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waitimcomingtoo · 4 years ago

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In Case You Don’t Live Forever

~sixth chapter rewritten~

Pairing: Peter Parker x Venom!reader

Synopsis: you are Peters greatest love and Spider-Man’s greatest enemy

Series Masterlist

Two months later, you sat outside The Daily Bugle and impatiently bounced your leg. While waiting to see if your boss liked your first draft of the Cleatus Kassidy article, you reflected on your past two months in New York.

It was now June. You and Venom had fallen into a routine. You’d work on the Cletus article by day and go patrolling at night. Of course, being Venom wasn’t a nightly occurrence. You’d only go out eating once or twice a week. Still, you managed to have 11 run ins with Spider-Man.

You and Peter had become significantly closer in that past two months as well. You’d help him with his homework, though you secretly thought he was smarter than you, and he helped me with your story. Some nights, he’d visit you on your fire escape and watch the sun go down. You had no idea how he got there, but you didn’t care.

You’d send him science puns while he was at school and he’d bring you food and keep you company when You had writers block. Your favorite was the long talks on the roof. You would sit there for hours and tell each other everything. You knew all his secrets and he knew yours.

Well, not all.

But the best part of all was that every now and then, you’d catch the other staring. Then, the other would stare back until someone, usually Peter, started to lean in. Every time you thought you were finally going to take the next step, something would interrupt you. Whether it was May knocking or Ned barging in or Peters phone ringing. That was another thing about Peter. His damn phone was always ringing and then he’d have to dash off somewhere, leaving you with a random excuse or something about an internship. Sometimes, you’d wish he’d just throw his phone aside and kiss you already.

“Great work so far, L/n.” Your boss tore you away from your thoughts. “I knew you’d be right for the job.”

“Thank you, Mr. Jameson.” You stammered as you stood up. “I really appreciate you giving me this job. I was kinda blackballed back in San Francisco.”

“I know.” He shrugged. “But you ask the hard hitting questions that people want to hear. Once this article is out, I want you to write one on Venom.”

“Venom?” You gulped at her name.

“Yeah.” He nodded. “You know that scary black monster that’s been fighting Spiderman? I’m thinking an exposé on that menace webhead and his latest enemy, and I think you’d be perfect for the job.”

 “I would love to.” You said quickly. “I’ll start researching right away.”

With that, you turned on your heel and left the building before Venom caused a scene.

“Monster?” Venom roared once you got in your car. “Scary?”

“I know.” You whined. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know he was gonna call you that.”

“His whole job is reading about the most dangerous criminals in New York. If he thinks we’re scary, what’s Peter gonna think?” Venom asked. You laughed in dismissal until you thought about what he said.

What would Peter think? What if you told Peter who you really were and he ran away? He was sweet and understanding, but how understanding could he possibly be when you tell him you can turn into a flesh eating monster?

That’s when you realized you were scared. You were scared of letting Peter in and him letting himself right out. You were scared of repeating the mistakes you made with Andy. No, not scared.

Petrified.

What if Peter didn’t like what he saw? What if he realized you were too messy to be with? Or had too much baggage? Peter deserved a nice girl. One with a normal family and friends. One without depression. One without a flesh eating symbiote attached to their immune system.

“What’s wrong baby?” Venom asked with concern. She cuddled around your neck and nuzzled into your cheek.

“I can never be with Peter.” You whispered, mostly to yourself. Hot tears of frustration filled your eyes so you looked up to keep them from falling. Admitting it felt like a fatal blow to the stomach. Venom tied your hair up with one of her arms and wiped the tears from your face.

“Why do you say that?”

You thought about it for a moment before answering. You didn’t want to tell Venom that you were feeling insecure. She freaked out on you whenever you said something negative about yourself. You didn’t wanna another 100 slide PowerPoint titled “why Y/N L/N is the baddest bitch in the galaxy”. Especially since forty of those slides were just pictures of your butt. You appreciated Venom wanting to help but you were feeling the kind of insecure that a pep talk couldn’t fix. You needed to figure it out on your own. So instead, you told her a different fear you had.

“Because. Look at us. We’re the only thing keeping each other alive.” You reasoned. “What if we get separated and die? I can’t become one of those people in Peters life who loved him and then left him. His mom, his dad, his Uncle Ben. I don’t want to die and leave Peter behind. He’s been through enough. He’d be so much better off without me.”

“We’re not gonna die. You protect me and I protect you. Nothing will hurt us as long as we have each other.” Venom assured you.

“I can’t protect you like you protect me.” You said softly. “I’m just a human. What if something happens to me and you die because of it?”

“Nothing will happen to you, Y/N. I promise. I won’t let it.” Venom swore. You looked at her and gave her a sad smile.

“I won’t let anything happen to you either.” You said, but you didn’t promise it. You knew you couldn’t promise it.

“And you can be with Peter.” Venom insisted. “On Klyntar, we mate for life. And we think you’ve found your mate in Peter.”

“What does that mean?” You wondered.

“It means we’ve become attached to him and will never be happy with anyone else.” Venom said. You let out a shaky breath as that wasn’t what you wanted to hear. You needed a reason to shut your feelings for Peter down.

“Like soulmates?” You asked.

“Exactly like soulmates.” Venom answered.

“Well what happens on Klyntar if someone is your soulmate but you’re not theirs?”

“Then we go into a cave and mourn until we die alone of heartbreak.” Venom said simply.

“That sounds about right.” You laughed sadly as you took a second to think.

“I’m gonna call that guy back.” You said suddenly.

“What guy?” She asked.

“They guy who asked me out at the coffee shop this morning.” You reminded her.

“The one with the stupid hair? Why would you call him?” Venom asked angrily.

“What was wrong with his hair?” You laughed.

“It was blonde. We like brunette.” Venom said with a devilish grin.

“His hair was fine.” You rolled your eyes. “And I’m gonna call him to say yes to the date.”

“Why would we do that when we like Peter?” Venom whined.

“Because if Peter doesn’t like us, I don’t want to die of heartbreak alone in a cave.” You admitted.

“He does love you.” Venom protested.

“We don’t know that.” You shook your head. “It’s just one date. I need to get back out there anyway. I haven’t gone on a date Andy and I broke up.”

“Fine.” Venom grumbled. “But this is a terrible idea and I’m going to complain the whole time and sing the Les Mis soundtrack in your head.” This was one of those moments where she felt more like your toddler than your symbiote.

You gave the guy a call before driving back to your apartment. As fate would have it, you ran into Peter in the hallway on your way to your room.

“Hey Y/n!” Peter greeted you. “You want to come over later and help me with spanish? I’ll amo you mucho.”

You wanted so badly to say yes but you had to stick to the plan to squash your feelings for Peter.

“Aw, I’m sorry Pete. I wish I could but I have a date tonight.” You frowned, instantly regretting it when you saw the look on his face.

Peter’s heart sank to the floor as he emotions went from feeling devastated to feeling white hot anger in a matter of seconds

“A date?” He sputtered. “With who?”

“Some boy I met at the coffee shop.” You said weakly, knowing you were hurting him.

“Oh.” He said dully.

“Some boy.” He thought angrily. “Some freaking dirty ass sissy coffee boy asked my girl out.”

Peter felt like hunting the man down and smacking the shit out of him. Or at the very least, webbing him to a wall leaving him there until he missed the date.

“What’s his name?” Peter asked suddenly, wanting to put a name to his new mortal enemy.

“Matt.” You nodded slowly.

“Freaking Matt.” Peter thought. “Freaking dirty ass bitch ass Matt. Was Matt Spider-Man? No. Could Matt treat you as well as I could? Probably. But did he like you as much? No. Did he have inside jokes with you? No. Could he make you laugh your beautiful laugh just by doing a Captain America impression? No. He wasn’t good enough for you. He couldn’t do the things I could do. He was trash. He was a trashy dirty ass rat boy.”

“Interesting.” Peter said, keeping his thoughts to himself.

“I’ll text you when it’s over and maybe I can help you then.” You offered. That sound okay, guapo?”

Peter nodded sadly, not even acknowledging that you called him handsome. Actually, he probably had no idea that you did. He was smart, but only in English.

“That’s fine.” He nodded glumly. “I’ll see you later.”

You watched Peter trudge into his apartment and felt a pain in your heart. He seemed so upset all the sudden. It couldn’t be from your date, could it? It’s not like you told him you got engaged or something. It was one little date. And it’s not like Peter even made a move. He had no reason to be upset. You brushed it off and went into your apartment to get ready.

Just as Venom predicted, the date went horribly wrong. You drove back to the apartment in silence afterwards, leaving Matt to clean himself off back at the restaurant.

“Why did that happen?” You asked her after a long drive in silence. You were mortified from the events of the night but you needed to know why they happened.

“Because he wasn’t your soulmate.” Venom said simply.

“We defiled that boy.”

“It happens.” Venom stated.

“It shouldn’t.” You said, shocked at how nonchalantly she was being.

“But it does.”

You rode the rest of the way in silence, shooting Peter a text before asleep on your couch. You woke up a few hours later in a cold sweat and in tears. You didn’t know it, but Peter was listening to your breathing from his apartment. He had picked up the small cries of his name in your sleep with his superhearing and stayed up to see if you were okay.

You weren’t, by the way. You had had a nightmare that shook you deeply and left you shaking. It was about Peter, but not in a good way. In this dream, he laid injured on the ground after a fight. You were separated from Venom and bleeding out near Peter. You couldn’t do anything to save him. You couldn’t scream for help. And worse, you couldn’t protect him. It caused you great agony to not be able to reach him.

Without giving it another thought, you got off your couch and made your way to the door. You needed to see Peter and tell him how you felt.

You didn’t care about your insecurities anymore. You didn’t care about all the things keeping you apart. You only cared about him, and that was enough. He needed to know that and you couldn’t wait another second.

You swung open your front door, only to find Peter Parker outside it in pink Hello Kitty pajama bottoms and a tight white t-shirt. His hand was raised, like he was about to knock.

“Hey.” you breathed. His hair was tousled and sticking up in random places. He looked heavenly.

“Hi.” He said shyly.

“I was just about to go to your door. I had a bad dream.” You told him. You were anxious to skip the semantics and cut right to the chase.

The chase being, “I love you and I’m yours if you’ll have me.”

“Yeah, I heard. That’s why I’m here.” Peter explained. That’s not what he wanted to say. What he wanted to say was, “I’m always here if you need me. I’d go to the ends of the earth for you. I love you. It’ll be okay.”

Peter looked at you funny for a moment, like he was seeing something beneath the surface.

“She looks so beautiful.” He thought. Makeup free, hair a little messy, and nothing but an oversized sweatshirt to cover you. Peter recognized the sweatshirt as his own, one you had swiped from his laundry basket because you had been freezing while watching Alien in his room. He felt so honored to know that you slept in it. Peter wondered how many times he could fall in love with you in a short span of time. In the past few seconds, he’d fallen about 15 times. Once for every breath you took. And you were breathing quite heavily.

“You heard?” You asked, wondering how he

had possible heard from his apartment.

“My hearing is excellent.” He said quickly. “Are you alright?”

“Please be alright.” He thought. “I’d stop anything that tried to hurt you. I’ll protect you from the storm. Don’t shut me out. Don’t turn me away. Let me love you.”

“Um…” You trailed off and looked behind you at your empty apartment. The darkness looked anything but inviting. You couldn’t go back in there just yet.

“No?” It came out as more of a question.

“No? Do you want to talk about it-“ Peter was cut off when you rushed into his arm and hugged him tightly. He seemed taken aback, seeing as you nearly knocked the wind out of him. But as soon as he found his footing, he wrapped his strong arms around you and held you close. You relaxed in Peters embrace and let out a sigh.

“I had a nightmare.” You croaked. “You died and I couldn’t save you.”

“I know. It’s okay. You’re awake now. I’m here.” Peter said soothingly.

“I’ve been here the whole time.” He thought. “I will never abandon you. You are safe in my arms. Nothing can hurt you now. I won’t let it.”

You pulled away a little and looked at his face, seeing how tired it was.

“Would you stay with me?” You asked timidly. You didn’t want him to go. Not now, not ever.

“Always.” Peter answered with a smile. “As if I could ever leave you.”

Your lips lit up in a smile as your eyes fell to his lips. They lingered there for too long, or maybe just long enough. Peter took the hint and slipped his hand behind your neck and began to pull you closer. As your lips were about to touch, your door slammed, causing you to jump out of each other’s embrace.

“Shit balls.” You said immediately, letting out an annoyed sigh.

“What?” Peter asked, giggling a little at your choice of profanity.

“I just locked myself out.” You realized as you jiggled through door handle. Peter laughed louder this time and put a hand on your shoulder.

“Come on. You’re sleeping over.” He said, leading you back to his apartment with his hand on the small of his back.

You entered Peters room for the millionth time, but it felt the first time. Sure, you’d become good friends in the time you’ve lived in the building, but bedrooms were intimate places. The context of you being in Peters bedroom after going to him for comfort changes how you saw the place. After all, bedrooms were windows into the soul. Oh wait, that’s eyes. Still, the room was different. You didn’t feel like you were entering it. You felt like you were returning.

You looked around with a content smile on your face. He still had his academic decathlon posters on his wall, along with a few Avengers posters. Peter was pretty neat, but he was still a teenage boy. Socks and sweaters were strewn across the room. You saw him kicking a pair of boxers under his desk out of the corner of you eye. His room was so cute. It was so…Peter. You noticed a first aid kit on his desk next to his chemistry textbook and wondered what on earth he could be using it for.

“I’ve always liked your room.” You complimented as you touched a decathlon trophy on his dresser.

“Oh thank God.” Peter sighed in relief. “I thought you’d take one look at my nerdy ambiance and run.”

“Star Wars bedsheets?” You asked when you noticed the Death Star poking out under his duvet. You definitely hadn’t seen those before and found them endearing. Peters ears reddened and he fixed his duvet to cover them up.

“Those aren’t mine.” He said quickly.

“Are they Mays? As in May the force be with you?” You played along and he gave you a defeated smile.

“That was the worst thing anyone has ever said. Ever.” Peter joked. You laughed and he gave you a shy smile.

“Fine. They’re my bedsheets. Star Wars is cool, okay?” Peter defended. You took a seat on his bed and shrugged.

“You don’t have to explain anything to me Peter. I just didn’t know you were a loser, is all.”You said simply. Peter sat down on the bed next to you and rolled his eyes.

“Very funny. You’re the funniest person I know.” He said sarcastically. You nudged him with your elbow and he and hit you with a Yoda printed pillow.

“Mm. Good with the force you are.” You commented. Peter groaned loudly and told you to shut up.

“Enough playing around. How was your date?” Peter asked as he turned to face you. You could hear the pain in his voice and regretted ever telling him about the date.

“Oh, you know.” You shrugged. “Terrible.”

You weren’t going to let him off the hook that easy. If Peter really did like you and want to be with you, he needed to say it. He couldn’t just grumble and wallow in self pity when you were with another boy. You wanted to test him to see if he’d ever actually admit his feelings, but a part of you was still scared there were no feelings to admit to.

“Really?” He said excitedly. He cleared his throat to cover it up and grunted. “I mean, really?” He asked calmly.

“Yeah it was awful. I definitely won’t be seeing him again.” You sighed sadly, but you weren’t actually sad. You were just putting on a show for Peter. Peter bit the inside of his cheek to stop the smile from emerging.

“That’s terrible.” Peter lied. “What went wrong?”

His acting was equally as bad as your own. He had a shit eating grin on his face, pretending to be sad when he was clearly over the moon.

“It was going fine all night until the kiss.” You sighed dramatically, looking longingly out the window. You might as well have thrown yourself onto the balcony and cried out for Romeo. Peter, however, was buying every second of it.

“You guys kissed?” He asked, his voice heavy with disappointment. He looked miserable. All you wanted to do was throw your arms around his neck and tell him he was the only one for you. Instead, you kept your feelings to yourself and nodded slowly.

“Almost. He leaned in and…” instead of finishing your sentence, you just shrugged. You could tell Peter was on the edge of his seat so you dragged it as long as you could.

“And?” Peter practically begged. You let out another long, dramatic sigh as Peter took a slow sip of his water bottle.

“And I threw up on him.” You said simply. Peter spat out the water in his mouth and burst out laughing, doing his best to cover it up. You gave him a fake angry look but ended up laughing as well.

“What?” Peter laughed.

“He was such a tool.” You whined. “He talked down to me the entire night and then had the audacity to try and kiss me. I don’t know what happened but all the sudden he was leaning in and I was throwing up. He deserved it though. He treated me like was an idiot. I’m almost glad I threw up on him.”

Peters was overjoyed. He was about to say something when we heard a straggled cry of your name.

You and Peter rushed to his peephole and saw a familiar blonde haired boy standing in the hallway.

There he was, Matt, outside your apartment door with his phone on full volume playing “Hungry Eyes” from Dirty Dancing.

“What the actual hell?” You wondered out loud. “I better get rid of him.”

“Y/nnnnnn. I’m sorry I was a jerk.” Matt slurred. “Please talk to me. I told the doorman we were cousins. Then I told the elevator guy that I was your husband. You may need to move now. Y/nnnn.”

“You definitely can’t go out there.” Peter shook his head. “He could have a knife.”

“Or worse.” You whispered, making Peter looked at you fearfully. “He could have the same loser bedsheets you do.”

Peter scrunched his nose at you and picked up you swiftly to threw you onto the couch.

“Since when are you so strong?” You laughed in shock. Peter shrugged and held out a hand.

“Let’s go to bed.” He said. You raised an eyebrow and he quickly added, “In a non-sexual, platonic way.”

He was always so cautious of offending you or making you uncomfortable. You appreciated how much of a gentleman he was and knew Aunt May had implemented those qualities in him.

“You can take the bed.” He offered. “I’ll sleep on the couch. Let me know if you need anything.”

You nodded and climbed into his bed, patting the the space next to you.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” You told him. “Get in.”

Peter looked at you with wide eyes, looking very unsure of himself as he toyed with the hem of his shirt.

He was torn. He wanted to get into the bed, but he also knew you were vulnerable right now and he didn’t want to take advantage of you. He didn’t want to do anything you’d end up regretting in the morning.

“Get in, in a non-sexual, platonic way.” You added. Peter relaxed but stayed standing. You pretended to splash Peter and twirled your hand around the bedsheets as if they were water.

“Come on in Parker. The waters warm.” You said in a low voice.

“I am…repulsed.” Peter deadpanned. In reality, he was dying to get in the bed. He wasn’t gonna try anything, he just wanted to feel you close. He wanted to comfort you and take the pain of the night away. Finally, he got into the bed and pulled the covers up. He shut off his lamp and we fell into comfortable silence.

“Good night, Peter.” You whispered, turning your back to him and cuddling into his pillow.

“Night, Y/n.” He whispered back. You felt his eyes on the back of your neck still. He didn’t want to close them and fall asleep. He wanted to stay in this moment as long as he could.

You soon felt hesitant arms wrap around your waist. Peter was very unsure of himself and kept his hands loosely on your hips, barely touching. You turned your neck around and looked at him quizzically.

“What the hell are you doing?” You demanded. His hands flew off your waist and his eyes widened with fear. He looked so apologetic, you thought he might cry.

“Do you not know how to cuddle?” You asked before he could blurt out an apology. You grabbed his arms and pulled them tightly around your body. You held his hands in your own, flush against your chest. Peter felt really tense at first and a bit stiff, but he soon relaxed and nestled into your hair.

“You smell really good.” He muttered. You laughed softly against his body, prompting Peter to hold you even tighter.

“I’ve wanted this for so long, Y/N.” He whispered. He said it so quietly, you figured he thought you had fallen asleep. “Sweet dreams.”

You woke up the next morning in Peter Parker’s arms. Subsequently, you wanted to wake up every morning for the rest of your life in Peter Parker’s arms. You were a mess of tangled limbs and hair but you found yourself firmly in his embrace, inhaling his cologne.

Peters eyes fluttered open suddenly and you were nose to nose.

“Hi.” You said softly, a playful smile resting on your lips. He was so pretty in the morning. He didn’t even have to try.

“Hey.” He chuckled. “This is new.”

“It is new. Is it okay?” You asked him, not wanting to overstep his boundaries.

“Is waking up next to the actual sun okay?” He teased. “Uh yea, Y/n. It’s okay. You can sleep over anytime you like if it means more mornings like this.”

Of course he said that. He held all your strings and knew just how to tug them.

“Did you really not enjoy that date?” He whispered, but in his head thought, “Do you want to be with anyone else?”

You didn’t know why he was whispering, but the look in his eyes told you he was dead serious.

“Not in the slightest.” You answered honestly. What you wanted to say was, “Because it wasn’t with you.”, but you didn’t.

“Would you…would you want to go out with me sometime?” He asked shyly. “I promise I won’t throw up on you.”

He said the second part as if it was the only way you’d say yes to the date, which made you laugh.

“Peter Parker, I have waited exactly 64 days for you to ask me that question and you just had to ruin it by promising you won’t throw up on me?” You playfully scolded as Peters eyes lit up.

“Is that a yes?” He asked excitedly.

“It’s a yes.” You nodded, holding his nearest hand. “It’s always been a yes.”

“Can I-“ He began.

“Don’t ask.” You whispered. “Just do it.”

Peter leaned in slowly and you did the same. His lips had just ghosted yours when Aunt May knocked on the door. He bolted out of bed as you sat up.

“Breakfast is ready. Did you clean your room?” Aunt May called from the other side of the door.

“Yes.” Peter called back. You looked around. No he didn’t

“No you didn’t.” She said knowingly. She didn’t even have to see his room to know it wasn’t clean.

“I’ll clean it after.” He groaned.

“I’m coming in.” She said suddenly, making you and Peter look at each other in fear.

“Don’t! I’m naked.” He screamed.

“Fine. But it better be clean after breakfast. And put some clothes on. You should not be naked at 7 am.” Aunt May said. You heard her footsteps walking away and knew it was safe to speak. You got out of Peters bed as he got up to lock the door, his back still to you as he did it.

“Alright.” He sighed. “That should buy us some ti-“

The second he turned around, he was met with your lips on his. You had your hands on the sides of his face and your head tilted to the left. You felt Peters eyes flutter shut as his eyelashes tickled your cheeks. He was frozen at first, but slowly wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer. You melted into him and he melted right back into you. The kiss was short and sweet, but absolutely perfect.

When you pulled away, Peter gave you the softest eyes ever. A grateful smile was on his lips.

“I am so over these interrupted moments.” You laughed softly as you shook your head. Peters eyes twinkled in agreement. The sun was coming through the window and made his brown eyes look like pots of honey. You could stare at them forever.

And then he kissed you again, with confidence this time. He wasn’t ready for the last one since you caught him off guard. You let your fingers tangle in the messy curls at the back of his neck, something you thought you’d only get to dream of doing. Peter groaned slightly into your mouth as you tugged on his hair, indicating that he liked it. He put his hand under your neck and slipped his toungue in your mouth. Who knew Peter Parker knew how to kiss? He tasted like morning breath, spearmint chapstick, and something you could only identify as being exclusively Peter. When you pulled apart, he looked up at the sky and sighed.

“If I wake up and this is all a dream I’m going to fight you.” He said menacingly.

“Did you just threaten God?” You laughed.

“For you? Anthing. I’ll fight anyone for your honor. Our Lord and Savior can catch these hands can square up.” He promised.

“You’ve gone to far.” You joked. “We need to break up.”

“Don’t even joke. I’ve waited too long for this.” Peter said as he wrapped his arms around you.

“I’m only teasing. I’ve waited my whole life for you Parker. I’m never letting you go.” You told him. He burst out in a smile and kissed you swiftly, then promptly got down on one knee.

“Will you please be mine, darling? Officially?” He pleaded softly. There was so much hope in his eyes so you pretended to think about it.

“Sorry.” You shrugged. “I’m pretty busy with Matt.”

Peter stood up and gripped your hips, pulling you closer while you let out a small gasp.

“I never want to hear his name again. He had the privilege of taking my girl on a date and treated her poorly?” He raised an eyebrow. “He’s a deadman if I ever see him around here. Now, I need you to tell me you’re my girlfriend before my heart explodes. Tell me you’re mine. I won’t believe it until you say it. ”

You nodded yes as you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed his lips.

“Peter Parker, I always have, and always will be, yours.”

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #peter parker x venom!reader #venom!reader #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #iron man #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfiction

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wafflesetc · 3 years ago

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this love

Chapter 2

Intelligence thought they were dealing with a small drug operation within the limits of their own city, until their wires got crossed with the Feds. And with the Feds an old friend has come back into town, trying to repair old wounds.

A/N: This is my first Chicago PD multi-chapter fic, so hang with me as I test the waters with this fandom. I’ve watched the show for all ten seasons, just never really dabbled into writing fic for it. Except I just could not get this idea out of my head, so I figured why not go ahead and try and write it. It’s planned at six chapters with an epilogue, if all goes to plan.

Chapter 1 (AO3)

The house is quiet when they walk in the door. He didn’t say much on the way home, and she isn’t one to pry. She’s never been one to pry- usually. There is a good balance between the two of them, with all they have been through, there is an underlying understanding- their “thing” that just works, almost effortlessly.

Hailey closes the door, locks the deadbolt, and unholsters her weapon, placing it on the hallway credenza. She watches him as he takes a few steps into their home, staring aimlessly into the Chicago skyline outside their living room window. “So do you want to tell me what Voight said to you?”

The drop in his shoulders is visible and he lets out an audible sigh to match. Not turning towards her, he unholsters his own weapon, places it on the piece of furniture next to hers, and finally turns to face her. She analyzes his face, and in all her years in being able to decipher what is going on in the mind of Jay Halstead- Hailey Upton finds herself at a loss. They’ve stared down bullets, entered fire fights together, chased down serial killers, and bomb threats, all almost a daily occurrence, yet right here and now-in this moment, in their own home, she can’t read him.

It makes her feel uneasy, so there’s a small shift in her stance, and she can feel her guard starting to rise. The type of guard she had when she first started at Intelligence all those years ago- the one Jay had slowly climbed up, broken down, and crumbled the foundation. The one that he somehow found his way into, without her even knowing or understanding- it’s how they’re here today- together- married. They both have pasts, things they aren’t proud of- ghosts that haunt them. Is Erin a ghost of his? Maybe- she can’t know for certain, at least right now, but she does know right now- she’s his future, and she is most definitely not his ghost. Taking a breath, she closes the space between them and wraps her arms around his waist, resting her head on his back. “What is it, Jay?”

His hands find their way to hers and squeeze them gently. “I…” He’s never really been good at words; he knows this and so does Hailey. It’s one of the reasons he struggled so bad after coming home from Afghanistan. Therapy helped to an extent, but the things that he had done, the things that he had seen, there was nothing in the world that would ever be able to right those wrongs or bring back the lives that were lost. But still, Hailey had pushed him. She had come into his life after a rocky partnership, an unhealthy relationship, and become a stronghold for him. She was a constant in his life- a day to day sun which held his fragile universe together. And when it started to crumble around him, she was the one who helped glue it back all together- she was the one who pushed him to continue to heal. She was his partner- had shown what a partner was like, in all aspects of the word.

With her head still resting on his back, she can feel his muscles tighten, the tension radiating from him. She wishes she could stop it, understand whatever he was feeling. “Hey, it’s okay.” She presses a kiss to the middle of his back. “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to Hailey, it’s just I don’t know what to talk about. My mind is racing a mile a minute over here and I can’t catch my breath.” His voice is quiet, but she can hear the processing he’s trying to do.

She walks around to face him, taking his hand, and guiding him to the couch. “Sit.”

“When I was a Ranger, we were on a tour, in country.” He sits, and takes her hands into his, rubbing circles in her palms. “When we had this one assignment, there was a night we were out, decked out in the gear- I’m talking like all tactical gear, it was a special assignment OP, no one was allowed to know where we were, it was that kind of one. I was alone on mountain side, a few hundred yards off waiting for the sign to take out the intended target. I watched my unit go through the door, but they were ambushed. From all sides, somehow the enemy knew we were coming and were prepared for a fight. We lost three men that night. And there wasn’t anything I could do, I was just alone on this hill, watching it all happen.”

She takes a moment to let him finish, makes sure there isn’t more he wants to say. He scarcely talks about his time in the army and after a bombshell like tonight’s visitor, he has obviously been triggered so she wants to tread cautiously.

“Jay, you know there was nothing you could have…” He smiles and lets out a small laugh. She can’t help but also let out a laugh because what in the hell, why is he laughing at her?

“I love you, Hailey, but I know there is nothing I could have done in that instant. I was just trying to think of a time I felt like this- and that night- seeing Erin- that is what it felt like. Watching nearly five years of memories flood through my scope and not being able to stop it.”

It’s her turn to think for a moment and raises a brow at him and swings her feet up so they across his lap. “For a minute there I thought this conversation was going somewhere completely different, you almost sounded triggered.”

He shakes his head and relaxes into the back of the couch, the tension is slowly starting to leave his body. They are home, in their element, just the two of them. It’s their little bubble- their safe space. “Oh, no… I’m sorry, it’s not the best analogy, but being with Erin was… Something else. It was always one thing or another. Communication never a thing, I never really knew what I was going to walk into. I always felt like I was two steps behind her, having to extinguish whatever fire she had started.”

It's her turn to laugh because she doesn’t really know Erin Lindsay all that well. Sure, she was a good cop- she had a special relationship to Voight, and yes- Jay, but from all that she’s gathered about the woman- Erin and her are two very different people. If it weren’t for Erin, Hailey isn’t sure Jay would be who he was. It’s the same with her and Garrett. Because of both of their previous relationships, she thinks, they’re able to be where they are in the here and now.

“Well, I’m not much better, you’re still cleaning up some of my own messes, you know.” She’s teasing, means it in a loving way, but his eyes dart to her and he shakes his head.

“Don’t compare yourself to her, Hailey. You’re nothing like her.” He gives her thigh a tight squeeze and interlaces his left hand with hers, twisting her wedding band between his fingers. “Trust me.”

“Okay, I just meant you and me- we’ve been through a lot too.”

“That’s the difference, Hailey, it’s you and me- we’ve been through a lot. I went through a lot when I was with Erin, and Erin went through a lot when she was with me. We never went through things when we were together. You got me like she never did, okay?” His words are steady and confident. He means this- almost like the vows he said that day in the courtroom. Somehow this is an oath between them, a shared moment that whatever this case is going to bring, Hailey’s his foundation.

“Got it.”

“Promise me, no matter what happens- what is said…”

“Jay,” She takes his hand and kisses the backside of his palm. His eyes dart to the floor, but she reaches across her body, using her finger to tilt his chin to her gaze. “For better or worse, and all that. Partners here and out there. I’ve got your six, always, okay.” She means it- she meant it the day she proposed the first time, she meant it the day she said yes when he got down on one knee in her old apartment, and she meant it the day she said her vows.

He nods in response. She cups his face in her hands, and pulls him towards her, kissing him briefly. He tastes like salt and gunpowder with a hint of her mint chapstick.

“How do you think tomorrow’s going to go?” Hailey asks as she pulls away from his lips, resting her forehead against his cheek.

“They’ll be excited to see her, it’s been a long time. I think the two of us were the biggest hurdles, so as long as go in and act like it is normal, the rest of the team won’t bat an eye.”

“That seems like tomorrow’s problem though, let’s go to bed.”

She stands, kicking off her shoes and tossing them into the abyss of the living room, and sticking her hand out. He willingly obliges, stands, and follows her into their bedroom. She’s not sure what tomorrow is going to look like, but for right now she’s sure of one thing, tomorrow can wait.

#Upstead #Upstead fic #Upstead Fanfiction #Jay x Hailey #Jay Halstead #Hailey Upton #Chicago PD #One Chicago #Chicago PD fanfiction #Erin Lindsay #myfic!

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glattandblade · 4 years ago

Note

hanahaki fic with any character?

Sure thing! Thank you for your request <3 I’ve never written Hanahaki before, so I hope I did it justice :D Thank you again!

By Author Blade <3

Title: Hanahaki (C!Schlatt x GN!Reader)

Summary: You’ve developed Hanahaki disease. And the cure seems out of reach.

Warnings: Angst (with a happy ending!), lots of mentions of death, also lots of mentions of vomiting & coughing (related to flowers), cursing

Word Count: 1212

Recently, your illness has been getting worse.

What started as coughing up a few petals every couple of days has gradually grown into choking on full bouquets.

Your doctor had told you it was Hanahaki, the disease of unrequited love. Your face had paled at that. The only way to cure Hanahaki was to have your beloved return your feelings. And God knows that wasn’t going to happen, on account of your “beloved” being kind of a dick.

Schlatt’s a self centered, rude, annoying, fucking dick.

But all the same, you loved him.

It’s gross.

The flowers started forming when you began working for him. It was hard moving and starting a new life, but you found yourself very close to your boss- the President. He was kind to you… sometimes. Being his secretary, you had the power to fuck him over a bit, so he usually leaned on your good side.

That doesn’t mean you were free from his teasing and overall cockiness.

As the disease progressed, you started to wonder why you were in love with someone like him. Why go through all this pain for him? What’s the fucking point if nothing is going to come out of it? You’d be leaning over the toilet, choking on your third rose, wishing you could just Get. Over. Him.

But then he’d gently knock at the door, ask if you were okay, and your heart would squeeze. You’d quickly flush away the flowers, tell him you were fine, and hope to God that he didn’t see it as important enough to prod.

It worked for a while, but then it became a daily occurrence.

You’d have to slip away from your duties after a terrible coughing fit to go get it all out of your system in the bathroom. At first, Schlatt was angry that you’d leave your desk or skip out on meetings, but then he noticed the pattern. He never pushed you further than asking if you were alright through a closed door whenever he passed by and heard the coughing. He did feel like his secretary’s health was something he should know about, though. He just never knew how to approach you about it.

Caring would look vulnerable, and he’s got a fucking country to run. He was never good with feelings in the first place anyway, so he just stuck to the sidelines, making mental notes on your health for the day. Maybe one day you’d tell him and he wouldn’t have to deal with it. Or you’d die and he would know the answer.

What he didn’t know was that thoughts like those were what was killing you.

After a particularly hard day, you spent the whole night over the toilet. He had touched you. A light graze of the fingers, sure, but it was enough to send the flowers into overdrive. You called in the next day, hoping everyone would assume that you were just overworked and needed the day off, but Schlatt was more aware of the situation than that, to your dismay.

He had showed up at your house. You could feel the flowers building up your throat. You held them down as much as you could as he talked to you, but it was hard.

You could barely register what he was saying as you started to cough so hard that you fell to your knees. He reached out and caught you, but that just made it worse. You couldn’t hold them back anymore, and the flowers started to fly out, all over the floor and all over him.

He stared at them with curious concern. He held you in a gentle way he didn’t think possible, taking one of the flowers between his fingers.

Hanahaki.

Of course, he’s heard about it. Who hasn’t? The death rate for Hanahaki’s way too high.

The two of you moved to the bathroom where you finished your fit.

His voice was uncharacteristically quiet when he spoke, breaking the silence, “Who is it?” You almost didn’t hear him.

“It.. it doesn’t matter, Schlatt.” Your voice was hoarse, it hurt to talk. You could feel the flowers fighting to come back up as he got closer to you, sitting down on the floor next to you. You coughed hard before continuing, “I-I’ll be okay.”

“Well I really fuckin’ doubt that, sweetheart. You just threw up my dead Grandma’s bouquet.” Usually, that would make you laugh, at least a little, but you could feel the flowers pushing at your throat and squeezing your lungs from just how close he was to you.

“Just tell me, (Y/N). Maybe I can help.”

You smiled at him, though it was sad. Those words only made it worse. He didn’t realize that the kindness he was showing you was only feeding the flowers.

“You aren’t going to be… mad? Or laugh?” It felt silly, but you needed the reassurance right now.

“We’re not fucking 12, (Y/N).”

“Right.”

You cleared your throat, hoping to suck down any stray flowers so you could speak. Your brain found it hard to find the right words, so you just went with the shortest, simplest thing you could think of. Something he’d understand immediately and you wouldn't have to repeat yourself.

“I love you.”

He paused, then looked at you, eyes wide and mouth open a bit.

“You what?”

Okay, not the best reaction, but he didn’t seem mad, at least.

“Schlatt don’t make me repeat myself, my throat hurts as it is.” A tease, a joke. Lighthearted enough to distract yourself from the fact that if he doesn’t reciprocate, you’re dead.

“No, no. I get it. I’m sexy as fuck- I’m the president, for God’s sake. And any one knows that everyone and their mom wanted to fuck Obama-”

He rambled on for a bit like that, inflating his ego a little in the process. You stared at him blankly, waiting for him to finish to give you a proper answer.

“You’re my secretary, though! Isn’t that kind of weird? Actually it’s kind of hot-”

You rolled your eyes.

“But if people found out? My name would be smeared. Then again, you’re really pretty. Have I told you that? Oh fuck, maybe now isn’t the right time-”

“Schlatt?”

He turned to you, having looked away during his rant, “Yeah?”

“Are you going to kiss me? Or just ramble like an idiot?”

“I’m not an idiot. Maybe a fool, but I’m not an idiot.”

“So are you going to kiss-” And before you could finish, he leaned forward, cutting you off with a kiss.

And it was a damn good kiss at that, for this kiss was enough to seal that he did, in fact, give a shit about you. You felt a weight lift off your lungs, your throat cleared up, and for the first time in months, you felt happy.

His hands on your hips, your arms around his neck, the way he had to bend down to reach your lips and you had to push yourself up to reach his... It was uncomfortable, actually. You’re on the bathroom floor for Christ’s sake, but you wouldn’t trade this kiss for the world.

You were finally free of that wretched disease, and now you could kiss him whenever you wanted.

Masterlist

#thank you for your request!#authorblade #schlatt x reader #jschlatt x reader #c!schlatt x reader #c!jschlatt x reader #dsmp #dsmp x reader #hanahaki #angst with a happy ending #death mention #vomiting mention #jschlatt dsmp #schlatt dsmp #attempt at humor #sometimes i think im funny tbh #enjoy!#thought to be unrequited love

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stuckybarton · 3 years ago

Text

Manifestation of Happy Endings

SUMMARY: "Everyone deserves a happy ending, even you." CHARACTERS: Stephen Strange x Reader; Wong. Cloakie [Cloak of Levitation], Wong. Asshole Tony Stark. WARNINGS: Slight Angst. Brief Description of A Kiss. Toxic Way of Moving on from An Ex(for Tony, not the reader) WORDS: 2,704 MASTERLIST || Join the Taglist

Part 4 STREETLIGHT

One of the things Stephen Strange had never thought he would ever have in his life again was a woman he loved--loving so much that he was willing to endure what he was in this very moment.

Nothing scared him more than having to think of the perfect way to propose to his girlfriend. Nothing scared him shitless than the idea of you rejecting his proposal and the crack begins to form in your stable relationship.

You were doing alright, for the past few months since you started dating Stephen--or at least that was what Stephen had gotten out of Wong whenever the two of you would be deep in conversation in either the library or the kitchen.

With his responsibility as the Sorcerer Supreme and helping saving the Universe on a daily basis, he never had a perfect opportunity to propose. And when he did found the momentary courage, you would be pulled into a book tour all around the country, leaving him to device a plan with Wong on how to actually propose.

"Maybe a candlelit dinner?" Wong had offered, attention still focused on the new book you had given him--the very reason as to why you were gone for well over a month now.

"Too predictable." Stephen snorted.

Candlelit dinner was already a common occurrence between the two of you, with the rare free time, you'd often find yourself just making a hearty meal for the two of you while Stephen was in charge of setting the mood in the dinner table. It was better than heading to a restaurant, getting recognized, and having to deal with the news still circulating about you and your separation from Tony Stark all those months ago.

"Then do something you won't usually do." Wong continued on turning the page to your book.

You loved going on walks. Even with the daily chaos of New York Streets could offer, you always loved being able to go outside, look around and get as much inspiration as you could for any upcoming books you were writing. Outside to some fresh air and sunlight you often tease Stephen of not having enough of because of his duties.

Maybe taking you out on a hike somewhere could be good. A good change of pace, then he could find a perfect spot to just bend on one knee and asked you to be his wife. Easier said than done when he comes to think more through with the plan. He doesn't know any good hiking trails in New York and it looked more taxing for either of you.

"She says she always wanted to go on road trips across the country." Wong finally made a suggestion. "Why don't the two of you drive to Vegas or something else hedonistic for once."

The suggestion doesn't sound too bad. You did enjoy car rides, Stephen had come to realize. Since his accident years ago, he tried his best to avoid car rides, mostly not needing to since he could create portals to travel to different location his mind can conjure. The first time he had actually enjoyed being inside a car that wasn't his own was with you, as you two made your way to lunch.

He could still remember the way you would allow him to pick the song for the quick ride and how you would jam to whatever was on the radio. It brought a smile on his face now, remembering the patience of a saint you had whenever he would act like a backseat driver if you turn into a different route.

A thirty hour drive would be a nightmare for him, but if he had you, it doesn't sound as bad.

Before he could conjure up the plan, the simple ding of his phone brought his attention away from his plan. A text from you, from a phone you had hesitantly brought under your agent and manager's insistence. It also meant Stephen had more use of his own and Wong somehow found himself with one as well thanks to you--not wanting him to be left out.

Stark is here. I don't know what to do.

"I'll be right back." Stephen told his friend before conjuring a portal with his sling ring to bring him to California where you were currently having your Open forum.

In an audience capacity of a thousand, Alex Theatre was full pack. But among the faces in the crowd. A handful had stood out the most. Tony Stark, Happy Hogan, and one Peter Parker. It was hell and sending Stephen a quick text about it was the only solution you could think of at the moment.

You were to be talking to the audience for a good hour and a half and be open for a few questions, but just the fact that the people you wanted nothing to do with anymore was in the room had you scared.

You no longer had the feelings you once had for Tony, but you were simply scared of the repercussions that would come with Stephen knowing about it.

You knew that Stephen would try confronting Tony, but that would complicate the situation more than it should. Knowing you refused to let any of them know your whereabouts or the fact that you were closer than any of them had actually thought you would be.

"Y/N?"

At the familiar voice of your boyfriend, you were momentarily felt at ease as you tried your best to calm down and stop the possible mental breakdown you were having knowing your ex was in the building. The backstage looked smaller than it really was.

Wrapped in his arms, the fear was placed at ease. You rested your cheeks on his chest, arms sliding around his waist as he pulled you closer to him. Hands cradling the back of your head.

"You okay?" He asked.

You didn't respond, instead pulling him closer to you. Fearing that if you let him go now the man would make his way to the audience and talk some sense to Tony.

"I'm nervous about this, even if he wasn't here." You muttered.

This was the first tour you had done in years. Having lost inspiration in writing because of the stagnation in your relationship, you were still worried about what the world would react to your new book, how they would think of you now that you were no longer the woman constantly attached to Tony Stark's side in public events.

As much as your team had constantly hyped you up, with colorful reviews on your latest book, it was still different from the last one you had done, the difference was caused by this man in front of you, holding you into him like you were made of fine porcelain.

It was difference you always needed in your life, but you fear the reception of it wouldn't be well received by your supporters and your fanbase.

"Let's drive to Vegas after your tour." Stephen's suggestion had surprised you.

You were expecting his usual dry humor, but you were welcomed with something entirely different from the man. Driving across country was something you always wanted to experience, but knowing Stephen's accident, you never suggested the activity.

"I'm driving." You were quick to volunteer.

"I expecting nothing less." He smirked looking down at you. For a moment, you couldn't help but just look down at him. How his blue eyes could look at you like they did, adoration and love. "Want to get married in Vegas?" He offered.

The last question had you shoving him away and glaring at him. The hell was he talking about.

"That's not funny, Strange." You warned.

"It's not a joke." Stephen assured with a smile.

And just like that, the man had fallen to this knees in front of you. The people backstage were witnessing and squealing on your behalf as you stood stock still in front of the man.

"I was planning on proposing on our drive to Vegas, but now is a good time as any to do so. Y/N Y/L/N, you had turned my world upside down the moment you fall face first in the café all those months ago, how you had repaid me with coffee and a deli sandwich when it was my cloak that saved you. How you made the sanctum a home, how you became a part of the team in your own special way. I love you and I wish to be able to spend the rest of my days with you. "

You were left dumbfounded and before you could do anything, you fell to your knees in front of the man even before he could ask you the question, you had said yes. Over and over you had accepted his proposal even without hearing the question. You were happy with Stephen, more than you had ever thought you would ever be since.

"Yes. A million times yes." You muttered wrapping your arms around him and kissing him square on the lips. After a moment of clapping from the people backstage, the momentary embarrassment had settled you but Stephen was quick to make the situation better. Standing the two of you back up to your feet, he had finally opened the velvet box to a sight that took your breath away.

A vintage, emerald cut diamond ring. Plucking the ring with his shaky hand he had slid it onto your ring finger before kissing your hand. An affection you were so used to seeing from Stephen at the privacy of the sanctum or your apartment.

"I can't be like Tony and give you the world, but I'll be me and give you my life and the time I left when I'm not saving the world to you."

You smiled at his promise. It was reasonable, a part of him that you will never make him choose between. Knowing he was going to be making an effort was enough for you as you nodded and kissed him once again before you were finally announced to head out.

"I'll be waiting here, break a leg!" Stephen smiled breathless as you finally stepped out to the crowd, a quick round of applause had sounded as you made your way to the podium. Hugging the MC for the event before turning to face everyone, including the likes of Tony Stark in the crowd.

"Sounds like something important happened backstage." The MC smiled knowing how he had to drag the introductions longer than needed because of what Stephen had done.

"My boyfriend proposed to me." You beamed showcasing the ring that now wrapped around your finger to the crowd.

"Congratulations. Who's the lucky guy?" The MC inquired and for a moment your eyes turned towards Tony, and for once you finally saw something you had never thought you'd see in his eyes. Regret. It wasn't satisfaction that you felt, more like this closure you never thought you could have left after all was said and done with him.

"He's a private guy. But I'm happy, the happiest I had ever been in my life." You responded before turning your eyes back towards the curtains where you saw Stephen was watching, a beaming smile was on his face. "He's actually watching backstage," you turned back to the crowd. "So if by any chance I stop mid sentence throughout, it's still the adrenaline from his proposal manifesting, so blame him okay?" You teased earning a laugh from the crowd.

"So I don't need to ask it then, who is your muse for your new book?"

You blushed hesitantly turning to Stephen as the humor lingered on his features. It was an open secret that he was but it's weird having to say it with him in attendance. Easier when he was miles away from you.

"If you're happy, you become inspired." You shrugged hoping that is enough explanation for it. "And from the reviews I've gotten since the book's launch, everyone could see that." You beamed.

"So before we get started in the plotline and the theme of the story, can you tell us about the process of this book from your head to the printing press?"

You cleared your throat knowing that this question would be coming. It wasn't long before you needed to address it and knowing now would be the best time to do so before you finally close the chapter in your life for good.

"I've been in a slump for over a year and a half, my agent and my editors couldn't bring me into writing anything substantial, I blame myself and what my previous relationship had done to me." You spoke honestly, eyes momentarily focusing towards Tony before lingering back to the listening crowd. "It's one thing to be in a relationship filled with arguments and resentment; it was another when you're the only one trying in the relationship that everything else in your life seems--meaningless."

You could still remember the life you had wasted for the years of being with your ex. How you had loved finally gaining your independence and being able to be happy again without needing to think about him and his well being most of the time.

"I found myself out of that environment and found myself in a much different one. I met this man in the café, saved before I face planted onto the floor in front of the bustling crowd. And the rest as they say is history." You added. "Because of this said man, I've found myself writing more than I thought I'd actually do since moving on from my ex. I'd be in his library for hours on until I could see the moonlight glowing below the two of us. And I just found myself writing a love story instead of a story about moving on."

You somehow found yourself chuckling at the last bit as you had come to realize something about your relationship with Stephen.

"I'm actually going to marry my rebound." You had announced somehow far too proudly earning a laugh from the crowd in the process. "So ladies and gentlemen, if you think the most serious relationship you have right now had failed, there is always someone out there meant for you. You just need to get out of your comfort zone."

"You two look ridiculous." Wong was quick to point out as the beaming smile on both of your faces lingered.

An hours previously, you had been officially married to Dr. Stephen Vincent Strange. Wearing the same dress you had on during your talk and only now adorned in a small veil you've purchased in the Vegas strip as you and Stephen had looked for a semi-decent individual to officiate your wedding.

You made it evident that Wong should also be joining, not just as a witness but as part of the family. The man had been there throughout the start of your relationship and it was only fitting to have him in this new chapter as well. Married and whatever the universe would throw the two of them from this day forward.

"We can always go to a strip club to celebrate." Stephen had teased, arm wrapped around your shoulder as the three of you had walked around the strip, caring less at this point if anyone would recognize any of you.

You smiled agreeing playful just to see Wong stutter and try his best to change the subject.

"We promise that the bigger wedding would be more tame than this." You had assured your friend. "And Stephen will make you his Best man." You had pointed out to your--husband.

The word felt still as foreign in your tongue but a welcome change it seems. Holding onto Stephen's free hand, the rings you've picked from the nearby jewelry store was perfect in it's own special way. The streetlight glowing all throughout made the rings sparkle and the smile on your face growing bigger than ever.

"Why do I think he will go more bridezilla than you?" Wong teased earning a glare from Stephen but the lack of a genuine retort made it evident between the three of you how right Wong's word were.

#Stephen Strange Series #stephen strange imagine #Stephen Strange x reader #Stephen Strange Imagines #stephen strange x y/n #stephen strange x you #Manifestation of A Happy Ending Series #Stephen Strange Angst #Stephen Strange Fluff

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bratkook · 4 years ago

Text

eleven months. (m) myg. two.

masterlist.

pairing: min yoongi x reader genre: fluff, slow burn!!!, eventual smut, warnings: brief non-descriptive mention of death, otherwise none word count: 7k author’s note: here’s some more backstory on both of them as well as more interaction beyond yoongi hunting down an album by the cure lmao. like i said before, i’m really soft for yoongi in this story so lmk what you think! (also..because i hate myself and love piling up wips, theres mention of oc having a previous love interest that’s actually part of another story that takes place in this universe that’s a prequel soooo...coming soon lol) taglist (open): @min-yus summary: it’s been years of yoongi living his routine life, accustomed to his pace of living, going with the flow and simply existing. until you come along. yoongi absolutely can not see the logic in the way you live, but he weirdly craves it. craves the feeling of not being afraid of not knowing what’s coming, being able to just let the cards fall wherever they land. and maybe you can help with that.

In the next coming weeks it becomes obvious that Yoongi is in fact a regular. His routine visits allow you to remember the usual days and times he’d pop in, so you knew if you’d be working on his chosen days.

Somewhere in between his casual drop ins, the two of you had formed somewhat of a friendship— or the beginning stages of one at least. Yoongi liked your sense of humor, how open and friendly you were to anyone you encountered, always having something to say about anything. Conversation came easy to you, never running out of stories. It left Yoongi thinking you’ve definitely lived about ten lifetimes compared to him.

In turn, you liked how he let you steer the conversation any way you chose. Most people would probably watch on in horror at the way you’d go from talking about a specific song or band, and then switching to a story about how you chased a pickpocketer during your travels before moving on to talking about your roommate’s cat. None of it gave him whiplash though, seamlessly flowing into the next topic with a grin on his face, never feeling like he had to think too hard to keep it going. It worked best this way. Yoongi was observant by nature, a great listener above it all, so if you were the one doing most of the talking it was fine by him.

Everyone at Rkive360 had taken notice that Yoongi’s usual five minute visits had turned into ten, and then twenty, until it became very clear he was lingering inside the store. No one told him anything, besides the fact that he was bestfriends with the owner and had immunity, all of you were fond of him. Taehyung enjoyed the sly remarks Yoongi would make, Sana just enjoyed ogling at him, Namjoon would never mind seeing him, and you would take any chance you could to attempt to wow him with your small knowledge of music.

It was a nice distraction whenever he stopped by, always heading straight to the back where the vinyl was kept. Sometimes he had a specific album in mind, other times he was simply browsing, but he only ever bought one at a time. It was routine, maybe even a weird ritual of sorts if he really thought about it.

On the days you knew he’d be coming you would spend a little extra time in the beginning of your shift picking out a few records to suggest to him if he didn’t have one in mind. Because of this, he had stopped his usual path to the bins and now came directly to you, the first stray off his usual routine.

Today you’re standing behind the counter, ringing up a customer when he walks in, a smile on your face as you chat away. He patiently waits at the far corner, leaning back against it as his eyes roamed the interior of the store, taking note of the way Sana and Taehyung were trying and failing to build a giant display. It looks like a mess of parts, scattered around with no instruction manual in sight— definitely Taehyung’s idea to toss it judging by Sana’s look of frustration.

He tears his gaze away from them beginning to argue when he hears you wish the customer a good day as they leave, pushing away from the counter and shuffling your way with a grin on his face. You smile back at the way his doughy cheeks push out, high points of them reflecting the light from above.

“Any shirt facts of the day?”

That had also become another common occurrence. Whenever you decided to wear a band shirt, he somehow always had random facts about whoever it was. It didn’t matter if it was some obscure french band or a 90’s rapper, Yoongi knew something about everyone, like some walking encyclopedia of musical artists. So when you take a step away and spread your arms out, he sees your shirt of choice today is The Doors, and he scoffs. Too easy.

“The Doors were the first band to ever advertise a new album on a billboard.” He nods his head slowly, almost as if he’s telling you yes I know, amazing right?

A hum leaves your lips at his fun fact, slightly impressed by it. “Interesting. Like always, I did not know that.” You peek under the counter top at the selection of records you kept stowed away for him, safe from any undeserving customers. “Now, do you want to see my daily, hand picked selection just for you.”

This was his new favorite pastime, getting to see the random albums you’d group together for him, wanting to know what you thought was worthy for him to listen to. When he nods, rubbing his hands together in excitement, you haul up the stack and carefully spread them out across the top.

The genre of the day was R&B, he can tell that much as he sorts through the albums. You’re familiar with the way he clumps together certain records, marking them down as albums he already owns, until he gets to an orange colored cover. The words The Internet fill the top right corner along with Ego Death on the bottom left. This he had never heard before. He picks it up and flips it over, scanning the song names with interest.

His eyes raise up to yours with curiosity, the same sharp gaze that somehow still makes you nervous holds the obvious question being passed between you with no need for words: are they any good? And the way you nod your head immediately convinces him enough. “Alright, I’ll give them a shot.”

A small sense of pride fills your chest, a tiny victory whenever he decides to pick something from your stack, trusting whatever music knowledge you had somehow convinced him you have. “I promise you’ll love them.”

When you hand him his change and the brown paper bag, you immediately check the time and clock out, dipping back under the counter and grabbing your bag from its hidden spot.

“Are you off?” Yoongi finds himself asking, no longer used to leaving immediately after he purchased something. The usual fifteen minute conversation you two had was missing today, and he’s not too sure how he feels about that.

“Yes I am, you were my last customer. The store will now be run by those two heathens. Here’s to hoping they don’t bite each others heads off while they finish building whatever the fuck that is.” Taehyung is now standing up, lazily holding up a part of the display as Sana tries to screw something together, angrily giving Taehyung commands but he only mimics her with a ridiculous face. And when she socks his thigh, her fist aiming a little too close to home, you let out a laugh.

Yoongi highly doubts that’s going to be possible, Namjoon would probably have to be the one left to finish building the display while also putting them on opposite sides of the store whenever he came in for the day. It was truly a shock that they had gone this long working together without an actual fist fight breaking out. If it came down to it, Yoongi had his money on Sana being able to whoop Tae’s ass.

“Do you know any good take out spots nearby? I’m starving and I’m still new to the area so I’ll take any recommendations.” Your voice snaps him back, his eyes looking at you briefly as the question registers within him.

“Oh, yeah. There’s a place not too far from here that has pretty good jajangmyeon.”

“Hell yeah.” Your hands pat your belly softly, coming up to readjust your bag as you walk around the counter and head for the door, shouting out a goodbye to Taehyung and Sana as you leave the store. When you exit the shop, your hand holding the door open behind you, you glance back inside in confusion when you spot Yoongi still standing by the counter with wide eyes. “Well, aren’t you coming?”

Truth be told, he had been wanting to talk to you outside of work for a while but he was scared to ask, not wanting to make you feel obligated to say yes just because he was a regular at your place of employment. Something about you seemed familiar to him, and to be quite honest he just craved social intimacy. His job consumed him and coming into this record shop was the small escape he needed, you being there was just a newly added plus.

You’re on the same page he is, wanting to hang out with him just as much as he had, something about the way he seemed like a half open book interested you. Throughout all of your adventures you had forced yourself to come out of your shell, no longer afraid or bashful when it came to initiating friendships. If you wanted to get to know someone better, then you’d bite first. And you definitely wanted to get to know Yoongi better.

It takes him a moment to react, his gaze switching from you to look back over at your coworkers, seeing Sana sending you a curious glance. Yoongi was about to attempt to muster up the courage to ask you to hang out and you beat him to the punch, but after a second he grins at you with a nod. Of course he was coming.

The weather in Seoul is forgiving today, the usual cold of autumn being prevalent in the air without the need to bundle up, the slight wind not stinging your skin as it blows around you. This was probably your favorite season, comfortable enough for you to do whatever you want without feeling restricted by heavy layers or sticky from the heat.

A soft smile is on your lips, hands shoved into the pockets of your baggy cardigan, and a small pep in your step as your eyes take in the world around you. That feeling you get when you visit a new town on vacation, how you’re just passing through for a brief moment in a place so many call home, it makes you realize how small you actually are.

It’s a feeling you always longed for, to experience a new place and make it home, it's the main reason you always bounced around so much. Staring at all the shops around you, taking in all the people just going about their daily life, you’re content with your new choice of scenery.

Too lost in your own head as you take in the shops and people around you, you snap out of it when Yoongi reaches out and clasps a hand on your shoulder, steering you to turn right when you keep walking straight. “Get your head out of the clouds.”

He hears the snort you let out, allowing him to guide you the correct way. Slowly trailing away from the main road, the amount of people lessens, only a handful of stores line up around the alley you had turned into. When you spare a glance at Yoongi you can see the excitement on his face, speeding up his pace until he’s standing in front of the restaurant. It’s a small hole in the wall shop that didn’t even look like it served food from the outside, all black exterior with a red sign hung up on top showcasing their name, Ipum.

It’s charming, and the way Yoongi spreads his arm out puts a similar smile on your face. Only then does he pull open the door, allowing you to step in first before he follows.

Once Yoongi steps inside he’s immediately greeted by the workers calling out his name in glee, bowing in response with a bashful smile as he approaches the small counter set up for take out orders, not needing to read the menu. You don’t realize he’s waiting for you as you take in the interior of the restaurant, the red dining tables surprisingly packed despite their lack of advertising outside. This place really must be as good as Yoongi promised.

“Anything specific you want?” he asks, finger pointing to the small menu in his hand in case you needed it. When you shake your head, letting him know he can order anything he wants, he does exactly that, placing two orders of jajangmyeon, along with fried dumplings and sweet and sour pork to complete it. It was his go to choices whenever he came, so he hopes you’ll enjoy it as much as he does.

As you step to the side, backs pressed against the wall closest to the counter in order to keep the space open for the workers and patrons to walk comfortably in the small shop, you turn your head to glance at Yoongi again. “You come here often?”

The way the workers had spoken to him had made that glaringly obvious, but you wanted to hear it from him, wanted to know if he came here for comfort food or some other weird tradition like his ‘one-vinyl-a-day’ way of life.

It was sort of a habit he had fallen into years ago. Having grown up in this city his whole life, he had stumbled upon this place his last year of high school. It had become a staple soon after, a place he would come to directly after classes were done to come stuff his face before heading home. Then it became a place his girlfriend and him frequented when the apartment they moved into turned out to be a mere block away.

In a way, the owners of this shop had become like a second family. The amount of times they’ve seen Yoongi at his best and worst throughout the years, never once throwing judgment his way even if he came in beyond plastered back in the years he used to drink, never turning him away even if he cried into his noodles.

He decides that’s a little too much to unpack right now, so he just nods in confirmation. “Yeah, I’ve been coming here for years. One taste of their noodles and you’ll be hooked too, trust me.”

Oh you trusted him, the amount of plates you’ve seen so far just made your mouth water once they passed by you and the smell of the food reached your nose. “We should’ve just sat down, I’m not gonna be able to wait until I get home to eat this.”

As you say this one of the workers approaches you two with a tied up plastic bag in his hand, the inside stuffed with takeout boxes and utensils for you to take. Yoongi grasps the bag with a smile and thanks him as he walks away. “Don’t worry, I live like a block away.”

He realizes how his words could be taken immediately, how he had assumed you two would innocently go back to his place to share a meal. You had invited him to eat but the location of where you would be doing so had not been discussed and the last thing he wanted was to come across as a sleaze.

His mouth was ready to back track completely, until he sees the way you dramatically place your hand over your chest, and he knows it's too late, “Oh damn, your place? Saucy, but I’m starving so I’ll do almost anything.”

You can see the way he relaxes when he notices you aren’t being serious, taking his words lightly the way he intended them. His eyes roll behind his lids, a lazy smile gracing his lips as he shoves your shoulder lightly to get you to start walking.

“Is jajangmyeon all it takes?”

“Slow your roll, good jajangmyeon is all it takes. I’ve yet to have a taste.”

Yoongi smiles at your words, taking the lead when you step out of the shop and turn back down towards the main street. His apartment was on the next block over, a short walk that you didn’t mind, especially since he took it upon himself to point at random stores you passed to let you know the best places to get what.

He has a lot of love for this city, the memories it possesses spread out through his entire childhood and early adult years, lingering in each crack on the sidewalk. He often sits and wonders how different his life would be if his parents had decided to move to Busan instead of Seoul, or stayed in Daegu altogether. The thought of the timeline of his life being altered so drastically to the point of possibly not being able to be living this moment sends his mind into a flurry, so he's grateful you’ve reached his front door now as his mind settles.

“Oh my god who’s this?” You coo as you step into his apartment, crouching down towards the white stone floors to pet the fluffy gray cat that greeted you, enjoying the way it purred and rubbed against your knee.

“That's Yuri, the queen of the house.” He steps away from you, setting the plastic bag on top of the kitchen counter a few feet away, his hands pulling out the containers and setting them down. “Don’t give her too much attention or she’ll never let you leave.”

Yuri glances up at you, her bright green eyes peering up innocently at Yoongi’s words, almost as if she was pleading for you to keep petting her. It doesn’t take much convincing for you to scoop your hands under her and press her against your chest as you stand up, your fingers gently scratching the top of her head. Yoongi lets out a sigh when he sees his cat has succeeded in wrapping you around her finger.

“Sorry, she’s too cute to not cuddle with.”

She nuzzles into your chest, purring in appreciation when your fingers trail down onto her spine. Yoongi watches you as he pops open the lid of the container that holds the noodles. Yuri is his baby, yet every time a new person comes into his place she acts like he doesn’t exist— well not until he pops open the container holding the sweet and sour pork. That's when her head pops up, her green eyes sharpening when she spots the food, and Yoongi glares back at the fluffy traitor.

When Yuri's fluffy body shakes slightly as you laugh Yoongi glances back at you, breaking up the staring contest he had going with his cat. “She’s gonna betray your love right now for some pork.”

You don’t doubt him, not with the way her paws start to push at your arms, attempting to stand up in your embrace until she’s hopping off from your arms and slowly walking towards Yoongi. She’s absolutely shameless as she rubs her body against his legs, and Yoongi can only look down at her before staring back up at you, gesturing out with his hands. “You see?”

The act of betrayal doesn’t sting, not when she’s as cute as she is. Instead you just chuckle, walking towards the stools Yoongi has by the oversized kitchen island, a breakfast bar set up at the end, the food spread out on top of it. He ignores Yuri for the time being, pulling out the stool beside yours and sliding into it. The both of you pull your chopsticks apart and get to eating instantly, swirling the noodles until they’re evenly coated in the sauce.

You try to ignore the way Yoongi blatantly stares at you as you bring up the first clump of noodles, waiting to see what your initial reaction would be to the food he held so near and dear to his heart. Yoongi knows this could go south so quickly, there is nothing worse than trying something new when you’re starving and having it absolutely suck. Sensing his nerves, you slurp the noodles up, and when the salty taste hits your tongue you hum, chewing them thoughtfully to make a show for Yoongi.

“Verdict?”

He waits patiently for you to swallow, sharp eyes analyzing your expression, seeing you lick your lips and grin at him. “You weren’t lying, definitely some of the best jajangmyeon I’ve had.”

In pure dramatics, he practically sags in his seat and raises a fist into the air in success, being able to properly enjoy his food now that he knew you approved of it. The two of you begin to eat in relative silence, the sound of munching and slurping filling up his kitchen space.

As the minutes go by, the back and forth of your chopsticks plucking out a dumpling after he did, lands with you snatching the last one. An evil cackle leaving you as you pop it into your mouth and grin at him, cheeks puffed out slightly and he can’t find it in himself to be irked at you snatching the last dumpling when you looked like that.

The compromise of that is you leaving the remaining pieces of pork for him to enjoy, and when Yuri gracefully hops onto the counter you see why he had suggested that. He grasps a tiny piece of pork on his chopsticks and feeds her like a parent would a toddler, airplane noise and all until Yuri opens wide and gently clamps down on the meat.

“She’s spoiled because of you.”

He merely shrugs, a giant smile spreading across his face as he watches her with adoration as she chews the food. “I refuse to confirm or deny that.”

As you finish up the last of your food you just watch on as Yoongi alternates between feeding himself and Yuri until no more pork remains. Seeing the soft way he acts with his cat just warms you up, Yoongi had always seemed like a blunt person from the times you’ve seen him at the store, his sense of humor is one that could easily be taken as harsh or cold if you didn’t match it, but you’d never expect to see him this way. The tops of his cheeks push out as he smiles at his cat, cupping her face between his hands and rocking it back and forth before planting a kiss on her forehead.

She seems to understand that that's her cue to hop off the counter, knowing that snack time is now over as Yoongi starts to clean up the empty containers. When you reach to clean your own mess up he’s quick to slap your hands away, smirking when you retract them with a small wince, your fingers rubbing the back of your palm that he had swatted with a pair of chopsticks.

“Shoo.” He waves his arm in the direction of his couch, not giving you another glance and missing the way you pout at how he had dismissed you like he would his cat.

With a huff you turn on your heel, properly taking in his living room. From the small tidbits of half truthful information that Taehyung had provided you with, you knew Yoongi was somebody in the music industry. You had always assumed that when people said that it meant struggling soundcloud rapper or something of the sort, but from the look of his apartment alone it was very evident that Yoongi was not a struggling soundcloud rapper.

The wall of his living room was lined with floor to ceiling windows, letting you catch a glimpse of the cityscape down below, the darkening horizon and slowly flickering street lights blending together. A dark grey couch was on the wall adjacent to that, directly facing the entertainment center he had set up, complete with a massive mounted television and soundbar, a collection of DVDs organized in the storage unit below it.

You walk closer to it, catching sight of the picture frames he had displayed along the top of it. They were all simple black frames, all differing in size, all of them having photos of Yoongi and his friends on them. The one in particular that had you smiling was a photo booth picture with Yoongi and Namjoon, they were accompanied by three other people, a boy with slightly red tinged hair and a bright smile, another boy with dark brown hair and a slight pout on his face from Namjoon squishing his cheeks, and a girl with light brown hair smiling widely as Yoongi gave her bunny ears.

Namjoon was a very smiley person, never needing a reason to be, but seeing Yoongi sporting a massive gummy smile had you realizing how nicely a smile suited him. It was clear that he held this group of people near to his heart considering they all occupied the remaining photos as well.

A couple of steps right beside that was where he had his prized possession, his record player that he had fully customized to get him the desired sound he was looking for. It was a sleek black, accents of silver shining off of it, resting pretty on a dark stained wooden stand. A few of his records were stored beneath it, but what really caught your eye was the eight by eight makeshift gallery wall that showcased his current favorite LP’s, each individually shelved to show the album art in all its glory.

“Should I give this a listen with you here?”

His question has you turning your head towards him, cutting your admiration of the album covers short. He stood a few feet away, his hands holding up the orange cover of the album he had bought today with your suggestion, and a small sense of nerves bubbles up in your stomach for some reason. You had always suggested music, confident in your choices when you were in the safety of the record store, but having to witness his first impression made you a little uneasy. What if he hated the band entirely, or worse, what if he pretended he didn’t hate them just to soothe your ego.

Is this what he felt like watching you take your first bite of food earlier?

“Sure,” you choke out, taking a giant step back from his record player, hearing him chuckle at your odd behavior.

As he lifts the cover up and slides the giant record out of its sleeve you decide to go sit on the couch, sinking into the plush material and welcoming Yuri into your lap when she jumps on as well.

With a few clicks, the low whirring is heard of the turntable beginning to spin. And when he eases the needle onto the record a small crackle sounds before Get Away starts to play. He fiddles with the volume slightly until satisfied, only then does he turn back around and join you on the couch.

His face is settled in thought, bobbing his head gently to the beat as he rests back against the couch, sinking into it with a groan until he’s fully comfortable, legs spread out with one arm resting casually on his lap and the other on the arm rest, fingers tapping along.

You watch on in silence, your fingers raking through Yuri’s fur until her purring calms your nerves and you’re sagging back. Before you know it your eyes shut as you listen along to the music, your belly is full and your limbs are sore from the unpacking and rearranging that had to be done at work so being able to sit here and shut your brain off while mellow music filled the room was what you needed.

Before long the A side is finished playing, Yoongi having to get up to flip it over until the B side plays all the way through, the ending voicemail of Palace/Curse playing until it fizzles out entirely, the room falling into silence once more.

Yuri had gotten comfortable herself, sprawled out across your lap with her head by your hip, but when Yoongi gets up with a stretch her head pops up, eyes narrowing at her owner until she senses no threat and lays back down.

“Verdict?” You repeat his earlier question, seeing him hunched over with his elbows resting on his knees, his lips pursed in thought.

“Honest opinion?”

“Brutally honest.”

He hums with a sly grin as he turns his head to face you. “They’re good. Kinda makes me feel nostalgic too for some reason. But as a whole, it's great music that calms you down.”

With the way you’re laying practically boneless on his couch you can attest to that, they were definitely a band you listened to to unwind. He catches the wide smile spreading across your face as he stands back up to properly store the record, your smile only getting bigger when you see him replace one of the displayed albums on the wall with the new one.

“It's going on the wall of favorites,” he announces, sliding the previous record back into the storage underneath.

“I’m honored.”

He steps back from the wall with his hands on his hips, admiring how the orange of the album pops out against the others. Yoongi very rarely switched these albums out, but he had a feeling this wall would eventually become full of the random albums you’d recommend to him.

“Quick question,” he starts as he turns back to face you, taking in the sight of you and his cat cuddling together. “It’s been sitting at the back of my mind, and Taehyung has given me like three different answers.”

A small laugh leaves you as you raise your eyebrow at him in question. “Sure, what is it?”

“Where did you move from?”

You stretch your legs out in front of you, your toes just barely reaching the coffee table he has set up a bit away from the couch, Yuri mimicking your actions and stretching out as well. You were definitely gonna grow as attached to her as you were to your roommate’s cat.

“Like where was I last before this, or where am I actually from?”

He walks towards his fridge, still being able to see and hear you due to the open layout of his place. “Both I guess.” The door pops open and he reaches for a bottle of water.“You thirsty?”

“You have some wine, or some beer?”

Yoongi grunts at that, shaking his head slightly, “Sorry, I don’t drink anymore but I’ve got water and juice.”

You’re sitting up straighter now, voicing out that the water was fine. “Where I’m from is classified information, you’ll have to level up on our friendship for me to tell you that.” You accept the water he hands you, smiling at him as he sits back on the couch. He was fine with your secrecy, taking whatever you feel comfortable telling him. “But I was in Madrid before I came here.”

“Oh? Did you leave where you’re from to go live there?”

Your fingers capture Yuri’s paw, squishing her toe beans as she gently swats at your hair. “No, I was in Amsterdam before that, and Berlin before that as well to name a few. I’ve been bouncing around since I was 20, so about 6 years now.”

He has a look of interest on his face as he sips the water, leaning onto the couch sideways to face you. “Do you ever want to go back to those places?”

“Like visiting the place more than once?”

He nods, his eyes focusing on Yuri’s fluffy body, seeing her sitting back up to hop onto the ledge of the couch, rubbing her body against the back of your head before settling on the backrest of it and getting comfy.

“Hm, not sure. I can’t see myself wanting to flip back the pages of my life to reread a story I already know the outcome to.” With a sigh you shrug at him, your fingers now tracing the material of the couch. “Maybe in the future, years from now, I’ll crave a specific memory and want to go back, but it hasn’t happened yet.”

The amount of new cities and countries you’ve been lucky enough to call home for any amount of time held a special place inside of you, the memories and stories you had because of those experiences helped shape you into the person you are. Sure not all of them were movie-like experiences, some close calls happening at a few places that made you question whether you made the right choice living your life the way you did. But then you’d have moments that just felt right, and right now, sitting on this couch with Yoongi, this was one of those moments.

“So you don’t plan on staying here forever?”

“Well what do you mean by forever?”

He smiles, not thinking he would have to explain what forever meant to him. “For the rest of your life. Is there another version of forever Y/N?”

“Shut up,” you laugh. “It’s not likely, but who's to say. I never move somewhere with a time frame of how long I plan on staying.”

“How do you decide? Sorry if I’m prying but I just can’t imagine that moving somewhere new would be easy. Picturing having to leave friends behind would probably wound me.”

That was true, that was definitely the hardest part of doing this— emotionally at least. The people you met and befriended were a factor in deciding how long you’d stay somewhere. After the initial week of exploring a new place, it gets lonely. You’ve been to places where even the roommates you’d stay with weren’t friendly, and you’d have to take it a step further and search for friendships elsewhere. It was the main reason you had learned to not be timid when it came to making the first move.

“It’s kind of a gut feeling. The longest place I’ve lived in was Paris for two years.” A smile spreads across your face as you recall the two years you spent in that city, how you probably would’ve left after a few weeks if you hadn’t ran into that cute boy right before the club you were in shut down for the night. That experience alone was one of the main reasons you made it a conscious decision to not fall in love, not wanting to experience the inevitable heartbreak that came with it.

Paris was the first place you moved to, jumping head first into adventure and taking everything that came with it, including romance. Leaving friends behind had been hard, but leaving Park Jimin behind had been a different version of painful.

“Before this I was in Madrid for a month. I found myself getting comfortable too fast and when I get comfortable I get bored. When it's no longer new and exciting I don’t see the point of staying anymore.”

Yoongi absolutely can not see the logic in the way you live, the carefree aura radiating off of you, but he weirdly craves it. He craves the feeling of not being afraid of not knowing what's coming, being able to just let the cards fall wherever they land. His entire life had changed in the last few years and was now built off routine, bullet point to-do lists and deadlines he had to meet. The only adventure he experiences anymore is thanks to his friends, luring him out of his apartment to fulfil any of their spur of the moment ideas, but nothing comes close to this.

He’s not able to understand how you can be suspended in freefall for the majority of your life, and instead of panicking about your lack of parachute, you’re admiring the view.

“Do you plan on staying here forever?”

That question makes him freeze a little, he had been prying into your life no problem but now that a question was directed at him, he felt himself growing uneasy. “I guess I did.”

“Did...why past tense?”

You see the way he hesitates, his mind is already playing through all the scenarios that can come because of this but he decides to just bite the bullet. “Love makes you think of forever. I pictured forever with my fiance.”

At the mention of a fiance your mind thinks of the girl in the photos with Yoongi, the girl with the bright smile and wide eyes.

Was Yoongi a married man?

He can spot the way you process his vague information, knowing he should elaborate before you think anything else, before your eyes move to his ring finger only to find it bare. “When you’re with someone for almost 8 years its normal to think of forever you know.”

The flashes of his relationship play in his mind, meeting his fiance in his last year of high school. How they had pulled each other out of their shells, becoming rather chaotic in their adventures over the years, turning into adults and supporting each other in every aspect of life.

The memory of Yoongi proposing to her still feels fresh in his mind, taking her to Jeju island since it was a place she had always wanted to visit, not being able to due to caring for her family.

“We were actually planning our wedding, having invitations sent out with everything nearly ready but she uh–“ he stops to breathe slightly, his eyes moving to stare at the picture frames, proving your assumption of the girl being his fiance right. “She got into an accident.”

He hadn’t specified if she died or not, but that faraway look in his eyes spelled it out for you. Forever didn’t have any sympathy for his situation, but he just shrugs it off, forcing himself to not speak further on it. There was more that tied in to the tragic passing of his fiance but he felt he had overshared enough already, not wanting to make you uncomfortable by unloading this information on you. The last thing he needed was to turn this nice day into a pity party with him being the center of attention.

He’s just waiting for the routine apologetic words that would fall from your mouth—maybe you’d reach over and rub his arm like some people did, tell him how sad it was as if he didn’t already know. Some half assed attempt to make him feel better even though you were clearly blind sided by the topic.

Yoongi didn’t want that, always hating the way people would stare at him like he was some charity case. This was why he rarely chose to stray from his circle of comfort, from the people that knew the baggage that came with him and accepted him, keeping his group as tight knit as possible in order to not pick at scabbed over wounds.

When you sigh, he braces for it, mentally accepting that this might be what ends your new formed friendship before you could really creep through the cracks in the wall he built. But instead you reach forward and grasp Yuri once more, scooping her up and bringing her to your chest like a baby. “So Yuri wasn’t the only queen of the house, is that it?”

Yuri purrs in confirmation and Yoongi turns to stare at you again, blinking the wetness away from his eyes before he could even call them tears. You had a smile on your face as you stared at him, not that typical sympathetic smile people always sent his way, it was a genuine one, letting him know he was free to talk more on the subject if he needed to.

And for the first time Yoongi acknowledges that maybe he did need to. He was so used to bottling his emotions in, shutting himself off after her passing, pushing all of his friends and family away and locking himself at home as he mourned, submerging himself in his work to numb himself from feeling anything. Even now, his friends never pried, let him handle his feelings any way he wanted to. But Yoongi can’t act like his chest aches from keeping it all in, the pressure slowly releasing even with the minimal information he had given you.

“Yeah,” he sighs out in relief, reaching out to pet Yuri. “Hani was the queen before Yuri got promoted.”

As you coo at his cat he feels himself sagging back onto the couch. The small dam of emotions he had inside finally released, and before you know it he’s spilling everything out, telling you tidbit stories of him and Hani, and somehow easing you into sharing similar stories of you and Jimin.

The sun fully sets through the windows, neither of you noticing as you talk well into the night, and Yoongi found himself laughing and smiling at the mention of Hani for the first time in two years. You urge him on, watching on with interest while he talks about the day they had picked up Yuri from the shelter.

His eyes are crinkled up in that endearing way you had seen more of today than in the past weeks of knowing him, and it fills you with warmth to know he’s allowing you to know about this part of his life. It felt like sacred information, uncharted territory from the way he had hesitated in the beginning, almost like he wasn’t sure if he could trust you with the precious memories he held tightly. All he needed was a gentle nudge and a genuine smile to slowly let you flip the pages of his brain, knowing you wouldn’t judge the bleeding ink and scratched out words that came with each story.

As he stares at the way you smile at him, he comes to the realization that your sneaky ass must have already managed to slip past the cracks of the walls he built, infiltrating the tight knit circle he had for himself. He has to hold in a laugh when he recalls the way Taehyung had seriously suggested that you might be a spy sent here from another country. Maybe he was onto something, because he was refusing to accept that his willingness to overshare and stray from his norm was due to anything but your highly trained interrogation skills.

You clearly had his cat fooled as well. When Yuri leans up and nuzzles her face against yours he sighs, knowing she had claimed you as her favorite solely based on the attention you gave her. You were good. Yoongi guesses he would have to keep you around now, just for the sake of his cat, nothing more.

#yoongi fluff #yoongi smut #min yoongi #bts fluff #bts fics #btswritingcafe #btsghostie #heartsforbts #bangtaninn #btscreatorscorner #new #eleven months

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thefanficmonster · 4 years ago

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Corpse Infested

Corpse Husband & Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Mentions of dysfunctional family, Family problems, Swearing

Genre: Humor, Comfort, Platonic fluff, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: When your friend disappears for a long time, seemingly having lost interest in what fueled the most passionate fire in their life, you cannot not worry about them. Even if you wanna give them space, you will reach out, you will offer your help. You will tell them they always have you to rely on and talk to.

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! I’m really sorry it’s taken me so long to complete and post your request, but here it finally is! Hope you come across it and if you do I hope you enjoy the read! Love, Vy ❤

For me, it’s never hard to find things to do. I’ve constantly got things on my mind and tasks to tend to, keeping me occupied and my mind focused at all times. I think that comes with living in a home as dysfunctional as this one. I honestly can’t recall a time when my parents got along nor can I think of a time where there was at least one second of peace while the two are both present in the house. It’s always a warzone up there. I’m saying up there because I tend to live out of the basement of their home. I know living in your parents’ basement is considered a peak loser point, or the bottom of the bottom, but you’d have to believe me when I say - I wasn’t always like this. In fact, I only recently came back to this hell-hole and boy do I regret it. I mean, it was a decision forced upon me by circumstances. Trust me, I tried every other option there was. When my dorm was to be closed down and demolished, we were given a notice to start planning our next move about a month early. You can bet I immediately started looking at places but my very tragic and miserable budget didn’t allow such a purchase. No rent was adequate for me and my near-empty wallet so my second option was moving in with my best friend who was also not in the greatest of situations but I thought I’d give that a shot too.

Spoiler alert: it didn’t work out. She lived in a tiny apartment with her boyfriend and his best friend at the time, so four people in one apartment was a nightmare. Still a lesser nightmare than this one but a nightmare nonetheless. Some unwanted and downright traumatizing events chased me out of that place after barely managing to pack my stuff. Therefore, finding myself on the streets again, I had no other option other than the obvious and least liked one: moving back in with my parents.

Making money during my first year of college hasn’t been easy. Working two jobs at once and also streaming video games on the side was what my time was filled with all throughout the first semester but then this damn pandemic started and now ruined everything for me. I had things going for me, I was slowly getting my life together and now it has all fallen apart yet again. The places I worked at closed down due to quarantine and I haven’t been able to steam, not only cause I’d be the victim of my parents’ comments but also cause my terrible home life would be exposed to all my fans and viewers. It’s not like I could cancel out the commotion going on right above my head, it’s a livestream and this house’s walls are cardboard thin meaning all the arguing I hear almost 24/7 will serve as background noise for my streams.

I haven’t reached out to my friends or fans to inform them of this which I feel slightly guilty about but I’m really not looking forward to having to lie to them, just as much as I’m not looking forward to having to tell them the truth so instead I’ve picked silence which is probably either worrying them or driving them insane. Either way, I’ll make my comeback soon.

Well....not very soon by the looks of it...

I have to gather the money, then I have to find a place, then comes the packing, moving out of here, moving into the new place...oh God, there’s so much to it that I don’t even wanna think about. Just that thought that I’ll be inactive for that long makes my stomach turn. Streaming’s where I’ve been channeling all my negative emotions, turning them into something positive and entertaining with the help of my friends.

Speaking of my friends, I should probably put emphasis on how amazing they are. Basically the older siblings I’ve always wished I had. I’m the baby of the group, the eighteen year old freshman in college, powering through life the best they can cause they are constantly getting tripped up by inconvenient occurrences such as this one for example. I tend to have the gang poke fun at me quite frequently - all lighthearted and with good intentions obviously - but they are also the ones to get super defensive if anyone gets the balls to talk shit about me. They’d never allow me to be the victim of any smack talk or online rumors and ‘cancel culture’ or whatever the hell people will come up with to leave others restless and wondering if they did something shady a decade ago. Well, to be fair, I didn’t even know about the concept of social media a decade ago and I’ve never been one to post much but I still have a protection squad in case anyone decides to come after me.

Little do they know the people I need protecting from are the very people that are supposed to protect me - my parents. Luckily, they don’t venture into to basement very often if at all and I have my own exit to the outside world so I don’t have to run into them unless I absolutely have to. The only time I emerge to the surface of the house - aka the ground floor - I do so to leave my share of rent money on the dining table and I usually do it when they aren’t home or when they’re asleep - that happens often with how many bottles they each knock back on the daily.

*sigh*...at least I don’t have to talk to them, right?

Anyhow, remember how I mentioned I always have things to do? Well, right now I’ve tasked myself with rifling through the large boxes containing random stuff I found in one of the basements down here to see if there’s anything I could possibly sell online. For starters, I’d like to hope there aren’t any severed body parts in here because this was one shady-ass basement before I moved in and un-creeped it a bit so I wouldn’t have to become an insomniac due to the paranoia of there being a homeless person down here with me or some paranormal entity. Regardless, old basements tend to be, apart from haunted, also filled with junk no one would find valuable despite it actually being worth something after all. That’s basically what I’m hoping to find at the moment.

As I dig through the contents of the first box, the YouTube playlist I have put on on my phone cuts off causing me to furrow my brows in confusion for a second before my ringtone pierces the silence the lack of music created.

I quickly mute the ringing and take a look at the Caller ID to see a name I never thought would pop up on my screen as an incoming call - Corpse. I, as well as many of our friends, know that he’s not the biggest fan of talking to people on the phone so this is rather surprising. Still, I pick up the call in case it’s not a mistake and an odd chance that it’s somethin urgent cause Lord knows Corpse doesn’t call people willy-nilly.

Thank God it’s quiet up there at the moment.

“Hello?“ I try my best to cover up the confusion in my voice but I can only assume I didn’t do the best job considering Corpse replies with a slightly awkward chuckle.

“Surprised you, didn’t I?“ He asks, getting my cheeks to redden a bit, “You can’t blame a guy for calling after up and disappearing on him and on the whole internet. Where’ve you been?“

I open my mouth to respond when I hear the sound of glass breaking a shouted curse from upstairs.

Oh for fuck’s sake!

“Um...you know, places?“ I’m aware the answer isn’t only nonsensical but also sounds more like a question, but I can hardly focus on that right now. I’m too buys praying to an entity I don’t fully believe in for the situation above to not escalate.

“Uh, is everything ok over there? Where even are you right now?“ The teasing tone to his voice is all but gone at this point, replaced with deep concern, having obviously heard the commotion that did the exact opposite of what I prayed for - escalated.

“Y-yeah, it’s ok. It’s just another Thursday, you know.“ I attempt a small laugh but it’s blatantly miserable, “I moved back in with my parents when they announced the quarantine so that’s where I’m at now. They’re not the quietest of folks as you can tell so...“

“I FUCKING HATE YOU, YOU PIECE OF SHIT! I HOPE YOU DIE“

Oh crap, here we go.

“...So I can’t really stream a lot...or at all.“ I mutter, cringing with all my might, “But it’s only temporary! I’ll get back in the saddle as soon as I find another place to stay.“ I don’t dare mention how long that’s gonna take me, it’ll be too disappointing and depressing for the both of us. “So yeah...um...thanks for showing concern but there’s really nothing to worry about. I’m ok, everything’s ok, things are just...a bit off the rails, but I’ll fix em no problem. Like I always do!“ I attempt to sound as cheerful as possible with little success due to the overwhelming anger I feel towards those people upstairs and the gut-wrenching nostalgia for the world of streaming I can no longer be a part of because of them. Actually, I put the blame first on the pandemic and second on my parents - if it wasn’t for Covid I’d probably still be in my dorm!

“Hey...um, I think I know an affordable place where you can take up residence. Only if you want to, of course.“ He sounds hesitant but I easily overlook that as excitement bursts throughout my entire being at the sound if an escape being offered to me just like that. Had I known I’d find the solution to my problem in the very people I spent time avoiding because I was afraid of their pity, sympathy and judgement.

“Oh please, it could be a rat and roach infested shoe box and I’d go running to it. How much is rent?“ I ask through a gasp of hurried laughter that’s a result of my inability to contain said excitement. Listen, I’ve been sitting here in Hellsburg for three months now and haven’t gotten a proper shuteye during that whole period, whatever Corpse is offering has to be better than this misery.

“Rent can be discussed once you move in...“ He trails off, “And it’s not rat nor roach infested but there’s a slight issue...“

“Which is?“ I’m honestly expecting the worst: in a bad neighborhood; faulty wiring with a high chance of being electrocuted; faulty piping with a high chance of flooding; people have died there; things get randomly moved around in the middle of the night etc. However, I don’t voice any of them to avoid getting laughed at for my wild imagination.

“Well, uh, it’s corpse infested.“ He says a little awkwardly, causing me to let out an inaudible sigh.

So my ‘people have died there’ guess was on point, huh?

“People have died there, huh? Well, I can turn a blind eye to that as long as I don’t find their bodies in the closet or meet their spirits at 3AM.“ I attempt to joke, now second-guessing my eagerness to accept the offer.

Corpse bursts out laughing his ass off at my statement, getting me to furrow my eyebrows in confusion and wonder what I said was so funny - it was a poor attempt at a joke, it in no way deserves that sort of reaction, barely a chuckle in my opinion.

“You’re golden, Y/N, I swear.“ He says once he forces the laughter to subside, “I meant corpse infested as in Corpse Husband infested.“ He breaks out in another fit as my brain slowly starts connecting the dots.

Oooohh he’s asking me to go live with him

“Wait. Wait, wait, wait, hold up for a sec. Are you aware of what you’re offering me? I mean, we’ve never met IRL, you barely know me and....and for all you know I could be the serial killer in this situation!“ I have no idea why I’m pushing my luck, don’t ask. I just don’t want him to make a decision he’ll later regret, I guess. “Like, I could kill you in your sleep!“

“Would you?“ He asks confidently, silently stating he already knows the answer.

I roll my eyes, “Of course not! But...” He cuts me off.

“Great, the offer stands on my end. I’m not a noisy nor nosey roommate so I suggest you start packing. If you choose to live in that hell-hole over living with me, I’m sorry but I’ll be hella offended, just so you know.“

Corpse sounds like he’s about to hang up on me, a decision already made, so I hurry to stop him. “Wait! What about rent?”

“Fuck the rent, pack your bags.“ And just like that, despite my efforts, he hangs up on me.

Well...this is a chance of a lifetime that I know refusing would lead me to not only remain stuck here but also put me in the hugest loser bin. There’s also the fear of being Corpse’s burden which I’ll try my best not to be - I mean, I’m a super independent person and Lord knows that if this offer came any other time or from any other person, I would’ve declined asap, no discussion.

But streaming

But sleeping properly

But having a normal life again

Yeah those are most certainly the reasons I get up and go into the closet in search on my emptied suitcase. Time to fill it up again, I guess. This time with a smile on my face and excitement fueling each and every movement of mine.

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folkloreguk · 4 years ago

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❥ My Sweet Evil Heart (C.Chanhee)

A/N: I wrote this as part of an angel/demon collab for The Boyz! You can find the masterlist HERE. This was really fun to write and I got to live out my alternate universe dream in which I'm a detective...I hope you like it, I'm always welcome to any form of feedback!

genre: demon!Chanhee, detective!reader, angst, fluff, reader is constantly sleep deprived, Chanhee is the sweetest demon ever

synopsis: You, a highly respected detective in your department, are investigating a case of a very strange demon who seems hesitant to do evil...but can you trust someone who is supposed to be the personification of wickedness?

words: ~ 10.6k

Have you ever met someone deeply unhappy? Someone who seems to, at all times, be fighting a war inside of themselves? Have you ever felt empathy for somebody, even though they tested you, over and over, as if the worst part inside of them was trying to make them lose you on purpose? Did you hold on and never stop believing in them? Or did you say something to drive them away, making them think they would only hurt you in the process of you trying to make them see clearer?

This is the story of a demon, whose every cell demurred at his evil nature. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves and start with the basics.

Being one of the head detectives at the local police station was not an easy-going, nor an amusing job. Whilst working on serious cases, lacking proper sleep was not an uncommon occurrence for you, and in some instances, self-care came up short until the mystery had been solved and the guilty ones were locked away. Every case pulled you in and swallowed you whole, keeping you deeply invested for days and nights until your brain felt like it had turned to mush and your body worked on autopilot, until you functioned a little like a highly intelligent zombie. And yet, you couldn’t imagine yourself doing anything else in your life. The thrill was close to an obsession, and seeing justice being served thanks to your work was more addicting than any drug could ever be to you.

Most crimes in your world were committed by demons, of course. They were your worst enemies, the monsters you saw in your nightmares and the reason you never strolled down a street without a gun by your hip. It wasn’t forbidden for them to walk the earth, so long as they kept to themselves. Their evil nature made it almost impossible for them to uphold these terms, though. You wished you could lock them all away in some putrid prison cell, or better yet, send them back to where they crawled out from originally. But the law couldn’t convict beings before they had done anything wrong. So, it was on you to make sure you kept an eye on the sinister beings, figure out what they were up to and stop them before they could actually hurt somebody. Like that morning, when you were called to a liquor store to investigate a break-in.

“My name is Y/F/N Y/L/N, I am the lead investigator,” you greeted the store owner with a handshake upon arrival. “Can you tell me exactly what happened?”

“I came here this morning at around 7 to open up the store. When I got out of my car, I saw the broken glass of the window,” he explained.

“What was taken from inside the store?” you inquired further.

“That’s the weird thing. Nothing is missing from inside,” he said.

“We might just be dealing with vandalism,” you thought out loud. “Do you have security cameras?”

He did, and so you went along with him to the back of the store. It was true, the interior of the shop seemed completely untouched. You suspected whoever had done this had never even intentioned on entering. There was a college campus not too far from the store, and you recalled countless times you had witnessed careless vandalism done by some intoxicated students during a Friday night. It was a very human-like crime. Demons weren’t known to do things by halves. Their crimes were usually the go-big-or-go-home-type of crimes. But then, when you watched the security footage, you were stunned.

At precisely 3:29 am, a dark figure appeared in front of the window. They lifted their arms, swinging a baseball bat against the glass. And against your speculation, they did climb through the hole in the window. With no mask or disguise whatsoever, the demon man looked right into the camera in the corner of the room. The abyss of darkness in his pitch black eyes was unmistakable. He looked around, as if he was debating on whether he should have done more, but then, to your utter confusion, spun around on his heel and climbed right back out the window.

You assured the store owner you would be looking into this case. With nothing left to do, you headed back to the police station. You had taken the security footage with you, and the moment you arrived in your office, you played it on your computer screen. Over and over - only puzzling you more, with each rerun you saw. You worried this might only be a warning. Not seldom had you been a witness to demons playing with their prey, feeding off the fear of innocent souls. Was this one indulging in one of those little twisted games? Right away, you uploaded the demon’s face onto the database for criminals, even if vandalism didn’t compare to the serious allegations that stood against other faces on that list. While you turned your attention to other cases, his features wouldn’t leave your mind. Even when you left your office at night, he was still the most prominent person in your memory.

By the time you began your walk to your home, the sun had disappeared. You couldn’t help it, even if technically you could finish work earlier, your desire to solve your assigned cases was always higher. Had you just walked home at 5 pm, you were sure to end up on your computer at home, researching and digging around on the web to discover possible clues. This way, at least you had all resources you would need at your office at the police station.

Now, in the dark, the streets were rather abandoned, most shops had already closed, and the moon dimly cast light through the clouds. Those conditions were what made it a breeze for you to notice your shadow. The figure had been following you for 5 minutes now. Judging by how carelessly loud their steps sounded and by their not-so subtle choices of hiding spots, you could tell this wasn’t something they had practice in. Purposely, you didn’t turn around, so they wouldn’t realize you had caught on to them a while ago. Instead, only a minute or so from your home, you took a turn left into an abandoned alleyway. Your hand was on the gun in your belt.

Just as you had stepped into the alley, you turned. He was right behind you. With dark orbs glaring and teeth snarling he came at you, knife in hand. Your eyes widened – you recalled his face vividly – as you took in the situation in the blink of an eye. After all, you had watched the security tape of him breaking into the liquor store countless times only hours ago. But you had the upper hand from the very moment you had spun around. His build wasn’t particularly strong, but you knew you should never underestimate demons. You grabbed his shoulders and along with him, your body crashed against the red brick wall to your left. He struggled against your grip, but his determined and feisty expression was the by far the most intimidating part about him. His face was inches from yours but looking into the sort of darkness that were demon’s eyes did nothing to you. Your hand was around his wrist with the knife – which he was aggressively trying to bring down on you – but only at first.

Because suddenly, something uncommon occurred. So uncommon, in fact, that not a single cell in your body could believe it. He willingly dropped the blade. It hit the asphalt, the metallic sound echoing in your ears. He relaxed his arm in your iron grip. Demons never gave up. They fought until you had forcefully brought them to the ground or done worse to them. Their ironic god-complex and evilness didn’t allow them to step away from a fight – until this one had come along, apparently. And then, as if his behavior hadn’t already stunned you enough, he did the unthinkable.

“I’m sorry,” he said. Without a doubt you thought you had misheard him. Swiftly, you pulled your gun out of your belt and pointed it at his face. One thing you knew. You weren’t going to play along in his little games. In panic, he rose his hands, showing defeat.

“Quit playing games, devil’s son,” you hissed. “What is it you’re trying to achieve here? You’re sorry? For what?”

He was hesitant. With every second, your curiosity only grew. Either, he was a skilled actor or…you had no idea what else it could’ve been about him.

“I almost killed you. That’s what I’m sorry for,” he said. “Does that get me a prison sentence?”

Your eye twitched because this didn’t seem right at all.

“You broke into a shop and attacked me, but then stopped out of your free will,” you assessed the situation. “You’ll most likely get away with a fine and your name in our register.”

If you had been awaiting an evil grin or any sort of enjoyment in his face, you’d be waiting endlessly. If anything, he seemed to be…disappointed?

“But you’re a cop, right?” he said. “You can lock me up, can’t you?”

“Didn’t you hear what I said? You won’t be locked up if you don’t commit a crime severe enough. As much as I hate it, considering you demons are running free, it’s the law,” you said.

“You don’t get it,” he said. And he was right, you really had no idea. “I should be locked up. You need to get me to jail before I hurt somebody.”

His face was dead serious, but you didn’t want to believe a single word. How could you, when your daily life consisted of hunting down his kind, because all they brought upon the earth was chaos and death?

“Give me one good reason why I should believe you,” you said, unimpressed.

“I will tell you anything you want to hear,” he said. “If you bring me to a police station. You guys have these lie detectors, don’t you? I will take a test if that’s what it takes for you to believe me.”

So, that was how half an hour later you still hadn’t returned at home, but rather found yourself back at the police station. Almost everyone had gone home by now, so you took the liberty to choose the biggest interrogation room available. A few minutes and he was sitting in front of you, hands in handcuffs and his body connected to the lie detector.

“Okay, here’s how this works. I’ll start by asking some simple questions, and then we’ll get to the bottom of whatever your intentions are,” you explained.

“Alright. Go ahead,” he said. This was your first time seeing a demon take this sort of test. Usually, you couldn’t be bothered because you knew all they did was lie whilst smiling you in the face.

“What’s your name?”

“Choi Chanhee.”

“Where were you born?”

“In hell.”

“Did you break into a liquor store last night?”

“Yes.”

“Did you intend on killing me tonight?”

“…Yes.”

“Is that your definite answer?”

“…No.”

“How come both of your last two answers are lies?” you asked. “You didn’t intend on killing me, but yes is your definite answer?”

“I can’t stop the evil in me but I’m trying,” he said. You were stunned. The answer was the most truthful of them all.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“I was never like the others since I came to earth. I’ve never felt a rush like they do, causing mischief and hurting humans. I don’t belong. It’s as if there was a demon inside of me, but it’s not controlling all of me, do you understand?” he said.

“I’m not sure, but go on,” you said.

“I don’t want to hurt anybody or destroy things. But on some days, I’m walking down the street and my body starts following the devil’s orders instead. I usually snap out of it quickly and stop myself. That’s why you’re still alive,” he explained.

“You’re telling me you’re some sort of good demon?” you asked. “Why don’t you go back to hell, if you’re struggling so much on earth?”

“I hate it there,” he said. “And either way, I’m banned from there forever.”

Your head raised as you stared at him.

“Banned?” you asked.

“I stopped a bunch of demons from killing a woman once,” he said. “Safe to say they weren’t happy to hear that, back at home. I couldn’t go back, even if I wanted to.”

“Can you tell me the name of the woman?” you asked. And he did. All this time, he really had been telling the truth. When you searched up the woman’s name in the computer, it only confirmed your suspicion. She really had been under attack when an unidentified person had interrupted and saved her life.

“I can tell you names of demons,” he said. “If you do me the favor of locking me up, I can sell out everyone I know about.”

You massaged the sides of your head and sighed. This guy really was one of a kind.

“I already told you, I can’t put you in jail for something you didn’t do,” you said. “That’s against the law, and then it’ll be me who ends up behind bars instead of you. I’ll have to let you go.”

“What if I mess up?” he said. The amounts of firsts you were experiencing in the timespan of an hour were giving you a headache. Never had you felt compassion for a demon before. But you were only human, and when you noticed the genuine concern and insecurity in his soft voice, you couldn’t stop yourself.

“How long have you been on earth for?” you asked.

“I don’t know, a few years, I guess?” he said.

“And in those few years, which of your deeds would you rate the most criminal out of all?” you asked. Any other demon would have been able to give you multiple answers, one more vicious than the other. He, on the other hand, took his time and even when he answered, he didn’t sound at all sure.

“I’ve broken into a house before, destroyed a car window and one time I stole a dog,” he confessed with his head tilted towards the floor.

“What happened to the dog?”

“I…gave it back,” he said. A laughter erupted from your throat against your will. In a friendly manner, you pat his shoulder before retrieving the keys to his handcuffs.

“Trust me, you’ll be just fine out there,” you said. “Whatever it is you’re doing to stop yourself from being evil, it’s working. I will let you go now."

Even though he wasn’t happy with your answer, he knew he had no choice but to comply. As you walked him through the hallways towards the exit of the station, you could only think of one thing: your beloved bed. Not only your body but especially your brain was drained from energy. You desperately needed a refill by getting a good night’s sleep.

“You’re the first person who’s been really kind to me,” he said, as you held the door open for him. The night air was cool, and you quickly zipped up your jacket to your chin.

“You gave me no reason not to be,” you replied.

“I almost stabbed you,” he said, bluntly.

“Almost.”

“For most people, me being a demon is reason enough to loathe me.”

“Well I guess I’m not most people,” you said. His smile was gentle, but his black eyes would always give him away. “I’ll be here at the station every day, if you have any concerns or need somebody to consult. But right now, all I want is my bed.”

“I understand,” he replied. “Thank you. Goodbye.”

“Good night,” you said, before you parted ways. Once more, you journeyed home. He remained on your mind until the moment you slipped off to dreamland that night.

The days passed without a trace of him. You followed your routine, but one thing you couldn’t help. You simply had to tell every person who worked with you about the changed demon you had met. No one really wanted to believe you. It was kind of understandable. Some thought you were testing their skills, seeing if they could figure out you were lying. Others went as far as to suspect your lack of sleep had given you hallucinations. But you didn’t let it go. And after all, you were a highly respected member of the police force. Some said they wanted to meet this demon gentleman, as they had renamed him.

But then you were called to a brand new homicide investigation and all of the jokes at the station were blown away by the intensity and buzz the case brought with it. You had a murder to solve. There was no place for sweet demon men in any part of your brain. Not for now. And as always, you slipped into old habits – staying up all night, living on coffee and quick meals – the toxic behavior was almost inescapable. Your fellow detectives tried their best to keep you healthy and most importantly, sane. They took you with them to get salad for lunch, invited you over for game nights (a futile attempt at giving you a break) and told you to go to sleep on time. After all, they needed your brain to function at full capacity for the case. You knew people were relying on your knowledge, and you weren’t doubting your capabilities. But a highly intelligent zombie was still a zombie. And so it happened that one Thursday night your boss sent you home. Not because you weren’t doing a good job – rather for of the opposite reason.

“You are allowed back at the station when you’ve caught a full night’s sleep. Do what it takes to take care of yourself,” your boss had said. Her tone displayed as much strictness as her eyes showed concern. Truth be told, you were too exhausted to even argue against her order. That’s when you knew. You really needed a rest. You dragged your body home.

“Hello sweetheart,” you greeted your pet bird, who chirped excitedly when you set foot into your apartment. “Guess what. I’m home early.”

As much as you wanted to drop into a slumber right away, your stomach growled. And you weren’t in the mood to wake up half-starved. As you prepared some left-overs from the fridge, you heard your bird call from the living room. “Peek-a-boo!” he sang. It caught your attention. He only played this game with you – when you were outside in your small garden and he was watching you through the window. So who exactly was he talking to, now?

You picked up a knife, because as a detective it was practically your job to be paranoid, and tiptoed into the living room. It would be harder for an intruder to spot you in the dark, so you pushed the light switch. Slowly, you advanced to the window and gently pulled the curtains aside. A shiver ran down your spine when you saw the figure standing between the trees. They didn’t seem to be hiding, if anything they were lazily resting their back against the garden fence. Maybe they weren’t aware you were watching them. Bold of them to assume they could intimidate you by acting so nonchalant. You cracked the window open slightly.

“If you don’t leave my property within the next ten seconds, I’ll have you arrested for trespassing,” you announced. The figure flinched. The moment he stepped into the moonlight and raised his arms, you remembered his face.

“Choi Chanhee?” You opened the terrasse door and stepped outside.

“Are you going to hurt me?” he asked, eyes glued to the knife in your hands. Quickly, you lowered your hand.

“What are you doing here?” you asked instead of answering his question.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” he admitted.

“And so you thought creeping around in a police woman’s backyard was an appropriate thing to do? Wait…have you been stalking me?” you asked. You should have cut back on the sharp tone, but you felt half-asleep and this was the last thing you needed. Plus, the immanent realization hit you, that you had not noticed him at all. You had been so caught up in your work that you had not recognized a demon lingering around your home address, watching you. It hurt your pride a little – and could have ended very differently, had it been a more malovent demon than the one standing in front of you. This one looked terrified, kneading his hands nervously.

“I thought you wouldn’t be upset with me…that maybe you would understand. Because you’ve been the only one who’s listened to me. I’m just trying to find a purpose,” he said, “And my head tells me you’re the right direction.”

Demons. They’ve always had a fondness for the dramatic. But his words tore at your heart strings. His behavior resembled a child who had done wrong and was in the process of being scolded.

“Do you have no home?” you asked, softening your voice.

“I’ve lived with other demons. But they don’t want me there, anymore,” he said. For obvious reasons, you thought. Your head was racing. There was no way you could leave him standing there in the cold. But letting a demon into your home sounded like you must have had a death wish. It’s not like you didn’t have enough space, though. With an extra guest bedroom that nobody had ever used before, he would be just fine. There was no excuse. You cursed your parents for making you get a bigger apartment “In case you got married and had children soon.” You never know what could happen, they had said. And how wrong they had been, but how right they had been on that last part.

“Would you say you’re a tidy person?” you asked. A gigantic yawn came over you, and once again your stomach grumbled.

“What? I mean…I think so?” he said.

“Are you hungry?” You were in disbelief. Maybe it was the zombie in you that had a heart so soft, it took pity on a demon.

“I’m starving,” he said.

And that was how you came to have dinner with a demon. Spoiler alert: It wouldn’t be the last time. You ate quietly, trying hard to fight tiredness but it was no use. Afterwards, you showed him the room he could stay in.

“How do I make this up to you?” he asked.

“We’ll think about that another time, alright?” you said, “I need to sleep now. I’ve got an unsolved murder case waiting on me tomorrow.”

That night, you locked your bedroom door and slept with your gun on your nightstand. Just in case. Even though you were almost fully convinced the demon in the bedroom across the hall was more harmless than a five-year-old, he was still a demon.

When you woke up and saw your boss’ message on your phone, you couldn’t believe it. She wanted you to stay at home for the day. Apparently, you needed the rest and she had no interest in getting into trouble for overworking you (which she obviously wasn’t, you were the one doing this to yourself). When you walked down the stairs, you had almost forgotten about the previous night. It felt a little like it had all just been one wild fever dream – that was, until you spotted the demon sitting on your sofa, your pet bird on his shoulder.

“I let him out, I hope that was okay,” he said. You were dumbfounded. “Listen, I just wanted to say…thank you. Tell me whatever you need me to do and I’ll get it done for you.”

You wanted to go to work. But you knew he would be no help making that possible. Your mind was already wandering off to your case, the tips of your fingers burning with anticipation to search the internet for clues. Your grumbling belly interrupted your eagerness.

“Um…you could go to the grocery store for me?” you asked.

You went back to work the next day. Unsure of what to do, you decided to keep your demon housemate a secret for now. The other detectives would have probably written you off as insane, and you needed them to take you seriously. To be fair, maybe you were a little crazy. But he had been really good on the first day. Only one incident, which involved him dropping an egg on the kitchen floor, stood out to you. Of course, that could happen to anyone. But any other person would not have apologized in the way that he did. Normal people wouldn’t have acted so guilty, had it been an accident. But as long as his malice remained to that extent, you could live with it. You almost laughed at the idea of him purposely watching the egg roll off the counter and not doing anything.

He sure was strange. But little did you know, his egg-dropping shananigans were only the beginning of his uncontrollable little pranks he would pull on you.

Once he let your bird fly out the window. When you came home you discovered him outside, talking to your bird, begging him to come back inside. Little did he know, all it took was a whistle and a few treats and you had him sitting on your shoulder, ready to go back inside. One night you returned home to find him staring at the ceiling in the dining room, a kitchen towel in his hand. When you asked him what he was trying to achieve there, he told you there was a mosquito sitting above him.

“So, why don’t you kill it?” you asked. He looked shocked.

“Kill it?” he asked, “We should probably just shoo it outside.”

That’s when you knew. Choi Chanhee wouldn’t hurt a fly. Literally. All those times you had worried about leaving him home alone with your bird vanished in an instant as you laughed.

“You’re right. Killing is one of the worst sins. But sometimes, especially when it comes to mosquitoes, you don’t need to worry about any consequences. If anything, I’ll be grateful,” you assured him.

Another instance made you think maybe you had been too quick to judge him as harmless. When you walked into your bathroom in the morning, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you almost jumped out of your skin. A red substance stuck to your mirror in what seemed to be random shapes. On impulse, you called his name. On second look, you realized what he had done. The red was merely ketchup, and the random shapes weren’t so random, but they spelled “meeting at 2 pm”. When Chanhee appeared in the doorframe, he already wore his sorry expression.

“What did you think you were doing here?” you said. “You know where the post-it notes are!”

“I- He- The demon in me wanted to scare you…I’m so sorry,” he said. It was difficult to be mad at him when he was so sweet. You had, after all, told him to remind you of your meeting you had that day. He was so easy to forgive, too. Whenever he went to buy groceries, he returned with a bouquet of flowers, and after he had figured out your favorite candy, he made sure you never ran out of your supply. You liked being alone, but suddenly it felt nice to have someone waiting for you at home. A warm sensation filled your heart whenever he asked you about your day during dinner.

Even if after dinner you had to argue with him as if he was your son, because the demon in him had decided to take on the form of a teenage boy who was too lazy to take out the trash. You were still seated at the table, rolling your eyes at the demon’s horrible attempt at being evil.

“Don’t make me ask you one more time,” you threatened him, although you didn’t know what you would have done had he continued to argue against you. Only when he reached for the knife that he had already put down tidily on his plate, your eyes widened. His knuckles were white around the metal and you leaned back instinctively. Your gun was still in your belt – you had sat down for dinner straight after returning home – but you didn’t want to use it. Not on him.

“Chanhee,” you spoke in a calm tone. His face was unreadable. He wasn’t making eye contact. Instead, his gaze was glued onto the blade in his hand, staring blankly. His eyes blinked, almost robotically. Something changed in his demeanor then. There was a tremble in the hand that was clutching the knife. It grew more uneasy by each passing moment. Your heart was pounding in your chest and you kept your eyes trained on him, trusting your reflexes.

“Fine,” he suddenly said in a grumpy tone. Then he dropped the knife. The metallic sound rang in your ears for seconds afterward. You let out the breath you didn’t know you had been holding on to, as you watched him get up and retrieve the full trash bag from under the sink. You had been sleeping with your bedroom door unlocked for weeks. Even though it pained you, that night you locked your door again.

At 3:28 am you awoke to the sound of breaking glass. You allowed yourself to yawn and rub the sleep out of your eyes for just a moment, then you were on your feet. Gun in hand, you opened your door. Across the hall, the door to Chanhee’s room stood ajar. Light came from downstairs.

“Chanhee?” you called quietly. No answer. But your ears picked up shuffling and the sound of shards of glass being moved around. You approached slowly, trying not to give yourself away. Then you heard the quiet sobs. Your arm with the gun dropped to your side when you stepped into the kitchen.

He was sitting on the floor like he was one of the shattered pieces of glass himself. When he saw you, he flinched and tried to dry away his tears. But it was no use. They kept coming, and you had already seen them either way.

“I dropped it on purpose,” he said, referring to the broken glass. Another sob went through his body, making your chest ache at the sight of him. “I’m sorry.”

“I have nine more of those. It’s alright,” you assured him. Gently, you sat down by his side. You put your arms around his hunched frame. He stiffened at first but calmed his muscles after a moment and let you hold him.

“Shh, it’s okay,” you said. Whatever it was that was hurting him so much, you’d be here to fight it off for him.

“I can’t stop the evil in me,” he cried. His weeps seeped through your skin and tugged at your organs. It felt like a thousand tiny, sharp needles in your heart.

“It’s a part of you. It’ll never fully go away. But look at you, you’re doing such a good job holding it inside of you,” you whispered. He shuddered.

“I tried to kill you,” he stated. “I don’t deserve you. You’re so kind. You do all this for me, and I tried to kill you.”

“But you didn’t,” you said. “And that’s what counts. We all have urges inside of us…but it’s what we end up doing that truly counts and makes us who we are.”

“But it’s so hard,” he cried. His face was in the crook of your neck as he sniffled. The small teardrops that touched your skin felt like ice. “And all I do is bother you. I’m an inconvenience. Why don’t you just lock me up with the other demons? Why give me another chance every time I mess up?”

You couldn’t believe he would hate himself so much. Chanhee had more compassion than a lot of the humans you knew had. Some days he sat and pet your bird for hours just because it made him happy, he always had money on him to give to the homeless people in front of the grocery store and he almost cried thinking he forgot to pay for an item at the store (which you had obviously paid for).

“How could you even compare yourself to other demons?” you said. “If you want, I will take you in to work with me sometime. Then you’ll see the atrocities others commit. Even among humans, you’d still be sorted into the best of the best. I believe in you and that you will do good.”

He only sobbed harder at what you had said, and you felt the need to pull him in just a little tighter. You softly rocked your bodies in an attempt to calm him down.

“I would fall apart without you.” Between the hiccups and tears his words sounded like a broken confession, but that’s why they hit so hard.

“You’re not alone in this. I’m here for you,” you whispered, lips right by his ear. Your hands were in his hair, stroking his head as if you could pour all your emotions into this one gesture. What else could you do to show him you would never abandon him the way his demon people had? And it seemed to do the trick. His fists that had been clutching your shirt loosened up and his sorrowful crying turned into mellow breathing on your skin.

“Aren’t you sleepy?” you asked. “Let’s get you back to sleep. Tomorrow things will be better.”

“I haven’t been able to sleep well for three days,” he said. “But I need to clean this up first.”

He let go of you and started to pick up shards of glass. There was still a haggard expression on him, and his cheeks were painted red and tear stained. And yet he was determined.

“Let me do this,” you said, touching his arm. “You can’t even keep your eyes open. Go to bed, Chanhee.”

This time, he didn’t argue. But his good behavior didn’t stop the apologetic, almost battered look at you. He knew you would be by his side no matter what – but what he needed most was his own forgiveness. And you could tell by the way he spoke about himself that it would take a while until he was ready to accept himself as he was.

You heard his heavy steps on the stairs as he walked to his room. Quickly, you gathered the biggest shards of glass and then used a hand brush to collect the tiny pieces. This wasn’t what you had signed up for when you had taken him in. You thought you’d have to argue with him daily and that you’d miss having your personal space and privacy. You knew it would be new, living with another person after living alone for so long. But nothing could have prepared you for the way Chanhee had swept you off your feet with his adorable charms. You didn’t need to fake excitement when you came home to him, nor did you ever have to force yourself to tell him about your day or have any conversation with him, for that matter. He was truly enchanting with the way he made you care so much. Especially when you had assumed all demons were your sworn enemies.

When you finally dragged your tired body upstairs, you softly pushed open the door to his room, only to see him lying wide awake.

“Can’t sleep?” you asked. “Even though you’re so exhausted?”

“No,” he spoke. Even his voice made no attempt at hiding the sleepiness. His look was pleading. “Can you please stay with me…just for a little while?”

There was no way you could say no to his lovely gaze and messy hair and outstretched arms. So, you crawled in next to him under the covers. Your faces were inches apart. The last time you had been looking into a demon’s eyes this close-up he had been lying face-up and dead on the side of a road. Those eyes had been lifeless, and yet you felt like they had still held so much ferociousness, even in death. Now you only saw concern and genuine care in the black orbs across from you. You admired his softly sculpted face. It was one that seemed like it would much rather belong to an angel.

“You’ve been working so much,” he whispered. “You must be much more tired than me.”

“I’m used to it,” you said, “I enjoy my work because I’m doing it to help others.”

“You’re a good person,” he stated. There was something in his voice you couldn’t make out. Regret? Admiration?Maybe it was both.

“So are you, Chanhee,” you said. Without second thought, you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his cheek. He didn’t flinch nor pull away. Instead, his pretty lips curled into a smile as he closed his eyes, ready to finally drift off to dreamland.

From that night on he seemed to improve a little, day by day. No more breaking things or having to argue about simple house chores. It occurred to you almost as if he had turned into something more human – so much that you dared to take him to work with you. People there had found the idea of your new demon friend strange, and you were sure some would take more than a little convincing to let down their guard around him. You couldn’t blame them for the prejudices – you had once been the same, after all. But Chanhee was okay with it, even when you had explained to him that some people might hate him, just because of his black eyes and what they meant to people. He had lived years of receiving that sort of treatment. Nonetheless, it pained you to think about how used he was to it. It took bravery and thick skin to walk into a police station the way he did that day. He was fascinated, looking behind the scenes. Perhaps you found it amusing how alarmed everyone was when they first laid eyes on him at the station. His ability to turn around their views of his species within twenty seconds or less was nothing but astonishing. He very willingly took it upon himself to walk down to the nearest coffee shop and order ten cups, also earning him the sympathy from the last few sceptics. When you were deep in conversation with another detective, discussing the possible whereabouts of a highly wanted demon, Chanhee suddenly interrupted you.

“I know an underground club where they like to go after…committing crimes,” he said. “Every demon in this city knows about it.”

At that moment you realized his full potential and what good he could really do. That was, if he was ready to sacrifice his people. But he just had – without even blinking. He could be an immense help to you.

“Young man I can see you have a bright future, should you ever decide to join the police force,” said your boss from across the room. Seemed like she had the same idea as you. Chanhee only smiled shyly but couldn’t hide the glint of pride in his eyes.

The following days you instantly made arrangements to get Chanhee an interview with the head of the station. He had been scared, at first.

“What if the other people there hate me?” he suspected.

“They might make assumptions about you in their heads, you know, because you’re a demon. They only know demons to be evil. But the moment they realize how good of a person you are, I promise they’ll change their mind,” you said. “You’ll be precious to us, and if you want to do good, the police is where you can be the most helpful. You’ll change lives, maybe even save people.”

“Yes, I want to help,” he said. “I’m done with my kind.”

“I’ll talk to my boss tomorrow,” you assured him. “If you’re too anxious to come in to the station, maybe she’ll allow you to work from home, from my office here. This is just a try, okay? If you really enjoy this work, you’ll have to learn and earn your badge.”

The way he looked at you filled you with so much pride. He seemed to have found some hope. Like he could finally spend his time in a productive and truly good manner. You couldn’t wait to see how he would do.

A tiring day and many discussions with higher-ups at workplace later, you returned at your home, late at always. Your fingers tingled with excitement and you wanted to yell for Chanhee the moment you walked through your door. You had managed to score an internship for him at your station. He was allowed to start as early as the following week. As you walked up the stairs, following the shuffling noise you heard, you imagined his face when you told him the news. You knew he’d be ecstatic. His smile would make you so happy, and you almost grinned at the mere thought of it. The noises were coming out of your office.

“Hi, Chanhee. Guess what my boss-,” you started. Then you fell speechless. Paper was scattered all over the floor. Drawers stood wide open. The orderly sorted piles of case files you had been working on were dispersed into every corner of the small room. Photos and pieces of paper were falling out of the folders. And in midst of it all stood Chanhee.

“Y/N- I’m so-,” he said, helpless.

“Don’t,” you said. Every ounce of excitement was gone from your voice, replaced by an ice cold tone you didn’t know you had in you. He flinched, but you couldn’t keep in what you had to say. “You’re impossible. I can’t fucking believe this! These are real cases, Chanhee! I’m trying to save real people here! This isn’t some broken mirror or a spilled cup of water. I can look past a shattered glass, but this is too much…I honestly thought you were getting better…”

Somewhere you knew you were being too harsh. But your job was your entire reason for existing. This was your life mission, laid out in front of you as if a hurricane had rampaged through the room. It would take days for you to rearrange the files. You weren’t even sure if you’d be able to find the correct places for each piece of paper.

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice cracking because he was about to cry.

“I don’t want to see you right now. Please get out. I need to clean this up and you can’t help me with this,” you said, trying hard not to scream out of frustration. Your eyes were already scanning the floor. You had no idea where to even start. With low-hanging shoulders and teary eyes that were threatening to spill over, Chanhee slipped past you. He granted you one more look before he scurried out of the office like a frightened animal.

Even though your stomach was grumbling from starvation and you could barely stay awake – as always – you needed to get some of the cleaning done. Now. Or you would go insane. Plus, you needed time away from Chanhee. While you collected the paper from every inch of the wooden floor, guilt slowly started to nag at you. You had never raised your voice at him to this extent. And he was sensitive. It wasn’t his fault, that’s what you always told him when he blamed himself for messing things up. He knew that. You cursed at yourself. How could you be so impulsive? All too well you knew how he felt about his demon half. You were supposed to be there for him, to tell him he was doing a good job and to make sure he didn’t beat himself up. Now you had achieved the complete opposite. A dull ache in your chest accompanied your hungry stomach.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang. In a haze, you stepped down the stairs and to the door. You needed to apologize to Chanhee. When you opened the door, a delivery girl from your favorite restaurant stood there, handing you an order. You were puzzled.

“Already payed for,” she checked with a beaming smile, “Enjoy your meal!”

“Thank you,” you said, voice numb. Before you knew it, she had turned on her heel and was on the way back to the car.

“Chanhee! Your food is here,” you shouted, assuming he was the one who had made the order. You got no answer. When you set the bag down on the kitchen table, you saw a note, addressed to you.

Y/N,

Words can’t express how sorry I am about what I’ve done. All my life I only wanted someone to love me. In you, I thought I might have found what I had been searching for all this time. But I messed up. I always do. I drove you away from what we had. I’ve wondered why I always end up disappointing people. Now I know it’s because it’s the only thing I’m truly good at. You deserve someone you can trust blindly, someone who will walk through fire for you, someone who will take a bullet for you. I can’t give you that. I can’t even trust myself. Thank you for giving me a home and for being the most generous person I have ever met. You will always be in my sweet evil heart. Don’t worry about me too much. I will find my way and you will find yours. Who knows, our paths may cross again. I ordered your favorite food. I know you’re always starving when you get home from work. Enjoy it and don’t let it go cold. Make sure you get enough sleep tonight, and don’t forget to take your water bottle with you tomorrow, you left it here this morning.

I’ll hold you in my happiest thoughts forever,

Chanhee

You only snapped out of your motionless state when one single tear dropped down your cheek and onto the note. A heavy blanket of sorrow and regret sunk into your whole body. The emotions seeped through your skin and before you knew it, you were a sobbing mess on the kitchen floor. You wanted to take him in your arms and tell him you forgave him. Hell, you had forgiven him minutes after you had yelled at him. You should have gone to him then. Had you only apologized quickly enough, perhaps he’d still be here. Then he’d be eating dinner with you, and although you’d be frustrated, you both wouldn’t be alone.

Your tears fell into your food while you ate it, unable to control your sadness and frustration you had against yourself. They mixed with the shower water as you stood in silence under the hot stream, overthinking everything. Your pillow was wet from the crying as you struggled to fall asleep. Like a broken-hearted zombie you trudged across the hall and into his room. Chanhee’s covers still smelled like him and you hugged them tightly, as if you could hold a piece of him and bring him back that way. But there was nothing you could have done. He had left, and it was alone your fault.

The next day passed like a vivid fever dream. While you were sat in your meeting, you couldn’t possibly focus on the case your team was discussing. Instead, you pondered whether your makeup was able to conceal your puffy face and the dark circles under your eyes. If it was obvious, at least people didn’t seem to point it out. Maybe they were so used to seeing you tired that it would take a lot more than some tiredness and lack of concentration to arise concern. It was the first time in years you really wanted to go home after work. In fact, you couldn’t stand the laughter and good mood at the police station for one more second. All you wanted to do was scream and cry, and seeing people joke around without any idea about your feelings only intensified your desire. Of course, you could have confided in somebody. But you were afraid they would tell you Serves you right or I told you. You don’t think you’d be able to handle those blatant assumptions and the mocking.

Your plan for the night was set: You’d sit in the bathtub for half an hour, then you’d wrap yourself into a human burrito in a blanket and fill your brain with some brutal movie that would make your life seem like it was mere child’s play. But as most things in your life lately, nothing went as planned. Because after only five minutes in the hot tub, your phone rang on the other side of the room. The first time you ignored it. You really tried. But then it rang again, and you looked up to see the caller ID. It was your boss.

You groaned and quickly stood up, not giving up on the prospects of a peaceful night just yet. But then you heard her message – a break-in at a bank, one dead bank employee, five hostages, a possible shoot out. They were calling for back up. And when there was a chance to throw bad guys behind bars, the most inviting bath or an exciting movie suddenly turned dull.

Not fifteen minutes later you had jumped out the bath, gotten dressed in your uniform, taken your gun and ammunition, and were pulling up at the scene your boss had ordered you to. The bank was in the city center, close to the main square. The police team was stationed in a side street. Some of the team had already been sent to the front of the bank, where the police was attempting to make contact with the robbers.

“They’re holding four hostages in the back of the bank. One of them is at the front, right by the glass doors for us to see. The robbers have guns to their heads. If we come closer, they’ll shoot them,” your colleague informed you.

“Demons?” you asked. Against your will, Chanhee appeared in your mind. You wondered how he was doing. Was he hiding out in somebody else’s garden right now? Had he found a bed to sleep in? Then you quickly shook your head. This was not the time for heavy emotions of any kind.

“Yes. Five of them,” your colleague added. You huffed.

“What do they want us to do? Are they demanding anything?” you asked.

“They want us to let them leave with the money,” she said. You grinned bitterly and nodded.

“What about the back entrance?” you asked. You knew the layout of this bank and had been there multiple times in the past.

“That’s our route. Besides the one at the front, the other demons are inside the bank. The entrance isn’t guarded. A team of four will go to the back and try to sneak up on them. When we have a clear line of fire on all the robbers, we’ll take them out at the same time,” she explained.

“Alright,” you nodded, fixing your bulletproof vest around your upper body. You were ready for this. To others, missions like these would have been nerve-wrecking, and you would have been lying if you said you were completely calm. But the adrenaline was already rushing through your body, and fear was something you hadn’t felt since your very first operation.

“All ready?” your colleague asked the other two members of the team who would go into the bank. You received nods and professional expressions. You had all trained together and were used to functioning like one unit. Sticking close together, you rounded the bank, using a side street so the demons wouldn’t see you approaching. In your ear, the voice of your boss was giving orders and checking in on you. The street was dark and devoid of any life except for your team. Multiple of the surrounding streets had been evacuated and shut off to the public. The scene had something straight out of a heist movie. Except this time, the robbers weren’t going to pull of the perfect theft and get away. You would make sure of it.

“We’re almost there,” you said. “Twenty meters to the entrance. Awaiting permission to go inside.”

“You have permission,” your boss spoke over your earpiece. One last look at your teammates, and you were on the move. Sneaking inside soundlessly was easy. The backrooms were all empty. As you passed abandoned offices, you saw knocked over office equipment and paper scattered on the floors. Lamps had been left on and you heard the faint buzzing of a running computer that was most certainly unoccupied. Moving swiftly, you walked along the corridors, guns pointed ahead at all times. Your teamwork was untouchable. One of you made sure the path was clear, then the rest followed.

“You are one room away from the entry hall,” your boss said.

“Understood,” you answered and slowed down your steps. A cat wouldn’t have been able to walk more silently than you did. Now your ears picked up voices. Somebody was crying. There was shuffling of feet on marble.

“Shut up!” a male voice yelled. The crying faded out into muteness. In the dark, you could make out figures. A few countertops and a good distance separated you and your team from the demons and the hostages. You nodded to your colleagues and they understood. The four of you parted ways, moving into the room and taking shelter behind the bank counters. Once again, you checked the situation. Close to you, four hostages sat on the floor. A woman was still crying, and you could tell she was struggling to keep herself quiet. Around them, four demons stood, dressed in black. Their ski masks kept their faces hidden, but their body languages told you enough. They were not to be messed with. By the far entrance, the fifth demon was positioned with the remaining hostage, and you could spot the police cars outside in the town square. From behind your hiding spots, each of your teammates had a clear line of fire on the demons. The fifth one would be taken out from police outside the bank. You were just about to send a signal to your boss to let her know you were in position. Suddenly, the scraping of feet on the floor alarmed you.

“What was that?” one of the demons barked. The noise had come from your colleague beside you, who was now flinching. You had no time to think. No time to complain about her mistake. If you didn’t act now, they were going to close in on you.

You jumped up, pointing your gun at the closest demon. Right away, the remaining demons had their guns aimed at the hostages’ heads. Your colleagues had done as you, guns held towards the demons. Now you got a proper look at them. They were towering over the hostages, who were crouched on the floor in intimidation. The one in front of you only chuckled. Humans didn’t laugh like this. It was pure malice and recklessness displayed in front of you.

“I thought we told you to stay away,” he began. The only thing you could truly note about him was his mouth. The rest was covered by his mask and where the white of eyes should have been, two orbs of darkness sat, eying you like prey.

“Let the hostages go and we won’t shoot you,” you ordered, with a surprisingly calm voice.

“And why would we do that when we can just kill them?” he asked. His gaze momentarily focused on his fellow demons, as if he was a stand-up comedian and he had just delivered the funniest punch line.

“You will die if you harm even one of the hostages,” you stated.

“Oh, is that so? Humans never learn, do they?” he said. This monster was completely insane. And suicidal too, it seemed. “Go on, shoot.”

First, you thought he was urging your team to shoot. Then you realized, he was looking at the demon closest to you. The very demon you had your gun pointed at. He was asking the other demon to shoot at the hostages. You were preparing to pull the trigger.

But then your mind started racing. You stared at him intensely as your heartbeat quickened uncontrollably in your chest. The dark eyes. The soft lips. His skinny frame and gentle hands. You knew exactly who this demon was. You’d be able to pick him out of any crowd. What the hell was he doing here?

“Shoot!” the bigger demon shouted again, but Chanhee didn’t budge.

“I told you he was goddamn useless,” one of the others said. “Get rid of him.”

“You don’t deserve any of this money,” the bigger demon snarled, and his hand went to his belt. You knew there were human lives on the line. What you were about to do could be considered not only stupid, but wildly imprudent. Emotions were supposed to be left out of police operations. But how could you not have been blind with shock? You were going to let your heart control your body over your mind, and if it was deadly so be it. The bigger demon was now raising his arm at Chanhee.

Before you knew it, you had jumped out from behind the counter. You mirrored the demon’s actions and you pointed at him, pulling the trigger. At the same time, his gun went off. Just in time, you had pushed your body between the two demons.

“Y/N!” Chanhee shouted.

The bullet hit your shoulder and you fell backwards. Burning heat spread through your insides as you stumbled and reached for anything, anyone to hold on to. You could only think of Chanhee, and how your bullet had pierced through the big demon’s skull perfectly. Then, your colleagues opened the gunfire. The shots sounded almost muffled through the intense amount of adrenaline in your blood and the initial effect of being hit. Your body fell to the ground with a heavy thud, and a wave of agony spread through you. You grimaced at the excruciating pain, hands grasping at your shoulder. All you could see was white, before you sank onto your back and the world went dark.

~approximately 18 months later~

“Y/N,” Chanhee said, for the sixth time within the last ten minutes. You pressed your phone harder against your ear, holding it up with your shoulder. Your hands were too busy writing a police report on your laptop.

“Chanhee, I promise I’m writing the last few sentences already,” you assured him. He liked it when you came home early, leaving enough time to relax on the couch with him, instead of falling into bed like a corpse. Today, he was especially insistent, urging you to stay on the phone with him until you had finally packed up your things and left the police department. You guessed he was just trying to make sure you couldn’t stop somewhere along the way and start working on something new. And maybe that fear wasn’t so far off the truth.

“I’m done,” you said. “Status report: I’m switching off the laptop. Now I’m taking my bag. I’m getting up. I’m locking my office behind me. I’ll be home in twenty minutes or less.”

His laughter on the other side of the line made you smile. You couldn’t wait to see his face and get to hug him.

“Alright. I can’t wait,” he said. “I’ll see you.”

The walk home was calm. A soft breeze went through your hair and in the distance, you heard sirens of an ambulance. Promptly you were catapulted back to your memories and into the vehicle after you had been shot. Going in and out of consciousness, you kept repeating one name: Chanhee. When you woke up in the hospital bed, you half-expected him to be sitting there, waiting for you to wake up. But of course that was not the case. He had committed a crime – or at least tried to commit one. The prosecution was in his favor. They acknowledged his compliance with the police and his hesitation to hurt the hostage. Plus, he sold out the other demons and showed no resistance at any point. His regret and sorrow was apparent, nonetheless his mistake caused him 11 months in prison – by far less than the other robbers got.

People had called you insane for standing by him. Others thought you brave and newspapers named him the first good demon in the world. Every week you visited him in prison, often more than once. You made the most of your short time to talk, and with your kindest words you let him know that you were still here for him. Every visit you learned a bit more about how he had ended up in that bank.

After he had walked out on you, he had nowhere to go. So, after strolling the street mazes for days he found himself in the very demon night club he had once warned you about. Most unsavory figures twisted his mind into thinking doing good was no use. They made him believe he would never be able to escape the demon in him, and he might as well embrace the malice. They more or less pulled him along to the robbery, while he overthought the whole thing. It hurt you, seeing him cry as he recounted how scared he was when he saw the hostages. Some of them ended up injured, but all survived. You knew he would have never forgiven himself, had one of them died.

The day you picked him up from prison was a day you’d never forget. Holding each other in your arms felt so right, and you had missed it tremendously. His months at the prison hadn’t been easy, but you made sure he felt loved and cared for when he finally returned. He almost refused to believe that you would open your doors to him again. It was no question to you. You’d always be here for him. Even when he insisted you keep your office at home locked at all times. You trusted him almost a hundred percent by now. His demon only came out rarely, especially in times of stress or intense negative emotions. But you only treated him with kindness, and he gave back just as much of it.

“Chanhee I’m home!” you shouted as you entered your home.

“I’m up here,” he spoke. You ran up the stairs, excited to see him. Your eyes fell onto the open door of your office. For a moment, your heartbeat quickened as you approached it. You must have forgotten to lock the door that morning. Slowly, you pushed it open.

“Hello,” he grinned. You only chuckled as you watched him, sitting by your desk, a book in his hands. “I hope you don’t mind me being in here. This chair is so comfortable.��

“It’s all good,” you said. “Do you know what day it is today?”

“Umm…Friday?” he asked.

“It’s been exactly two years since you first started living here,” you said. “I think we should get some take out and celebrate, what do you say?”

“I can’t believe it’s been two years,” he said. “I’d love that. And you know what? I think I’m ready to start the internship at the police station.”

You smiled proudly. He had put his book down and was getting up.

“You’re going to do good things,” you said, wrapping your arms around him. He finally had found his place. His home. And you were never going to give up on him.

#chanhee scenarios #new scenarios #tbz new scenarios #tattoos #the boyz icons #the boyz scenarios #tbz scenarios #tbz imagines #tbz angst #tbz fluff #chanhee fluff #chanhee angst #chanhee x reader #kpop fluff #kpop angst #demon au #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines

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chaoswrites · 4 years ago

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hiya darling! can i request hcs for akaashi, osamu, and kuroo (separately) with an s/o that has like an opposite personality from them? like, kuroo with a shy s/o that he enjoys making flustered, and akaashi and osamu with a more extroverted s/o that's always bright and bubbly. thank you so much!

Akaashi, Osamu, and Kuroo Having an S/o with the Opposite Personality

word count: 1687

gn!reader

a/n: hopefully this is meets your expectations. kuroo’s isn't as long as i wanted it to be but i wanted to get it posted. i actually had a lot of fun writing this so thank you for requesting :) feel free to send in requests, i love writing them and using them as an excuse to not do homework. enjoy and thank you for reading~

Akaashi

when akaashi first met you, he was having a bad day

the usual calm and collected setter was on the verge of cracking under the stress from a little thing called life

he was barely on time for class meaning he wasn't able to grab anything to eat before the bell; he had to deal with a mopey bokuto, and not knowing the cause, he was unable to fix his mood which resulted in bokuto following him around everywhere, whining and refusing to go to his own class most of the time; and he had to forfeit half of his lunch when someone (read: bokuto) somehow set it on fire (don't ask how, nobody knows, it wasn't even heated up or anything)

needless to say, he was hungry and exhausted from dealing with an even wore bokuto who wouldn't stop apologizing for “almost killing him”

when you walked in to practice following his two managers, it could have gone one of two ways:

one, your upbeat personality would be able to lift his spirits and be the bright beacon on his gloomy day, or

two, it could've caused him a greater headache knowing he would have to converse with someone so extroverted and expressive on the one day he wanted to hide away from the world when you made everything seemed so positive and all he wanted to do was tear his hair out from frustration on the unlucky hand he was dealt for the day

luckily for you and everyone in the vicinity, it was the former

your smiles and encouraging comments turned bokuto’s mood around, wanting to show off his skills rather than looking lame in front of this new person who has yet to see what he could do

solving one of his problems so easily drew him towards you, he wanted to know your secrets and also wanted you around all the time

after your introduction to each other that day, you both began to talk more and more

he found out you're a newfound friend of yukie and kaori even though you're a second year and that you're a food enthusiast like yukie and that you tend to talk a lot, not that its something he isn't accustomed to dealing with due to bokuto, it actually makes it easier to hang out when you tend to take charge of the conversations

the closer you guys got, the more it confused everyone else

no one expected the introverted and reserved akaashi to willingly subject himself to someone so talkative, especially since he deals with bokuto on the daily

but as more time went passed everyone accepted it as the new normal so when you two finally started dating, it surprised no one

you two were eventually known as the iconic pair of opposite personalities that seemed to just fit together, along with your third wheel that you couldn't seem to ever shake, not that akaashi expected bokuto to leave him alone once he started dating, he resigned himself to forever being his babysitter

you both complimented each other nicely, you being the open, bubbly conversationalist and akaashi there to reign you back whenever needed

nobody could see you two with anyone else

Osamu

when the volleyball team, including his twin, finally found out about you two, you were already dating for two months

the ever reserved man he is, he refused to let you meet anyone on the team in hopes to lessen the teasing (how wrong he was)

you didn't particularly mind, just happy to be dating him

although you did wish to be able to be more open about your relationship at school, you respected his wishes and left the more coupley aspects to when you're not around those who know you two

spending time and studying at your house and going out on days without practice became rituals between you two

the day you met the rest of the team was memorable, to say the least

you were over at osamu’s house, a rare occurrence that only happened when he knew atsumu was going to be gone the whole night

this particular day he was supposed to be working on a project with Ginjima and was planning to spend the night

so there you were, osamu making you another one of his delicious creations in the kitchen while you were watching and telling him stories about your day at school

neither of you noticed when the front door of the miya household opened, in walk two boys that had realized they forgot vital materials at atsumu’s and walked over to get the work

as soon as the boys cross the threshold they freeze, surprised to hear an unfamiliar voice filling the usually quiet walls that occupy the house when the more expressive twin is absent

let’s just say, when they walked into the kitchen and saw you, talking cheerfully and excitedly, and osamu, smiling and acknowledging the stranger at the various pauses you have during your storytelling, they were a little confused

who was this person and why didn't they no about them?

atsumu, ever the antagonist, sat down next to you at the table and decided to throw his arm over your shoulders and leaning in, startling you and effectively ending your speech

at the sudden silence, osamu turns around confused to ask you what's wrong only to see his brother hanging off of you with the biggest smirk he could muster

before he could say a word, atsumu pulls out his phone and sends the message to end this man’s whole career into the volleyball group chat

in an instant, the whole volleyball team arrived at the miya house, filling the empty space of the kitchen, trying to get a look at “the friend” atsumu announced that a certain closed-off wing spiker had as company

having already pulled you away from his annoying brother, the numerous eyes in the room focused on you two standing awfully close to be just “friends”

the conversation wasn't as exciting as one might think

it pretty much went

osamu: “yes we’re dating. leave us alone”

then he grabbed your hand and dragged you over to your house instead

the rest of the team were left in various states of shock, not expecting him to be so blunt or to even admit it

the next day, you followed your boyfriend to his morning practice, ready to officially introduce yourself to everyone

when they saw you both come in, hands intertwined, the snarky remarks died on their tongues with your bubbly introduction

the contrast between their laidback hitter and the talkative newcomer that rivaled even atsumu’s vibrant personality surprised even the most conservative of the bunch

the rest of the practice consisted of many of the team members (mostly atsumu) asking you questions while attempting to avoid punishments from kita for not paying attention to practice and glares from osamu for invading his privacy

the initial shock of such an unlikely pair quickly dwindled after realizing how much osamu adores you, through all the quick glances and fond smiles when you continued to rant about your first date or some of your favorite things

not to say there wasn't any teasing, atsumu and the rest of the team gave him hell for the rest of his life for attempting to hide your relationship

Kuroo

dating this man is something else

luckily for you, even though he is more extroverted now, he was very introverted as a child, and is very used to dealing with introverts since he's best friends with kenma

so he'd be very understanding if you were shy and not very big on interacting with people

that doesn't mean he wouldn't push you out of your comfort zone every once in a while or tease the hell out of you

he knows your limits and when to pull back if it’s too much

when you first start dating, he’ll make sure that he's always checking up on you to make sure comfortable

he’ll drop everything to make sure you're ok and not being pressured into anything

but once you get comfortable around him and he knows you trust him he’ll make it his personal mission to fluster you

while he is nowhere near the confident fuck boy that most of the fandom makes him out to be, he won't back down on the chance to tease you

most of this came from flirting

bringing you with to volleyball practice (after he is 100 percent sure you are comfortable with the team, he doesn't want to put you in a gym full a people you can't relax around), he will use every opportunity to embarrass you

he’ll show off constantly to turn you into a stuttering mess

leaning over you on the bench to reach his water bottle that just so happened to have been forgotten beside you

wiping his face off with his shirt when he knows you're watching him play just to see you avoid his eyes when he catches you staring

most of the time, kenma takes pity on you

he’ll sneak you out of the gym when kuroo is distracted and let you watch him play video games while avoiding practice

both of you being introverts started a strong friendship between you two

the number of times kuroo went on the hunt for you only to find you guys shoulder to shoulder, kenma showing you something new on his psp, quiet mumbles being passed from one to the other

kuroo was very happy that you two found comfort in each other, glad that kenma put an effort into making sure you were comfortable just as much as him

no one was really surprised on the relationship that bloomed between you and kuroo

at this point, most of team believed he was just taking in introverts under his wing

some were kinda concerned before they realized that wasn't the case

overall, the best person for someone more on the shy side is kuroo because he would be the perfect combination of pushing your limits and understanding your reluctance to be so open

everything (minus smaus) taglist: open

@woodygirl127 @remuswriting @cleopatera

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i-need-entertainment · 4 years ago

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Haikyuu!! Boys and what kind of clumsy they are

Characters: Akaashi, Washio, Konoha, Kita, Suna, Ushijima, Yahaba, Iwaizumi, Futakuchi and Daishou

Akaashi Keiji: He trips over his own two feet

I’ve seen it headcanond before that Akaashi is actually clumsy, and I love it.

I see him as someone who could be perfectly stable one moment, but either step on his laces on sOmEthiNg and now he’s going down.

And as someone who has sprained an ankle by stepping on my own foot, I can attest that it DOES HAPPEN.

It doesn’t happen very much during games when his focus is at 100%.

But I do think on some practices he’s stepped back to set, and accidentally stepped on himself and *boom* Akaashi’s down again.

I can see the tips of his ears turning red when the coach or Konoha asks ‘You good?’ and he just kinda mumbles ‘yeah’ and tries to move on like nothing happened.

Washio Tatsuki: He is constantly stubbing his toes

I don’t think he’s super clumsy, but the guy is 6′2, and due to him being quite far from the ground I think his toes (specifically the pinkie toes) like to catch the edges of tables, couches, you name it.

I don’t see him necessarily cursing when it happens, since he’s pretty quiet.

But I do see him sucking in a quick breath, and just....pausing.

His mom probably asks if he’s okay and he just nods and lets our a pained ‘yeah’ and tries to go on with his day.

Konoha Akinori: Constantly tripping down the stairs

Like in the pet peeves one, he’s definitely the type to laugh at someone when they trip or hit their head or something.

Buuuut it’s only because he himself is clumsy and he knows it.

I think he most often trips down, and up, the stairs.

I don’t think it’s a daily occurrence, but I do think he has a nice fall at least once every two weeks.

Like, he’ll be at home and his family will all be in the living room and all of a sudden all they hear is a series of thuds and they know.

They just know ‘Yup, Akinori just fell’ and after making sure he’s fine they go on with their day with a shake of the head and a sigh.

Kita Shinsuke: Doesn’t quite fall, but he is known to stumble

He’s another one that is aware of his surroundings and is usually quite put together.

So imagine the team’s reaction when their careful captain stumbled into the gym.

At first they just brushed it off.

Figuring there was something in the way or he had just had an off day.

But they soon noticed he stumbled a lot.

He never falls, just loses his balance and then 5 seconds later it was like it never happened.

Suna Rintaro: Runs into a lot of doors

I’m not talking about the door frame, I’m talking about getting hit by doors.

Like, he’ll be headed to class (not paying attention to anything around him) and *BAM* he’s now waving off the apologies of a poor underclassmen or staff member and heading to class with a red forehead.

It’s partly his fault since he’s never really aware of what’s going on around him.

But he’s also just really unlucky/attracts doors swinging into him like a magnet.

Depending on how hard he was hit, I see him being the type of person to shout when they get hurt.

So when he is hit in the face with a door at school all that level hears is a single curse yelled by Suna.

The teacher that hit him with the door can’t find it in themselves to give him detention though.

Ushijima Wakatoshi: Hits his head on a lot of door frames

Seeing as he is over 6′2 and the average height for men in Japan is about 5′7, it’s not hard to believe that his face has met quite a few door frames in his time.

Unlike Suna, he doesn’t really get hit by doors (doors get hit by him), he runs into the door frame.

I do feel bad for him, but being someone with a father who is 6′5, as a child it was incredibly entertaining to witness.

He probably lets out a string of low curses, as he grabs his head and just waves off anyone asking if he’s okay.

He probably just says ‘I’m fine’ before he continues doing what he was doing.

When this happens at school of course, no one but Tendo really laugh laughs at him.

But Reon and Semi have been known to let out a few light hearted snickers here and there.

Yahaba Shigeru: Closes his fingers in car doors and cabinets

He doesn’t know why this happens so much.

Maybe his reaction time is too slow? Or maybe it’s cause his hand-eye coordination isn’t the best.

Either way, he tends to nip his fingers on/in stuff a lot.

Like getting a cup out of a cabinet but shutting his finger in the door, or closing the car door on his hand.

He also tends to burn his fingers a lot.

Like picking up a mug that’s too hot, or grabbing a pan that just got out of the oven.

Probably curses when it happens, he doesn’t shout like Suna (cause he has a younger brother not a death wish) but something probably slips when it happens.

Iwaizumi Hajime: Drops his phone on a regular basis

Overall I don’t think he’s very clumsy.

But when it comes to his phone? All bets are off.

He doesn’t know wHy but to his hands his phone is like butter.

Doesn’t matter where he is.

It could be in the comfort of his home or McDonalds, that phone in his hand is not long for this world...

Curses like a sailor when it happens, then just huffs and picks it up.

He seems mad, but he’s really just mad at himself.

Mostly cause he could have scuffed the Godzilla phone case he has on it smh.

Futakuchi Kenji: Loses things like nobody’s business

The type of person to ask ‘where’s my phone?’ only for it to have been in his hand the whole time.

It’s never anything important like homework, more like little things you don’t think you need, but then later you end up REALLY needing.

Think items like spare glasses, or chemistry notes, things like that.

It’s not even that he’s messy he just misplaces a lot of things.

It’s come to the point where if he walks in the room to ask his mom where something is she just points, especially since he lost the same thing 2 days ago-

Daishou Suguru: Gets bumped into like a piñata on the sidewalk/school hallways

He isn’t a small guy, he’s 5′10.

So it is completely BEYOND him why everywhere he goes he gets rammed into and shoved.

It’s kinda like he’s invisible sometimes.

He even tried paying more attention, but alas he till got pushed and shoved.

Doesn’t fall down often, because of his size, but if he ever had a particularly bad collision he’d probably let out a few curses and get up. (Depending on who it was and if Mika was with him, he might apologize, but that’s completely circumstantial)

#akaashi x reader #washio x reader #konoha x reader #kita x reader #suna x reader #ushijima x reader #yahaba x reader #iwaizumi x reader #futakuchi x reader #daishou x reader #y/n #hq headcanons #hq imagines #Haikyuu!!#haikyu x reader

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peakyxtommy · 4 years ago

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Wonder - T.S.

Thomas Shelby x Fem!Reader

Summary: Based around song Wonder by Shawn Mendes. Tommy wonders about his love for the reader and has to make a decision to confess or deny it.

Word Count: 2.7K

Warning: Angst, Sadness, Fluff

A/N: Enjoyed writing this. Ya Girl Snapped LOL Listen to Wonder b/c that song snaps.

Gif Credit: @myimaginesworld

I wonder if I'm being real

Do I speak my truth or do I filter how I feel?

I wonder, wouldn't it be nice

To live inside a world that isn't black and white?

His heart ached again in this lifetime. His heart has not ached this way in the longest of time, since he lost his first true love. It was a losing battle because the only thing that painted his mind was the scene of you crying last night in his office. He did what he did best which was push people away. It was a trait he had gotten good at from a young age. Thinking he was protecting himself but was really doing the opposite. Avoiding being vulnerable, the risk that comes with letting another person in. Letting them see the deepest roots of your soul. The actions of the past that caused trauma on the present. Wishing it all could be wiped away in the future.

He remembers the crack in your voice as the scene replays in his head. You came to his office, to be taken out to dinner as he had forgotten earlier in the week. When you show up to his office ready to be dined, you're met with the same old excuse again. That’s when your voices started out in a yelling match to now be in hushed whispers of the rarest parts of your mind, on display for the other.

“Do you even love me?” Your finger points accusingly at him as he stands tall with a small space between your two bodies, but the tension felt made that space feel like you were across the room. It was a question that broke his heart even more than the first time the words left your soft lips. The way your brow furrowed and the curvature of your lips frowned with deep sadness, he knew this wasn’t a game anymore.

“Why would you even ask that?” He questions in defense, not daring to meet your eyes, finding his reflection in his black shoes more interesting.

“Lately, I can feel the distance growing between us, like a ship lost at sea, that’s getting harder to reach. I know I told you how I felt, a few weeks back. I didn't need to hear you say it back but, since then, it’s like you’ve been avoiding me like the plague. It hurts.”

You whisper the last part so soft, he almost misses it. He hears it but the thought scares him. Makes him want to run even further away than when you first said it to him. He stares as you hold back the tears in your eyes, silently pleading for him to say something, to be brave enough to let you in. He remains silent.

“I love you Tommy, but I can’t keep doing this. It’s like lighting fires with matches, but it’s not catching with you. I keep leading myself into the flames, to keep on burning. It’s not enough to lose myself when you get to walk away fine, not broken hearted.”

“Then maybe you should go. Find someone that is good enough for you!” He screams, throwing the glass in his hand against the wall, watching as it shatters into small pieces. This was the last straw for you. You just shake your head in disappointment, as he tries to get the last word in.

As he watched you leave his office with the door slamming loudly, shaking the walls. He knew it was a mistake that he didn’t go after you or say the truth he felt in the deepest part of his being. So instead he sat in his office staring out the window nursing a bottle of whiskey and a pack of smokes, hoping it would take some of the pain away. It doesn’t but it at least numbs the thought of you in his heart and mind, at least for a little while.

Right before I close my eyes

The only thing that's on my mind

Been dreamin' that you feel it too

I wonder what it's like to be loved by you

He felt it felt deep inside his bones from the moment he met you. He couldn’t explain why when you talked to him it made everything feel different, feel new. He wondered about you. His mind couldn't stop traveling to the future. He let himself dream freely of loving you. He wanted to tell you the truth but he was afraid. You made him happy. You covered the deepest scars and wounds with your words. Words that spoke truth, spoke volume. You were sweet and kind, the almost exact opposite of him. You spoke with a smile on your face every time you graced him with your presence.

It had been three days since he last saw and heard from you. He didn’t blame you at all, he blamed himself. He knew the look on Polly’s face the second day meant she knew something was up and today she ripped him a new one as usual, but he couldn’t be bothered to listen to her reasoning, already knowing the truth. He wished the truth didn’t hurt, that denial could be easier but it wasn’t.

He spent his days forcing himself into work to not let his mind get too caught in silence because he couldn’t stop thinking about you and what you were doing in the small moments of your days away from him. It was only at night right before he closed his eyes he thought of you and him, the moments you shared together.

“Tommy what are you doing, put me down!” You laugh as he spins you around in his arms.

“I have good news, you’re the first I'm sharing with!” He says with a wide grin, as he places you back on the ground.

“What’s the good news Tommy?” You cheer, just as excited as him.

“I got the betting license needed and I'll be able to expand to own a club in London. My plan is working out great so far.”

“That’s excellent news Tom. I’m proud of you and know your family will be glad as well.”

“To celebrate, I got you something.” He pulls out a small black rectangle box placing it into your open palms. You open the box, to reveal a three stone diamond pendant necklace. It was the first of many moments where he would leave you speechless in a good way and gift you in a sweet way.

“Thank you so much Tommy. You didn’t have to do this. I should be the one surprising you with a gift. I love it so much, I'm never going to take this off. “ You kiss him sweetly and allow him to put it around your neck.

“You’re my girl, you’re a gift enough to me daily (Y/N).”

I wonder why I'm so afraid

Of saying something wrong, I never said I was a saint

“I love you Tommy.” You spoke the next morning naked limbs entangled in another as your forehead rested against his collar bones, fingers tracing circles into his milky skin. Those words had been on your mind a lot the past few weeks. You were afraid to say them, to leave yourself open to being hurt.

The closer you grew to him as staying the night more at his house and even slowly leaving a few of your things there. You knew it was him that made your heartbeat skip just a little faster and even when he made it angry or spark with fear due to his dangerous risk taking, he also calmed it like no other. Even though he wasn’t the best with words, when he spoke to you he tried his best and would say the words that seemed to soothe you back to peace. His actions of holding you closer at night or early in the morning or surprise gifts, made you believe it was all worth the risk of saying those three words. Three words that spoke volume, that could grow or crush you in the small fraction of a second. He was worth the risk.

When he heard you say those words, it’s like a knife pierced his heart. A heart that already knew death and heartache. A heart that was on the mend, but still wounded. The words you spoke stroked fear inside of him. A man able to strategize, control men, and kill his enemies was afraid to love. He didn’t want to mess this up or say something wrong, even in this moment.

Those words were real, the emotions were real, and that what was happening between the two of you was real. It wasn’t a game or dream, but a connection. A connection he didn’t want to end or break. He knew he wasn’t a saint and surely he was going to Hell, but with you in his arms, he felt whole, felt holy.

He did what he did best and shoved his emotions down. He didn’t say anything because he knew you weren’t expecting him too. The best he could do was offer a small smile and a peck on the lips as he held you closer to his chest, afraid that time and his feelings would catch up with him.

I wonder, when I cry into my hands

I'm conditioned to feel like it makes me less of a man

He wasn’t one for deep emotions, because it made him feel less than a man but with you he could be vulnerable. He could fully be himself and you drew that out of him slowly at first.

You tell he was angry by the slam of the front door, soon followed by the slam of his office door. Both shaking the house into silence and then the chatter continued like it was a normal occurrence. You knew not to bother him right now, deciding to let him cool down for a bit before going to see what was wrong.

You waited an hour before knocking, making your entrance known with a hot cup of tea and a plate of dinner on a tray. The scene in front of your eyes almost shocks you, but you handle it by addressing it head on.

“Tommy what’s wrong?” You speak in a soft whisper setting the tray on his desk, as he furiously wipes his wet eyes.

“Nothing’s wrong, I’m fine. It’s all fucking fine!” He huffs, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, trying to will the tears away. You take a sit across from him in the empty chair allowing him to have his space, never seeing him this upset before.

“Everything’s not fine. You’re angry and upset, upset enough that you’re crying. If you don’t want to talk about it, I won’t force you. I’ll be here to listen.” You speak biting your lip out of nervousness of wondering if you pushed him too far.

“Men aren’t supposed to cry, crying is weak! It serves no purpose.” He swallows the last bit of the glass of whiskey he’s been nursing next to the half filled bottle. His eyes still don’t meet yours.

You finally come around to his chair to sit in his lap, forcing his eyes to meet yours.

“That’s a lie because everyone cries. Crying isn’t weak, it’s a normal human emotion. It actually does you some good. I sometimes feel better after I cry and sometimes when I’m crying with the right person, it makes me feel even better than when I’m crying alone. I promise, I won’t think less of you if you cry. You don’t have to be strong all the time and hold all your emotions in. It’s okay to let it all out.”

You press a kiss to his forehead, knowing this man wouldn’t let you easily but you would open your arms wide enough to let him know you were a safe place, that you could be his safe place, his safe haven from all of the things going on in his world and mind. That much he appreciated and would hold on too, even if he couldn’t fully express himself emotionally yet.

And I wonder if someday you'll be by my side

And tell me that the world will end up alright

You were sitting in your living room reading when you heard a knock at the door. You move swiftly to see who it could be at this late hour, having a feeling but pushing it to the back of your mind. It was only a week since you last heard and saw of him. You brace yourself for when you open the door, to come in contact with his tall and pale figure, standing in your doorway. His blue eyes had bags underneath them and his face was stone cold.

“Can I please talk with you?” He asks.

“Now you have words to say, a week later. You seemed okay, not saying anything when we had words in your office!” You huff with anger, crossing your arms as you both stood in the doorway, cold air, nipping at you both, almost colder than the air between you two.

“It will only take two minutes. If you want me to go after that then I’ll leave. I promise.”

“Go on.”

“I’m sorry for being daft and hurting your feelings. It was wrong of me. I’ve only been avoiding you because I love you. I was afraid of letting you get close because I know I’m not good enough for you and that you can do better. I’m selfish because I want you to choose me even if I'm not the best option for you.

I’m plagued by darkness, but you’re the light that shines through. Even from the day we first met, I knew there was something special about you. I’m not ready to lose that, lose you, by letting fear control my heart. I will never be perfect, as good, and will always be in the head of danger, but I do promise to try my best to be the best I can be, if you will still have me? I really do love you (Y/N), even if it’s taken me this long to realize it.”

You can see the redness of his cheeks and the wetness pooling in his eyes as he makes his declaration to you. You can still feel that familiar sting of heartache from the week earlier, but you also feel the warmth of the love you have shared for him inside the depth of your inner being. There will never be love without heartache and making those hard decisions of staying or walking away.

“Tommy you’re enough for me. I see the darkness and the danger, but I see the good in you. You need to start seeing it as well. If I had to choose you over anyone else, I would choose you time and time again because I love you Thomas Shelby, and only you. You have my heart and you can’t get rid of me that easily. I’m still hurt by your words and actions, and if it happens I will leave. So don’t mess up. We’re a team and we both have things we can work on together because no one’s perfect.” You speak with seriousness in your tone but also warmth and love.

“Thank you.” Is all he speaks as his cold fingers find your cheeks and your ice lips touch soon becoming warm in his embrace. You let him into your home to warm up and have a cup of tea. Spending the remainder of the evening reading a poetry book you both enjoy, taking turns reading pages to each other, enjoying being in the embrace of another again.

I wonder what it's like to be loved by you

He no longer had to wonder about your love, finally allowing himself to fall into you. To trust you fully and to let the walls surrounding him and his heart come down, knowing you were going to be worth it.

Taglist:

@captivatedbycillianmurphy

#Peaky Blinders #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders preference #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x reader #wonder #lyric imagine #peakyxtommy

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elldell1204 · 5 years ago

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I Always Have Your Back - Jay Halstead x Reader

Anonymous: Drabble challenge Nr. 17 - “Good thing I didn’t ask for your opinion”? With Jay Halstead Thank you! 😊

Thank you so much for the request! 🥰 I do have to confess that this is one of the most recent requests, but I got so inspired by the prompt that I felt I just needed to write it. Don’t fret! I do have ideas for the others, it’s just finding inspiration, but they will be coming soon. I hope you enjoy this one, I’m super proud of it! ❤️

(slightly inspired by this Linstead fic on Ao3, feel free to check it out!)

Warning: Mention of drugs, implied attempted rape (not graphic), mention of sex trafficking. Don’t read if this will upset you! 💕

wc - 7,464

You’ve always hated when the criminals fall through your fingers. Just when you think you’ve got ‘em, all ready to be wrapped up with a bow and sent off to Statesville, something crops up and (wrongfully) gets them off the hook by the skin of their teeth and they walk, but not without a smug grin over the shoulder at you first.

That’s why for the past month, whilst you’ve been trying to find incriminating evidence on a suspect in a missing persons case, every little thing just pisses you off. It’s like the case is all you think about, night and day. You even dream about it in your sleep, though it’s more like a nightmare. Trying to solve this case has been like torture for every member of the Intelligence unit, making everyone more irritable than usual, resulting in arguments and eyes that shoot daggers being a daily occurrence. Something which didn’t exactly help your already rocky relationship with your partner, Jay Halstead.

It wasn’t like you didn’t get along. In fact, at work, it was the complete opposite. He was the best partner you’ve ever had, seeing as you both worked liked clockwork as a duo and even got praise from Voight after a case one day saying you were the best partnership he’s ever had in his unit. You hated to admit it (and even then you never did out loud, only in the quiet of your own heart), but you’d actually fallen for your partner, something you vowed never to let happen in your lifetime as a Chicago police officer. You wanted a successful career, not be the ‘slut’ who throws herself at every male cop she works with. You’d seen many a colleague go down the road of dating a partner, and nearly every time it ended badly, but even worse for the female half of the relationship.

But every day, the little things he did or said just made you want to throw caution to the wind, push him up against the wall and kiss him breathless. And sometimes you thought you saw the same glimmer of lust in his eye as you felt.

Only, he acted like he hated you. Well, not exactly. He was nice to you, cracking jokes with you and being friendly, but whenever the conversation steered anywhere close to flirtatious, he often caught himself and put up a wall. A cold, icy wall; the complete opposite of anything you would associate with Jay Halstead. You loved the cheeky, boyish side of him, but the iron clad exterior really broke your heart, mainly because to you it meant that your love was unrequited and the partner you cared for so much was having trouble opening up to you, shutting down before your very eyes like he would when a case hit a long-forgotten nerve. Though your spirits were dampened every time it happened, you understood, especially after Kim told you the story about Erin and Jay’s downwards spiral after she left. You wished you knew him before Erin, because according to Kim, he never used to be as angry at the world. Before, he knew he could do some good, put in his bet and that helping one person would mean something. You knew he still did, but that need for justice wasn’t quite satiated anymore. It was as if, over time, the job had dampened Jay, and he needed help seeing the sunshine again.

At least that’s what Voight had told you, not in as many words, when you’d been with the unit for a few months. According to him, you were the person that coaxed the raincloud away from over Jay’s head, bit by bit, so that he could start to enjoy the sun again. Jay didn’t notice at first, but when he did, that’s when he started reverting back to the colder version of himself when things got too close to the dangerous waters of flirtation.

Lately, neither of you had gotten within ten feet of what could be considered flirting, let alone friendly jokes and conversation, and it was all thanks to this case. The unit was tasked with finding out what happened to seven young women, all addicts, who let their addiction take over to the point where they couldn’t afford their next meal when they suddenly go missing. Like, off-the-face-of-the-earth, vanished-into-a-cloud-of-smoke, left-no-trace missing. You made huge progress within the first week, finding out that all the girls were supplied by one common dealer: Elena Perez. A forty-two-year old, divorced woman who owned her own restaurant in a pretty nice area in the south side. You found she was a ‘business in the front, party in the back’ kind of dealer, so to speak. Only, you had no way of getting to her without raising her suspicions. For weeks you did surveillance, watching two different girls approach her restaurant and walking away with a bag of white power in their hands, each on different nights to the other, until one time when they entered but didn’t leave.

Which meant you were back at square one.

Every other attempt to gain more info was met with a dead end, so walking into the precinct this morning, you didn’t feel too hopeful. You were one of the last to arrive (not that you were late, you were actually half an hour early), trudging up the stairs to the bullpen with two to-go cups of coffee in hand from your local coffeehouse around the block from your apartment. One was for you, seeing as your energy levels were pretty low, and one was for Jay, half because you wanted to cheer him up and half as a peace offering after the argument you both had last night when you were both frustrated, getting absolutely nowhere in the case after combing over all your notes from the past month or so. Let’s just say you were glad you were the only two left in the bullpen, and the door to the break room was closed to avoid any prying ears.

Yours and Jay’s desks faced each other and were the closest to Voight’s office, with Jay’s back being to it. You made it to yours without passing out from exhaustion and placed Jay’s cup in front of him with a small, sorry smile on your face. Jay eyed the coffee before looking up and mirroring your expression, and that was all that was needed to repair the very minor crack in your bond (one that seemed to be needing repair too often during this case) before getting on with your day.

It was only ten or so minutes later when Voight stormed out of his office and over to the board at the top of the stairs with a tempestuous expression, his bad mood only amplified in his body language. His exit prompted the rest of Intelligence to jump up. Well, jump was an understatement, given that you were all the definition of defeated. Jay came and propped himself on the edge of your desk, whilst you spun your chair to face your boss.

“Tell me you have a lead, any lead. I don’t care if it’s less than a shoeprint, we need something to go on.”

He glanced round at each and every one of you, showing a steely glare before moving onto the next person. No one had anything. You’d had an idea for a while now, but you knew it was immensely dangerous, and therefore you decided you would only bring it up as a last resort. Now seemed like the right time.

“I know this won’t be favourable,” You began, and you could feel all eye direct their attention to you without even breaking eye contact with Voight. “But I could go in undercover?”

“No.” Jay all but shouted. You immediately diverted your eyes to your partner, an anger bubbling deep in your chest. “Absolutely not. It’s a huge risk. We don’t even know what she does to the girls! In my opinion, that’s way too dangerous and downright stupid.”

He had his jaw set tight as he spoke, making you wonder how the words didn’t come out more strained than they already did. His arms were folded tightly over his chest, his fingers gripping his biceps so hard his knuckles had turned as white as paper. In hindsight, you realise that he had your safety at heart, and he meant well with his words, however, at the time, all you could see was red, mostly thanks to sleep deprivation.

“Well, it’s a good thing I didn’t ask for your opinion.” You seethed, and your partner looked at you like you’d just shot him in the heart. You turned to face your boss before continuing. “Sarge, you know about my work from Vice. I know what I’m doing, and I’m one of the damn best undercovers in the entire department. And what else do we have to go on? This is our only hope at finding those girls.”

Before Jay could refute, Voight agreed and told everyone to begin prepping, dishing out tasks to everyone in the unit. You were whisked away by Hailey and Vanessa to put together your cover story before you could even look at Jay, let alone discuss what the hell you had just gotten yourself into.

***

Twenty-four hours later and you’re now Riley Hensley. It was your cover from the last bust you did in Vice, which was luckily still intact, so you managed to slot right back into it, even getting your old job at the corner store back within minutes of talking to the owner. You were sat sipping one of the worst coffees ever to touch your tastebuds whilst reading over your pseudo-life. You’d arrived at your undercover apartment last night with just a scruffy duffel bag to your name, and it was then that you’d realised it was the smallest apartment you had ever set foot in, and you’d lived alone in New York straight out of college with a student’s salary. Once you got there, you set it up a little more to your taste, putting a few personal touches to make it seemed more lived in.

The rest of the team had left you to do your thing back in the district before you went under (which consisted of a lot of psyching yourself up and getting yourself in the mindset of your new character), getting busy with setting out surveillance plans and shift changes and places to put bugs. You managed to have very small and brief conversation with the team before you left last night at 7pm to spend your first night in the apartment. Most were quick goodbyes and ‘stay safe’s, but Jay’s was different. You felt a little bad about your earlier encounter, but now wasn’t the time. For all you know, that could have been the last time you ever spoke to him, so you didn’t want to waste it on possibly unnecessary apologies. He seemed repressed, like there was something he wanted to say but just couldn’t find the words or the strength to do so, but the encounter ended up being more friendly than you had interacted with each other in weeks.

He handed you a little zip up bag, telling you it was full of Narcan in case you were accidentally dosed. You had taken it, your fingertips brushing against his for less than a second, but enough for you to feel comforted. You thanked him, and he gave you a small fleeting smile before his eyes went back to his feet. “I don’t doubt that you know what you’re doing, but please, be safe.” He had said. You had to hold back tears. You didn’t want to cry in front of him, but you felt guilty for snapping at him earlier and you didn’t know how to apologise (damn your sleep-deprived brain). You also felt the urge to just tell him everything; your feelings, your favourite moments with him, how much you were going to miss seeing him every day. And although you desperately wanted to throw your arms around him and hug him so tight you might stop his lungs from working, you just nodded, and he walked away, leaving you to go back to reading your files, or at least try to.

Now, after surprisingly one of the best sleeps you’d had in the last month, you were nearly ready for your first meet with Perez this evening. You were dressed in a tattered hoodie you usually only wore to bed, some leggings that had begun to thin out from wear and a pair of canvas pumps that had a hole in the front. Your usually pristinely-kept hair was looking more like a rat’s nest than an actually rat’s nest, and you were planning on going for a run or doing some sort of workout before you went to the meet to work up a sweat and make it more believable that you were an addict in withdrawal. Also, the bags and dark circles under your eyes from the recent sleepless nights actually worked in your favour.

You were so engrossed in reading the file and going over your plan that the knock at your door startled you more than it should have. You stood from your chair at the kitchen table, pushing it back under before stepping carefully over to the front door. You peered through the spyhole, being surprised to see your partner stood outside. You assumed he had brought you something you had forgotten, but you had to let him in quick before anyone saw and suspected anything, so you opened the door and roughly pulled him in by his arm.

“Nice to see you too.” He joked as you stuck your head out of the door and looked around for anyone, but being satisfied that there was no one there, you came back in and locked it before turning around. You could tell he was surprised to see you looking so…not you. He lifted an eyebrow as he looked you up and down, and if it wasn’t for how worn down you looked and how self-conscious you were of your appearance right now, the action would have sent a heat straight to your core. “On second thoughts, maybe not.”

“Well, I am trying to sell the ‘utterly broke drug addict’ act, so you shouldn’t have expected a ball gown.” You shot back, teasingly.

“I wasn’t, it’s just so different to how good you look normally.” He said, walking over to your couch, unaware of what he just let slip out. It made your mind race ridiculously fast, just like your heart, but you realised he probably didn’t mean it in the way you hoped he did.

“As much as I am enjoying your company, what are you doing here?” You went and leant up against the wall facing him.

“I’m here to let you know it’s not too late to pull out of this.” He looked straight into your eyes as he said it, so deeply you were worried he might have seen how nervous you were under your brave facade.

“Well, I’m not going to.”

“Y/N, it’s too dangerous. We don’t know what Perez does to the girls. She could kill you.”

“I know how to handle myself, Jay.” You squinted your eyes at him, as if you thought he was speaking utter nonsense. Really, you just didn’t want to think about the possibility of him being right.

“But you won’t have back-up in there with you.”

“I’m not a damsel in distress, Halstead! You don’t need to be my knight in shining armour. I know what I’m doing, and most of the unit will be outside at all times in case I need you, anyways.”

“Don’t do this, Y/N. We can find another way in-”

“Don’t you see? I have to do this! There is no other way. I owe it to the girls and their families to find them and stop any more from getting hurt. If I don’t, I won’t be able to live with myself. So let me decide what I can and can’t do, Jay, please.”

You didn’t realise you were both shouting now, not until you noticed how out of breath you both were and that Jay was now very close to you after standing up to have the shouting match. You could smell him, that mix of eucalyptus and cedarwood you love, so close that if you were to reach out a hand, you could grab the back of his neck and pull his lips to yours. You even think you might have seen his eyes fleeting down to your own lips for a second. Only you didn’t act on your desires. Instead, you walked over to the kitchen, wrapping your arms around yourself in some sort of hug, keeping your back to him.

“I appreciate your concern,” You practically whispered, so quiet you were unsure if he could even hear you. “But I’ll be fine. Plus, you have my back. You always have my back.”

You turned slowly to see that he hadn’t moved an inch, only his eyes had followed you to where you were, excruciatingly far from where you were mere seconds earlier.

“And I always will.” He muttered in reply. He began to walk towards the door with soft steps, passing you on his way, unlatching it when he got there, but before he could open it, he turned back to you once more. “Stay safe, Y/N. I need my partner.”

And with that, he was gone, leaving you to slump down into the couch with your head spinning, in the same place he was sat before, desperate to savour the faint scent he left behind to calm your nerves.

***

The first thing you noticed when you turned onto the street was the van. It had “A. Johnson & Sons Plumbing” printed onto the side of it, the vinyl sticker peeling slightly at the edges with age. It was one of three the 21st precinct owned, each one a different company on the outside, but practically the same layout on the inside. You knew they were watching the visual and listening to the audio that the tiny camera and microphone picked up in your necklace, whilst the unmarked car that housed another two members of your unit would only be listening to the audio.

You checked your work phone before you left the apartment with just your undercover burner, being met with a message from Hailey telling you how Jay had pushed for the first shift in the van, which made you smile. You kept that close to your heart as you walked down the cold dark street, getting closer to the restaurant with each step.

“Everything okay?” You said a few feet from the restaurant after checking nobody was around you.

“All good. Do your thing, Y/N.” Hailey’s reassuring voice came through the small earpiece you had in.

You pulled open the door to the front of the restaurant, immediately aware of how out of place you looked in your scruffy clothes compared to the smartly dressed patrons dotted around at their tables. You caught one of the waitresses’ eye, who, after scrunching her nose up at you, made her way over.

“Table for one?” She asked you, her voice a little strained as she looked you up and down with a slight hint of disgust. You really were a sight; sweaty from your run, shaking and scruffy in an attempt to sell your act.

“I’m here to see Ms Perez?” You asked, your eyes frantic, unable to focus on anything. At least that’s what you wanted her to think.

“Um, I’ll go see if she’s busy. Wait here.” The waitress said before disappearing through the doors at the back of the restaurant.

You had earned some interest from some diners now, being the topic of a few hushed discussions and wary glances. You knew that it’d be caught on the camera you wore, and you could only imagine Jay’s massive eye roll at how sheltered and rude they were acting, which calmed you slightly and made you smile on the inside. You saw the waitress returning, looking uneasy at the news you were about to receive from her. You expected what she was going to say before she even opened her mouth.

“Ms Perez gives her apologies, but she’s very busy right now. She said to ask you to leave.”

You began to plead with her, quietly but not too quiet that you wouldn’t appear erratic and in need of a fix, but she didn’t budge, and so you left with a huff, your hand shaking as you reached for the door handle.

You’d expected this to happen, seeing as the same had occurred to a girl you saw when you were doing surveillance. You followed what she did that night a few weeks ago. You looked behind you to check if the waitress watched you leave, which she hadn’t, so you turned to the right and made your way to the back of the restaurant to where the deliveries went. It was even darker down there, with no streetlights to illuminate your way, only the mild moonlight. You made it to the back, seeing nobody to stop you, and so you entered through the door that you assumed led to the corridor where her office was. You were right, as the second door on the left had a plaque on the door that read “Ms Elena Perez, Owner and Manageress”, and so you knocked.

“Enter!” You heard from inside, the call muffled by the door. So you did, timidly opening the door and stepping in. She hadn’t looked up from her computer yet, so she hadn’t seen you, but you definitely saw her. She definitely wasn’t your average drug dealer, that’s for sure; dressed to the nines in her figure-hugging dress, a scarlet red that reminded you of fresh blood complemented her caramel features perfectly. The same shade was painted onto her lips and her nails, like a wolf who had just feasted. If you weren’t so confident in your skills, you would have instantly been intimidated, and so that’s the front you put on. You hugged yourself with one arm, trying to make yourself as small as possible, whilst the other was busy scratching some imaginary itch on your arm. You immediately dropped your focus from her before she got suspicious, your eyes fleeting around the room at where you could place a bug, but to her, you would just be acting like a normal addict going through withdrawal.

She probably expected you to speak first, thinking you were one of her staff, but when you stayed quiet, she raised her eyes. At first, they were imitating the kindness a good boss might show to her workers, but when she saw it was a drug addict, the one she had told to get lost, her eyes became icy with manipulation. It was like she was a lion and her prey was about to walk directly where she wanted it.

“I thought I told you to leave.” She questioned, standing as she tilted her head at you. With her heels, she was definitely taller than you, something she must have took pleasure in.

“Please, Ms Perez, I was told…I, um, I need…” You began, mumbling and stumbling over your words.

Game time.

“A fix? Anyone within fifty feet of you would be able to tell that. But why would I be able to help you with that?”

“Um, Rachel said you could help me? I was clean until I lost my job a few months ago, but then I slipped back into old habits and I’m really struggling with money right now, I thought you might be more understanding than other…you know…and let me pay you over time and in other ways than money.”

“I don’t usually.”

“Please.” You beg, meeting her eyes properly for the first time. You see her consider it, because her eyes seem to go to a dark place, and you know that you were right in going with this approach. It followed the pattern of the other girls, so it was your best bet after all.

“What’s your name?”

“Riley. Riley Hensley.”

“Okay, Riley. I hope I can take you for your word.” Perez concedes, walking over to a safe she has in the corner of the room, typing in a code to open it and then pulling out a little dime bag of a white powder. “Heroin?”

You nod, beginning to act excited. Before you can say anything, though, she reached out her empty hand, palm up.

“Give me what you have on you today, and I’ll see what you owe.”

You stuck a hand into the pocket of your hoodie, grabbing the crumpled-up bills you had brought with you. Two tens. You put them in her palm, and after inspecting them, she handed you over the bag, which you took eagerly.

“This is enough for today.” She held up the bills before walking back to sit down. “If you come back to see me, don’t go to the front again.”

“Yes, yes, of course, thank you.” You nodded before leaving quickly. Perez thought she had laid the bait, and you had snatched it right up, when really it was you who had her right where you wanted her.

***

It went on like this for a week or so; you bringing the right amount for what she gave you. But it soon became a deal of you bringing whatever cash you could scrounge with anything valuable you had to offer. For a while, the bags got bigger and bigger, fuelling your faux addiction, until the value of the items you brought decreased and you had no cash to your name.

You had gone a couple of days without seeing her, pretending that you didn’t have anything to give, and so when you turned up tonight with a measly pair of tarnished silver earrings that ‘belonged to your mother before she died’, she didn’t seem pleased.

“You realise these aren’t even worth ten bucks, right?” She laughed in your face to degrade you. You began to fumble with your fingers.

“They’re real silver-“

“I don’t give a shit. I’m not giving you anything.” She shrugged and sat back down at her desk.

You looked at her, dumbfounded and desperate. “Please, Ms Perez. I need it.”

She didn’t even acknowledge you.

“Ms Perez, please, I’ll bring you something better tomorrow, I promise.”

She seems to perk up at your words, looking up at you with what can only be described as an evil smile.

“I don’t take promises as payment, little girl.”

You sighed audibly. “You know I keep my promises, Ms Perez. I always have before.”

“If I give you something now, you promise me that you will come back here tomorrow with something worth it?”

You nod eagerly.

“Okay then.”

She stands, getting you the same size bag that she gave you the first time a few weeks ago. As you take it from her, she grips your forearm hard, making you yelp in pain.

“You better keep your promise, girly, or you’ll have to pay me back another way.”

You whimper your consent to her, and, satisfied, she releases your arm. You left quickly, rubbing at your arm. It was definitely going to bruise. Once in the fresh air, you took a deep breath, going over the encounter in your head. ‘Pay me back another way.’ You felt a smile tug at your lips. You were getting somewhere.

Walking away from the restaurant, you saw the familiar van parked at the end of the road, so you said, “Pull round the corner. I’ll meet you there.”

You saw someone get out of the back and walk round to the driver’s side before the van drove off. You carried on the same way, and when you got to the van, you opened the back doors and got in, finding Adam and Jay sat waiting for you.

It was the first time since he came to your undercover apartment that you had seen Jay, but he looked a lot rougher than he had that day. His hair was messier, his eyes more tired and he looked overwhelmingly worried. But you didn’t have the time to ask him how he was doing. You knew you were close to finding the much-needed answers, you just had to keep going.

“Wow, you look rough.” Adam teased, and you rolled your eyes at him.

“Ha ha, funny. Did you hear all that?” You asked.

“Yeah, we did.” Adam replied, serious this time.

“Another way to pay her…” Jay repeated what he heard, and you saw a sliver of hope flash across his face.

You nodded, the same smile you had earlier returning. “Yeah, I really think we’re getting somewhere.”

“Just…be careful, Y/N.” Jay met your eyes, and you could read a million more things he wanted to say to you right now, but you both didn’t have the time.

“I will. I better be going, then.” You said, slipping out of the van and walking back to your apartment, a little more bounce in your step than you had before.

***

Another week went by, and each time you met with Perez, you brought next to nothing, but she always said very little at all in protest. You knew it wasn’t enough to pay for what she was giving you, but she was being extremely lenient. Of course, you did this on purpose, wanting to see what the alternative form of payment would be, but you were beginning to give up hope after seven days. That was until you turned up tonight, at your usual time, and Perez wasn’t alone. The man in her office wasn’t one you ever saw before, and you knew that the team in the van would be running him through facial rec to put a name to the face.

“Who is this?” You said to Perez, glancing between them both. He was tall, rather muscular, good-looking, the same caramel skin and dark hair that Perez had, but they didn’t share similar features, so they definitely weren’t related. You might have been attracted to him if you didn’t know what he was probably involved in, or if your heart didn’t love someone else.

“This is Nicolas.” Perez replied, the same evil smile she wore so well was resting on her face.

“And why is Nicolas here?” You decided to go with the sassy approach.

“You owe me.” She stated simply. “Nicolas works for me, in a different branch, so to speak.”

You furrow your brows. What the hell is she on about? “And?”

“You are going to work off your debt.”

Your eyes go wide. “I can’t, I already have a job.”

“At the convenience store. I know. But it isn’t paying you nearly enough to pay your debt. Plus, we’d provide you with whatever you need.”

“Really?”

“Of course.” It was Nicolas that spoke this time. His voice was smooth, comforting even, but it still put you on edge. “You can start tonight. You’d earn a lot of money with your body.”

“Um, I don’t know…” You mumble, starting to back towards the door. Nicolas began to walk slowly towards you. You’d expected some sort of sex trafficking, but didn’t think this was how you’d be integrated into it.

“Y/N, don’t go anywhere. We don’t have GPS on you, it’s not safe for you to go mobile.” You heard Jay through your earpiece.

“I need to go quit my job at the store. I don’t want to leave on bad terms. I promise I’ll come back tomorrow, and then I’ll start working for you.” You tried to compromise, but both of them had a hungry look in their eyes.

You knew they weren’t going to budge. You had to escape. So you turned to run, pushing down hard on the door handle when you felt Nicolas grab your arm. You tried to thrash around to get him off, but when that didn’t work, you threw your head back, hearing what you assumed was his nose crunch with the force, which worked.

You swung open the door, ready to sprint, when this time you were pulled back by your necklace, which snapped off, and two arms wrapped around you from behind, stopping you from going. You began to scream, knowing the team would be starting to move in, but you had to hold your own for maybe thirty seconds. Only, you didn’t have that, as you felt the sharp jab of a needle in your thigh, and suddenly you felt an overwhelming urge to sleep, your eyes feeling heavy and every muscle growing weak. The last thing you saw was darkness as some sort of bag was pulled over your head.

***

You felt groggy when you began to stir, the feeling starting to flood back into your limbs, but still you couldn’t move. You looked around with fear-filled eyes, realising you were alone in a dingy basement. It wasn’t big enough to be that of a warehouse, more like a normal house. You listened hard for any sounds, but all you could hear was the occasional car driving past, nothing distinctive.

You tried to move, getting jolted back as you rolled over. You looked to the wall, finding a chain than lead to some sort of cuff on your wrist, and you knew then that you were stuck there until someone came to find you. You felt a chilled draught rush over your skin, and when you looked down you saw you were only in your underwear, sprawled out on a filthy mattress.

Immediately you felt violated, and you had yet to feel any pain associated with what you thought they would have already done to you. Still, you were angry. Upset. Furious. Disappointed in yourself for being in that position, the one where you couldn’t escape. But, even in hindsight, you couldn’t think of anything you could have done differently to save yourself from this situation, besides wearing a GPS tracker, which none of expected to need.

Your only hope was the team had caught the licence plate before you were driven off to wherever you were. For now, all you could do was wait. And with waiting came thinking, something you barely had enough energy to do right now, but as soon as your mind flooded with the thoughts of your friends and family, you were more than happy to use whatever power you had left on them.

First, your mind went to your family, the last holiday you spent together, all the time you spent without thinking once about work. Next, you thought of your unit, how they were like your second family, the fun you had each day with them, even when you were dealing with the worst mankind had to offer. The laughs from the after-work drinks at Molly’s in celebration as jokes were shared around the table. And then, you thought of Jay.

Why the hell hadn’t you told him before you left? You knew this was one of the most dangerous operations you had ever been on, and yet you were too cowardly to let him know your feelings. You didn’t want to think like that right now, though, so your mind just went to him. His jokes that made you laugh so hard you could barely breathe, his little chuckle that was like a music to your ears you yearned to hear every day, the way he was able to comfort you like no one else after a rough case, making you content and at peace with the world once more, a feat that wasn’t easy to achieve when the darkness hit you hard.

It was then that your little reverie was interrupted by the bolt on the door being slid across, the heavy metal clanging sound reverberating around the room, or was it in your head? You were still a little fuzzy, after all. The footsteps sounded menacing as whoever it was made their way towards you. You were trying to focus on their face, but it was proving to be more difficult than it should have been.

“You’re awake.” The voice was familiar, not overly so but you had definitely heard it before. You saw the hand coming towards your face in a blur before you felt it, but that did nothing to quell the sting when it collided with your cheek. You managed to supress the cry of pain, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. That’s when he gripped your jaw roughly, his fingers and thumb digging into opposite cheeks to give you that ridiculous pout to humiliate you. “Ah, I expected you to be stubborn. No need to worry, we’ll wear you down and fuck you so hard that by the end of the week, you’ll be begging for mercy through tears. Call it your initiation.”

You took a sharp intake of breath at the words, and he chuckled darkly. Your eyes finally focused, seeing the same caramel skin and dark chocolate hair you mistrusted earlier.

Nicolas.

“The ketamine still wearing off?” He laughed, throwing your face down with ease. That’s when you heard him start to unbuckle his belt. “That should make the next part easier then…”

It was like the adrenaline began to surge in waves through your veins at those words, and you began to thrash around, smacking away his hands and screaming bloody murder until your throat felt raw, but you didn’t stop. He grabbed each ankle in his hands, tight as vices, and still you lashed out, kicking your legs, trying to connect with his body anywhere you could. There was absolutely no way you would go down without a fight.

He'd managed to pin your legs down with his knees when his fingertips found the fabric of your panties, your arms still flailing with purpose in his direction, and before he could pull them down, the metal door swung open, crashing into the brick wall with a crack.

Nicolas got distracted, turning his once hungry eyes away from you to see the cause of the noise, which allowed you to dislodge a leg from underneath him, wrapping one and then the other tightly around his neck before squeezing them so hard you were surprised you didn’t break it.

You were still crying, still so flooded with adrenaline and the overwhelming need to survive that you jumped at the warm hand placed on your arm, beginning to lash out at it once again, when the hand turned into an arm, and then two, wrapped tightly but not overly so around your torso, prompting you to let go of the man you had now knocked out cold. You felt a hard chest meet your back, calming you and somehow you knew it was safe to let go, to just cry, to let it all out.

“Ssh, Y/N, I got you, I got you.” The voice was warm, inviting, comforting, one you loved so much, one you trusted with your life.

“Jay.” You whimpered in between cries, and his arms loosened slightly at your realisation. You turned ever so slightly so you could tuck your head into his neck, the tears still flowing. He rocked you gently in an effort to comfort you, but he knew you needed to get this out of your system.

You were still crying when you felt the blanket wrap around you, when you were practically carried out by Jay and into the back of a car, still sat in his lap with your head nuzzled into his neck, craving that familiar eucalyptus and cedarwood smell that would calm you. You had relaxed by the time the car pulled to a stop, and you were helped into the pristine building and onto a gurney, a hospital gown placed onto the bed for you to put on whilst everyone cleared out of the room with a few lingering looks your way before the curtain was pulled across.

You did just that, giving yourself a moment to reflect before opening the curtain. You were safe. You were unharmed, mostly. You were shaken up, but it wasn’t anything you couldn’t work through. You were okay.

“I’m ready.” You said as you pulled back the curtain. You were met with a warm smile from Natalie before you got situated on the bed.

***

About an hour later, after you had endured countless tests and a visit from Dr Charles, your team was given the go ahead to come in to see you. They walked in with caution, but at your bright smile, they seemed to relax.

“Did you find the other girls?” You got out before they could even ask you how you were, which earned a chuckle.

“There’s our Y/N,” Adam laughed. “Always straight down to business.”

You merely smiled and shrugged before looking around at each member, expecting an answer.

“Yeah, we found all of them upstairs in various rooms. Looked like the start of a sex trafficking ring, so we did good to catch it early, but it was all thanks to you, Y/N.” Hailey was the one to provide you with it.

“Don’t be silly, we all worked hard, and we did it together, although I do expect a couple of days off, boss. I’m exhausted.” You laughed along with the rest of the room.

“I’ll see what I can do.” Voight smiled at you genuinely.

You saw everyone’s eyes fleet towards Jay, who was yet to say anything, when Vanessa coughed lightly. “Well, we’ll give you some space to rest up. See you soon, Y/N.”

You thanked everyone for coming, exchanging goodbyes as they all walked out one by one, except for Jay.

He had his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans, his eyes looking anywhere but yours until everyone had left. When he finally looked up, seeing you smiling at him, he relaxed, taking a few steps towards you so he could sit on the edge of the bed.

“Hi.” He said a little sheepishly.

“Hi.” You replied. You felt a small blush creeping up your neck.

“How are you?” He asked, lightly checking you over for any visible injuries.

“I’m better. They didn’t…do anything. Like that.”

“Good. Otherwise they wouldn’t be leaving the cage for a couple of days.”

“Yeah…” You smiled weakly. There was a little bit of tension in the air. You weren’t used to being so close and open with him, but it felt…nice. “How’d you find me?”

“We saw the plate on the van as it sped off but couldn’t get back to the car in time to tail it. We put a BOLO out and started canvassing, but it was a couple hours later when we found it in the driveway of some house, so we thought we were too late. Luckily, we weren’t.”

You nodded along slowly before the silence resumed, but not for long. “Thank you.” You whispered meekly.

“Hm?” He furrowed his brows as you locked eyes.

“You know, for getting to me before…”

“Y/N, I told you I always have your back, and I meant it.” He said, and you saw something in his eyes you had never seen before.

“I know.” You hummed, and you felt an overwhelming urge to tell him. To tell him how you felt, that you had loved him for months and were too scared to say anything. “Listen, Jay, I need to tell you something.”

“I do too, Y/N, and I know, I’m the same, but not now. It wouldn’t be right.”

You didn’t feel deterred or ashamed. You completely understood him and wholeheartedly agreed. Although you weren’t sure if you were going to say the same thing, you just nodded, but you craved that comfort you knew he gave you, whilst also wanting to reassure yourself.

So you reached out your hand for his, and he met yours, interlacing your fingers together, his thumb running gently over the back of your hand. He lifted it to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your skin, letting his lips linger there longer than would be considered just friendly, before lowering them back down to the bed. He leaned forward, not to kiss you, put to place your foreheads together, an action that seemed more intimate than a kiss right now. He lifted his eyes to yours once more, and looking into them, that’s when you knew for sure.

You loved Jay Halstead, and Jay Halstead loved you.

#jay halstead #jay halstead imagines #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead fanfiction #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead angst #Chicago PD #One Chicago #chicago pd imagine

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nuttytani · 4 years ago

Text

The flying cat & the baker

summary: you are a sorcerer who owns a bakery in new york. one day, steve discovers your abilities when he walks in on your cat flying inside the shop on a broom.

fandom: marvel

pairing: steve rogers x gn!reader

warnings: lots of mentions of baked goods and the word "horny" just once (it's not nsfw, trust me)

a/n- heya! another fic~ this was inspired by girl in red's "fell in love in october". i know it's extremely off season but yeet i dont care + my dear friend @lorei-writes / @mllorei beta read this! *gives hug to lorey* thank you so much ;-; lorey. ps: this is a non-avengers!au

It wasn't an uncommon occurrence for Steve to get lost in the sea of New York streets, walking along the cobblestone paths, breathing in the scent of baked goods, spice and fresh flowers. After all, it was his most favourite part of his daily routine, discovering a new place or two. He took his time looking around the nearly empty street, for it was too early for anyone to be awake except for the store owners. They were all busy preparing their shops for opening to notice his presence.

Steve looked up for a moment, noticing the light of dawn setting upon the sky, sending small beams of yellow light like blessings cast by angels. His low breathing felt warm against his chapped and cold lips. With a silent sigh, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his pea coat as he resumed strolling without a set direction in mind, eyeing the buildings- the chipped off parget, showing the reds and browns of the brick underneath while moss and vines covered most of the bottom half.

They all turned into a blur once he stood by a jade coloured bakery, the sign reading “magicae et pistoria”, a silhouette of a black cat on a broom just underneath it. He stared curiously at the displayed varieties of pastries and bread, wondering if he should buy a few- would Sam and Nat like to eat them?

With hesitant fingers, he grasped the door handle and entered, instantly greeted by the bell. Barely a few seconds passed, and Steve felt immensely at ease. His body appreciated the warm cocoon provided by the bakery- in contrast to the weather outside. The interior was rustic, with brick walls and wooden fixtures. His feet lead him magnetically towards the delicacies contained in the arched display, varieties of cakes, pastries and bread placed temptingly- he didn’t know which one to pick.

“Hello! Good morning, how may I help you, sir?” A voice pulled Steve out of his reverie.

Steve looked up to see you, your hair a mess, dust covering the black apron and your forehead, a cute smile adorning your face. You looked like an ethereal being- an angel perhaps, standing before him. Somehow, a breath got stuck in his throat, and his heart started to beat rapidly. He could hear it getting louder and louder. His clothes felt too tight, and he suddenly felt suffocated.

“Sir? How may I help you?” you said again.

Steve cleared his throat, embarrassed with himself for staring at you for much longer than necessary. He muttered an apology under his breath, but it was loud enough for you to hear.

“It’s alright, sir, happens all the time. I’ve experienced many people just gawking at the pastries and not knowing what to pick, it’s understandable! I’d be confused too,” you confessed to him.

“Right, of course, glad I’m not the only one or that would’ve been embarrassing,” Steve laughed, trying to bury his awkwardness.

Only if you knew the truth, he’d personally dig his own grave and jump into it.

Steve accepted your help instead of going down the rabbit hole of confusion. You helped him to pick out a few baked goodies- which were a rage amongst your regular customers; a chocolate mousse, Japanese cheesecake and a few vanilla custard doughnuts.

“Thank you! Have a good day,” you said, as the blonde man left the store with a wave.

“Damn, I hope I didn’t look too nervous,” wiping your sweaty palms on your apron, you heaved a sigh of relief.

You usually didn't open the bakery on the weekends, but some things needed to be done, which required your presence. You were sure that no one would come along so early in the morning but were proven wrong. Although it was your fault to leave the open sign hanging, you didn't mind the blonde-haired man and maybe thought he was kinda cute.

You flipped the sign to “closed” while locking the door from inside, as to make sure no one could come in. You moved back to the counter and caught a hand wrapping around a glass jar.

You cleared your throat and glared at the man in question.

“What do you think you’re doing mister.” You folded your arms and glared at the brunette.

“What does it look like? I’m trying to eat some cookies, obviously. You should get your eyes checked if you can’t see things clearly boss,” Rajeev replied and swiftly turned to look at you.

The brunette shrunk and transformed into a black cat, looking at you with bright doe hazel eyes while purring deeply. You groaned and picked him up, placing him on your shoulder.

“There’ll be consequences if you transform like that out of nowhere, and your sister is going to kill me because you haven't been careful. So, if you don’t want me to be skinned alive and thrown into a cauldron to be boiled, stop doing that here.” Truly, nothing scared you more than Rajeev’s elder sister- she was overprotective and intimidating, you wished to never be on her blacklist.

Rajeev only meowed back at you, which frustrated you further. You hoped that he at least understood where your concerns were coming from.

“Come on, we’ve got a lot of organising to do! New stock arrived today, we don’t want cranky sorcerers waiting for us,” you said while muttering a spell and opening a red portal to an apothecary.

By the time Steve returned home, his friends were all awake and wandering about the kitchen like zombies. They all knew about Steve’s early morning walks and didn't question him but were curious as to why he came back so late.

Sam immediately rummaged through the bakery boxes when Steve placed them on the island counter.

“So...what took you so much time, hmm?” asked Sam. “Thought you just went to get some bread, dude.” He rummaged through the bag and pulled out a box, ooh-ing delightedly once he got hold of a doughnut.

“I bet it was some grandma asking for directions,” Bucky yawned, still half-asleep as he took a seat on the chair.

Natasha stole the doughnut from Sam and promptly turned to face Steve, who lay on the couch.

“Maybe, he has a secret lover! Oh Stevie, how could you hide this from us?” she said teasingly while licking away at her sugary fingertips.

Sam was distressed by her stealing and guarded the boxes with his arms, grumbling something about him not having enough coffee for this.

“Can you guys just stop- I just went to a bakery and got stuff, nothing more, nothing less!” Steve raised his voice.

All of them just shrugged.

Nat broke the silence, “Okay...But did you see any cuties?”

“NO- I mean... yes, kinda… I mean- Stop asking me these questions!” groaning with embarrassment, Steve covered his face with his palms.

Steve started frequenting “magicae et pistoria” since then to the point he became a regular customer. Not because he wanted to see your dazzling smile or anything, but because the service and baked goods were really good and his friends wanted more of that deliciousness. He became quite close to you as a result, somedays he just dropped by to say hi and spend some time with you.

Occasionally, Sam or Bucky would tag along to his trips. Even though Steve would deny it, they could clearly see he had a crush on the baker- it was obvious by their playful banter and flushed faces. They’d often tease him about it, but Steve being Steve, would just grump away and aggressively change the subject.

Another weekend rolled in, Steve was headed to the bakery as usual. It became a part of his routine to visit it during his morning walks. You, on the other hand, arrived late to the bakery and were rushing to get the place running in no time. It was just you and Rajeev today since your other employees didn't work on the weekends- it was tough but both of you managed.

While you were busy running around the place, Rajeev was playing around in his cat form, saying you didn’t really need him until later. He levitated the spare broom in the air and jumped on it, trying to balance his paws on the handle. Like a child with no care, he flew the broom back and forth across the room with an evil cat smile.

The two of you were unaware of Steve’s presence until he spoke in a startled voice.

“Why is the cat flying on a broom- what is this!”

Everything happened in a flash, Rajeev fell off the broom with a pathetic meow and you dropped your utensils on the floor. Flour and batter splattering on your shoes and creating a mess. Your scream resonating from the kitchen.

Steve’s jaw was slack with shock, his body frozen where he stood. Should he run away? Should he go and check if you’re alright? He wasn’t sure what to do, he didn't even know if what he saw was even real.

The cat was definitely real, as it stood up and rubbed its bum with its paws. How was that possible- Did he even want to know? Was he dreaming? Maybe he is still half asleep and is seeing things.

Steve grabbed a nearby stool and flopped on it, his knees were weak from shock and needed rest. His mind was still processing the situation

You came rushing from the kitchen to the scene, the mess you created all trivial compared to what had just happened right now. You didn't know what to do at this moment, should you tell the truth? Or deny everything-

“What is that thing,” Steve finally asked, breaking the heavy silence.

“A cat,” you replied as a matter of factly.

“You keep a flying cat?”

You just stared at Steve with a straight face and said, “Well...firstly he’s not mine and secondly he’s not an actual cat.”

As if showing a demonstration, Rajeev transformed back into his human form, which baffled Steve further.

“What are you?” the blonde asked in confusion.

“We’re sorcerers...I’m sorry, you weren’t supposed to know about it, at least not in this way,” you sighed, gently placing a hand over Steve’s knee.

“But boss- we’re busted, now that he knows we gotta turn him into a toad!” Rajeev exclaimed.

“A WHAT NOW?!” Steve looked back at you with raised brows.

“We’re not turning you into anything! He’s just joking- Rajeev! Apologise to him”

The brunette sulkily grumbled an apology. He excused himself to the kitchen to clean up the mess you had made while you took a seat next to Steve.

“Are you alright? Want some water?”

“No thanks, I’m fine. Just...really really shocked- I can’t believe this is real.”

With a flick of your hand, you made two barstools twirl in the air.

“Okay- definitely real,” Steve chuckled.

Extra (few months have passed)

Steve sat on the armchair with you sprawled on his lap, tapping away at your phone while Sam, Nat and Bucky sat on the floor watching another episode of “the Bridgerton” on T.V.

“Damn kids these days be really horny huh?”

“Shh just watch the show!”

+ "-if you enjoyed reading this fic, don't forget to give a like and reblog! feedback is always appreciated

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#steve rogers #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x reader #marvel #mcu #tani writes!!

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hide-in-imagination · 3 years ago

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"Roads That Cross... on a Day Off"

You can read the previous chapters here: (1), (2), (3), (4), (5), (6), (7), (8), (9), (10), (11), (12), (13), (14), (15), (16), (17), (18), (19), (20), (21)

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Inspired by 'Call it what you want', which is honestly THE simbar song. The author regrets nothing.

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Simón’s left arm was asleep.

He noticed it the moment he woke up, but he refused to move. The prettiest head of blonde locks was using it as a pillow, and who was he to disturb her?

It was a rare occurrence that he woke up before Ámbar. She was a natural early riser while he liked to sleep as much as possible. He usually woke up from her movements as she started her day, or— and this was his favorite— with some caress or kisses from her part. He could start becoming a morning person if that was what awaited him.

So, uncommon as it was, he wanted to cherish this, just this, having her close in complete calmness. Ámbar’s back was to his chest, their legs close together, and his free arm was around her middle, holding her against him. He wanted to run his hand over her skin, or maybe take hers in his, but he didn’t want to risk anything putting an end to this moment.

He fleetingly wondered how long his arm could go without blood flow before it did some damage.

Oh well, who cared.

He couldn’t see her face spooning her like this, but he noticed when she started waking because the even rhythm of her breathing he had been following changed. She began to move, stretching slightly in a way that pressed her back more into him. Simón did hold her hand then and kissed her shoulder. She hummed softly and turned her head to look at him.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” he said with a smile.

“Good morning,” she murmured, her voice groggy from sleep. She rolled to rest her head on his chest, which his left arm appreciated. He laid on his back. “What time is it?” She asked after a moment of just relishing the closeness.

Simón extended his right arm over to the nightstand to check his phone. “Almost eleven.”

“Eleven?!” Ámbar jumped, as if he’d said four in the afternoon. “Wow, I hadn’t slept in this much in a long time…” She said, recovering from the surprise. She brought her gaze to his with a coquettish look. “You really wore me out.”

Simón smiled smugly and gave a small shrug. “Well, what can I say? I like to be very thorough,” he said playfully. “Or… maybe all of this was part of my evil plan to get you to let me sleep until a decent hour.”

She raised her brows. “Decent hour? By the time we go downstairs, we might as well have lunch.”

He gave her a look. “You’re totally exaggerating, it’s not that late.” He turned on his side and ran his knuckles softly over her right arm. “And anyway, I wasn’t planning on going to the dining room.” He smiled at her. “How does breakfast in bed sound?”

Her eyes sparkled. “Really?”

“Of course. It’s the least my queen deserves.”

She tilted her head to the side with the cutest melted smile.

“Aww.” She cupped his cheek and leaned in to kiss him. “I love you.”

He gave her another peck. “I love you more.”

She drew back with a gasp in fake outrage. “You do not want to start that discussion, mister.”

“Oh really?” He said, playing along.

“Yep, because you’re going to lose,” she said confidently. “So better give up now while you still can.”

He smirked. “Or what?”

Ámbar’s eyes narrowed with challenge just as he wanted. With the hint of a smile on her lips, she rose and sat astride him, keeping his gaze from above.

“Or I’ll have to show you just how wrong you are.”

Simón kept his mask of a straight face. “That remains to be seen.”

One beat later, he went and flipped her over, making her explode into giggles that he captured with kisses in between his own smiles.

Maybe breakfast could wait.

*****************

The instant that “Esta Noche No Paro” stopped playing, claps and cheers replaced the music. Gastón was fascinated with the final product. It was magical to see everything put together when he’d been right there, in front of the camera, not knowing the shots that would come out of it. He was happy to see that both his dance moves and the choreography’s synch had come out great, but even more than that, he was happy to see the twinkle on Matteo’s eyes and the huge grin that split his face in two. They’d watched the video at the Roller with Delfi, Jazmín, Pedro and Ramiro, and Gastón could honestly say that Matteo and Delfi deserved all the praises that came their way— The video was amazing.

Everyone was very excited, so much so that Pedro gave them all smoothies on the house. Gastón had missed hanging out with his friends like this, a lot. Just their cheery conversations were sweeter than any drink. It was good to be back, no matter how short the visit.

The group dispersed after a while, everyone continuing their daily routines. Gastón and Matteo stayed on a table, Matteo still stuck on the video.

“It’s just… I really think if there is one person that should be receiving praises right now, it’s Luna,” he said, half awed by her, half lamenting she wasn’t there. “I mean, she came up with the video, shemade it happen… I really don’t know how to thank her for all of this.”

Gastón looked at his friend and pretended to think for a second. “Mmm, I don’t know, maybe you could give her a bouquet of flowers,” he proposed, which Matteo seemed to like. “… And, while you’re at it, get back together with her.”

Matteo immediately became self-conscious. Gastón pushed forward. “Come on, dude, I’ve been here for a total of two days and it’s already obvious to me that you two still care about each other. Can you explain to me why you’re not together yet?”

Matteo averted his gaze, looking disheartened. “… A lot of things happened. Every time we get closer, we end up hurting each other and… Luna doesn’t feel the same way anymore.”

Gastón looked at him in disbelief. “Are you kidding me? Matteo, she organized a whole music video for you. To cheer you up, to make youhappy. What else do you want? For her to write it in the sky?”

Tentatively, Matteo brought his gaze to his. “You really think so?”

“Everyone thinks so,” he declared. “You just need to gather the courage and go for it.”

Hope and worry mixed in Matteo’s expression. He looked down, seeming deep in thought. Gastón wished he didn’t drown in those thoughts of his so much and listened to his heart.

Just then, Nina entered the Roller with Jim and Yam and his eyes followed her as she walked over to a table, settling with her laptop as they talked about one thing or another.

Gastón filled his lungs with a big, deep breath. Time to start following his own advice.

***********************

By the time they finally deigned to leave the bed it was like two in the afternoon, and only because Ámbar thought it’d be a bad idea to introduce herself to Simón’s mom while in bed with him. She wanted to make a good impression— The woman didn’t need to know how she was defiling her son.

They sat on one of the couches in the living room for a more neutral setting. Ámbar chose a white top with a white linen sweater over it for the occasion. It made her look harmless enough. She also liked how its black and cream pearl embellishments combined with her dark jeans, and the weather had been a bit cooler lately. Simón had also opted for wearing his jean shirt over his purple t-shirt instead of tying it around his hips for that same reason.

They settled in front of her laptop’s screen for the video chat. It had been Ámbar’s idea to have it through there so it was more comfortable, that way neither side had to be holding up a phone.

Just as Simón had told her, the call hadn’t been a serious affair at all. She’d been a little nervous at the beginning, but Simón’s mom’s wide smile and warm personality put her at ease quickly. The woman didn’t seem to hate her at all, and she seemed too genuine to be pretending to like her. She reminded her so much of Simón. She knew that he mostly looked like his dad from the photos she’d seen on his Instagram, but he had his mother’s eyes, and the more Ámbar talked to the woman, the more pieces of him she found in her. It warmed her heart.

It wasn’t a very long chat, but Simón’s mom found the time to tell her a fun story of when Simón was a kid, much to his embarrassment and her insurmountable enjoyment. She promised to show her the family photo albums when she visited Cancún. Ámbar loved the idea.

“You’ll have to show me your photos too then,” Simón told her, his eyes shining with excitement and curiosity.

Ámbar did her best to keep her smile in place. She didn’t have any photos from when she was a kid that she knew of. Sharon wasn’t one for sentimentalities like that. If she had any, they were probably taken by Amanda on specific dates like her first day at kindergarten and at the Blake. Maybe some from old birthdays. Ámbar had no idea where those could be though… if Sharon had kept them at all.

The only old photos she knew she had were from photoshoots. She’d first asked for one when she turned twelve, and had some more done after that. When all cellphones started having decent cameras, it became easier to have photos.

Ámbar chose not to say any of it, and tried not to let it darken her mood, but the bitter reminder stuck on the back of her mind. The contrast between Simón’s mom’s sweetness and the cold, scolding texts she’d been receiving from Sharon was too great. Ámbar was ignoring them. Her godmother had no right to reprimand her for anything when she was keeping her secret at the expense of jeopardizing her happiness.

The video call ended with Simón’s mom teasingly warning him to behave and giving Ámbar permission to put him in his place if he didn’t. The irony of Ámbar promising to keep him on the right track was not lost on her, but it was just playfulness in the end. She only hoped that the future plans they’d talked about did come to pass.

After that, Simón insisted on inviting her out for lunch. “When was the last time we had time for an actual date? We need to seize this opportunity!” He took her to a restaurant he’d visited before with Pedro and Nico. It was nothing fancy, completely unlike the restaurants Sharon took her to the times they ate outside, but it was nice, and the food was delicious. The company was the best part, of course. Ámbar felt like she could’ve eaten anything and anywhere as long as she was with Simón. She nursed her drink slowly just so they could stay there longer, smiling and conversing. She suspected he did the same.

They had a brief fight over who would pay the bill. Ámbar argued that there was no need for him to spend money on her when she had more than she needed, but Simón insisted that he had invited her so it should be his treat. She proposed splitting it, but Simón wanted to pay for both. Sensing that it was important to him, she relented.

She grabbed his hand as they left and they walked down the street with their fingers interlocked. Ámbar would’ve been happy to just walk around with him for the rest of the afternoon until the sun went down, but he proposed they went back to the mansion.

When they got there though, she didn’t get to cross the front door before Simón stopped her.

“Wait for me right here, don’t move.”

Ámbar frowned but did as told while he disappeared inside, curious as to what idea he’d come up with.

He reappeared about five minutes later, with both hands behind his back, sign that he was hiding something.

“Okay, so, um, I want to make you a surprise,” he started.

She smiled with interest. “Okay…”

“But, in order to do that, I’m going to need you to be out of the mansion for a while.”

Ámbar raised a brow. Now this was unexpected, but she was too curious to say no. “Like for how long?”

“I don’t know, an hour?”

“And… what am I supposed to do in the meantime?”

Simón finally brought his hands forward, revealing one pair of her skates and her helmet. “You can rollerskate,” he said cheerily. “I’ve noticed that with so much work you haven’t found much time to do so lately. And, I mean, it’s a shame really, to deny the world the chance of seeing the queen of the rink in action.”

Her heart melted with the flattery, and especially for how thoughtful a gesture it was. “You’re so cute. But the idea of this day was to spend it together,” she argued, moving closer to place her hands on his shoulders. “I would rather skate with you. I miss it.”

He showed a sympathetic smile. “Me too. We can do that if we find some time at work one of these days. But now,” he handed her her things, “you can have some alone time and clear your head.”

Ámbar received them with an acquiescent smile. “Okay.”

“I’ll text you when you can come back.”

“Okay. Just try not to destroy my house with whatever you have planned.”

Simón chuckled. “I won’t. I may have to borrow a couple of things though, you don’t mind?”

She shrugged. “You live here, grab whatever you like.”

They shared a short parting kiss.

“Have fun,” he said with a smile.

Ámbar gave him one last peck just because she could and left.

**********************

“Thank you for agreeing to meet with me.”

Nina smoothed her hands down her skirt. They were sweating so hard, and she knew it had nothing to do with the mellow autumn sun shining over them in the quiet square.

It was all about the boy in front of her, who’d always had the ability to make her heart pound. And to whom, she realized, she still hadn’t said anything.

“Yeah, well, we’re still friends, right?” She somehow managed to articulate nervously, trying to show a smile. “I mean, if you need something, advice or anything like that, I can help. Although, I don’t know if I’d really be much help. Maybe you should talk about it with Matteo?”

Gastón looked at her in silence, in the eyes, in a way that did nothing to calm her heart.

“Matteo can’t help me with this,” he said, just the slightest hint of sadness in his voice showing he wished it were not so. “No one, really... It is about you and me.”

Yes, that was exactly what she’d feared. “…You wanna talk about us?”

Gastón nodded solemnly.

“Could we take a seat?” He invited her gently, signaling to the bench right next to them.

They both sat, keeping some small distance between them, but they were still very close. When had been the last time they’d been this close? Alone? Nina was having a hard time keeping his gaze. She was gripping the strap of her bag so hard her fingers would probably hurt later.

“Look, Nina,” Gastón started, his tense shoulders the only thing that betrayed he was nervous too, “I’ve been thinking a lot these past few weeks… and you have no idea how much I miss you.”

Her heart clenched painfully.

God, how many times had she dreamed with him saying those words? So many scenarios, so many things she’d wished to say. And now she was frozen.

“Every second I’m not studying I think of you,” Gastón continued, his emotion-filled voice hitting her with each word. “Hell, even when I’m studying I think of you— That I haven’t failed a class is a miracle.” He looked down, ashamed. “And I know that saying this now is unfair when it was me who wanted to end it but… I need to correct my mistake.” Gastón looked up. Honest, determined eyes bore into hers. “I want us to be together again, Nina. I want you to be my girlfriend.”

Nina felt herself tremble.

“I… I don’t understand,” she uttered, her brain registering the words but unable to process them. Or perhaps she was too scared to. “What happened with all you said? What happened with not making each other suffer and letting destiny bring us back together someday if it was meant to be?” She’d held on to that. To the belief that their names were being kept by the sea and maybe they’d find each other in the future. She’d accepted that, and now he…

“That was before my best friend fell off a fence,” Gastón said, somber, and his expression just quieted her once more. “He could’ve died, Nina. One bad hit in the head is all it takes. And I would’ve been a hemisphere away.” His hands clenched. His face reflected how much the idea tormented him. “I started thinking of possibilities. Matteo could’ve died or ended up in vegetative state or in a wheelchair for the rest of his life. Accidents happen every day— And what if it had been you?” He said, his eyes dancing between hers in fear. “What if something had happened to you and I wouldn’t have been able to be there?” His jaw set. His head shook slightly. “I can’t trust a hypothetical future when I could die tomorrow.”

Nina’s throat tightened. “Don’t say things so horrible, please.”

“It’s true,” he dismissed her pleading, not harshly but with the calmness of someone who has complete certainty of what he’s saying. “That’s why I had to come. For Matteo, and for you. To ask you to give me another chance.”

He seemed to want to hold her hands but didn’t dare to do so. They fell back on the bench, right on the edge of the flounce of her skirt. Nina had no chance to be either disappointed or relieved by that because his eyes held her captive.

“I’m so sorry,” Gastón said, like from the bottom of his heart. “I gave up on us too soon. I was a coward; I see that now. I thought I was doing what was best for us, so we wouldn’t have to suffer from being so far apart. But maybe I was just thinking of myself and what I thought would hurt me less. Maybe I was just too afraid of you finding some other guy… And now, because of that, my greatest fear came true,” he said dejectedly, averting his gaze. “I’ve been told that you have a thing with Eric��”

“No!”

The word was pulled from her lips before she made a conscious decision. She was not surprised to see the surprise in Gastón’s eyes because she was caught off guard too. She began to backtrack rapidly.

“I mean… He’s a very sweet guy,” she said, because not saying it would be unfair. Just the fact that she’d denied him so adamantly made her feel mean. “We see each other every day and we talk. We’re kinda similar, we get along very well. And…” She doubted. She felt awkward telling him all this, but after everything Gastón had said to her, she had to be honest, she couldn’t act like there was nothing there. “…He likes me…”

She decided not to mention the kiss. It’d been a mistake and Eric had apologized. But by Gastón’s face, she might as well have.

He looked down, putting on a solemn mask. “…I understand.”

“No, you can’t understand,” Nina said immediately, and this time she meant the strength with which she spoke. She didn’t know where it came from but suddenly it was burning, and when he met her gaze this time, she looked at him straight on. “You can’t possibly understand because I don’t. Everyone’s telling me that I should give Eric a chance and, honestly, there are many reasons why I should, starting with the fact that he’s here and wants to be with me, but I can’t even think about being with Eric because I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Now it was him that was rendered speechless. His eyes searched hers, a new light in them, and she’d already taken the jump, so she let the words fall whenever they led her.

“You may have gone very far away physically, but you stayed in my heart,” she confessed. The most real, hardest truth she’d ever had to admit. “And with it stayed the sadness, and this horrible feeling that I’m missing something…”

Gastón didn’t doubt this time— He took her hands in his.

“I feel the same,” he said with both relief and desperation. “I’ve been feeling the same way all these weeks, Nina. I miss you like I didn’t even think I could miss someone. I’ve been so angry at myself for letting you go when it was the last thing I wanted.” His right thumb ran over her knuckles and he followed the caress with his eyes. Nina felt it like a spark. “I know I have no right to ask you anything… But I just can’t go back without at least trying to get you back.”

“…But then… we’d be together but apart again?” She said, discouraged by that bleak future. They’d already been through that— Did he really want to go back to it?

“You were the one who said that I was never really gone,” he noted. “As long as we still have each other here…” He brought their joined hands to his chest. “…Isn’t that all that matters?”

She didn’t know if she could feel his heart against her fingers or if it seemed so because she could see it through his eyes. She was too overwhelmed. “Gastón—”

“Say yes, Nina.” He squeezed her hands. “Please.”

She wanted to say yes. She wanted to jump into his arms and hug him tightly. She wanted to believe that love conquered all and they would be okay.

But she had thought that once. She’d believed it with all her heart, all through that summer, only for him to put an end to the story she’d been trying to write.

She couldn’t just forget about all the nights she’d spent crying over him since then. Names in the sea or not, it had been the death of something and she’d mourned it. Her heart was just starting to heal a little and he wanted her to rip all the carefully placed stitches and re-open the wound once more?

What if it just bled out again? What if their love wasn’t enough?

“… I need to think about it.”

Gastón looked disheartened but nodded and let go of her hands, lowering them slowly. “Yeah, of course. I understand.” He tucked his hands inside the pockets of his jacket, like stopping himself from reaching for her once more. “I leave in three days. If you could tell me by then…”

Nina nodded, utterly unsure of how she was even gonna make heads of what she felt to come to an answer, but knowing that it was the least Gastón deserved, and she as well.

She either chose to give themselves another chance… or she closed this chapter forever.

She knew it wouldn’t be easy no matter which she chose.

****************

Luna couldn’t understand what was happening.

She’d gone out for ice cream with Michel just like they’d promised. One second they were goofing around, laughing like always, and then the next, Michel was kissing her.

She froze, her brain scrambling to comprehend the situation. She hadn’t expected a kiss. She hadn’t given any sign for a kiss. He hadn’t just stumbled and fallen into her mouth, right? Nono, he was holding her face, and the way he was pressing against her lips was way too deliberate. Which meant it wasn’t a joke either, and even if it had been, it’d be a terrible one.

Finally, the repulsion she felt broke through the paralysis of confusion and she pulled away from Michel.

“What are you doing?” She asked, shaken up.

Michel was grinning. “I don’t know, I kissed you,” he said with a dreamy expression like something magical had just happened.

Meanwhile, it must have been one of the few times in her life Luna couldn’t see any good in a situation.

“Yeah, I realize that,” she replied, and she really couldn’t help the bite in her voice. “But, why? I mean, I didn’t— I never told you to kiss me!”

Michel’s shoulders deflated and his smile began to fade. “What are you saying? You didn’t like it?”

“Michel, how could I like it?” She honestly couldn’t believe he was even asking right now. Was he that detached from reality? In what world did he think this was okay? “We talked about this, didn’t we? Yesterday.”

“Yes, but,” he showed a tentative smile, “you said we are like birds of a feather and that you like hanging out with me…”

“Yeah, as friends,” she declared, keeping his gaze so he knew she was serious. A grimace wrinkled her face from all this situation. “God, Michel, you misunderstood everything, I thought we’d made things clear.”

Michel’s face finally lost all its light and became covered with remorse. “Luna, I’m sorry. Can we talk about this?”

“Why, I don’t know— Are we gonna talk and then you’ll try to kiss me tomorrow?!”

At seeing him wince in pain and regret, Luna’s outrage decreased somewhat; she didn’t want to be mean.

She closed her eyes, sighing heavily. “Look, Michel, I’m sorry, but this made me very uncomfortable and I need to go.”

She passed by his side and walked away, not looking back once, even when she heard him calling her name.

She wasn’t just shocked, she was hurting. She trusted Michel, she thought they were friends, she thought this outing had been as friends— Had he been just waiting for an opportunity to do this? Couldn’t he have at least leaned in slowly so she could move away instead of grabbing her face like that?

She rubbed her lips with the back of her hand as if that would somehow erase it. She knew it was just a kiss and she was probably exaggerating but… If she said she didn’t want something and then he just did it anyway, that was… that was just wrong.

She speed-walked to her house, wanting nothing more than to forget this happened.

A few meters away, a fresh bouquet of flowers laid discarded on the ground.

**********************

Ámbar felt the fresh air against her face. She closed her eyes for a moment, just taking in the feeling of her racing heart and the energy flowing through her muscles. She really had missed this.

She was standing by the lime green railing of the center of the park, her back and elbows resting on the metal as she took a break to refill her energy. She’d done pirouettes and jumps around this fenced circumference for a little over an hour, earning some appreciative stares from people passing by, which she enjoyed greatly. She loved feeling admired, especially because she loved what she did and knew how hard it’d been to reach this level. She remembered how her love for rollerskating had been born and wondered if any of the people who’d seen her today had left wanting to learn how to do the same. She hoped they tried it— It was a beautiful sport.

Eventually, she’d dropped the techniques and just skated around the park, looking at the scenery, at the sky, just letting her mind wander as the homely feeling of sliding on wheels lulled her accumulated stress away. When had been the last time she’d skated just for the sake of it, no choreographies or competitions in mind? It seemed like a lifetime ago.

A vibration on her jeans pocket made her open her eyes. Her heart jumped with excitement. She pulled out her phone and saw the contact she had been waiting for.

My love💙: All done, you can come back 👍

My love💙: Go directly to your room

Ámbar skated to a nearby bench to take off her helmet and change back into her boots. She wondered what Simón had planned. Maybe he’d cooked her something? She knew he and Pedro used to take care of cooking when they lived in the loft. Nico apparently couldn’t be trusted to make toasts without burning them. She wondered what kind of dishes Simón knew how to make. Maybe he could teach her some and she could make him pancakes. She was sure she could do it with some guidance from Mónica.

The idea made her smile as she made her way back to the mansion. She quickly wiped it off when she realized, showing a neutral face instead. Oh god, she’d just smiled to herself in the middle of the street. Was this what had become of her? Ámbar Smith, smiling in public like a love-struck fool. She blamed Simón.

She welcomed the heating system when she entered the mansion. She hadn’t realized how the early evening air had cooled her until she felt the contrast with indoors. Following Simón’s instruction, she rearranged her stuff in her hands and climbed up the staircase.

The minute she walked into her room, she stopped in her tracks.

“What the…”

Half her room had been invaded by bedsheets. From the foot of her bed to the back was some kind of tunnel made of different blankets, which didn’t reach higher than her waist. Some things from her shelves were on top of the ends of the blankets on each side; she gathered they worked as weights so the blankets didn’t fall off. The back of the tunnel opened into her closet. She could hardly see it— It was completely covered by bedsheets. It was like having a tent in her room.

At the front of the tunnel, she recognized the pink round ottoman she usually kept in her closet. It was standing on its side instead of the usual way, so it blocked the entrance to the archway of fabrics. Just then, she watched it slide to the right, leaned against her bedside. Behind it, crawling to fit under the blankets, appeared Simón, grinning from ear to ear.

“Surprise.”

Ámbar’s mouth was hanging open.

“I… What is all this?” She said with a stupefied smile.

“You said you’d never built blanket forts before, so I decided to make one for you,” he announced cheerily. “Come on in, check it out.” He crawled to the back. “Close in your way in!”

Still dumbfounded, Ámbar left her rollerskates and helmet on the floor next to her vanity. Usually, she’d put them back in their place first thing, but considering her closet was now a fort, that would have to wait.

She kicked off her boots and got on her knees to enter the tunnel. As she went inside, the construction became more evident: The blankets were hanging from her vanity’s chair, one of her sofa chairs and her desk on the left side, and from her bed, her second sofa chair and her pink bench on the right. She turned to put the ottoman back in its place and realized it basically worked as a sliding door. Wow, her boyfriend was so clever.

She crawled to the back, where Simón was waiting for her, sitting crossed-legged. The whole floor was covered in her dark grey carpet, and there were many pillows and blankets placed around. Bedsheet walls —there was no other way to describe it— flowed down at her right, left and in front of her closet’s shelves. Ámbar simply couldn’t believe her eyes.

“I asked Mónica to make us some snacks,” Simón said, still smiling, placing a small tray with food and drinks between them as she sat on his left. “I gathered you’d be hungry from skating. Oh! Wait, I forgot something.” He reached for an extension cord on his right and flicked the switch. Light shone all around them. “There you go.”

Ámbar looked around. Two garland lights had lit up, one on each side of them. She looked up, finding an arrangement of tiny golden lights illuminating the bedsheet ceiling. Were those Christmas lights? Where had he even gotten those?

The more she looked, the more details of his work she noticed. The bedsheet walls existed because he’d attached two parallel strings from the back of the closet to the front to hang them from. He’d taken care of hiding the cables of the lights so they wouldn’t disturb the space. There were at least three bedsheets, and she wasn’t even going to count the number of blankets he’d used in all of this.

She remembered his words that morning in the bathtub. “Don’t you feel like we’re in our own little world like this?”

It did feel like that. Like he had built a world just for her.

“Wow…”

“Do you like it?”

She could feel his eyes on her, but she couldn’t tear her own from the splendor around her.

“It’s… perfect,” she said with some difficulty. Her throat had gotten tight. No one had ever put this much effort into doing something for her.

“I mean…” Simón relativized, looking around with a little grimace. “I did have to tape a lot of things together because they kept falling off…”

“Do not mess with my fort; it’s perfect,” she countered him strongly, trying to hide the tremble in her voice.

Simón chuckled lightly. His eyes stared into hers, and he must have noticed the emotion in them because his expression softened. He didn’t comment on it, just handed her a snack from the tray with a gentle smile. “Let’s eat then.”

They shared the food in comfortable silence until conversation arose naturally. How had her skating gone, how he’d found Christmas lights. It didn’t go any deeper than that.

Once finished, Simón slid the tray outside of the bedsheet wall. “To make sure we don’t knock over anything. I’ll take it back later.”

Ámbar leaned on her hands to move closer to him and kissed him. She needed to do so for a while now. He tasted of the juice he’d just drunk. It stayed on her lips as she pulled away.

“So,” she said curiously, “what do we do now?”

“I’m not sure,” Simón replied, and began to pile some pillows behind them, against the closet’s doors. “Usually when I did this I was with a friend or a cousin.”

Ámbar settled against the pillows as he did the same. “And what did you do with them?”

“We talked about kid stuff, like videogames or cartoons we were watching…”

“Uh huh…”

“Or we imagined that this was our secret base and we were professional spies, and we had to crack some code to get into the bad guys’ files or infiltrate their base to beat them.”

She gave him an appreciative look. “You’re saying I’m dating an ex-CIA agent? That’s hot.”

“Who said I ever retired?” He replied with a flirty brow lift.

Both chuckled. They shared a soft peck and Ámbar snuggled closer to him, circling her arms around his middle and resting her head on his shoulder.

“What about you?” He asked, moving some strands of her hair back. She looked up at him. “What did you play with your friends?”

“We usually invented stories for the barbies.” She dug deep into her memories, bringing back those moments long past that she hadn’t thought of in years. “Like, there was Sofía, Nicole and Camila and they were best friends, and they did everything together, from shopping to saving the world…”

“That sounds very cool.”

“It was, until Camila found out that Nicole had hooked up with her boyfriend.”

His eyes widened. “Nooo.”

“Yes.”

“That bitch.”

“Right? How could she do that to her after she bought her tickets to Milan’s fashion week?”

“The audacity. I hope Camila put her in her place.”

“Hell yeah she did. We cut her hair and everything.”

Both laughed. The things one did as a kid.

“There was this other story,” she continued after a while, “in which the doll was in love with this guy that was about to fly to another country, so she had to run to the airport to catch him before he left to tell him she loved him, but the craziest things happened to her on the way there, making it suuuper difficult.”

“Did she ever catch him?”

Ámbar turned pensive.

“I wanna believe she did,” she responded. “That she told him she loved him, and he loved her too, and they lived happily ever after.” She looked up at Simón.

“Even with the distance?” He asked, caressing her arm softly.

“Well, no one says he could never come back,” she stated. “Or she could’ve gone to him. I’m sure they found a way.”

Simón smiled, looking into her eyes as he tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. “Yeah, I think so too.”

Their gazes stayed locked until the gravity pulled them in. Their mouths met for a long second, fitting perfectly against the other’s. The kiss turned into many— Soft, languid touches of their lips that felt better than even skating.

“Did you do this with your friends too?” She couldn’t help but quip.

Simón let out a laugh. “Definitely not.” And he went back to kissing her.

Ámbar felt light; lighter than she ever remembered being. Safe, calm, warm— Like wrapped in a blanket after having been cold. Simón was like that. Like the first sunny days after winter. Like a warm bath after a long day. Like sitting in front of the hearth after having been drenched in the rain. Little things that made everything better. He was made of them, and he took care of giving her each one.

He didn’t only help her find who she wanted to be, but he also allowed her to be the carefree little girl she never got to be. Simón gave her things she didn’t realize she needed until she lived them.

Ámbar pulled back slowly and looked into his eyes.

“My love?”

“Yes?”

She curled her fingers around his t-shirt, trying to find the words to express everything she felt.

“Really, thank you so much for this. It’s… the nicest thing someone has ever done for me and…” She swallowed. “I love you. So much. So much so that it kind of makes me wanna cry.” She chuckled weakly, a little strangled.

Simón’s eyes danced with hers, deep and soft and yet burning.

He smiled and held one of her hands. “Ámbar Smith… You are my heart. I swear if it beats it’s because of you. Why should you thank me for anything if thanks to you I’m alive?”

Ámbar’s throat got too tight to answer. Her heart was beating hard in her chest, like trying to go to him. All of her, from the tips of her fingers to the soles of her feet, yearned to cling to him.

She pulled his face to hers and joined their lips tightly.

Simón responded like he felt the same, with the same depth and intensity, but she doubted he could love her a third of how much she loved him.

They unclothed each other slowly, kissing reverently each extension of skin they uncovered. Under those sheets and golden lights, Ámbar felt like they were the only thing that existed. The universe started and ended with him— With each touch of his hands, each kiss from his lips.

The fur of the carpet was soft against her back as he slid inside of her. They gasped against each other’s mouths, a shared sound of rightness. Ámbar embraced him with her whole body and breathed in his scent as she followed the gentle rocking.

Simón left kisses on her cheek, her neck, her collarbone. Ámbar dug her fingers into the softness of his hair and she stared at their fort. The lights above looked like stars. Her eyes absorbed each wrinkle, each mix of color, each scotch tape attached to a fabric. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. She would’ve changed all her wealth for having this. For having Simón. Always.

He was pushing deep between her legs, as if he too wanted to live inside her and never leave her side. He panted her name and she held him tighter, feeling how the sensations flooded her and stole her breath.

He touched her where they were joined, looked into her eyes, and then everything exploded, turning Ámbar into stardust.

She was barely corporeal as she felt Simón let go, dissolve in her with his breath against her neck.

A tear fell down her cheek.

Simón saw the wet trail when he straightened and, instantly, his face filled with worry. He opened his mouth and Ámbar could see the questions in his eyes. What happened? Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?

But he didn’t voice any of them. Because he looked into her eyes and he understood. Just like that, he understood. Ámbar loved him even more for it.

Simón gave her a soft smile, with just the slightest speck of sadness, and kissed the salt off her skin. That was what he always did— Accept the fragile and unsure her, not just the laughs and her best moments.

She used to think she had to be perfect to be loved. He showed her that wasn’t needed.

Simón grabbed a blanket to cover them both and brought her to his chest. Ámbar pressed her forehead to his warm skin and closed her eyes.

“I wish we never had to leave this fort,” she said softly. “We could just stay here forever. Freeze time, right on this moment.”

Then she wouldn’t have to worry anymore. She wouldn’t have to keep secrets. She wouldn’t get scared every time she felt happy. They’d never have the chance to break each other’s hearts.

She felt the vibrations on his chest as Simón hummed.

“That would be nice…” He agreed, weakly gracing her shoulder with movements of his thumb. “But I’m more excited about all the new things I can still share with you.”

Her breathing stopped for a second. Ámbar looked up and found Simón smiling at her, that smile that was the sweetest she had ever known and sometimes wondered how her life had been before she saw it. His eyes were shining, full of possibilities.

Ámbar looked at him, and against all odds, she began to laugh.

“What?” Simón asked, but she just shook her head, looking away in disbelief.

How was it that he could brighten everything with just one phrase? One second to the other, just like that? It wasn’t fair. It almost made it seem like everything she’d been worrying about were just silly things. So not fair.

Ámbar sighed, and after a beat, brought her gaze back to him.

“Do you like pancakes?”

Simón frowned, clearly confused by the change of topic. “Yeah, why?”

Ámbar smiled and settled back with her head against his chest.

“No reason.”

…

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

(I had never written Gastina, so apology to the shippers if I didn’t get it right, but I believe it turned out pretty decent.)

Not a lot of plot advancement on this one, but I really wanted to give them, and you, this one sweet moment to hold onto. I've had the draft for this last scene since July 16th of *last year*, just so you get an idea of how long I have to wait to post the things I have in mind.

I really love this chapter, I hope you do too <3

I'll leave some reference pictures here. The first one is a drawing that I made. It was only meant for me to visualize the fort, so I apologize for the mess. If I had planned back then to share it with you guys, I would've made it prettier 😅

#simbar #simbar fic #simbar fanfiction #soy luna fanfiction #My Writing #roads that cross

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