#i’ll shelf these guys and bring the old pairs back out
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sylph8-fr · 19 days ago
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been holding a breeding project for like half a year now. Now i’m thinking. hey. i lost the Bee gene in one of the bloodlines somewhat early on. What if i redo that half. ghhhhhhhh
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en-dazed · 1 year ago
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between pages - lee heeseung
PAIRING: heeseung x reader
GENRES: bookshop au, bookseller!heeseung x reader!reader (lol), fluff, slight angst?
PROMPT: in which reader meets heeseung who works at a bookshop
WORD COUNT: 6,563 words.
A/N: i wrote this within 12 hours and it’s not proofread but i just had to bring it to life. this is my first fic on here and also my first fic in years so be very brutally honest on what you think about it <3
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At the corner of the street, looking slightly out of place beside the pharmacy next door, is a bookshop. Weathered brick walls and ivy vines creeping up the side made anyone who passed by it gaze longingly at the whimsical place. The bell on the door jingles in delight when you push through the door, signalling your entrance into the world of literary wonders. The aroma of old and new books intermingle in the air in a way that fills all your senses and makes you never want to leave the place.
It was on the 3rd day of December you had wandered in there, feeling as if you had been beckoned inside by the bookshop itself. You had been on your way home, tired after a long day. It was the same path you had taken everyday for the past 2 years. It was the same bookshop that you had passed by everyday. And yet, there had been something about it today that had made you look twice - your gaze not moving away on the second glance.
You walked through the rows and rows of wooden shelves filled with books, noting the meticulous way it was organised with all genres having its own place. You didn’t know what you were looking for. You didn’t know if you were even looking for something in particular.
“May I help you?” A soft voice spoke from behind you. You turned around to face the bookseller. For a minute you were at a loss for words. The guy in front of you couldn’t have been much older than you. His warm doe eyes were slightly covered by his dark hair, the bangs falling over his forehead. He wore a smile on his face, soft and inviting. He was breathtaking.
Caught off guard by his presence, you couldn't find the right words at first. He noticed your gaze, and his smile grew wider, making your cheeks flush.
You looked towards the shelves again, pretending to look around as you answered his question. “I’m not quite sure what I’m looking for.” You admitted.
The bookseller nodded understandingly. “Allow me to make a suggestion then.” He traced the spines of a nearby shelf, looking for a specific title. After a brief moment, he carefully plucked down a hardcover book and extended it towards you.
“I don’t know what books you like,” He started as you accepted the book in his hands. “But I hope you like this one. It’s one of my personal favourites.” He smiled radiantly at you.
You looked at the book in your hand, the title somewhat familiar but not quite known to you. Your curiosity was piqued, both by the handsome bookseller and the book he had given you.
“I’ll take it.” You decided without a second thought.
“I’ll ring you up at the front then.”
5 minutes later you walked out the shop with the book tucked under your hand - for which you had paid a ridiculously discounted price for, at the insistence of the cute bookseller. You had walked in with no guidance other than your curiosity and you had walked out with thoughts of the dark haired guy surrounded by books swirling in your head.
You had a feeling you would be coming back here again.
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There was an almost magnetic pull from the book as soon as you had come home that day, urging you to devour the words inside it. And so you did.
You spent 2 days using every waking moment to read, unable to make yourself stop. It was only when you closed your eyes at night that your thoughts shifted. Now, your mind was filled with thoughts about the bookseller. You mentally kicked yourself for not having asked him his name.
He had been spot on with his recommendation. Within an hour of you turning the last page of the book, you showed up at the bookshop slightly out of breath.
“Do they ever find each other again?”
The bookseller looked up from the book he was reading behind the counter, surprised at the sudden intrusion. You stood impatiently, waiting for an answer.
“You finished the book.” He was smiling now, putting down the book after carefully sliding in a bookmark.
You nodded passionately. “I needed to know. Do they ever find each other again? He lost her at the end.”
The guy seemed to ponder the question for just a beat before he answered. “I’ve read the book from front to back more times than I can count but even I don’t know the answer to that.” He admitted begrudgingly. His voice held a touch of hesitation as he continued. “But I like to think they do. I like to think that he finds her between the pages and falls in love with her all over again.”
You listened intently to his response. The way he spoke, with a clear love for the book and genuine affection for the characters lit a spark inside you. There was a flicker of something in his eyes, a glimmer of hope that mirrored your own yearning for a happy ending.
"I like that thought," you whispered, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Falling in love between the pages... It's a beautiful notion."
He returned your smile, a genuine warmth emanating from him. “Books have a way of capturing our hearts don't they?”
A comfortable silence enveloped the both of you, filled with unspoken emotion and understanding. It felt as if the bookshop itself held its breath, watching the connection between the two strangers grow.
Breaking the silence, you mustered the courage to ask the question that had been lingering in your mind since your first encounter. "By the way, I never caught your name."
He chuckled softly, a sound that felt like sunlight if sunlight could be heard. “You’re right, we never introduced ourselves did we? My name is Heeseung.”
“Heeseung” The name rolled off your tongue easily, a sense of relief to be able to put a name to the face that had haunted you for the past 2 days.
“I’m Y/N. Thank you for introducing me to this book.” You said sincerely. “I think it’s become one of my personal favourites as well.”
His eyes gleamed at you, clearly happy his recommendation had been a hit. “You’re very welcome Y/N.”
He made his way out of the counter, moving towards you. “Perhaps I could show you more books that I love?”
“Yes, please.”
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With every book you discovered at the hands of Heeseung, your bond grew stronger. You grew comfortable in his presence, conversations flowing effortlessly and laughter filling the air. The bookshop smelled sweeter to you whenever Heeseung smiled and Heeseung could’ve sworn the shop lit up whenever you entered.
Amidst the bookshelves and the scent of inked pages, a new story had begun - one of you and Heeseung. It was a tale written not on pages but etched in stolen glances and lingering touch of hands reaching for the same book. The bookshop became a haven for you, a place where two souls intertwined.
Heeseung was a university student just like you. A Literature major, he had confirmed with a laugh. You couldn’t imagine him being anything else. You learned that the bookshop was owned by his parents.
“I grew up between these shelves.” He had told you one day, talking softly as if he was telling you a secret. “I don’t think I remember anything else other than books and the way it felt to discover new worlds.”
You felt your heart gravitate towards him a little bit more with every new piece of information.
You discovered that when Heeseung was 12, he had pretended that the back door was the entrance to Narnia. He would tell you stories about how he would walk back there alone, opening the door and always hoping that one day there would be a whole nother world on the other side of it. The thought of a young Heeseung with bambi eyes filled with hope made you smile.
Heeseung couldn’t understand why he felt such a pull towards you. Your visits to the shop had long changed from just a quest for new books to just visits for him. You found solace in his company as he did in you.
On one such evening, you sat besides him at the counter. You held a book on your hand, except it wasn’t a book that belonged to the store or to Heeseung. A frustrated sigh escaped you as you scratched out the words you had previously written on the book. Heeseung watched sympathetically.
This had become routine. You would come to the shop with your assignments, claiming that the peace and quiet inside helped you work with a clearer mind. Secretly, you also wanted to spend more time with Heeseung, even if you had other things to do.
Heeseung loved to watch you work. He had observed you unknowingly for so long he could tell all your frustrated little quirks, the way you would sit up straight when you solve a problem and even the way you would tap the pen against the edge of the book as you thought things through.
Your hair slipped past your ear onto your face and without a second thought, Heeseung grabbed the strand and pulled it behind your ear once more as if it was so natural to touch you. He only realised what he had done when he felt you freeze under his touch.
Immediately, he pulled his hand back. “Sorry.” The word rushed out, his hands suddenly warming up from the memory of your touch.
You looked up and he could see that your cheeks were red as well. “It’s okay.” You mumbled. You looked away, unable to make eye contact with him without feeling like you were going to burst into flames.
There was a moment of silence before your words slipped out, so quiet he could barely hear it, so quiet he wasn’t even sure if he was meant to hear it.
“I liked it.”
Heeseung smiled.
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On Saturday’s Heeseung was off. You had found out when you had dropped by unannounced and was met with an unfamiliar blonde haired boy at the counter instead of the familiar face you were used to.
“May I help you?” The boy had asked politely, reminiscent of the way Heeseung had uttered the same words to her the first time they had met.
“Is Heeseung here?” You asked, slightly nervous. Had something happened to him?
“Heeseung is off from work every Saturday. I’m the one here when he’s not.” The boy looked at you curiously as if studying you. “How do you know him?” He asked, inquisitively.
“Im his…,” You trailed off not knowing what to label yourself. You had long passed the relationship of a mere customer or stranger. You couldn’t call yourself acquaintances, you knew him much more intimately than that. You had never even exchanged numbers.
“I’m a friend.” The unsure tone of your voice made the boy look at you suspiciously.
“I’m Jake.” He introduced himself. “I’ll let Heeseung know you were here if you give me your name.”
You shook your head aggressively. “No, it’s okay. I’ll just come back later.”
Before the boy could respond you walked out of the store, disappointment settling in your stomach.
The next time you ran into Jake was when he had walked in while you and Heeseung were laughing together between the shelves. Heeseung had been standing close to you, his head so close that you could smell the scent of his shampoo.
“A friend huh?” Jake’s voice had shocked the both of you, jumping away from each other as if you had been caught doing something you shouldn’t. Jake had laughed at the way you both reacted, running away as Heeseung chased him around the store - a poor attempt at hiding how flustered he was.
Jake slowly wiggled his way into your days together, the duo turning into a group of 3. He went to university with Heeseung, he had explained to you. “Although I'm into more non-fiction books unlike him.” He laughed.
As a Physics major, he was deceivingly smart. He had a knack for explaining complex concepts in a way that made them easy to understand, often engaging Heeseung and you in conversations about theories about the origins of the universe, the nature of black holes, and the possibilities of time travel. His enthusiasm was infectious, and you found yourself captivated by his explanations. Heeseung - ever the attentive friend - soaked up the information like a sponge. He asked insightful questions, allowing Jake to delve more into the topic excitedly. You knew that he did it because it made Jake happy and the thoughtfulness of his actions made your heart flutter.
With Jake, you found more sides of Heeseung that you hadn’t seen before. He was slightly louder, less reserved and rougher with Jake than he ever was with you.
Slowly, you began to show up on Saturdays as well. You found yourself growing closer to Jake, developing a genuine friendship beyond your connection through Heeseung. He became someone you could confide in, someone to vent to when you were having a bad day. It wasn’t long before Jake figured out your very thinly veiled crush on Heeseung.
“Just tell him already.” He groaned at you, watching as your eyes followed Heeseung as he restocked the shelves.
You let out a sigh, the fear of rejection hanging heavy over you. “I don’t know Jake. What if it ruins our friendship?”
Jake couldn’t believe how stupid you could be. “If you don’t see the way he looks at you then you’re really blind.”
You didn’t want to believe him. You didn’t want to get your hopes up. But when Heeseung caught you eye across the room and gave you a smile, you couldn’t help the hope that blossomed in you.
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When you imagined Heeseung, it was always at the bookshop. You couldn’t imagine his existence outside of those four walls. So when Heeseung asked you out to go to a movie, it took you by surprise.
“You know there’s a movie adaptation of the first book I recommended to you.” He had started, nervously running his hands through his hair. “We should go see it.” He looked at you, a hint of vulnerability in his eyes. “Together.”
You felt like your heart had dropped to your stomach. The book in your hands slipped, falling to the ground as your hands became shaky from nervousness. Heeseung leaned down to pick it up, the same time as your hand reached to grab it as well. For a split second, your hands brushed his. Quickly, you let go, letting him pick up the book.
Wiping your suddenly sweaty hands on your skirt, you nodded yes at him. “I’d love to.” You spoke, hoping your voice wouldn’t shake.
And just like that, his eyes seemed to shine - as if the stars inside couldn’t help but celebrate his small victory.
On the day of the movie ‘date’ (you weren’t quite sure what to call it exactly, although Jake was very insistent on calling it a date), you spent the whole day texting Jake in panic.
Y/N: WHAT DO I WEAR?????
Ikeu: i guarantee you he will drop down to his knees as soon as he sees you no matter what you wear
ikeu: stop panicking this isn’t the first time you’ve seen him
You knew he was right. Heeseung wasn’t the type to care what you wore, he never had been. But you made a special effort to dress nicely, smoothing down the wrinkles on your shirt as you finished getting ready.
By the time Heeseung had texted you that he was outside you were ready on the outside but felt like a pile of goo on the inside. Butterflies dancing in your stomach, you walked out the door of your house and towards Heeseung who stood next to his car outside.
Heeseung looked the same as he always did, except his dark hair was now pushed back revealing his forehead. His eyes lit up at the sight of you, widening slightly as he took in your appearance.
“You look beautiful.” He whispered.
You felt shy under his gaze, as if you were once again a teenager out on your first date with the boy you liked. But this was Heeseung and soon after you got in the car, you relaxed.
You had thought that things would be different without the inked pages surrounding you but you were quick to realise that it wasn’t the bookshop that made Heeseung special - it was him that made the bookshop shine.
Heeseung made you wait in the car after he had parked, running around quickly and opening the door for you. “I can’t let a pretty girl open the door on her own.” He said flirtingly.
You rolled your eyes at him jokingly, trying to disguise how much he was affecting you. The movie theatre was half full when you walked in, the movie almost about to start. Heeseung glanced at you as the lights dimmed, his eyes filled with excitement and anticipation.
The movie soon started, the familiar story you had read before unfolding before you. The characters were just as you had imagined them to be. You sneaked a peek at Heeseung who seemed to be just as entranced by the movie as you were.
As the ending of the movie grew closer, you realised that the story was going in a different path.
“They didn’t lose each other.” Heeseung whispered in astonishment as the movie neared its end, with the main characters still together. The alteration from the original story had caught both of you off guard, but instead of disappointment, there was a sense of intrigue in the air.
“That was unexpected," you commented, breaking the silence as the credits rolled on the screen.
Heeseung chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling. "Yeah, it definitely took a different turn. But you know what? I kind of like it," he confessed, his voice filled with enthusiasm. “It’s nice to see a happy ending.”
A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you nodded in agreement.
“I think you were right.” You said, as you both walked out the movie theatre together.
Heeseung looked at you, a look of confusion on his face. “About what?”
“I think they did find each other between the pages. And they fell in love again as they had before. I think they would’ve fallen in love with each other even if they had met in a 100 different lifetimes.”
When you stopped talking, you noticed that Heeseung had fallen behind. He had stopped just a few steps behind you with a strange look on his face.
"Heeseung?" you called out, concern lacing your voice.
Heeseung blinked a few times, as if trying to gather his thoughts. Finally, he let out a deep sigh and ran a hand through his hair, a gesture you had come to associate with his moments of uncertainty.
“Y/N I -“ He began, his voice tinged with anxiousness.
You waited with bated breath, unsure what he was about to say.
“Can I hold your hand?” He blurted out suddenly.
Startled by his sudden request, you blinked a few times, momentarily taken aback. You could feel your heartbeat quicken, and a mixture of emotions swirled within you—excitement, nervousness, and a tinge of vulnerability.
The reality of the situation sank in. This wasn't just a casual outing between friends anymore. There was an unspoken shift in the dynamics, a hint of something more. Your mind raced, trying to process the significance of his request.
You smiled softly, holding out your hand in response. Without a word, without any hesitation - Heeseung took your hand in his. Fingers intertwined, he stepped closer to you, eyes on your hands. It was a comforting touch, a warmth that spread from the tips of your fingers to your whole body.
Heeseung was looking at you now, a fierce look in his eyes. You felt like fleeing at the intensity of his gaze but you held your ground, not moving your eyes away from him.
“Can I kiss you?” His voice was even softer than before, barely a whisper.
His question hung in the air for a breath too long, as if even the wind had stopped to listen for your answer. Your mind could no longer comprehend what was happening, having short circuited minutes ago. It was your heart that led you when you nodded, wordlessly accepting his request.
Heeseung moved without hesitation, as if he had been waiting for this for so long that he just couldn’t wait any longer. The world around you seemed to blur as Heeseung leaned in, his gaze locked with yours. A surge of electricity rushed through your body when his lips met yours, soft and tender. It felt like a culmination of all the unspoken words, stolen glances, and shared experiences that had brought you to this point.
He kissed you longingly and sincerely. He kissed you and you forgot that there was ever anything besides the feeling of kissing him because how could there be any feeling as good as this?
When he finally pulled away there was a change in him. His smile was certain, confident. Even as you wordlessly walked back to his car, he didn't let go of your hand. He dropped it for just a second when you got in but as soon as you were seated in the passenger seat next to him, he took your hand in his.
Friends had shifted to something more.
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You quickly grew accustomed to the way Heeseung’s lips felt on yours and the way your hands intertwined. The following weeks were filled with stolen kisses behind books and lovesick looks exchanged across the room.
It was impossible to hide from Jake, not that either of you tried.
“You know I can see you two kissing behind the shelves!” He yelled, making the both of you jump in surprise. You both turned various shades of pink at getting caught.
Jake stood there, a mischievous grin plastered across his face, clearly enjoying the sight of your embarrassment.
“I know you’ve been dying to get together but someone’s got to make sure you’re not causing a scandal in the bookshop.” Jake teased.
With a sigh, you turned to Heeseung, still feeling the warmth of his touch. "Isn’t he supposed to be off today?” You asked, with fake annoyance.
Jake feigned offense, placing a hand over his heart dramatically. "Hey, I resent that! I'm just looking out for the literary integrity of this place."
You couldn't help but laugh at Jake's theatrical response. Despite his teasing, you knew he genuinely cared about both of you and wanted to see you happy. It was his way of expressing his support, even if it involved some playful ribbing.
Heeseung chuckled, his arm still wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him. "Well, Jake, I appreciate your concern, but I think we've got this under control."
Jake raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. "Oh, really? Well, I'll be the judge of that."
Before you could respond, he playfully pointed towards a nearby bookshelf. "Kiss cam! Show me you're in control."
You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at the corners of your lips. You glanced at Heeseung, who wore a mischievous grin matching Jake's. With a twinkle in your eyes, you leaned in and shared a quick, playful kiss.
"Happy now, Jake?" you asked, suppressing a giggle.
Jake pretended to wipe away tears dramatically. "You've made me a proud matchmaker. Carry on, lovebirds!"
And Heeseung did, sneaking another kiss in before he continued his original job of stocking the shelves.
When you joined Jake at the counter, his gaze became serious. “I know I fool around a lot. But I really am happy for you.”
“I know.” You replied.
“I’ve known him for years now and I dont think I’ve ever seen him so happy before.”
A warm feeling spread through your chest as you listened to Jake's heartfelt words. It was a reminder of just how special your connection with Heeseung was, not only to you but also to those who cared about you both.
"I feel the same way," you confessed, a soft smile gracing your lips. "Heeseung has brought so much happiness into my life too. I'm grateful every day that our paths crossed in this little bookshop."
“Well let’s hope your story has a happily ever after.” Jake said and you laughed, completely unaware of what was to come.
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The beginning of the end came on a cold May day. You had been to the bookshop almost everyday since December. Everyday, the door had swung open to invite you in. This time, however, the door remained shut. A sign hung from a nook on the door told you it was closed.
Worried, you dialed Heeseung quickly. Was he sick? But if he was wouldn’t Jake cover for him? Was something wrong?
Heeseung picked up on the fourth ring.
"Hey," Heeseung’s voice came through, but it lacked its usual cheerfulness. "I'm guessing you saw the sign."
“Yeah,” you replied, your voice heavy with concern. “Are you alright? Did something happen?”
There was a moment of silence before he answered. “I’m alright. The store… not so much.” He admitted.
Your heart sank further at Heeseung's somber tone. The weight of the situation settled heavily upon you, leaving you eager to understand what had transpired.
"What happened, Heeseung?" you asked, your voice filled with genuine worry.
Heeseung took a deep breath, his voice holding a mix of disappointment and resignation. “It's a complicated situation. My parents have been struggling to keep the business afloat for a while now. The rising costs, declining foot traffic, and the emergence of online retail... it all took its toll. It's been a tough decision, but we had to close the doors."
The news hit you like a wave, leaving you momentarily speechless. The bookshop had been a sanctuary for both of you as well as Jake. It felt like losing a part of your history, a place that held countless memories and moments that would forever be etched in your hearts.
“Well… what happens now?” You whispered, your voice trembling.
“Princess.” His voice had grown quiet and the realization that he had even worse news hit you like a brick.
“What’s going to happen to you, Heeseung?” You were almost too scared to ask.
“Princess, I- we-,” He sighed in frustration on the other end of the line.
“We’re moving. To the countryside.”
The words left you stunned and unsure of how to respond. Moving to the countryside meant leaving behind the life he had in the city, the familiar streets, and the comfort of his routines. It meant uprooting everything and starting anew in an unfamiliar environment.
"But... what about everything here?" you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. "Your friends, your university..."
"I know, Princess," Heeseung replied, his voice filled with regret. "It's a difficult decision, but my parents have made up their minds. And I've already applied for a transfer to the university there. It was accepted today.”
You felt a knot forming in your stomach as you tried to comprehend the magnitude of the changes that lay ahead.
"What about us?" you asked, your voice trembling. "What does this mean for our relationship?"
There was a brief silence on the other end of the line before Heeseung responded, his voice filled with tenderness. "Princess, I love you more than anything. I can't imagine my life without you. This move doesn't change that. We'll find a way to make it work, no matter where we are."
Tears welled up in your eyes as his words washed over you, offering a glimmer of hope amidst the uncertainty. It was true, love had a way of transcending physical distance and overcoming obstacles. If you both were committed to making it work, perhaps the countryside could become a new canvas for your relationship to flourish.
It was only when he had hung up the call that you realised it was the first time he had told you he loved you.
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Jake was just as depressed at the news as you were. Gone was his cheery persona, replaced by one of a moping puppy. Not that you could judge, you weren’t much better after all.
“Heeseung will leave tomorrow night.” Jake’s words cut through the sombre air like a knife.
You hummed in response. If you opened your mouth you were sure tears would start flowing.
Heeseung's impending departure felt like another blow, a painful reminder of the changes that were unfolding in your lives.
You remained silent for what felt like hours before you whispered. “Jake?”
He looked at you in response.
“I’m going to miss him.” The tears that had been threatening to overflow finally did, and you cried and cried into Jake’s shoulder.
His arm wrapped around you comfortingly, rubbing circles on your shoulder. “I’ll miss him too.” He whispered just as sadly.
The following evening arrived, casting a melancholic haze over the room. The minutes seemed to slip away far too quickly, leaving you feeling as though time itself was playing a cruel trick on your emotions.
As the hour approached, you found yourself standing outside the bookstore, the place that had once been a safe haven for you, now closed and devoid of life. The emptiness mirrored the ache in your heart as you awaited Heeseung's departure.
Jake stood by your side, a solemn expression etched across his face. He offered you a gentle squeeze of the hand, his silent support speaking volumes.
Minutes later, the sound of a car engine broke the silence, signaling Heeseung's arrival. Your heart skipped a beat as he stepped out of the vehicle, his familiar smile now tinged with sadness.
You rushed to his side, unable to contain the tears that welled up in your eyes. Heeseung's arms enveloped you in a warm embrace, and you clung to him as if trying to hold onto the moments you had shared.
"I'm going to miss you," you managed to whisper through your tears, your voice choked with emotion.
Heeseung held you tighter, his voice filled with a mixture of sadness and reassurance. "I'm going to miss you too, more than words can express. But this isn't the end, princess. We'll find our way back to each other."
The three of you stood in a tight circle, a knot of intertwined emotions. As Heeseung pulled away, his gaze shifted between you and Jake, gratitude shining in his eyes.
"Thank you for being there for me," he said, his voice sincere and heartfelt. "I couldn't have asked for a better friend."
You took a step back, allowing Heeseung to say his goodbyes to Jake. The two shared a heartfelt embrace, their unspoken bond woven tightly between them. As they parted, you couldn't help but feel a deep sense of loss, knowing that the dynamics of your trio were forever altered.
Heeseung turned to you, his eyes filled with a mixture of love and determination. "Take care of yourself," he whispered, his words lingering in the air like a promise.
You nodded, your voice barely above a whisper. "I will. You take care too."
With one last lingering look, Heeseung climbed into the car, the engine humming to life. As the vehicle pulled away, taking a piece of your heart with it, you stood there, feeling the weight of his absence settle upon your shoulders.
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You saw Heeseung in between the pages of books, his essence infused in the words that transported you to different worlds. Reading became your refuge, your escape from the ache of his absence. It was as if the characters and narratives were a bridge between you, keeping your connection alive despite the physical distance.
Every night, when the world grew quiet, the phone would ring, and his voice would fill the room. Those conversations were precious lifelines that provided a temporary respite from the longing in your heart. His words, filled with love and tenderness, wrapped around you like a warm embrace, soothing the ache of his absence.
And when the morning light spilled through the curtains, you would awaken to his text, a simple "good morning" that carried more weight than any words could express. It was a reminder that you were still connected, that he was thinking of you even when he was miles away from you.
“It’s so quiet here.” Heeseung’s voice said over the phone. “I’m still not quite used to it.”
You listened intently, hanging onto every word he said.
“Do you miss it here?” You asked.
His voice was sad when he replied. “I miss everything there but mostly I miss you.”
Your heart ached to see him.
“I miss you too.” You whispered.
He called every night without fail.
“Princess,” He would say and your heart would flutter at the pet name.
“I think you’ll like it here. It’s so peaceful to read beneath the stars.” He said with a smile hanging to his words.
“Would you live there forever?” You asked him, half teasing, half anxiously.
“I’d live anywhere if it was with you.”
And your heart would catapult across your chest.
Weeks would turn into months.
“I wish the bookshop didn’t have to close.” You told him, on another particularly vulnerable night.
“We can always open a new one.” He replied.
“Together?” His response had lifted your mood. Heeseung always had an uncanny way of knowing exactly what to say.
Heeseung's laughter resonated through the phone, a sound that brought warmth to your heart. "Yes, together. We'll fill the shelves with our favourite books, create a space where people can find solace and inspiration. It'll be our own little sanctuary."
Your heart swelled with love for Heeseung, his dreams intertwining with yours, creating a vision that felt so real, so attainable. The miles between you seemed insignificant in that moment as you both shared a dream that bound you together.
December slowly approached, marking an year since you had first encountered Heeseung.
The 3rd of December this year was cold. Or perhaps it felt colder to you, with the thought that Heeseung wouldn’t be by your side.
As you stood in front of the familiar bookshop, now closed and silent, you couldn't help but feel a sense of longing. You had initially wandered in, unsure of what you were even looking for. You had left with so much more than you could even dream of. The chilly wind brushed against your face, mingling with the scent of fallen leaves, creating a melancholic atmosphere.
You closed your eyes, picturing Heeseung's warm smile, his comforting presence that had filled the bookstore with life.
“Princess?”
You must be dreaming. You turned around, your heart skipping a beat as you saw Heeseung standing before you, his eyes filled with love and determination. His hair had grown longer but it was still Heeseung, your Heeseung.
“I couldn't let this day pass without being by your side," he said, his voice filled with a mixture of apology and devotion. "I had to come back to you, even if it's just for this day."
Tears of joy streamed down your face as you rushed into his arms, holding him tightly as if afraid he would disappear once again. The world around you faded into insignificance as you embraced, the warmth of his presence banishing the coldness that had gripped your heart.
"I missed you," you whispered into his ear, your voice filled with an overwhelming mixture of relief and love.
"I missed you too, Princess," he replied, his voice choked with emotion. "Being away from you made me realise that you are my home, no matter where we are."
His words made your heart swell with emotion, holding onto him tightly. He smelled just like you remembered - of books and ink.
“I have a surprise for you.” He said gingerly, holding your chin in his fingers to look into your eyes.
“Bigger than this?” You laughed in between sobs.
“Much bigger.” He smirked. “I talked to my parents. It took a whole lot of convincing and a lot of time spent with Jake researching on how we can bring in more money this time but-“
He allowed you to piece together his words before he continued.
“We’re reopening the bookshop. And this time I - no, we will be handling it.”
Your eyes widened, your heart leaping with a mixture of astonishment and delight.
“You mean... we can open a new bookstore together?" you asked, your voice barely containing your excitement.
Heeseung nodded, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Yes, together. We can bring our dreams to life, Princess. Just like we talked about.”
Tears welled up in your eyes once again, but this time they were tears of pure joy. The weight of the past few month’s longing and uncertainty lifted from your shoulders, replaced by a surge of hope and anticipation for the future.
"I can't think of anything more perfect," you whispered, your voice filled with gratitude and love.
Heeseung pulled you into another embrace, his warmth enveloping you completely.
“I told you Princess. I’d live anywhere if it was with you.”
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Nestled on the corner of the street was a bookshop. Its brick exterior exuded a timeless charm, and the large windows invited passersby to peek inside and discover the treasures held within its walls. The sign above the entrance bore the name "Whispering Pages," a fitting title for a place where stories whispered and imaginations soared.
You and Heeseung stood behind the counter, side by side, ready to greet each customer with a warm smile and a genuine love for the written word.
Together, you and Heeseung - with the help of Jake of course - had painstakingly transformed the empty space into a sanctuary for book lovers. The shelves were lined with an eclectic mix of genres, ranging from classic literature to contemporary fiction, from fantasy realms to historical accounts. Each book held a story, waiting to be discovered and shared.
And as the bookshop's door chimed with the arrival of new customers, you took a moment to appreciate the beauty of the ordinary. The soft whisper of turning pages, the gentle rustle of paper, and the quiet yet profound love that bound you together. In this bookshop, where stories came to life, you had found your own love story—a tale woven with laughter, stolen glances and kisses between pages.
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youvebeenlivingfictional · 1 year ago
Text
Year One (II)
Part Five of Three Years
Year Three | Masterlist |
Pairing: Nathan Bateman x Reader
Rating: Explicit - 18+ Only.
Length: 8.5K
Notes: ….Hi! It’s the final part!! And only a week late!!! Thank you for reading 💖
Warnings: Cursing; angst; enemies to enemies who fuck to lovers; tech-talk; angst (I know I said it before but really); Nathan being Nathan; vaginal sex; fingering; creampie; choking; oral sex (male and female receiving)
Summary: Keeping Bateman off your mind isn’t so difficult, once you get down to it. Sure, there’s a little a bit of a lull. At the start, hearing him on the odd conference call throws you off for a few moments. In the midst of taking notes, your mind will flash to the sound of him grunting low in your ear, the memory of the press of his body against yours, and the phantom weight of his hand heavy on your throat.
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BlueBook’s campus is stunningly large and confusing. Sc(ai)le is a far smaller operation, and is likely to remain so, and you’d been certain when you signed the contract that this vast new environment would be well out of your realm of familiarity. But receiving a map for the BlueBook campus along with your other documentation for orientation made your stomach churn. The differences are staggering. BlueBook’s Silicon Valley office has four separate buildings. 3/4ths of the parking lot is designed for electric vehicles; regular vehicles have parking furthest from the main building. There are multiple cafeterias and cafés on the premises. There are designated nap rooms. 
Maybe it’s an archaic approach, but you go out of your way to print out the map that was sent to you ahead of your first day. When you pull up for work your first morning, you are insanely happy that you did. You stop in the lobby once you get your badge, eyeing the print-out as people simply stride past you like you aren’t even there. You’re almost alright with that. You don't really want to explain who you are to some random BlueBook employee as you ask for help. But this behavior also lays the company’s culture plain. If you were at Sc(ai)le, at least one person would stop and ask if you needed help. Here, moving into a junior leadership position, you’re completely invisible. 
--  
“Sooo, how are the new digs?” 
“...They’re fine,” You fib to Jenn, looking around at the office. It’s not a complete lie; they’re not bad. Your name is on the door; the size is about the same as your old office. But where your office at Sc(ai)le had been bright and open, this feels…Closed in. It doesn’t have the same fishtank quality, and where your old office had initially left you feeling exposed, this office makes you feel like you’re sitting in a file box on a shelf somewhere. There’s a window behind you, but it faces another building, and doesn’t let in nearly the same amount of light as your previous office.  
“Uh-oh.” 
“Uh-oh?” You frown, “What ‘uh-oh’?” 
“I know that tone. What’s wrong with it?” 
“Nothing’s wrong with it!” 
“You sure? I don’t wanna brag, but I know the guy in charge, and I can put in a good word.” 
“Oh, yeah,” You scoff a laugh, “Bring my problem to Bateman for me, that’s all I need.” 
Jenn goes quiet for a few seconds before she hedges, “I thought you guys were better now.” 
You raise your hand, scrubbing it across the back of your neck as you fight back a sigh. 
“We are,” You insist, “I just mean, you know…Even if Bateman did like me, this would so put me on his shit list. And I need to watch my step around here. It’s different now.” 
“Yeah,” Jenn agrees, “It is.” 
You can hear the creaking of her office chair, and practically picture her twisting back and forth in it. 
“Can we do dinner at the end of this week?” You ask, hoping that she won’t call you on the subject change. “I want all of the dirt, you know. Hear how it’s going with my fearless leadership.”
“Sure.” It’s a relief as her tone shifts, as you can practically hear her smile. “Friday? Saturday? Sunday?” 
“Friday, please. I’m guessing I’ll need all weekend to recover.” 
“You’re damn right,” She chuckles. “Friday it is.” 
“I’ll text you some options before I make any reservations.” 
“Sounds good.” 
“Alright. Have a good day, Jenn.”
“You, too, girlie.” 
You smile, lowering your phone and hanging up. You’re about to set it on the desk when your phone flashes with another call. You grimace at the sight of the contact, despite the way that your stomach flutters. You consider not answering it at all—and then swipe to answer it right before it can go to voicemail. 
“Took you long enough.” Nathan doesn’t give you a chance to say a thing before he’s filling your ear. “Who were you talking to?” 
“Excuse me?” 
“I got a busy signal twice.” 
“That’s none of your business.” 
“I wanna know.” 
“Well that’s too damn bad.” 
“I could take a guess.” 
“Feel free.” 
“...” 
“Well?” 
“I’ve decided I don’t care.” 
“Do you have a reason for calling me?” 
“Figured I’d check in, day one and all that.” 
“Nothing to report so far.” 
“Really.” 
“Nope. Had two whole meetings and got my email set up.” 
“Well look at you, you little overachiever. Usually people don’t get their email set up until their second day.” 
“You know me, I like to hit the ground running.” 
“Mhm. Listen, I’m gonna be in town this weekend—” 
“Okay—” 
“—So I’ll put something on your calendar.” 
“For what reason?” 
“To check-in.” 
“I think check-ins like this are just fine.” 
“I may as well see you while I’m in town.” 
“What for?” 
“It’s customary to take a new hire in leadership for dinner.” A pause. Then, “Why else would I want to see you?” 
You lean back in your seat, fighting the urge to squeeze your thighs together. The way he leads you into this question shouldn’t send tingles through your body. You’d forgone Bateman’s invitation to visit him before your stint at BlueBook had started, and haven’t been with him—or anyone—in a few weeks. Still, you’ve had longer dry spells. 
“I don’t know,” You pass off breezily. “You tell me.” 
“I don’t miss you,” He laughs. You think that he may mean for it to sound cruel, but you’ve come to know him a little too well, and he shockingly just manages to miss that mark. 
“Good,” You lean back in your seat a little more. “I don’t miss you, either.”
“Good.” 
“And I’m afraid I have plans this weekend, so unless you’re planning on adding some kind of bonus or overtime on this, I won’t be joining you.” 
A weighty pause, a truly stomach-churning beat before, “Fine.” 
He practically yawns it. 
“Great,” You pronounce crisply. “I have a meeting to get to, so—” 
“That’s funny, so do I—” 
“I’m gonna hop off—”
“—Happy to give you some time back.” 
“Great.” 
“Sure.” 
You draw the phone back from your ear again, rolling your eyes as his contact flashes, then disappears. Happy to give you some time back—the audacity. As if he'd put an actual meeting on your calendar for that useless call. You lean a little further back in your chair, then flail and hurriedly straighten before it can fully tip backward. Yikes, that was close. You puff out a panicked breath as you settle, tossing your phone onto the desk. 
He doesn’t miss you. Good! That’s good. You don’t miss him either. You don’t want him to miss you. You don’t need him to miss you. 
You need…To charge your vibrator. You could get on the dating apps again. It’s been a while. The last time you bothered was before you joined Sc(ai)le. Maybe the dating landscape isn’t as bad as it used to be.
You wince, shifting in your seat. You already know that you’re kidding yourself. There’s no way the apps are a good option now. They were barely a good option then. You’ll just have to up your vibrator game. There’s one you’ve had your eye on for a while, anyway. Nothing better to get with your signing bonus.
--  
Keeping Bateman off your mind isn’t so difficult, once you get down to it. Sure, there’s a little a bit of a lull. At the start, hearing him on the odd conference call throws you off for a few moments. In the midst of taking notes, your mind will flash to the sound of him grunting low in your ear, the memory of the press of his body against yours, and the phantom weight of his hand heavy on your throat. The first few times, you swallow thickly and reach for your coffee, or water, washing down the thought. Slowly, though, you manage to put a wall up. The Bateman on the phone isn’t the same guy that had fucked you, or the same guy that you slapped. 
Okay, well, technically, he is. 
But this is Business Bateman. This guy is no longer at least one level removed from your day-to-day. You’d been fucked by Bastard Bateman—Banker Bateman, even. This Bateman isn’t teasing any of you over the phone during team meetings. There aren’t hefty pauses for effect, or to bait you into answering him first. He’s to-the-point. He doesn't wait for answers; he demands them. 
After a couple of months, you manage to convince yourself that you prefer it this way. You tell yourself that you don’t miss Nathan. You don’t miss his cock, his teasing, or smacking his smug fucking face. It really is better this way. Your life is almost back to normal. Your friendship with Jenn is on a positive trend. You manage to see her at least every other week, and your smiles at the mention of Nathan’s name gradually become less forced. 
The shift is critical. Despite your relative proximity, you feel far less tense on a day to day basis. Sure, there’s an itch that just isn’t being scratched for you right now—but you’re not bracing for whatever shit Bateman may pull next, or operating with a fear that Jenn may learn just how much time you actually spend with Nathan. It still weighs on you, though. There are moments when you feel the heavy truth of it on your tongue, and you consider telling her—but the conversation otherwise feels so bright, and so easy, and you can’t bring yourself to shatter the moment. 
You’re certain Nathan hasn’t told her, either—if he had, you’d know by now. Jenn doesn’t shield her feelings well from anyone, but especially not from you. You know that her crush is still affecting her in full-force, but as far as you know, she hasn’t acted on it. The conversations about Bateman becoming part of the board would’ve backed off by now if she had. If anything, those have increased. 
Worse, from what she’s been telling you, you think that he may be considering it. You’re in no place to influence business on either end anymore. You don’t want to buzz in Jenn’s ear, insist that she take more time to think about this. She’s been thinking about this move for three years now. You don’t want buzz in Nathan’s ear about it, either. Whatever you tell him to do, you’re certain he’ll do the exact opposite to spite you. The only thing worse than impacting Jenn’s company negatively from the inside is managing to negatively impact it after you’ve left. Sc(ai)le’s direction is none of your business anymore. You need to make peace with that. 
--  
“Knock knock.” 
You can’t help but look up, stunned. You haven’t heard his voice over anything but a phone for nearly six months. That’s sort of your fault—he did offer to take you to dinner. But you didn’t trust him then. You almost don’t trust his appearance now. Frankly, seeing him shouldn’t be such surprise. You work at his company, after all. But this little sneak-attack is something that you haven’t been treated to in a very long time. 
“Hi there,” He adds, and you realize that you’ve done nothing but stare at him. 
“Hi,” You manage. “You here for a talk or are you just stopping by?” 
“Just stopping by.” He pushes himself off of the door frame, and you turn back to your laptop as he takes lazy, drifting steps around your office. You watch him out of the corner of your eye, taking in the snug fit of his polo shirt, and the swell of his ass beneath his—sweatpants. The man wore sweatpants to his own office. You can’t help but shake your head a little as you come to that realization, turning fully back to your screen. 
“You here for the All Hands?” You ask. 
“Yup.” 
“Surprised you’re not zooming in as usual.”
“I happened to be in town, figured I may as well make an appearance.”
“In sweatpants?” The indignant shock slips out before you can stop it. He just snorts, amused. 
“I have a change of clothes in my office.” 
Of course he does. 
“So,” He rounds your desk, leaning against it and watching you work, “How do you like it?” 
“The work? It’s fine.” 
“Better or worse than Sc(ai)le?” 
“Not better or worse. Just different.” 
He watches you for a few moments longer. “But BlueBook is better, right?” 
You roll your eyes a little bit, biting back a smile. 
“If it helps you sleep at night, Nathan, yes. BlueBook is better.” 
“I knew it.” 
“Uh-huh.” 
“I’m telling Jenn.” 
“She’ll never believe you.” 
“...Do you still have that policy?” 
You immediately know exactly what he’s asking about, but you let out a confused, questioning hum. 
“Not sure what you mean.” 
“Really.” 
“You’re going to have to refresh my memory.”
You hear the soft huff of Nathan’s laugh, and the slight hush of him pushing off of your desk. You’re certain that he’ll just leave, but Nathan rests one hand on your desk, and the other on the back of your chair as he leans over you. 
“Well I’ve been told,” You shiver as his breath brushes your neck, “That you don’t fuck your boss.” 
“Oh, that policy.” 
“Mm.” 
“That one is still in place.” 
“Really.” 
“Firmly.” 
“That’s too bad,” Nathan sighs. 
“Oh?”
“Yeah. You’re fired.” 
“Sure.” You don’t even flinch. You know that he’s not serious. At least…You’re pretty sure. 
“Pack it up.” 
“Can I send this email first.” You glance back toward him, and feel a touch of relief when you find him smiling warmly at you. You shake your head a little, turning back to the screen as you fight off your own smile. 
“Thought you said I wasn’t irresistible,” You remind him. 
“You’re not.”
“And that you don’t miss me.” 
“...I don’t.” 
The pause makes your stomach flip. You swipe your tongue across your lips, considering. 
“In town for long?” You ask. 
“The next week.” 
“Alright.”
 “So?” 
“So…” You shrug, “Maybe I'll quit BlueBook for the weekend.” 
“Just the weekend?” 
“Maybe.” 
“Hm.” 
“You can’t expect me to…Quit for longer than that.” 
“You haven’t taken any vacation days, have you?” 
You scoff, turning toward him fully. 
“Excuse me, but I might have plans for that.” 
“Do you?”
“That’s none of your business.” 
“I’m making it my business.” 
“The weekend.”
“The week.” 
“The—I can’t do that.” 
“Sure you can.”
“It’s too short notice! I’d have to work out coverage.” 
“Then work it out.” Your stomach swoops as Bateman leans in a touch closer, his gaze sweeping from your eyes to linger on your lips. “Call in sick today after the All Hands and we’ll get a head start.” 
“You’re trying to get me in trouble.” 
“You’re making it harder than you need to.” 
“Your cock or your plan?” 
Nathan grins. 
“Would it shock you if I said both?” 
“Not one bit.” 
“Good.” He grips your jaw, giving it a squeeze before he lets go and straightens, turning away. “Block off your calendar. I’ll send you the address.” 
You lean back in your seat, unable to help watching him as he leaves. You wait for him to turn back, to shoot you a smile or a wink, to tell you that he’s kidding—but he doesn’t say or do a thing as he goes. You bite your lip, hesitantly turning toward your laptop again and opening your calendar. The next week doesn’t look…Too busy. There are a few status calls that you’re not necessarily needed on. The deliverables that you have could be shifted, and surely in the next week, you’ll have some time to yourself. You can bring your work laptop home with you. You wince. You’ve done a pretty good job of keeping your work out of your apartment. But hell, it’s been three and a half years. If you’re only starting to take your work home with you now, that’s pretty good. 
You have 20 PTO days. Are you seriously going to take five of them just to be at Bateman’s beck and call? 
--  
You don’t even make it to his place before it starts. 
You can’t focus through the All Hands; you’re distracted. You can’t get your head together. You sit there, going back and forth and back and forth on whether or not taking this time off is actually a good idea. You could always take the time and then go back to the office if you decide that this just isn’t working for you. But then, Nathan might talk you into staying with him for a few more days. 
How the hell did he talk you into this in the first place? 
You desperately try to swallow against your drying throat, glancing around. Everyone is engaged with what Bateman is saying up front, or splitting their attention between their laptops and phones, still answering emails and slack messages while Bateman fills them in on funding updates and the state of the company. You ought to be focusing, too, but you suddenly feel so—hot. It’s not sexy, either. It’s like your skin is prickling from the inside. You scrub your sweaty palms against the fabric of work jeans, shifting uncomfortably in your—in your seat—
You push yourself up, mumbling your apologies as you squeeze past the other people in the aisle. You don’t look back as you hurry toward the door at the back of the conference space, even as your ears catch on Nathan’s comments that the latest BlueBookTab is set to complete its final round of QA by the end of Q2. 
You wind your way through the halls, your stomach twisting with discomfort. You already put in for your time off, cited the fact that you were sick. Surely your hasty exit would’ve lent credence to that—but maybe you could still retract that PTO request. Or maybe you could—Hell, what can you do? 
You reach your office and draw in a relieved breath at the complete silence and calm. Water, you need water. You take up your water bottle, taking a greedy swig. You must’ve had too much coffee this morning, maybe that’s why you feel so—blegh, so weird. Or maybe it’s a sign. If you feel this uneasy, this unsure about spending time with Nathan, it must mean that your time likely wouldn’t be such a good idea, anyway. You can tell Nathan that. You can calmly, rationally tell Nathan that you’ve changed your mind. He won’t care—
“What’s going on?” 
You whirl around at the sound of his question. Nathan looks almost bored, and sounds mildly perplexed. 
“What are you,” You wave back toward the door, “What about the All Hands?” 
“It’s finished.” 
“...Oh.” 
“Yeah. You ran out, like, right before I wrapped things up. Did you pay any attention to the agenda?” 
“Not really, no.” 
“Why did I even hire you,” Nathan chuckles, kicking the door shut behind himself. 
“You tell me,” You bite out. Nathan rolls his eyes, further rankling the irritated nerves in your belly. 
“Relax, sweetheart. It was a joke.” 
“It wasn’t for me.” 
“You want me to tell you?” His brows raise as he walks closer. “You’re kidding me.” 
“And if I’m not?” 
“What’s wrong with you?” He presses. You push a short breath out through your nose, shaking your head as you search for the words.
“I’m just—” You clear your throat. “I’m having some second thoughts.” 
“About?” 
“This.” 
“BlueBook?” 
“This,” You clarify, waggling the finger between the two of you. 
“If you’re that worried about coverage, bring your laptop with you.” 
“Then what’s the point in leaving the office? Look,” You groan, “I’m sure you can find someone else to fuck.” 
“Sure I can. I have.” 
It’s like a slap in the face. You stare at him for a moment, stunned. 
“I—Then—” You splutter, “Why—? Are you with someone?” 
“Not with,” He plops into a chair. “Just…You know.” 
“No, I don’t know, Nathan. That’s why I’m asking.” 
“The hell does it matter to you, huh? Why are you so hung up on this?” 
“I’m not, I’m just—” 
“—You clearly are—” 
“I just want—Fuck, I don’t know, if you’re like, dating someone, I don’t wanna insert myself in whatever the hell mess that would be.” 
“I told you, I’m not with anyone,” He repeats boredly. “Satisfied?” 
You consider for a moment. Are you? You’re not sure you are. You were having reservations before he mentioned that he had found someone else to screw around with. 
“...No,” You finally determine, shaking your head. “I’m not.” 
“Fuck,” Nathan groans, tipping his head back before he pushes himself up out of the chair. “Alright, forget it. I don’t know when the hell you got so fucking boring.” 
“Excuse me?”
“What, is your listening comprehension going, too?”
“Fuck you!” 
“You had your chance, sweetheart.” 
“You wanna say that to my fucking face, Bateman?” 
Seeing him stop just a few steps from the door and whirl around to you makes your hair stand on end. 
“Which part did you miss, huh?” He spits as he grows closer, “Where’d I fucking lose you?” 
“You haven’t had me since day one, you self-centered, self-righteous asshole—” You suck in a breath as he roughly grips your jaw, shutting you up. Your heart pounds in your chest as Nathan presses close, backing you up against the harsh edge of your desk. You raise your hands, grasping Nathan’s wrist so roughly that your nails bite into his skin. His lips twitch with a contentious smile as his hips shift against yours. 
“I haven’t had you since day one where, honey? Here?” He asks in a low, cruel murmur. He nudges you back to sit on the desk before he tips his head, eyes searching yours. “This is my company, sweetheart. My name’s on the fucking door. I’ve had you the entire goddamn time.” 
His mouth covers yours before you can gripe or argue. You groan at the contact, only allowing yourself to savor it for a few moments before you bite down harshly on his plump lower lip. Nathan’s hand slips from your jaw, smoothing down to squeeze around the sides of your neck. You whimper, reaching out to grasp and twist the fabric of his collar, hauling him closer. Bateman draws back with a slick sound, peering at you as he squeezes just a little harder. Your lips remain parted, heaving in tight breaths as stars begin to crowd your eyes. You hear a sharp whine, and it’s a moment before you realize that the sound came from you. Nathan tuts and shushes you softly as he loosens his grasp. 
“There’s no lock on that door,” He murmurs, “You want everyone to come in? See you spreading your legs for me like this?” 
You hurriedly shake your head, and his smile widens. 
“Then I guess we better occupy that mouth of yours.” 
-- 
It’s a risk that you never would’ve taken in Sc(ai)le’s offices. Those hadn’t been even remotely private—if anyone had walked past when you and Bateman were there before, they would’ve seen you. Now, unless someone knocks on your door and comes in, no one will know. 
Still, your position doesn’t exactly inspire confidence. If any one walked in now, they’d see Nathan’s bare ass, and your hands grasping his hips as he thrusts into your mouth. 
Your hold on him is fairly futile. With his hand on the crown of your head, you have little range of motion. You’re hardly moving, just holding your mouth open as he thrusts roughly between your lips. Your eyes water as you peer up at him, as you watch his tongue swipe across his lips, his gaze dark as he watches you. He shoves his hips forward harder still, and you struggle to recoil as you gag, as he keeps your head locked in position. He finally lets up, and you sway backward, coughing roughly as you swipe to clear away the spit that’s leaked along the sides of your lips. You watch Nathan chuckle, grasping his slickened shaft. Your thighs twitch, sending a tingling through your wet, neglected cunt. Before he can ask—before he can demand it, or say a word, you kneel up again, taking the head of his cock between your lips. He huffs out a soft laugh, hips twitching before his hand smoothed over your cheek, thumb sweeping across your cheekbone.
“Yeah,” He coos, “I missed you, too, sweetheart.” 
You groan, sinking your nails into the meat of his thigh as you swipe your tongue along the veined underside. 
-- 
“You hungry?” 
You don’t answer right away, and maybe that’s why he presses, “Hey.” You feel him sweep his hand along your naked lower back. It makes you sag even deeper into the mattress. “You alright?”
You draw in a deep breath, leaving your eyes closed as you consider. You are aching, and sated. You feel fucked-out, and cozy, and…
“Yeah,” You finally mumble, though it’s a herculean effort. Your tongue feels heavy, and your lips feel oddly…Gluey. “I could eat.” 
You feel the bed dip, and hear the sound of his feet padding across his bedroom floor. It’s chased by the rumble of a drawer opening, and you wince as it’s then slammed shut. You roll onto your belly from your side, turning your head from the thud as another drawer is opened. You feel the bed dip again a moment later. 
“Here,” He urges, dropping some clothes within reach. “Should’ve stopped by yours to get some clothes.” 
“...Mmm.”
You hear him chuckle, and feel his hand on your cheek. 
“Open your eyes for me.” 
You finally do, blinking up at him where he’s leaning against the headboard. It shouldn’t be such a warm sight, considering the struggle in your office, but a tired smile unwittingly pulls at your lips. 
“Do we have water?” You mumble. 
“No. I’m a billionaire without access to water.” 
“Shut up,” You groan, pushing yourself back onto your back and squinting up at the harsh lighting. “What time is it, anyway?” 
“Almost nine.” 
“...In the..?” 
“Evening.” 
“Mm.” 
“Here.” 
You look up as you hear the crisp crack of a water bottle being opened. You push yourself back just a little, settling your head on his thigh and taking hold of the proffered bottle and cap. 
“Don’t spill it,” He mutters. 
“I won’t.” Probably. Maybe you will, just to spite him. God knows how many bedrooms he has, you can probably find somewhere else to sleep. You draw in a greedy gulp, then another. It’s so cool; you didn’t realize how thirsty you were. 
“Slow down,” Nathan counsels boredly as he takes his phone up from the bedside table. “You start choking on it, I’m just gonna laugh.” 
“You usually laugh when I choke,” You mumble, lowering the water. He huffs softly, nodding. 
“That’s true. What do you wanna eat?” 
“I don’t know. What do you have here?” 
“I’m gonna order something.” 
“Oh.” You think for a moment before you tip your head back to look at him. “What are you hungry for?” 
“Think we both know what I’m hungry for.” 
“That’s not hot, it just sounds cannibalistic.” 
“Don’t get too close to my phone, Clarice.” 
“Fuck, your Hopkins needs work.” 
“So?” 
“Grilled cheese,” You finally decide, closing your eyes again. “With bacon and tomato.” 
“‘Kay.” 
“And a chocolate milkshake.” 
“Alright.” 
“And fries.” 
“Thought the fries were implied.” 
“Just confirming.” 
“Cheese fries or regular fries?” 
“Mmm…Regular.” 
“Drink your water.” 
You raise your hand obediently, taking another few sips. You hear Nathan set his phone down on the bedside table after a few moments. 
“You wanna get cleaned up?” He asks, smoothing his fingers down your throat. 
“Not yet.” 
“Alright.” 
You feel Nathan’s hand rest over your throat for a moment before he lets his touch drift lower. 
“Should see if I have a turtleneck in here,” He comments. 
“Why?” 
“You’re bruising.” 
You open your eyes, surprised as you wave toward your throat. He nods, smoothing his knuckles gently along the sides of your neck. You bite your lip, considering. 
“Was I too rough?” He asks. 
You shake your head. 
“You sure?” 
You nod. 
“I need to hear it,” He insists. You huff softly, capping the water and setting aside. You push yourself up on slightly shaky arms before pressing yourself into Nathan’s side. It seems like his arm curls around your waist on instinct as you nuzzle against his neck. 
“You weren’t too rough,” You murmur. “Okay? If I’d wanted you to stop, I would’ve told you to.” 
You feel Nathan nod slightly, his hand splaying on your waist. You close your eyes, resting against him. 
“Maybe we should establish a safeword, though,” You offer after a moment. 
“Sure. Jenn.” 
“What?” 
“The safeword.” 
You reel away, socking Nathan in the shoulder as he grins smugly at you. It’s a stupid decision—your head spins from moving too fast. You rest that same hand on Nathan’s shoulder to steady yourself as you grumble, “That is not even remotely funny.” 
“C’mere,” Nathan urges. “You’re gonna make yourself sick, moving like that.” 
“Your fault,” You mumble, though you cuddle up against him again. 
“Uh-huh.” Nathan turns his head, nuzzling against your hair. 
“...Crypto,” You finally say. 
“You want your safeword to be crypto?” 
“Yeah.” 
“Why?” 
“Because I hate it and it’s something I’ll remember.” 
Nathan snorts a laugh before you feel him nod. 
“Crypto it is.” He smooths his hand up your back, rubbing in small circles. You let your eyes slip shut again, allowing yourself to relax as the pressure in your head drops away. It’s strange. Even when you and Nathan fucked around before, it wasn’t quite like this. Sure, you had moments when he’d keep close, or when you didn’t get up right away, but you never made an effort to cuddle up, and he never made it a point to keep you this close. He used to relish in your discomfort, not try to lessen it. 
It’s almost frightening how long it took for you to shut him out during your time at BlueBook, and how quickly you let him back in. It took one evening for him to unravel you, beyond the bounds of your prior…What could you call it? Association? Relationship? 
“Drink your water,” He urges again. You shift a little reluctantly, leaning away from him to take hold of the bottle before leaning against him again. You yawn widely as you unscrew the cap, taking another few sips. You hold it up questioningly, and Nathan takes it, drawing in his own gulp before pressing it back into your hands. 
--  
He hovers. 
Maybe it shouldn't be such a surprise, considering how depleted you were before you got out of bed, but you never expected Nathan to be the type to…Hover. You can feel him watching you as you settle on a seat at his kitchen island, resting your chin on your hand and fighting back a yawn. You can hear him unpacking the food, popping the containers lids before pushing a few over toward you. 
“Here,” He urges. “Sit up.” 
“Ugh,” You groan, pushing yourself and opening your eyes. “Is there a straw for the milkshake?” 
Nathan pokea through the bag for a moment before he throws one toward you. You flinch, fumbling to catch it before ripping off the wrapping and jabbing it into the lid. 
“Thanks.” 
“Mm.” 
You pull in a taste, shoulders wiggling with joy as the sweetness sweeps across your tongue. You reach out, opening the container and picking up a couple of fries. You glance over as Nathan leans against the counter across from you. 
“What’d you get?” You ask, nodding toward him. 
“Veggie burger.” 
You hum, popping the fries between your lips. You have to fight the urge to cram a few more in before you’ve even finished chewing. You didn’t even realize how hungry you were. 
“Still having second thoughts?” Bateman asks. You frown, and he clarifies: “About this week.” 
You press your lips into a thin line as you consider. You pop the lid off the milkshake, dipping one of the fries inside and swirling it around. 
“Not in the same way,” You admit. 
��What’s still tripping you up?” 
“...I never told Jenn.” 
You can feel Nathan’s gaze as you reach for half of your grilled cheese. 
“Never told Jenn what?” He asks. 
“Anything, about, you know. This.” 
“You need to?” 
“No! No, not need, no,” You shake your head, “But…I’m a shit friend, you know. She likes you.” 
It’s not fair to tip her hand like this, without her knowledge, but there’s no way that Bateman doesn’t know this by now, right? Still, it’s a moment before he lets out a grunt. 
“What?” You sigh. 
“Nothing.” 
“It’s clearly something.” 
“She didn’t tell you.”
“Didn’t tell me what?” 
“Remember when I said that I found someone else to fuck?” 
It’s like he’s dumped a bucket of water over your head. You freeze mid-chew, gobsmacked, your heart dropping into your stomach as Bateman reaches out, snagging a few of your fries as if he didn’t just turn your world upside. 
“...Uh…” You shake your head, “I didn’t—I had no—When?” 
“I don’t know, last year?” 
Last year. You shake your head a little, trying to knock a response loose. 
“Wu—uh…When?” 
“After your party.” 
“The party where you asked me to come stay with you for a week?”
“Yeah. But you didn’t, so.” 
“So you fucked Jenn because I didn’t fuck you.” 
“I fucked Jen when you didn’t fuck me. You weren’t the implicit cause. That make you feel better?” 
“A little, yeah, I guess. But that doesn’t uh—weird feeling. This is a weird feeling.” 
“I’m a little surprised she didn’t tell you.” 
“Yeah. Yeah, me, too.” 
You reach for the milkshake, slugging back a gulp and wincing as brain freeze sets in. 
“You gonna get all weird about it?” Nathan asks. 
“I’m not—No. No, I’m not making this weird. I’m not gonna let this get weird. We’re gonna fuck.” 
“If you’re sure.” 
“All week, I mean we are gonna do it. A lot,” You insist, pointing at him. Nathan’s lips twitch in amusement. 
“Alright,” He concedes, holding his hands up, “Jeez. Long as you leave it attached.” 
“...Did you ever mention this to her?” You ask, waving between the two of you again. 
“No.” 
“Okay.” 
“Are you going to?” 
“If I do, I’ll give you a heads up.” 
“Whatever.” 
“Was it just the one time?” 
“Yeah.” 
“Okay.”
That shouldn’t make you feel superior or good, but…Well, it kinda does. You and Jenn haven’t had a tug of war over Nathan, per se, not personally. It sounds like what they had was a one night stand than a real relationship. 
Still, it’s her business, and her…Business. 
“Cut it out.” 
“What?” You blink, frowning. 
“I can see the smoke coming out of your ears.” 
“Oh—Shut up,” You gripe, throwing a fry at him. He smiles, picking it up from where it lands limply on the counter. 
“So?” He asks, “Are you staying?” 
-- 
The two of you don’t spend the entire time in bed. It’s just not physically possible, and the two of you do need breaks every now and again. Neither of you can draw yourself entirely away from work, either. You manage to contain it. You don’t let it creep into the rest of the house. You make a little space for yourself in his office, curling up in the corner of the couch and hunching over your screen and keyboard. Your time off is approved, but you still answer a few emails a day, and dial into a few status calls, just to keep up to date with what’s going on with your team. Nathan spends a fair bit of time working, too. You’re fascinated by the wall practically papered in post-its, even more fascinated still as you actually watch him work. 
For all of Bateman’s pointed teasing and distraction while you worked with one another at Sc(ai)le, he has laser-focus when he’s working on BlueBook. You don’t take the same pains to annoy him as he had with you. You’re too interested in the way that he iterates, how he conducts himself when speaking to other staff members, how he occasionally mutters to himself as he makes notes. While you’re working, it’s like you’re hardly there. He’ll catch your eye every now and again, but for the most part, he leaves you to your own devices. A time or two, when you’re dialing into the same meeting, Nathan dials in and brings his phone over to the couch so that the two of you can listen in together. 
You shift closer to him when he does, sitting side by side. Whenever Nathan unmutes, you’re careful to keep completely silent. You don’t want anyone to get even a hint that you’re there. It’s not against any company policy, but my god, it would set the team’s tongues wagging. 
After one such call, Nathan hangs up, pitching the phone into the other end of the couch and grunting, “Fuckin’ idiots.” 
You can’t help but smile. 
“You do know that I’m still here, right?” You ask. 
“You think I forgot?” Nathan turns to look at you, brows raising, “You gonna tell ‘em?” 
“What?”
“You gonna tell ‘em that I think they’re fuckin’ idiots?” He shifts toward you. You shrug, turning back to your laptop and reopening the email that you’d been drafting before the call. 
“Probably not.” 
“Oh, probably not.” 
“Freedom of speech.” 
“Freedom of speech protects you from the government, sweetheart. Not from me.” 
“I don’t need anyone to protect me from you.” 
“No?” 
“Nn-nn.” 
“You sure about that?” 
Before you can answer, Nathan snaps your laptop shut and tosses it to the floor. 
“Are you crazy?” You screech as Nathan climbs over you, steering you back onto the couch. You give his chest a shove, but it hardly moves him as he crowds against you. His hands skim up your sides, and you can’t help but grin and squirm against him as his lips cover yours. 
You think that time must be mellowing him. You’ve been with Nathan for three days straight, and you can’t help but notice a few…Differences. It goes well beyond the hovering. 
He hasn’t kissed you so much since that first night. Nathan seems to almost delight in your kisses now. He takes his time slotting himself between your legs, spreading your thighs wide as his tongue spears past your smiling lips. He doesn’t hurry things along as he used to—though in fairness, these days, you have far more time than you used to. You’re not cuddling up in some dark corner, wary of being seen, or caught. You’re not hurrying out of bed, covering up as quickly as possible and shooing him out to scrub the sweat from your skin. 
He doesn’t turn you, shove you into the wall, into the mattress, into the backseat of his car. Now, face to face, he tugs your panties aside and eases his sweatpants down just far enough to draw out his hardened cock, and ease it into your slick, aching pussy. The two of you groan against one another’s lips as he sheathes himself fully inside you. You raise your hands, cupping his cheeks and swirling your tongue along his as he plants his knees against the cushions to gain purchase. 
Nathan reaches down and hikes your shirt up as your hips press together. You shiver as he ducks his head, his beard brushing harshly over your pebbling nipple before he takes it into his mouth. 
“Fuck, Nate,” You moan, fingers hooking in the fabric of his shirt. He hums, teasing the nipple lightly with his teeth before he draws back. His kisses trail up your neck, brushing over your throat. 
“Your bruises are starting to fade,” He murmurs. 
“Oh?” 
“Mm.” 
“Are you gonna fix that?” 
Nathan leans up, grinning. 
“Maybe later, baby.” 
You reach up, shoving at his chest and urging, “Up, get up.”
Nathan shifts back, sitting on the end of the couch and pushing off his sweatpants. You draw your top off and kick away your panties before you clamber onto his lap. You steady a hand on his shoulder, reaching down and grasping his length before easing down onto it. You whine softly as you settle into his lap, as he slides his hands up your back and draws you close. You lean into him, resting your forehead against his as you begin to roll your hips. 
“Come on,” Nathan urges, “You can do better than that.” 
You laugh a little, resting your hands on the back of the couch. 
“I’m doing exactly what I want.” 
“I want more.”
“Well that’s too damn ba—ad! Fuck!” You whimper as he grasps your hips, steadying you and snapping his hips up harshly. Your mouth falls open as he takes control of the pace, fucking up into you almost punishingly. 
“Nathan, goddamnit,” You breathe as his fingers press more hardly into your hips. 
“You close?” He murmurs. 
“N-no.” 
“Too bad.” 
“What do you—mean, oh, you piece of shit,” You whine as Nathan tips his head back, his hips jolting harshly as he spills into you. You reach down to play with your clit, but Nathan shoves your hand away and pushes your hips up. You frown, confused as Nathan slips down, then grin as he shoves the coffee table back. He sends it scattering as he slides down and lowers himself to sit on the floor, resting his head on the cushion and dragging your hips down to his lips. Your fingers flex in the fabric of the cushion as you peer down at Nathan. His tongue swipes across your cunt before he gives your lips a sucking kiss. Your hips quiver as he swipes his tongue against your tingling clit. You grind greedily against his questing tongue and lips, chasing your pleasure. 
“Almost,” You warn. Nathan hums against you, hurriedly lapping his tongue against your clit and grasping your hips to draw you even closer. A stunned moan leaves you as he sucks your clit, lashing his tongue against it until you’re shaking, hips rabbiting against him. Nathan moans, tipping his head to and fro and nuzzling your tender flesh as you ride out your orgasm. You push yourself off of him, flopping back onto the couch. It takes Nathan a moment to push himself up, and you groan as he drops himself on top of you. 
“Noooo,” You groan, “Get off’a me.” 
“Why.” 
“I’m all hot and sticky.” 
“I know.” 
“So are you.” 
“I know,” Nathan grins, nuzzling up against you and pressing closer. You whine, kicking your feet irritatedly.
“You’re awful,” You mumble, looping your arms around his shoulders regardless. He grunts, peppering your neck with tender kisses. 
“I know that, too.” 
-- 
“I’m going to have to tell her.” 
“Have to?” 
You meet Nathan’s eye in the mirror as you dab foundation over the newly blooming bruises on your neck. 
“Have to,” You nod. 
Nathan leans in the doorway of the bathroom, watching you closely. He seems to be considering it before he nods a little. 
“Alright.” 
“Are you okay with—” 
“Yes.” 
“Okay.” 
“What are you going to tell her?” 
“That…That we fuck.” 
“Okay.” 
“What else would I tell her?” 
“No, that’s accurate. I was just curious.” 
“We can talk about the verbiage—”
“We fuck,” He agrees. “It’s fine.” 
“Okay,” You nod, directing your gaze back toward the mirror and pumping some more foundation onto your beauty blender. 
“That what you’re going in?” 
You glance down toward your outfit—your jeans, and one of Nathan’s t-shirts. 
“Yeah,” You shrug. “We’re just grabbing bagels, nothing fancy.” 
“Are you gonna be long?” 
“Jeez,” You laugh. “No, dad.” 
“Hey,” He pushes off of the door frame, sauntering closer. “We’ve only got a couple more days here. I’m heading back soon.” 
“I know.” 
“So?” 
“So I told you, I won’t be long.” 
“Good.” 
“You’re such a big baby,” You mumble as Nathan cuddles up against your back. You smile as his hands smooth over your hips and belly. 
“You’re a goody two-shoes that can’t lie to people.” 
“Yeah, god forbid I have a conscience. I’m really not coming up with the short end of the stick here.” 
“You aren't coming up with the short end of anything,” Nathan murmurs, rolling his hips against you. You snort, swatting back at him. 
“Cut it out, you perv. I’m gonna be late.” 
-- 
“...Are you going to say anything?”
You don’t think she will for a few long moments. Jenn’s expression is frighteningly unreadable. She roughly swallows the large bite of bagel that she'd taken before she clears her throat, setting the bagel back down. 
“Let me get this straight,” She leans back in her seat. “You have spent the last…What, three and a half years telling me, swearing up and down that you hate him—” 
“I think ‘swearing’ is a little strong—” 
“—And now you’re telling me that you’ve been fucking him? For a year?”
“...Ish,” You nod, “It’s, um…Maybe closer to a year and a half. Although—That’s elapsed, if we went by the amount of time we actually spent, it’s probably closer to…Six months?” 
“Oh, if it’s elapsed.” 
“Yeah.” 
“Well that makes it sooo much better.” 
“Yeah, I thought it—...You’re being sarcastic.” 
“God, you’re so smart.” 
“Look, Jenn, I know this seems kinda bad on the face of it—” 
“It doesn’t seem bad. It is bad.” 
“I’m sorry.” 
“Well, that makes me feel much better.” 
“I didn’t mean to—” 
“You knew that I liked him!” 
“...Yeah,” You lower your gaze to your untouched food. “I did. What I did was shitty, I’m not pretending it’s not. I should’ve told you after the first time it happened, and it shouldn’t have happened again. Frankly, it…It probably shouldn’t have happened at all.” 
Jenn pushes a sigh through her nose as she raises her hands, scrubbing them over her face. 
“Do you like him?” She asks after a few moments. 
“What’s that got to do with anything?” 
She shoots you a disbelieving look as she lowers her hands, and you hold your own up in concession. 
“I think, it’s just…” You consider for a few moments. “When it started, it was…Angry. I was angry, I was mad at him, and the sex kinda worked some of that out. I’m not mad at him like that anymore. I’m not even angry about that entire situation anymore, I’m…I guess I like him,” You finally concede. “Not like-like—Christ, I sound like a teenager, I just mean, um…” You shake your head. “We’ve reached…An amicable place.” 
“And that place is his bed?” 
You bite back a laugh as you nod a little bit, “Sometimes.” You watch Jenn for a few moments, taking in the furrow of her brow and the thin press of her lips. “How pissed are you?” 
“...I’m not gonna pretend I’m happy about it.” 
“I’m not asking you to.” 
“You should’ve told me.” 
“I know. I honestly didn’t think it would keep happening, but it did.” 
“Even now?” 
“...Yeah.” 
“Wow.” 
“Sorry.” 
Jenn huffed a stunned laugh, shaking her head. 
“I need to process this.” 
“I totally get that. Take your time.” 
“Gee, thanks for your permission.” 
“That’s not what I meant.” 
“...Are you wearing his shirt?”
-- 
“You wanna talk about it?” 
“Not really.” 
“Talk about it anyway.” 
You roll your eyes, looking down at Nathan. His chin is resting on your belly, smoothing his hands along your thighs. You sigh softly, shifting slightly under him.
“It could’ve been worse,” You concede. “She didn’t, like…Flip, but she wasn’t happy about it. Obviously.” 
“Didn’t think she would be.” 
“No, me neither.” 
“Well thanks, Mr. Smarty Pants.” You sigh, smoothing your hand over his head and honing in on the feeling of the his buzzed hair against your palm. “I’m gonna have to give her space for a while.” 
“She ask you to?” 
“No, but when Jenn is mad like this, she needs…Time. She comes back to me, not the other way around. I can’t push.”  
“What if she doesn’t come back?” 
Maybe he means it as a harmless hypothetical, but the prospect makes you feel queasy. It’s a thought that you’ve been grappling with all afternoon, that had caused tears to prickle in your eyes as you’d driven back to Bateman’s place. You shake your head wordlessly, swallowing thickly and directing your gaze toward the ceiling. 
“Okay,” He concedes. You smooth your hand down to his nape, letting your eyes close as you draw in a deep breath. It’s strange to find comfort in the way Nathan covers your body with his and nuzzles into your neck. He shouldn’t be so sweet with you, not after everything that the two of you have been done. But he cuddles close nonetheless, taking your hands in his and settling into silence. 
--  
“You gonna miss me?” 
He is teasing now. You glance up from your laptop as you sit on Nathan’s bed, watching him sort through his dresser drawers and draw out a few items to pack for his trip home. 
“...Yeah,” You admit after a few moments. “I think I am, a little bit.” 
He casts a surprise glance over his shoulder. 
“You can always come up and see me.” 
“After the week off I just took? No, I don’t think I always can.” 
“Figure of speech.” 
“Inaccurate.” 
“You gonna cry when I take off? Throw yourself onto the tarmac in front of the jet?” 
“Oh, yeah. I’m gonna actually stay here, waste away in this bed without you.” 
Nathan turns toward you again, tossing a shirt in the direction of the duffel bag before he climbs onto the bed beside you. 
“Close it,” He urges. 
“Almost done here.” 
“Close it now.” 
“If you shut it on my fingers and throw it again, I’m gonna punch you in the nards.” 
Nathan snorts, sliding down against the headboard and resting his head on your shoulder. You can’t help but smile at the warmth and weight of him beside you, and the way he repositions his head to get more comfortable. You finally finish your email before you make a big show of closing the laptop and setting it aside. 
“Can I help you?” 
Nathan turns his head, nudging his nose against your neck. 
“You could stay here,” He offers. 
“I like my place. Besides, I don’t have any of my shit here. I’ve been wearing your clothes, like, all week.” 
“I know. Looks good.” 
You smile, shaking your head. 
“I don’t wanna stick around when you’re not here, Nathan.” 
“And if I am around?” 
“...Might be nice,” You shrug, looking down at your discarded laptop. “But you’re not around much.” 
“That could change.” 
Your stomach flips at the assertion, and as Nathan looks up at you, you force a neutral expression. 
“If it’s in the best interest of the company, then sure, I guess,” You excuse. You finally chance a glance toward Nathan, and find him watching you closely. 
“...I’d like it,” You admit softly. Nathan nods, murmuring, “Alright.” 
You nod, looking down at your lap. You'd said three little words, but they feel so dangerous. Your nerves turn to the fluttering of butterflies as he presses a tender kiss to your jaw. 
“You’re just adorable,” Nathan murmurs, and you grin at the mocking sincerity in his tone. 
“Yeah, well. You’re short.”
Tag list: @missredherring; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ;  @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight; @amneris21 ; @ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage ; @lorecraft ; @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity ; @nolanell ; @millllenniawrites ; @chattychelsea ; @dihra-vesa ; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices​ ; @missswriter ; @thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ; @winchestershiresauce ; @aellynera ; @writefightandflightclub ; @thedukeofcaladan ; @beepboopyoda ; @foxilayde ; @revolution-starter ; @rachelwritesstuff ; @queen-of-elves
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ticklishfiend · 4 years ago
Text
Strawberry Milk (My Hero Academia)
Ship : Lee!Bakugou Ler!Kirishima (Kiribaku)
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A/N : this took forever to make and it's the longest fic i've posted on this account so far, but i just had a lot of fun making it!! i hope you guys enjoy it, especially the lovely krbk anon who inspired this. they actually sent a few prompts that have inspired other krbk tickle fic ideas that i'll more than likely write for soon as well, but for now i hope you enjoy this!! much love <33
Summary : Kirishima stays for a sleepover at Bakugou’s childhood home, and after accidentally pissing off the explosive teen, seeks out some professional help from someone who may know the boy best: his father. From this, Kirishima learns a quick way from the boys childhood to get him forgiveness in no time.
Word Count : 5113 (jfc lmao)
REBLOGS ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED!! MWAH <33
. . .
“Are you seriously mad at me over this?” Kirishima asked with a confused, breathy chuckle. He watched as his best friend pouted with arms crossed over his chest like a child, glaring daggers into the redhead from his spot on the bed.
“Yes. And I do not plan on changing that. So don’t fucking try me, Spiky Hair” Bakugou turned his body fully away from Kirishima now, who was lounged rather comfortably on Bakugou’s orange beanbag seated on the ground. Kirishima rolled his eyes at Bakugou’s childishness, though still couldn’t help but feel a little bit guilty.
After months of practically having to beg the explosive teen for a sleepover at his childhood home, the blonde finally relented and allowed Kirishima to be a guest in his home for the weekend. Bakugou’s parents were actually pretty happy to have Bakugou back at the house, even if for such a short period of time, and were even more thrilled when they realized someone actually wanted to come with him. Bakugou was never really one for making (and keeping) close friends growing up, so this was something they were definitely excited over the prospects of.
He and Bakugou had been playing video games for the past couple of hours now, their most recent game that Bakugou was now practically fuming over being...Minecraft. Bakugou had gotten pretty attached to a wolf he unsurprisingly named “Prince Homicide,” but after bringing it to a cave while mining with Kirishima, the red-head had accidentally pushed it into a vat of lava, killing it almost instantly.
So that’s where the pair were now. Bakugou seething from his spot criss-crossed on the bed, now turned away from Kirishima with his arms crossed like a child towards the wall. Kirishima sighed, pushing himself off the beanbag and walking towards Bakugou’s door.
“Look, I’m gonna go get something to drink. You want anything?” Kirishima raised his eyebrows in hopes of a response.
“Die,” was all he got.
Kirishima bit back another chuckle, opening the door before turning his head back around to look at Bakugou, who was now fiddling with his sheets and grumbling to himself angrily. “Alright, well, I’ll be back in just a minute. Hopefully you’ll have calmed yourself down enough by then.”
“I AM CALM YOU RED-HAIRED LOSER!” Bakugou yelled at the door as Kirishima quickly walked out and shut the door to avoid the small blasts he could hear shooting from the boy’s palms. Kirishima just shook his head with a grin, making his way down the stairs and towards the kitchen.
When he arrived, he saw Bakugou’s father cooking dinner on the stove. It made Kirishima smile, reminding him of his own home a little, though he hadn’t been back home in a while. He did miss his moms quite a lot since moving to the dorms, and he’ll definitely have to invite Bakugou over to meet them sometime soon.
He could smell the amazing spices his father had been adding to whatever meat and noodles he had in the pot, the scent almost burning Kirishima’s nose from how spicy he could tell it was. ‘Obviously loving spiciness must run in the family,’ Kirishima thought as he opened up the fridge, alerting the father’s attention.
“Oh, Kirishima! Are you looking for anything specific?” the man asked, looking up from his steaming pot for a moment to smile at his son’s best friend. Kirishima shot a cheerful smile right back at him.
“Oh, just some water would be fine!” he nodded, grabbing a water bottle from one of the fridge drawers, before remembering the seething boy upstairs waiting for his return. He grinned. “Actually, what does Bakugou normally drink here? At the dorms he usually has protein shakes but you probably don’t have those just lying around,” Kirishima chuckled, sitting his water bottle down on the kitchen island to look at his friend’s father.
“Well, the boy doesn’t usually like to admit it but he’s quite keen on strawberry milk,” he smiled with a nod as he went back to stirring his pot, glancing over towards Kirishima with a grin.
“Shoot, really? Didn’t peg him for the strawberry milk type of guy,” Kirishima giggled, looking back in the fridge and noticing the few bottles of strawberry milk they had lying on the shelf, probably bought when they found out Bakugou was coming home for the weekend. “He’s kinda mad at me right now so I figured I’d make a peace offering.”
“Not a bad idea, kid. I’ve had to do my fair share of those over the years. Katsuki’s always been the rather...angry type,” Masaru’s eyebrows furrowed downward towards his pot, shaking his head as if thinking of all the times the boy must’ve lost his temper at his old man.
“What did you used to do when he was little? Y’know, whenever he got all...aah!” Kirishima accentuated his little growl imitating Bakugou by shaking his hands angrily in front of him, just like how Bakugou usually does when he’s about to blow someone to kingdom come. This made Masaru laugh, shaking his head and adding a few more spices to the pot.
“Well...as of now, I usually just let his mother handle everything. But when he was little, Mitsuki and I would usually just tickle the little guy ‘til he giggled all that anger out,” Masaru smiled at the fond memories, glancing over towards Kirishima who held a wide-eyed, shocked but excited expression on his face. Masaru chuckled, pointing his spoon towards the teen. “But you did not hear this from me, understand?”
“Oh, totally, I got your back 100% Mr. Bakugou,” Kirishima saluted the man with a grin, making him laugh once more with a fond shake of the head. Kirishima lowered his hand, finally grabbing the strawberry milk from the fridge and sitting it on the counter with his water, promptly shutting the fridge door. “So...that didn’t make him angry or anything? He wouldn’t, like, explode you and Mrs. Bakugou to ashes or something?”
“Well I’m still here to tell the story, aren’t I?” Masaru gestured to his body with his spoon, Kirishima nodding with a chuckle. “Nah, he used to love it when we did that! Sometimes I think he’d pretend to be angry on purpose just so we’d play ‘Claw’ with him.”
“Claw? What’s Claw?” Kirishima asked, now leaning on the counter with his head propped up on his hand, listening intently as if this was the single most interesting thing he’d ever heard (because in all honesty? It very well might’ve been).
“Oh boy, Claw was his favorite. I would always hold his hands down so he couldn’t get away, while his mother would make a claw hand and tickle it into his stomach and ribs. It always had little Katsuki in stitches,” Masaru was very obviously enjoying remembering these fond memories of his son, seeming like he had almost completely forgotten about these fun little moments until Kirishima had brought them all back to light. “We always did it when he was being bratty, but not bratty enough to deserve a time-out. Sometimes, though, he wouldn’t even have to do anything bad, he’d just come out and ask for Claw when he felt playful. It was always so cute,” Masaru grinned widely, looking over towards Kirishima and promptly pointing his spoon back at the boy. “And, again you didn’t hear any of this from me, but…”
He paused, almost debating whether or not this was a good idea. He was finally swayed on his decision, however, when he saw the bright look of excitement in Kirishima’s eyes at the prospect of an actually happy Bakugou. He couldn’t help but cave.
“...but if you wanna really get him laughing, his worst spots are the spot riiiiight under his armpits, and the sides of his thighs. You get him there and he’ll be forgiving you in no time.”
Kirishima nodded with a large, toothy grin, swiping the drinks off the counter and practically bouncing in his spot as he backed his way out of the kitchen. “Thank you so much, Mr. Bakugou. It was truly an honor to know you, but I’ve got a death sentence waiting for me upstairs.”
“You get him, kiddo!” Masaru shouted towards the teen as he scurried his way out of the kitchen and towards the stairs giddily.
Kirishima was practically cheesing when he made his way towards Bakugou’s childhood bedroom, and had to mentally and physically calm himself down before entering so as not to alert Bakugou of his devious scheme.
He pushed the door open, finding Bakugou to now be leaning with his back against the wall, arm propped up on his knee as he scrolled mindlessly through his phone. He scowled upon hearing Kirishima’s entrance, not even bothering to look up towards the boy as he grumbled, “Damn, I was hoping you were gonna stay down there all night.”
Kirishima rolled his eyes, tossing the milk onto the bed beside the blonde and hopping onto it himself. Bakugou’s eyes widened at the sudden movement beside him, eyes darting down to the drink on his bed before scowling back up at Kirishima. “How the fuck did you know I like this shit, I never drink it at school.”
Kirishima grinned, opening up his own water bottle. “Oh, just a little birdy,” he giggled, taking a sip of his water and watching as Bakugou begrudgingly took his own drink and started opening it as well.
“This doesn’t mean I forgive you, moron. These are just...really good,” Bakugou wasn’t looking at Kirishima, obviously still angry as he went back to staring at his phone instead of paying the redhead any mind.
“C’mon, man, I didn’t mean to! It wasn’t on purpose!” Kirishima practically pleaded next to him, putting a hand on the boy’s shoulder which was immediately shrugged off rather aggressively. “Look, I’m sorry. Would it make you feel better if I helped you find a new wolf?”
“Are you kidding me?! I’m not playing this shitty game with you anymore, you fucking suck at it!” Bakugou had a scowl on his face that looked like what he was saying was the single most obvious thing in the whole world. Kirishima just sighed, closing up his water and throwing it down on the bed.
“I’d hate to make you, Bakugou, but you may just force my hand,” Kirishima shook his head slowly as if in disappointment, only making Bakugou’s brows cross in confusion.
“The fuck do you mean ‘make me,’ you idiot?! You can’t force me to do shit, and I’m not fucking playing this game with you,” Bakugou pushed, and to anyone else it definitely wouldn’t sounded like he meant it. But Kirishima knew Bakugou far, far too well. He could hear the competition in his voice, see the spark of want in his eyes that just said ‘please fight me on this.’ He wanted a challenge. Kirishima could see that. And boy was he gonna give it to him.
“Oh, but can’t I?” Kirishima’s voice sounded almost taunting, and once he saw that Bakugou was looking at him with competitiveness painted all over his face, he brought both of his hands up to wiggle fingers menacingly towards the boy.
Bakugou instantly knew what he meant. And if the fact he immediately closed his drink and sat it on his nightstand was no indication that he wanted this to continue, the way he backed up on his bed cautiously with wide eyes instead of immediately fighting Kirishima back most definitely was.
He was excited.
“Kirishima, don’t you fucking dare,” Bakugou pressed through a lie, his eyes never once looking away from those still wiggling fingers taunting him in the air, as if too embarrassed to look Kirishima in the eyes and completely give it away that he wanted this, he wanted the fight. He didn’t have to look for Kirishima to know, though. The redhead was still able to see Bakugou’s face even if Bakugou wouldn’t look at him, and he could see the giddiness behind his wall of caution, which only pushed him to continue.
“Then let’s play the game, Bakugou,” Kirishima grinned as Bakugou gave him no response, only backing further away until finally Kirishima pounced, tackling and fighting Bakugou to the bed. This was the least Bakugou had ever put up a fight with him. Kirishima knew how Bakugou fought, he knew just how skilled and precise his moves always were, and he was giving Kirishima practically none of that. Though he did technically fight his way down, he was still inevitably completely tackled and pinned by the redhead, which almost never happened in their regular spars and play fights.
Kirishima forced Bakugou’s arms up above his head, the hardening hero-in-training using his quirk to keep the boy’s hands pinned there for good. His body hovered over Bakugou’s, a rather compromising position if they were to be walked into, but neither boy cared about that in the moment. They were too focused on the excitement and unadulterated giddiness bubbling in the pit of their bellies, and as Kirishima gazed down at Bakugou with a look of mischief in his eyes, Bakugou knew he knew. Kirishima knew Bakugou wanted this, and now the blonde was aware of that. Bakugou couldn’t quite tell if that made this better or worse.
“Fine then. We can play a different game. How about…” Kirishima paused, mocking as if in hard thought as Bakugou’s lips twitched, his eyes wide in a skittish anticipation. Kirishima finally let out a small pretend gasp, looking down at Bakugou before raising up his free hand in a claw shape. “...Claw.”
Bakugou’s eyes could not have been any wider. His cheeks were stained pink, and he squirmed under Kirishima’s pin, “No, nonono don’t you dare fucking touch me you red piece of shit, I swear to god I’ll fucking-HNG!” Bakugou choked on his words, eyes slamming shut as he felt five meticulous fingers skittered over his now bare tummy, as Kirishima must have pushed up his shirt while Bakugou was too busy threatening. Those nails were fucking torturous against his skin, his nerves lighting up and sparking with a specific feeling he hadn’t felt in what had to be years now. It was so bad, so so bad, but...god, he didn’t realize just how much he had missed this feeling until now.
“Uh oh,” Kirishima’s voice held a teasing tone that made Bakugou shake his head, still trying desperately to hold back any and all giggles that threatened to crawl from his gut. Kirishima chuckled darkly. “Looks like someone’s a little ticklish, huh?”
Bakugou only continued to shake his head from side to side, tugging at his pinned arms with no real fervor behind it. Kirishima couldn’t help the smile on his face seeing the boy like this, so flustered and obviously having a good time at something so cute. He could tell Bakugou was desperately trying to contain his giggles, which was definitely his average pride slipping through, but there was no way Kirishima was just going to let that slide.
With a smirk evil enough to send shivers down the blonde’s spine, Kirishima finally dug in, vibrating all five of his fingers into the boy’s taut abdomen. Bakugou howled, arching his back and kicking wildly behind Kirishima as loud giggles and squeals escaped his ever-excited being.
“NAHAHAHA! KIRISHIMAHAHAHA!” Bakugou screamed, those fingers never relenting in their claw-shaped torment on his belly. “SHIHIHIT AHAHAHA!”
“Damn, Bakugou, you’re really ticklish,” Kirishima chuckled, massaging his fingers into the boy’s muscles, causing his to spasm like he’d been shocked, screaming and kicking and cursing all the while.
“FUHUHUCK YOHOHOU AHAHAHA!” Bakugou guffawed, twisting and turning his body every which way as if he was trying to escape the mirthful torment Kirishima was putting him through. Suddenly, all at once, the tickling stopped, and Bakugou let in a gasp of air he didn’t even realize he needed. He opened his eyes and glared at Kirishima hovering above him, the redhead daunting a sinister grin that made Bakugou’s tummy do summersaults.
“What did you just say to me?” Kirishima questioned menacingly, bringing his free hand up to now hold Bakugou’s wrists in both hands, quickly bringing them both down under his knees with no fight from the blonde, who seemed to be frozen in...fear? Excitement? Either way, his eyes were blown wide, his chest heaving slightly from the attack and small titters still threatening to escape. But Bakugou was never one to back away from a challenge, no matter his condition. He couldn’t help the small twitch at the corners of his lips as he looked up to Kirishima in competition.
“I said: Fuck. You,” Bakugou spat out, and Kirishima could feel his body tense under him after he spoke the fierce words, almost like he was bracing himself for the inevitable. Kirishima shook his head with a grin, raising both his hands up in the air to once again wiggle tauntingly towards his victim.
“Oh, you are so gonna regret that,” Kirishima chuckled, lowering his hands down slowly towards the boy’s quivering belly. His stomach sucked in as if trying to evade the wiggly fingers, Bakugou’s eyes large and never looking away from those claws hovering over his sensitive torso.
Finally, his fingers touched down, skittering over the boy’s lower tummy and making his breath hitch, pursing his lips tightly and slamming his eyes shut at the teasing sensations. Kirishima’s fingers wandered and scribbled all over the boy’s torso, and for a few seconds Bakugou was able to keep his reactions at bay. That is, until Kirishima skittered on a spot right at the base of Bakugou’s ribs, causing the boy to jolt with a small yelp. Kirishima couldn’t contain his chuckle at the reaction.
“Ohoho, there it is,” Kirishima drawled, pinching at the spot that made Bakugou squirm. Bakugou growled, almost like he was trying to keep any cute little giggles to himself, but those incessant pinches just wouldn’t let up, and in seconds time he was a giggling mess under Kirishima’s touch.
“Nohoho! Fuhuhuck shihihit!- AHAHAHAHA NAHAHAHA!” Bakugou practically screamed when he felt Kirishima vibrate his index and middle finger into that spot at his lower ribs right where it meets his back. He arched his spine up, kicking fruitlessly behind Kirishima’s body and cackling like a child all the while. “YOHOHOU BAHAHASTARD! YOHOHOU FUHUHUCKING SHIHIHIT!”
“Well that’s really no way to talk to your best friend, now is it?” Kirishima tsked, clawing at Bakugou’s ribs and eliciting more screeches and cackles from the sensitive teen. “You’re so much more ticklish than I thought you’d be, I am loving this.”
“STAHAHAP SAHAHAYING THAHAHAT!” Bakugou shook his head back and forth, clenching his fists hard under Kirishima’s knees as if trying to keep himself from exploding the both of them both to ashes.
“What? That you’re ticklish?” Kirishima tilted his head with a smirk, pinching up and down the boy’s ribs rapidly, making his laughs soar up in pitch. “Cause, I mean, you are. You’re like, super duper ticklish! But it’s fine cause it’s totally cute,” Kirishima said the last bit without really meaning to, blushing slightly at his blunt statement, but deciding against ending the ticklish torment over it.
“NAHAHAHA! I’M NOHOHOT CUHUHUTE!” Bakugou denied through his cackles, continuing to shake his head in playful anguish. “FUHUHUCK OHOHOHFF!”
“Hmm...I don’t think I will. In fact, there’s a few more tickle spots I wanna try out, so you’re just gonna have to keep a-giggling for me, Bakubro,” Kirishima chuckled, taking his hands off the boy for a moment to give him a breather. Small breathy giggles and titters continued to spill from Bakugou’s lips during his rest, his head leaning back against the pillow in almost exhaustion. Kirishima leaned forward, placing both of his hands beside the boy’s head, leaving his face to hover over the boy’s own blushed one. Bakugou’s eyes widened a bit at the invasion of personal space, but never made an effort to push him off. Kirishima tilted his head like a curious puppy, “You’re okay, right? You don’t like, totally hate this? Cause I can stop if you really want me to.”
Bakugou’s cheeks were splattered pink, his eyes averting their gaze from the boy on top of him. He squirmed a tad under Kirishima’s straddle, shoulders hunching up slightly in embarrassment. “I mean...it’s not...the worst thing in the world…” Bakugou grumbled into his shoulder, eyes still refusing to meet the red-head’s own.
Kirishima grinned down at Bakugou, using one hand to gently cup Bakugou’s chin and turn his head to face his own. “I knew you didn’t hate it. I just wanted you to say it out loud,” he giggled at the blonde’s flustered and shocked expression, before quickly shooting his hands down to squeeze at Bakugou’s ribs with extreme ticklish precision. Bakugou shouted a cackle at the sudden change, his head shaking from side to side and eyes scrunching closed once more.
“OHOHO YOHOHU MOTHERFUHUHUCKER!” Bakugou guffawed, clawing at the sheets under Kirishima’s knees. Kirishima just giggled, working both of his middle fingers in between the tight spot where Bakugou’s arms were clamped against his ribs, digging into the spot just below his underarms that Masaru had told him about.
Bakugou shrieked, kicking harder than before as wave after wave of loud, unfiltered squeals and cackles left his chest.
“SHIHIHIHIT! FUHUHUCK OH MY GAHAHAD! NAHAHAT THEHEHERE! NAHAHAT THAHAHAT SPOHOHOT YOU FUHUHUCK!” He screamed through his laughter, opening an eye to glare at Kirishima through his mirthful tears. Kirishima sported the biggest, shark-toothed grin he could probably muster, and it sent fluttering butterflies throughout the inside of Bakugou’s entire torso.
“Aww, is this spot bad, buddy? This spot tickle?~” Kirishima cooed, his fingers never relenting as they wiggled and dug into that one torutrous little spot that had Bakugou howling.
“FUHUHUCK YOHOHU! YEHEHES! IT T-AHAHA! IT FUHUHUCKING TI-HEHEHE!” Bakugou couldn’t even get the flustering word out through all of his cackles and squeals, which amused Kirishima to no end.
“God how are you so adorable like this,” Kirishima sighed, finally bringing his fingers back down to teasingly scribble and wiggle all over Bakugou’s bare tummy. Bakugou dissolved into a puddle of high-pitched, breathy giggles, that had Kirishima fawning over him in seconds. “You’re so giggly, and I didn’t even know you could giggle before this!”
“Shuhuhut uhuhup!” Bakugou practically whined through his giggles, his cheeks so pink and warm Kirishima could just melt in the cuteness of his flustered face.
“Oooh, I wonder if your belly button is ticklish too,” Kirishima eyed the little navel that bounced through Bakugou’s laughter, one of his fingers travelling over to circle around the button teasingly.
“NO! Nohoho, dohohon’t! Plehehease!” Bakugou pleaded, though Kirishima knew it was all just a front.
“Wow, I’ve got THE Katsuki Bakugou begging right now? Who knew I’d ever see the day!” Kirishima chuckled, worming a teasing nail into the navel and causing Bakugou to shriek and jerk underneath him. “Aww, it’s like a little giggle button!”
“Dohohon’t sahahay that stuhupid shihit!” Bakugou tittered, goosebumps forming all over his tummy from the feather-light way Kirishima scribbled over the skin.
“Alright, oneeee more place I wanna try, then we get back to Minecraft. Deal?” Kirishima moved his fingers to scribble slowly up and down the boy’s sides to let him respond, delighted at the way the movement made him squirm.
“Fihihine, whatehehever,” Bakugou braced himself for the final attack, gasping when he felt Kirishima’s hands leave his sides and rest on the top of his thighs. “Shit, shihit, shit, wahahait-!”
“Oh, this is a good spot, isn’t it?~” Kirishima teased, squeezing the muscle once to see Bakugou jerk and shriek under him. “Yup. Looks like a good one to me.”
“Ohoho plehehease, I cahahan’t, it’s so bahahad-” Bakugou whined, squirming and giggling despite Kirishima’s tickling on his thighs to even start yet.
“You’re a super ticklish guy, Bakugou, but you’re also super tough and manly. I know you can take it!” Kirishima hyped him up with a smile, just making Bakugou groan and roll his eyes with a snicker. “C’mon! Tell me you can take it!”
Bakugou huffed, gazing over at Kirishima’s face that plastered that stupid goofy grin of his. God why does he have to be so cute, Bakugou thought as he sighed with another eye roll.
“Fine, whatever, I can take it, just...fuckin get it over with already, you’re killing me heRE-HRGN! FFFAHAHAHAHA OH SHIHIHIT!” Bakugou keened, cackling and thrashing himself from side to side as both of Kirishima’s hands massaged into his upper thighs. The sensation was torturous, beyond torturous, his nerves were on fire and his muscles were pulsing under those terrible wiggling fingers, but if he could choose it, he’d feel like this forever if it were by the hands of that stupid fucking redhead.
“Damn, this must tickle bad , huh? You’re losing your mind!” Kirishima giggled, squeezing at those sensitive muscles like his life depended on it.
“FUHUHUCK! YEHEHES IT’S SO BAHAHAD! KIRIHIMAHAHAHA! PLEHEHEASE!” Bakugou pleaded and begged, tiny droplets of mirth finally pooling at the corners of his eyes despite his best wishes. Kirishima could tell the blonde was finally reaching his limits, and slowed his fingers down until he was just resting his hands on top of the boy’s thighs comfortingly, rubbing up and down the sides to soothe the still giggling boy.
Kirishima smiled down at Bakugou who was still coming down from his giggle high, titters that could light up a whole room spilling from his lips and making Kirishima’s heart swell. “You alive, man?”
Bakugou coughed out his last giggle, still breathing heavy before giving Kirishima a lazy nod. Kirishima giggled, gently climbing off the boy and laying down beside him on the bed. Bakugou brought his hands up to rub at his still flushed face, and Kirishima couldn’t keep his eyes off of him. The red-head was grinning ear-to-ear, and he could tell that under the palms of those calloused hands covering Bakugou’s face, the blonde was too.
After a few more moments of comfortable silence, Bakugou brought his hands down, turning his head to face Kirishima with a small smile still visible, only on the corners of his lips. “You almost killed me, you bastard.”
“Sorry, you were...you were just really cute like that. I’ve never seen you giggle before,” Kirishima chuckled sheepishly, eyeing Bakugou’s nearly forgotten drink still sitting on the nightstand. He pointed over to it, Bakugou’s following the direction of his finger. “You should probably get a drink, you were laughing pretty hard there.”
Bakugou huffed, his cheeks flushing only slightly at the comment, but he still rolled over to grab the drink and turn back around to face the redhead. “Shut up, I can’t help it.”
“Yeah, I know...too ticklish for your own good, huh?” Kirishima snickered, Bakugou punching his shoulder playfully while taking a sip of his milk. Kirishima rubbed the spot Bakugou punched with a grin. “I’m being serious, though. You really did look cute like that.”
Bakugou’s eyes refused to meet Kirishima’s. His hands cupped tightly around the bottle in his lap, thumbs fiddling with the plastic wrapper encasing it. Kirishima could see how flustered he looked despite their eyes not meeting and he almost felt a little guilty. But Bakugou finally glanced up towards Kirishima, and for the first time ever, the blonde looked...shy. “Do you really think that or are you trying to fuck with me right now? Cause it’s not very nice to fucking flirt with someone if you don’t mean it.”
Kirishima’s eyes widened a little at his bluntness to call it what it was; flirting. “Well, y-yeah. Yeah I meant it. For real,” Kirishima said, but he could tell Bakugou wasn’t sure if he meant it. Kirishima furrowed his brows, cupping Bakugou’s chin gently like he had while attacking the boy just minutes ago, turning his head so their eyes would meet. He stared intently at him, making sure his expression was as genuine as a person could be. “I’m serious, Bakugou. I...I think you’re really attractive,” Kirishima saw how Bakugou’s eyes moved, how he felt frozen under his touch but still somehow looked like he wanted to squirm. “You’re cute and super manly, which I didn’t even know could be a real combination until I met you. You’re...you’re my favorite person, Bakugou.”
They sat like that for a moment. Kirishima brought his hand back down to rest in his own lap, but their eyes never left each other. That was, until, Bakugou’s eyes drifted downward towards Kirishima’s lips. Kirishima’s heart faltered for a minute at the gaze, feeling hair standing up at the back of his neck. Bakugou’s eyes darted back up to Kirishima, a tilt forward in his head that asked Kirishima ‘is this okay?’ Kirishima just nodded with half-lidded eyes, before Bakugou slowly leaned forward, his own eyes closing as their faces finally met in the middle when Kirishima pushed his own head forward.
Their lips brushed shyly against one another, as if cautious and unsure if this was an okay thing to do, before Kirishima pushed into it, forcing their lips together. Bakugou brought a hand up to cup at Kirishima’s cheek, Kirishima doing the same to Bakugou. Bakugou felt like he was going to melt, or explode, or disintegrate or...or just keep kissing Kirishima until he couldn’t breathe.
After what felt like an eternity, they pulled apart, breathless and hazy. Kirishima opened his eyes first, and when Bakugou opened his and looked at Kirishima with those shy little eyes he didn’t have before, Kirishima couldn’t help but dissolve into a fit of giggles. His laugh was always too contagious, damnit, and before he knew it Bakugou was giggling along with him and he didn’t even know why.
When he finally caught his breath, Kirishima slumped back against the pillows of Bakugou’s bed, Bakugou following him to lay there and stare questioningly. “Sorry, sorry, it’s just...you tasted like strawberry milk.”
Bakugou paused for a moment, before chuckling, shoving at Kirishima playfully as they both snickered. “You’re a fucking dork.”
“Hm, maybe,” Kirishima giggled as he brought his face back closer towards Bakugou’s, meeting their lips once again in a soft kiss that lasted forever.
Kirishima would definitely have to thank Mr. Bakugou later for that helpful information about his son, because now their night tasted like strawberry milk and giggles, and Kirishima didn’t want anything else in the entire world than just that.
. . .
A/N : hope you guys enjoyed that, sorry its so fucking long LMAOO i got very carried away. it took me a while to write and ive got a fucking headache so imma go lay down now, MUCH LOVE!! <33
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space-helen · 3 years ago
Text
Sweep
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Words: 1460
Pairing: Nick Stokes x Reader
A/N: Not proof read again but I wanted to get something out for you all. I hope you enjoy! :)
Request: Maybe a dangerous situation, someone hurt, protective I dunno.I just like to read more nick x reader ^^ - @pumpkinfriend
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The house was cold and uninviting. An eerie silence echoed throughout the property. You followed the police officer ahead of you into the room the victim lay, Nick a couple of steps behind you.
The police officer gestured to the body “We’ll be outside. Call if you need us.” and with that they were gone.
You looked around the study for a moment. “Interesting house layout.” you commented
Nick agreed “Study leads into the bedroom. No living area.”
“Maybe studying was his way of life.”
The man laughed and started to snap pictures of the man in his desk chair. Taking another look you could clearly see the gunshot wound to his head. “It was reported an hour ago right?”
The man nodded “yeah. Reported when neighbours heard the shots. Officers were the first to find his body, still waiting on Superdave to arrive.”
“Poor guy.” you snapped pictures of the photo frames nearby. The shelves looked like they’d been rummaged through. “Looks like he was close with who I can only assume were his parents.”
“He’s really young too. Officer said twenty three.”
“Nice place for a twenty three year old.” you commented “A big collection too. You don’t often see someone this young with material like this.” you gestured to some books on the shelf. “You’ve got it covered here?”
Nick nodded “Yeah, yeah. You take the bedroom.”
You moved across the room through the door into the bedroom. You took in your surroundings and snapped pictures. The man had lived what seemed to be a very clean, and organised lifestyle.
You noticed a drawer in the bedside table open, taking a picture of it, you carefully moved towards it and opened it. Snapping a picture of the inside you noticed that it was unorganised, a huge contrast to the rest of the room. You contemplated moving through to the previous room to grab print powder when you noticed that the wardrobe door was slightly ajar. You could have sworn it wasn’t when you’d come into the room.
Looking through the photos on your camera a cold chill went through your spine “Nick it looks like we have a ghost in here.” you nervously called. But just as the words left your mouth an arm was around your neck and you were being pushed harshly into the wall. 
You fought against the man’s grasp and he tugged at your camera that was around your neck to bring you close to him. Wrapping his arm around your neck he squeezed, slowly cutting off your air. Kicking and scratching at the man you finally got free and called for Nick. You were unsure if he even heard you.
The man grabbed you again and pushed you harshly to the floor. You felt a vase smash beneath you on your way down, it must have been knocked over in the struggle. You got to your feet and attempted to move away again.
“Y/N?” Nick instantly reached for his gun when he saw the sight in front of him but instead of drawing it he rushed to break up the fight. 
Amongst the struggle between the three you were pushed into the wall and hit your head. Sinking to the floor the realisation your legs and hand were bleeding settled in even though the fight before you was still underway.
Nick pushed the man into a corner and drew his gun. “Hands up. I said hands up.” The man obliged and Nick called for the officers. “Smart move pal.” Nick spat as two officers dragged him away. 
The original officer who’d shown you into the property hung back to talk to Nick. “I’m sorry, we did a sweep of the property but-”
“Well now you know for next time to do it better.” he came across slightly patronising “I’m sorry I didn’t mean it like that. Accidents happen, just don’t let it happen again.”
“I understand.” was all the officer said before disappearing. 
Nick quickly made his way over to you. “Y/N? You good?” he took in your features, you were really beat up.
“I’ve been better.” you tried to laugh but it sounded pathetic.
“The first aid kit’s in the other room let me grab it.” The man pushed some hair behind your ear before running into the next room and returning with the first aid supplies. “Now let’s see what I can do before we get you some real medical help shall we.”
You laughed.
“Alright. Show me your hand I can see it’s bleeding.”
You obliged “I cut it on the vase. I think. Also got my leg too but I haven’t checked it out… I’m scared too. It feels bad.” 
He nodded “Your hand doesn’t look too bad just some scrapes.” he gestured to your trouser leg “May I?” you nodded and he rolled it up.
You winced at the pain and he apologised “It’s ok.” you squeeze your eyes tight. How bad is it?” you could feel the warm wetness on your knee.
“It’s not nothing. I’ll clean it up a little but I think you have some glass in there. I don’t want to mess with it too much but I’ll do my best.”
“Thank you.”
The man got to work on your knee. During a particularly painful part you reached up and grabbed his shoulder. The man allowed you to squeeze it.
“Alright that’s all done. Anything else?”
“I hit my head pretty bad.” you admitted “It hurts a lot.” the splitting pain from initially hitting it had eased slightly but it was still bad. 
“Feel sick? Drowsy?”
“No, it just hurts.” 
“Alright.” he nodded to himself “What a ghost hey?”
You genuinely laughed this time. 
“Now that’s what I like to see. Alright, let’s get you to the hospital.”
“The scene-”
“We technically can’t take it anymore because of this little…” he words trailed off.
“Yeah, yeah I knew that.” you shook your head “I’m sorry I just forgot.”
“Hey, don’t be sorry.”  He gave you a sad smile as he packed away the supplies. “Ready to stand?”
You nodded “I might need some help” The man got to his own feet in front of you.
“That’s ok.” he put his hands out and you took them gratefully. “On three. One, two, three.”
On his count you got to your feet and he supported you. As you stood you attempted to take some uneasy steps.
“It’s alright I’ve got you.” he reassured. 
You smiled as he slipped a bag strap over his shoulder. “We’ll stop at the hospital first then go back to the lab.”
“Sounds good to me.” 
The man kept you close and supported you as you walked out to the car, he helped you into the passenger's seat before throwing his kit into the trunk and slipping into the driver's seat.
The journey to the hospital was quiet, and he kept looking at you throughout to make sure you were awake and ok. Although you said you were fine he couldn’t help but worry.
Nick parked up the car and was at your side instantly opening the door and helping you out. He sat you down in the waiting area before registering you into the emergency room it didn’t take long for someone to call you into a room. Nick stayed silent and by your side the entire time, watching the Doctor clean and dress the wound appropriately.
“That’s you all set. I’d suggest staying away from heavy work or even taking the rest of the day off. Rest the leg and let it heal.”
And with that you were being sent away from the busy emergency room. 
“Back to the lab or home?” Nick offered, knowing which you would pick.
“Lab. I need to make myself useful in some way. Even if it’s just looking at footage or research.”
“Thought so.” he smiled “You just won’t stop will you?”
“Stopping isn’t in my nature.”
“You know they’re going to try and force you to take time off and give you the ‘don’t push yourself’ talk right?”
“I know I just can’t be home alone. I feel like I’m wasting my time.”
“I get that.” there was a pause “but seriously if you need some time off and want company take it and I’ll take some time as well.”
You took a second and thought it over “I can’t ask you to do that.” 
“Yes you can.” he laughed “We’ll get some take out and watch a movie.”
“Only if I can pick. The last movie we watched was terrible.”
“In my defence Greg picked out that movie.”
“True. We have another movie night with him tomorrow so you better pick a good one.” you teased.
“Only the finest.” 
Tag List: (open)
Nick Stokes: @wanniiieeee​  @pumpkinfriend
CSI:
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ncssian · 3 years ago
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A Favor: Part Twenty-Four
Nessian Modern AU
Masterlist
a/n: a short update resolving where we left off last week, to be soon followed by another gwynriel bonus scene. after that i am never going off the tracks of my fic outline ever again.
***
Nesta is going to commit murder. She really is.
Gwyn is the first to hop out of bed, rapidly tugging her T-shirt down to cover her bare girl parts. “I can explain—” she starts.
“You.” Nesta points at Azriel, who’s still sitting shirtless and confused. “You. What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“Be more specific.” Azriel slides off the bed and picks up a pair of panties from the ground, trying to hand them to Gwyn. Gwyn smacks his hand away, but the sight enrages Nesta all the same.
She nods to herself, her thoughts whirling. “Actually, I’m really glad you’re here,” she says. “I was considering sparing you, but now my mind is made up.” She rushes at Azriel without warning.
“Whoa, whoa, wait!” Gwyn jumps in front of a wide-eyed Azriel, arms outstretched to fend Nesta off.
Nesta reaches past Gwyn’s shoulder and jumps, trying to grab Azriel, hit him, anything. “My sister and my best friend?” she seethes, batting at him. “My sister and my best friend?”
“The hell are you going on about?” Azriel snaps over Gwyn’s head.
“You really have no shame, do you?” Nesta succeeds in pushing Gwyn out of her way, and comes up chest to chest with Azriel, all fiery glares. “You think you can get away with whatever you want because you’re the cool uncaring one, and you probably can, but not with me. We’re the same person, jackass.”
Before Azriel can respond, slim arms grab Nesta around the waist and start dragging her backwards into the hallway. Gwyn lets go of Nesta and slams the door shut after them, leaving Azriel inside the room alone.
“This is way too much for me to be doing without underwear!” Gwyn yells at her. “Will you please explain yourself?”
“What do I have to explain? He should be explaining himself!” Nesta flings her arm toward the bedroom. It’s not like Azriel is any random hookup of Elain’s. He’s also Nesta’s friend, and Nesta expected better from him.
Gwyn drops her head and rubs her freckled temples in exhaustion. “It’s not like I wasn’t there, too. Are you even going to ask why we were together? Do you have any questions at all, or are you just going to break into my home and assume he took advantage of me?”
Nesta shuts her mouth. She didn’t ask any questions, did she? She hasn’t even considered Gwyn’s part in this.
She clears her throat, her voice strained from shouting. “I thought you were at work.”
“Clearly I’m not.” Gwyn crosses her arms, then immediately drops them to readjust her short T-shirt.
Nesta bites. “Why? How? Since when did you guys even talk to each other?” Even after catching Azriel flirting on their ski trip, Nesta couldn’t have predicted that he and Gwyn would end up here. It’s far too much of a leap.
“It’s really not what you think it is.” Gwyn twists a piece of ruddy hair between her fingers. “He’s just… helping me get back into the dating pool. We made an agreement, and he’s doing me a huge favor.”
Nesta’s jaw drops. “By eating you out?”
Gwyn’s teal eyes meet hers. “I can’t ever have a chance with Max if I freak out when he eventually tries to take my clothes off. Especially when I want him to take my clothes off. So I decided after the ski lodge that I needed to get comfortable with sex again, and I… recruited Az to help.” She shrugs like it’s nothing.
Nesta is left with more questions than before. “So,” she holds up a hand, “the thought of doing it with Azriel doesn’t scare you? Not even a little?”
Gwyn scoffs. “If I didn’t know him from elementary school, then it probably would. Unfortunately, I’ve firsthand seen the guy shove crayons up his nose.” She casts a glance toward the bedroom door and lowers her voice. “And I honestly don’t have any proof that he doesn’t still do it.”
That’s—unfortunately understandable. It also explains why Azriel has been comfortable with Gwyn from the start, though Nesta doesn’t know why Gwyn didn’t tell anyone about their shared history.
“Look, Nesta, I know he’s your roommate,” Gwyn continues, “but I think you overreacted a little back there.”
Right. Does Gwyn even know about Azriel and Elain? “It wasn’t because of you,” Nesta tries to explain. “It was because—”
Before she can finish, the door clicks open and Azriel comes out, thankfully clothed in his shirt and gym shorts. He slides his hands into his pockets and says, “I’m joining before any more unflattering things can be said about me.”
Nesta’s lip curls into a sneer at the sight of him. “I wouldn’t let you run away from me anyway.” She crosses her arms and faces him down. “You agreed to teach Gwyn how to get comfortable with sex?”
The hallway is crammed now with Azriel’s height taking up most of the space, but he doesn’t seem to care as he leans against the wall and answers, “Hell yeah.”
Nesta is more than suspicious and untrusting right now, but she pauses to wonder: does Azriel know why Gwyn has such trouble with intimacy in the first place?
It’s none of her business, she decides. Except now she’s even more wary. “What do you get out of this little deal, huh? Or do you just volunteer to have sex with my friends out of the goodness of your heart?”
“I’m getting guitar lessons out of it,” he says without hesitating. “But it’s also the goodness of my heart.” He smirks.
Gwyn throws a surprised look in his direction. Nesta is more than ready to smack the smirk off his face with her bare hand, but she settles for her words instead. “What would Elain say if she knew, Azriel?”
Azriel’s face goes cold. “She has nothing to do with this.”
“I wish she didn’t,” Nesta says. “Explain why I have to comfort her when she wonders why you abandoned her without even a text message while you get to play around with my friends without a care in the world?”
Azriel might as well be made of stone. “You talked to her?”
“You’re a coward,” she hisses. “Do what you want, but know that you’re a coward until you explain yourself to her.” Nesta lets out a ragged breath and drags her stare to Gwyn.
Gwyn shakes her head quickly and raises her hands in defense. “I’m just trying to get laid. Don’t bring me into this.”
Nesta pats her arm. “Of course not, babe.” The last thing she wants is Gwyn involved with either of her sisters—which is why it would be preferable if Gwyn avoided Azriel altogether.
Gwyn lets out a big “Phew,” and cuts an unreadable look toward Azriel. He avoids her gaze.
“Let me get you a drink,” Gwyn says quickly to Nesta, starting to steer her toward the kitchen. Nesta shakes her off and steps away. “It’s okay; I’ll leave now. Also, I can see your—” She waves at Gwyn’s lower half.
Gwyn chuckles awkwardly and tugs her shirt back down, her cheeks flaring red. “I’ll go get your sweater.” She rushes back inside her room, leaving Nesta and Azriel alone in the hall.
Azriel says nothing, but Nesta stares him down until Gwyn returns wearing a pair of shorts and carrying Nesta’s sweater. “Here, I already washed it for you.”
Nesta breaks her gaze with Azriel to take her sweater. “Sorry for breaking into your room,” she tells Gwyn. “I didn’t mean to ruin your…” She nearly gags trying to finish her sentence, so she doesn’t bother. Instead, she turns back to Azriel. “I’m excited to see how those guitar lessons pay off. You’ll give us all a performance when this is over, hm?”
He doesn’t bother responding, and Nesta takes her leave.
***
“I still can’t believe him,” Nesta is grumbling while she and Cassian get ready for bed. “How long is he going to stay in the reading nook like that? I can’t get to my books and he knows it.”
“He’s punishing himself since you won’t,” Cassian says as he towels off his damp hair. Water droplets speckle his bare chest. “He won’t go back to his room as long as he feels guilty about Elain.”
Once Nesta decided that getting vengeance for Elain’s broken heart would do more harm to the cabin ecosystem than good, she chose to contain her anger at Azriel by pretending that he simply didn’t exist. As for Azriel… Azriel has been sleeping on the loveseat in the upstairs reading nook for the past five days. The two of them haven’t spoken since Nesta caught him in Gwyn’s bedroom.
Cassian himself has many thoughts about the choices Azriel has been making lately, and a part of him knows it would be easier for everybody if he just forced Az’s sorry ass back to Velaris. But Nesta is involved in this, too, and she has yet to give the order to kick Azriel out. Rather, she seems content to either ignore him or to burn judgmental stares into him.
Out of love for Azriel, Cassian can’t help but be relieved.
Nesta scoffs in response to Cassian, slathering lotion onto her legs. “Bullshit. He’s punishing me by taking away my reading nook, the bastard.” Done with her legs, she searches around the bed for her glasses, squinting because she can’t see a thing.
Withholding his amusement, Cassian goes over to her and plucks her glasses from the top of her head, sliding them onto her face. She blinks and gives a rare smile up at him when she realizes she can see again, then soon frowns as she casts her gaze about the room. “Where’s my book? Did I leave it at home again?”
Cassian knows Nesta calls the apartment home out of old habit, but it still makes jealousy sting in his chest. “I’ll get you another one,” he offers. “What do you want?”
She gives him the title for something that has to do with erotic Vikings that he immediately recognizes. It’s on the top shelf in the reading nook. He promises to return with the book.
The rest of the cabin is dark by now, but Az is still wide awake and staring up at the wooden beams that criss-cross the ceiling when Cassian sneaks into the nook. Moonlight coming in through the glass door leading to the balcony illuminates both of them.
Cassian doesn’t know whether to feel exhausted or irritated, so he passes by his brother without a word to look for the book.
He already confronted Azriel earlier about what the hell was wrong with him, and got nothing out of the man. Not even an apology. At which point Cassian wanted to beat some sense into him the way they used to during their school days, but restrained himself through some godly miracle.
He’s trying—really trying—not to shove his nose into Azriel’s decisions like that. If he does, he’ll end up being just as bad as Rhys.
Finding the worn paperback boasting a shirtless Nordic god on the cover, Cassian turns to leave.
“You know Nesta can get her books herself, right?” Az’s voice sounds velvety in the darkness.
Cassian bristles. “Don’t start.”
“You mad at me too?”
Yes, Cassian is mad. Mad that he seems to be the only brother with a working brain anymore. “When do you plan on getting your shit together?” he says.
“How?” Az replies. “By apologizing to Elain or by leaving Nesta’s friend alone?”
Cassian still can’t wrap his mind around the fact that the Gwyn who used to shy away from talking to him ran straight into Azriel’s arms for sex advice. On one hand, good for her. On the other, Cassian wishes she had less messy taste. “Both,” he grits, getting frustrated.
Az shrugs, still staring up at the ceiling. “I’m keeping my promise to Gwyn. No matter what.” He sounds nonchalant, but Cassian knows he’s serious.
His grip on the paperback tightens, because that’s still not a real answer to his question. “I warned you when you moved in that you were walking a thin line, Az. I’ve been nice for the past week, but at some point you’re gonna have to tell me why I shouldn’t kick you out right now and save myself and Nesta the headache.”
Azriel finally meets Cassian’s eyes, and his gaze is unreadable. “Do it, if that’s what you want. I don’t care.”
Cassian’s face darkens with rage. “Just watch me, then.” He leaves before he can throw the book at Azriel’s head.
Back at their bedroom, Nesta takes one look at him and asks, “What happened?”
He tosses the book onto the bed and doesn’t come any closer. “I told Azriel I’d kick him out.”
Her brow furrows in concern. “Will you go through with it?”
No. And Az knows it too, the asshole.
Cassian takes in a shallow breath. “I just want to be a good brother.” It’s why he can’t stop giving Az chances, even when it inconveniences the woman he loves. “I want to be a good brother, a good partner, a good friend. I want to be all those things at once.”
Nesta’s lip quirks up. “You’re definitely better at all that than I am.” She rests her chin on one bent knee and frowns. “What else do you want to be?”
“That’s it.” His shoulders slump. “Nothing else.”
Nesta gives an amused huff. “All those things are for other people, though. Forget me and Azriel; what do you want to be for yourself, Cassian?”
What do you want? Cassian remembers her asking him a long time ago.
That… he doesn’t have an answer for. He rubs the back of his neck and stares at the ground. “I dunno,” he says, trying to sound flippant.
Looking up with a smile, he goes over to Nesta’s side of the bed and crouches at her side. “Who has time to think about all of that, anyway? I’m already happy doing exactly what I do.”
Still frowning, Nesta shifts on the bed so she can better face Cassian on the ground. “Do you really not know?” she says quietly.
Letting his smile drop, Cassian presses his lips into a wavery line.
She takes his face in her cold, thin hands, and he lowers his head onto her lap. A pounding has started up behind his eyes.
“It’s okay if you don’t know,” she says when he doesn’t speak. Her hand travels to the spot between his shoulder blades, and she pats his back in consolation. “You’ll find out. I’ll still be here when you do.”
He doesn’t lift his head, because if he does he might cry, so she keeps patting his back for a long while.
***
The next night Cassian finds himself in the kitchen, as he often does lately. The gnocchi for dinner is missing something, but he can’t tell what it is.
Swiping some pomodoro sauce from his wooden spoon with a finger, he goes over to the kitchen island and holds it out to Nesta. She licks it off his finger and says, “More cream,” before going back to her rant. “But really, does Eris want me to hurt him? Because if he keeps acting like this I’m going to physically hurt him.”
“You should do it if it makes you happy, babe,” Cassian says absentmindedly, more focused on checking the potatoes au gratin in the oven than on their conversation.
Two heavy, heart-attack worthy potato dishes on the same night, all because Nesta was in the mood for it. It sickens Cassian to think of the unhealthiness of it all, but these days it’s like he can’t stop himself from making food. It doesn’t matter whether the meal is fatty or not, as long as it tastes good enough for date nights.
By the time dinner is served and Cassian is settled in next to Nesta at the island, the topic of conversation has moved far away from Eris and law school.
“I used to be a fitness freak,” Cassian says mournfully as Nesta piles more and more cheese-covered potatoes onto his plate.
“Your abs look the same as the day I met you. You’ll be fine.”
Cassian didn’t even think about his abs. He presses a hand to his torso in worry. How long until those are gone, too?
“Eat.” Nesta shoves a fork into his hand and starts to dig into her own plate.
Cassian takes it reluctantly. “You know, this is bad for you too.” He realizes suddenly, “Have I been poisoning your health this whole time?” That’s even worse than the thought of losing his abs.
Nesta’s fork stops halfway to her mouth. The look on her face is disgusted enough to curdle milk, as if Cassian might change his mind and try to take her dinner away. She visibly swallows her feelings back and scoots closer to Cassian, spearing some of his gnocchi on her fork.
“Come on, we’ll clog our arteries together.” She pats his back the way she always does. “We’re here for a delicious time, not a long time.”
Cassian can hardly say no when he’s getting food shoved into his mouth without warning.
But despite his defeat with dinner, he’s joined by a sleepy and irritable Nesta the next morning in the home gym. She refuses to speak a word to him at such an early hour, but her compromise is loud and clear when she begins stretching and warming up. She’ll be here while he figures out whatever it is he wants to be for himself.
***
a/n: what do y’all think. is cassian overreacting, is nesta overstepping, or are they right and azriel is a menace who needs to be stopped (asking bc sometimes i cant tell when my mcs are being annoying)
tagging: @hellasblessed @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @wannawriteyouabook @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @planet-faerie @shallowhighwaters @ghostlyrose2 @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes @readiajin @nessiantrashh @live-the-fangirl-life @ifinallygavein @xoblivisci @sjmships @jungtaekwoonie-is-life @lysandra-tiara @lanyjoy-13 @post-it-notes33 @loosingdreams @fromthelibraryofemilyj @18moneytoad @dontgetsalmonella @champanheandluxxury @togreblog @arinbelle @ladygabrielli1997 @meridainthedisneyland @moodymelanist @pixieelea
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boymeetsweevil · 3 years ago
Text
Call me maybe
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Grouping: Reader x Namjoon
Word Count: ~6.59k
Warnings/Themes: Club meet-cute AU, 1% angst +99% suggestive fluff, (legal!) alcohol consumption, language, flirting anxiety(?)
Summary: It all started with a stupid drinking game...
A/N: this is the One Direction wattpad-style fanfic that's been haunting me for so long. beware of that and the fact that this is unedited hahaha...
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“You know the rules, girls. Whoever wins this round of rock-paper-scissors is It.”
You and your three friends, warm and bubbly from 2 rounds of shots at this point in the evening, assume your battle stances and stick your hands into the center of your table. Four hands make a square over the scattered layer of empty decorative shot glasses from the bar in the club.
There’s an air of electric excitement that comes with this game, lovingly nicknamed Hunter-Gathering. Whoever is It gets a target and has to pursue that target in hopes of bringing ‘home’ free drinks for everyone the rest of the night. But no matter how attractive the target is, you can't ever bring them home.
“Wait, wait!” Lia chimes in. “I can’t be It this time. I did it twice already and my ass still hurts from the last time.”
Dani nods seriously. “Fair enough. That means the odds are upped for the rest of you.”
“So, we’re just gonna ignore that ass thing,” another friend, Alexa, looks around the table with confused eyes.
“Do you actually want me to give you the details?” Lia smiles slowly at her from across the table.
Alexa’s face brightens with her own smile, worry evaporated. “You know what? I don’t! Never mind.”
The game begins and somehow you find yourself the lone rock amongst two pairs of scissors. Alexa and Dani laugh with relief because they don’t have to put in any work tonight. You roll your eyes to the heavens and silently question your karma.
“Are you ready to pick your target?”
“I don’t really have a choice, do I?”
“Nope!” Dani grins.
She steps forward and grabs a clean face mask out of her clutch bag and wraps it around your eyes, careful not to muss your makeup or hair. Three pairs of hands rest on your shoulders and you let them spin you lightly around a few times. Not enough to get you dizzy but just enough to make sure you don’t know what direction you’re facing anymore.
“Alright,” Dani’s voice sounds out over the music of the club. “Take your pick!”
You stick your hand out blindly and someone unties the makeshift blindfold. Everyone follows the line your hand makes all the way to a tall figure standing by the side of the bar.
He’s probably the most handsome man any of you have seen in a while. There's an intimidating aura emanating from him. You figure it's the understated all-black outfit complete with the heinously expensive watch he's wearing and the sheer height of him as he towers over people near him at the bar.
“Oh my god,” Dani whispers as you all take in the stranger’s face.
“We can finally get top shelf vodka,” Alexa pretends to wipe a tear from the corner of her eye.
“Not bad,” Lia hums in appreciation.
“Okay, why is everyone acting like I bagged him already?” Your voice grows high with nerves. “I'm pretty sure I have, like, a 2% chance of interesting him."
“What are you so worried about?” Dani crosses her arms at you. “Just do whatever you did to get those history nerds to help you out that one time."
"This is not the same thing. Those guys parted their hair 90/10 unironically and thought Diva Cups are for when you don't want to hold your pee when you stand in line for roller coasters."
"You're kidding," Lia gasps. You wish you were.
"Well, just pretend he's one of them anyway." Dani suggests, "Every guy is the same."
You can't argue with that logic.
“I mean, I can try flirting with him, but he’s probably so used to people throwing themselves at him. I don’t think anything I do would, like, make a dent, you know?”
“Babe, no. No—listen to me, okay?” Alexa takes you by the shoulders and forces you around so you can see how serious she is.
“Tonight is the last free night of vacation. After tonight, we have less than a day to get over our hangovers, pack up the Airbnb, and then catch our 6am flight back home to start the spring term. Our last night of freedom lies in your hands.”
“But, what if—”
“No ‘but’s. Do you see yourself? Do you see your skin in this fresh white two piece? Have you seen how your tits look in this off the shoulder top? That poor man doesn’t stand a chance!”
Lia murmurs her agreement in the background and Dani mentions something about fearing for the guy's soul. You think about the freakishly good pictures you all took in the stylish club bathroom when you first arrived.
“I see your point.”
You turn back toward the bar to review your target. He sips from a dark green bottle as he looks around at the people on the dance floor between your table and the bar. As he continues to scan the room, he locks eyes with you. You hold his gaze even though your instincts are screaming at you to duck for cover. Surprisingly, he gives a small smile and raises his bottle in salute.
"See, you got the hardest part down already. Just fake the rest until you make it."
You chance a look back in his direction only to catch him staring in the direction of the table. When he catches your gaze again, he whips his head away, cheeks tinging pink under the soft yellow lighting at the bar.
Alexa cackles and starts detailing all the drinks she wants made with the top shelf vodka. Lia and Dani discuss leaving early to go back and clean up the apartment so it’s clean in case you break the rules and bring this guy back for the night.
“Uh, aren’t you guys moving a little fast?”
“Aren’t you moving a little slow,” Alexa counters.
“Hold on, Lex.” Dani turns to you. “You know you don’t actually have to do this if you don’t want to, right? Hunter-Gathering is just a game, there's no pressure.”
For all their poking and teasing, you're reminded right then and there that your friends would never put you in a situation where they thought you were actually at any risk. The weight you felt on your shoulders lightens somewhat.
“No, no, I definitely still want to play, I just don’t want you guys to get your hopes up.”
“I believe in you.”
Lia bumps shoulders with you quietly. She’s not the most affectionate, so you know she really means it.
“I’ll do my best.”
You let them tweak you a little bit, fixing stray hairs and wiping away smeared lip gloss and hiking up your skirt, giving you their drink orders, before you grab your purse and phone and push in your stool.
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When you finally make it to the bar, he’s in the same spot as you first found him in. He spots you once you get close enough and naturally makes room for you. You set your bag on the bar countertop before hopping up on the empty stool immediately in front of him. The movement causes your skirt to ride up even more and you’re glad you only let Lia hike it up one inch instead of three.
Dani's advice about treating this guy like any other scrub from school reverbs in the back of your head right as the nerves start to set in. With the guys in your art history class, your grade was on the line. There was no room for hesitation when you could barely draw a stick figure, much less write an essay analyzing what an old painting style could tell you about the dairy economy in a certain town like some of your classmates were doing. It was because you were desperate that you were suddenly able to transform into a femme fatale. It also helped that these guys quivered at any interaction with an adult woman.
Tonight's drinks are on the line, you tell yourself. As best you can, you try to trick yourself into entering the same mindset you were in when you would lay on the charm extra thick for the art history guys.
You let the corner of your mouth lift up in a coy smile while you survey the bar. The bartender is moving back and forth quickly to handle the high demand. A second later the girl next to you leaves her spot with a tray of 8 bright pink drinks, practically glowing in the dark. You wonder briefly if you should try to get a round of those for the table.
“—one of those before?”
His voice is deep and pleasant. When you give him a look over your shoulder, you have to suppress a gasp. Up close he's even more handsome. You really have your work cut out for you.
“What?"
"That neon pink drink," he nods back in the direction of the girl who'd taken the cotton candy pink drinks with her. "I was wondering if you'd tried them before."
“No, I haven’t,” you smile, letting your lips part slowly. His eyes dart from your painted eyes to the colored stretch of your mouth and then quickly back up. “Have you?”
“No. But I like to try new things.”
You purse your lips as if in thought, something you've seen other girls do while flirting with guys at school. “You must be pretty unpredictable, then.”
“Huh? Well, I wouldn’t say that.” He stammers a bit and nearly drops his beer bottle trying and failing to put it down. All the intimidation you felt coming from him earlier seems to have disappeared.
“I was just kidding.”
Like it has a mind of its own, your hand reaches out to rest on his arm reassuringly while you continue to laugh at him. His features clear up then and a relieved smile blooms on his face, bringing out an adorable dimple with it.
“You’re teasing me,” he realizes with a good natured huff and steps into your touch.
“You seem kinda fun to tease.” You let your hand linger a little longer before finally pulling it back.
“It’s kinda fun. You're pretty good at it.”
Oddly enough, this isn't as difficult for you as you thought it was going to be. In fact, you find yourself naturally tilting your head and fixing him with an intrigued look from under your lashes. He takes the opportunity to look you over as well, a small smile on his lips.
The personal attention does make you a little nervous despite the fact that it’s positive. So you dig in your purse to avoid looking directly at him for too long and to give your hands something to do. You brush up against a tube of lip gloss, pull it out, and reapply some to your lips.
You look back at him when you realize he’s grown quiet, only to find him following the movements of the gloss brush tracing the curve of your lips, cheeks dusted pink and eyes half-closed like he's in some sort of trance.
Experimentally you press your lips together and then purse them to make sure the gloss is distributed evenly. The man doesn't blink once. Suddenly, all his expensive apparel and large stature aren’t so intimidating.
"Is there something on my face," you smirk.
He slow blinks down at your mouth twice before realizing you're speaking again. His eyes grow wide and he raises a ringed hand to rub at the back of his neck. The movement rustles the hair covering his ears, revealing their pink tips. Cute.
"Just looking."
You laugh a little at him again. He marvels at the way the club lighting dances around in your glossy smile.
"So, how come I've never seen you here before?"
"Well...it's the first time me and my friends have come here."
"I see." He pivots to face you and leans his closest elbow on the counter of the bar. "Are you guys new to the area?"
"You could say that, yeah."
He raises an eyebrow when you don’t elaborate. Without looking away, he raises his hand to signal to the bartender that he wants another drink. When the bartender runs right over, you realize this guy actually might be a big deal. Silently you pull your card out of your wallet as the bartender makes their way over. You figure you’ll have to spend some money before you can really ask someone like him to buy drinks for your table.
"What'll it be,” the bartender asks.
"Two of those pink drinks please," he says and before you can place any order the bartender zooms away.
While the bartender starts preparing the drinks, you turn toward him.
"Who said I wanted the pink drink?"
He grins down at you, a dimple now popping up in each cheek. "Who said it's for you?"
"I'm pretty sure it's for me."
"And what makes you so sure?" He takes a step closer to you.
"Just a hunch," you hum before crossing your legs.
The white fabric of your skirt hikes up your thighs again with the movement. You smooth your palms over the soft material.
"Nice skirt."
"Yeah? You like it?"
"I like it," he admits quietly.
"And the top?" You gesture toward the pair of straps on the matching tube top, manicured nails gliding over your décolletage. He wets his lips.
"The top too."
He reaches out one large hand to one of the straps that have fallen over your shoulder. The drag of his fingers against your bare arm as he fixes it makes you shiver. You lament the loss of contact when pulls his hand back.
The bartender arrives with your drinks then, startling the both of you out of the little staring competition that had spontaneously started. The pink drink seems to glow from within, topped with whipped cream and full of little round ice cubes made from some sort of darker rose syrup floating in the liquid like lava in a lava lamp. The color barely prepares you for the thick sweetness that floods your mouth on the first sip.
"Oh, that's kinda..."
He huffs a laugh around his own first swallow and nods in agreement.
"Not what you wanted?"
"It's just really sweet. You like it?”
He shrugs. “It’s alright. But—"
The way he cuts himself off has you confused for a moment before he's reaching towards you cautiously. You're not too sure what's going on until you feel the pad of his thumb swipe over the corner of your lips carrying away some of the whipped topping from the drink. Your eyes widen when instead of wiping the cream on one of the cocktail napkins available on the counter he brings his thumb to his own lips. In a fraction of a second the cream is gone, but you're left feeling a rush of fluttering warmth on the side of your mouth and in the center of your chest.
"You think your friends would like these?” He slides his drink to the side so he can lean on his elbow and turn to you again. Now's your chance.
“Um, I don’t think this is really their style.”
“What is their style?”
You rattle off their drinks of choice, making sure to mention their favorite brands with a sigh. Of course, whenever you play this game, the brands can change depending on the budget of whoever’s buying. This time, you make sure to name drop as much as possible, per Alexa's request.
“Sounds like your friends really know what they like.”
“Yeah, they have really…unique tastes.” You falter a little under his amused stare. “But we don’t always drink that way. I mean, not every bar even carries all those to begin with.”
“That’s true.” He nods. “This bar has every single of them, though. Pretty lucky, huh?”
“Yep,” you chirp. You’re not sure if you’re in trouble or not because he’s still smiling. He seems to be onto the game, but doesn’t seem bothered by it.
“Well, it would be a shame not to welcome you all to the city. Get whatever you want. My treat.”
“Are you sure?”
You place your hand on his arm again and squeeze for good measure. You don’t miss the way his large bicep flexes under your touch. After a beat, he brings his hand up to grasp yours and holds it while signaling to the bartender again. You give him a blindingly bright smile and he strokes his thumb over your knuckles.
He asks the bartender to ‘take care’ of your table tonight on him, and you realize then that you’ve won the game. The victory isn't nearly as sweet as the pink drinks from earlier. The rules prohibit you from bringing him home or going over to his place. And even if it wasn't prohibited, your vacation is basically over.
“Where are you and your friends from?
You take his hand between yours and play with some of the rings on his fingers. They’re beautiful together in an eclectic way and you wonder if someone chose them for him.
“It’s a kind of small city, not like this one. It’s really just our university and then a few surrounding towns.”
“What made you guys move here then?"
"Oh, Right." You feel guilty. "Me and my friends are just here for vacation."
He blinks at you but takes the news in stride. "Well, if you want—I know the city pretty well since I have a place here—maybe I can give you a tour of the town later this week."
"I'd love that, I really would. But we're actually leaving tomorrow."
"For real?” His eyes grow wide and he looks down at your linked hands before looking over your face. You're shocked to see his features fall.
"Yeah, it sucks."
“Damn,” he smiles bittersweet at the floor. “I wish we’d bumped into each other sooner.”
“I absolutely agree," the sound of Alexa's voice rings loud in your ear.
“Uh, hello. Did you need me for something?" Your voice is high and tight as you fix her with an accusatory stare. You're not 100% positive, but it seemed like you and he were having a moment.
"No, babe, I just wanted to come over and show you my beautiful drink. I wanted to come show my gratitude to you both for making sure we have a good last night. The girls will appreciate that. Thank you, kind sir."
“Name’s Namjoon. And no need to thank me,” he smiles at the exchange between you two and sticks out his hand. Alexa daintily lays her hand in his and he lets out an incredulous laugh before playing along and raising it to his lips.
"What a gentleman," she coos before pinching lightly at the skin of your exposed back. It's a clear message just for you, telling you that there's about to be a change in plans. "What were you guys discussing?"
"I was actually about to offer up our booth. There's more than enough room for your table if you wanted to move. Me and my team—friends definitely wouldn't mind the company."
“You don’t have to do that!” You pipe up, suddenly shy. But it's quickly dashed away as Alexa pulls out her phone and opens up the groupchat.
"Let me just ask our friends if they’d like that."
You already know the answer, so you sigh quietly and gather up your card, phone, and purse. You can’t say you won’t miss the privacy from when it was just you and Namjoon, but you’re glad to be with your friends again as well.
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The move from your little table to the VIP booth is lightning fast. By the time you get your own drink, Lia and Dani are already clutching their things and vibrating with excitement near the ropes leading to the VIP booth. A few of Namjoon’s friends are chatting with them from the other side of the ropes.
Once your group trickles in, you don't miss how they all arrange themselves in the booth so you're forced to sit on the end next to Namjoon with barely any space. The only options are to let one of your legs hang off the edge of the booth the whole time or sit practically half in his lap. Alexa winks at you over the first sip of her next very expensive drink.
Namjoon's friends are occupied by your friends re-telling some of the more exciting parts of the beginning of your vacation. Some story about how 'someone' lost their top while trying to jet ski. You send a weak glare to Lia as she tries to get them to guess just whose top it was. That's what you get for experimenting with spaghetti strings, you suppose.
"Do you guys like to dance," one of his friends says after a while of vibing to the music once the chatter cools down. Hoseok, you think his name was.
"Yes, definitely." Dani remarks while re-applying lip gloss. "You know who's a great dancer?"
"Who?" Hoseok looks around excitedly.
"She's gonna say me," you groan. "Which is not even true but let’s just all move down there already, no more 20 questions."
"Just one more," she pouts. "Namjoon, do you like to dance?"
He looks down at you once he's also out the booth, that little amused smile back on his lips.
"Well, it's not really part of my day job, but I don't mind it too much."
"What's your day job," you blurt out.
"I'm a...musician."
"A musician!" Alexa rushes over to you to link arms. "Did you hear that? Namjoon’s a musician."
"I don't recognize you," Lia says and Hoseok and another one of his friends burst into quiet laughter behind her.
"You definitely won't find Joon’s pics anywhere, that's for sure," one of his friends says. The rest of them dissolve into another fit of giggles.
The club lights hide the muted pink tinge his cheeks take on, and Namjoon leads the way to the dance-floor with a chagrined roll of his eyes.
"You think he's really a musician?” You whisper to Alexa and Lia. Dani is somewhere up ahead, already dancing.
"Maybe technically. Going off the way his friends keep laughing, he's probably, like, a failed SoundCloud rapper or something."
"No failed SoundCloud rapper wears Gucci like that," Lia motions with her chin to some piece of Namjoon’s outfit.
"That's true," you hum.
"Rich parents," Alexa says simply.
You and Lia consider it and then nod.
As you settle on the dance floor, you feel the rest of your nerves drift away. Lia comes over to take a selfie with you, and the two of you flirt with the camera until she's satisfied with the photos you've taken. She grabs your hand and makes a show of spinning you around and you figure that this is how the night will go before you stumble out around 2 or 3am and drunk pack for the flight home the next morning. You let her lead you back, further into the crowd before you bump into someone.
Namjoon's large hand comes to stabilize you at your waist and Lia acts like nothing happened before dancing away, phone light illuminating her sneaky smile.
"You good?" Namjoon's voice is soft in your ear.
"Y-yeah."
"You wanna dance, or should I let you go?"
Your friends shamelessly all look at the way he curves himself around you, all with their thumbs up in encouragement. You're reminded of the way you did the same a few nights prior when Dani was getting hit on by some cute guy at a different club.
At that time it felt fun hyping her up and watching her make a move, seeing how enamored this random guy was with your friend. Of course he is, you thought at the time, she's amazing. And you remember that this is probably what's driving them tonight as well with you and Namjoon.
You chance a look at him and realize that he's come to rest his cheek lightly near your temple, a soft look in his gaze as he awaits your answer.
"Sure, let's dance."
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Namjoon was telling the truth when he said he wasn't all that into dancing. But he put in enough work to be able to follow you and meet you halfway while you were grinding on him to the music.
Even when you shyly stepped away after the first few dances to return to your squealing friends, you loosened up over time with more music and drinks and found yourself naturally ending up on him again. The first few songs turned into more and more and soon you were face-to-face, with his thigh wedged between yours and a heavy palm on your lower back guiding you to the beat.
You're not sure when you decided to abandon your friends and his, but at some point you did return to the booth under the guise of checking your phones. And you did check your phone first. But soon he was crowding you toward the wall by the booth and leaving you with no air of your own.
"You're really leaving tomorrow," he sighed into a bruise he was trying to leave near the hollow of your throat. "Or did you just say that because I was some creep at a bar."
"I never thought you were a creep."
He looks down at you with disbelief before getting distracted by your kiss-swollen lips.
"I mean it. I'm just a little shy sometimes."
"What do you have to be shy about when you look like this, huh?"
"Stop," you laugh lightly and look away from him.
He'd made a comment earlier about how much he liked the pristine white two piece you wore, but you'd been inching his hand up your skirt then. Now, one of his thumbs rubs an idle pattern just below the curve of your breast.
"No, but seriously. Are you actually leaving tomorrow?"
"Yeah. The new term starts for us all in a few days."
"So, leave in a few days," Namjoon whines.
"That's not enough time to get ready for the term."
"But I'll be so alone without you."
He gives you an exaggerated pout that splits into a real smile when you snort at his stupid expression. He pulls you to him just a smidgen tighter then.
"Does this usually work with other girls?"
"I don't know. Never tried it with other girls," he frowns a little at you.
"Sure."
"You know me and the team almost went to Club BigHit last Saturday?"
"Oh, really? That's kinda funny." You try to imagine what might have happened if he'd come to the same club you went to earlier.
"Yeah," Namjoon's voice grows quiet. "If I hadn't gotten sick then we would have met last week."
"Yeah, maybe."
"You sure you can't miss a few days of the term?"
"Yes, I'm sure." You let out an exasperated laugh. "You can't really be this upset that an actual stranger is just passing through your life."
"No, I know. I just—," he lets his head fall forward until he's touching his forehead to yours. "It was like something clicked when I saw you. I feel like I need more time with you."
"Oh," your voice comes out a little breathier than you expected.
The same look that had flashed across his face when you first came up to him finally gets to rest on his features. You want to let him down gently because you really can't play catch up during the first week of school.
"Tell you what. I can't miss the beginning of the term but if you make a song with my name in it and it gets...say, 50,000 listens, I'll buy a ticket that same day and come meet you. Wherever you are."
He pins you with a look then, inquisitive and dark. His eyes scan your open expression for something, before whatever he finds passes the test. He stands up tall.
"And it just needs to have 50,000 listens?"
In your mind you were thinking it would be too lofty for a failed SoundCloud rapper, but something in his tone sounds like he's rising to the challenge and it makes you nervous. You spent a lot on this vacation, you can't afford to actually fly out so soon if he somehow managed to get the listens and call your bluff. Besides, targets are off limits.
"Um, actually make that 150,000. And it has to have my area code in it too." You rattle off the three digits to him and he quickly types your conditions into the notes app on his phone.
"Is that it?"
"That's it, I guess."
"Deal."
Namjoon pockets his phone and leans back into your space. Any worries you had clawing to the forefront of your mind vanish when he presses soft lips to yours once more.
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A month passes.
You don't end up having a one-night-stand with Namjoon because it wouldn't be fair to your friends when they'd clicked with a target but didn't take them home. That and because Dani got sick on the dance floor from mixing strawberry daiquiri with one too many pink drinks. But you do pass on your full number after he very nearly begs you to give it to him while packing into a cab.
And then he never used it.
It's not that you were expecting much, but when a month passes with not so much as word from him, you figure he forgot about you and your little bet.
Then 2 months pass.
Even though you know that you only spent a fraction of a day with him, you can't help thinking about Namjoon. Namjoon and his pretty eyes and pretty words that made you think there was some sort of connection there. You realize after the first two weeks back that you don't have his number but by the time 2 months pass, you realize that was definitely on purpose.
4 months pass.
You're over it, swamped with end of term work like finals and grading and putting in hours at work. But every time your friends suggest a little fun and hooking you up with someone, every time someone asked for your number at a coffee shop, you said no. Because you're over it and you're busy and not at all disappointed for how hard you fell for the lies some failed SoundCloud rapper fed you on a vacation one time.
19 weeks pass.
You're all in Lia's apartment, basking in the first few days of the end of classes even if it means finals are a few days later. Alexa is playing her favorite playlist on the speakers and you're taking a break to get some coffee going in the small kitchenette.
While the coffee machine starts up you wander back to the main room. Alexa is leaning over to turn the music up, one of her favorite songs just now coming up.
"Who's this again," Dani pipes up from her spot on the couch. "It's that one guy's collab with the Bulletproof Girlscouts, right?"
"Yep," Alexa checks the song title before sighing. "This song is so old now."
"True, but it's my favorite one on the whole album."
"I guess it really has been two years since his last album, huh." Dani muses and then goes back to her practice problem set.
You try not to laugh at how cute Alexa looks sulking because her favorite artist hasn't put out any music in so long.
"Why don't you just play his new stuff," Lia says.
"He's on indefinite hiatus. This is as new as it gets."
Lia picks up her own phone, showing it to the group.
"He released a new single this morning."
"What!"
Alexa scrambles from her seat to grab her headphones and jam them into her phone. You all know how she gets about her music and let her have a moment to soak up the new song while you get up to check on the coffee.
It takes a few minutes to get cups out and put everything together since everyone has different tastes, so you're in the middle of pouring creamer when you hear a chorus of screams.
"Why are we screaming?"
You rush into the main room again only to be bombarded with music from the speaker, this time turned up as high as it can go. What must be the new song comes through the speaker, the bass vibrating on the ground as the speaker pumps.
"Okay, yes, new song. It's good but I don't get—"
"Just listen to the fucking bridge," Dani's voice comes out incredibly shrill as she cuts you off.
The beat surges for the bridge and suddenly the lyrics turn into the artist growling about some girl he met at the club with the prettiest little white outfit he'd ever seen. Saying something that sounds oddly like your name, although you figure that can't be right. But then the next verse has your name in it too, and the next one, and the next one.
Your feet take you to where Alexa's phone is plugged in and you pick up the phone to look at the song. It's indeed a song by her favorite artist, a prolific and mysterious rapper who's never shown his face and who'd been on hiatus from making music. The song title is simple, a small string of numbers that look suspiciously like your area code.
When you let out a tiny gasp, your friends let out more excited shrieks. You ignore them in favor of thumbing through the music app to the artist's page where the new single lies at the top of his discography. To the right of all his songs are the stream counts. Most of his older songs have a few dozen million or so. This brand new one sits at a modest 4 million, but the numbers trickle up as the app updates them in real time.
"What the hell?"
"I know!" Alexa cries, tears shining in her eyes. "I can't believe we sat in a VIP booth with him and I didn't even recognize his stupid voice!"
"What are you gonna do," Dani smiles widely at your stunned face. "Are you gonna call him?"
"I don't have his number," you say simply. Your voice comes out monotone with shock.
"You didn't get his number?" Alexa starts crying for real.
"People are blowing my phone up about this," Lia says once the song ends and begins again on a loop. "You might want to turn off your phone. It's just a matter of time until people start snooping around."
"Right."
You grab your phone from your pocket. On instinct you scan through your socials one last time before turning it off. There's a startling number of texts, calls, emails, and notifications on your social media apps. Curiosity gets the best of you and you open up one of them only to find your name trending as the top hashtag. Clicking on it brings up a bunch of tweets both from fans raving about the new song and wondering who the muse is, to random accounts with identical names in the handle all claiming to be said muse.
"Oh my god, he tweeted!" Dani shoves her phone into your hands.
As of right now [2:38pm] we're at 5.76 million streams. That's more than 150,000...
"What does that mean," she asks you.
"It means...he wants me to fly out to see him. Today."
"Oh my god."
Alexa screams again and at this point you've lost count of how many that is. Lia gets out of her chair and tucks her chin over your shoulder to read the post herself.
"You need to go," Alexa shouts. "I'll help you pack, let's go."
"What about finals?"
"Are you—are you actually thinking of not going because of finals?"
"I mean—"
"If you want me die, just say that," she does something with her mouth that looks like a manic smile.
"What Lex means to say is that this is a once in a lifetime opportunity and I'm sure even the profs would understand."
You're not sure what to say. First of all, you still don't have his number. Second of all, you're not sure how to fight through all the other accounts claiming to be you to let him know you saw the song. Third, you don't even know where to fly to. Fourth—
A Twitter notification chimes from your phone and a deadly hush falls over everyone. You go to your DM inbox with shaking fingers only to find a message request from an unknown sender. When you open the request, it's from Namjoon's agency.
Good afternoon,
You are being contacted today because one of our artists wishes to meet you. If you consent to the meeting, please review the flight information and tentative itinerary below and respond with your address and contact information. Please also note that the travel plans are for today [MM/DD/YYYY], so your response at your earliest convenience would be much appreciated. If you would like to go but cannot make it today—
"Do you think they'll send a car or should I book her a ride to the airport now?" Dani turns to Alexa.
"They'll probably send one to make sure the schedule is followed."
"That's true but what about—"
Lia taps you on the shoulder, startling you out of your stupor.
"There's a convenience store two doors down. Whatever you buy we can put in one of my suitcases and you can just take that. There's probably not enough time to go all the way back to your place."
"I—yeah, okay."
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7 hours later finds Alexa, Dani and Lia finished with studying for the night. The entertainment channel is playing on the TV and the three of them have their heads bent over their phones and laptops, refreshing all the major gossip sites for updates.
"Maybe she's not even there yet," Dani sighs when the page she just refreshed shows no new posts.
"Yeah, I mean we still don't even know where she is," Lia says while putting her laptop to sleep. "What if they made her sign an NDA?"
"Even if they did, she'd probably still tell us once she got there. She's probably just busy killing time on the plane."
"She's sleeping!" Alexa screams a second later.
"Huh? How do you know that?"
"Check his instagram," is all she says before frantically typing a message to you about souvenirs.
Lia looks over at Dani's phone as she pulls up Namjoon's page. The rest of the layout is bare given his up until recent hiatus and the fact that he never posted any type of selfie. The video uploaded a mere 20 seconds ago undoes all the previous minimalism of the entire account.
The post isn't even of Namjoon. It's a black and white 5 second video of the top half of your naked back and shoulders, the rest of your body covered by the sheets. One of your arms is raised to cover your head with a pillow. The only sign of Namjoon is the arm that reaches out from the bottom of the frame, making it clear that he took the video himself. His hand reaches out to trace a heart over the skin of your shoulder blade. The caption reads:
Thanks for keeping your promise
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177 notes · View notes
cobaltusami · 3 years ago
Note
If I'm allowed, could I request another fic? Remember the one I requested before? Maybe a revenge one please? If its fine? Have a good day friend!
Suuuuuurpriiiiise! guess who's back... back again... Cobalt's back, tell a friend~
I've been trying to finish this for fucking AGES. I'm so so sorry for the wait friendo! I hope you like it!
I wanted to release it last week, but I didn't have the time to finish it. :/ but here It Is!
Characters: Lee!Taka, Ler!Mondo, Chihiro, Leon, Makoto, Hiro
Word count: 1994
Pairing: Ishimondo (also some hints of Leon x Lee mood--)
Part one: Merciless
Warning: This is a tickle fic. it's also fluffy asf. you have been warned--
Lesson Learned
Taka went to pull away from him, but Mondo pulled him back against his chest. “Where do ya think you’re going? This Isn’t over.”
“B-But Mondo! You promised you wouldn’t--”
“Uh-uh~ I promised no revenge If you were to let me up at that exact moment. Which you did not.” The biker reminded him teasingly. “Any last words, Kyoudai?”
“W-Wait, M-Mondo-- NOHOHOHO!”
---
Laughter could be heard ringing all throughout the library and even carrying partially down the halls, to say Mondo was being ruthless would be an absolute understatement.
“MOHOHOHOHONDO I’M SOHOHOHORRY!” Taka shrieked, his body spasming underneath the biker.
Mondo, suddenly energized by the sound of his boyfriend’s laughter, grinned down at him. “Ya don’t seem too sorry, Ya can’t even apologize without laughing~”
Taka yelped upon feeling Mondo’s fingers inch down to his belly. “I-I cahahahahan’t hehehehelp It! Ihihihihit tihihihickles!” he blushed, his hands latching onto the teasing appendages uselessly.
“Uh-huh, Sure it does. I think you’re just laughing at me.” He smirked, clawing at Taka’s stomach.
“Ihihihihi would nehehehever!” The hall monitor choked out between fits of laughter.
“Ya sure?”
“Yehehehehes! I’m vehehehery sure!!”
Mondo hummed thoughtfully as his fingers came to a stop. “Aight, but If ya laugh at me for any reason you’re going down.”
Taka relaxed into his arms as his hold loosened, he rested his head against his chest as he recovered from his laughing fit. “U-Understood.”
Just then, the doors to the library swung open and several of their friends poked their heads through the open gap.
“We heard screaming,” Makoto meekly stated. “Are you two okay?”
“Or did we interrupt something?” Leon asked, grinning impishly at the two.
“Obviously they were trying to scare the aliens away, Duh.” Hiro rolled his eyes.
Leon and Makoto both slowly looked up at the clairvoyant.
“I was joking, man.” Leon sighed, both he and Makoto looking at him in exasperation.
Mondo and Taka broke apart from their embrace, the former crossing his arms and fixing them with an annoyed stare. “Don’t you guys have anything else to fuckin’ do?”
Without missing a beat, Leon and Hiro answered simultaneously. “No.”
“S-Sorry, Like I said, We heard screams…” Makoto smiled apologetically. “We were worried.”
“Speak for yourself.” Leon retorted, rolling his eyes. “I was coming in here to tell them to can It. They woke me up.”
“I’m very sorry for the disturbance! I assure you there will be no more outbursts today!” Taka spoke up, his authoritarian voice kicking in.
Mondo blinked as he watched the formerly chill and laughing man become proper and uptight again. He sighed and rolled his eyes fondly at his boyfriend.
As Taka began interrogating the students on how their studies were going, The biker was struck with a wicked idea.
No more outbursts huh?
We’ll see about that.
Throughout the day between daily activities, Mondo would find small excuses to poke at Kiyotaka. For example, stating he had something on his shirt, or as he was passing by him in the halls.
One instance occurred during noon. Taka, Mondo, Leon and Chihiro were hanging out In the kitchen getting snacks, or In Leon’s and Chihiro’s case; finally eating breakfast.
Chihiro was trying to reach something In the cabinet but after a few failed attempts they pouted and gave up their pursuit.
“Is something the matter, Chihiro?” Taka asked, noticing the sudden silence from the smallest one of the group.
“I can’t reach sugar…”
“Yeah, Hiro probably forgot to put it back on the bottom shelf.” Leon shrugged, continuing to pour cereal into a bowl after a brief pause to think.
“Sounds like him alright.” Mondo rolled his eyes.
“No worries, Chihiro! I’ll get it for you!” Taka offered, at the small programmers side before Mondo could get over to them.
“Thank you, Taka!” They smiled brightly at the Ultimate Moral Compass.
Taka went to grab the container, but underestimated how high up It was. “Why Is it so high in the first place?” He asked curiously, glancing at Leon for an answer.
“Knowing how Hiro Is,” Leon began pouring the cereal into another bowl for Chihiro. “It probably slipped his mind.”
Taka stretched and stood on his tiptoes to try to reach the container. Mondo watched amusedly for a minute before swooping in to his rescue.
But not before messing with him first.
As the Biker came up beside his boyfriend, he rested his hand on his side. He reached around him to grab for the sugar, but as he did he squeezed at Taka’s side.
He jumped in surprise, a strangled sounding laugh tearing from his throat. “M-Mondo!”
“What? What’s the problem?” He asked innocently as he turned to his boyfriend.
“You know what the problem Is!” Taka scolded, folding his arms and fixing the biker with a stern look. “You’ve been accidentally tickling me all morning!”
“Me?” Mondo pointed to himself, barely containing his laughter at his boyfriend’s reaction. “C’mon Kyoudai, would I really do somethin’ like that?”
Taka just narrowed his eyes at him in response.
Leon gently grabbed Chihiro and pulled them over next to him, removing them from what was about to be a warzone. “It’s safer If you stay over here Cheerio.”
“But what about our cereal?” Chihiro pouted, looking up at Leon with big glimmering brown eyes.
“I’ll get the sugar when they’re outta the way, Don’t worry.” He whispered to the programmer.
“Will you just stop It already? If you’re going to tickle me then just tickle me…” Taka trailed off as he caught sight of the predatory glint in Mondo’s eyes. He realized his error.
Mondo grinned evilly, practically throwing himself at the hall monitor. “Well, since ya asked so nicely…”
“M-Mondo! Wh-- No! Dohohohohon’t!” Taka tried to keep his tone serious but soon broke out into happy laughter as the biker began tickling him.
“Don’t? Don’t what?” He responded innocently, his fingertips scribbling along his ribcage.
“Tihihihihickle mehehehe!” Taka fell for the age-old trick because of course he would. “W-Wahahahahait! Nohoho I didn’t mehehehean that!”
The Ultimate Biker laughed as he wiggled his fingers relentlessly under the other boy’s arms. “I don’t think you even know what ya mean at this point. First ya tell me to tickle you, then ya tell me not to, then tell me to tickle you again? You can see where I’m getting fuckin’ confused.”
“Yeah, stop sending mixed signals Taka.” Leon chimed In from his newly acquired spot on the counter, holding the container of sugar in his hands.
“Leheheheon gehehehet off the counter! We prehehehepare food thehehere!” Taka scolded between laughs, squealing when Mondo began tickling his neck.
“And don’t help me, I don’t need your fuckin’ help.” Mondo added.
Leon scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Debatable.” he muttered under his breath as he climbed down and retreated back to his spot next to Chihiro victoriously.
“I fuckin’ heard that!” Mondo growled, shooting a warning look to the red head, who paused with his spoon in his mouth.
“Fight me.” He bit back at the biker, knowing damn well he was too preoccupied with his boyfriend to actually come after him.
Taka tried to use this as an opening to turn the tables, but Mondo’s attention was immediately back on him so his attempt was thwarted before he could even try anything.
Mondo shifted his position, now kneeling on Taka’s hands to keep them pinned down. “There we go, so you don’t get any Ideas…” He winked, shoving his hands under Taka’s shirt to get at bare skin.
“M-Mondo! C-C-Come on now, surely this isn’t Necessar--EEEE! Nahahahahaha! Nahahahat there!” He choked out between hysterical giggles.
The Ultimate biker grinned as his fingers ghosted frustratingly gently across his partner’s sides. “Not here?? Why the fuck not?? It’s like my favorite spot.” He teased. “It makes you giggle so cutely.”
Taka continued to giggle much to his chagrin, wishing he could bring his hands up to cover his rapidly turning pink face. “Thihihis isn’t fahahair!” He whined. “Whyhyhyhyhy are you doihihihing this??”
“Why?” Mondo repeated. “Didn’t you ask me to tickle you just a minute ago? Besides, I didn’t forget about that study session this morning...”
Leon snorted and Chihiro giggled In the background, both clearly enjoying lunch and a show.
“After I’m done here, I’m coming after both you fuckin’ nerds next!” Mondo growled playfully.
Chihiro squeaked and hid behind Leon, who shrugged at the empty threat. “Bet.” He retorted as he took a bite of his cereal, unfazed.
“I-I’m sorry!” Chihiro apologized, though their nervous and giddy smile made it seem less genuine somehow.
“I thohohohought you already got rehehehevenge for that!” Taka tittered, squirming aimlessly.
“Fuck no, you thought that was all the tickles I was gonna dish out??” Mondo laughed, digging into his vulnerable sides gleefully. “Those were just a warning.”
Taka shrieked as his laughter picked up considerably. Despite his previous complaints and protests, he did actually enjoy being tickled by his boyfriend. Those responses were just instinctual. If he really wanted to, he could have gotten free at any point with some effort.
And Mondo knew that, which only made him that much more adorable to him and fueled his desire to completely wreck the Hall Monitor.
“AAHAHAHAHA!” Taka shrieked, his back arching at the electricity coursing through him.
“Aww, What’s wrong~?” He cooed teasingly, continuing to knead his tender sides. “Does that tickle~?”
“Y-YEHEHEHEHEHES!” He cackled, now finding it very difficult not to thrash against the tickles.
“Aww, Poor baby~ He’s just too ticklish for his own good~” Mondo continued to tease, much to Taka’s dismay. “You’re so fucking adorable when you laugh and blush like this~”
Taka whined between laughs, wishing he could bring his shoulder up far enough to conceal his face. “MOHOHOHONDOHOHOHO! STAHAHAP TEHEHEHEASING!”
“Teasing? I’m not teasing you, babe! I’m complimenting you~” he winked, pausing. “Teasing would imply there’s something wrong with being ticklish, which there isn’t.”
The Ultimate Hall Monitor gasped for air gratefully, his body still tingling from the tickles.
Mondo pushed Taka’s shirt up to expose his midsection and leaned down, beginning to plant tiny tickly kisses against his side. He never did his hair for the day, he just left it in a messy bun, so there was nothing stopping him.
“Kyahahahahahaa! Nohohohohohoooo! Ihihiht tihihickles!” Taka laughed happily, flinching away from each kiss reflexively.
“No? But I’m trying to be affectionate, Kyoudai!” Mondo pouted playfully as he paused briefly to look at Taka, but then resumed the kisses even faster than before.
Taka pulled his hands free after resisting the urge for as long as possible. He immediately covered his face as he tittered.
“Hey! Don’t cover your face!” Mondo chastised, grabbing his hands and lacing their fingers together. “You’re obstructing my view.”
“W-What view…?” Taka panted. “You’ve seen my face before…”
“Yeah so? I could see your face a thousand times and not get tired of it... You’re fuckin’ gorgeous.” Mondo blushed, glancing away nervously. “And I… I love you.”
“Hey he said it without yelling!” Leon cheered, antagonizing the biker.
“L-Leon! He’s going to--” Chihiro tried to warn, but it was too late.
“That’s it, Kuwata! You’re fuckin’ toast!” Mondo yelled.
He went to get up but Taka pulled him back down into a warm, loving hug. “Kyoudai…” He murmured softly, smiling still. “Thank you. I love you too…”
The one place Mondo felt safe and serene in this school was In Taka’s arms, and the feeling was the same for the other boy.
Neither was sure how long they stayed like that, but eventually they did have to get up.
And when they did, Mondo made good on his promise and went storming off after their friends, Leaving Taka behind to smile and shake his head at his boyfriend.
But then he realized.
“W-Wait! We aren’t supposed to run In the building!!!” Taka yelled, following after them.
Well, some things will never change. But hopefully Taka learned his lesson today.
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just-some-gt-trash · 3 years ago
Text
2.- Glitch
AND I AM LATE TO MY OWN OROMT LIST WUUUUUU
Tbh I underestimated how much my writing has improved since my last monthly list, and therefore how much time I need to write.
But here is day two! On day five!
Pairings: Lomoceit
Summary: Logan was created with the purpose of providing humans with all the knowledge they needed. Unfortunately, his creator passed away before he was launched to the market, leaving him activated on his old house. His existence has been pretty boring since then. Until a cute couple moved next door.
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Logan was looking out the window as usual. It was one of his usual activities since he didn't really have anything else to do, but today was different. There was a couple moving next door.
Logan had seen them go in and out of their new house for hours. It wasn't like he had anything else to do, and it didn't exactly get boring either. He was analyzing the way they walked, the way they carried boxes, and every movement they made. He was programmed for that after all.
It didn't take long for the sky to get dark so he started the “night shift” for the house. It only turned on all the lights and made sure the energy saving settings were off. He didn't know why he was still doing it since there was no one living in the house, but it helped him establish a routine.
A soft nuzzle against his legs snapped him out of his thoughts. Well, the house wasn't completely empty. Perhaps saying there were no humans living there was more adequate.
Logan kneeled down to pet the head of the house dog, Thomas. He knew dogs were quite affectionate creatures, especially this one, so pets were the way to go when trying to calm it down. “It is still not time for your dinner Thomas”, he reminded it “I’ll make sure to feed you as always. Do not worry about that.” Thomas only walked away in response, most likely to go take a nap or something.
Logan sighed and looked back out. Apparently the couple decided to stop for the day. It was logical, they must be tired from working all day after all. Still, Logan couldn't really understand why he was so disappointed he couldn't see them anymore. He would have to wait for tomorrow.
There was some movement on one of the windows from the neighbor's house. One of the humans pocked their head through the window and looked out, making direct eye contact with Logan. The human smiled widely and waved at him. Logan only stepped aside and closed the curtains of his own house. Having a relationship with a human wouldn't be a good idea.
Patton was unpacking his collection of snowglobes. The shelf above the chimney was the perfect spot! He was loving every single minute of unpacking and redecorating their new home. Him and Janus had taken a big step when they decided to move together, and Patton couldn't be happier.
Well, he could. Patton noticed his neighbor had been looking at them through their window. Janus would freak out, but Patton thought they just looked lonely. He really wanted to go and introduce himself but didn't have the chance, until now.
Janus was out looking for a job nearby, so Patton had the house all for himself. He had spent the previous days trying out their new kitchen and had plenty of pastries to offer to his neighbor. So Patton packed some cookies up on a nice gift bag and headed out of his house.
Patton rang the doorbell of his neighbor’s house and waited patiently for someone to answer. A couple of seconds passed and Patton decided to try again, still nothing. “Hello? Is anybody home?” He was starting to get a little bit desperate and started ringing the doorbell multiple times in a row.
A groan could be heard from the other side of the door before it opened. A tall and slim man wearing formal clothes stood in front of him “Good morning. I politely ask you to stop playing with my doorbell and go back to your own house.”
Patton smiled at them “Hello. I’m Patton, he/him pronouns,” he extended his hand towards him.
Logan raised an eyebrow and sighed. He took Patton's hand and gave a firm handshake “You may call me Logan, and I suppose pronouns are not quite suitable for me but I’m mostly referred to as a male.”
Patton blinked “so… he/they?”
Logan shrugged “however you want to adress me is fine for me. It's not really something I’ve thought about before.” Perhaps he could look more into it later.
“Well, whatever makes you comfortable then!” Patton nodded with a wide smile. He had never met someone so formal with their words like Logan. He reminded him of an old fashioned butler.
Logan nodded back slightly. “Now as I was saying.” He felt a gentle nudge on his legs as he asked Patton to leave once again.
Patton looked down and gasped. “You have a dog?!” He kneeled down to pet it happily.
Logan was taken aback by Patton ignoring him. He looked down at them “I do, theoretically. Thomas doesn't exactly belongs to me but I do serve as it's caregiver.”
“It's adorable. Is it a golden retriever?” Patton loved dogs. He loved all animals but was unfortunately allergic to cats so he couldn't get one. He was halfway through convincing Janus to get a dog though!
Logan shook his head a bit. “Thomas is a red golden retriever, you may notice a variation on the color of its fur.”
Patton nodded, “that makes sense. You're so lucky to have a cute dog like this one.” Patton chuckled softly as he kept petting Thomas.
Logan hummed, “I suppose I am. It does need a lot of physical activity and special diet needs, but I’ve managed to accommodate its necessities.”
Patton smiled softly, “sounds like fun! This good guy must have the time of his life going on walks.”
“Ah,” Logan pushed his glasses up, “not exactly. Neither Thomas nor I get out of this house. It can run around in the backyard and I make sure to keep it entertained. I also built a rather complicated machine that helps it keep the healthy levels of exercise it needs.”
Patton looked up at Logan with wide eyes “woah. Wait, you seriously never get out of your house?”
Logan shook his head “I don't.” As much as he wanted to 'info dump’ on Patton, his purpose and functionality must remain a secret until his official release to the public. “I am not quite fond of being outdoors.”
Patton frowned a bit. “Well, maybe we could go out one day!”
Logan blinked “Pardon?”
Patton stood back up and nodded with a smile. “We can take Thomathy for a walk, or just explore the neighborhood together! Oh! And I can bring my partner Janus! I’m sure you two will get along!”
That… surprisingly didn't sound bad? Logan hummed as he tried to understand why. “As uh, lovely as that sounds, I’m afraid it won't be possible.”
Patton's smile dropped “oh, it's alright. I guess we can come visit again sometime then?”
Logan thought for a bit, having humans around wasn't a good idea. He wasn't supposed to be interacting with anyone without the host’s permission in the first place, but he knew he wasn't going to get it either way. “That can be possible.”
Patton’s smile returned, and Logan couldn't help but smile back at that. “Sounds like a plan then! Should I uh… give you my number?”
“You can. Just tell it to me and I’ll memorize it to call you later.”
Patton nodded and did that. “Then I’ll be seeing you and Thomas soon!” Patton gave one last pet to the dog. “Oh! And I almost forgot!” He handed Logan the bag of cookies, “I backed these earlier in the week but they're still good and I figured I could share some with you!”
Logan took the bag, he couldn't eat but it was just an act of courtesy. “Thank you Patton. We’ll be pleased to have you around again”
And with that, Patton made his way back home. He waved at Logan as he walked away.
Logan waved back and instructed Thomas to go back inside the house before closing the door behind them. He looked down at the cookies with a small smile. He felt something warm on his chest… and then it became pain.
Logan groaned and rubbed his head. He looked at his hand as it started glitching. The censor on the ceiling started beeping. “Thomas, I need to inactivate myself.” He walked to the living room and left the cookies on the coffee table. “I’ll be back to feed you.” Logan looked up at the censor and his physical form pixelated away until he disappeared completely.
Logan hadn't had any manteinece whatsoever since his creator passed away. He hadn't had any issues until now. Did it have anything to do with Patton visiting? Either way, he needed to rest and let the system analyze him.
Patton took the batch of cookies out of the oven just in time. They would be heading to Logan’s house to hang out soon and he figured he would bake for him again.
Janus wasn’t as excited as his boyfriend. “Are you sure this Logan guy wants me there?”
“Of course!” Patton nodded, “he never said you couldn’t come.”
Janus sighed, “that still doesn’t mean I’m welcome in his house.”
Patton took off his oven mittens and looked over at his partner. “Come on Jan, we need to meet new people. You haven’t been that friendly with your coworkers.”
“They keep misgendering me.” Janus defended themselves, “I don’t want to be friends with people that can’t do something as simple as respecting pronouns.”
“I do not believe there’s not a single person in that office that uses they/them for you” Patton walked closer to them as they talked. He took their hands. “I know you don’t like new people, but I already did half the work for you,” he chuckled a bit. “Logan is not a complete stranger, and he sounds smart! You could probably talk about techy stuff.”
Janus rolled their eyes a bit at Patton. “Fine, just because you say he’s nice.”
Patton smiled and gave Janus a quick kiss “I promise, we’ll have a fun time!”
Logan was freaking out. Not only was his glitch getting worse no matter how many times the system told him there were no errors, but his creator’s family finally found out he was dead.
Based on the information they shared with him, they weren’t really close to their family and they thought they were crazy for trying to be an inventor. It was no surprise for Logan that it took them weeks to hear the news, but he wasn’t expecting them to want the house either.
Logan didn’t know how, but he was scared. Those people visited early and even called a shelter to come and take Thomas with them. They weren’t even going to keep it! Logan was able to call them and cancel of course. One of his assigned tasks was to take care of the house dog.
If, no, when they manage to move in it’s not going to take them long to find out the censors around the house are apparently doing nothing and then they would get rid of them. The probabilities of Logan ending up in the trash was 85.6%. The other 14.4% were the probabilities of him being recycled.
They left about an hour ago but Logan didn’t know what to do. Those humans were… dumb, for the lack of a better word. They were used to farm life and most likely knew nothing about technology. Even if Logan revealed himself to them, they would be useless, maybe even a burden, taking care of him.
The doorbell rang, shit. With everything that happened, Logan forgot about Patton and Janus’ visit. Well he didn’t forget, but his processing system didn’t categorize it as a priority. Logan took a deep breath as if he needed oxygen and hoped he wouldn’t glitch while they were here. He would kick them out, but he was really looking forward to hanging out with them for some reason.
Logan opened the door and offered them a warm smile. “Good evening, it’s a pleasure to have you both here.”
Patton smiled back at him “Thank you for inviting us Logan.”
“You’re welcome.” Logan nodded slightly and stepped aside “you can come in.”
Patton nodded and walked inside hand in hand with Janus. Thomas ran to them excitedly and almost tackled Patton. “Woah there,” he chuckled, “it’s nice to see you too buddy.”
Janus held the bag of cookies so Patton could pet the dog. They smiled a bit at it and looked back at Logan. “I’m Janus, they/them pronouns.”
Logan nodded “It’s nice to finally meet you. Patton mentioned you in the little time we talked the other day.”
Patton blushed slightly and chuckled. “Well, they are the love of my life after all.”
Janus blushed darkly and gave Patton’s foot a slight kick.
Logan looked between them as he tried to analyze the situation. There was no way of making it less awkward but he was still going to try. “Would you like to go outside? There’s a back porch with a small living room where we can spend some time, and Thomas would get to run around and play with you if you want.”
“Sounds good to me!” Patton nodded. Thomas had gotten off him as soon as it heard ‘outside’.
Janus nodded in agreement “As long as there’s not any mosquitos attacking me.”
“The porch has an anti-bug system installed as well as a radiator and plenty of lighting in case the evening gets too cold,” Logan explained. “I can guarantee there won’t be any mosquitoes bugging us.”
Patton snorted at the joke and Janus rolled their eyes. “Great, you found someone with the same licking for dad jokes Patt.”
Logan raised an eyebrow, “I don’t think I understand.”
“Mosquitoes, bugging us.” Patton tried to explain, “don’t tell me the joke wasn’t intentional.”
Logan recalled his words in his mind and finally understood. “Ah, no, I’m afraid it wasn’t. But I can certainly make some jokes if those are of your liking.”
Patton smirked, “oh please. I love Janus’ annoyed face every time I make one” he chuckled and kissed his partner’s cheek.
Logan didn’t know what it was, but it didn’t feel quite right to see Patton and Janus interacting as a couple. He was well aware they were dating and all but seeing them being so affectionate with each other made him feel… glitchy. “Why don’t you go ahead while I put those aside?” He looked at the bag of cookies on Janus’ hands, “just go all the way down the hallway and you will see a clear door.”
Janus nodded a bit and handed the cookies to Logan before walking away, Patton and Thomas following behind them.
Logan hurried to the kitchen and closed the door behind him. He started to glitch again, the bag going through his hands and falling to the floor. This was bad, he couldn’t let Patton or Janus see him like this. He picked up the cookies and left them in the pantry next to the previous batch Patton gave him, which remained untouched, and went outside with the humans.
Things were going surprisingly well. Logan got the chance to get to know the couple better and even talk to Janus alone while Patton was in the bathroom. He hadn’t glitched again and was having a really fun time with them. Everything was perfect, but of course, it didn’t last long.
Logan’s sensors detected a car parking in front of the house. The same car that had been there earlier, oh no. Logan excused himself to go look outside, only to confirm that those humans were in fact his creator’s family again. Logan started one of the security protocols of the house and locked the doors. He had to figure out how to get Patton and Janus out of the house.
To make things even worse, Logan started glitching again. He was running out of time! His systems must definitely be overheating right now. He held down his glitches and would try to repress them as much as he could. He went back outside “Alright, I’m going to have to be completely honest with you two now.”
Patton looked at him with a confused look “What’s wrong?”
“I am going to explain everything that is going on, but you are going to have to trust me. There’s some people trying to come inside the house. We can’t let them know we’re here.” Logan tapped a specific spot on the ground and the coffee table rose up revealing a staircase going down into the ground. “No one knows about this place, we’ll be safe if we go down there.”
Janus stood up and pulled Patton with them. “What?! You seriously can’t expect us to go in there.”
Logan had started the ‘sleeping mode' on the house and the lights inside turned off. “Please. I am well aware that we don’t really know each other, and you have absolutely no reason to trust me. But I don’t want you to get in trouble within your first month of living here.”
Patton looked inside as the lights went off, them at the secret entrance, and then at his partner. “We have to Jan.”
“No we don’t. He could be trying to kill us or something,” Janus pulled Patton away. “We’re leaving.” They were about to open the door to go back in when they heard footsteps from the inside and stepped back. They looked at Patton, who gave them a reassuring nod. They sighed “fine, but I swear if you try anything sketchy.”
“I won’t. This is merely for your safety.” Logan made a hand movement towards the stairs, instructing Thomas to go down.
The humans gave each other one last look before going down as well. Logan followed them and made the entrance close behind them.
Downstairs was a secret bunker his creator made in case of an emergency. It was equipped with one of Logan’s sensors, tools in case he needed fixing, food and water for humans and dogs, and Logan’s ‘heart’. It wasn’t really a heart of course, it was just a large cpu that contained all his programming and archives.
Janus looked around the room, focusing on the cpu as they admired how advanced it was. “What is this place?”
“A bunker, technically.” Logan knew it wasn't able to protect humans from all natural or human created disasters, but it definitely made the chances of survival bigger.
“Alright, and why did we have to come down here then? Who are those people?” Janus was getting quite defensive. Logan was nice and all but this situation made them feel like their safety was at risk.
Logan let out a sigh. “I promised I would explain.” He stood under his sensor and looked up at it. “This house is not my property. All of this belonged to my creator.”
Patton raised an eyebrow. “Your creator? You mean your parent?”
“If you would like to see it that way.” Logan had never thought about it like that. “The thing is, I am not human. I am a virtual home assistant. There are censors all around the house that allow me to materialize in a room and control the different electronic devices such as lights or security systems. I was created to help humans with their daily tasks through the day, as well as provide knowledge about any subject of interest. What I do not know I can learn through the internet.
Patton and Janus looked at each other as Logan explained. Janus let out a dry chuckle “so you’re like Siri.”
Logan winced, “please don't call me that. Siri is not as advanced as myself and it's obsolete in comparison.” He fixed his glasses and spoke quite proudly.
Patton couldn't help but chuckle at that. He let go of Janus’ hand and walked closer to Logan. “You're a hologram then?”
“Not exactly. Every molecule of my body is digitalized but I do possess a physical form.” Logan reached to grab Patton's hand. “I am able to touch and interact with other physical stuff around me as long as I’m activated. There's also a setting that keeps me in ‘voice mode’ just like other virtual assistants.”
Patton intertwined his fingers with Logan’s “and you're here all alone? Well, with Thomas.”
Logan looked down at their hands and nodded, “I am. My creator passed away not that long ago, but their family just found out about it.” He glitched, making his fingers go through Patton's. “The censors in the house are the only thing that keep me… alive, in a way. If those people move here and don't uninstall them properly-”
“You disappear,” Janus interrupted them. “And even if they don't, without someone checking your systems, you'll keep failing.”
Logan nodded and glitched again. “There must be some kind of error on my program but I'm not being able to detect it.” He walked to his cpu, “the only thing I know is that it started when Patton first visited.”
Patton walked back to Janus, “you can fix him!”
“What? Me? Why should I? We barely even know him and I wouldn't even be able to decipher his code without any sort of help from the developer,” Janus explained.
Patton sighed, “we can't just leave Logan to die.”
“I wouldn't die, I would just cease to exist,” Logan looked back at them. “My creator had several journals where he explained all the process of my development. All the information needed for me to function is here,” he tapped the cpu a couple of times.
“Please Jan.” Patton took his partner’s hands and squeezed them, “we can't just do nothing. I would do it myself but I know nothing about computers and programming and all that stuff you do.”
Janus looked at between Logan and Patton, they sighed. “Fine, but it’s going to take time. I’m not completely sure when I’ll be able to activate you again. We would have to take the cpu to our house as well as the censors and install them there.
Logan nodded, “I understand. The cpu itself it’s enough to have me active on a monitor, so I’ll be able to guide you through the whole process. We can get started as soon as the people upstairs leave.”
And they did. Patton and Janus managed to move the cpu to their home and connect it to their computer. A digital version of Logan lived on the screen and he was still able to communicate with the humans. Besides working on getting Logan’s physical form back, they started doing more hanging up nights. They got to know each other better, but that only seemed to make Logan’s errors worse.
Janus made some significant progress and was able to activate a mini Logan using their phone as a sensor. He was even able to walk around the desk freely. But they still couldn’t find the cause of the glitching.
Patton made sure to help with what he could. He took care of Thomas, who was now living as their dog, and made sure Janus didn’t overwork.
During one of the many casual talks Janus and Logan had, the topic of pronouns came up. “How did you know you wanted to go by they/them?”
Janus shrugged, “It’s not really something like a big revelation or something. I just came across the non-binary label and different sets of pronouns, they/them just sounds right.”
Logan hummed. He had gone through all the articles he could find online about the topic and still didn’t fully understand. “Would it make sense for me to use them? I do not really have a gender and I’ve been thinking about that since Patton introduced himself. My physical form can be altered through my code and I don’t know how being a boy or a girl feels like.” He started rambling about his worries. Did he want this only because it was logical?
Janus listened as they kept working, they eventually stopped to look at the small assistant sitting on their desk. “If you want to try it, go ahead. It’s not a bad thing to change your label or how you want people to refer to you as you discover more about yourself. You become more sentient with every new code and every upgrade you get. I suppose it resembles your growth, not as an artificial intelligence, but as a person.”
Logan looked up at them, “that… makes sense…” He glitched, and an idea came to his, their? Their mind, “that’s it!.” Logan stood up and walked to Janus’ phone to go back into the monitor. They looked through the codes until they found what they were looking for. “I become more sentient with every upgrade, but I haven’t been upgraded in months,” they looked at Janus through the screen. “Somehow I was able to develop a wider range of emotions, more than the original intent. I’ve become more advanced than my last upgrade.”
Janus’ eyes went wide as they understood what Logan was saying, “you need an upgrade, one that allows your system to process those emotions as part of you and not as an error.”
Logan nodded, “exactly. Do you think you can do it?”
“Well, we’ve come this far. I’m sure an upgrade won’t be as hard as it sounds.”
Logan chuckled a bit and looked back at their codes. “You know, I do want to try going by they/them pronouns. The agender label sounds like the most accurate for me.”
Janus smiled softly and tapped the screen with one finger. “Welcome to the club then.”
Logan looked back at him and placed their hand on Janus’ finger. They smiled and glitched again as that warm feeling on his chest returned.
“Are you ready Patt?”
Patton bounced on his feet with excitement, he had Thomas running around him. “I am! Come on come ooon! Activate them!”
Janus chuckled and kissed Patton’s cheek. “Patton, darling, I present to you,” they tried to reach up to activate the sensor but underestimated how tall the ceiling was. “Oh come on!”
Patton held back a laugh and grabbed his partner under their armpits to lift them up. “There you go!”
Janus yelped and blushed, “this is the last time I let you pick me up…” They both knew that wasn’t true, but Patton would let them think it was. “As I was saying, I present to you” they turned the sensor on.
It glowed with a dark blue light and projected a beam of light under it. Several pixels appeared and fused together until Logan’s physical form was completed. “L.O.G.A.N 6.4!”
Logan opened their eyes and let them adjust to the light in the room. Their scanners recognized Janus and Patton as the new hosts, and Thomas as the house dog. “Greetings, your L.O.G.A.N 6.4 has been successfully upgraded and activated, please wait for previous data to download completely.” Logan stood still as they finished their upgrading process. They blinked once they were ready.
“Logan?” Patton walked closer to them, a bit worried something went wrong and they went back to default mode.
Logan smiled softly, “it’s me, hello Patton”
Patton squealed and hugged Logan tightly. “It worked! It really worked!”
Janus joined the group hug happily. “It’s so nice to have you back Lo.”
Logan wrapped their arms around the humans with a slight blush. They didn’t glitch this time, not that it surprised them since they fixed that issue, but it felt different than they expected it to feel. “It’s nice to be back.”
Their systems weren’t able to fully comprehend every emotion just yet, but Logan was sure of something. They never wanted to live alone again. No, they never wanted to live without Janus and Patton again.
53 notes · View notes
jungshookz · 4 years ago
Note
cee cee i have an idea!!! what about Cool and Cultured bookshop owner! tae and dorky y/n walking past the store everyday and one day goes in and strikes a conversation about a fancy book like catcher in the rye and talks about the symbolism of rye in the book and tae's like :0 das wildly inaccurate but you're kinda cute so here's my number so we can talk more about rye and y/ns like :0
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➺ pairing; kim taehyung x reader
➺ genre; wowowow handsome & well-read bookkeeper!taehyung, fluff!!!! the kind of fluff that makes you feel like you’re wrapped up in a warm blanket sipping on a mug of hot chocolate on a nice autumn’s day when the leaves are just starting to turn red and orange, y/n’s kind of a dummy but in a very loveable kind of way, featuring namjoon the (sort of) wingman
➺ wordcount; 6.2k
➺ summary; the catcher in the rye? oh, sure - of course you know that book! it’s about catching loaves of bread, right?
➺ what to expect; “i called it catch her in the eye, joon.”
➺ note; our (first??) drabble of the month as voted by you guys! i finished writing this the day after it was decided that bookkeeper!tae was the winner because that’s how excited i was about him >:-) enjoy! 
                                        »»————- ➴ ————-««
“and… open your eyes!” you exclaim, throwing your arms up into the air excitedly as namjoon takes his hands away from his eyes
he blinks owlishly before looking up and-
“you brought me to a bookstore!” he gasps, a smile immediately spreading over his features as he claps his hands together, “oh, this is great! usually, you bring me to those awful rock-climbing places, or that horribly violent paintball gun place, and even when you brought me to the movie theatre the tickets were for that gory r-rated horror movie-”
“okay, let’s not get carried away-” you hold a finger out to shut namjoon up before he can list out moRe reasons as to why you seem more like you hate him instead of love him, “the point is: this time, i brought you to a bookstore!” you smile proudly before crossing your arms
not to toot your own horn or anything but you did a pretty good job with this surprise
you even did tons of research to find the best bookstores in the city!!
which was difficult because namjoon’s been to like.,,. EVERY bookstore in the city
but not this one!
to be fair, it was a long forty-five minute car ride to get here so you understand why he’s never come out here himself
“…this isn’t like… a weird bookstore or anything, right?” namjoon narrows his eyes in suspicion before taking a step back and looking up at the name of the store again
the secret garden
oh!!!!
like the book!!!!
how clever :D
“what do you mean?” you frown, placing your hands on your hips before glancing back up at the name as well
the secret garden
hm
kind of a lame name for a bookstore
“like a…” namjoon trails off before clearing his throat, “you know, like a bookstore that’s actually a sex dungeon or something like that-”
“ew!” you immediately make a face before shaking your head quickly, “wha- why would you even say that?!”
“well, i don’t know!” namjoon holds his hands up in defence, “i’ve never been to this bookstore before-!”
“this is a regular ol’ bookstore, joon. i promise!” you clap your hands on his shoulders before giving him a squeeze, “just the way you like it! old, dusty, and full of nothing but boring books.”
namjoon beams
that’s exactly what he likes to hear
see, today is your seven year friendaversary with namjoon
you guys have known each other since middle school and noW the two of you are in your final year of university which is crazy
and so, for the past seven years, you’ve gone out on this day to celebrate your beautiful friendship because honestly you’ll take whatever excuse to go to a restaurant to try to get free dessert (“yeah, we’re celebrating our anniversary! so, i’ll take three orders of your chocolate lava cake-”)
you guys usually take turns where one year one of you will plan an entire day of fun activities for the other, and then the next year, the other person will do it because that seems like a relatively fair system
last year, namjoon took you to this cute pottery place and you ended up making these adorable matching friendship mugs
they’re both a little lopsided but that’s just part of their charm!!
namjoon painted his a beige-brown and you painted yours a BRIGHT purple and then you traded mugs (so that when he comes over to your apartment, he has his mug, and when you go over to his apartment, you have your mug!)
he also insisted that you guys carve your guys’ initials on the bottom of yours and draw a heart around it which you thought was a little much but you are… very fond of namjoon so you’d jump off a cliff if he asked you to
admittedly, most of the things that you’ve planned during your years have been catered to your own personal desires so you’ve been a little unfair but namjoon’s always been too much of a sweetheart to say anything about it
and for the most part, he’s a pretty good sport even though it’s blatantly obvious that he’d rather chop a toe off than spend the afternoon doing your chosen activity
the last time it was your turn two years ago, you took him to a go-cart track and spent the entire two hours practically driving circles around him because he was driving like ten kilometres an hour
the only reason why he wasn’t driving like one is supposed to drive on a go-cart track (i.e. like a maniac) is because he was worried that if he went too fast he’d get a ticket or something
and kim namjoon does not get speeding tickets
not on the real road and most certainly not on a man-made road either!
for the record, he definitely didn’t appreciate you calling him a slowpoke and telling him to eat my dust, bitch! and he still brings it up from time to time whenever he wants to guilt you into doing something with him (“i’m not switching muffins with you. it’s not my fault you don’t like yours!” “…hey, remember that time you called me a slowpoke and told me to-”  “take the muffin.”)
anyways
he’s glad that this is just a normal bookstore and that he doesn’t have to worry about whether or not one of your activities is going to end in him losing a limb for the first time
what a wonderful way to end the day!!
actually, you guys still have to grab dinner after this where you’ll try to squeeze as many free desserts out of the restaurant as possible as per usual so this is a wonderful way to almost end the day
the little bell hanging above the door chimes as the two of you step in and almost immediately you’re greeted with the warm smell of what you’re pretty sure is hot chocolate??
“i love this place already.” namjoon breathes out, his jaw dropping in awe, “i wanna live here!”
“okay, keep it in your pants-” the door starts to shut and you nudge namjoon forward to keep from getting your butt nipped by the door
you don’t even get a chance to say anything else before namjoon suddenly darts off
so much for keeping it in his pants
you pause when you get a good look at the place
huh
for some reason you feel like a lot of instagram pictures have been taken here
it’s obviously an antique place but it’s like one of those trendy antique places
a brass chandelier hangs from the ceiling, the (fake) candles casting a golden glow over the entire store
there’s a spiral staircase that curls up to the second floor
the walls are covered with floor to ceiling shelves stacked with, duh, books, but even for what you thought would just be a dusty old bookstore… it’s pretty nice in here!
there’s even an archway in the centre of the place that leads to what looks like a pretty cozy reading space for customers which is a nice touch
and there are people sipping on mugs of hot chocolate too!!!
you can’t help but wonder if you need to be reading a book in order to get a mug of cocoa
you like the hot chocolate part but you’re not as excited about the reading part
“y/n, come on!” you look over to see namjoon - who already has three books cradled in his arms - waving you over enthusiastically, “check it out! it’s a vintage boxed set of the chronicle of narnia series! and they’re leatherbound-“ he practically moans before nudging you towards it, “help me take it out?”
“narnia?” you snort, tilting your head so you can look at the titles pressed into the spine of the book, “isn’t narnia, like… for kids?”
the last time you read the lion, the witch, and the wardrobe was when you had to read it for a book report in like the fourth grade
you glance over your shoulder to look at namjoon who now has an unimpressed frown on his face
“what??”
“…you insult me.” he sniffles, “just help!”
you roll your eyes playfully before turning back to pull the thick set out of the shelf and-
“hello!”
“-!”
the sudden sound of a stranger’s voice nearly makes you drop the set but you manage to prop the edge of the box back up onto the shelf before it falls and breaks all the bones in your foot
you turn to look at whoever-
oh my
hello indeed
“welcome to the secret garden.” he smiles kindly, tilting his head at you, “did you need any help with that, miss?”
oh good god
his voice makes you feel like you’re wading through a river of warm caramel
and you’d happily let yourself drown in that river
two seconds go by where you don’t respond at all and instead you continue staring at mr. caramel with very obvious hubba-hubba eyes
“i think we’re good, thank you!” namjoon clears his throat, elbowing your back gently before offering a smile of his own
“oh, alright! well, my name’s taehyung,” taehyung reaches up to adjust his glasses, “please let me know if you need assistance of any kind - i’ll just be up at the front. if you’re just here to relax and read, i’d be happy to whip up two mugs of hot chocolate for the two of you!”
“awesome! thank you.” namjoon nods all while you continue smiling at taehyung dazedly
he waits until taehyung disappears before turning back and looking at you
“…what’s wrong with you?”
“i’m good, thank you…” you whisper your very delayed response and namjoon moves his head so that he’s blocking your view when you lean back a little to try to look at taehyung sitting behind the front counter, “holy moly. i’d let him explore my secret garden-”
“oh, now look who can’t keep it in their pants-“
“hey, you should look at this as a good thing!” you grunt as you adjust the hefty box in your arms, “now i’ll willingly drive you back here… whenever you want.”
namjoon’s eyes immediately light up
                                         »»————- ➴ ————-««
you and namjoon end up returning to the bookstore about two weeks later
last time, namjoon wanted to stay longer (and so did you, honestly) buT you were pretty close to losing your dinner reservations and you weren’t about to give up your free chocolate lava cake just to stare at the cute bookkeeper from afar like a creep
so you had to leave!
namjoon ended up leaving with the boxed set and a couple other books so suffice to say, he was pretty happy
and when you suggested visiting the bookstore again this week… well, namjoon had to jump on that opportunity, didn’t he??
you?? offering to take him to a bookstore?? again??
you’re obviously only using him as an excuse to go into the bookstore so you can spend hours watching taehyung like a weirdo but he’ll take it
namjoon hums happily as he takes a sip of his hot chocolate before licking a little bit of whipped cream off his top lip
he wonders if taehyung would be willing to share the recipe to it because this is honestly the best hot chocolate he’s ever had
namjoon looks up from his book when he hears you let out a sigh for the tenth time in the last two minutes
oh god
look at you!
“oh… and he’s good with kids, too?” you sigh blissfully as you prop your elbow up on the arm of the sofa chair before leaning your cheek against your fist
you watch fondly as taehyung gets down on one knee, holding two fists out for a little girl
she taps his right hand shyly before quickly wrapping her arms back around her mom’s leg, peeking at him from behind it shyly 
taehyung flips his wrist around and uncurls his fingers to reveal a single caramel, his face lighting up briefly as she takes it from his open palm into her little hand 
“i don’t know why you can’t just go up and talk to him-” namjoon snorts at how lovestruck you look before peering around the corner of the archway to look at taehyung too, “it’s not a big deal. he’s really nice!”
“i can’t just go up and talk to him. are you kidding me?” you frown, shaking your head, “what am i supposed to say??”
“tell him you need help finding a book!” namjoon states as if it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world (because it is) before slapping the book on his lap shut, “just out of curiosity - what book would you ask him to help you find?”
you lean back against the sofa chair before twisting your lips in thought
hm
book?
what book…
what was the last book you read…?
ooh!
“esio trot!” you perk up, namjoon’s eyebrows knitting together in confusion because he has no idea what just came out of your mouth-
“esio- oh my god, esio trot as in the roald dahl children’s novel??” namjoon frowns, “no! you can’t go up to taehyung and ask him to help you find esio friggin’ trot-”
“okay, you don’t see me making fun of you for buying what you bought last week, mr. chronicles of narnia-”
“you did make fun of me!” namjoon gawks, “in fact, you’re still making fun of me for it-” he waves his hand to cease the conversation, “listen to me. from the very few times that i’ve spoken to taehyung, it’s clear that he’s… cultured, you know?”
“cultured… like yogurt.” you joke, slapping your own knee gently, “get it?? because yogurt is cultured? cultured yogurt??”
namjoon resists the urge to roll his eyes
see?
this is exactly what he’s talking about
“…yes, y/n. i get it. anyways, as i was saying- taehyung is just very…” namjoon kisses his teeth as he tries to think of how to phrase his words, “…well-read… intelligent… scholarly… refined…”
you tilt your head in curiosity as namjoon continues listing out a bunch of snooty sounding adjectives
wait a minute
“are you-” you scoff, straightening up in your seat, “are you calling me dumb??”
hey!!
you’re not dumb!!!
it’s not like books are super complicated to figure out or anything
all you have to do is read what’s inside of it and you certainly know how to read!!!
and sure, sometimes you still don’t know if receive is spelt receive or recieve or if business is spelt buisness or biusness, but that doesn’t mean that you’re dumb!!
“no, no, i’m not calling you dumb!” namjoon shakes his head quickly, “i’m just saying that if you had a choice, you would choose a movie over a book-”
“well, yeah - obviously i would choose a movie over a book.” you snort, “why would i waste eight hours reading tiny little words on stiff white pages when i could be watching a movie that compresses the entire story in a convenient one hour and a half??”
“i’m your friend, and i don’t want to watch you make a fool of yourself!” namjoon argues, “because if you do, then you’ll be too embarrassed to ever come back here again, which means that i’ll never be able to come back here again-”
“what’s stopping you from coming here by yourself?”
“because every time i tell you that i’m going to the bookstore, you’re going to ask me a bunch of taehyung related questions when i get back-”
okay
that’s a fair point
that sounds like something you would do for sure
“alright, fine!” you huff before crossing your arms, “what book do you suggest i go up there and ask him to help me find?”
namjoon twists his lips in thought
hm…
“catch her in the eye!” you chirp, folding your hands behind you book as you smile brightly at taehyung
namjoon feels his own face flush at how confidently you just said that and he immediately slaps a hand over his mouth to keep himself from screaMING
he told you to ask taehyung to help you find the catcher in the rye
NOT CATCH HER IN THE EYE
“the catcher in the rye?” taehyung nods, “sure! of course i can help you find the catcher in the rye.” he returns a smile as he steps out from behind the counter, “follow me, please!”
you shoot namjoon a big thumbs up and a faT grin as you pass by the entrance of the archway and he gives you a weak one in return before turning back and slumping against the couch
oh boy
…he’s never going to come back to this beautiful bookstore, is he?
“you were here about two weeks ago, weren’t you?” taehyung asks as he looks over his shoulder, the two of you trotting up the spiral staircase, “with your… boyfriend, right? you guys bought the boxed narnia set.”
“hm? oh!” you let out a little laugh, “yes, that was us, but joon- namjoon’s just my friend. um, that day was actually our seven-year friendaversary and he’s a real dork for books so i thought it’d be nice to bring him here-”
it’s in that moment that you suddenly hear namjoon’s voice in your head reminding you that you’re supposed to act like yoU like reading too
“i mean-” you clear your throat, “i, too, really like books, so i- you know, it was a mutually pleasant experience for the both of us t-to be here-” you chuckle nervously
hopefully you were able to save your own ass there
that was a close call!!
you trail behind taehyung as the two of you weave in and out of the bookshelves
you didn’t get a chance to come up to the second floor last week
but it’s surprisingly nice up here!!  
there’s a lone sofa chair in the corner with a little coffee table sitting next to it
very nice for customers who prefer to read alone
“ah, well, that’s very thoughtful of you!” taehyung nods before suddenly pausing, “i’m so sorry-” he spins around and you nearly bump into his chest but you manage to stop yourself just in time, “i just realised i never got your name.”
“y/n. i’m- i’m y/n.” you stick your hand out quickly for him to shake
you feel a little zap! travel from your fingertips to the rest of your body as soon as taehyung takes your hand in his
he gives you a gentle shake before squeezing your hand lightly and then letting go, “well, it’s very nice to meet you, y/n. now, give me a second to find the catcher in the rye for you…”
taehyung turns to thumb through the books on the shelf and you feel your heart flutter in your chest as how pretty he looks from the side
wowie
you can’t help but take your bottom lip in between your teeth as you continue to admire taehyung’s features from the soft swoosh of his hair to the rosy pink of his lips
how can one man be so pretty?
“ah- here we are!” taehyung pulls a book out of the shelf and you quickly snap yourself out of your daze, “the catcher in the rye… a novel by j.d. salinger.” he hands it to you and you take it before blinking down at the cover
…the catcher in the rye?
what happened to catch her in the eye???
“it’s a great book.” taehyung hums, “have you read it before?”
“oh, i… i have!” you scoff, making a face, “duh, of course i have. i mean, it’s… you know, it’s such a… um, a powerful novel…” you clear your throat before reaching up to scratch the back of your neck, “i mean, the last time i read it was actually in… high school… so… you know, i’ve forgotten most of the details but i figured it’d be nice to get a refresher, you know?”
(you never read this in high school.)
((you just made namjoon summarise the entire book to you in the form of a poorly drawn stickman comic and even then you still didn’t fully understand the story.))
“absolutely! there’s nothing wrong with revisiting old friend from the past,” taehyung chuckles lightly, “in fact, i was reading animal farm the other day- what kind of literature do you typically read?”
you press your lips together tightly
oh god
namjoon didn’t prepare you for additional questions  
literature??
quick!
what kind of literature do you typically read??
tell him you read all kinds of literature!
that sounds like a legitimate answer, right?
“i... read… all-”
you’re cut off by the sound of a bell chiming from below and you let out a breath of relief when taehyung scurries past you to peer over the balcony
“i’ll be right there!” he holds a finger up at the customer waiting by the front counter before spinning around to face you again, “was there anything else you needed, y/n?”
“wha- i-” you stammer, unable to come up with a non-creepy reason to keep him up here with you, “no! no, this was-” you give the front cover a hearty slap, “this was all i needed-”
“perfect!” taehyung claps his hands together, “well, let me know. you know where i am!”  
he disappears down the staircase before you even get a chance to thank him
the smell of his cologne lingers in the air as you make your way down the staircase and you can’t help but beat yourself up over how your interaction with taehyung went
it wasn’t a bad interaction or anything
in fact, you think you did a pretty good job at acting like a bookworm!!
it’s just that…
you don’t think it was a particularly memorable interaction for taehyung
that was just a typical customer interaction for him
you were supposed to charm him!!!
impress him!!
sweep him off his feet!!!
tickle his brain!!
“hey, buddy…” namjoon coos as you plop back down on the sofa chair, “how… did it go?”
he’s afraid to hear your answer because it certainly looks like it didn’t go super well
damnit
he knows this moment is about you but now he’s thinking about how he’ll probably never be able to taste this delicious hot chocolate ever again
“got the book.” you grumble, tossing it onto the coffee table before shaking your head, “i called it catch her in the eye, joon.”
“yeah, i… uh, i heard you.” namjoon nods understandingly, crossing one leg over the other before leaning back against the couch, “i don’t think he heard you say that, though! i mean, he knew what you were looking for right away.”
namjoon knows you well enough to see that you’re currently spiralling down a self-pity hole right now
oh boy
“hey, you know what’ll make you feel better?” he leans forward to give your knee a comforting squeeze
“what?”
“how about i buy this for you so you can read it and fully impress taehyung next time with your newfound knowledge-“ namjoon points to the book you’ve abandoned on the table, “and then we can go for chocolate lava cake!”
your eyes widen slightly
“free chocolate lava cake?”
“no, not free-“ namjoon snorts, getting up from the couch before reaching back to pick up his bag, “i mean, i’ll pay for it. my treat! so, yeah. i guess it’s kinda free for you.”
“that sounds nice!” your frown is almost instantaneously replaced by a grin, “if i get more free things from you just for being sad, i’m going to be sad more often-”
“what?? no! do not pretend to be sad just to get me to pay for things-”
taehyung glances over from the front counter when he hears a twinkly laugh and he can’t help but smile lightly at the sight of you giggling away in the sofa chair
your nose scrunches slightly as you let out a little snort and he presses his lips together to keep himself from beaming too wide
y/n, huh? cute.
                                          »»————- ➴ ————-««
(taehyung can’t stop thinking about you and your absurdly cute face.)
                                         »»————- ➴ ————-««
it’s another two weeks later that you come back to the secret garden - but this time, you come alone.
and to be honest, you… don’t know if this was a good idea or not
because joon was with you for the last two times and you were definitely using him as a security blanket so now you feel like you’re about to dive into the deep end of the pool without any floaties
you were going to ask if he wanted to come with you but you felt like this was something that you had to do alone
you swallow thickly as you tuck your car keys into your pocket
namjoon can’t be your bookworm wingman forever, right?
the store is almost suspiciously quiet as you step in, the little bell ringing above your head as per usual
your classes ended a little later today which is why you weren’t able to come in the afternoon
pluS you had to find a way to get namjoon to go home without you without raising any eyebrows so that sucked up a little more of your time
you were going to tell him that you were going to stay on campus to study at the library but even you couldn’t believe that
so you told him that you had a group project to work on which was why you couldn’t have dinner with him tonight!
you jump in surprise when the door suddenly slams shut behind you from the breeze
it’s a little chillier now that it’s november but it’s nice that you get to wear cozy cardigans and snuggly sweaters now
“i’ll be right there!”
you hear taehyung’s voice ring out from the second floor and you swallow your nerves as you stand up a little straighter
fake it till you make it, right?
i love books
i love books so much
i love books so much that i would fuck a book if i could!
...okay, maybe not that one.
you glance around the store - there doesn’t seem to be anyone else here
which makes sense because the sign says that the store closes at 7pm on weekdays and it’s…
6:50
wow
so you’RE the asshole who comes into the place ten minutes before closing time
good one!
“so sorry for the wait, i was just-” taehyung pauses on the steps, his face immediately lighting up when he sees you, “oh, y/n!”
“hi!” you chirp before reaching up to scratch the back of your neck, “sorry i came ten minutes before you’re supposed to close… i wanted to come earlier, but i had a thing…”
“oh, don’t even worry about it!” taehyung snorts, tossing the dirty rag over his shoulder, “i was just doing some dusting…”
you feel your mouth go drY as soon as you notice what he’s wearing
he’s wearing a henley tee (except all the buttons are undone and aLso he has his sleeves pushed up to his elbows), dark wash jeans, and a pair of tattered black converse sneakers
it’s just the casualness of it all that makes it so sexy
“so, what can i help you with tonight?” taehyung tosses the rag onto the counter before pushing his glasses back down from the top of his head
he adjusts them slightly before blinking at you and you find it awfully cute that his doe eyes now look a little bigger through the thick lenses
what can he help you with tonight?
…yeah, what can he help you with tonight?
the downside of not telling namjoon about your solo mission is the fact that namjoon’s usually the one who plans every little detail out for you
and you just came here on a whim
you don’t have a plan
you don’t have a plan at all!
your plan was to just come to the bookstore to see taehyung because you wanted to see taehyung
“i…”
“oh, by the way-” taehyung perks up suddenly, “how was your little trip down memory lane with the catcher in the rye?”
the catcher in the rye?
the catcher in the rye!!!
ah! yes!!
that’s definitely something to talk about!
…wait a second
you-
you didn’t read the book
oh god
you had two weeks to read the book and you didn’t read the book
almost immediately you feel your anxiety sPike back up and you can’t help but scold yourself for not bringing namjoon along with you
if namjoon was here, you’d just get him to say all the main points and you’d stand right next to him throwing in the occasional ‘yes, very good point!’ and ‘of course, i completely agree’ every now and then!
“the catcher in the rye!” you blurt out, suddenly aware that you haven’t spoken in like ten seconds, “i- yes! the book was- it was great. i thoroughly enjoyed it. i would definitely read it again!”
“hey, that’s great!” taehyung laughs lightly, “you know- i mean, i have to ask because i always ask this question to people who’ve read it- what do you think the main theme of it is?” taehyung hums, “because i’ve always thought it focused a lot on alienation, you know? i mean, a loss of innocence is obviously another theme, what, with holden wanting to be sheltered from the harshness of adult life- i really think it can actually be seen as some kind of social commentary… like a critique of the superficiality in society-”
“of course, i completely agree!” you nod furiously, “those are very good points-”
“i’m sorry, i’m probably sucking up all the oxygen in the room-” taehyung smiles sheepishly before shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans, “so what do you think?”
if there was ever a moment for a black hole to appear in the floor and swallow you whole… you’d want for it to happen right now.
actually, you’d want it for it to happen whilst you were driving to the bookstore so that you wouldn’t have even gotten the chance to say hi to taehyung
“i think… well, i… first of all, i agree completely with everything that you just said about aliens and… you know, a loss of innocence and how hard adult life is…” you stumble over your words, your face beginning to flush from how idiotic you probably sound, “i just… i have to talk about my favourite part in the book! you know, the part where holden- holden, that’s the name that you just mentioned- he… he does such a great job at catching those loaves of bread. i thought that part was hilarious.”
you clear your throat at the end of your mini-review
taehyung’s eyes flicker slightly and for a second you think you’re in danger of being called out for obviously noT having read the book but…
he nods slowly and brings his hand up to stroke his chin thoughtfully, “i mean… yeah. i completely agree! that part always gets me! why don’t you go on? i’m interested in hearing more of your thoughts.”  
oh
oh!
hey, would you look at that??
phEW
maybe you’re better at improvising than you thought you were
now knowing that you’re on the right track gives you a booST of confidence and you give yourself a mental pat on the back
you can’t wait to tell namjoon about this
he’s going to be so proud of you!!
you grin before nodding enthusiastically, “of course! i have a lot of thoughts to share on the book. i mean, i personally think it was an interesting choice on the author’s part to choose rye as the main ingredient, because he had… so many other options that he could’ve gone with! and also - did he go with light rye or dark rye?? because throughout the entire novel, he never actually specifies what kind of rye bread he’s referring to-”
taehyung leans back against the counter and crosses his arms, smiling politely as he continues to listen to your rye bread rant
it’s obvious that you definitely didn’t read the book but he was genuinely curious as to what you would be able to pull out of your ass which was why he asked you to go on
he doesn’t think anyone’s ever gone into a full-blown ramble about how the catcher in the rye is actually a narrative on the benefits on rye bread for lil ol’ him before
but, for the record… 
it’s really cute how much effort you’re putting into your analysis to try to impress him
“i’m sorry, i need to- i need to interrupt you-” taehyung giggles, cutting you off right as you’re about to dive into a discussion about the number of loaves holden caught in the novel, “as much as i would love to hear more… everything that’s coming out of your mouth is wildly inaccurate, y/n.”
what
...
oh my god.
“wh-” your throat goes dry and you choke a little, “what?”
“be honest- did you read the book?” taehyung asks flat-out and you feel your cheeks burning up again
uh-oh
“i…”
okay
forget it
you can’t do this anymore!
it’s too stressful!!!!
“…no.” you press your lips together before shooting taehyung a sheepish grin, “there’s no catching loaves of bread in the novel, is there?”
“not even one loaf.”
“oh, god-” you groan quietly, reaching up to cover your hot face with your hands at the realisation that you just very confidently ranted about the importance of rye bread in this novel for the past five minutes, “not even one?!”
mortifying!
absolutely mortifying!!!!
well
it’s time to tell namjoon to find a new favourite bookstore because you are nevER bringing him back here agai-
“hey, it’s totally fine!” taehyung laughs lightly, stepping closer to you so that he can pry your hands away from your flushed face, “i actually think it’s really impressive how long you can go talking about bread-”
“you let me- you knew that i hadn’t read the book yet you let me continue talking about bread-?!” you gawk, taehyung now bursting into a full-blown chortle as he throws his head back, “how could you??”
“i couldn’t help it!!” taehyung wheezes, reaching up to flick a stray tear away, “i’m sorry! i’m sorry, really, i am-”
even when he’s laughing at you, your stomach can’t help but feel fluttery
“you’re lucky you’re pretty-” you snort, shaking your head gently, “otherwise i would be way more mad at you…”
taehyung’s laughs dwindle down into light chuckles and you swallow thickly when he takes a small step closer
“you’re lucky you’re pretty.” he retorts playfully, reaching over to move a strand of hair away from your eyes with his pinky finger, “otherwise i wouldn’t have let you talk my ear off about bread for five whole minutes…”
...he thinks you’re pretty?
“oh yeah?” you challenge, reaching over to jab your finger into his chest
taehyung reaches up to wrap his fingers around your wrist before offering you a particularly boyish smirk, “mm, yeah.”
you don’t miss the way his eyes flicker down to your lips for a split second and you know it’s way too soon but you really want him to just lean down and kiss you…
“hey, do you like dessert?” taehyung pulls away suddenly before turning to make his way behind the counter
“de- dessert?” you ask dumbly, still a little dazed from... that
what was that?!
“mhm!” tae leans down slightly and flips a couple of switches underneath the counter, the chandelier light shutting off first before the other little lights begin to switch off as well, “there’s a little diner about a block away that makes really good strawberry cheesecakes.”
“i love dessert!” you nod, “and strawberry cheesecake sounds really yummy.”
“good! in that case, would you be interested in sharing a slice of cheesecake with me and perhaps delving deeper into your rye-based analysis?” taehyung teases as he grabs his coat off the back of his chair, his keys jingling in his hands
you snort lightly
“i would love to share a slice of cheesecake with you but i refuse to embarrass myself further, so we’re going to have to find something else to talk about-”
taehyung holds the door open for you and you immediately shiver as you step out, the chilly air a stark contrast from the warmth of tae’s cozy store
you jolt in surprise when taehyung reaches down and slips his fingers in between yours (which he later explains he only did because his hand was cold and definitely noT because he just really really wanted to hold your hand) before beginning to tug you along next to him
“well, we can talk about the fact that you thought the name of the book was catch her in the eye-”
“i knew you heard me! i knew it!!”
help me help you make your wishes come tru (aka send me a request)
why don’t you explore the rest of the library while you’re here? 
or perhaps you want something shorter to read?
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deerixiie · 4 years ago
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24/7 ramen.
description: you are iwaizumi’s home; even if he is forced to take you to a ramen place at 2 in the morning.
pairing: iwaizumi x gen!reader
genre/warning: banter, fluff, literally just filler dialogue with an overarching plot, light mentions of violence
word count: 1.8k
a/n: this was inspired by some headcanons im going to post. oh and this is for @hajiimes... hehe <3
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“I got into a fight.”
Iwaizumi paused, his phone hovering near his ear. He resisted the urge to let out a sharp laugh—of all the things, why did you have to get into a fight?—and slung his arm over his face. “And you lost?”
Iwaizumi could almost hear you pouting. “To be fair, they were-”
“But you lost.”
A pause. “Yeah.”
Iwaizumi dragged his hand across his face with a heavy sigh. “Why are you fighting people at,” he paused to squint at the digital clock on the dresser, “Two in the morning?”
“Ramen.”
“What?”
“Hot and spicy shrimp,” you said solemnly. “There was only one pack-”
“You’re aware we have finals tomorrow, right?”
“Exactly the reason why I wanted ramen.”
Iwaizumi sighed again. “Are you hurt?”
“Well, someone elbowed me in the eye-”
“The eye?”
“Yes the eye. I’m pretty sure it’s swollen, but other than that I’m perfectly fine.”
“Why do you sound so happy?” Iwaizumi asked, getting up to scour his closet for a hoodie. “You lost a fight over a pack of ramen.”
“Well technically, no one won the fight. We all got kicked out of the store. Poor guy didn’t even keep his ramen.”
“Which store?”
“Walmart.”
“You couldn’t have gone to a convenience store or something?” Iwaizumi pulled on the hoodie Oikawa sent him from Argentina and grabbed an old Godzilla hoodie from his closet.
“Haji, this is Socal, not Japan,” you condescended. Iwaizumi scoffed at how haughty you sounded. “I’m sure Socal has convenience stores,” he muttered.
“Well, Walmart was the closest.”
“You could’ve woken me up,” Iwaizumi grumbled, moving on to grab the keys off the drawer, “I would’ve taken you to a convenience store.”
“But you were sleeping.”
“So? You know how dangerous that was? I’d feel a little better if I was there.”
“Yeah, but I wanted ramen,” you sighed. “Anyway, can you pick me up, Haji? It’s getting cold.”
Iwaizumi shut the apartment door with a quiet click. “I’m leaving the apartment now.”
“That was fast.”
“Yeah, I had a feeling that you’d want me to pick you up.”
“Okay. Oh, and remember to drive on the right side of the road.”
“I know.”
“Are you sure? You almost drove into a tree last time.”
“Because I was tired.” Iwaizumi opened the door to the car, dropping the hoodie into the passenger’s seat. “Tired people don’t think straight.”
“Aren’t you tired right now?”
“No, I’ve been awake since you told me you got into a fight. You need to tell me what the hell actually happened there.”
“I told you, it was ramen,” you huffed. “There was one pack of spicy shrimp and three desperate college students in need of ramen.”
“So you fought for it.”
“I lunged for it, some other dude shoved me, I crashed into the third person, and then he was pushing them and I was on the floor and then someone’s elbow was in my eye and then the employee grabbed us and tossed us out.”
Iwaizumi took a moment to process your words. “You sound proud of yourself.”
“I’m not. I didn’t get the ramen.”
“No one got the ramen,” Iwaizumi deadpanned. “Isn’t that what you said?”
“I mean yeah, but now I can tell people I’ve been in a fight.”
“Why would you want to tell someone you’ve been in a fight?”
“I dunno,” you sighed. “I’m tired and hungry. Tired and hungry people say weird things.”
“Damn right.”
“That was an insult.”
“It was.”
“Ouch.”
Iwaizumi didn’t respond, lightly drumming his fingers against the steering wheel as he waited for the red light to turn green.
“My eye hurts,” you said suddenly, your voice crackling from the phone’s speaker.
Iwaizumi furrowed his eyebrows. “Does it hurt a lot?”
“No,” you decide. “Ramen would make it better.”
“So now I’m buying you ramen?”
“Yeah.”
“At 2 AM?”
“It’s 2:28 now.”
Iwaizumi scoffed.
“I found this ramen place that’s open,” you said. “24/7 Ramen. It’s 25 minutes from here.”
“Why is there a ramen place open for 24 hours?” he muttered, half to himself.
“It’s probably run by college students. That’s why the name is catchy too.”
“Catchy?”
“It sounds like a song. You know, 24 Karat Magic by Bruno Mars.”
“Never heard of it.”
“What?” Iwaizumi found himself flinching, despite the fact it was simply your voice coming from his phone’s speaker. “How have you been living in America for two years without ever hearing 24 Karat Magic? That song is a classic.”
“I think you’re forgetting you’re speaking to a guy born and raised in Japan.”
“Haji, you’ve been here for two years. That’s 24 months. 48 weeks. And a certain amount of days I’m too tired to calculate.”
Iwaizumi thought for a moment. “730.”
“730-” you paused. “How the hell did you calculate that so fast?”
“Dealing with stupid people makes you smarter, I guess.”
“No, ramen makes you smarter.” You sighed. “I really want ramen.”
“I heard.” Iwaizumi turned the steering wheel, bringing the car into the Walmart parking lot. “And I’m here now, so you can stop whining.”
“Oh, I see you. Do you see me?”
There was a figure sitting on the front curb, waving erratically in Iwaizumi’s direction. “I see an idiot waving at me like their life depends on it, so yes, I see you.”
“I think being around stupid people makes you grumpy,” you grumbled.
“No, having to pick my significant other up from Walmart at 2 in the morning makes me grumpy.”
You responded by scoffing and hanging up the phone. Seconds later, you were sliding into the passenger seat of the car. “Aw, did you bring a hoodie for me?” you asked, glancing down at the Godzilla hoodie that you almost sat down on.
Iwaizumi glanced over to you, raising an eyebrow. “Hello to you too.”
You rolled your eyes and leaned forward to press a quick kiss to Iwaizumi’s cheek. “Hi, I love you, thank you for picking me up. Happy now?”
“I’m ecstatic. Yes, that hoodie is for you.”
You smiled, pulling the hoodie on over your shirt and relaxing into the seat. Iwaizumi carefully looked over your face. The only noticeable injury was the ring of darkness around your eye—did they really elbow you that hard?—and a slight cut on your upper lip, but those would heal soon. He let out a quiet sigh of relief.
“What, is there something on my face?” you asked, reaching up to brush your fingers over your cheek.
“You have a black eye.”
Your eyebrows furrowed. “Damn. Is it bad?”
“No, not really.” He checked the dashboard for the time and slightly frowned. “Where’s the ramen place?”
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24/7 Ramen was a small convenience store in between an optometrist and a cigarette shop. On the outside, it wasn’t much. The name of the store was illuminated in large flickering neon letters. The exterior brick walls of the store were dusty and crumbling with age and wore. The windows were covered with assorted posters and papers, some for missing children, upcoming movies, and advertisements for Japanese snacks.
“Oh, so this is like a Japanese convenience store then?” you asked, looking at one of the Japanese ads. “I guess you were right.”
“Told you.”
“Just come on and buy me my ramen.”
The door opened with a familiar chime that reminded Iwaizumi of warm yakisoba buns, tangled with the sight of preppy school uniforms, and of course, Oikawa Tooru. The layout of the store was straight out of Japan, overwhelming him with countless reels of tender highschool memories. If he closed his eyes he could see himself standing right there, bag under his arm, Oikawa at his shoulder.
“Feeling a little nostalgic, huh?”
His head whipped toward you standing behind him with an amused smile on your face. “This place does have a Japanese feel to it.” You raised your eyebrow in that insufferably adorable way of yours, and Iwaizumi found it hard to breathe.
He stuffed his hands in his pockets as a flush began to form on his cheeks. “Be quiet.”
You hummed but made no other comment, instead choosing to shoot him another knowing look that made his blood roar in his ears. You started moving through the store, picking cups of ramen off the shelves. He hovered behind you, still embarrassed about his nostalgic moment—was he that homesick?—occasionally picking up cups of ramen and examining them before placing them back onto the shelf.
After what seemed like ages, you presented your armful of ramen cups with a proud smile. “I’m done.”
Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow. “I’m not buying you 15 cups of ramen.”
“But you promised-“
“Each one is like, 65 cents? I’ll buy you 5, max.”
“Why not more?”
“I’m just as broke as you are.”
You sighed in defeat. “Being broke in college sucks.”
“I told you we should’ve held off on getting a car.”
“But I wanted a car!”
“More than you want ramen?”
“That’s- that’s an unfair comparison!”
Iwaizumi continued to go back and forth with you, even as you paid for the ramen at the cash register. You were in the middle of a frantic explanation of why investing in a car was important in California when you finally made it outside.
The air was still and cool, save for the slight breeze that occasionally tangled in Iwaizumi’s spiky locks. The only sounds were the distant cars speeding across the road and the faint sound of crickets chirping, for you had both fallen silent after leaving the convenience store. Iwaizumi turned to look at you: one eye swollen, upper lip bleeding, a plastic bag full of convenience store ramen clutched tightly in your hand. He could see the fire in your eyes, that odd determination to make your own dreams a reality, no matter how fickle or ridiculous they were. It was similar to the drive he saw in Oikawa’s eyes, he realized. The reckless, worthless one that seemed to be a double-edged sword.
Maybe that’s why whenever he looked at you, he felt like he was at home.
“I love you, you know that?”
You cocked your head to the side and smiled slightly. “Where did that come from?”
He shrugged and stuffed his hands into his pockets again, turning away from your curious gaze. The corners of your mouth pulled up into a faint smile. Without warning, you turned Iwaizumi toward you with your finger and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. And then you were bounding off toward the car, the plastic bag jostling in your hand.
“Hey,” Iwaizumi called, starting after you. “Come back here so I can kiss you properly.”
“I want my ramen!” came your response from the car. “No kisses until I get my ramen!”
Iwaizumi chuckled softly. You were annoying and feisty, but you still managed to make him feel right at home.
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taglist in reblog; please comment/reblog with comments in the tags or in the post if you enjoyed!! i love hearing your feedback :)
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holylulusworld · 4 years ago
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The Roommate (2) - Living together
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Summary: You and John try to get used to each other.
Pairing: AU John Winchester x fem!Reader
Characters: Charlie Bradbury
Warnings: language, cocky John, flirty John, angst, a hint of mutual pining, mentions of sex, virgin reader
A/N: The idea for plot and some details came from @shooterere per request.
Divider by @firefly-graphics
The Roommate masterlist
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“Doll, can you tell me how this crazy coffee machine works?” John looks at your coffee machine, furrowing his brows. “That monster doesn’t want to give me my coffee.”
“Oh, you must push the red button, choose the coffee you want, press the blue button, and put a cup there,” you explain, pointing at your coffee machine. “Let me do this, you can check on the toast meanwhile.”
“I like your toaster, it leaves a nice pattern on the toast,” laughing John looks at your toast. “Is that a kitten or a dog?”
“That’s Hello Kitty, Mr. Winchester, “you tut. “It was a gift from my friend Charlie. She was in Japan and bought it for me.”
“It’s cute, somehow,” John tries. “I never saw a pink toaster. What else can it do?”
“Only toast,” shrugging you get the coffee ready. “What are you doing for work? We talked about everything but your job.”
“I own a garage,” he lies, hiding he owns more than one. “My sons and my best friend work with me. I like to get my hands dirty once in a while. Sadly, I’m busy doing paperwork most of the time.”
“Sounds interesting. I work part-time at a library and study economics,” you say, snatching the toast out of John’s hands. “I’m usually home till eleven and can prepare dinner for us. I made a list of what we will need this week. You can add what you like to eat. Maybe you want a sixpack of beer too.”
“Give me the list and I’ll check if you forgot something,” John watches you pour him a cup of coffee, smirking as you ask him how he likes his coffee. “Black, doll. Like my soul.”
You giggle at his comment, give your cocky new roommate a wink before you usher toward the living room. “I got time left to have breakfast and to load the washer before I go to the grocery store. Do you have dirty clothes?”
“Only my underwear and a shirt,” he grins, stepping inside the living room to lazily lean in the door frame. “I don’t know if you want to wash an old man’s boxers.”
“You’re not that old,” you stuff the toast into your mouth before you say something you might regret. Yes, John is elder than you thought when you talked to him on the phone but there is something about the man that makes your heart flutter.  
“If you say so, doll,” John purrs the words, pushing off the door frame to sit next to you on the couch. “I’ll be out of your hair till six. Do you want to cook? I can grab a snack on my way if you don’t want to.”
“I got the day off, John. I will cook if you tell me what you like. Do you eat meat or are you vegan?”
“Fuck no,” John shudders, looking at you in disbelief. “I want meat. I love meat in any form, Y/N. Soft and juicy.” eyes glued to your thighs John licks his lips. “And I love to eat it too.”
“Mr. Winchester,” you gasp, slapping his chest. “Don’t say something like that.” giggling nervously you look up at John who grins wolfishly. He set his eyes on you and will be damned if he can’t sink his teeth into you sooner or later.
“It’s true, baby doll,” he husks, leaning closer. “I would kill for a steak or a good burger. How about I bring the wine?”
“I’m not into alcohol, but you can have some wine if you want to, John. I can put it on my list,” you say, glancing shyly at John.
“Nah, sweetie. You cook and take care of the groceries and I’ll bring the wine. Tell me how much I owe you for the food and groceries.”
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“Beer, toast, eggs, milk,” looking at your list you cross out what you got. “Charlie, I need steak and apples.”
“So, how’s it going with Johnny boy?” Charlie smirks when you giggle nervously. “Babe, give me the juicy details. It’s been a week now. Tell me if you already fucked.”
“Charlie!” you tut, looking around the store to make sure no one heard what your friend said. “I did not sleep with John. He’s my roommate, okay. I don’t think it’s a good idea to hit on him and,” you sigh deeply, “even if I wanted to flirt with him, I’m not his type. I saw the pictures of his girlfriend on his phone. She looked like a supermodel.”
“Y/N, you’re hot, smart, and sexy. Don’t underestimate your value. I can tell, that guy almost ate you alive when he picked you up.”
“No, he didn’t, Charlie. Now let’s get the rest from my list and forget about John for a while. He’s a nice guy but not interested.”
“I bet he wants to do dirty things to you,” rolling your eyes at the quirky redheads’ words you follow her silently toward the next shelf. “Do you have condoms?”
“CHARLIE!”
“What? Better safe than sorry, babe. We will buy you a package of condoms and lube. Maybe some booze to loosen you up a little,” Charlie exclaims.
“I don’t want to be drunk when I finally have sex for the first time. And again, I don’t think a man like John would ever show interest in me. I saw him look at the pictures of his ex-girlfriend just yesterday. Maybe he even moves out again.”
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“Doll, that smells amazing,” John licks his lips. His stomach grumbles and you laugh when he drops his jacket and bag to usher toward the table. “It looks even better.”
“I thought as you moved in and all we could celebrate a bit. I made steak, potatoes, and green beans. I got the beer for you and juice for me,” you explain, handing John a bottle of his favorite beer.
“Baby doll, that’s amazing,” John pecks your cheek, smirking when you don’t shy away. “Thank you, sweetie. That’s the best day since ages for me.”
“You’re welcome. I got you everything you put on the list too. I made space for your things in the fridge,” you explain where John can put his groceries and how much he must pay you for everything. “Let’s eat first, I don’t want the food to get cold.”
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“Let’s get back to the rules. We already talked about the rooms you can use and the costs but,” biting your lower lip you try to gather the courage to talk to John about the women he will bring home.
“I get it, doll,” John smirks, sitting on the couch next to you. “You want to know if and when I will bring women to your home.”
“It’s your home now too, John,” you stutter. “I don’t want you to feel like a guest and I’m not a prude. I know men have needs and that you will find a girl sooner or later.”
“I’m not looking for a girl right now. The disaster with Sharon was worse enough, Y/N,” John watches you nervously tug at your sweater. “Except you want to become my girl,” he smirks, leaning closer to brush his fingertips over your hand. “I wouldn’t mind.”
“If we want this to work out we need more rules. A man like you would never be interested in me, I get it, but that’s no reason to make fun of me, John,” watching you storm out of the living room, angrily wiping your eyes John sighs deeply.
“Doll, I didn’t want to make fun of you,” he grumbles. “You’re sexy, so goddamn cute and I like you.” whispering the words John curses himself for being too pushy.
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“Doll?” knocking on your door John sighs deeply. “Y/N, can I come in, sweetie. Listen, I’m sorry. If you get to know me better, you’ll know I’m flirty around pretty girls. I’m sorry if you got it wrong.”
“John, I’m not pretty,” you sniff, opening the door to your bedroom. “I know you try to be friendly and get in my good graces, but this is not necessary.”
“Y/N, this was not about getting in your good graces. You are a cute girl and I like you. Please let me make it up to you. How about I get us dessert and we watch a movie?”
“Oh-okay,” nodding you look at John who gives you a soft smile. “I like vanilla ice cream the most.”
“Vanilla, got it, sweetie. You can choose a movie while I get the ice cream. Do you want anything else?”
“Maybe some strawberry sauce,” you grin. “I like strawberries.”
“Noted, doll-“
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“How was work?” watching another movie, the one John chose, you prefer to look at your roommate. He wanted to watch a horror movie and now the girls scream in terror. “Anything new?”
“I worked on a car today,” John says. “Bobby, my partner said we are ready to buy another garage.”
“Oh, that’s great – I guess,” you shrug. “The library called today and told me I’ll get fewer hours. Sucks. I worked there for four years and now there is that new girl and she gets more hours.”
“I’m sorry to hear, doll. Why not looking for another job?” stopping the movie to talk to you John frowns. “Hey, don’t cry, Y/N.” he says softly when you choke out a sob.
“It’s just, I finally could pay for everything. With my job, the part you pay, and the money from Mr. Talbot I had enough money.”
“Money from Mr. Talbot?” John asks.
“I help him with his papers, bookkeeping and everything else and he pays me a few bucks. You know, he’s eighty and got no one to help him,” you explain. “He was a good friend of my granny.”
“You got experience in bookkeeping?” nodding you tell John about your talent with numbers and that you love to work for Mr. Talbot. “You know, I could need help at my office. How about you give me a hand and work part-time for me and my partner?”
“John, I don’t need your pity. We shouldn’t live and work together,” you’d like to work for John but mixing work and your private life is a bad idea in your opinion.
“Y/N, I offered you a job to have someone at my office I can trust with my papers. Let’s talk about it with my partner Bobby, you’ll like the old geezer. He’s not as charming as I am but a good guy.”
“You want me to work for you?”  
“Sure, doll. Let’s watch the rest of the movie and tomorrow, you’ll come with me and we can talk to Bobby. I bet he’ll love you,” John grins, glancing at your cleavage. “Old geezer always had a thing for pretty girls like you…”
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The roommate tags
@boogiewoogiebutt​;
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dreadpoetssociety · 4 years ago
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I Told You So
TW: Suicide, abuse, kidnapping, blood, death
Note: Sorry for any spelling or grammatical mistakes, I didn’t go back through it LOL, but I may in the future. Enjoy !!! 
Request: “hi was wondering if i could request a reid x sister fic where the reader gets a boyfriend and spencer doesn’t like him and it turns out the boyfriend is an unsub. i love your work so much!!!”
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Sister!Reader
()()()()()()
When Spencer met your boyfriend for the first time, he told you immediately after that he didn’t like him. He began explaining the signs he was noticing, but you didn’t dare to listen. You told him he was a great guy, and that he was just being over protective because he was your brother. You told him to stop profiling everyone you meet, that who you date and who you’re friends with is entirely up to you, and that he should just let you live things out on your own. Of course, you did appreciate his concerns, but you just figured he was a bit overdramatic. I mean, you were all just kids, and of course Spence would have a biased view on you hanging out or dating someone.
Your boyfriend’s name was Noah. You’d been dating for about four months, he had wavy hair, dressed pretty plainly, very smart, and liked classic rock (Except Led Zeppelin, damn did he hate that band.) You’d met after the death of a mutual friend, Elaine Richards, a year ago, and the two of you became close after helping each other through such a hard time. You hung out all the time, called all the time, merged your friend groups together. Everything. And you loved him. Your friends all knew you both liked each other, and eventually, you finally went out on a date.
School had ended, and you had just got to the apartment to actually see Spencer in it, which was a very rare occurrence. 
“Hey Spence! I didn’t know you were off.” you said with a smile.
“I’m not, actually. There’s a case locally.” he said, which turned your smile o a frown.
“Well that’s not good.” you replied, trying to lighten his mood. He seemed stressed and aggravated, as that happened every once in a while when a case was particularly difficult. It always made you feel bad for him., “We should go do something before you have to go back. You know, some good ol’ sibling bonding.” 
“Sorry, Y/N, but not today. Serial killers don’t exactly wait for ‘sibling bonding.”” he sighed, annoyed. You figured at this point you’d just leave him to his thoughts, and decided to go out.
“I’m going out with Noah then. “ you replied, grabbing some of your things together. You didn’t’t notice, but this grabbed Spencer’s attention.
“No, Y/N, you’re staying here. This guy that’s out there is killing people who look like you. You fit his type.” he explained, “And I don’t trust Noah, not for a second.” 
“Jesus, Spencer, can you stop profiling literally everyone? There’s thousands of girls in this city that look like me, what makes you think I’m the one he’s gonna scoop up?” you realized that was a bit insensitive, and that you probably should care about those other girls, “Besides, wouldn’t it be safer to not be alone? You’re going back to the BAU anyway.” 
“Y/N, seriously, this can happen to anyone. You of all people should know that.” he answered. You knew what he was referring to. So a girl almost gets kidnapped once, and suddenly must live her whole life in fear.
“Spencer, that was a while ago.” you said in a small voice, “I don’ want to be afraid of it anymore.”
At that point, Spencer sighed and realized that he most likely shouldn’t have brought up the experience. He of all people should know that this was your way of trying to move on, and bringing up the past would mostly just set you back majorly, but his answer still stayed the same, “I shouldn’t have brought the up, but you’re still not going. I don’t trust Noah, you know that. Especially with a serial killer on the loose, Y/N. You’re staying home.”
This just pissed you off, “You know, you’re not right 100% of the time. You think you know everything about everybody you meet, but you literally do not. Noah is so good to me, and you just bash him and for what? I get you’re worried, but it’s started to get old. I’m not a kid anymore.” 
You walked off into your room without any other words being exchanged, and had decided you would just go anyway once Spencer left. You aren’t generally the rebellious type, but every once in a while you liked to have a little fun here and there. Spencer wasn’t home for long, after finding whatever it was he was looking for, and you just walked out the front door ten minutes after he did, texting Noah along the way. 
Your boyfriend lived nearby, so it didn’t really take him long to come driving up in his black sedan. You loved his car. It was so sleek, had a brown leather interior, a wood dashboard, and just drove beautifully. If he ever put it up for sale, you would buy it. But once you got into the car, you realized something was off. Noah seemed antsy, like something was bothering him.
“Hey, baby, what’s going on?” you asked, concerned. Noah got like this every once in a while, and you figure dit was just anxiety or something along those lines, and all you could ever do was jus be there for him.
“It’s nothing don’t worry about it.” he answered, somewhat blandly. Almost monotone, like he wasn’t happy to be there. But he was, and for what reason you were unaware. 
“Alright.” you said, “Let’s go to the mall, but not the one downtown, the one off the highway.” 
“No.” he snapped. He then recognized your surprised expression, “I mean, sorry, I just have a surprise for you.” this made you smile. Your boyfriend had always been a hopeless romantic, and he would constantly surprise you with nice dinners, cute gifts, and it just made your heart warm. He drove for a while, to an area you’d actually never been o that seemed to be completely secluded. There were empty fields, and eventually an old house that looked to be abandoned. You didn’t pass by much after that, except for one cemetery and a church. Even you had to admit, it was a bit weird, but knowing Noah, you knew to just be patient. He didn’t talk much the whole time, and just sat there smiling as he drove. The windows were closed, and you also noticed the doors were locked, but thought nothing of it.
“Spencer wasn’t even going to let me go out tonight, isn’t that so stupid? Like, he said some wack about some serial killer who’s been killing girls nearby. I looked it up, but they kinda seem to be right outside of town, like the dude’s avoiding it or something. I guess that girl from the Washington High soccer team got killed, too. It’s sort of scary.”
“That’s a shame.” was all he said in response.
Eventually, you pulled up to another house. It was absolutely destroyed, but you trusted him anyway. Stupidly. The two fo you walked in, and walked down to its basement. You knew Noah really dug these abandoned places, and you did, too, but the basement was full of rusted weapons, ropes, a table in the middle with restraints. It hadn’t clicked just yet.
“Noah, I don’t think I’m really fe-“ you turned around and were he was, gun in hand, pointe dat you, “What are you doing?”
“Get in the chair, and don’t scream.” he demanded. His whole personality changed. He was dominant, and his voice was heavier. You complied. He tied you tightly to it.
“So it’s you then?” you asked, weirdly calm. 
“Shut the hell up, Y/N.” and you did. You looked around you as he walked into another room. Looking to your right you noticed a shelf full of random things, mostly girl’s clothes and rings. Until you recognized one of them. A brown sweater with a tear in the shoulder, folded neatly on he bottom. Your heart stopped.
That was Elaine’s. And you had cut the shoulder open by accident after the two of you were messing around.
“Elaine?” you whispered, “You killed Elaine, didn’t you? She didn’t kill herself, you did! This whole time you faked it? You killed her and I mourned her and you pretended to feel with me? You killed her?” It was now that you fully processed what was happening. Your mind was racing, your heart was pounding, and all you could think about was the amount of clothes up on that shelf, and the fact that you were about to die. The items on the shelf far exceeded the numbers on the news. 
“I said shut the hell up, Y/N” he screamed, hitting you across the face with something solid, which knocked you out quickly, but not for long. The dizziness and pain when you woke up two minutes later was almost unbearable, and you had to re-process what was happening to you all over again.
Until your phone rang from the other side of the room. He must’ve taken it while you were out, and the ringtone was specialized to let you know that it was Spencer who was calling. 
“If I don’t answer it he’ll know. He’ll track everything from before I got here.” you said. Noah shot you a look, but promptly brought the phone to you. 
“Say anything, and I’ll make it painful.” he held a gun to you again, and your heart rate went up. He slide the phone open.
“Y/N?” you’d never been happier to hear your brother’s voice, “Where are you? I told you to stay home, and you’re not here.”
“Sorry,” your voice wavered slightly, “I just really missed Elaine Richards. I went to Southwoods Cemetery to visit her.”
Spencer sighed, “Please get back here as soon as possible, Y/N.” and he hung up. You prayed he picked something up.
()()()()()()
Spencer knew as soon as you spoke that something was wrong. Firstly, you’d never referred to your friend by first and last name, and Spencer actually hadn’t really known her last name until now, and secondly, Elaine wasn’t buried at Southwoods Cemetery. She was buried in the complete opposite direction, actually, at Rose Hill. He couldn’t pinpoint why you would say Southwoods, and why you would talk about Elaine, but he completely forgot about his case, and sped back to the BAU. 
The team knew instantly hat something wasn’t right when Spencer came back to the office. He couldn’t pay attention to the case evidence enough to put it together, and wasn’t staying on track.
��Reid, what’s going on?” Hotch asked him.  Spencer shook his head.
“Something’s not right.” he said, “Y/N went out earlier, but something’s not adding up.”
“I’m sure she’s alright, kid, teenagers go out all the time.” Morgan joked.
“No, no, really. I understand how the teenage mind develops, and how their brains develop. I know that rebellion is primarily a process that teens go through almost as a way to reject a “child” identity. I know that. But this wasn’t that. I told her not to go out, but she did anyway.” he rambled.
“Spence, kids do that.” JJ reassured.
“No, it’s not right. When I called to ask where she was, she would’ve lied. She wouldn’t have known I was home. She said she was visiting her friend’s grave, but she used her full name and said the wrong cemetery, her voice wavered, but nervously, not in a way that expresses sadness. If she had snuck out, she wouldn’t tell me she went there, and especially get the cemetery wrong when she’s been going to Rose Hill practically religiously. Southwoods is in an area she barely ever goes to.” he explained. Then his eyes grew a bit, “Garcia, can you trace her call?”
“I can try.” she said, rushing back to her computers, the team close behind. They knew not to question Spence, most of the time he was right. They all sat there for about three minutes before Garcia spoke up again, “That’s weird.”
“What?” Prentiss spoke up.
“Reid, her phone pinged off of like, twelve different towers in the two minutes you called her. I can’t track a location for the last hour.” she turned to him, concerned. The team all looked at each other worriedly. 
“We’ll have to split up, we’ve still go a case and this is off protocol.” Hotch broke the silence, bearer of bad news.
“No, actually, I think it’s the same case.” Spencer sighed. He looked up at them, “She fits the UnSub’s type.”
“You can’t be a part of this then, Spencer.” Hotch replied, which caused him to whip around, “It’s personal now. You’re  victim.”
“There’s no say in this.” Spencer had never defied Hotch’s authority before, but his sister was missing, “What do we have so far?”
“Well, we know he’s a sadist, white male, probably in his 30’s. He’d be social, fit in with a crowd. Probably good with the ladies, which means he sticks out, but not too much.” Prentiss relayed. Spencer thought for a moment. Who would you know that fit that profile at all. This UnSub seemed to make a connection with these girls beforehand. The team thought that maybe the victims were a surrogate to a daughter, or a sister.
“I don’t know how this related to Elaine and Southwoods. Southwoods is an hour and a half away, I had only been gone for about an hour, so she couldn’t have made it there yet.”
“Reid, who is Elaine?” Morgan asked.
“Elaine Richards. She was a friend of Y/N’s who died about a year ago. She committed suicide.”  Spencer explained. They were all silent for a moment.
“Garcia, can you bring up a picture of Elaine?” JJ asked. The analyst nodded and did so quickly, showing a picture of a brown hair, brown eyed, thin girl. It was saddening, really. They’re always too young. But JJ had confirmed her thought, “Spence, what if it wasn’t a suicide?” 
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“She fits his victim ideal, the hair, the eyes. Her file says she was smart, she had friends. They interviewed an ex boyfriend, her father, so on.” JJ explained, “What if Y/N stumbled onto something she shouldn’t have? Maybe Elaine was one of his victims staged as a suicide. The profile says he became active a few weeks ago, but what if it’s been a year? Maybe he’s been testing things out until he finally got something he liked.” 
“Garcia, bring up Elaine’s autopsy report. Is there anything about anything that matches up with his current MO?” Spencer asked, “Elaine was found at the basin of a bridge within the water. It was written that she had jumped off.” 
“Uhh,” she hesitated, “I’m not seeing anything. . . Wait. Yes, yes there is. The UnSub usually cuts three lines on their necks, right? Elaine had them, too, but there was loads of glass under her, so it was written off that she’d been cut when she reached the ground.” 
“This means he’s been at it for at least a year, then. The profile is wrong. This changes everything.” Prentiss sighed. Spencer still couldn’t pinpoint who you would’ve trusted enough that fit the rest of the profile, until it hit him. Noah.
“I knew there was something wrong with that boy.” Spencer said aloud, “Y/N’s boyfriend, Noah. He fits every part of the profile. We got the age wrong, he’s a teenager. He knew Elaine, too.”
“Noah’s the name of the ex boyfriend they interviewed.” Garcia stated. “Noah Allen.” 
“That’s him.” Spencer said, “What do we know about him?”
“Well, his parents are divorced, his mother lives somewhere in California while his father- oh geez. His father has a history of abuse towards his second ex-wife, who,” she stopped, “this poor kid. His second ex wife committed suicide after trying to file multiple reports of abuse towards her and Noah about three years ago. His father was finally convicted a year ago and sentenced to life in prison.” 
“That must’ve been the trigger. He blames her for his father being sent away.” Hotch said.
“But why would he be angry? Wouldn’t he be happy to see his abuser in prison?” Garcia asked.
“He’s lived with his father his whole life. Most likely he’d developed some kind of Stockholm Syndrome or was manipulated into thinking that’s how life was. He thinks his father can do no wrong.” Morgan said.
“But what’s this have to do with Southwoods? She wouldn’t have made it that far, and something tells me they were already at their destination.” JJ asked.
“Who owns Southwoods?” Spencer asked.
“Let me see. . . The Burke Family. They also own funeral homes.” Garcia said.
“Do they own any other cemeteries?” 
“Yes, one, Marshall Fields Cemetery. It’s in a more secluded area. It was considered completely full a few months ago.” she replied.
“Garcia, are there any properties around there that Noah’s family would’ve owned? Even a family friend?” Morgan jumped in.
“His uncle owned a house about a mile and a half up the road. It’s the only house in a two mile radius. It was foreclosed a few years ago and hasn’t been bought or even kept up since.” she said, “I’m sending you the address now.” 
“Let’s go.” Hotch demanded. The team ran to the garage and jumped into the SUV’s, but Hotch stopped Spencer beforehand, “You know you could get in trouble for this. This case is too personal.”
‘“I really don’t even care.” Spencer answered, quite informally. Hotchner sighed, and let him go.
()()()()()() 
It’d been a few hours by this point. You were beaten up, bloody, concussed probably. Noah had used a whole slew of different objects to torture you, pipes, knives, anything he could find. You could barely stay awake, but he wouldn’t let you fall asleep.
“I’m not going to let you die, yet.” he said with a twisted smile, “That ruins all the fun.” 
“They’ll come for you.” you replied faintly, blood dripping from your mouth. He yanked your head back by your hair, which caused a deafening wail from the bottom of your throat.
“They won’t find me. If they could, they would’ve by now.” he giggled. He tightened your wrists until you almost couldn’t feel your hands. Your shoulders were sore from being tied behind your back, but that didn’t amount to the pain in the rest of your body. You bleeding out practically everywhere, you could feel the start of every bruise forming, your head spun and pounded, and you were convinced you had a few broken ribs at least. 
“W-why?” you huffed out with tears.
“Why? Why? I’ll tell you why. I spent my whole life looking up to my father, but it’s women like you who ruin men’s lives. And for what? For attention? For power? You’ll never be on the same playing field, but the system is so messed up that it threw my father in prison for something that wasn’t his fault. He didn’t make Brenda kill herself, she did that on her own. And her reasoning? How she cried about him abusing us?” he let out a posh laugh, “That’s just how the world is. She should’ve known her place like I knew mine. And should’ve never spoken for me.” 
“Why me?” your face twisted in pain as you spoke, but if you were going to die, you at east had to know.
“I just told you!” he slapped you, causing you to sob, “It’s stupid women like you, Y/N. You just exist to ruin lives, and I’m going to stop you before you start.” 
But the door upstairs burst open just then, causing him to look. You smiled mischieviously, “They’re here. You better let them get to you before I do.” you threatened. It was an empty threat of course, given your state, but you felt so much rage that you honestly thought you might’ve killed him, too, which scared you.
“Noah Allen, FBI!” you recognized Emily’s voice, and it was like music to your ears. 
Noah had moved towards you and covered your mouth, holding a gun to your head, waiting for them to come down stairs. You watched frantically as you saw JJ and Morgan step carefully down.
“Noah, drop your weapon.” JJ demanded. At this point, Spencer, Hotch, and Prentiss joined them after hearing JJ speak. Spencer’s expression was horrified, and angry. 
“Death is an honor, you know.” Noah taunted as he pulled your head slightly back. 
“Noah, you don’t have to do this. If you cooperate, we can lessen your sentence, and we can negotiate a deal for your father.” Hotch said. Noah’s head turned slightly.
“That’s not how the system works and you know it. You’re lying!” he yelled.
“That’s not how the system works for civilians. I’m the Unit Chief of the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI. I can pull some strings, but only if you let her go.” he said. Spencer was surprised, Hotch never really used lying as a coercion, but he understood that all this boy wanted was his father to be free, and that he wasn’t a rational thinker. He’d fall for it.
“Swear? Swear on God?” Noah asked.
“Yes, Noah, I swear on God.” Hotch said. The boy lowered his weapon and came closer, but was startled when Morgan quickly, and not so kindly cuffed him.
“What? What are you doing?” he yelled out.
“Noah Allen, you are under arrest for multiple counts of murder. You have the right to remain silent and refuse to answer quest-“
“What the hell! You lied! I’ll kill you for ly-“
“Anything you say may be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to consult an attorney before speaking to the police and to have an attorney present during questioning now or in the future.” and with that Morgan walked him out with a few other backup, while the rest of the BAU rushed towards you.
“Y/N? Are you okay? Can you hear me? What hurts?” Spencer asked questions at about a mile a minute, but you ignored them.
“I g-guess,” you painfully said, “I guess this is that part where you say ‘I told you so.’ huh?” 
“Y/N, I don’t care about that.” he said, holding your face trying to check for any signs of concussions, that were definitely there, while Prentiss and JJ worked on getting you untied. One you were, you tried to stand up, stupidly.
“Woah, woah, woah,” Hotch said as you almost fell and hit the floor, “take it easy.”
You had your arm wrapped around Spencer while JJ had her hand pressed on your upper back and above your chest to keep you balanced.
“Heh, so humble.” were your last words before blacking out.
“A medic! Somebody get a medic, goddammit!” Spencer yelled, as he and JJ slowly followed you to the door, “Y/N? Stay awake.” 
()()()()()()
You woke up with bright white lines shining in your eyes. Confused you tried to sit up, but painfully failed.
“Y/N? Wait, Y/N, no, no, no, no, no, lay down.” you heard Morgan’s voice and felt him slowly and gently push you back down to the pillow, “How you feeling, kiddo?”
“Like sunshine.” you mumbled sarcastically. You heard Spencer chuckle, “I’m sorry. You were right.”
“Y/N, it doesn’t matter. I’m just glad you’re safe now.” he said. His face dropped, “Y/N, I’m honestly impressed by the hints you gave us. It was clever, and you just saved a bunch of lives.”
“They’re going to have to question you soon. They don’t care what condition you’re in.” Morgan stated.
“I don’t even really remember.” you whispered, eyes closing from exhaustion. 
“They’ll do a cognitive interview with you, then. It won’t be fun. But for now, get some rest.” Spencer knew that it didn’t matter what he said anyway, because you were already half way asleep. He was glad that you were falling asleep on your own accord, rather than from being knocked out or drugged up, and smiled at you. He swore then to do better at keeping you safe, and also not to underestimate you, either. How you knew that he would pick up on something as simple as a last name and a cemetery chain was beyond him, but it made him realize that you were actually much smarter than you ever let off. He patted your head gently, before falling asleep in a chair near your bed. 
434 notes · View notes
fatiguing-thoughts · 4 years ago
Text
“There’s a catch” - Jacob Black x Reader
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Request:  “ If you are taking requests, could you write a Jacob\reader on where they "hate" eachother and the reader is very good friends with Paul (always around the pack) and Paul being like "Sure. You know you like him, right?" and teasing them in general.”
“My god, Jacob… you’re so annoying!” I shout, throwing my hands up in the air.
“Yeah, you’re not so great yourself, princess.” He scoffs. 
“Alright, easy there, killer.” Paul laughs, picking me up and moving me. 
Jacob, as always was pissing me off. He just always had to butt in and say something to piss me off. 
I was in the middle about complaining about my car breaking down earlier today, having to walk in the rain to Paul’s house. 
I was rambling about how the engine overheated, causing me to have to pull over and try to figure it out, but to no avail. I was unable to get the car to start again. 
“Maybe you should have had that coolant in your trunk like I told you.”
“Maybe you should have listened to me.”
“Maybe if you weren’t so forgetful.” 
“Maybe if you actually listened to me.”
“Maybe if you would actually take care of your car.’
Statements like all of the above immediately came out of Jacob’s big mouth. Him insulting me and my competence for when it came to taking care of my car.
“Jacob, it’s a crappy old car! I used the rest of the coolant the other day in it, there’s a leak somewhere! Embry said he’d help me fix it, but he had to patrol. So he can’t fix it until Saturday.” I huff, rolling my eyes at the jerk in front of me. 
“Jake, maybe you could look at it.” Paul suggests, nudging his friend.
“Yeah, no thanks.” Jacob chuckles. 
“Alright, Paul you’re stuck with driving me to work the rest of the week.” 
“Please, at least teach me what to do. I can’t drive her to and from work, I can’t wake up that early.” Paul laughs.
“Eh.” Jacob smirks. 
“My god, Jacob… you’re so annoying!” I shout, throwing my hands up in the air. 
“Yeah, you’re not so great yourself, princess.” He scoffs. 
“Alright, easy there, killer.” Paul laughs, picking me up and moving me away. 
I find myself plopped down on Paul’s couch as Paul walked outside with Jacob. 
Jacob and I weren’t always so hostile towards one another. In fact, I used to have the biggest crush on him, but then he turned into a shifter and grew to be such a pissy guy.
Paul and I were always best friends, and he often brought Jake around. I thought he was a cute guy. He was nice, he was sunshine. However, that all shriveled up and died when he phased for the first time, and now we always bumped heads. 
Now almost every time we hang out, he goes out of his way to piss me off. I just want to punch his pretty face in. I did, I really do. His laugh just made it difficult to get pissed off, sometimes. 
But overall, I was ready to take Jake in a fight at any moment, he was always trying to get under my skin. 
Just like the other day when he invited everyone out, except for me of course, to go to the beach to hang out. I was sitting right at the same table, watching as the smirk plastered itself across his smug face knowing I was pissed off. Paul insisted I came anyway, so I did. I hung out with Paul and Jared, making fun of Jacob the entire time. It felt good to get under that thick skin of his. 
I heard them getting a bit louder out there, shrugging my shoulders. 
“Good, I hope Paul sinks some teeth into him.” I scoff to myself, smirking at the thought as I sat on the couch. 
Though at the same time, the thought of Paul doing anything to Jake also worried me. I’ve always felt a pull to Jake, even since he became such an asshole to me.
A moment later, Paul walks in the door with a smile on his face, Jacob trailing behind with his hand on his nose. It made me think about all the times Paul teased me about how he thought, or knew, that I had a crush on Jacob.
“Is it because you like him?”
“Oh so you know you like him, right?” 
“I can’t you won’t just shoot your shot.” 
“We settled it, so Jacob’s going to fix your car while I’m on patrol tonight. We’ll go pick yours up right now, sound good?” Paul asks, a triumphant smile on his face. 
“Yeah, that works for me.” I smirk, standing up. 
“Yeah, but you have to help him fix it.” Paul says, a devilish grin pulling at his lips. 
I look over to see Jacob, his eyes rolling. 
“Of course there’s a catch.” I bite my lip. 
Paul only smirks, grabbing his keys off the counter and making his way outside to his truck, Jacob and I following behind him.
I took shotgun, directing Paul to where my car was left. 
“Great, so you’ll be steering and Jake’s gonna push it. Good luck!” Paul yells through the open window as Jake and I exit the car, laughing his ass off. 
“Great.” Jacob scoffs, kicking the dirt on the side of the road. 
“Thanks.” I press my lips, bending my head down. 
I get into the car, waiting for Jake to get ready to push. Once I get the all clear, we were on our way to Jacob’s garage. Due to his inhuman strength, we made it there quicker than I thought. 
I get out of the car after it’s parked in his garage, quickly noticing Jacob’s shirt clinging to his abdomen. I immediately tear my eyes away from him and back to the car. My shoulders were shivering from the cold. The smell of oil and tools invading my senses. 
“I’m gonna change quick, but I’ll be back.” He says, running his hands through his soaking wet hair. 
I turn back to my car, popping the hood open to get a jumpstart to things. I turn the remainder of the lights on in the garage, knowing that we would need more light. I sat down on an empty crate, holding myself to keep warm. 
Jacob soon returns, a different t-shirt and pair of jeans on, a hoodie in hand. 
“Here, I can’t listen to all that teeth chattering all night.” He walks over, laying the maroon fabric on my lap. 
“Oh, thanks.” I raise an eyebrow, immediately grabbing the hoodie into my shaking hands.
I stand up, throwing the hoodie over my body. I watched as it fell well-past my hips and the sleeves slinging inches lower than the end of my hands. Shrugging, I make my way over to the front end of my car, joining Jacob as he watches me. 
I thought I almost saw a glimor in his eyes, but I knew that wasn’t true. 
“I have a tube that’ll be the same size as yours over on that shelf over there. Top shelf, blue bin.” He points over to the left. 
I nod, walking over to the shelf. I look up and see the bin he’s referring to, shocked that he thought I could reach it. I decide it was better to just try to reach it. I stand on my tippy toes, gripping onto the shelf with one hand, and reaching the other up as high as I can. I felt my body stretch, growing tired quickly as I tried to reach. 
I heard chuckling come from behind me, I go to turn around to give him a stink face, but when I do I’m met with his chest in front of my face. He simply reaches a hand over me, easily grabbing the bin and bringing it down, a smirk on his face as he looks down at my own, a blush creeping its way to my cheeks. 
“Forgot you were two feet tall.” His husky voice whispers with a smirk on his face.
I quickly exhaled, suddenly flustered with the close proximity of our bodies. 
He turns around, walking over to my car, beginning to take things apart. 
“So what can I do?” I ask.
“Nothing, you already failed task one. Can’t have you mess anything else up.” 
“Oh shut up, that was an impossible task. Sorry I’m not almost seven feet tall.” I roll my eyes, sitting on the work bench next to where he was working. 
“Alright fine, hand me the paper towels.” He laughs. 
The air was less tense between us than it had been in months, since the day he phased. 
I hand them over, he graciously takes them as he begins to clean the oil off the engine and wiping his hands off when he finishes that.
The garage was silent for a few moments as he did so, I had to try to tear my eyes from his arms as he was working on the car. 
“Jacob?” 
“What’s up?” He groans, pulling something out of the car and observing it.
“Why do you hate me? We were friends.” I look over, twiddling my thumbs. 
“I don’t hate you, (Y/N). It’s a bit more complicated than that.” He huffs, looking over at me with sympathetic eyes. 
“So why are you such an asshole to me?” 
“I don’t know, I’m stupid, I guess. Or at least that’s what everyone else says.” 
“I mean, agreed. But what is this all for then, Jake?” I ask, realizing that was the first time I actually called him Jake in a while. 
“I just, I didn’t know how to handle this all. I phased, which we both know I was pissed about. And then suddenly, I had no say in my life anymore.” He puts the tool down, standing in front of me.
“I understand, Jake. I’m really sorry… I just don’t understand why you’ve been upset with me, though.” I look into his eyes, furrowing my brows. 
“I just… it’s a lot. I was never ready to tell you about it, but I guess now’s a better time than any.” 
“What?”
“Listen, I… I always had a crush on you, alright? And then I phased… and something else happened. And it just felt like everything I had a say in was taken from me. My body, my time, and then my feelings. I just, I wasn’t ready to accept it, yet. I’m sorry I’ve been being a dick to you, okay?” His deep brown eyes meet mine, searching to see what was going on in my mind.
“Jake… I thought you hated me. I had no idea that you… ya know. I always had a thing for you, too. It hurt a lot when you were so cold to me.” I frown. 
“Well, it’s time I maybe start making up for it.” He smirks. 
I smile as I realize what was going to happen. His warm, large hand found the back of my neck, pulling me in for a kiss. It was quick, warm, and sweet. It was like electricity flowed throughout my entire body. Pulling away felt like an extreme absence of warmth on my lips. 
I rested my forehead on his, closing my eyes. My hand lightly gripped the hair on the nape of his neck. 
“And then, I’ll fix your car.” He lowly chuckles, removing his hand from the back of my neck, lowering it to my hand.
“Thanks.” I exhale, still in shock. 
We made our way back over to fixing the car, not really talking about what just happened, though the tingling never left my lips and the atmosphere surrounding us was heavy. 
He ended up finishing my car and handing the keys back to me. 
“Here’s some more coolant, but I think you’ll be fine. I fixed the leak.” He smirks, walking over to put the coolant in my trunk. 
“Uh, thanks.” I smile.
“Of course.” He looks at me, smiling awkwardly. 
“Thanks again for fixing my car. And before I forget, here’s your hoodie.” I reach down to the bottom of the hoodie, attempting to peel it from my body but a warm hand stops mine. 
“No, keep it. I think it looks better on you, anyway.” He smirks.
A ferocious blush invades my facial features, making him laugh a little.
I feel soft, warm lips press onto my forehead, a warm hand once again on the back of my neck. 
“We can talk more about it all tomorrow. It’s been a long day.” He whispers.
“Sounds like a plan.” I nod, walking to my car door and getting inside. 
“Goodnight, (Y/N). Let me know when you get home.” He smiles, watching me back out of his garage.
__________________________ Word Count: 2107
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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years ago
Text
Of something beautiful, but annihilating🚬2
Warnings: nonconsensual sex, violence and abuse, mentions of miscarriage, mentions of death [other warning to be added throughout series]
This is dark!fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: Reader’s husband brings home an unexpected houseguest.
Note: Still working a lot but here’s another chapter. I work gaming and the console launches are just killing me for real. Why do (some) gamers have to be idiots?
Thank you. Love you guys!
As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3
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You awoke stiff and cold. Your legs were tucked up under your nightgown as the early spring turned frigid in the night and your muscles ached as you fell onto your back. You were still young but you didn’t feel it. The deep snores still rose from the bed as you sat up and the soft light of dawn broke through the curtains.
You suspected that Roy would be just as unpleasant once it came time to rouse him. You got to your feet with a grumble and rubbed your tender stomach. You could feel the bruise and winced as you went to the closet to gather your clothes for the day. The usual; a plain blouse and dull skirt. Then you took a pair of old nylons, some underwear and your brassiere from the chest of drawers.
You wrapped yourself in a robe and crossed to the washroom to quickly clean yourself up before you dressed. You stared in the mirror, your eyes puffy with fatigue. You sighed and dumped your robe and nightgown in the bedroom before you continued on downstairs.
If there was anything that would placate your husband, it was food. Since your wedding day, he had put on quite a few pounds, not that he had ever been particularly slim. He had also aged more than three years of your union, though he was ten years your senior already. Well, your father and mother had about the same difference between them; it was far from unusual.
You took out your iron pan and placed it on the stove, a relic of the Depression era but still able to catch a flame. Your father was always proud of his old appliances. Before you were born and in the early years of your life, he’d worked hard to build not only the farmhouse but a home for his young family. Those years before the war had remained his most precious until the end.
You took out the tray of eggs and the small sausages bartered at a discount from the butcher. You hated to think of replacing the puttering fridge but you doubted it would hold up another couple decades. That in itself would be a battle with Roy. He worked hard for his money. It was difficult enough to negotiate a pair of nylons without holes from the terse man you called your husband.
You were startled as you heard a footboard whine. You turned and accidentally cracked an egg onto the floor as you did. Arvin was dressed in jeans and a plain tee. His overalls were slung over his arm as he entered.
“You’re up already?” You asked as you bent to clean up your mess. “Hope it’s not ‘cause of me.”
“I’ve always been an early riser,” he assured you, “Need any help with that?”
“No, no,” you stood with the egg and shell in your hand, “I think I can manage.” You went to the bin and dumped your handful. “You drink coffee? Orange juice?”
“I wouldn’t mind some milk, if it isn’t too much a bother,” he smiled. “But I can fetch it myself.”
“You don’t have to--”
“You keep saying that. I respect that this is your house, ma’am, and you’re used to doing all the upkeep but I don’t mind at all.”
You pursed your lips and nodded. You wiped your hand on a dish cloth and went back to adding eggs to the mixing bowl. You listened to his footsteps as they continued onto the dining room and he returned to search for a glass among the cupboards.
“Here,” you reached up and opened the cabinet, “Milk’s on the middle shelf in the fridge.”
He neared and grabbed a tall glass from the rows. He was awfully close as he did. He set the glass down on the counter and went to the fridge. You listened as he struggled with the handle.
“You gotta wiggle it. Don’t be afraid to put some muscle into it.” You chuckled.
The door popped open and you heard him grunt. You whisked up the eggs as he approached with the milk jug and filled his glass. He paused as he watched you work. A long silence rose between you, interrupted only by the clink of the whisk on the bowl.
“You got any laundry?” You asked suddenly. “I can manage another load today.”
“If it’s not too much,” he lifted the jug and slowly backed away, “The laundromat isn’t much for efficiency. Sometimes I think my shirts come out more stained than before.”
You listened as he put the jug away and took his glass from beside you. You felt his lingering gaze before he left you but ignored it as your tendency to overthink. He was a kind, young man and you had grown unused to that. 
You loved Roy, tried to at least, and you reminded yourself that he hadn’t always been bad. You hoped that he could be good again. Perhaps Arvin could help with that.
You moved stiffly around the stove. Your muscles strained more with each stretch of your arm or bend of your leg. The floor never left you in very good shape and your apron reminded you of the bruise that deepened along your torso.
When the eggs were fluffy and the sausage browned, you climbed the stairs to wake your husband. You stayed in the doorway as you called to him. It was best not to get close when he was hungover. 
He grumbled and threw a pillow. When you reminded him he would be late to work, he lobbed the lamp. It landed a good foot from you but still caused a thunderous thump on the floor before the bulb shattered.
You left him. He would rouse himself and be too late to bother much with you. He would also have an audience to keep him in line.
You went back downstairs and plated the food; you covered Roy’s before you laid it out on the table along with your own and Arvin’s. You sat across from your houseguest as he greedily eyed his breakfast.
“What was that?” He asked as his brown eyes flicked up to the ceiling.
“Silly me,” you twirled your fork nervously, “I tripped over the cord of the lamp and brought the whole thing down.”
Arvin nodded and his cheek twitched. He said nothing as he cut into a sausage and you pushed around your eggs without eating. Your appetite was soured by memories of the previous night. If fate and alcohol favoured you, Roy would not recall it so well.
“Did you sleep well?” You asked suddenly as you tried to distract yourself. “I know the attic gets a bit gusty, walls aren’t very thick and that couch is old…”
“I slept finer than I have in months,” he replied, “Thank you.”
“You’ve been down at the motel, Roy said. You new in town?”
“Was meaning to just pass through,” he swallowed, “But a few odd jobs turned into a full gig down at the garage. I used to fiddle around with my aunt’s truck when I was a kid and… guess I figured a few things out.”
“Oh? And where’s home? Is that where you were headed?”
“Leavin’, actually. Sometimes you just outgrow where you’re from.” He said wistfully, “Life shakes you awake and says ‘go or die’ and you’re too restless to wait around for the inevitable.”
Your mouth fell open. His face had fallen, a lifetime worth of worries and tragedies set in his thin lips and squared his jaw. He looked through you at the past that had chased him all the way to your doorstep. The naive boy fractured before you to the frightened young man. And then, he was gone.
He smiled and was once more firmly sat in the present.
“I know what you mean.” You said quietly.
“So…” He set his fork down, “You from here then?”
“Daddy’s house. Never left it.” You confessed, “Never had the courage to stop waiting, I suppose.”
“You got lots of time for that,” Arvin said, “You know, when life’s seemed to slow down, it starts back up all at once.”
You rubbed your fingertips along the tablecloth. You looked at your plate, your food barely touched.
“You okay? You’re not eating.”
“I’m fine,” you lied, “I didn’t sleep too much…. there’s this shutter that just knocks against the house when it’s windy, you know?”
He leaned back and considered you. He grabbed his glass of milk and drained it.
“So, how long have you and Roy… been married?” Arvin asked.
You heard the stairs creak and stiffened in your seat. You tapped your fork on the lip of the plate and cleared your throat.
“Three years,” you said as Roy’s grumbles grew louder. 
“Oh,” Arvin glanced over as Roy stumbled in and caught himself on a chair. You stood and uncovered his plate as he sat. He waved you away groggily and swiped up his fork. “A long time and not very long at all, then.”
“Mhmm,” you sat and watched Roy nervously. He said nothing as he shoved a whole sausage in his mouth and groaned. 
“Coffee,” he choked out.
You diligently went to the task of pouring him a mug and returned as Arvin watched him with a placid awareness. You set down the cup and Roy emptied it just as fast as it appeared.
“Too much beer, huh?” Arvin chuckled.
Roy tilted his head and gulped down his mouthful. “Maybe you’ll join me tonight,” your husband challenged. “Boy your size, one bottle’ll have you on your ass.”
“Probably,” Arvin said coolly. “Maybe I’m better stickin’ to water.”
You sat gingerly and looked between the two men. You realised how easily Arvin had distracted Roy. How he kept the temperamental man from his usual morning rage with a few words. You wondered if he had dealt with men like Roy before. Or maybe he had no idea what he was doing at all.
“You want me to drive today?” Arvin ventured, “You can close your eyes on the way.”
“Probably best you do,” Roy smacked his lips, “Don’t know I’ll be very useful at the garage.”
“Ah, just keep your head under that old Chevrolet and no one can tell you’re napping,” Arvin laughed at his own joke. “I won’t tell.”
🚬
You filled your day as any. Your chores kept you busy; laundry, sweeping, dusting, prepping dinner for the return of your husband and the houseguest you kept having to remind yourself of.
You made certain to fold Arvin’s clothes and stack them neatly in a basket for him. He didn’t have much; a few pairs of jeans, some tee shirts, two sweaters, and a denim jacket. You would search through your father’s stuff and see if there was anything worth salvaging.
When the old truck rumbled in front of the house, you were shoving a glazed ham into the oven. You wiped your hands on your apron and strode through to peek through the window. Arvin was quicker than Roy, smaller, younger. Your husband stomped across the gravel as the other man kept a deliberately slow pace behind him.
You opened the door to greet them as they neared the porch.
“How was your day?” You asked as you held open the door.
“A day that calls for a beer,” Roy snarled as he brushed past you. You couldn’t remember when he’d stopped kissing you; sometimes, you were certain you’d imagined he ever had. 
“It was good,” Arvin said softly as he smiled at you. Roy ambled into the front room and fell onto the sofa. “How was yours, ma’am?”
“Well enough,” you replied pensively as you watched your husband, “You want a beer too?”
“No, it’s still a bit early… Actually, I’ll get his beer.” Arvin said, “Why don’t you take a break?”
“She can do it herself,” Roy growled. “What else she gonna do around here?”
“I’m goin’ that way anyhow.” Arvin said. “Think I’ll get myself some water.”
“She’s my wife. She can serve me. Well, you would think she could.”
“Please,” you looked to Arvin pleadingly, “Just sit down.”
He stared at you and nodded slowly. His arm jerked as if he was going to touch your elbow but he backed away and turned to drag his feet into the front room.
“I have some Coke?” You offered, “If you prefer that.”
“Water,” Arvin said dully, “Thank you.” 
You slowly retreated but didn’t miss the way Arvin glared at Roy. He sat in the armchair and bit his thumb as he watched the other man. You spun before you could overthink it and scurried into the kitchen. You grabbed a bottle from the fridge and poured a glass of water. You hurried back to offer the refreshments and rung your hands as you hovered in the doorway.
“Your laundry’s on the landing,” you said meekly, “And Roy, I fixed the lamp.”
Roy merely belched as Arvin lifted his chin and sighed.
“Thank you,” Arvin uttered and set aside his glass, “Show me where that bed is and I’ll move it after dinner.”
“I--” You hesitated and looked at Roy fearfully. He was entirely unconcerned with anything but his beer. “Sure.”
Arvin stood and you led him to the stairway. He followed you up and bent to lift the basket from the landing. You turned to him and he was quick to take the clothes from you.
“I didn’t want to go up there without you knowin’,” you said, “Since it’s your space now.”
“I appreciate all you’ve done.” He hugged the basket. He pressed his lips together and peered back down the stairs. “Are you alright?”
You frowned as he looked at you again. You turned your hands out and shrugged. 
“I’m just fine.” You lied.
He squinted then his eyes fell to the clothes. “Well, you let me know if you need help. With anything.” He slowly edged away from you, “I might be payin’ Roy but I won’t be living on your hard work, ma’am.”
“I-- It’s my job to--”
“It’s his job to love you, with all due respect,” Arvin set down the basket and grabbed the cord of the attic hatch, “Ain’t no work hard enough at the garage that he can’t do that.” The stairs slid down and he picked up the basket again. He placed a foot on the bottom of the latter as he cradled the laundry in one arm. “I’ll be down for dinner.”
🚬
Several days passed with little change. Arvin barely seemed to affect things around the old farmhouse; he kept to himself mostly but helped where he could. Roy didn’t change either. His moods, his brutality, his demands. As you always had, you distracted yourself with your chores.
On Saturday, Roy announced that he was going fishing. Arvin refused an invitation and it didn’t seem to bother your husband. It did, however, make you wonder. Most men in the area were eager to be away from the homestead with a rod or rifle in hand. Well, it didn’t seem like your houseguest was most men.
You bid Roy goodbye. He was in a happier mood and let you kiss his cheek as he packed up his bait box. When he was gone, you went about your usual. You would sweep and dust the entire house before you started lunch; a small one as Roy took his with him.
When you got to the dining room, Arvin was at the table. He had a small, leather-bound notebook before him as he scribbled in it with a stubby pencil. He smiled as you hit the doorframe with the broom and apologized under your breath. He went back to his work and you went about your own, quietly, carefully.
As you bent to sweep up the dirt into the pan, you looked at him. His reddish-brown hair hung forward, the strands dangled along his nose. You stood and neared the table.
“I don’t know how you see anything,” you remarked.
He lifted his head and his hair tickled his cheeks. He chuckled and closed the notebook around the pencil.
“Guess I’m just used to it,” he said, “Do you ever sit down? Don’t think I could run around like you in those heels?”
You glanced down at your kitten heels. Not very high or fancy. You gripped the broom and leaned on it.
“I just think my feet are naturally curved now,” you kidded. “Sorry, if I interrupted you.”
“No, no, you’re right. I need a haircut,” he pushed his hair back and stretched as he bent his arms behind his head. “Been a while.”
There was silence between you. You weren’t sure why you’d broken it in the first place. Usually, you wouldn’t dare bother Roy. He always had the first word. And the last.
“I cut Roy’s hair. I could do yours.” You were shocked at your own words and snapped your mouth shut bashfully. “Or you could go down to Hannon’s and get him to give you proper trim. I’m just… offerin’.”
“Really?” He sat up, “If you wouldn’t mind. I’m tryna save my money for a car of my own right now. I’ll pay in labour? Got this old batter recipe I learned as a kid. Roy brings back some good fish and we’ll have some filets.”
“You don’t--” You voice died as he gave you that look. How many times had you said those words? ‘You don’t have to do that.’ You took a breath. “Bring a chair in the kitchen and I’ll get the scissors.”
You went to the kitchen and dumped the dustpan. You leaned the broom against the wall and searched for the scissors in the second drawer. You heard Arvin behind you as you took a dish cloth and turned to him. He placed the chair in the middle of the floor and sat.
You tucked the scissors into your apron along with the comb you kept with the old silver shears. You neared him and held up the cloth. “I’m just gonna tuck this into your shirt to catch the hair.”
“That’s fine,” he smiled at you as you bent to wrap the dish cloth around his neck and tucked it into his collar carefully. Your fingers grazed his neck and you saw him tense.
You backed up and took out the comb. 
“Where do you usually part it?”
“I usually just comb it back but then it just kinda… falls,” he snorted bashfully. “So, just wherever.”
You rounded him and combed his hair back before parting it along the left side. It split naturally from his crown and you did your best to be precise. You pulled his hair up with the teeth of the comb and began to cut away the length. The chopped ends fell over the towel and the shoulders of his tee. 
As you came around the front, he watched you with his deep brown eyes. You tried not to fidget against his intent gaze.
“Close your eyes,” you said and he seemed reluctant to do so. You began to snip as you let the hair hang to see the length and lifted it again to cut away more. 
“So, you got any records for the player?” He asked. The question surprised you but eased you.
“My daddy loved Sinatra and Crosby.” You said. “But I don’t suppose many listen to that anymore.”
“Well, some,” he said, “You ever listen to Ray Charles? I was down at the general store and they… they were selling his album at discount.”
“Oh?” You leaned closer as you softened the blunt ends of his hair, “I think… on the radio. Sometimes, I turn it on when Roy’s workin’ but I always make sure to turn it back to his station before he gets home or he--”
You stopped yourself and focused on your task. You didn’t want to mangle his hair. He had such nice hair. Soft and thick.
“Or he what?” Arvin opened his right eye.
“Or, you know… he just gets real upset. The dial on that old thing is so fussy,” you moved around him so the heat receded from your cheeks. “Just don’t want him breakin’ it.”
“You think he’d break it? Over that?” Arvin asked gently.
You chewed the inside of your lip. “No,” you said after a pause, “No, Roy can be grumpy but he wouldn’t…” You sniffed and combed his hair, “Maybe we can dig out some of my daddy’s records when I’m done.”
“Maybe,” he said evenly as he tapped his fingers along his thigh. “A little music might brighten this place up.”
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hanoella · 3 years ago
Text
Affettuoso- With Feeling (Part 1)
Pairing: Bucky x Pianist!Reader
Set after the events of TFATWS: In an effort to start over and make a home in Louisiana, Bucky meets a friend of Sam's who ends up being his landlord. With only a driveway to separate them, he finds that he's not the only one looking for a fresh start.
Series tags/warnings: Slow Burn, Eventual Bucky x Reader, Mentions of Domestic Abuse, Canon Level Violence
Read Part 2
---
After everything that happened with the Flag Smashers and the GRC, Bucky thought that laying low with Sam in Louisiana was a good idea. He had been looking for a fresh start anyway. Between losing Steve and making his last amends, New York as of late had only been full of sad memories and regrets. Louisiana was so different- slower paced and fresh, no negative feelings. No feelings at all, actually. Sam was more than understanding, letting him stay with them until he found a semi-permanent place here.
Currently, Bucky was staring out the window, watching the breeze make little waves in the grass as he ate his sandwich. Sarah and the kids had gone out to the boat, making the house feel virtually abandoned. There was too much space and not enough people. For just himself, it was only a reminder that he would continue to stay as he always had- alone.
Sam walked into the kitchen where Bucky was, effectively breaking his train of thought. He raised an eyebrow at Sam’s mischievous smile- or maybe it was a regular one. He always looked like he was up to something, at least to Bucky.
“Great news,” Sam started. “I just got off the phone with a friend of mine. She’s moving down here for some work and is looking for someone to live on the property with her.”
“She?” Bucky questioned.
“Listen, I know what you’re thinking but before you say anything else, let me explain. So she already bought the house, it’s less than 10 minutes from here so you can still see us whenever you want. The property’s a couple acres so it’s got tons of space. It comes with an apartment over the shed, so you don’t have to share walls. She keeps to herself so she won’t bother you,” Sam said, counting the pros on his fingers as he talked.
“And the best part is: you don’t need to pay rent. I explained the situation, with you being a hero to the world and all, and she said as long as you can help her out with the heavy-duty stuff like taking care of the property and the occasional repair, you don’t have to worry about it.”
Bucky eyed the couch that had been his home for the past several weeks. Don’t get him wrong- being here with the boys was fun. Unfortunately though, he was still in a place in his life where he needed time to think, heal and meditate. The nightmares, although less frequent, were still occurring. Sam was always supportive, but Bucky didn’t want to keep putting him out. Sam noticed the hesitation and spoke.
“You don’t have to decide right now, but she’s moving here in a few days and could at least use some help. She said we could go look at the property now- no pressure though. You’re welcome to stay here as long as you want.”
Bucky paused a moment before nodding.
“Okay, let’s go.”
---
Sam turned into a dirt driveway lined with low hanging trees on one side and a field on the other. Bucky wouldn’t have even noticed it if not for the mailbox on the street.
“See, well this is perfect for you, it’s back in the cut.” Sam said.
Bucky could understand from context clues that that meant secluded. Probably.
It took a few seconds down the driveway before the trees on the left cleared and the water was visible. On the other side, there was a light green house with white trim. With the typical Southern architecture and porch, it was the picture perfect place to live. No neighbors- just trees and water.
Sam whistled as they pulled up at the end of the driveway by the house. Now that they were closer, Bucky could see the large garage on the opposite side of the driveway. It almost looked like another house but much smaller, and with a small dock in the water. The bottom floor of the garage had two large doors that opened upwards, and one regular doorway. The top floor had several windows with curtains in them, shrouding the inside. Getting out of the car, Bucky walked around the car to where Sam was opening the door to the garage.
Going in to inspect the garage, Bucky blinked to adjust to the dim light. He looked around to find several yard tools, some cans of paint on shelves, and a riding mower. On the back wall was a door. Hearing a rustle, he turned to find Sam feeling up on the highest shelf.
“Found it!” He said triumphantly, holding the key to the apartment up.
Walking over to the door on the back wall, Sam unlocked it and pulled it open. Bucky poked his head through the doorway and looked up to the staircase at his left. He turned to meet Sam’s eye, who shrugged before gesturing to Bucky to take the lead. It led up to the top floor of the garage, which was fitted with an apartment that turned out to be nicer than he thought.
It was simple but in good condition. Dark hardwood floor, white trim, pale steel blue walls. Where they had walked up was the living room. Directly across from it was a kitchen area with a veranda to walk out on. The open space then shrunk to a hallway to the left. The bathroom being the first door and a bedroom at the end of the hall. Overall, plenty of space for one person.
“I don’t know about you Buck, but this place seems perfect.” Sam said as he opened the glass sliding door to the veranda. It overlooked the undisturbed landscape, hidden from the nearby town.
“It does.” Bucky responded simply.
He took a moment to walk out onto the veranda with Sam and view the birds wading through the water.
“Well good,” Sam said with a chuckle. “This way, you can stop hitting on my sister.”
Bucky laughed and punched him in the arm. Sam feigned physical and emotional injury.
“Haha, Very funny.”
Sarah was a nice gal, but focused on her life at the moment. Sure, there had been a few sparks, but ultimately she had made it clear that her priority at the moment was her boys and her business. Bucky had been a good sport about it. It just felt good to be back in the game without it feeling forced.
Sam watched as Bucky stared out at the water before switching to a serious note.
“So… You feel like you’re ready?”
Bucky slowly nodded.
“Yeah. This is it.”
Sam smiled wide as he handed the key over and placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Welcome home.”
---
Bucky had very few belongings from New York that came with him. A small wooden table with chairs. A few books. A bed, a couch, a TV. There wasn’t really a whole lot that couldn’t be replaced if needed. He had been able to take the trip to and from in a few days, already moving his belongings into the apartment. The only big thing he had done was bring Steve’s old Harley out of storage. He probably should get a car at some point since it wasn’t the city anymore but he’d figure it out.
After saying goodbye to Sarah and the kids, Bucky opened the door to Sam's truck.
“Promise you’ll visit?” shouted one of the boys before clinging to him.
Bucky smiled and patted the kid on the back.
“Of course, I will.” He said, looking at the other boy before gesturing for him to join the hug.
“Uncle Buck’s not going anywhere boys,” Sam promised across the center console from the driver’s side.
Both boys eventually peeled off of Bucky’s side. He got in the truck and rolled down the window.
“Be good for your mom okay?” He said to the boys as he waved and nodded at Sarah, who smiled back as the truck started.
“Okay, bye!” They shouted until Bucky could no longer see them in side view mirror.
He really would miss those kids.
They drove in comfortable silence until they pulled up to the house where a light blue sedan was parked next to a storage pod that had been delivered. After parking by it, they exited the truck as you were stepping out of your car.
“Sam!” You exclaimed cheerfully, as you went in for a hug. He lifted you slightly off the ground and you laughed, smiling wide. Bucky stood to the side and observed the interaction, giving you a once-over. You were dressed appropriately for the work you were about to do- light-wash high-water jeans, a white t-shirt with a chest pocket, canvas shoes, and hair up in a slightly messy bun with a few gold bobby pins thrown in to hold back any loose wisps of hair.
After Sam set you down, he turned to Bucky and introduced you.
“… and we met during a charity event that Tony hosted. She offered her services free of charge to help us raise money for the VA.”
You held a hand out to Bucky.
“It’s very nice to meet you! Thanks so much for helping me move in, I really appreciate it.”
Bucky smiled lightly and nodded as he shook your hand.
“Nice to meet you too.”
You smiled and took back your hand before looking at the house.
“Shall we?” You inquired, gesturing towards the storage pod.
“Of course,” Sam replied, opening the door to the pod. As Bucky looked inside, he noted that it was mostly just boxes. The noticeable items were the same as his: the bare minimum- besides a fancy electric piano.
“How’re you gonna fill up this house with a few pieces of furniture?” Sam joked.
“Hey, it’s better than having too much stuff! Besides, don’t guys always say that women have too much stuff?” You quip back as you reach for one of the larger boxes in the pod.
“Ah-ah-ah, no you don’t,” Sam said as he intercepted you and picked up the box.
“Oh, c’mon Sam. I’ll feel bad if I make you guys do all the heavy stuff.”
“You’re not making us do anything. Besides, I’ll be fine, and the old man could use some exercise,” he said, nodding towards Bucky.
You smiled timidly at Bucky.
“I have a bad shoulder.” You explained while gripping the top of your right arm.
“I get what that feels like,” he sympathized, nodding to his metal arm.
“Ah, yes, I’m sorry, it’s not nearly as bad-”
Bucky cut you off.
“Don’t be sorry. If it’s hurting you, don’t worry about it. We can handle it.” He said gently, pausing for a moment before continuing.
“Or at least I can.”
Sam tilted his head back and feigned hurt feelings while you picked up a lamp base and shook it lightly at him.
“Does this meet your approval, Mr. Wilson?” You asked teasingly.
“Why yes, yes it does. Now come on.”
He walked into the house, you right on his heels. Bucky eyed the two of you together for a moment before picking up a few boxes himself.
---
A few hours later, he was sitting on the worn leather couch next to Sam while you went to get them some drinks in the kitchen. You appeared under the white trimmed archway into the living area holding three glasses.
“One sweet tea for the guest, one lemonade for my new neighbor, and a half and half for the gracious host.” You said, holding up your glass after handing the others out.
You three clinked glasses and you sunk into a sage green armchair with dark wood.
“So… how does this work?” Bucky asked, taking a sip of his drink.
“Mmm, yes.” You said, swallowing the sip you had taken.
“Uhm, basically whenever you’re not off saving the world with Captain America,” You started, smiling with pride at Sam. “If you could just make sure the grass doesn’t get too long and help me with some of the more physically demanding repairs and jobs around the house, that’d be great. Of course, that only applies if you’re here, and even then, as long as it’s not urgent, you can take your time getting around to it. Other than that, you’re free to do as you please.”
“That’s very generous of you.” He remarked.
“Well, don’t say that yet,” you said while laughing. “The property is huge so it might be more of a challenge than you think. But like I said, there’s no need to rush to anything. Besides, I should be thanking you. You’ve done a lot for the world.”
Sam interjected before Bucky could respond, which was okay because he still wasn’t used to accepting thanks instead of apologizing.
“Where’s my thank you for saving the world?”
You rolled your eyes and sarcastically rattled off a thank you. Bucky cleared his throat after a moment.
“Anything you want me to start working on?”
“Oh, please get settled in first. I have some furniture getting delivered that I might need help assembling in a few days but otherwise, there’s nothing else. If you have any expenses like paint or tools, you can just use this card and let me know.” You said, handing over a credit card.
“We should also exchange phone numbers too. What’s yours?”
Bucky stalled a moment before rattling off the numbers. It was a foreign feeling- giving out his phone number. He was most definitely having PTSD from his therapist chucking his phone at him. He watched as you typed away on your phone. Feeling his phone ping, Bucky looked at it and saw a message from an unregistered number.
“Hi, It’s me :)”
“That’s my number. Obviously.”
Bucky nodded his head in thanks while registering your number. It had been a while since he had added anyone’s number. You and Sam started talking about something else while Bucky exited back to the main list of contacts. There, your name was italicized and highlighted at the top. What a strange feeling.
Later that night, Bucky was relaxing, enjoying the peace. It was warm for autumn, and the water was reflecting the moonlight. He couldn’t sleep. Not that that was surprising. He walked out of the apartment down to the small dock to sip on a beer and celebrate his newfound independence. Sitting on the edge where his feet barely touched the water, he leaned back onto his hands and took a deep breath in.
That’s when he heard it.
Just barely, with his enhanced hearing, he could hear your crying. It was like you were wailing in pain. Not a sharp new pain, but an intense never ending one. The kind that you hear from an animal that’s been maimed- the kind you put out of their misery. Whatever you were holding in, it had been building up for an impossibly long time and finally, exhausted, you found a chance to let it out. Being able to hear it felt like a dirty invasion of privacy.
Bucky swallowed and took another deep breath before trying to focus on the sound of the wildlife around him. But it was no use. Here you were. Here he was.
No longer the only runaway seeking refuge.
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