossi pats her back. “You’ve had a long night, kid.”

“Thank you,” she smiles, holstering her gun and turning with him towards the SUV. “I’m so exhausted.”

“Well you’ve been on the job for almost 24 hours now, you’ve officially made it through your first overnight sting op,” Rossi congratulates her like he’s her grandpa.

She turns back when she doesn’t hear Spencer following her, “Spence? Are you coming?”

“Um,” he has something to ask as he follows then but he doesn’t say it. “Yeah, sorry.”

“It’s okay, come sit with me in the back?” She asks, sliding in beside him and resting her head on his shoulder as soon as their seatbelts are on.

“Did you still want to have a nap together?” He whispers, feeling her nod against his shoulder before she pulls back.

“Come here,” she tugs him in against her chest, snuggling in as best as she could in their sitting position. Holding him close and feeling him drift off in her arms. She has no problem following suit.

When she wakes, Rossi is parked outside of her apartment, “here you go, Y/N.”

She hums as she comes to, shaking Spencer awake too, “Spence, come on, let’s get to bed.”

“He’s going with you?”

She nods, “don’t tell Penelope. She’ll have a field day, I just want a nap.”

“You better get more than a nap,” Rossi orders. “You guys need to actually rest before you come back to work on Wednesday.”

“Thanks, Dad,” she teases him. “We will.”

“Bye Dave,” Spencer whispers as he gets out of the car. “Thank you for the ride.”

“Anytime kid,” Rossi waves them off, waiting for them to enter the building before driving away.

“Finally,” she sighs, dragging Spencer down the hall and towards her apartment. “I’m so fucking tired.”

“me too,” he barely says.

He follows her inside like a lost puppy, taking off his vest and shirt, slipping out of his pants until he’s in an undershirt, boxers and his mismatched socks. She’s amazed by how comfortable he is with her, but she has known him for 3 months, it’s enough time to fall in love with someone… right?

She’s loved him since she started working with him. When she realized he valued her opinions, he looked at her as a person and he genuinely loved her company. She felt a real connection with him, not just childish infatuation. He was everything to her.

She slides into bed beside him and snuggles in, wrapping an arm around his middle and resting her head on his chest.

“I guess I really can do everything,” she smirks.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

She pokes his chest and giggles away the awkwardness, “the thing I wanted to do most, the thing that I couldn’t do… that was to fall in love with you, but I did it anyway.”

“Well, then I guess I can do everything too.”

She pulls away to look at him, “I love you, Spencer. I don’t know if it’s too soon, but I’ve loved you for a while.”

He pulls her in for a kiss, shocking her as he breathes her in and holds her there. “I love you, more Y/N.”

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bitsandbobsofwriting · 3 years

Text

5 times Merlin noticed Arthur’s odd reactions to things,

+1 time he could start on the road to helping.

TW: Graphic descriptions of child abuse, claustrophobia, panic attacks/flashbacks/disassociating.

Merlin notices things. He always has done, ever since he was a child. Maybe it was the magic, maybe it was the ingrained fear of being snuck up on (as a Bastard child, as a citizen of Essetir, and as someone with magic) or maybe it was just some odd, innate skill. It doesn’t really matter: Merlin is observant, he has keen eyes, which is why he notices Arthur’s sudden change in disposition.

It was a normal afternoon, Arthur and Merlin had just gotten back from the first hunt of the spring and were filling The King in on how it had gone. Well... Arthur was, Merlin was just sort of stood there.

The servant was annoyed that Arthur had dragged him along, both to the hunt and to the meeting, but The Prince had been so excited (not that he showed it too much) at the prospect of telling his father how well everything went, he conceded easily. It was rare that Arthur got his father’s approval; Merlin had only been serving him for a few months, so maybe it was stupid of him to want to see Arthur happy, but oh well. He may be a prat, but he meant well and he loved his people, he deserved a little happiness occasionally.

Uther was in fact proud, and Merlin had better luck than Arthur at holding his grin in, though that changed quickly.

Arthur was looking out of the window and making casual comments on when he planned on going out next, and Uther, stepping quietly without even realising it, manages to move to the space just behind him without Arthur noticing. He claps a firm, but proud hand on Arthur’s shoulder, and if Merlin hadn’t known that Arthur would deny it later, he would accuse him of jumping a foot in the air. He turns around quickly, eyes wide and barely focusing as Uther gives his son another congratulations, as well as a terse “Make sure you keep it up.”

The sudden tightness in Arthur’s shoulders and his clear discomfort at having Uther so close do not go unnoticed by Merlin and he frowns, making a split second decision that could very well get him put in the stocks:

“Sorry to interrupt, My Lords, but The Prince mentioned wanting to join the evening patrol. Sir Leon and his partner will be leaving shortly.”

Uther whips his head around disapprovingly, and his anger at Merlin for interrupting whatever it was he was about to say translates to a tightened grip on Arthur’s shoulder. The Prince flinches slightly, but carefully steps away from The King, speaking before he can order the servant punished:

“Right you are, Merlin. If you’re happy for me to take my leave, father?”

Uther looks back to his son, confused, but approving of Arthur’s sudden eagerness to join extra patrols:

“Very well. I expect you to keep up the hard work, Arthur, I shall be disappointed if you start slacking again.”

Arthur nods and bows, but doesn’t say anything, his jittery demeanour getting worse with The King’s vaguely threatening tone. He walks stiffly from the room, and Merlin follows with a confused frown, making sure to keep his distance and step loudly on the stone floor; apparently Arthur was feeling jumpy today.

Arthur, still in his armour, leads them down to the courtyard where Sir Leon and another knight were indeed preparing to leave. The Prince doesn’t say anything to Merlin, simply nods in his direction before joining the others, and Merlin thinks he must have done the right thing if Arthur wasn’t shouting at him for giving him extra work that he hadn’t intended to do.

He stores this new, odd information in his mind for future reference, reminding himself to stay away from The Prince’s back and warn him of anyone approaching.

The next thing Merlin notices doesn’t come from a specific incident, more from a series of odd happenings over time.

When Arthur had been released from the dungeons after Merlin’s miraculous survival from being poisoned, he was a mess. At the time, Merlin had smugly suggested that it was because Arthur was worried about him; his hair was similar to a bird’s nest, as if The Prince had been running his hands through it and pulling it on a near constant basis, and the shirt he was wearing frankly stunk of sweat.

Arthur had rolled his eyes at that and slunk off to sulk in his chambers—once Gaius had assured him Merlin would be fine—and the young servant had taken that as confirmation.

The first time Merlin actually witnesses Arthur’s quick, shallow breath and wide panicked eyes, they’re rushing through the narrow servant corridors. The Prince’s grip on his sword looks uncomfortably tight and the sweat on his brow seems a little odd: they weren’t running that fast. Merlin figures that Arthur is just stressed out from trying to catch the sneaky arsehole assassin who was trying to do in as many councilmen as he could before getting away.

Which is an understandable thing to be stressed about.

Merlin only takes actual note of it when, after the assassin had gotten away, The King had demanded Arthur retrace his footsteps back through the castle to see if the criminal had dropped anything or hidden anywhere. Arthur practically freezes up at that, his wide eyes and pale skin making Merlin frown in confusion, only for his frown to deepen when Arthur stutters through his suggestion of having another knight lead the internal search whilst Arthur heads out into the city.

The relief on Arthur’s face when Uther agrees is, though brief and immediately hidden, immense.

Merlin thinks back on the state Arthur had been in after he’d quested for Merlin’s cure. Perhaps... perhaps Arthur had been such a mess because he had spent a night in the dungeons, and not because he had been worried about Merlin.

As much as Arthur might like to think Merlin’s an idiot, the servant makes quick connections, pieces things together easily, like a children’s puzzle. At least when it comes to Arthur.

The servant is also reminded of the way Arthur insists that Merlin leave a few candles lit in the evening. At first, Merlin thought it was because Arthur was sneaking out of bed to get more paperwork done (Uther may rarely see it, but Arthur works ridiculously hard), but he checked the paperwork one morning and nothing had been added or altered. Then he though that it was maybe so Arthur could see any attackers coming in the night, because he was paranoid like that, but the candles always burnt out after a couple hours anyway, so it wasn’t like they were lasting through the night.

Merlin figures he was probably just reading into things too much (plus, he knows that accusing Arthur of being afraid of the dark or tight spaces would get him nothing but a slap up the head and, depending on The Prince’s mood, a visit to the stocks), though Arthur refusing to stay in Merlin’s tiny bedroom for any longer than necessary, and insisting on multiple torches being lit whenever they ventured into caves, forces Merlin to reconsider.

It was after one such adventure in one such cave that Merlin took advantage of the castle’s funds being available to him, and heads down to the market to buy some larger candles (and if he cast a spell to make them last longer... well... no one needed to know). Arthur gives him an odd look when he walks into The Prince’s chambers that evening and begins setting up and lighting them without acknowledgement; Merlin answers his questioning hum without looking at him:

“I know you like to be able to see just in case attackers make it into your chambers: these ones should last all the way until the morning. I set up a standing order with a merchant in the lower town.”

Arthur frowns confusedly, knowing that no one had managed to sneak into his chambers in months; it was definitely odd that Merlin had suddenly decided that this was a good idea. Still, Merlin doesn’t look back at him as he casually moves around the room, lighting the new candles and hoping that Arthur wouldn’t notice him leaving the curtains open by about an inch. He notices, though he doesn’t mention it in his response:

“Hmm. It seems you’re finally putting that brain of yours to use, Merlin.”

Merlin finally turns to look at him, glaring half-heartedly as he sarcastically laughs. Arthur just grins at him, glancing at the strip of moonlight on the floor for only a moment before climbing into his bed, muttering for Merlin to go ahead and get an early night.

From then on, Merlin packs extra torches in his pack when they go adventuring, and if he has room, a candle, in case they end up in an inn. If Arthur notices any of that, or the fact that Merlin always opens the window whenever they’re in the tiny Physician’s chambers for more than five minutes and always keeps him company on the now-rare nights Uther is angry enough to lock Arthur in the dungeons... well... neither of them point it out.

The next odd reaction doesn’t happen until years later.

Of course Merlin keeps noticing Arthur’s aversion to surprise touch (especially from knights and his father) and general dislike of the dark/closed spaces, but dealing with it and adjusting to make things easier just sort of becomes part of their routine, without either of them really realising.

Arthur has been King for a few weeks when it happens. It's warm, too warm for armour, so the roundtable knights are practicing their hand to hand instead of using swords and shields. Arthur usually sits out for these lessons, teaching and observing from the side-lines as opposed to taking part in spars. Merlin had always thought it was odd, but the one and only time he had brought it up, years ago, Arthur had forced him to join in on the lessons. He had a lot of bruises that day.

But today was not a usual day apparently; Arthur joined in. He seemed reluctant at first, like he was unsure if he actually wanted to, but his first weeks as King had been going well and he’d had a successful meeting with some of his Lords the previous day, so he’s in a good mood. He finally caves when Lancelot offers to spar with him; there was something about the gentle man that just makes everyone in his vicinity feel a little more at ease.

The sun was shining, but heavy rain the previous week means the grass was bright and soft; all in all, it was a lovely day, but Merlin’s focus was still on Arthur and the way he and Lance dance around each other. All the knights were holding their strength back a little, the purpose of sparring is rarely to go all out, but practicing form and technique and footwork is always a good idea.

Arthur falls into the rhythm of the spar, dodging and side-stepping and blocking with ease, neither he nor Lance were eager to speed things up in the heat. He was moving automatically, running on instincts and just a little bit of adrenaline, which is probably why he freezes up when confronted with something so terrifyingly familiar.

A glint of sunlight off something metallic caches his eye, and his gaze moves away from the fight for barely a split-second, but when he looks back all he can see is shortly cropped brown hair, a bright red tunic, and a fist swinging for his face.

Lancelot yelps when Arthur doesn’t block like he had expected him to, and Merlin is sprinting over before The King’s head has even finished rocking to the side. The other knights go to crowd closer, worried for their leader, but Merlin waves them off harshly and they keep their distance, trusting him. Lancelot looks horrified, but dutifully steps back as Merlin puts one hand on Arthur’s shoulder and uses the other to tilt his chin from side to side.

Merlin’s frown deepens when Arthur just lets himself be manhandled. Even in his worst injuries he was reluctant to let people check him over; Merlin quickly notices his wide eyes staring vacantly and the breathing that was far deeper than it really should be. He tries to get The King to look at him as he speaks lowly, so the others can’t hear him:

“Arthur? You with me?”

Arthur gulps, blinking rapidly and meeting his gaze, though Merlin can tell that he still isn’t really seeing:

“I... I’m sorry, I... I didn’t mean... I wasn’t...”

Merlin can only just hear Arthur’s whispers, and he’s grateful for the fact that the others definitely can’t hear them. He moves the hand on Arthur’s shoulder down to grip the other man’s hand and squeezes, and uses the other to shield his eyes from the sun as he mutters:

“Arthur, it’s Merlin, you’re out on the training field with members of the Roundtable, it’s late Spring, and you were crowned King three weeks ago. Arthur?”

It’s only then that Arthur’s eyes come into focus.

Merlin has never been grateful to have the bones in his hands almost break, and he doubts he’ll ever be grateful for it again. Merlin’s squeezes back, digging his nails in just a little as a subtle “please don’t break my hand”. Arthur loosens his grip and Merlin raises his eyebrow slightly in question; the blonde groans slightly and lifts a shaking hand to rub his eyes:

“What happened?”

Merlin glances at the huddle of knights behind him and gives them a reassuring smile before he looks back to Arthur, speaking so everyone can hear:

“You took quite the well placed hit from Lance, got a mild concussion and lost yourself for a minute. You’ll probably be fine by this evening, but I want to get you in the shade just in case, ok?”

Arthur seems surprised at the explanation, but nods wordlessly, letting Merlin guide him up towards the castle without a fuss. That just worries Merlin more, and he speeds up slightly as he yells over his shoulder:

“Leon’s in charge!”

Leon just chuckles, knowing that Merlin wouldn’t be paying them the slightest bit of attention if Arthur was even close to being seriously injured, but Gwaine just tilts his head and frowns:

“I love the guy but since when does Merlin decide who’s in charge? If he had said Elyan was in charge would we have just... gone with it?”

Leon shoves him playfully and tells him to get back to work, giving Lancelot a comforting pat on the shoulder as they all look away from the servant-King duo.

Merlin doesn’t take Arthur to the physician’s chambers, but goes to The King’s bedchamber instead; Arthur wasn’t actually concussed, but his mind had been elsewhere for a moment, so much so that he hadn’t recognised Merlin and spoke to him as if he were someone else. He sits The King down on the edge of the bed and kneels in front of him, hands on his knees as he frowns:

“Arthur? Still with me, or gone again?”

Arthur takes in a sharp breath, making eye contact with Merlin again as he straightens his back and answers confidently, his voice wavering only slightly:

“Yeah, yes, I’m with you. Sorry, lost in thought. I don’t feel concussed, are you sure?”

Merlin nods and stands up, leaving Arthur on the bed as he moves to open the window and get him a goblet of water:

“Hmm, I lied, I don’t think you are either, you weren’t hit that hard to be honest, but you weren’t really... with it, thought it best to get you away from the others.-”

He turns around the see Arthur tense and angry-looking, though Merlin gets the distinct impression that it’s not aimed at him:

“-You probably just got dazed by the hit, that and you’re overtired, you’ve been staying up late the last few nights. Drink this, maybe have a nap, or at least stay out of the sunlight for a few hours, you’ll definitely be getting a headache at some point soon and I don’t want you to make it worse.”

He hands over the goblet of water, holding it slightly out of Arthur’s reach so the other man has to stand for it. He manages to stand on his own two feet with no issue, and the shaking in his hands is lesser than it was before, though not gone entirely, so Merlin makes a mental list of all the chores that he could finish here, in Arthur’s presence. The King drinks the water absent-mindedly, leaving the goblet on the side table as he mutters:

“Overtired... yeah, probably.”

He wanders towards his desk, collapsing in the seat and staring half-heartedly at the paperwork spread all over the place. Merlin relaxes slightly, deciding that maybe there was a reason Arthur never joined in on hand-to-hand.

Merlin wasn’t fond of Arthur’s current visitor, Lord Algere, but he was pleased to note that Arthur didn’t seem all that fond of him either. He was an old supporter of Uther’s, which meant the occasional snide remark about how Uther would’ve handled certain situations differently, followed by deferential admissions of being “a close friend and advisor to the former King.”.

He was just friendly and kiss-ass enough that he couldn’t be kicked from court, that Arthur still had to be polite to him, but he rubbed pretty much everyone up the wrong way and Merlin couldn’t wait until he left to go back to his estate, thankfully situated on the furthest edge of the Kingdom.

It's the day before he’s due to leave when he says it:

“You remind me of your father a great deal, you know, you’re very similar.”

Arthur freezes up at the so-called compliment, but recovers quickly, giving the Lord a tight smile before excusing himself so he wouldn’t be late for the city border patrol he was undertaking. Normally Merlin didn’t go with him on these patrols, he’d only be gone for a couple hours at most and he was joined by a partner; it gave Merlin time to finish up some chores, but the servant felt the need to be there today.

The King is silent the entire time, which is unusual considering he's riding alongside Sir Leon today, and those two always have something official to talk about. He doesn’t even spare Merlin an annoyed glance when the servant drops his bag and has to dismount to pick it up, only halts and waits for him to catch up again. Though he's sure The King had relaxed slightly at the beginning of the patrol, when Merlin mentioned that he fancied tagging along, and if Merlin weren’t so worried he’d be immensely proud at his apparent ability to put Arthur at ease.

Leon gives Merlin a worried grimace as they ride back into the citadel, but Merlin shakes his head and smiles, his meaning of “I’ll deal with it, I’m sure he’s fine” obvious in the action. The two of them have gotten quite good at silently communicating over the years, God forbid Arthur find out that they were trying to look after him.

They made the journey up to Arthur’s chambers in continued silence, though Merlin really starts to really worry when Arthur just wanders over to the window and stares down into the courtyard. He only does that when he’s feeling particularly pensive. Merlin lays out the work he knows Arthur had wanted to get done this afternoon and perches on the edge of the desk, facing Arthur’s back with his arms crossed:

“Arthur, you alright? You’ve been quiet.”

Arthur nods, but doesn’t turn away from the window, staying silent. Merlin purses his lips, but it doesn’t take him long to figure out what he thinks might be wrong. He moves across the room and sits himself down at the dining table, casually starting on the polishing he had left there earlier as he speaks, trying to keep his tone as neutral and absent-minded as possible:

“I’ve no clue what Algere was talking about earlier, he either knows nothing about you, or didn’t know your father nearly as much as he says he did.”

Arthur finally turns from the window, fixing a curious frown on Merlin, who forces himself to keep his gaze down:

“What makes you say that?”

Merlin still doesn’t look up, but knows that he’s on the right track. Arthur has been able to admit, especially recently with his changing opinions on magic, that his father was not a good man, though he still struggles to admit that he wasn’t a good father:

“Well, from what I’ve seen, you look way more like your mother than you do Uther, and you don’t act like him at all, you haven’t picked up on any of his mannerisms or anything.-”

The servant finally looks up at Arthur, his words true but his nonchalance false as he continues with a confused frown:

“-To be honest, I’ve always thought you act more like an odd mix of Leon and Morgana. You’ve definitely got Leon’s sense of chivalry and respect and his knightly traits, but your... how do I say... fiery attitude when it comes to your sense of right and wrong, that’s definitely Morgana. Uther was quick to anger, you’ve got fairly good control of your anger nowadays. Uther was set in his ways and refused to change no matter the consequences, you bend traditions all the time, improve things in ways that Uther would never have dreamed of doing.-”

The servant shrugs and looks back down to his polishing:

“-I just don’t see the similarities, and I certainly know you better than Algere. I’ve a feeling I knew Uther better than Algere as well.”

Arthur hums non-committedly, but sits down at his desk instead of turning back to the window. Merlin feels the tension leave his shoulders, but doesn’t relax fully when he notices Arthur staring at his folded hands instead of working. Apparently it had only partially worked:

“Arthur?”

He doesn’t look up, just shuffles slightly in his eat as he lowly answers:

“Do you think I might... turn out like him? In the end? People say he was kind and gentle when he was young. If... if I ever have children...”

The question goes unasked, but the fear in his voice is palpable, and Merlin has to stop himself from sprinting from the room to burn every painting of Uther he can find. Instead, he puts the armour down on the table softly and stands, making sure to step loudly and clear his throat as he leans against the edge of Arthur’s desk again:

“Arthur, you’re a wonderful King, a wonderful knight, a wonderful man, and I guarantee that one day you’ll be a wonderful father. Don’t stress, you’ve out done your father in every other aspect of your life, I’m sure you’ll continue to do so.”

Arthur looks up at Merlin with a slight frown on his face, though it’s more thoughtful than anything. Merlin holds his gaze with a soft smile for a few moments, content to wait for Arthur to give him some sort of cue; Arthur just rolls his eyes and shoves him from the table, picking up a quill and finally beginning to actually work:

“Try not to insult the former King too much in one sitting, Merlin. And that armour won’t polish itself.”

Merlin just laughs quietly and moves back to the table, understanding and accepting that that was probably the best he was going to get. He makes a mental note to mention Arthur’s similarities to Leon next time the three of them are together; Arthur will be relieved, though he won’t show it, and Leon will be flattered beyond words.

He dares not do it with Morgana. Both of them would be secretly be pleased, though they’d kick up one hell of a fuss trying to deny it.

Thankfully, the two of them are in Arthur’s chambers when it happens.

Merlin’s not entirely sure he could use the “concussion” excuse like he did last time, not with the length of time it lasted.

It’s late, the curtains are drawn—with the traditional inch wide gap allowing a strip of moonlight to fall across the floor and over Arthur’s bed—and Arthur’s special candles have been lit. He’d been made aware of the spell Merlin had cast on them a few months ago, and though he was annoyed that Merlin had put himself at such risk, he hadn’t asked him to remove the spell, which the servant took as a good sign (both that Arthur wasn’t too mad about the magic, and that it had been a good idea).

The King sits at his desk, doing his normal pile of evening paperwork and trying to fit in as much as he can before Merlin snatches it away and manhandles him into bed, Merlin who is generally pottering around the room tidying. Arthur thinks of it more as just... moving the mess around, but he let’s him be; Merlin’s quiet company is much appreciated, especially with all the difficulties Arthur is having with repealing the ban on magic.

The King lets out a deep sigh, sitting back in his chair and tiredly rubbing his eyes. Merlin notices, because of course he does, and wanders over, a concerned frown on his face as he sits in the chair opposite him:

“You alright? Hit a snag?”

Arthur hums but shakes his head, opening his eyes but staying slumped in his seat; Merlin makes plans to get him to bed at some point in the next half candle mark at least:

“Hmm. No, just tired. This whole thing is draining, I wish I could just force them to see sense.”

Merlin knew that the them Arthur speaks of is the council. Currently, The King has about half of them on side, not including Leon, Morgana, and Gaius, but they need a majority by a significant margin before they can move forward, and Arthur refuses to act in any way that isn’t democratic.

Merlin nods, smiling softly at his lap as Arthur closes his eyes again:

“This is what it means to be King, Arthur,-”

At first, Merlin doesn’t notice the way Arthur’s eyes fly open, nor the way he slowly sits up straight, nor the way his shoulders tighten and his skin grows pale and his eyes go vacant.

“-but I think you’re doing great, don’t be too hard on... Arthur? Are you alright?”

Merlin frowns when he finally looks up to see The King sitting ramrod straight and staring into the middle distance, his breathing ragged and his blue eyes glassy and unseeing. He stands slowly, moving around to Arthur’s side to crouch there and wave a hand in front of his face.

He doesn’t react.

Merlin shakes his shoulder slightly, hesitating only momentarily before touching him, but even then, Arthur doesn’t respond. The servant gulps, glancing over his shoulder at the door to make sure it was locked before touching a hand to Arthur’s forehead and muttering a spell; he normally uses this spell to wake up unconscious people, but it has no effect on The King other than sending a slight shiver through his body.

Merlin calls his name a few times, but it expectedly has no effect. He tries to test Arthur’s pain awareness by pinching the underside of his arm, and whilst he flinches away slightly, he doesn’t come to, still stares blankly at the opposite wall. Merlin thinks of calling for the guards and asking for Gaius, but somehow he doesn’t think the elderly physician will be able to help; there was no magic at play here, and he certainly hadn’t been poisoned. In all honestly he just looked a little zoned out, like the time Merlin had lied about the concussion, except it was clearly lasting longer this time.

Merlin frowns but tries his best to keep the panic at bay, it had only been a few minutes now, but other than breathing Arthur hadn’t moved an inch.

The servant takes a deep, relaxing breath, or at least what he hoped would be a relaxing breath. It’s not. He uses magic to slide Arthur’s chair away from the desk slightly, and moves into the space it leaves, shuffling all of the paperwork away and leaning on the edge. Once again, he puts one hand on Arthur’s shoulder, and takes his hand with the other, squeezing slightly.

He waits.

After another ten minutes or so, Arthur’s breathing gets slightly more frantic, and he begins squeezing Merlin’s hand back. Merlin moves closer, crouching in between Arthur’s legs and shaking his shoulder again, but he stops when Arthur begins muttering:

“Didn’t... I... I’m sorry. Not my.... didn’t... didn’t mean to... sorry... disappointment...”

Merlin’s frown deepens at the barely audible whispers, especially when he notices the tears gathering in Arthur’s eyes. He shakes his shoulder again and forces himself to speak, just about managing to keep the waiver from his voice:

“Arthur, there’s no one else here, it’s just you and me, it’s just us, just Arthur and Merlin. It’s the evening in late Autumn, it’s almost time for bed, you sparred with Percival this morning and had a long, annoying council meeting this afternoon. You’re sat at your desk in your chambers with me, no one else.”

Arthur’s eyes come into focus, slowly at first and then all at once. He blinks and stands suddenly, almost tipping his chair backwards in his haste as he reaches a hand to his sword-less hip. Merlin moves back quickly, grimacing as he bumps harshly into the desk. Arthur’s gaze whips around the room desperately, as if searching for a danger that he was certain was there, before his eyes finally land on Merlin. The servant holds his hands out placatingly, not relaxing even as Arthur takes a deep breath and seems to calm down.

The King slumps back in his seat, rubbing the tears from his eyes with shaking hands; Merlin crouches down again, but doesn’t dare touch him, not quite yet:

“Arthur?”

His head whips up, but he relaxes again when he sees Merlin sat in front of him:

“Yes, sorry, I... must of dozed off or something.”

Merlin frowns, but nods one, speaking slowly, his tone low and even:

“Hmm. Must’ve, you looked like you were having a nightmare or something so I woke you. Time for bed, I think.”

For once, Arthur actually agrees with him, not bothering to argue like normal as he stands on shaking legs and heads to where Merlin has neatly laid his sleeping clothes on the bed. Merlin’s concerned gaze follows him, but he doesn’t move too far from the desk, deciding that he and Gaius definitely need to have a chat about... whatever the hell that was.

Half a candle mark later, Arthur is quietly wishing his manservant a good night and dismissing him. He was obviously distracted, Merlin normally can’t be frowning for more than thirty seconds before The King is hounding him about what’s wrong, but thirty minutes pass with not a question from Arthur, and Merlin makes his way to the Physician’s Chambers hoping that Gaius is still awake.

Thankfully, the elderly physician is still pottering around, tidying away various bits and pieces and generally preparing the room for a new day tomorrow. He immediately notices Merlin’s peculiar mood and gestures for the younger man to sit opposite him at the table:

“What’s bothering you, my boy?”

Merlin sits slowly, biting his lip and trying to decide just how honest to be:

“What does it mean if someone... zones out, completely, for extended periods of time?”

Gaius raises an eyebrow:

“I’m going to need a little more than that, Merlin.”

Merlin huffs but nods, shuffling in his seat slightly but responding:

“I was with someone earlier today. We were just chatting whilst we worked and suddenly they just... weren’t there anymore. Stiff, eyes glazed over, ragged breathing. They responded slightly to pain but it didn’t snap them out of it and they just... sat there, utterly blankly, for about twenty minutes. Eventually they started muttering to themselves, but it didn’t make any sense, then they... woke up, I guess, and thought they had fallen asleep. They definitely weren’t asleep, but they weren’t... I don’t know, conscious?”

Gaius frowns but nods, clutching his hands tightly on the table as he explains, his voice grave:

“Hmm. Sounds like an extended disassociation episode. I gather that I’m not to be told who this was?-”

Merlin shakes his head slightly, and though he looks slightly annoyed, Gaius nods and continues:

“-This happens mostly to people who experience something extremely traumatic, though it also happens in victims of extended abuse, especially if the abuse was in childhood, the younger the victim, the worse the reaction. Occasionally it can happen randomly, though it’s mostly triggered by something in their surrounding environment.”

Merlin’s frown deepens, and Gaius would easily hazard a guess at saying he looks angry. He doesn’t point it out though, just waits for his ward to continue:

“What can trigger it? And what other symptoms will child abuse victims display?”

Gaius takes another deep breath, but slowly responds:

“Anything can be a trigger really, something they see or smell or hear, something someone else does or says.-”

(”This is what it means to be King, Arthur,-” pops into Merlin’s head.)

“-As for other symptoms, aversion to touch, occasionally fear of being alone, OR fear of being in another’s presence. Some experience trouble with regulating strong emotions, difficulty in regulating long term relationships, platonic or otherwise, trouble with self-esteem. It varies from person to person, there is no strict list of obvious signs. Might I ask... why?”

Merlin shakes his head and stands, moving towards his bedroom with clenched hands and tight shoulders. Just before he shuts the door behind him, he turns to look at Gaius over his shoulder, brow furrowed and voice low:

“What... what was Uther like? When Arthur was a child?”

Gaius closes his eyes briefly, letting out a weary sigh and trying his best to hold in his grief:

“Strict, extremely difficult to please. He never... he never hit Arthur, not in public anyway, though it wouldn’t surprise me if he was violent privately. As a child, The Prince was terrified of the dark, and the dungeons. I got the impression that Uther forced him down there on more than one occasion. Arthur is... the one your concerned about?”

Gaius knows the answer, but it doesn’t stop the tears from welling in his eyes when Merlin wordlessly nods before shutting the door behind him.

+1)

A few weeks have passed since Merlin had figured it all out.

He didn’t dare bring it up to Arthur, and shuts the conversation down any time Gaius mentions it. The conversation is for Arthur, and Arthur only, and Merlin wasn’t going to force it.

Besides, they’ve been extremely busy with the transitions; The Kingdom was going from anti-magic to pro-magic, and Merlin was going from servant to a member of court. Arthur had tried to force nobility onto him as well as his position as Court Sorcerer, but Merlin had put his foot down at that, insisting that he wouldn’t become some stuck up wealthy arsehole, not even if his life was on the line.

Gwaine, Elyan, Percival, Gwen, and Morgana had grinned at that, Arthur and Lancelot rolled their eyes, Mordred continued to insist on calling him “My Lord” anyway, and Leon had looked marginally affronted as he mumbled something along the lines of “I’m a Lord you know, technically.”.

They aren’t lucky this time around, and it all comes to an explosive head in a quiet, though still habited corridor in the middle of the afternoon.

Afterwards, Merlin absent-mindedly considers the fact that they could’ve been in the courtyard or the throne room or somewhere equally busy, and thanks the Gods for just this little bit of luck; only two servants, one guard, and the... the noble and his son were in the corridor at the time.

Arthur and Merlin are making their way to the council room, preparing themselves for a busy meeting: it was the first since magic was officially legalised, and the first that Merlin (and Gwen, though that was another matter entirely) would officially be sitting in on. Though, in all honesty, pretty much the whole Kingdom knew that Merlin had been advising Arthur privately for years.

Merlin frowns and Arthur stiffens slightly as they spot the noble gripping his young son’s collar and aggressively whispering at him. The boy can’t be more than ten summers old, but the tears in his eyes display his utter terror clearly enough; no child should ever have to be that scared, especially not of their parents. Merlin resigns himself to just magicking the pig’s trousers down when no one was looking his way, but barely a second after he makes that decision the man raises his hand, and slaps the boy across the face.

Everyone in the corridor freezes as the boy cries out, and the noble doesn’t seem to notice the way the guard looks frantically between him and The King, waiting for instruction, or the way the servants and Merlin were staring, horrified. Arthur breaks out of his shocked stupor first, striding towards him with his fist already raised and his eyes blazing:

“How fucking DARE you?!”

His knuckles make violent contact with the man’s mouth, and the spray of blood from a busted lip and loosened teeth is what spurs Merlin into action. He runs forward, scooping the distraught boy up in his arms and quickly handing him over to one of the servants:

“Take him to Gaius, swear that you will not utter a word of this to anyone bar the Court Physician?”

His eyes flash golden as the servants’ both nod, and they rush off in the direction of the Physician’s chambers. Merlin, satisfied that they will be unable to break their promise, turns next to the guard, momentarily ignoring the way Arthur has shoved the bleeding noble against the stone wall:

“Fetch the Lady Morgana and Guinevere and tell them to go to Gaius and the boy, stay with them, swear that you will inform no one bar those three what has happened?”

The guard nods, understanding the magic implicitly as Merlin’s eyes flash gold again. He spares The King and his deserving victim one last glance before running towards Morgana’s chambers.

Merlin turns, finally, to Arthur, almost-but-not-quite recoiling at the tears on his cheeks as he lands another punch to the noble’s jaw. His face is black and blue at this point, and Merlin pulls Arthur back just as he raises his fist again; he thrashes in his grip, but quickly sags as his breathing deepens. The noble falls to the floor, unconscious in all likelihood, and Merlin clicks his fingers, banishing him to the dungeons with nothing but a shower of golden sparks.

Arthur breathes deeply, leaning all of his weight on Merlin as he clamps his un-bruised hand over his mouth, his wide eyes staring intensely at where the boy had been stood moments before. He doesn’t respond to Merlin’s calls, and with another flash of gold, they disappear, reappearing in Arthur’s bed chamber.

Merlin shoots Mordred a quick message over their mental link as he lowers Arthur to the floor, leaning him against the edge of the bed and moving around to be crouched in front of him. The King’s breathing has gotten dangerously deep and dangerously fast, the tears streaming down his face as his hands clench and unclench around nothing. Merlin quickly intertwines their fingers in an effort to stop Arthur hurting himself, but that just freaks the other man out even more as he desperately scrambles to get away from the contact.

Merlin lets go and moves back, eyes wide and desperate as he watches Arthur bring his knees up to his chest, burying his head in his arms and rocking slightly. His cries are muffled, but Merlin can still hear the heart wrenching sound; the Warlock takes a moment to breath before he stealthily moves around the room, lighting candles, locking the door, and shutting the curtains (bar an inch), before moving back to sit beside Arthur, a foot or so of space between them.

After a few minutes of no change, Merlin starts humming. He can’t remember any of the words, but it’s an old lullaby his mum used to sing when he couldn’t sleep, when he was scared of his own magic and his own friends and every shadow that moved in the dark. Arthur’s breathing slows, though he still hiccups occasionally, and Merlin rests his hand on the stone floor between them: an offer, not a demand.

Arthur doesn’t take it, instead shuffling over to lean his head on Merlin’s shoulder. Merlin freezes, not daring to put his arm around the other man as he continues to hum; he must’ve circled back and restarted the same song six, seven, eight times before Arthur nuzzles in further and sniffs before muttering:

“You’ve a good voice, Merlin.”

Merlin huffs a gentle laugh, leaning his head on top of Arthur’s softly as he quietly replies:

“Runs in the family, my mother used to sing to me, though I don’t really know any other tunes I’m afraid.”

Arthur nods, but doesn’t reply, turning into Merlin’s chest slightly as the Warlock hesitatingly wraps his arms around the other man; he stops being so hesitant when he notices Arthur’s eagerness. Merlin pulls him close, sighing but letting Arthur settle in before he says anything. In the back of his mind, he’s aware of the pain shooting up his spine at being sat on the stone floor for so long, but he decides he doesn’t really care, if this is what Arthur needs.

After a few more minutes, he rubs his cheek into Arthur’s soft hair and speaks, his voice gentle and loving:

“Feeling better?”

Arthur stiffens slightly, but quickly relaxes, nodding into Merlin’s chest and mumbling:

“The boy?”

Merlin smiles at Arthur’s worry:

“Safe. He’s with Gaius, Morgana, and Gwen, under protective guard.”

Arthur nods again, tightening his hold on Merlin’s tunic:

“And his... father?”

“Bloodied up and locked in the dungeons, far away from his son. Mordred let the guards know that he is not to leave under any circumstances, told the council that the meeting had been postponed until further notice, and then went to relieve the guard in the Physician’s chambers.”

The King relaxes, and so does Merlin, though only slightly, he knows that this is where that terrifying conversation has opportunity to rear it’s ugly head:

“Arthur, are we going to talk about this?-”

He rushes to carry on when Arthur’s breath hitches and his hands pull on Merlin’s tunic slightly:

“-You can say no, Arthur. I swear, I will never, ever ask, not if you don’t want me to.”

Arthur doesn’t relax, but he shakes his head, gulping before replying, his voice thick:

“No, it’s fine, I should probably... talk about it, right? Morgana is always on my arse about being less repressed or whatever.-”

Merlin nods, but doesn’t say anything, stroking his fingers through Arthur’s hair rhythmically. Arthur lets out a deep breath, humming contentedly at the gesture and leaning even more into it:

“-My father was... difficult to please. His default was anger, no matter what, and it was... rare, for him to be anything but furious. He never... not in public, and never left marks where anyone could see.-”

Merlin struggles against the urge to hit someone (preferably Uther, though unfortunately he was dead. He supposes Uther’s old supporters would do in a pinch), but he makes do with taking a deep breath:

“-When he was especially furious he would lock me in a storage closet, or the dungeons. He... he would order that all the lights be put out, and all the windows covered, so I couldn’t see. Merlin I couldn’t see anything. I still... I can’t stand the dark, but I’m guess you figured that out?-”

Merlin knows that he’s referring to the candles and the perpetually open curtains and nods, humming in agreement:

“-How pathetic is that? A grown man, a King, afraid of the dark.”

Merlin tightens his grip on Arthur and shakes his head:

“It’s not pathetic, Arthur. It’s an automatic response, a defence mechanism that your brain puts in place to try and protect you from being re-traumatised. To this day, I’m terrified of fire, even though I have no reason to be anymore, even though it can’t hurt me as a Dragon Lord.”

Arthur gulps, but relaxes slightly, though his voice is quiet, almost ashamed as he continues:

“I can’t look at Lancelot’s turned back, I struggle to spar with him as well. He... he doesn’t even look anything like my father, he just... he always wears red and has the same hair as my father when he was younger and they’re the same height. Sometimes I feel like I’m a child again, everything around me just disappears and I’m back in that dungeon, or my father is stood over me screaming. How am I meant to be a good King when I’m scared of my own shadow?”

Merlin sighs, staying silent for a few minutes as he attempts to put an answer together in his mind. Arthur sniffles again, and Merlin is suddenly made aware of the wet patch where Arthur’s head rests on his tunic:

“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, as many times as you want: you are a wonderful King. You’ve delivered a Golden Age upon this Kingdom, your friends love you, your people adore you. You’ve never just been a good King, Arthur, you’ve been the best this Kingdom, and this world, has ever seen.”

Arthur loosens his grip again but huffs a quiet laugh against Merlin’s chest, which the Warlock definitely counts as a win:

“Kiss-ass.”

Merlin laughs this time, though he doesn’t stop carding his fingers through Arthur’s hair:

“Nah, when have you ever known me to kiss ass? I speak only the truth, My Lord.”

They both fall silent again, and Arthur pulls away from Merlin’s chest. Merlin drops his arms immediately, not wanting to make the other man uncomfortable, but Arthur just takes one of his hands and goes back to sitting by his side, his head resting on Merlin’s shoulder. The silence is long, but comfortable, and it’s dark outside by the time Arthur speaks again:

“Merlin?-”

The Warlock doesn’t make a sound, but squeezes Arthur’s hand in acknowledgement:

“-I thanked you for all the big stuff: saving my life, and saving the Kingdom, and all that. But I never thanked you for the small stuff. The candles and the endless support and the excuses.”

Merlin frowns slightly in confusion, not that Arthur can see:

“Excuses?”

“You didn’t think I didn’t notice, did you? You started years and years ago. You always seemed to notice when being with... with my father, or the knights, or anyone really, was getting too much, you always had some excuse ready. Sometimes you outright lied, even if it would get you in trouble, just to get me away from people. I don’t know how you knew... no one else ever realised. Saying I had paperwork when I didn’t, or a patrol when I wasn’t scheduled for one, or a concussion just to give me some privacy. Thank you.”

Merlin smiles slightly, squeezing Arthur’s hand again:

“You were too busy looking after everyone else, someone had to look after you. I’m grateful it was me, Arthur, I-”

He pauses and sits up slightly straighter, though it doesn’t jostle Arthur too much. He lifts his head anyway, staring at Merlin in concern with tired eyes:

“Merlin?”

Merlin looks to him suddenly, but smiles:

“Hmm, sorry, just Mordred. Updating me on the kid and asking if you’re alright.-”

Arthur’s cheeks flush slightly, but Merlin’s smile grows as he shakes his head:

“-Don’t worry, no one knows about... this, just that you went berserk when you saw a Noble beating his kid, and punched his teeth out.”

Arthur relaxes and nods, humming thoughtfully as he looks to the floor. He stands up, wobbling only slightly after being curled up in the same position on a cold stone floor for several hours, and Merlin follows him confusedly:

“Do... do you want to go check in on them? The kid’s been asking after you apparently, wants to thank you.-”

Arthur looks conflicted, almost as if he were worrying that he wouldn’t actually be welcomed, so Merlin puts a hand on his shoulder and smiles, waiting until Arthur looks at him before continuing:

“-We can leave it until morning, if you like, but you saved that boy, Arthur, there’s nothing to worry about.”

Arthur nods, but doesn’t move until Merlin wipes his face clean with his sleeve and smooths out his clothes. If he uses a little magic to make the two of them more presentable, then neither of them mention it as they walk purposefully to the door.

Merlin looks to Arthur stood next to him, his hand hovering over the door handle:

“Ready?”

Arthur smiles at him, taking his hand and squeezing it, but not dropping it as he opens the door and steps into the corridor:

“Ready.”

THE END!!!

As angsty as it was, I really enjoyed writing that😅. I couldn’t help myself though, I had to give it a happy ending :D

I hope y’all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!! I love y’all!!

My Ko-Fi, which is where I post sneak peeks of upcoming works, check it out and consider donating!!

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ushiwakatrash · 3 years

Text

Calling them by their names (Dekusquad)

A/N: I love this trend on tiktok where you call your lover by their real names instead of endearments! I think it’s really cute and sweet uwu

!Warnings!: Cursing, suggestive implications (slightdom!Deku)

Bakusquad

----

Midoriya Izuku 緑谷出久

Cinnamon boyfriends are so fun to tease. People outside your relationship saw the both of you as complete opposites, you were confident and quite loud and you barely got injured unlike your green-haired boyfriend who would break bones every 10 seconds.

He was quiet and sweet and was always a nervous mess when he’s with you even if you’ve been dating for a year now. But let’s say... Deku isn’t as sweet as everyone thinks he is.

“Hey Midoriya, Aizawa-sensei told us to partner up for this assignment. Your room or mine?” you smiled sweetly only to be greeted by a nervous wreck of a boy. “S-sure, puppy. Anywhere you want”

You inched closer to his face before tilting your head “What’s wrong Midoriya? Do you feel sick?” Now the boy was on the verge of tears, lips clearly quivering. “What did I do to make you mad, puppy? C-can you tell me so I can fix it?”

Your precious cinnamon roll was almost in tears and it was clearly your fault. It felt like you were even a bigger jerk than Bakugou ever was (and that says a lot). You quickly tackled your sweet broccoli to the ground while rubbing your cheek against his.

“I’m sorry baby! I just wanted to try calling you Midoriya to see how you’d react! Don’t cry!” Deku sat up and positioned you to straddle his lap. With a firm grip, he slightly squeezed your cheeks in one hand and made you look at him.

“I-Izuku?” He chuckled lowly “My puppy’s becoming quite the prankster. I think I need to put you back in your place.” He carefully set you down and stood up by himself. A single stern command slipped out of his mouth before he started walking away.

“Come.”

Iida Tenya 飯田天哉

THIS MAN DOESN’T EVEN FLINCH. Both of you have been tasked to clean the common area of the dorm this weekend “Iida, help me lift the couch please!” He drops what he’s doing and immediately goes to help you with a smile.

“Hey Iida, do you think yellow curtains would be better than green ones?” You raise the cloths in your hands and he leans closer to them to inspect further. “I think yellow ones would make the place look lively, darling. Choose that one.” He pats your head and continues vacuuming the carpets.

You just stand there, slightly pissed that he isn’t reacting the way you want to. He finally asks about it “By the way love, you like calling me by my last name now?” desperate to rile him up, you reply with a slightly sassy “Yeah I do”

You thought it would finally be time for his forehead to crease but instead, he let out a small chuckle “Alright” kissing your forehead and again returning to his share of chores. “Oh c’mon babe, you/re just gonna accept it just like that?!”

There he goes with his robot hands “Of course! You must know by now how much pride I have in the Iida family name, Y/n!” You mentally facepalm I FORGOT HOW MUCH OF A PRIDEFUL MAN THIS NERD IS!

You got and koala hug him because he may be a nerd, but he’s your nerd. “You’re such a nerd, but it’s cute, you human car” you kiss him on the cheek but he grabs your arms and forces you to sit on the couch.

If you think you’d both get down and do freaky freaky, then feel free to dream. The rest of the afternoon was spent with Iida explaining how his engines were WAY better than those of cars.

That pet name had never been said ever since that day.

Todoroki Shouto 轟焦凍

Classes ended today like the usual, only, tomorrow Aizawa had promised the class one HELL of a quiz because they were a tad more rowdy today. Aizawa’s quizzes sure weren’t for the everyday, normal student so you really had to study.

You weren’t at the bottom but you were 3 places lower than your boyfriend Shouto. Walking together back to the dorms and hanging out in either of your rooms for a few hours have been a routine since you became a couple.

Today’s destination was the tatami room so both of you could sit and relax on the floor while studying together. How Shouto managed to transform his room into this was always the biggest mystery to you.

“It’s really amazing how you remodeled this room Todoroki. All i know is that you really did have to work hard for this to look like the one you have at home” your chuckles died down as you noticed that he didn’t respond, not even a glace was sent your way.

You tapped his shoulder “Hey, I was talking to you Todoroki” You pout and he gives and innocent look as if he really didn’t hear you. “Sorry, I thought I heard wrong” Maybe you should try again now that his attention’s on you.

He checked his phone from time to time and maybe he had received updates on his hero costume. “Did the tech department send you updates on your costume?” “Yeah, but they only adjusted minor stuff Angelpie”

You choked on your own saliva and maybe it was you who misheard this time. “Excuse me, WHAT?” “Why, is there a problem with it, Honeysnuggles?” Your toes start to curl up at the names your half and half boyfriend had started to call you.

In one swift swipe, you snatch his phone from his hands only to reveal that he was on the internet searching for cringey and weird pet names. You faced him again and saw him having such a smug look on his face “I guess this wont be happening again right, Snookywooky?”

You could only scream Endeavor-style.

“SHOUTOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

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lokiskitten · 3 years

Text

Tom Hiddleston | nice acting skills

Pt2 : the changing room

Tom Hiddleston x fem!reader

Author’s note : I never originally planned to write a second part but I was being held at gun point so here’s pt2 of the “nice acting skills” imagine KSKSK

plot : after going through this rather peculiar moment, you unexpectedly bump into Tom in one of the changing rooms. From there, things take an unexpected turn.

warnings : smut ( with /legal/ age gap ), unprotected sex, extremely light and discreet spanking.

You were pulled out of your daydream session again by the exhaustingly familiar sound of the director throwing around new orders, setting you and Tom free from set as this scene didn’t necessarily needed to be filmed twice. You were now sent off to the makeup and costumes room which was located nowhere far from the place you currently sat. Tom wasn’t meant to be changing nor getting ready in the same room as you did, which was totally understandable due to the fact that you didn’t share the same gender nor age. He therefore took a different turn than you did, feet leading him to the left as you were accompanied on your right.

You were allowed in your personal changing room, the makeup lady arranging her stencils which laid on the table before the mirror. However, she suddenly seemed to remember about an important detail which she seemingly needed to be getting on the instant. You were therefore left alone with nothing but the costumes and cold cup of tea to keep you company. Sighing tiredly, you sat down on the chair which faced the mirror, eyes falling on your own tired reflexion. However, you were now able to hear the sound of the door opening again, a forced smile appearing on your lips as you expected this person who just walked in to be the makeup artist.

“Did you find what you’ve been looking fo-“ you began, eyes diverting upwards only to land onto Tom’s familiar yet unexpected silhouette. He closed the door behind himself, leaning against the wall as his strong arms crossed against his bare chest. You were now trapped with him. However, it was far from being a bother. But your naturally strong mindset forced you to put up a mask and pretend as if his naked upper body wasn’t something which disturbed your mind and senses. “Oh, it’s you.” You spoke bluntly, trying you best to hide any emotion which could’ve been a threaten to your reputation as a young and serious lady.

Tom smirked. “Yes, it’s me.” He answered, his deep voice which carried a beautiful British accent rolling off his tongue perfectly. It never failed to make your heart and crotch melt. Finally getting up from the door, the older man slowly moved towards your seat before his veiny hands decided to take ahold of the leather material. His ocean blue eyes stared at your reflection in the mirror, yet he wasn’t making eye contact but simply admiring how beautiful your body was. Gently, his hand moved up to your hair which he dragged back behind your ear, fully revealing your beautiful face to him.

“You’re beautiful.” He affirmed, making sure to regulate both his voice and tone in order to guarantee that he would look as attractive as he possibly could- even tho he wouldn’t have needed any of these forced artifacts to seduce you or anyone else. You had caught him red handed through his game, though- again- it was far from being a bother. In contrary, you enjoyed it. However, the little voice in your head couldn’t help but beg you to deny his offer whilst the other part of yourself desperately wanted you to give in his flirts. Your body easily became a battlefield for those two separate opinions to fight and argue endlessly.

Face to your lack of answer- and that mostly because you were lost in your thoughts- Tom tilted his head before moving his hands down to the opening of your robe, gently starting to pull on it in order to reveal your bare chest. However, your own hand was soon to move up to his wrist and take a firm hold of it, asserting dominance and stopping the older man through his track. Face to this hostile move, the actor couldn’t help but grow confused. He frowned and accepted to respectfully pull his hand away. “Do you not want this? I beg your pardon, I thought you shared those same feelings which previously took possession of my body.” Tom explained, referring to how he felt whilst shooting the infamous scene barely a couple of minutes ago.

“No no, I do.” Your responded, your main priority being to make sure that he wouldn’t feel like he was in the wrong nor inappropriate. You finally agreed to get up from the chair you have been sitting on, still unfortunately remaining shorter than your screen partner who towered above you. “But isn’t this... not such a good thing? I mean, I always hear people brag about not mixing your love life with coworkers.” You explained, remaining aware that Tom surely didn’t work that way, which was easily noticeable if you bothered to take a look at the female casts from the movies he’s played in and link it all up with his never ending list of ex romantic partners.

Upon noticing that he didn’t seem to truly pay attention to your words, but more to your face, you stopped yourself through your speech. He was adorning those flirty eyes of his, which no woman could potentially resist to. No matter how hard you fought, in the end, you’d always fall for him. “Can you- stop looking at me like that, with your eyes and.. eyebrows.. and all of it.” You ordered, hands gesturing towards his face. Hearing those satisfying words, Tom accentuated his facial features game. “Looking at you like what?” He responded, slowly moving closer to your body until his hands could finally wrap around your waist. It felt like a huge victory to him.

Before you could know it, Tom’s lips pressed against yours, the man offering you a genuine and intense kiss which honestly resembled the ones he’d give you on set. But for now, this didn’t matter. All that mattered was that you were sharing a wanted and needed moment with your screen partner. His hands moved down from your cheeks to your shoulders, pushing off your robe which fell off your body with ease. Unlike him, you didn’t adorn any form of underwear and was therefore left naked for the older man to cherish and enjoy. The kiss progressively intensified, both of your lips parting in order to allow each other’s tongue to come in.

As he embraced your figure, Tom slowly started to push you towards the nearest wall, the two of you stumbling upon a couple of objects before your back could finally collide with the hard material. You moaned against his mouth, knee moving up to his hip which allowed you to feel his hardening bulge against your sensitive core. Your clit was throbbing, begging for sexual satisfaction coming from the man. Feeling your leg suddenly raise against his hip, Tom’s hand moved underneath your thigh and made sure to hold it up there, offering you some free support so you wouldn’t have to carry the heavy member on your own.

Tom cared a lot about the feminine pleasure- probably more than he did care for his own- which would surely guarantee you a good time spent with him during this early afternoon.

Upon feeling that you were now wrapping your arms around his neck, Tom decided to take the initiative to pull his boxers down- setting free his hardening member which had yet to grow to its full size. He was now able to fully pick you up, hands wrapped underneath your thighs in a cautious manner. His tip wouldn’t stop colliding with your soaking hole, visibly begging for entrance without ever truly daring to cross the step. Thankfully, you knew that Tom had always been a very determined man who usually reached out for the stuff he wanted instead of waiting for people to give it to him.

Therefore, it didn’t take long for him to carefully sit you down on his cock, being able to feel that you were now wet enough to painlessly welcome in his prominent member. You guys moaned together, his forehead pressing against yours as his girth was progressively coated with your love juices. Once he reached balls deep, the actor decided to take a couple of seconds in order to allow you to adjust to his size, ocean blue eyes looking up at your face which he admired and praised more than anything in the world at the moment.

Kissing your lips, Tom began to move again, hips gently and cautiously thrusting forward and retracting backwards repetitively until he felt like he could now fasten his pace. Meanwhile, you found yourself lost through pleasure and bliss, forehead firmly pressed against his as you decided that it would probably be wiser for you to keep your mouth shut and avoid to attract anyone else’s attention. Besides, you only wanted and needed his. Moaning out loud would’ve been a great risk to take as the two of you remained aware that you were in a studio filled with thousands of working people. Therefore, Tom regulated his pleasure by wincing and hissing silently whilst you decided to carry on humming sensitively.

Your arms remained wrapped around his neck as he carried on pleasuring your cunt as well as his own member, lips praising your neck which in some way also helped him through the restricted moans process. His girth rubbed past every single sensitive spot of yours, g-spot going wild and swelling out of pleasure due to the man’s perfectly appropriate actions and mannerisms. However, and without giving you a warning, Tom suddenly pulled out in order to flip you around- you chest now facing the wall as you were soon to understand that your job was now to bend over for him. His arms had probably grown tired of carrying you, which you acknowledged and understood.

Before he decided to bend you over, his large hands moved up to your breasts from behind your back, caressing and squeezing them with a lot of lustful care before he retracted his hand back to your spine, pressing his palm against your flesh and forcing you to slightly bend over. There wasn’t much space between you and the wall, which therefore only allowed you to fold a little bit. Your own palms collided with the wall as Tom’s hand caressed all the way down to your bum, giving the flesh a gentle slap before allowing his digits to take ahold of his own girth. He guided his tip to your entrance again, taking time through his actions to make sure that he would execute them properly and painlessly. Even through lust, Tom remained a gentleman.

Feeling his hardness slide inside of you again made your legs tremble, yet Tom made sure to hold you up by giving your hips a gentle and reassuring squeeze. The muscles he had developed through the intense hours spent at the gym contracted as he began to move in and out of you as you tried your best to once again remain silent and discreet. Though, a couple of moans eventually had to escape your lips. Tom shushed you respectfully, giving your bum a light spank which stood as a punishment face to your risky behavior. Yet you refused to complain, smile appearing on your parted lips as the older man continued to pound your core.

Eventually, his hips began to stutter, thrusts gaining in sloppiness which was due to his nearing orgasm. This once Tom didn’t manage to hold back his own moans, hums and groans escaping his lips as he respectfully pulled out right before white strings of sperm could be projected against your cervix. Instead, the thick liquid landed on your back, staining your flesh. “Fuck..” he praised, taking a deep breath in before exhaling loudly. His hips continued to gently rock against yours, shaft rubbing against your upper bum as Tom wished to fully get over his orgasm.

You were left emotionally shattered, body still recovering from the intense amount of emotions and sensations which had previously taken possession of your body- brain still attempting to figure out wether this was right or negative for both of your careers.

Y’all asked : I deliver. I hope you managed to enjoy it! Requested tags : @lokis-leah @marianastudiesart @fa-me @lokistoriesblog @sunshineyrosie @delightfulheartdream ❤️

[ Every single share/comment/like means a lot to me as a writer! Please never doubt that! I acknowledge and praise each one of those interactions as they also help to motivate me. Love you guys💜 thanks for the support. ]

#loki #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson fanfic #loki laufeyson fluff #loki laufeyson imagine #loki laufeyson smut #loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson x you #marvel #marvel imagine #tom hiddleston oneshot #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston smut #tom hiddleston fanfic #Tom Hiddleston fluff #Tom Hiddleston

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harry-on-broadway · 3 years

Text

Ever Since New York

Chapter One: Plant New Seeds in the Melody

Rating: M || Word Count: 5.2K || Series Masterlist

Author’s note: I was a Broadway fan long before I became a Harry fan so it only made sense to combine my favorite things for my first fic. Thanks to @sunnyville36 for being my sounding board, copy editor, and hype woman! I hope you all love Greta and Harry as much as I do.

New York had all the iridescence of the beginning of the world.”

– F. Scott Fitzgerald

It was the kind of New York City morning Greta Alcott had been dreaming about for nearly two years.

A crisp December morning. Cool, dry air. An empty table in the back garden of her favorite coffee shop, a pumpkin scone and decaf latte with her name on it.

Live theater was back in the city and so was she after fleeing the confines of the concrete jungle -- and a painful breakup -- the day the pandemic shut Broadway down. In a span of 20 minutes on an average March afternoon, her boyfriend Thomas broke up with her right before she got the phone call that a new virus was taking her livelihood away from her as well.

She’d spent the past 20 months bouncing between quarantine pods and film sets, but instead of finding solace in her work as she usually did, she’d just cultivated more uncertainty in her life. She’d always been known as “the actress” and thought that was what she wanted to do with her life, but in the early, dark days of the pandemic as she watched first responders, teachers, and others help others, and her fellow unemployed performers find new hobbies and passions, she’d started to wonder what her purpose was without Thomas and theater in her life.

And now, she was back in her beloved city preparing to take on the leading role in a new, original musical. Yet something was off. Her coffee didn’t taste as strong, the air wasn’t as crisp as she remembered, and she couldn’t focus on the book in front of her.

“Hey girl!”

Greta looked up to see her friend, Dillon, and roommate, Kendra, walking towards her, coffees in hand. They both looked so happy and Greta forced herself to match their energy. “Hi,” she said, pulling her canvas tote off the chair next to her.

“How are you feeling,” Dillon asked, as he sat down and pulled off a piece of Greta’s scone. “You’re meeting him today, right?” He turned to look at Greta. “I can’t tell if you’re happy-nervous or scared-nervous. Talk to me.”

Greta sighed.

“I think a happy nervous, but I’m honestly not sure,” she said, chewing at her lip. “Like I’ve been waiting for this for so long, but something just doesn’t feel right. I thought I’d be happy to be back, but I just feel empty. Like should I even be doing this? Is this the right move for me? Am I at the right point in my life to be doing this?”

“Greta, you’ve been nominated for a Tony three times and just finished filming several movies. You’re hot stuff and the producers know this,” Kendra said. “Most people saw their star wane during the pandemic. Your star just got brighter.”

“But what if it’s not my career I’m worried about,” Greta said. “What if it’s other stuff?” She paused, stirring her coffee.

Dillon and Kendra stared blankly. “Greta, you’re going to need to connect the dots for us,” Dillon said.

“During the pandemic, it seemed like everyone had some sort of breakthrough. They figured out what their calling is or that they wanted to spend the rest of their life with their partner. Or they had a baby! But I just sat in a house upstate. And then I worked. It wasn’t even work that I was crazy about!”

“Woah,” Kendra said, putting her hand on Greta’s shoulder. “No need to spiral. This musical is going to be amazing for you. It’s your Dear Evan Hansen moment: You’re going to win a Tony and make a ton of connections and set the foundation for the next decade of your career.”

“But what does that matter if I’m alone and unhappy?”

Silence filled the air and Greta bit her lip trying not to cry. Between her work and quarantining with friends, she hadn’t had a moment alone during the pandemic yet the loneliness was crushing. For a long time, she thought Thomas was the one for her and, after he received an Oscar nomination for his first major film role, she had recurring dreams of the two of them being Hollywood’s next power couple, with magazines and Instagram gossip accounts posting pictures of the two of them gazing lovingly into each others’ eyes on a red carpet. But with increased exposure came more women, and right as the world was falling apart, Thomas decided he’d rather be with some model he’d met while filming a cologne ad. They were now engaged with a baby due any day, while Greta spent her evenings online shopping with her cat, contemplating her purpose in life.

“Greta, you’re not alone. You have us,” Dillon said. “And, if you want, you can have your hot co-star too. He’s single, right?”

Greta laughed. Andrew Augustino, her leading man, was Hollywood’s latest it-boy trying to use theater to help establish himself as a seasoned actor. He had experience on the Disney Channel and had in recent years transitioned to working in independent films that had been reasonably well received. He seemed nice enough from what Greta could tell in their brief meetings, but she wasn’t wowed by him -- as a performer or a person.

“Are you all meeting up today?” Kendra asked.

“Yep. His manager and mine are taking the two of us to lunch.”

“Oooh! Chaperones on the first date are hot,” Dillon said, shimmying in his seat. “It helps build the sexual tension.”

“Yeah, I really don’t feel any sexual tension with him,” Greta said. “But maybe something will change,” she added, trying to press down the existential dread she felt in her chest. She went to take another sip of coffee when her phone buzzed.

Greta, change of plans, the text from her manager, Lisa, read. Last minute conflict. Andrew’s out. Don’t worry. Producers found a better fit.

Who? Greta texted back.

Harry Styles. See you in 45.

Greta audibly gasped.

“What’s wrong?” Kendra asked.

“Andrew’s out of the musical and they replaced him with Harry Styles.”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP,” Kendra and Dillon screamed, earning scowls from the elderly couple at the table behind them.

“He’s so hot,” Dillon said. “I’m calling it now. You all are going to fall in love. Or at least have really hot sex in your dressing rooms.”

“OK, but can he act?” Greta asked, pointedly ignoring Dillon’s last statement. “Andrew was kind of boring but at least we knew what he was working with. Casting Harry Styles is just a cash grab. They know people will pay money to see the boybander with name recognition or whatever.”

“First of all,” Kendra said, “he’s a Grammy-winning musician who’s been in several movies.”

“We’ve only seen one of them,” Greta countered.

“Two,” Kendra countered. “That Marvel film.”

“He was in it for all of five seconds!” Greta exclaimed. “Doesn’t count!”

“Dunkirk was Oscar-nominated,” Dillon chimed in. “That means it was good.”

“Ten minutes in a Nolan film doesn’t make you an actor,” Greta said, finishing her coffee and standing up. “I’ve got to bounce.”

“You know what this reminds me of?” Kendra asked, eyes gleaming. “When you first met Thomas and thought he was so annoying. I believe ‘annoying asshole’ was the phrase you used?”

“Yeah,” Dillon said. “How many years did you date the ‘annoying asshole,’ Greta?”

“I hate you both,” Greta said as she grabbed her bag.

“I want full details tonight,” Kendra yelled as Greta walked back towards the coffee shop, rolling her eyes. “I need to remember everything for my toast at the Alcott-Styles wedding.”

Across town Harry Styles was trying on his third outfit of the morning. He usually didn’t put this much thought into his clothes when he wasn’t working, but this coffee had him in a tizzy. A Broadway musical hadn’t been in his plans, but after wrapping two movies and a tour, he was looking for a new project. A sudden casting change in a new modern-day adaptation of Pride and Prejudice resulted in an opening and when the producers approached him about joining the cast, he figured why not, especially since Jeffrey reassured him that it would be easy to leave after a few weeks of performances if he changed his mind.

He didn’t know why this meeting with his new co-star had him so nervous. Singing live on stage was what he did, and acting was nothing new either. The dancing was hit or miss, but he really thought he had a handle on choreography at this point in his career. He didn’t know much about Greta Alcott, the woman who would be sharing the stage with him, except for what Jeffrey had mentioned: She booked her first Broadway show at 19, earning a Tony nomination for that role and several others. She had done some work in film and TV as well, starring in a miniseries that everyone had seemingly watched during quarantine.

But he had no idea who she was as a person. In his decade-long career, he’d had the chance to rub elbows with all sorts of people working in entertainment and he felt like he, or at least someone he knew, knew a little about everyone. But Greta was an enigma. No one seemed to know her or the circle she traveled in. The most interesting piece of info he managed to scrounge up was that a friend of her ex-boyfriend who worked at his record label said Greta was “wicked smart,” having juggled college classes while doing a show eight nights a week.

And maybe that’s what had him so nervous. He had no idea what she would think of him. He knew he was well liked among his peers in the industry, and consistently worked to make sure that impression didn’t change. He never wanted to be that asshole who forgot where he came from and failed to treat people with the respect they deserved. This anxiety he felt building in his chest wasn’t related to that though.

This felt more like imposter syndrome.

He’d always been aware of the snide comments about singers who thought they could act too, but tuned them out knowing that his few film and TV appearances had been positively received and that most importantly, he was proud of his performances. But live theater, especially a new, original musical, was something else. This is what real actors did. This wasn’t a two week stint playing Billy Flynn in Chicago. He would be originating a character and his name would forever be associated with it. If he was terrible, that would be remembered too.

He closed his eyes and tried to steady his breathing. He opened them once again and looked at the clothes he rejected earlier that were spilling out of his suitcase, trying to find a suitable option that would communicate he was a serious actor, yet also true to himself. He picked a vintage t-shirt at random, and pulled on his favorite pair of ripped jeans when his phone chimed. It was Jeffrey.

Meeting starts in 30, H. I’ll meet you there.

Harry sighed, picking up a cardigan and pulling his favorite baseball cap on his head. He picked up his phone and his key card. Ready or not, this was happening.

Greta was, as usual, 20 minutes early. She always tried to get to meetings at least five minutes early, never wanting to be the cause of a delay, but somehow consistently overestimated the amount of time it would take her to travel to any given place.

The maître d' had escorted her to the private outdoor table the foursome would be dining at, and finding herself with nothing to do, Greta pulled a book from her tote, figuring a few minutes of reading would both be productive and calming. She was turning the page to start a new chapter, when a soft, accented voice interrupted.

“Are you Greta?”

She looked up and found herself staring into a pair of eyes unlike any other. First glance told her they were green, but she couldn’t be sure. She was frozen in her seat.

The owner of the eyes looked at her expectantly and only then did she realize he’d asked her another question.

“Sorry!” she exclaimed. “I didn’t catch that.”

“S’no problem,” the man said. “I just asked if you were Greta and what you were reading.”

“Oh! Yes, that’s me, and it’s just a book that comes out next year. You must be Harry.”

“The one and only,” he said, grinning. “Nice to officially meet you.”

“What’s the protocol here,” Greta asked. “Hug or handshake?”

“I’m good with a hug if you are.”

“Sounds good.”

The two stood and embraced in the restaurant’s courtyard and Greta tried to ignore the fluttering in her stomach. When they sat back down, silence permeated the air as Harry looked at her expectantly.

“Oh um,” Greta said, stumbling over her words as she realized it was her turn to talk. “Do you like to fish?”

Harry looked at her searchingly, trying to figure out where the question came from until Greta gestured to his hat, which bore the phrase “If You Ain’t A Fisherman, You Ain’t Shit.” He chuckled nervously.

“Not really. Found it at a vintage shop and thought it looked cool.” He started twisting one of the rings on his left hand.

“Oh, you like vintage?” Greta asked. “Have you found any time to visit the shops in the city? There’s a great selection.”

“Um not really,” he replied. “I’ve been busy with work and stuff.”

“Oh, yeah. I can imagine prep work for the show is keeping you occupied. I can’t imagine coming in like this at the last minute.”

“Well, it’s mostly been album stuff. You know, trying to figure out when we want to release it, putting the finishing touches on promo plans and such. They haven’t even given me the music for the show yet.”

“Huh.” Greta clicked her tongue and fiddled with the dust jacket on her book.

“What? Did I say something wrong?”

“No. I figured this was to be expected.”

Harry blinked, suddenly concerned he’d made a severe misstep. “What does that mean?”

Greta sighed. “I just figured that someone with your lack of experience might spend a little more time working on the job at hand and not working on something months away.”

“It’s not months away. We’re releasing it right around the time the show opens. I figured I’d--”

“Oh that’s what this is,” Greta shook her head. “I was right. You’re just using this show as part of your rebranding promo stuff while the producers recoup on their investment since Harry Styles’ fans will follow him everywhere.”

“Ok that’s a little unfair,” Harry said, brow furrowed. “I hope you don’t think I’m treating this like some joke. I’m fully committed and part of the team just like you.”

“What’s your prep schedule been like? Have you started running lines?”

“I’ve definitely read the script if that’s what you’re asking. Haven’t run my lines yet but that’s part of my strategy.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I had an acting coach tell me once to only say my lines for the first time when the camera starts rolling.”

Greta’s jaw dropped. “What the actual fuck is that kind of advice?”

“A professional's? And it’s worked pretty damn well so I think I’m going to stick with it.”

“Oh that’s right! I forgot that ten minutes in a Nolan film and a Marvel post-credits scene means that you’re a professional actor!”

Greta didn’t know where this attitude was coming from, but she suspected it was a coping mechanism for all of the stress and anxiety she was feeling.

Harry shook his head. “I can’t believe it. Are you actually trying to gatekeep the theater industry?”

“No, I’m just trying to protect the only thing I have in life from getting fucked up by some guy who thinks he can make it through a full Broadway musical by whipping his tits out and shaking his ass when he forgets a line.”

They both paused, seemingly acknowledging what Greta said.

“What the fuck does that mean?” Harry asked, trying not to smile.

“You know,” Greta said, stumbling over her words. “When you’re doing one of your concerts and you mess up, you can just do a little dance and unbutton your jacket and the girls go wild because you’re hot.”

“You’ve seen my shows?”

“Like clips on TikTok and Instagram. You’re kind of hard to avoid. It’s annoying.”

“And that part where you said I was hot?”

“I did not say that.”

“You kind of did.”

The two stared at each other for what felt like an eternity until their managers sat down.

“Oh look at you two!” Lisa exclaimed. “Getting along OK?”

“Marvelously,” Harry said with a slight smirk.

Greta took a sip of the water glass that had appeared in front of her. This was going to be a long lunch.

Later that night Harry laid in bed tossing and turning, his mind racing. He was already nervous, but knowing Greta questioned his motivation to do the show only amplified his concerns. If she felt that way, did the rest of the cast? What about the director? He only did a quick audition with her and thought it went well, but what if she and the producers did only want him because he was Harry Styles? It wouldn’t be the first time someone had used him for his name. What if he was bad? Should he have asked Jeffrey to run lines with him? What if he forgot how to sing? The scenarios were endless. But he was sure of only one thing. Greta Alcott was kind of cute. Especially when she was angry.

The next morning, Greta stopped at her favorite coffee shop to grab a drink before rehearsal. After placing her order, she moved to the corner of the store checking her messages while waiting for her drink. Kendra and Dillon had each sent GIFs and “Break a Leg!” messages to the group chat they shared, and she had multiple texts from different cast members, each expressing their excitement that today was the day. Greta smiled to herself. The first day of rehearsal always felt like the first day of school, saying hi to old and new friends and breaking out new highlighters and pencils.

“Good news?” a familiar voice asked.

Fuck, Greta thought to herself. She looked up from her phone only to be greeted by Harry’s bright eyes above his mask.

“Just some messages wishing me good luck.”

“Ah yes,” he said, sidling up to her. “One can never have too much luck.”

Greta realized she should extend an olive branch and initiate conversation, especially after her combative attitude at lunch. “How’re you feeling? Get a good night’s sleep?”

She could see him purse his lips under his mask. “Um, yeah. A little bout of nerves kept me up, but I got a couple of hours.”

“That sucks. The nerves usually hit me before opening night.”

“Yeah, well, it doesn’t help when your highly respected and very talented co-star not only calls you talentless, but also accuses you of phoning it in.”

Greta’s cheeks burned. “I didn’t call you talentless.”

Harry shook his head. “Sure felt like it.”

“Listen, I’m really sorry,” Greta said. “What I said to you yesterday was out of line and I apologize. But you have to understand where I’m coming from. The theater community is really close. And we’ve been through a lot the past year-and-a-half. So many people lost their jobs and didn’t have a decade of boy band royalties to fall back on. Shows opening up again is a huge step and we’re only going to be able to keep the lights on if everyone is committed to putting in 110% effort. And that’s not something that frequently happens with celebrity stunt casting.”

“I understand and I appreciate your apology,” Harry said. “But, are you included in that statement? Because you do realize you’re a celebrity too, right?”

Greta made a face. The concept of celebrity was so foreign to her. Working primarily in the theater granted her the right balance of attention and anonymity. She was occasionally recognized by theater students when she wandered around the theater district before or after shows, but when she left midtown she was still able to head to her local bodega in leggings and no makeup, blending in with the rest of the city.

“I’m not a celebrity, I work in theater,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“Ha!” Harry let out a hearty laugh. “That’s good. I’m going to have to use that one.”

“Decaf skim latte!” the barista called. Greta moved to get her drink, but Harry was faster, grabbing it and a straw from the counter and passing it to Greta. She looked at him questioningly.

“I saw you drank your coffee with a straw at lunch yesterday. Figured you wanted one. Ready to go?”

“Don’t you need to wait for yours?” Greta asked.

“Didn’t order one.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Saw you waiting in line and I couldn’t pass up another opportunity to annoy you. That’s what you said yesterday, right? That I’m annoying?” He grinned, dimples popping behind his mask.

“Shut up,” Greta said, laughing softly. “Are you planning to walk as well? It’s 20 blocks.”

“A walk sounds divine,” Harry said, moving towards the door.

The two made their way to the rehearsal space in companionable silence, Harry occasionally asking Greta a question about a restaurant or store they passed. He wasn’t in New York frequently, and his trips often felt rushed and crowded. He never had the opportunity to explore, usually sticking to the places his friends frequented and the ones that granted him some modicum of privacy. But walking through the city with Greta, he saw it in a new light. She seemed to know everything and everyone and her familiarity with her city reminded him of what he saw in London.

When they arrived at the studio, he opened the door for her and they made their way to the elevator, where they were greeted by several of the other cast members. High pitched squeals came from the group as they embraced, exchanging shouts of “So nice to see you!” and “You look amazing!” It was clear they were all friends, or at least acquaintances, and their friendship made Harry feel a little left out. As each of them finished talking to Greta, they began to awkwardly gawk at Harry, seemingly unsure of how to interact with the international rockstar that had joined their ranks.

“Everyone, this is Harry,” Greta said, clearing her throat. “Please don’t scare him. He’s a little skittish.”

“Only when loud noises are involved,” he said with what he hoped sounded like humble confidence.

“Honey, you are in the wrong place,” Tanya, the dance captain said. “Theater kids can’t help but be loud. Welcome, though! Make yourself at home,” she said, extending her hand.

Harry exchanged pleasantries with Tanya and the others, as they all griped about how slow the elevator was. When it finally arrived the group packed in and as the doors closed, he found Greta’s eyes, sending her a silent “Thank you.” She nodded, happy to have helped, and hoping that her act of kindness made up for her behavior yesterday.

When the doors opened, everyone dispersed, finding their labeled seats at the table. Today’s rehearsal would consist of a read through of the script, and a run through of the songs with a practice recording. The cast would practice with live musicians at the sitzprobe in a couple of weeks.

As the two leads of the production, Harry and Greta were seated next to each other. As they took their seats, others came over to wish Greta well and introduce themselves to Harry.

As he said his hellos, Harry couldn’t help but watch Greta set up her space. She pulled her script, which was organized in a thin binder from her bag, and placed it on the table. Next came a selection of pencils, highlighters, and a pink glitter gel pen. Finally, a water bottle and some lozenges, placed to the right of the binder, and her latte, which she placed to the left.

He took out his own script and pencil, and silenced his phone.

“Good move,” Greta said. “Maybe you’re not an ametuer after all.”

She smiled, and Harry felt his stomach flip. “Thanks,” he said softly. Before he could say anything else, Nina, the production’s director, walked into the room, and the company began to applaud.

“People, people, calm down please,” she said. She sat at the head of the table and looked around. “It’s so wonderful to see each one of you in the same room once again. Let’s get to work. Tim, start with Act One, Scene One, please.”

As the stage manager began to read the stage directions, a focused energy took over the room. Everyone locked into their script, not wanting to miss their cues.

From the moment she said her first line, Greta felt a sense of calm wash over her. She was in the zone, and moments like this made her think this was actually what she was supposed to do with her life. The words flowed naturally as she got deeper into character, testing different intonations and finding new emotional beats. So, when Harry uttered his first line, she was thrown.

She had expected him to stumble over his words, simply read the lines with little expression, relying on Nina to give him guidance rather than doing the character study himself. But, what she heard was the complete opposite. He was assured, speaking clearly and with emotion. He was a natural, and she felt her cheeks grow hot as she remembered her harsh judgement from the other day.

The table read continued without incident. The cast laughed often and Nina was generous with praise, often muttering a “Yes!” or “That’s it!” when someone gave a line delivery she liked. Greta felt herself opening up, slowly turning to look at Harry as they shared scenes, feeling both pleased that he reciprocated the action and alarmed by how lightheaded his intense eye contact made her. At one point, it felt like they were the only two in the room.

About three-quarters of the way through the show, they came upon the pivotal scene in which Harry and Greta’s characters would kiss. In Greta’s experience, these things were usually handled with a sense of humor during the table read, with leads swapping a kiss on the cheek or blowing a kiss across the room. Oftentimes, if Greta and her partner were comfortable, they might exchange a brief kiss on the lips while the sound of hollers and wolf whistles filled the room. She wondered what today would bring, as she moved closer to Harry.

He lifted his eyes from his script and moved closer to Greta, shifting his body and placing his hand on the back of her chair. Their heads moved closer together, and Greta started to pull her mask down.

“OK, we’re actually going to hold there,” Nina interrupted. “We’re going to wait and run this scene with the intimacy coordinator, just to make sure both of you are comfortable. Why don’t we skip ahead to page 95?”

“Sounds good,” Harry muttered, shifting back to his seat.

“Yep, works for me,” Greta said softly, her eyes lingering on Harry as she adjusted her mask.

“Great work today, everyone,” Nina said, as they finished the final scene. “I am so unbelievably excited to be working with each and every one of you, and can’t wait to get down to business when we start blocking tomorrow. Greta, thank you for taking on the role as our unofficial leader, and thank you, Harry for joining us at the last minute. I think I speak for everyone here when I say you two make a great pair. I can’t wait to watch this chemistry develop.”

The room erupted into applause and whoops of joy as Greta kept her eyes glued to the table and Harry fiddled with one of his many rings.

After a few more announcements, Nina dismissed the cast with a reminder that rehearsal began promptly at 9 tomorrow morning. Harry stood up and began to make his way around the room, introducing himself to cast and crew members who’d slipped by him during earlier introductions. Greta packed up her belongings, casually looking at him as he made his way around the room.

“He’s a looker, huh?”

Tanya sidled up to Greta. Nearly a decade older than Greta, the two women had become fast friends during Greta’s first musical nearly seven years ago. Greta thought of Tanya as an older sister, guiding her through the ins and outs of the theater industry. And like any older sister, she knew when Greta was attracted to someone.

“I mean, I guess,” Greta shrugged off Tanya’s comments. “He’s fine. He’s nice,” she said, her voice rising an octave.

“You can’t fool me, sweetie. You can’t fool any of us,” Tanya said, shaking her head. “I can totally see why they brought him in like that. That must have been some chemistry read.”

“We didn’t do one.”

“WHAT?”

“Yeah, I found out that he was joining like 20 minutes before I was supposed to meet with Andrew. Today was our first day reading together.”

“That was your first time? If you two don’t end up together after this, something is wrong with the universe.”

“Well, I can tell you that we’re not going to end up together.”

“Why not?”

“Because he’s Harry Styles the Rockstar, and I’m Greta Alcott the theater actress who’s not even sure she wants to do this anymore.”

“Honey,” Tanya said gently. “Not this again.”

Tanya was well aware of Greta’s dilemma, having frequently talked her down, reminding her that she had what many performers strived for: steady work, yet a semblance of normalcy. She knew Greta often longed for more, wondering if she was meant to do something more, but tried to remind her that she didn’t need to have her entire life figured out at 25.

“I know I have no idea what I want in life, but I know it’s not him,” Greta said, hoping she sounded more convincing than she felt. She put the last of her items in her bag and looked up at Tanya.

“Whatever you say sweetheart,” Tanya said, moving to say goodbye to one of the dancers.

Greta hustled to the exit, waving to others as she passed, looking for Harry to offer him some parting words, and another apology. As she reached the doorway, she saw him step into the elevator, alone, checking his phone.

Even though she had been adamant in her denials earlier, at that moment, she couldn’t deny how much she wished she was in that elevator with him.

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