#i'm sorry this is vague. this is really only pointed at one person who i don't really want to publicly humiliate | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

haologram · 28 days ago

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pink stationery ❤️‍🩹 w.jh

synopsis: everything with junhui has been a step towards something, but neither of you are very clear on what when it comes to the other. genre: co-workers to lovers ; angst, fluff. pairing: office worker!wen junhui x fem!reader word count: 7.9k rating: 18+. minors do not interact. warnings: it's stupidly vague and i'm sorry for that. minimal swearing, i guess? mentions of eating and food. they're just stupid what to listen to: starstarstar - dosii ; take me - miso ; say yes - seventeen ; heart burn - sunmi ; i was made for lovin' you - kiss. author's note: i'm going to be honest, i've been having a really hard time with life and i just wanted to write something regardless of deadlines and expectations. i also don't care if it makes sense, i just wanna write. i love my collabs, though, and they will get done. i just want to be vague and mysterious and stupid for a moment in time and not worry. welcome our beloved junhui to the haologram blog <3 i've missed him so dearly. [star dividers] by @/saradika-graphics here on tumblr, and thank you to cam for the bar name! enjoy!

HE SMELLS LIKE LUMBER SOMETIMES.

He smells like the tree trunks he chops for firewood at his cabin on the weekends, and he picks up pinecones. He dusts them off and examines them, and the best one is always promptly delivered to your desk by lunchtime on Monday afternoons.

That was the extent of your relationship with him, and really, any of your co-workers. He’d never spoken a word to you (not that you could remember, anyway) but has somehow figured out that you like pinecones. Particularly not ones that smell like cardboard boxes from the home section at Marshall’s.

No one speaks to you unless they need something, and rarely does someone need something from you as a person.

No invitations to drinks after work – you see them enough as it is. You hang up on remote meetings without saying much of anything, and you’re usually the first to leave the call without so much as a goodbye. Your emails and short and dry, signed off with only your name. You avoid the catered lunches provided by whatever restaurant your company paid out and stick to wedging yourself into the sixth-floor storage room with your package of fruit snacks and a sad turkey sandwich. There was a pink chair in the corner that you liked and tried multiple times to convince Mike (the janitor) to let you have but he refused.

You do not make eye contact during breaks, and you don’t stop by the break room for coffee or complimentary muffins. You lied about why once, when you were asked by a coworker – and absently claimed a gluten allergy, only to be seen eating bread a few hours later. That coworker hasn’t spoken to you since, and you don’t think she plans to.

But him?

He started talking about two years ago, a year after you joined the company. He started talking too much, you could argue, but he would say it’s just enough.

He’s too friendly, you thought. He dropped by your desk with a warm cup of tea every morning, if not your precious Monday morning pinecone. He slid a soft, lemon-blueberry muffin under your nose with a soft smile every once in a while. He asked you to lunch, to drinks, and he always sent you a separate follow-up email after remote meetings when he could very well just add your tasks to the bottom of the mass list he always sends in the group mail.

He was just above you on the corporate ladder, but you felt no pressure to answer him in terms of social interaction. He didn’t make it a point, either – he just existed in your vicinity, and only came into your space when you allowed. Quite like a cat, you are.

He told you about his life, quietly, calmly. He told you about how he learned wushu growing up, and how he played piano. He told you about how he got the cabin as a gift from a friend who was moving abroad, unlikely to return and much less spend time in the quiet woods surrounding your town. He told you about his late-night snacking habit, about his cat, Luna. He told you about his best friend, Minghao, and how he was the best man at his wedding a few years ago.

But above all?

He listened to you.

He looked at you like every word from your mouth held weight, carefully nodding along to your mumbled stories of troubled childhood. He listened to you talk about your favorite dish, your favorite color, even your theories about how middle children suffer the most. He laughed at your wry jokes, the dry humor – though he would bite it back at the deadpan comments you’d make during department meetings.

He always sat next to you in those department meetings. His knee was always just barely brushing yours, the soft material of his slacks making your skin prickle as it touched your bare thigh. He’d pass you doodled notes on his pink stationery with My Melody on the edges. He always adjusted the hem of your skirt down subtly when you stood up and pushed your chair in after you skirted around it. He waited until you’d gathered all your materials to leave, walking alongside you back to your desk even if his was across the office.

And it made people wonder what about you had his attention so deeply.

You’re not interesting to any of them, you never had been. You’re a liar (about a gluten allergy, of all things) and the kind of quiet that made them feel stupid if you looked at them for too long. They felt like you were judging them, when really – you were hoping they’d speed up their long-winded questions to end the painfully awkward social aspect of you fixing their problems.

Sometimes, he’d send you home early to help you escape their judging eyes.

He’d send you an email – the subject line usually only taken up by “🏠?” The body usually contained nothing more than a new picture of Luna, but you always appreciated it.

He’d be looking over the edge of his monitor to watch you hear the dreaded Outlook ding, your eyes slightly lighting up at the sound before really brightening the moment you saw it was him. You’d look over the edge of your monitor, raising a brow that didn’t hide your shy smile as you sent him an email back before quietly packing your bag and slipping out of the office.

It was always just a meme you’d found during your lunchtime Pinterest scroll – one you’re sure he’d seen you add to your shared board.

Because, of all things, he’d chosen to first share his Pinterest with you. You saw his dream home, vintage cars, cool jewelry and the stupid memes he liked you send you in the middle of the night when he was thinking of you.

You still reread that text, he sent it over a year ago.

MESSAGE FROM: Wen Junhui ♡ [2:32AM] of course i think about you. [2:33AM] i think about you all the time. after breakfast, when you try to sneak out of the office to hide in that storage room upstairs. even outside of work, sometimes i see things i think you’d like. but i mostly think about you now. [2:34AM] i think it’s a comfort that you pass my mind before i go to bed. or maybe just an association i've made with the fact that i check our board every night to see if you’ve added anything. [2:35AM] but...i prefer the former, honestly. goodnight, y/n. sleep well. ♡

You added the little heart to his contact name that same night.

Granted, things between you and him never went further. He talked to you, he walked with you around the office, he gave you many ways to contact him outside of work even if you never texted him first. He shared moments of his day with you if you missed work or worked from home – which was rare and always worried him. He would send pictures of a lone pinecone sitting on your mousepad if you weren’t there when he delivered it, followed by whatever random emoji he felt fit the mood. Sometimes it was a hazelnut, sometimes it was a cat.

Sometimes, it was the heart wrapped in a bandage.

You tried not to overthink it.

But it was hard not to notice the whispers about him.

How a lot of your coworkers talked about him, and how cute he is. How sweet, smart, gentle. How he’s soft-spoken until he’s around his friends, even though you knew that his best friend was just as soft spoken. He worked two floors down, Xu Minghao.

You met Minghao and his wife (and the rest of their shared friends) the first time you were ever invited out for drinks – and the first time you ever hesitated to say no.

Junhui managed to get you right in the nick of time, too – right as the clock struck five. You hadn’t even gotten a chance to log out of your programs when he leaned over the wall of your cubicle with a twinkle in his eye that made your chest ache.

“Have a drink with me. My friends are coming, too, but you know. I’ll be there.”

And you had more than a drink – you had a good time. You had three blood orange margaritas and a sip of his beer, but it was like you were shining brighter than a million suns. You let yourself sink into the soft vinyl of the booth, surrounded by him and his scent and his friends. You let yourself talk, out loud and with gusto about everything. You were uninhibited, and you remember how they all warmly smiled as Junhui pushed your hair out of your eyes as you talked about how there was no way the megalodon shark was extinct.

He walked you home that night, the two of you a little too tipsy to navigate the train or drive. He walked on the sidewalk closest to the street and held your pinchy heels in his fingers, letting you skip around and complain about the humidity. He only smiled, his hip bumping yours every once in a while, when you swayed a bit too far.

When you got back to your apartment, he waited against the railing in front of your doorstep to watch you step inside. You remember hesitating before asking him if he wanted to come in for a nightcap.

His eyes widened, and for a moment – he considered it. You saw how his eyes flickered to your lips, before he cleared his throat.

“Maybe another night. Thank you for coming out with me tonight, I hope it wasn’t too overwhelming.”

It hadn’t been, but his soft rejection was certainly disappointing. You shook your head then, staring at him for a split second more before speaking.

“It was nice. I’d...I’d like to do it again, sometime. Just us.”

You smiled softly, before giving him a curt nod and slipping into your apartment before he could respond. You leaned against the door, sliding down the cool wood before hearing him utter a soft goodnight.

Since then, the two of you had gone for drinks over and over again – just the two of you, and with his friends. When it was just you, he’d talk about everything and anything under the sun. But when it was with his friends?

They really liked you, enjoying the excitement that they never saw in the office. One of them, Kwon Soonyoung in finance, offhandedly mentioned that they hadn’t known you and Junhui were friends until he started mentioning you at random moments. Your face had felt hot as the rest of them giggled and agreed, with Minghao’s wife letting it slip that ‘random moments’ meant any time he could.

“Yeah, he brings you up a lot. Oh, Y/N likes this. Y/N would love that. Y/N, Y/N, Y/N. It’s so cute.”

You don’t remember Junhui refuting it, but you remember the flustered blush that settled in his cheeks after that. Things between you and him didn’t change, though.

Until they did – one month, three days later, Junhui got a girlfriend.

It was like he had vanished entirely – gone were the warm cups of tea on your desk, the muffins, the pinecones. No more invites to lunch or drinks with him or his friends. No longer did you receive emails asking if you wanted to go home early, no more pictures of Luna, no more separate follow-up emails outlining your tasks after remote meetings.

None of it really bothered you, until you realized that your shared board hadn’t been updated by him in a while. Then, you noticed it, truly – he'd unfollowed you. Pinterest, Instagram, even Spotify. Spotify!

He didn’t sit next to you at department meetings, either. No more passed notes, no more pushing your chair in. And he rushed out right after, not bothering to even speak to you.

And people noticed.

You hadn’t realized that by allowing yourself to associate with Junhui and his friends, you became more than a blip on people’s radar. People knew your name; they knew your face. The girls gossiped about what he could possibly see in you, unaware that you were reapplying deodorant in one of the stalls. Men speculated about your relationship status, wondering amongst themselves if you were open-minded – while they stood outside for a smoke, making you scrunch your nose in disgust at them for more reasons than one.

People knew you – his friends, still said hello in the hallways. Minghao, gave you warm smiles and extended invites to drinks that you’d swiftly decline – with excuses of working late, of being tired, or whispering that time of the month. He always nodded, smiled...but you knew he didn’t believe you.

Once you realized Junhui was avoiding you for what you believed was a girlfriend, it took you less than twelve hours to get back to your reserved demeanor. As long as you didn’t make noise in your cubicle, no one came around – and people realized then that your gaze wasn’t mean to intimidate or judge, but to time. You didn’t want to talk to anyone you didn’t have to, more than you needed to – and that was bothersome to most of them.

Of course it was; in their minds, they’re great.

They’re a catch, they’re fun to be around.

But they’re not him.

They’ve never cared to ask you a single thing about yourself beyond your relationship status and where you got your shoes. You always just stared until they left or mumbled something about the local DSW.

Things with him never returned to the easy friendship you thought was starting to form, even as you rung in the new year at the company party. It made you sad.

Maybe because you had a bit of a crush on him, actually.

You thought a little too hard about the meanings behind his messages, the pictures of his weekend retreats to his cabin that he insisted you were always welcome at, especially if his friends were there. You missed the shared memes, the shared playlists, the way he’d sometimes find you inside the sixth-floor storage room, sitting on the dusty pink chair that always made him smile a little too fondly.

You liked Junhui, more than just a cubicle crush that you could discuss with your girlfriends that you didn’t have.

But he had one. One that meant more to him than you ever would, even with the way he opened his heart to you.

You thought about what he shared with you – videos of him playing the piano at Minghao’s wedding for his first dance with his wife. He shared his presence and comfort, often walking you home and your hands always brushed. You felt like a schoolgirl every time you’d tuck your hand into your pocket. You once got caught in the rain together and stood under the bus stop before he fished his headphones out of his pocket and gave you one.

He played starstarstar by Dosii as he pulled you out from under the safety of the bus stop, and the two of you walked to your apartment instead. Hand-in-hand, soaked to the bone, with the string of his headphones forcing even more proximity that made your cheeks heat.

You don’t remember who interlaced your fingers. If it was you...you’re still happy. It means he was okay with it, maybe he wanted to.

If it was him?

He definitely wanted to.

However, it’s all filed in your memories now – because you look over your monitor to see his brows fixed in concentration as he types across his keyboard, with you not even a blip on his radar. You watch carefully as he reads his own words over and over, before his eyes flicker up and meet yours.

You’re not surprised when his shoulders sag for the umpteenth time, and he looks away.

Like he wants to say something. Like he wants to talk to you, but the words get caught in his throat and he can’t seem to get them out. It’s been a year since you’ve spoken, and you would’ve forgotten the sound of his voice if he wasn’t your co-worker – but you never forget that night last spring, drenched in the rain.

You would’ve kissed him; you could have kissed him.

It’s spring, again.

You walk to the train station after work in silence, with nothing playing in your headphones for the first time. You sit in between an elderly couple and a lone high school girl absently staring at a long thread of messages on her phone. They’re all left unanswered, and she repeatedly fills the text box with words before deleting them and starting over.

You feel like that girl – except she’s brave enough to ask for answers and you’re gripping your purse in a claustrophobic panic.

It’s a Wednesday in summer when you finally get tired of waiting for answers. Almost a year to the date when he first asked you to get drinks with him, you get an idea.

Have a drink with me tonight.

That's all it says.

You stand over the copy machine, the sticky note you scribbled on moments earlier folded neatly in your hand. You wrote and rewrote it at your desk, your hands trembling and smearing the ink. You had to walk past his desk to submit the paperwork you were making copies of, and you planned to slip it onto his mousepad on the way back to your own.

You don’t get a chance to do that, though.

Your eyes are closed when you hear the copy room door open, but you don’t bother to look up as that same woodsy smell fills your nostrils.

He doesn’t speak, but you know it’s him.

You know, from the smell of lumber and the click of his shoes and the tension that makes you feel suffocated as you peer over your shoulder. He’s silent, thumbing at his own paperwork. He only glances up when he feels your eyes on him, but this time, you don’t look away.

His jacket is gone, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and tie slightly loosened. You’d stare if it wasn’t against girl code to ogle someone else’s man.

You turn, fully facing him as your last copy gets stapled by the machine and slides out. You gather them in your arms, before holding them to your chest and holding the sticky note out to him between two fingers. He glances at the hot pink paper, swallowing carefully before reaching for it.

You give him a soft smile, before spinning on your heel and heading out of the room without a word.

You’re moving at lightning speed to get out of the office before he can get a chance to catch up with you – shoving your copies into your manager’s hands with a rushed run-down of the day’s events and outages. You thank her with a bow, before beelining for your desk and yanking your purse out of the bottom drawer.

You make it to the elevator without him noticing you, your eyes catching a flash of his white shirt and the hot pink paper unfolded in his hand.

You feel your phone buzz in your hand as you reach the lobby.

NEW! Message From: Wen Junhui (WORK) [5:32PM] where?

It’s nearing seven when he finally has the courage to get out of his car.

He’s been sitting in front of the bar for ten minutes, hoping to see you walk by. If you’re late, you won’t notice that he is.

Message From: Y/N ♡ [5:35PM] at dizzy’s [5:35PM] 6:30?

He waits another three minutes, watching the corner before his hand finally grabs the door handle and pulls.

He sees you almost instantly, sitting quietly at a booth in the back. You’re not in your work clothes anymore, instead wearing a soft red dress and your hair is pinned back. You’re smiling at the waiter, who seems to be really interested in talking to you as he slides a margarita on the table. He holds the menu out, only for you to shake your head.

He watches your glossed lips shape around the words: I’m waiting for someone.

Him. He’s the someone.

He wants to be the only one. Ever.

He tongues his cheek as the waiter nods, patting the vinyl of the booth above your head. You lean your head back slightly, closing your eyes as your forefinger picks at your thumb’s cuticle. A nervous habit of yours, one he’d picked up on the first time he spoke to you.

About pinecones, actually – but you don’t remember that at all. He doesn’t know what possessed him to bring them up – but he learned, through your hushed whisper in the elevator that morning – that you liked them. You like pinecones, because they are so diverse while all still being the same thing.

He hadn’t understood it then, but he did now – albeit differently.

He was like the pinecones, because he tried to show you that he liked you in so many ways...through the invites to drinks, the lunch, the shared memes.

The pinecones.

Sliding warm tea on your desk and lemon-blueberry muffins, to cracking jokes and passing notes to you on his pink My Melody stationery. To pulling your hair out and brushing your hair out of your face, to letting his friends embarrass him by practically outing his interest in you every time they got together with you and him for drinks at this very bar.

To walking you home, even in the rain, just to spend a little more time with you.

Only to realize that it was futile, because you didn’t see him that way.

You didn’t see him as more than a friend, but he’s not brave enough to tell you why you should.

“Hi.”

Your voice is smooth as he finally slides into the booth opposite you, his skin warming at the sound of it. He clears his throat, giving you a curt nod as he adjusts himself in his seat. He shrugs off his jacket, tossing it to the side before feeling guilt begin to settle in his stomach.

“Sorry. I was...”

He gives up on coming up with an excuse, only running his hand through his hair as you nod. Your manicured fingers stir your straw in figure eights, the flash of an heirloom ring you never take off catching his eye. “I’m sorry.”

“For?” Your eyes are curious, before tilting your head. “Being late? It happens.”

He shakes his head like he doesn’t know, before clearing his throat again when the waiter swoops in to save the day. He internally thanks whatever God is out there as he asks for a beer, earning a scrunch of your nose as the waiter nods and leaves once more.

You don’t say anything as he shifts, only stare. Maybe through him, maybe into him.

He doesn’t mind the warmth of your gaze. He never has.

“I didn’t know getting a girlfriend meant you’d treat me like I never existed.” You start softly, his eyes widening as you purse your lips. “I understand creating distance, because there is someone new. Someone who could perceive you and I as something more, when it’s not.”

“I...I don’t know what to say.” He admits lamely, the shock of you thinking he has a girlfriend not yet settling into his bones. “Who told you I have a girlfriend?”

You only shrug, taking a quick sip of your drink before shaking your head.

“Does it matter?”

He blinks, when the waiter slides the beer bottle on the table as he passes by. He touches it, the glass cold as he tongues his cheek.

If this is a way to get over you, by getting you believe there is someone else when there isn’t -- he’ll take it. He’ll take it because then it means he never has to tell you how he feels, and he’ll never have to face the way you reject him so kindly.

“I guess not.” “Mmh.”

You trace circles into the side of your glass with your thumb, before another smile graces your lips.

“Are you happy?”

How could you ask him that?

Of course he’s not happy.

He hasn’t had a proper conversation with you in an entire year, and he’s been too much of a coward to admit that he wants more. He wants to kiss you in the elevator, in the break room, in the storage room on the sixth floor during your lunch break. He wants to hold your hand on the way to department meetings, under the table at drinks with your friends, on the walk to your apartment before you pull him in for a good night kiss. He wants to come into your apartment for a fucking nightcap without knowing he’ll say too much and lose any chance of ever being more to you.

So instead, he pulls away.

He stops talking to you, he removes you off every social media platform he can think of, so he doesn’t have the urge to peek at your dream home board on Pinterest, or the way your dream wedding is so similar to his. So he doesn’t have to be subjected to the cute outfits you post on your Instagram story before you leave your apartment for work, even though he’ll just see it when you arrive and he’ll have to take a deep breath so he doesn’t scream about how nice you look.

So he doesn’t have to know that you’re listening to the playlist he made for you to stay calm in the packed morning train on the way to work.

On the way to him.

“No.”

Your eyes soften, your brows scrunching in that same worried way they do when you’re listening to someone explain their problems to you at work. You nod, that comforting look of understanding glazing over your eyes.

“Can I ask why?”

He doesn’t bother responding, his mind racing as he thinks about all the pinecones sitting in his car, the ones that he’s deemed perfect enough to place on your desk but hasn’t been able to. He thinks about the way you slip out of the office and how your heels sound as you sneak upstairs to the sixth floor during lunch. He thinks about when Mike caught him off-guard by coming down to his desk and saying that you liked a pink chair that was in the storage room and kept asking about it.

A pink chair that used to belong to him, when he first got the company a few months before you did.

He sighs, fishing his wallet out of his pocket and sliding two twenties on the table.

“No. It’s better if you don’t.”

He doesn’t allow himself to look at you as he slides out of the booth, his hand gripping his suit jacket much too tightly for it to go unnoticed. You don’t stand, only nod as you take another sip of your drink.

“I hope it gets better. Have a good night, Junhui.”

He fights back tears as he makes his way out of the bar, your understanding look stuck in his mind as he drives home. He doesn’t bother looking at the pinecones in his backseat or changing the playlist that blares through his speakers when he connects his phone – a playlist you made for him, for his long drive home from work.

You’re in everything he holds dear to him. The music, the cabin – even if you’ve never been there. You know him, everything about him that is worth knowing in his eyes.

Except the fact that he’s in love with you, and that he’s a liar.

JUNHUI ISN'T AT HIS DESK ON THURSDAY. OR FRIDAY.

The whispering starts on Monday, with lots of wayward glances towards you and you almost want to go down to Minghao’s desk and ask if Junhui is okay.

But you don’t -- you glue yourself to your chair until lunch time, only to see that the pink chair you loved is no longer in the storage room. Mike tells you that the original owner took it out on Wednesday night and offers a soft apology. You shake your head and say it’s okay, before turning around and going back to your desk.

You arrive at your desk on Tuesday morning to your desk chair missing. There is a warm cup of tea on a coaster, and a cranberry orange muffin in front of your keyboard – but none of it distracts from the sudden pop of color next to your mousepad.

A plastic pink storage box.

You don’t bother to put your purse down as you crack the corner up, and your eyes widen as you realize it’s full of pinecones. There’s an envelope attached to the underside of the lid, and you pluck it off carefully before leaning against your desk. You peel it open gently, only to see the familiar pink My Melody stationery.

Junhui.

You ignore the urge to look up at his desk to see if he’s watching you over his monitor, feeling eyes from your co-workers trickling in as they spot the pink box. His handwriting is scrawled in purple ink across the stationery, and your heart sinks as you take in the slightly smudged words.

My Y/N,

I’m sorry about Wednesday. In fact, I’m sorry about the past year that I’ve gone without speaking to you. I have no excuse, only an explanation that probably won’t make things any better but will certainly give you some clarity.

I pulled away because I knew things would get too much for me. I’ve got a weak heart, and I can’t take rejection well – so I figured I’d cut ties first. It never worked, cutting contact with you; I found myself constantly missing the sound of your voice. I wanted so badly for you to reach out first, but I should’ve known better than to expect that when I was the one who wedged my way into your life. Our friendship was fun, and I miss listening to playlists with you during the walks to your apartment, but it simply can’t be anymore.

I like you so much, it’s painful to be around you and know you don’t feel the same.

I wanted to kiss you that night last spring. The rain and everything, it felt like a movie. Maybe that’s corny, and maybe it’s too forward but it doesn’t matter anyway because nothing will come of this. I’m sorry, for being too much of a coward to ever explain this to you in person. And for telling you now, through a letter written on stationery.

With this, I’ve got to admit something; finding out that you think I have a girlfriend when you’re all I’ve been able to think about since that first day we spoke is insane to me. Where do you get your gossip from? Is it a subscription? Unsubscribe effective immediately.

Speaking of effective immediately, I’ve taken a new position at a new company. So not only am I a coward for confessing this way, but also because I’m running away from it all. I don’t think I could handle not going home to you, even after seeing you all day. I’m not equipped for the agony of a silent, one-sided office romance that you read about in books.

I recommended you for my position. Don’t worry, people won’t talk to you nearly as much as they do now; but still...have fun, yeah?

I hope you enjoy these pinecones, for whatever you might end up using them for – and the pink chair. Funny, it belonged to me when I first got to the company. That’s why Mike never gave it up, but he told me you liked it so I figured you should have it.

Now it belongs to you! Quite like my heart.

Have a good day, Y/N. I’ll miss you.

Always and forever yours, Junhui ♡

Your chest aches as you realize all the opportunities have slipped through your fingers.

“Miss Y/N, Mr. Wen said he’d like for you to have this.”

Mike startles you as you see the pink chair being rolled behind your desk, the fabric pristine and the small stain from spilled coffee at the edge is gone. Your fingers flit across the headrest, before you look at him with tears in your eyes.

“Guess he changed his mind, huh?”

He only smiles, nodding his head before turning on his heel and leaving.

You look at the cup of tea. It’s still hot, so it must’ve been placed recently. You glance over at his desk; how vacant it looked. Almost like how your chest feels after having your heart ripped out.

You don’t really notice that you’re moving until you’re in the elevator, nervously nibbling on your lip as you frantically press on Minghao’s floor number while balancing the box of pinecones on your hip. It feels like an eternity as the damn thing jostles, and you nearly trip as it finally opens on the third floor. You beeline for Minghao’s desk in the back, only to see him quietly arriving with his headphones slid over his ears and his wife’s lipstick still stamped on his cheek.

He glances up as he feels your presence behind him, his eyes widening before a smile graces his lips.

“Y/N! What brings you down here?”

“Where is he?” You blurt, your hand still holding the note. He raises a brow, sliding his headphones off and onto the desk as he takes a seat in his desk chair.

“Where is who, sweetheart?” “Junhui.”

His lips form an o-shape, making him nod before he shrugs.

“Why should I tell you?”

You gape at him, almost losing your grip on the box on your hip.

“Because you obviously know, and if you care about me–” “Tell me why I should tell you, Y/N.”

You huff, your cheeks hot as you tap your foot. He tilts his head, an expectant look in his eyes before he speaks again.

“I do have work to do, you know.”

“Because I need to tell him that I...” You choke on your words, scoffing out a humorless laugh as you feel your eyes sting with tears. “Because I need to tell him that he’s an idiot.”

“You can text him that, you know.” “I’d rather die than text him how I feel.” “So, you admit you feel some type of way about him.”

He grins, slim fingers typing his password into his computer. You scowl.

“I never said anything of the sort.” You argue, and Minghao gives you a look that says, really bitch?

“You like him. It’s obvious to all of us, everyone in this office.” He reaches for his water bottle, his fingers aptly flicking the cap open. “So, admit it. Admit you have feelings for Wen Junhui, and I’ll give you the information you want.”

You look at the crumpled stationery in your hand, your heart swelling slightly at his handwriting.

My Y/N. Always and forever yours, Junhui ♡

“I love him.” You mumble softly as you stare at the paper, not catching how Minghao’s eyes widen. “I’m in love with him, Hao.”

A single tear rolls down your cheek and you quickly wipe it away, before looking up to see Minghao looking at you with a soft glaze over his eyes.

“I expect you and your boyfriend to get drinks with my wife and I this weekend in exchange for this.” His tone is warning as he reaches for a pen, his hand swiping a sticky note off the pad. You nod, ignoring the way your cheeks heat at the idea of Junhui being your boyfriend as he holds out the green paper. “Here, leave that. I’ll keep it safe, so you don’t have to lug it around.”

He holds his hands out for the box, and you hesitate before carefully placing it down. You open the corner, taking one of the pinecones out with a wince as he raises a brow before you shove it in your purse.

“I can explain.” “Over drinks this weekend. I’ll work out your attendance with your department manager.”

You smile gently, glancing down at the sticky note. It’s an address to an apartment building.

“Thank you, Minghao.” “Go, sweetheart. You’ll get caught in the rain if you stay any longer.”

And you go.

You don’t bother waiting for the elevator, practically flying down three flights of stairs. You sprint out of the lobby, nearly slamming into yet another of Junhui’s friends, Joshua, before yelling an apology over your shoulder. You make it outside, holding both pieces of paper in one of your shaking hands while the other fishes your phone out of your purse.

A fat raindrop falls on the screen as you map out how far the address is, and you almost welcome the cool water falling onto your cheeks as you run to the train station.

NEW! Message From: Hao [8:02AM] day 1 of my best friend being a traitor. how is working from home, you bitch?

Junhui snorts as the message comes in, settling carefully in his desk chair. He feels a bit alone as he texts back a simple, I’m sorry; the usual soft chatter of the office replaced by the sound of his aircon blasting. Everything feels too casual – his white t-shirt tucked into his blue jeans, the softness of his house slippers instead of his usual heavy dress shoes. He feels like he’s waiting for a lunch date with one of his friends, rather than signing into work for the day.

He looks over the edge of his monitor, no longer seeing your warm eyes looking back at him; but a cat calendar flipped to July. He rolls his shoulders back, sighing inwardly when his phone buzzes incessantly on the desk.

Your contact photo fills the screen.

INCOMING CALL FROM: Y/N [PLEDIS]

He feels the entire world stop. His breath is caught in his throat, and he suddenly can’t feel his limbs. He watches the phone ring until the call fails, nearly falling out of his chair as he stands up and grabs it. His hands are shaking too hard for him to press the missed call notification, only for you to call back again.

His chest is tight as he shakily breathes out, his thumb swiping across the screen to answer it.

“Hello?”

“I wanted to kiss you that night, too. I have never once though back to that night and didn’t feel regret knowing I didn’t kiss you.”

You sound slightly out of breath, and the sound of rain is loud in the background. He feels his stomach drop to his ass; feet rooted to his spot in his office.

“Y/N, I–” “You don’t have to say anything. Just come outside.”

He blinks as the call ends, staring at his reflection in the dark screen.

You’re outside.

“Shit.”

He nearly stumbles as he darts out of his office, beelining for his coat closet and shoving his feet into a pair of sneakers. He grabs the umbrella that leans against the frame of his front door, not bothering to grab his keys as he fumbles with the lock and throws the door open. A rumble of thunder startles him as he quickly shuts the door behind him, his fingers trying to fiddle with the umbrella when he hears your voice echo through the complex.

“Junhui!”

He glances over the railing, his eyes darting all over the courtyard before spotting you a few feet from the stairs. You’re wearing the black dress you wore the first time he’d spoken to you, and the attempt to wear open-toed shoes was ruined by the rain.

“Wen Junhui! Get down here!”

He feels laughter bubble up in his chest as he realizes you’re completely drenched, your hair is stuck to your face and your dress is practically dripping like the clouds above.

“You come up! It’s pouring out here!” “No, you have to come down here! I came all this way, it’s only fair!”

He can’t really see your smile from where you are, but he can hear it. He can hear it and it’s like the rain doesn’t matter. It’s like this very moment proves he was an idiot not to overthink all those intimate moments between the two of you – the way your eyes would light up at his stupid emails, the way you’d let his hands linger on your neck or ears after brushing your hair out of your eyes. All the playlists, all the similarities down to the fact that you both want marigolds for your dream weddings.

The way you interlaced your fingers that night last spring, and he’s so glad you did.

“Junhui!”

He shakes his head, dropping the umbrella on his doormat before sprinting to the staircase, hearing his heart pounding in his ears as he barrels down the stone steps.

“What...what are you doing here? You’re going to get sick, I...”

He trails off as he realizes you’re staring at him with a sparkle in your eye he can’t swallow. Your smile is all teeth, and he feels his chest ache as you shrug innocently. You take a step closer, tilting your head.

“I thought you wanted to kiss me.”

He feels his cheeks hot, and he absently runs a hand through his hair.

“You’re drenched, Y/N.” “I was that night, too. We both were.”

You shrug again, before stepping out from under the stairwell back into the rain. You hold your hand out, the rain pelting it as he hesitates to take it. You wiggle your fingers, making him tongue his cheek as he takes it, letting you pull him out into the rain. You hand slides up his arm and cradles his jaw gently, and he fights himself not to lean into it but ultimately fails.

“I told Minghao I’d tell you you’re an idiot.”

He snorts, “Is that on his behalf or yours?”

“Mostly mine, but I’m sure he has his own things to say about the matter. A year, Junhui? A whole year.” Your lip is jutted in a pout, and he sighs as the rain starts to soak in through his shirt. His hair is starting to stick on his forehead, and your hand swipes it back.

“I’m sorry. I know that it’ll never be enough to say it, but I truly mean it.” He gently touches his forehead to yours, his heart warming at the way you peer up at him through wet lashes. “I don’t blame you if you don’t forgive me, either. It was a shitty thing to do.”

He hates how your eyes soften, because he feels his knees grow weak as your other arm loops around his neck. He tentatively wraps his own around your waist, pulling you closer and he swears he sees your smile grow shy.

“I wouldn’t have come all this way if I didn’t think hearing you out would be worth it.” You say softly, and a rumble of thunder makes you both flinch. A laugh escapes you, before your thumb strokes his cheek gently.

“Is this still like last spring?”

He smiles softly, “No.”

“Did you ever think this would be the first time you get to kiss me? Like this?”

He laughs, “No.”

“Is it better, though?” “Considering I’d hoped we would’ve gone on a date—” “Say yes before I regret coming all this way.” “Yes.”

Neither of you move, but he feels it. He feels the same feeling of want he did that night, the same feeling of yearning that floated off you without a single word. You tilt your head up, your nose brushing his lightly .

“I’m really cold.” “I told you to come up.” “This is more romantic.” “I hope you know ‘romantic’ can also cost you three sick days at work.”

“You’re worth all my sick days, Wen Junhui.” You mutter, pressing your lips to his. He can’t help but smile into it, his arm tightening around your waist as his other hand cups your face softly.

All the warmth from your eyes, the bashfulness of your smiles, the kindness of your heart is too much for his heart to handle. He can’t believe you’re really here, in his arms...your lips so, so soft and eager against his.

“We have to go inside. You’re going to get sick.” He forces himself to pull away, his heart melting at the way you chase his lips slightly. You frown, and he can’t help but press a chaste kiss to your pouted lip. “We can kiss all you want inside the apartment, I promise.”

You don’t seem embarrassed at all as you smile at the mention of it, even if he feels his own cheeks grow hot as you nod. He feels his entire chest swell slightly as you interlace your fingers with his and pull him towards the stairwell, biting back his giddy smile.

YOU SMELL LIKE LUMBER SOMETIMES.

You smell like the tree trunks he chops for firewood at his cabin on the weekends, and you roast his marshmallow for him – despite Minghao’s teasing.

He still picks up pinecones. He dusts them off and examines them, and the best one is always promptly delivered to you at lunchtime as he drops by the company to whisk you away. The lunch invitations that once meant you’d be holed away in the storage room with a less-sad turkey sandwich from the deli down the block, now meant you’re getting bombarded with kisses before he finally lets you get out of his car with your to-go cup of iced tea.

That wasn’t nearly the extent of your relationship with him. Now, he has a photo of you on his desk at home – and you have one of the two of you together on yours. Your pink chair is complimented often by your coworkers, and you’ve apologized to Diane for lying about a gluten allergy.

Though you’re back to being under the radar, people notice the changes. They notice that Junhui, who no longer works alongside them, is still frequently in the lobby – but he’s picking you up. He’s kissing you; he’s spinning you around and calling you, my love.

No one speaks to you unless they need something, and rarely does someone need something from you.

But Junhui?

He can’t help but need you every single day. He slips his pink stationery love letters into your purse before you leave his apartment on Sunday nights, even if he’s begged you to stay the night just one more time. He accepts invites to anything that means he can bring you with him -- drinks with Minghao, lunch with his mother, even a weekend trip that was meant to be strictly business, but he spent most of the time that he wasn’t presenting glued to you in the hotel room.

Junhui doesn’t let you take the train anymore. Junhui takes your shy offers for a nightcap that usually end up with you kissing him breathless on your couch off two glasses of wine. Junhui, of all things, holds your hand on the table at drinks with his friends that are now yours, too.

Junhui listens – to your complaints about work; to your theories about birthstones and how whoever chose them was clearly biased for September to have the sapphire; to your sweet whispers as you slip your hand down his shorts late at night, and the whiny moans of his name that slip from your throat when he’s pinned you against his mattress.

But above all?

Junhui loves you.

Unabashedly, uninhibitedly and irrevocably.

382 notes · View notes

cupidkenji · 4 months ago

Text

Slowing Down

Now playing: slowing down - the backseat lovers whisper in my ear that you need me Pairing: Nam gyu (player 124) x AFAB!Reader CW: smut, drugging, noncon (putting this as noncon but the MC is into it. However, they are under the influence so they cannot consent.), toxic ex bf trope, he's kind of manipulative sorry, p in v, praise, mocking, possessiveness, creampie, this is literally deplorable i'm sorry, kinda ooc, university AU Summary: Four months after breaking up with your boyfriend, your roommate asks you to pick her up. Of course he had to be there. Disclaimer: Reader is always written with a chubby/bigger person in mind but in this she's literally not described. WC: 3.7k part 2

this is disgusting and i'm sorry, please head the warnings. this is also not beta'd or proofread. i am tired and going to bed. sorry if this sucks. i wrote some pre-breakup HC if you want more <3

also check out this PHENOMENAL fanart if you want some visuals

The mildly run down apartment of a random university boy was an unfortunate place to find yourself when you had the option of being anywhere else. The brick walls were cracking and the water from the current rainfall made a sheen over the building that resembled porcelain. The glistening building was taunting and never ending as you stared up at the top floor, a single window open and seeping dim lighting out into the dark streets. Smoke was billowing out of it, bringing the scent of weed and the sound of laughter down into the depths of the road with you. You didn’t know how your roommate knew this guy, or why she came here if she didn’t have a ride planned, but you moved forward regardless. The front door was heavy, greasy and gray but lacking any security measures that were common for entry. There wasn’t even a front desk, just a desolate lobby that sat in front of an elevator.

She’d told you where to find her in the text she’d sent twenty minutes ago, begging you to come get her and successfully misspelling words that you’d thought impossible to type incorrectly. It wouldn’t have been difficult regardless, even without the guidance. It was midnight, most people who inhabited the building were either out at their own parties or asleep. The only room that harbored audible life was the one she was pointing you to, and you were less than eager to walk into a room with a group of who knows how many intoxicated strangers. You didn’t even know her that well, just that she was keen to partying, and was usually able to find her own way home. You figured she must be truly desperate to resort to you, you didn’t have the heart to tell her no.

The knocking you did felt like it bruised your knuckles. You hadn’t hit the door hard, but making any noise in the stillness of the hallway felt like a disservice. There was a penetrating calm in the building if you ignored the music leaking from your destination. It seemed wrong. When the door opened, smoke invaded your lungs quicker than you were anticipating, and you fought the urge to cough it up. The owner of the apartment had come to let you in. You recognized him vaguely from campus and knew of him only through stories you’d heard whispered between the girls he’d been with. You just wanted to go home.

A giggly drawl of your name sounded out from behind him, and he stepped back from the doorway to let you lay your eyes on your roommate. You had no idea what she’d consumed over the past few hours, but she seemed loopy and out of it. You walked through the doorway with your eyes stuck to her, thinking about how the fuck you were gonna get her home in this state. She was practically rag dolling on the small loveseat that sat in the living room. She appeared in her own world, and you really didn’t want to haul her back to the car in front of however many people were in here. You hadn’t looked up, going and leaning over her for a moment. She looked right through you, staring at the ceiling with a permanent uptick of her lips carved on her face. She was giddy, and seemingly glued to the furniture. Her pupils nearly encased her irises and you knew she wasn’t moving anytime soon. How she managed to request your assistance in this state was beyond you.

You heard the man who opened the door return to his seat behind you. It wasn’t loud, not like a party, you assumed there were maybe three people besides your roommate there. You were now in probably the most uncomfortable situation of your life - alone with three high strangers and a practically incapacitated roommate that was your responsibility.

“Do any of you know what she took?” It was the only thing you could think to ask, turning around to face the crowd as you said it. If you hadn’t gotten your words out before you spun, you would have choked on them. Of course, among the three people that could have been sitting there, was your ex. Locking eyes with him now was equivalent to letting someone rip the air from your lungs.

You’d met Nam Gyu at the beginning of your freshman year, him being a grade above you. He’d made you feel things you’d never envisioned for yourself. Writing them off trivially as immature and placing yourself above them. For two years you grew intertwined with him, and when he got deep into his problems, you did everything you could to help him. Eventually, it was too much, and you left. The residual devastation had stayed draped over you for the past four months you’ve been apart. You were growing convinced you’d feel gutted forever. He hadn’t taken kindly to the split, pestering and persisting every moment he could spare. He seemed convinced he’d get you back, never failing to remind you of the experiences the two of you had. Just his presence dragged you back to the depths of it, and your knees nearly buckled beneath you. You’d missed his eyes, missed being close enough to see all of him. You did a good job of avoiding him, so he resorted to calling, or texting. You never blocked him, you couldn’t bring yourself to.

You couldn’t read his face, you could only witness the flick of his eyes over you, feeling too exposed even in your covered state. “Probably something from the bag.” The man sitting to his right spoke, sporting purple hair and painted nails. You’d seen him on campus too. “She’ll be alright.” He didn’t seem fully sober either, something in the nonchalance and slight slur of his words keyed you in. At least he was comprehensible. You didn’t even look at him, caught in the pinpoint gaze that stayed locked on you.

You took a shallow breath, stomach stumbling slightly at the thickness of the oxygen combined with the abundance of smoke. That was what you told yourself, anyway. “I’m supposed to be taking her home.” Your eyes flicked to the left. A smaller man took up that end of the couch they were sharing, glossy eyes and shy demeanor. He was caved in on himself, he barely seemed to notice you.

The man of the hour chuckles slightly. “Good luck.” He motions to the girl with his head as he speaks. “She doesn’t seem to be moving any time soon.”

You took a glance behind you, your roommate fully asleep on the loveseat. You were fucked.

The purple haired man looked at you. “You can stay here for a minute if you want. She’ll sober up in a bit. Shit’s fast acting.” You were thankful he didn’t seem creepy. He also appeared in his own world, more concerned about his high than the random girls that were there for the ride. “She could always just crash here too, we’re all planning to.”

You looked at your roommate for a second time, considering the options. You could feel the familiar eyes casting a shadow on you. Regardless of the assumed kindness of the men, you still didn’t know them. You had no idea how well your roommate knew them either. You hated to think about leaving her here and something happening. Technically it would be on your hands, and you didn’t want her to get hurt. “Yeah, alright. I’ll wait her out.” You sunk down in front of your roommate, sitting on the floor wasn’t ideal, but you almost felt like you were protecting her, blocking any harm by keeping her behind you. You heard one of them mumble something about drinks in the kitchen, but you were planning to stay rooted to your spot. Since Nam gyu refused to say a word or steer his eyes away from you, you took out your phone to kill time while you waited.

When your attention was away from him, he spoke with his friends. You hated how deep his voice cut. It was so indescribably comforting to hear it again. You’d been declining his calls for this very reason, you knew the more of him you had, the harder it would be to stay away. After an hour, your phone was getting low, and your roommate was still passed out. The shy one had ducked away to a different room, presumably going to sleep, just leaving your energized ex and his friend who seemed to be getting drowsier as the minutes passed. You didn’t want to consume anything that might have been in that place, but inhaling nothing but smoke for the past hour had sucked the moisture from your throat. You reluctantly stood, drawing the eyes of only one of the men, and taking begrudging steps into the kitchen.

Opening the fridge, you grabbed a random carton of tea after your search for water failed. You grabbed a disposable cup from the container on the table, you were grateful - you hadn’t wanted to look for glasses. Leaving your now full cup, you turned to put the carton back in the fridge. He was standing far too close to you when you turned back, resembling a jump scare from some cheesy horror film. You took a shaky breath, grabbing your cup and walking back to your spot. You didn’t want to talk. He followed suit a minute later, a soda can grasped in his palm. He continued his conversation with the man beside him like nothing had happened, and you envied that ability. Your heart was beating like it was going to stop. You drank your tea faster than you even wanted to, just doing something to fight the urge of looking at him. You could have sworn your resolve would be stronger than this.

His eyes seemed to float to you more than they had been. You felt monitored, stalked, even. It was such a piercing sensation that a mild cold sweat started on your skin. There was something so personal about the way he looked at you. A devoted gaze of a predator, someone intense. It was something that drew you to him in the first place, something that wrestled within you. Fear and want in one. God, you wanted to go home. You spent maybe another twenty minutes on your phone, feeling the world get hazy around you. You hoped the invading mental fog was just a consequence of the late hour, of the smoke around you. You needed to move, so you stood up to throw your cup away. Your legs felt like steel rods, heavy and immovable. You don’t know how you dragged yourself back into the kitchen. Your skin felt like it was buzzing, too sensitive to the air around you.

You heard the couch creak behind you, the sound of confident footsteps as you stumbled and nearly fell. You were an imbalanced scale, tipping to one side when attempting to stand normally. Familiar hands caught you, and the feeling of him on you after so long pushed a small sob out of your dry throat. You didn’t have the strength to suppress it. “Careful.” He spoke low, so close to you that you could feel the vibration of his chest on your back. Your lips trembled as you looked around, things looked like static, marbling patterns blurring around you.

“What’s happening?” You hated how pathetic you sounded, teary and weakened. “Did you do something to me?” You sounded so small; quiet and choking out your words instead of saying them. His hands felt so heavy on your skin. You despised the inherent recognition that your body held for him. You weren’t stupid, he’d probably drugged you. How fucking deranged did it make you that you were still getting wet for him, even in this headspace. You squirmed a bit in his hold, but all that accomplished was making his hands rub against your skin, getting heavier as his hands tightened to keep you in his grasp. You looked back at the couch, his friend had fallen asleep, and your roommate was out like a light. You were so fucked.

“No, no. You’re ok.” He started walking towards the door of the apartment as you stumbled to clutch on to him. The world felt like a pool of molasses. “Let’s go back home, yeah?” He was still holding you, dragging you along with him and mumbling out the words like he was talking to a baby. “Not like you wanted to be here anyway.”

It was still raining when you got outside, the feeling of your clothes sopping up the water and molding to your skin was excruciating. The air felt prickly, like a cactus, and it made your poor roofied brain so confused that your body didn’t know how to react. It was bordering on painful as you sat in the passenger seat of your own car - him grabbing the keys on the way out and getting in the driver’s seat like he owned it. He didn’t even seem high. Your body ached, tingling like a shockwave, but your thighs were clenching in direct opposition to the sensation. Wires got crossed in your brain, and you were practically dripping into your underwear as your skin buzzed like you were on fire. You couldn’t sit still, shifting little by little and choking ever so slightly on some of your inhales. The drive was only ten minutes, but it felt like an hour.

You watched him open the door to your place. You swore you’d taken his key when you left him. Maybe it was yours, you couldn’t remember him taking it out of your pocket. Your apartment was cold, and you heard him sigh as he shut the door. He’d been here a thousand times over the years, something he was clearly remembering as he returned for the first time in four months. You heard the thoughts ring out in your head, bound back and forth with a million different things. Your hand was flat on the wall, looking at him lost like you were waiting for direction, or answers, or just something from him.

You couldn’t seem to properly catch your breath, chest heaving slightly as he moved towards you, his hands cradling your face to force eye contact. “I’ve missed this, you know?” He looked over the space he could see. It was brief, just enough to take it in without diverting his attention away from you for too long. “You haven’t changed anything.”

He pulled your hand off the wall, turning you around and forcing you to walk in tandem with him as he headed to your bedroom. He was right against your ear, speaking so low and knowing, your brain felt like a puddle in your head, only thinking about him and what he was going to do. “Most people go through breakups and they want to change everything, get something fresh.” Your stomach lurched as he opened the door, your own room causing a new feeling to stir in your gut. It wasn’t comfort, or fear. You couldn’t tell what it was. “What does it say that you left everything the same, huh?” He put his chin on your shoulder, holding you from behind in such a disgustingly intimate way. Your underwear was sticking to you at this point, you felt sick. “Did you really think you could stay away from me?” There was none of the usual malice in his tone, he sounded amused. As if he was scolding you for such a comical belief.

Your back hit the bed, as gentle as the first time he’d ever laid you on it. The lack of standing was a welcome relief, and you could have wept with the feelings that swept over you as you drank in the sight of him standing above you. You tried so desperately to remember why you’d left in the first place, fighting through the haze to not lose your will. “Wait- you-” You didn’t have a clue what you were even trying to express. “No- I can’t.”

He was heavy on top of you, hands drawing lines of fire as they dragged your shirt off. That exposed feeling you’d been sitting on all night cranked up severely as he stared at you, tracing his hands over you as he remapped old trails he’d been so familiar with. Nobody had touched you in four months. You’d been reeling so hard from the loss that you’d barely touched yourself. With your already limited capacity to process what was happening, combined with your recent celibacy, you felt like you were going to die, and it just made you all the more wanting.

“No?” He mocked, slipping the pants you were wearing down your legs. “Why’s that?”

You were breathing heavy, lungs filling with the air that seemed too thick, bearing the weight of the tension. “We’re not-” You stumbled over your words as he kissed down your chest. “We’re not together anymore.” He nipped at you, leaving a stinging feeling that forced quiet groans from your mouth. “And you fucking drugged me-”

“And you’re fucking soaked.” He ran his thumb over the prominent wet patch on your underwear, pushing it aside to make bare contact with you. “You’ve always been easy, honey, but this is something else.” He takes his time sliding against you, making you preen at the contact. You were so caught between right and wrong. He’d touched you a thousand times, dragged the same sounds out of you he was doing now; but he didn’t have the right to do that anymore, he shouldn’t be doing it, not like this. The argument formed and died in your mushy brain, the feeling of the craving you’ve had for months finally being satisfied pushed all reasoning out of sight. It felt so good, and he was barely doing anything. A couple slow lines up and down, and you could practically hear it. He was right, and you were in borderline tears from how much you needed this.

You watched his clothes come off, wishing you could have helped, but rejoicing in the view of his bare skin. It was fucking pathetic how much you reveled in the sight. You felt like a lapdog, some pavlovian response firing up in your brain as you stared at him. Had you truly thought you could stay away? You could have changed the locks, or cut your hair, maybe reinvented your wardrobe. You had been devastated, yes, but maybe the reason you were never heartbroken was because you knew the split wouldn’t last. A dedicated devotee rarely deserts the altar, why would you be different? Why would you want to be different when he felt so fucking good against you?

You choked on a tiny gasp as he started pushing into you, your hands reaching to grasp his shoulders as easy as any instinct is. You hear the small noise that pours out of his parted lips, tightening around him as he bottoms out. You go practically brain dead at the feeling, mourning that specific fullness more than you ever thought you could grieve anything. He seems to sense it. “Don’t you miss me inside you, honey?” Even if you can barely process anything other than the feeling of him, you still pick up on that sleazy tone he can never seem to shake. Mocking and arrogant, always talking down to you somehow. “It was stupid to leave.” He starts moving his hips, calculated and slow - loving in a way that’s out of character for him. “You know you’re fucking made for me.” His words were breathed out in a sigh, audible content in his voice, as if he could stay like this forever. You realized with slight horror that you wanted him to. You wanted to be here forever.

You were being driven so thoughtfully to the edge that you could barely keep up. The hand that wasn’t holding himself up was rubbing timed circles on your clit, his face finding home in your neck. If he wasn’t leaving marks, he was saying something that was only making you tighten around him more. “I didn’t want to have to do this, you know that.” You nodded, eyes watering from the intensity. “I tried so hard.” You just nodded again as he sucked a bruise into the underside of your jaw. You were scared to look at the damage when this wore off. “If you had just talked to me, we could have worked it out.” You couldn’t pick apart his words right now. Not when you were so close and he said them in that tone that just killed any critical thinking you had in you.

“I’m sorry.” You could barely hear the words as you said them, whispered hoarsely as you tensed up. Your lips were trembling, a tear running down the side of your face and dripping onto the sheets.

His hips stuttered at the sight, cursing under his breath. “I know, It’s ok.” He put his mouth on your jaw, mumbling his forgiveness so you could feel the vibrations, etch them into your skin. “Don’t hold it, honey, you can cum.” The permission made you lightheaded, air rushing from your lungs. “Just let me back in, yeah? I’ll forget it even happened.”

You were so close that it was painful, his motions speeding up. You whimpered, small and meek. Your hands were shaking, hiccupping as a couple more tears streaked down your face. The thought of having him back was so enticing, even through the mild sedation that was still coursing through you, you felt like you were whole again like this. You came hard, so hard that you thought you might black out for a moment as it fully hit you. He followed right after, cumming inside you for the first time in your entire relationship, as if to physically demonstrate his intentions, to emphasize that you were made for him. You belonged together, something that he whispered with various other praises as his hips slowed to a stop. You sat with the weight of what just happened, what was most likely going to happen when you were sober. You couldn’t imagine being away from him anymore. It was hard enough holding out for four months, but after this? It seemed impossible. You realized that it hardly mattered, even if you wanted to leave, after tonight,

you doubt he’d let you.

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563 notes · View notes

pocketmania · 2 months ago

Note

ENA X Male!Reader that IS basically a computer Vírus,I think It Will be like this relationship

Girl with her Eldritch boyfriend

[A/N] hello jp!! Thank you for requesting! Aaaand sorry for the wait‼️

Alsoooo dream BBQ is out!! I watched gameplay of it, and it was so super good! If you're able to play it, I recommend it! I'll link the game underneath this post just in case any of you decide to check it out for yourselves :]

Now onto the thingy

# ENA w/ a Virus!Reader

(🎭🌙👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨💭) - ENA headcanons

(reader type) - AMAB & masculine; a virus / eldritch monster within ENA's world

(‼️warnings) - body horror

(quick summary) - headcanons about ENA dating the Reader, who is a virus

♨ jesus christ how did you two end up together. more importantly why am I the one asking this question I'm the writer

♨ on a random trip to visit an in-universe mall, ENA spotted you from afar and went up to you, making conversation like she typically does

♨ from that point on, you both kept meeting up coincidentally on separate adventures. then you began to join ENA on her adventures. fast forward about 2 years of awkward small talk and lots of denying that you're in love, ENA confesses to you rather indirectly/vaguely

❝ I'm cweating a fwightwess dodo out of myself in fwont of the pewrson who scawes the voices away the most! ❞

❝ Hey, don't be like th—what did you say? ❞

♨ Okay, here's the thing

♨ Unfortunately, whatever you touch becomes all... glitchy and nonsensical. Moreso than whatever it already is

♨ ENA herself discovered this fact when she tried to hold your hand. You failed to warn her in time, and it glitched out. You had to go on a mini adventure to help her out

♨ After this incident, you found a nice workaround: three-dimensional gloves. You make the lack of being able to kiss or even hug from time to time work, however

♨ Your stature and overall demeanor are VERY intimidating and kind of scary. You're also... quite dangerous because of how unstable your code is

♨ That did not stop the Picasso Painting Lady. If anything, it motivated her

♨ In an attempt to get closer to you and become "an ideal and ultimate significant other" as she'd call it, she began to ask around for dating advice from people, some she really should not be taking advice from

♨ Like Moony

❝ Get them your favorite type of flowers to remind them of what kind of flowers you like. Flawless plan! ❞

❝ My, my! With these tips, I'll certainly be the apple of (Y/N)'s eye! ❞

♨ Despite your incredibly different backgrounds, you're very open with each other (which many people are surprised by)

♨ Going back to the bodily factor, your body is kinda fucked up

♨ Like I said, your code is unstable, which means that your form is unstable as well. It changes a lot, and you feel self-conscious about it, but mask it with your toughness and whatnot

♨ Once you told ENA, she was constantly reminding you that you looked stunning and helping you understand that you looked completely fine

♨ Similar to my last batches of ENA headcanons, you are, like, the only person who's nice to ENA

♨ You'll obviously have your moments, but you're nicer to her than anyone else so

♨ Dates are intended to be minimal and relaxing, but you always end up getting lost on your way home

♨ Basically monster × monster kisser

♨ You will not hesitate to corrupt anything that stands in her way

♨ Despite how different you two are, it doesn't matter. Your differences only bring the best out of one another, and in a world like this, different is all you know <3

Play Dream BBQ here!

#writeblr #x reader #headcanons #ena #ena x reader #ena joel g #joel g #joel g ena #dream bbq is so PEAK please go support it #the reviews went up by 100 as i'm typing this #eat up

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midnightshindig · 2 months ago

Note

Cecil X reader from another dimension? Maybe reader comes from a dimension that doesn't have superheros/superpowers (or, it's like our world were they only exist in fiction) and thinks that superheros and the GDA is so COOL!

Reader is kept at the GDA because they don't know how to teleported to this dimension, ans they have dimension hoping residue on them. (Maybe they even teleported INSIDE of the GDA) Reader also doesn't know how they teleported into this dimension.

Cecil x Reader

this almost felt too similar to the angel!reader one buuuut I love you guys SO

hcs under the cut

You teleported through some vague green portal right into Cecil's office

Like, hand delivered by some sci-fi god straight into the room

You're on the floor, hacking up a lung and kinda dizzy and super disoriented like "Gwah- bwuh... fuck... hello?"

and Cecil is just freaking out silently

"Who are you?" He asks, calmly as his possibly can while spamming the emergency backup button on his desk, lovingly placed next to his stapler and "worlds okayest boss" mug

You look up at him from your spot crumpled on the floor, a mix of confusion and bewilderment on your face. "Uhm.... Y/n. Who the fuck are you?"

He quickly realizes you're just as lost about the situation as he is, right about the same time half a dozen GDA soldiers kick in the door and send you clambering backwards like a spooked cat.

"Stand down, I don't think they're a threat...."

"A threat?! ME?!" Your mouth hung agape in disbelief "You're the one with fucking GUNS pointed at me." You stood up and folded your arms, glaring at the guards "Put those away before you HURT SOMEONE. Shame on you."

The guards put their guns away.

Cuz like. Damn. Okay.

Cecil tries to get the run of events preceding your arrival but to little avail

"So... one minute I was at home, eating my microwave meal or whatever, and the next minute, BOOM, I'm shoved through this nauseating tunnel and I land here! Terrible, right?"

After fully verifying that you... don't... exist??? On any database or within any photographs, Cecil is forced to confront the idea of you really being from another dimensions.

Or at least something similar.

He can't help but want to dissect you-- uhm... holistically, that is. Not like murder dissect.

His curiosity is piqued

it doesn't help that you glow in the dark.

"You're sure you didn't do this before?"

"NO ASSHOLE I didn't GLOW IN THE DARK- what kind of question is that???"

"Sorry- Sorryyyy...." Cecil let out a heavy sigh "Take off your coat?"

"Trying to undress me, huh?"

"juuuuust do it."

You took off your jacket, your shoulders and arms not glowing in the dark

Cecil took a step towards you and rubbed the fabric of your jacket between two fingers, the weird residue causing his fingers to glow as well

"Ah... there we go. Donald! Send this jacket to the lab and arrange to have a shower prepared for Y/n." He turned to you "We don't know what this stuff could do, best to get it off of you."

It's been a week since you've been under observation by the GDA.

Cecil took personal responsibility over you, which meant most of the time you were following him around.

This was annoying, at first, but after a week, he couldn't help but warm up to you

"soooo, do you guys have hotdogs in this universe?" You asked, spinning in the office chair Cecil had brought into his office for you

"Yes, Y/n, we have most of the normal foods you have on your planet- they don't seem that different."

"Okayyyyyy...." you looked around before snapping to attention "What about Kale Coffee Cake?"

Cecil put down his coffee mug and stared at you with a horrified expression "What the fuck Is Kale Coffee Cake?"

"So... no?"

"God no that sounds awful."

"Good." You replied with a grin "It is."

This dynamic played out throughout your first month on Cecil's Earth.

"Cecil, are apples poisonous here?"

"Are they poisonous where you're from??" He looks over at you, a mix of incredulity and tempered awe

"No."

"...."

And so it goes.

"Hey cecillllll is it normal for guys to hang out with people like this on your planet? I mean cuz where I'm from, you'd be getting made fun of for not having asked me out by now."

Cecil damn near chokes on his coffee

"IS.... is cohabitation not a thing where you're from?"

You rolled your eyes, continuing to fiddle with the Rubik's cube from his desk "No, it is, but not when one has a big fat crush on the other."

"...w h a t"

You looked up, a mischievous glint in your eyes "Oh don't play coy, old man. You liiiiiike me."

Cecil's face heated up, he couldn't believe the brazen shit he was hearing. The NERVE.

"What the hell...? That's so... you're so...?"

He wanted to tell you off, to tell you he was only hanging around you because it kept other people safe, and he needed to keep an eye on you.

but he knew in his heart it wasn't true.

He knew he could've pawned you off onto Donald or some random agent

but he didn't

because, and as much as he didn't want to admit it, he thought you were interesting

and lately, he'd been enjoying your company

much to his chagrin

You stared at him, unimpressed, while he tried to sort himself out

"Uhm... hello?"

Cecil snapped back to reality and shrugged

"Your company is nice, I didn't feel the need to ask you to something more intimate."

You frowned, burying your lower face into your palms "Maybe I do feel the need."

"What?" he was getting more and more confused by the moment

You rolled your eyes "forget it, whateverrrrr...I want calamari, do you guys have that here?"

Cecil folded his arms, presuming that he would likely have to keep you pretty distant.

He didn't not enjoy your company

but eventually you would have to go back to your home world

and Cecil would have to let you return home

#invincible #invincible show #invincible season 3 #invincible fanfic #invincible spoilers #invincible x reader #cecil stedman #invincible cecil #cecil stedman x reader #cecil invincible #cecil x reader

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novanox88 · 2 months ago

Text

Between the Midnight Walls

Regulus Black x Reader

Summary: You and Regulus have never gotten along. Honestly, you'd barely even talked - but you knew of each other. He was a Slytherin pureblood and was friends with the Marauders. You really weren't going to talk anytime soon.

But what happens when your late-night Prefect duties push you into the younger Black's attention?

Warnings: fluff, kissing, no smut, slight mentions of blood and fighting

(w/c 6.2k)

A/N: I'M BACKKKK! I'm sorry for disappearing for so long 😭 but uni was kicking my ass. Anyway, here's a little one-shot I hope you guys will enjoy, and I'm working on getting my writing schedule back on track.

For whatever reason, Madame Melafawe had decided it was essential that the infirmary had a constant supply of muggle medication. It wasn’t like she could cure injuries with a wave of her wand, but who were you to judge? You rolled your eyes and groaned as you closed yet another fully stocked cupboard. Just one more to go. You moved groggily, grabbing the various bandages and unrecognisable salves from the open box by the floor. You’d been at this for around an hour and judging by the silence in the corridors it was around midnight. Why had no one told you being a Prefect could be so boring.

A sudden noise at the door had your body freezing in place. Reflexively your wand found its way to your hands as you crept towards the closed door. The noise disappeared for a moment, only to continue seconds later. It was somewhere between a knock and a scratch like someone was dragging their open palm across the door.

“It’s past curfew, you should be in your dorm,” you forced as much false courage into your voice as you could and it seemed to have worked. The noise stopped, silence filling the air, but you didn’t hear any shuffling on the other side of the door, no movement. Whoever or whatever was on the other side of the door hadn’t left. Wand grasped tightly in your right hand, you pressed your body against the door. You could hear breathing on the other side. Merlin help you with all the weird shit that goes down at this school today might be your last day on this Earth. You screwed your eyes shut hoping this didn’t go sideways before steeling your body and gritting your teeth. You were a Prefect godamnit, you weren’t going to die scared shitless.

You turned the handle and swung the door open to be met with a grunt and a thud as someone fell to the floor.

“Shit sorry!” you dropped to the floor and helped them up apologising profusely as you moved. The person grumbled but didn’t speak as they brushed you off and made their own way into the infirmary. “I’ll go get Madame Melafawe, she can help you out,” the person groaned again but this time it was in irritation.

“What I would like you to do is sit your ass down Prefect and let me handle this,” your tensed as your brain registered the person’s voice. You blinked rapidly, trying to adjust your eyes to the low light, but when that didn’t work you cast a quick charm, lighting up all the lamps in the room. A less than pleased face turned to look at you.

“Oh, it’s you…” Your voice was flat as you scanned Regulus' head to toe, more so trying to figure out what he was doing out here than take stock of his injuries. Regulus pursed his lips in response, giving you an unimpressed once-over before limping his way over to the newly stocked medicine cabinets.

“The one and only love,”

“What are you doing here?”

“What does it look like I'm doing,” he gestured vaguely between himself and the medicine cupboards he was currently ransacking. You rolled your eyes, moving so you were leaning against one of the beds.

“It’s past curfew, you’re not supposed to be out here,” you grit your teeth as he pulled out some of the bandages and creams you’d just stocked.

“And what are you going to do about it Prefect, dock my house points,” his eyes flickered up to yours, eyebrows raised in a silent dare. That was why you finally noticed his black eye and the small cut in his lip, crimson droplets of blood dripping down his chin.

“What happened to you?” the change in topic seemed to surprise Regulus for a moment, as the steel in his eyes disappeared momentarily and he looked at you like you’d figured out some secret. Silence stretched between you, the soft glow of the lamps casting a shadow over Regulus’s guarded face.

“Nothing,” he spat the word out like you’d asked him something scandalous but you had hardly expected him to give you an actual answer. The silence in the room thickened and Regulus walked over to the couch against the wall, arms loaded with bandages and ointments. You noticed the various other injuries that littered his body. From your position against the bed, you could clearly see the long gash that went up from his ankle and the nasty bruise on his arm. You had no love lost for Regulus, he treated your friends like shit and you had made a conscious effort not to interact with him but it felt wrong to turn him in like this. You sighed, moving to the cupboards that he’d left open and a mess.

“Right, ‘cause your limping looks like a whole lot of nothing,” you grumbled as you repacked everything that he moved around and dropped on the ground. You felt like you were cleaning up after a child.

“Why so interested love? You gonna snitch to McGonagall?” Regulus rolled up his sleeve and began treating the small cut on his arm.

“I hardly think you licking your wounds is a pressing issue,” you replied, closing the now re-tided cupboards.

“Someone’s going soft, your friends would be so disappointed in you?” he put a pout into his words, intending to goad you into a fight. It worked.

“Fuck off Black, you should be thankful I’m letting you loiter around in here at all,” your words were sharp as you glared daggers into Regulus’s head. He didn’t look up from what he was doing, instead just scoffing at your words, “Your prissy ass got what it deserved, I should go thank whoever did this to you,” that got a reaction out of him. His head snapped up to meet your gaze, ice in his eyes, as he slowly stood up, taking two curt steps towards you. His body loomed over yours but you didn’t give in, staring up at him with just as much disdain.

“You need to learn when to stop talking,” you raised a single eyebrow in question, daring him to keep speaking. You would not yield to a spoiled asshole who thought he could get away with anything he fucking wanted.

“And you need to learn not to be a dick,” you sneered and Regulus’s gaze faltered ever so slightly, noting the anger in your eyes and moving back onto the couch. You could feel your jaw straining as you unconsciously ground your teeth together. “Hurry up and finish whatever you need to do so I can get out of here,” you bit out, housing your body up onto one of the infirmary beds. You had no idea how long this was going to take so you might as well get comfortable.

“I don’t need babysitting, you’re more than welcome to leave,” Regulus didn’t look up as he spoke, eyes narrowed in concentration as he moved to another scrape on his body.

“As much as I love to leave, I can’t,” you waved the set of keys that Madame Melafawe had given you up in the air “I have to lock up,”

“No need, I can do it,” he stuck his hand out – still not looking at you – like he expected you to just toss him the keys and skip off. You scoffed, griping the keys tighter in your fist.

“And let you fuck up and get me in trouble. Yeah right,”

“Believe it or not, I can manage locking a door,”

“I’m not so sure,” Regulus muttered something harshly under his breath – probably something less than nice about you – before dropping his outstretched hand.

The room settled into a tense silence as Regulus continued to tend to whatever cuts and bruises littered his body and you pretended not to be watching. You didn’t know what had happened to him and as curious as you were, you knew he wouldn’t take well to you pushing. But god you wanted to know. The Marauders naturally weren’t fans of Snape and by extension most of the Slytherins that he hung around, but with Regulus it was different. Being Sirius’s brother, everyone chose to keep out of his hair more so to make their friend’s home life easier than because they cared much for Regulus. Anything that happened to Regulus would get back to their parents, especially if it was because of Sirius. No one wanted him to go home to whatever his angry parents had in store. But that brought you back to your current question. What had happened to Regulus Black that he was in this state right now? He didn’t seem particularly pissed, at least not any more so than usual, in fact, he was almost acting as if this was normal. You frowned and stopped yourself from getting carried away. This wasn’t your business to meddle in, you were perfectly content watching this unfold from the sidelines. If anyone was messing with Regulus, you were sure he knew how to deal with it himself.

“I don’t think we’ve ever spoken to each other,” your voice was tentative as it broke the silence in the room, but the quiet was starting to get to you.

“It’s not like your group particularly likes me,” you raised your eyebrows, in all honesty, you hadn’t been sure he knew you hung around in the Marauders’ circle. “Don’t look at me like that just because I ignore your lot doesn’t make me ignorant,” that got a small chuckle from you, as you pulled your legs up onto the infirmary bed and tucked them underneath you.

“I just mean that I’m surprised we’ve never interacted given all the time we’ve been at Hogwarts,” you sighed falling back onto the less-than-comfortable bed to stare at the ceiling. Regulus hummed at your comment, wrapping up his last bandage and standing up. “Given the opportunity, would you have even tried to speak to me?”

“I don’t know do you have a less bitchy setting,” you asked grinning and hopping down from your perch on the bed. Regulus’s eyes lit up in amusement, the slightest hints of a smile dancing across his lips.

“Unfortunately, not love,” you shrugged following his lead as he moved towards the door.

“I’m sure I could knock you down a few pegs,” Regulus scoffed but didn’t respond. You could feel him rolling his eyes even as you walked behind him.

The cold air bit at your skin as you closed and locked the infirmary door. You could feel Regulus still hovering nearby. You weren’t sure why, you’d expected him to leave as soon as he could, yet here he was waiting for you. You weren’t scared but your shoulder tensed. You had no idea what he was thinking and you hated that. Letting out a slow, measured breath, you turned around, eyes locking with Regulus’s cool grey ones. You didn’t speak, just raised a singular eyebrow, waiting for him to say whatever was on the tip of his tongue. He hesitated – he didn’t even bother to hide it, which was surprising – but you could see the turmoil in his eyes as he mentally formed whatever sentence he was trying desperately to get out. Just as you opened your mouth to speak, Regulus spun on his heel, turning his back to you. But he didn’t move. So neither did you. You could barely hear his breathing, cutting through the silence of the corridor, the cold air was sharp on your skin, and you really wanted to get back to your warm common room, but Regulus needed to say something, so something in you forced you to wait.

“Is Sirius-” he finally spoke and you noted the slight crack in his voice but chose to ignore it. Whatever Regulus wanted to say, it was far more important than pointing out his vocal mishap. “Is Sirius happy?” you knew he couldn’t see you but as soon as he said those words your shoulders relaxed and a soft smile graced your face. You knew the relationship between the two brothers was strained but you also knew how much Sirius still cared for Regulus. Knowing that Regulus reciprocated that care, even if it was only the tiniest bit, made you think maybe Regulus wasn’t as bad as everyone had decided.

“Yeah, he’s happy,” your feet stayed rooted to the floor, but a small part of you wanted to close the distance. “You could be happy too. You should talk to him, I know he’d like that,” you heard him scoff and for whatever reason your smile widened. You hadn’t expected him to roll over and follow you just because you’d asked but knowing he was thinking about his brother was enough for you. Neither of you moved, both trying to preserve the tentative peace that stretched between you but it was late and the cold was spreading through your body. “Good night Regulus,” he didn’t respond as you turned on your heel to head back to your common room but you heard his retreating steps. The sound was oddly comforting.

It was two days before you heard those footsteps again. You were sitting at the back of the library, tucked in a corner between two towering bookshelves with your nose buried in a potions book. You had an essay due and although Lily had promised to help you out she had to cancel last minute because James needed something. Stupid Potter. In all honesty, you’d helped James plan and set up the cute dinner in the astronomy tower for their anniversary but that didn’t quell the anger you felt for your potions essay. With a huff, you dropped your book onto the table and that was when you heard them. Soft but decisive footsteps, moving away from the chatter of the main library area and towards your reclusive corner. Regulus rounded the corner, mild surprise colouring his face as his eyes scanned over your slouched body. You hesitated between smiling and scowling, settling on some misshapen in-between.

“Hey,” you spoke softly, acutely aware of everyone else in the library. Regulus paused, gears shifting in his mind as his eyes flickered from you to your book to the empty seat at the desk. Something close to a resigned sigh slipped from his mouth before he dropped his bag onto the table and sat down opposite you. “You know most people ask before sitting down, I could be waiting on some friends,”

“Well, are you?” you had no response to that, grumbling and picking your book up instead which Regulus seemed to find hilarious. His laugh wasn’t soft but rather a deep resounding noise that rolled over your body like the tide. You found yourself drawn to the sound as it drew an imperceptible smile to your lips which you hid behind the contents of the potions book clenched in your hand.

“So you’ve been left here all alone have you?” he didn’t even try to hide his smile this time.

“That seems to be the case, just this stupid potions essay for company,” you gestured vaguely to the untouched parchment rolled up on the table.

“I believe an essay requires some form of writing,” Regulus nodded to the blank parchment “That’s just paper love,” you rolled your eyes, slouching further back into your seat.

“Fuck off Black,” you weakly brought the parchment towards your, reluctantly picking up your quill. “It’s potions, I’d get the same grade if I turned in a blank sheet as I would if I actually wrote an essay.”

“That’s horrifically disappointing. How can anyone be that bad at potions,” you groaned, dropping your head to the table.

“If I knew I would’ve fixed the problem by now,” he smiled and you almost got lost in the way his face relaxed and shifted to create such a pleasant sight but you caught yourself before you started, swooning. God forbid this man turns you into a blushing fool.

“Hand it over then, let’s see what we’re working with,” you pushed the book towards him, trying to ignore how Regulus was helping you and what exactly that meant.

“It’s on the aspects and effects of Amortentia or something,” you whined falling impossibly further into the table. Regulus ignored your spectacle flicking to the relevant pages in the books you were supposed to be reading. He hummed, dragging his chair around the table and next to you.

“This isn’t too complicated we should be able to get through it soon enough,” his gaze flicked up towards you leaving no room for argument.

“Don’t you have your own work to do,”

“Yes, but this seems to be more important, We can’t have Slughorn thinking you’re completely incompetent,” you scoffed but didn’t argue letting him grab quills and papers. “Come on then we’ve got work to do,”

“Feel free to start lecturing me on Amortentia, I’m listening,” you sat up straight, cocking your head to the side and waiting for him to begin.

“Not from there you’re not,” your eyebrows furrowed as Regulus shuffled reaching one hand out to the base of your seat. Then your eyes went wide as, in one smooth and confident motion, he pulled you and your seat right up next to him. Oh, that was definitely something. You desperately ignored the way your face flushed and how his thighs felt brushing against yours, instead focusing all your attention on the potions book laid out in front of you. “Don’t think I haven’t seen you drifting off in potions,” you could’ve sworn he moved closer, his breath ticking your ears as he spoke. “This way you have to listen to me,” you sat frozen in your seat, too scared to move lest it ruin whatever this moment was. You could feel his lips curling into a smirk as your entire body heated up from his proximity. The bastard was enjoying this. “What’s wrong love, you’re awfully quiet,” he moved impossibly closer, lips barely brushing the tips of your ears. You fucking shivered. Merlin help you, you wouldn’t be opposed to the ground opening up and swallowing you whole but unfortunately, you were granted no such escape. Instead, Regulus let out one of his gorgeous laughs and it took every ounce of will not to let your head tip back so you could revel in the way the sound wrapped around your body. You swallowed thickly before opening your mouth to speak, you didn’t know what you were going to say or what you wanted to say fortunately you didn’t have to worry about either because no words came out. Regulus snorted, shifting his body so he could pull the books toward you and just like that the moment was over. “Let’s get started shall we,” his face was blank, like the past few moments hadn’t even happened but you could see the mirth swimming behind his stormy eyes. What was this man doing to you?

Seconds quickly turned to minutes and soon enough you were crossing the hour mark. You wished you could say you were still paying attention but between the boring contents of the potions book and the near melodic qualities of Regulus’s voice your mind had drifted far far away. You’d tried to ignore it at first but your mind did what it wanted to. It wandered to the astronomy tower which you occasionally visited late at night. It was always so quiet up there a sort of peace that was hard to find elsewhere. And the stars – god they were something else. Somehow the night skies from the tower were always so clear, you assumed it was some type of Hogwarts magic so you didn't question it – just appreciated it. No one really knew you’d visit from time to time, you weren’t particularly secretive about it but no one had noticed your midnight rendezvous and you were grateful for that. You hadn’t been up there in a while, maybe it was about time you visited. Your mind wandered, mentally running through which night you had the time to go visit the tower and completely forgetting what you were supposed to be doing in the library.

A slight pain, like a bee sting, pricked at your hip and you jumped in surprise, a strangled cry escaping your mouth as your head snapped to the side, glaring at Regulus. “You pinched me,” your eyes were wide in disbelief.

“You weren’t listening,” he stared back at you, face relaxed like you should have been expecting it.

“You pinched me,” you were still reeling from his actions partly because he’d fucking pinched you and partly because he had pinched you. A gradual, almost calculated smile spread across his face. He thought this whole thing was funny.

“Yes, and I’ll do it again if you don’t listen,”

“Asshole, you can’t just go around pinching people,” you slapped his hand away that was hovering near you menacingly.

“I wasn’t pinching people… just you,” his voice dropped an octave and you froze unsure how to respond. Fire rushed through your veins, the warm kind that made your body shiver and you looked up at Regulus through your lashes. The man in question stared down at you, something akin to confusion briefly flashing across his eye. You’d never seen him like this before, so solely focused on something. You.

“You’re immature,” the words were barely a whisper on your lips but they drew a tiny smile from Regulus.

“And you’re not?” Regulus raised an eyebrow but didn’t move from his position you were almost certain he moved a fraction closer, neck craning ever so slightly to cage you in. You scoffed at his murmured words but you were hardly paying attention. You were focused on his eyes, the way the grey colour swirled like smoke, effortlessly capturing the emotion in his eyes. You were so used to the expressionless, passive Regulus but right now you weren’t sure whose eyes you were gazing into.

“What are you doing Regulus,” you spoke, more air than noise but he heard you anyway. Regulus leaned in closer, moving so his lips hovered just above your ear.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” and just like that he moved back, putting distance between the two of you. Your mind was whirling, having no idea how to process any of what just happened. “Back to being quiet I see,” hearing his more than amused voice snapped you back to reality and your face immediately shifted into a scowl.

“You know what I think I’ve learnt enough about Amortentia for today,” you hurriedly shoved your books and papers back into your bag. Regulus’s smile faltered and you almost felt bad but you ignored whatever sense made you want to stay.

“Come on love, I was just playing around,” yeah I know you wanted to stay but you held it back, simply giving him an awkward nod, lips pressed into a thin line. “I should get going but I’ll see you around,” the words were weak to your own ears and Regulus noticed it too but neither of you made any effort to breach the tension that was slowly building between you. It was like you could see the walls that he had let down slowly building back up. You grit your teeth and turn away.

“He’s fucking annoying is what he is,” you groaned, throwing your head back against the arm of the couch. Remus hummed in response, eyes not leaving whatever book he was reading. “And he thinks he can just waltz around wherever he wants and do whatever he wants and he just sucks,”

“Mhm,” you couldn’t tell if he actually wasn't listening or if he was just acting to spite you but whatever it was he got a response. You threw your legs out – gently – kicking him in the side drawing a startled grunt from Remus who promptly looked up from his book to glare at you. You smiled.

“Anyways as I was saying, what’s with him just cornering me in the library like that,” Remus rolled his eyes but sat up straighter, bookmarking his book and placing it off to the side. He reached out and grabbed your legs, throwing them over his lap so you weren’t bent awkwardly on the couch.

“Who’s this about?” he raised a single eyebrow and you groaned again.

“Regulus. Pay attention Remus,”

“Right, right,” he stretched out his back before turning to you again, lips pulled upwards into a lopsided smile. “So let me get this straight, you don’t like him because he gives you… attention?”

“Fuck you Moony,” you whined lobbing a pillow at his head which he barely managed to dodge. The sound of his amused laughter filled the room and as much as it was nice to lounge around laughing with your friend all you could think about was that his laugh sounded nothing like Regulus’s.

“No really explain it to me. I don’t understand the issue here,”

“It’s just- I don’t know- I mean he’s just-” you whined as you stumbled over your words, unsure how to properly articulate what you were feeling.

“He’s arrogant,” Remus started talking, staring up at the ceiling.

“Yeah,” you agreed, also dropping your head back to look at the ceiling. “And he’s so full of himself like he can do whatever he wants,” Remus hummed.

“It’s a type of confidence that’s more irritating than appealing,” you raised your eyebrows at his words.

“I don't know if I would call it confidence,” silence stretched between you as Remus didn’t respond and even though you couldn’t see him you knew he wasn’t convinced with what you were saying – and neither were you. “I mean I suppose you could call it that, but it just grates on my nerves you know, how he thinks he so entitled to everything,”

“I think that’s just because you’re not used to all that entitlement being focused on you,”

“Shut up asshole,”

“Has anyone ever told you to wash out your mouth with soap,” you could feel Remus laugh as he spoke and you chuckled with him. It was a comforting noise, a familiar one. Nothing like how you felt around Regulus, he was unpredictable and new. You weren’t sure if you liked it or hated it and honestly the more you thought of it the more of a headache you got.

“I’m just saying maybe he isn’t annoying but rather he makes you uncomfortable, you know new territory and whatnot,” Remus’s voice sounded far away so you shifted your body up to look at him. His eyes were soft, an equally soft smile on his face as he looked upwards at the ceiling. He hadn’t seemed to notice that you’d moved and you were looking at him. “I mean he is a Black, that’s kinda what they do,” it took you a moment but you put it together.

“You're kidding,” whatever stupor Remus was in he broke out of it, turning his head slightly to look at you. “Is this what Sirius was like before you two got together?” you laughed eyebrows raised but his tight-lipped smile told you everything you needed to know. “I guess being irritatingly conceited is just a genetic trait huh,” Remus laughed, eyes fluttering closed momentarily to enjoy the peace.

“Unfortunately so,” Remus sat up fully turning his body to face you “But whatever your dumbass decides to do I’m glad this happened. I know Sirius is too,” your eyebrows furrows and Remus paused like he wasn’t sure whether he should continue or not.

“What do you mean, what have you been telling Sirius,” you wanted for a response unsure what to expect.

“I haven’t been telling him anything, not that I have to you go and blab everything to him anyway,” you chucked another pillow at his head, this one hit him square in the head but he just rolled his eyes. “Actually Regulus came and talked to Sirius,”

“Shit really,” you dragged your legs underneath you, sitting up impossibly straighter.

“Yeah it was yesterday I think, Regulus cornered him in the evening and they had a good talk, couldn’t get Sirius to stop smiling afterwards,” your mouth unconsciously tipped into a smile thinking about the two brothers reconciling. “He’s coming around, it looks good,” you opened your mouth to speak but paused, hesitating. Remus noticed the shift in your demeanour and immediately started grinning again. “Want to know if he mentioned you?” his tone was teasing and amused. You really wished you had another pillow to throw at him.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you shrugged, tilting your head in mock disdain.

“Well if you say so,” Remus stood up from the couch – the grin never dropping from his face. “I should really get going,”

“Wait Remus come on,”

“Nuh-uh, you gotta say the words,” he was enjoying this far too much and you swore to Merlin that you’d get him back somehow.

“Didhesayanythungbaoutme,” you muttered under your breath, almost inaudible.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I got that,” he lead forward amusement clearly written across his face. You grumbled, throwing yourself back onto the couch.

“Did he say anything about me,” you asked with little more conviction but an equally large amount of curiosity.

“I honestly have no idea, I didn’t think to ask Sirius,”

“REMUS!” you propelled yourself up from the couch but Remus had already made his way across the common room bounding up the stairs to the boys' rooms.

“Good luck,” he called out behind him as he turned the corner and out of sight. You sighed lying down on the couch, one arm flung across your eyes.

It would’ve been a lie to say you weren’t looking for him. You’d come to expect him at every turn. You sighed, kicking a loose stone as you climbed the stairs up to the astronomy tower. It had been a while since you’d come up here and it seemed like a nice night today although the cold did bite at any bare skin but that was hardly unusual. You pulled your robe tighter before opening the door. Immediately the chill air washed over you, grabbing at any loose hairs and scratching at the exposed skin of your face. Most people found the cold uncomfortable and maybe it was to an extent but you found solace in it. The cold was as gentle as it was unforgiving and anything that gave you an excuse to snuggle up under a blanket was a good thing in your books. You let your eyes flutter shut, embarrassing the familiar sensation but someone clearing their throat broke you out of your feeble trance.

You wanted to say you were surprised when you saw the grey-eyed Black sibling standing in front of you but you knew the truth.

“Regulus,” your words were curt but not unkind, rather they were filled with hesitation, the same hesitation that no doubt coloured your face.

“Hey,” his words were soft and warm and all the things you wanted right now. Any less resolute person would’ve melted then and there. It turned out you had very little resolve. A slow and gentle smile crept up your cheeks as you looked at him through your lashes. You were still gripping your robe tightly to fight the cold but now you held on to anchor yourself from all the feeling you felt in Regulus’s presence. You scanned his face eyes falling on the small cut at his lip and above his eyebrow. Your eyebrows furrowed and you took an unconscious step forward, arms automatically reaching up to inspect the wounds. Regulus didn’t move, letting your hands graze over the small cuts. His eyes fluttered shut and your heart picked up speed.

“Do you want me to…” your repentance trailed off, an unsaid question hovering in the air.

“Please,” his response was breathy and your legs almost gave out. You let your hands properly settle on his face and other than a small jolt from the cold touch of your palms Regulus didn’t react. Like your hands were meant to cradle his face.

“Sit down, I’ve got some stuff on me,” you pulled out a small pouch from the inside pocket of your cloak and moved to kneel in front of Regulus’s seated form. You started with the cut above his eyebrow, cleaning the cut with an antiseptic wipe before moving to bandages. “You want to tell me how you got these this time,” you raised an eyebrow without looking at him. You weren’t sure you were ready to look at him just yet. Not when you were less than two inches from his body.

“It’s this thing the Slytherins do,” you honestly hadn’t expected him to say anything but you didn’t react and let him talk. “The parents all say it ‘builds character’ whatever that’s supposed to mean-” Regulus hissed as you moved to the cut at his lips, his hand reflexively lifting to cradle yours. You didn’t move.

“Sorry,” you mumbled still not looking directly at him. Regulus didn’t seem to like that. The hand that was hovering above yours traced its way across to your jaw and you had nothing in you to resist when he tilted your head to look at him.

“-It’s a duelling club,” it took you a moment to realise he was still talking about how he got his injuries, too lost in whatever this moment was. “But it’s just Slytherins so it can get… messy,” you paused a moment before responding, taking a second to process all the information.

“Fuck Regulus, that’s not good,” you had no idea why but he smiled up at you, leaning back on his arms. You couldn’t help but smile back. “Stop smiling it’s not funny,” your words were supposed to be chastising but they came out more amused than anything.

“I missed your voice,” your cheeks heated up at his words and you honestly contemplated jumping off the tower.

“Shut up,” you rolled your eyes, trying to focus on anything but the man sprawled out in front of you.

“Don’t be like that love,” he reached out grabbing one of your hands and tucking it into his cheek. His eyes closed as he fucking nuzzled into your hand. You wanted to fall into the man in front of you. Pull him close and never let him go but you weren’t sure he’d let you.

“Regulus,” you breathed out and the way he looked up at you through his lashes had you turing into putty in his hands.

“Yes love?” he purred, eyes flicking hesitantly between your eyes and lips. Fuck it.

You lunged forward capturing his lips in a chaste kiss. His entire body was tense and for a moment you hesitated, pulling away from his body but whatever he felt was gone in an instant as he brought one of his hands to the back of your neck, stopping you from retreating. Your body followed your movements, legs straddling his as you deepened the kiss to feel more of him. Your body pressed against his and he groaned as your lips parted, giving him access to your mouth. You brought your hands up to his head, one holding the side of his face, exactly where he’d been holding it before, and the other going behind to tangle in the loose curls at the base of his head. You tugged experimentally at his hair earning you another earnest groan. You smiled into the kiss when you heard Regulus mutter incorrigible under his breath. Your head tilted to the side, letting Regulus pepper kisses across your jaw and at your neck.

“Fuck I didn’t think I’d be doing this tonight,” you giggled when he lifted his head, eyes filled with adoration as he gazed at you.

“So this isn’t why you asked Sirius where I liked to hang out?” Regulus had the sense to sheepishly look away when you called him out but he didn’t let go of your body and for that you were thankful. You were starting to think that you could get used to feeling his body pressed against yours.

“So you found out about that did you,”

“I made an educated guess,” you smiled down at him placing a soft kiss on his temple, right on top of the cut you’d just bandaged. A cold gust of wind blew over you, goosebumps rising up your neck as you shivered. Regulus smiled and pulled you impossibly closer, lying back against the stone floor so he could wrap both arms around you. He slid one hand up to tangle in your hair as the other rubbed soothing circles on your lower back.

“So is this going to become a regular thing,” your eyes fluttered closed but you listened to his words, grinning into his chest as you spoke.

“What the kissing or the cuddling,” Regulus laughed and you shivered at the sound. You could die happy if you were surrounded but that blissful noise.

“Both ideally,” your smile grew wider,

“If you play your cards right Black I’m sure we can make that work,��

#fem reader #x reader #reader insert #regulus black #regulus black x reader #marauders #remus lupin #draco malfoy x reader #fluff #harry potter #harry potter fluff #cute

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nothorses · 7 months ago

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hi sorry to bother u about this, i searched around transmasc subreddits for an answer to this and while i saw a few people joking about getting dry cramps, nobody seems to know what this is. and i vaguely remember seeing a post by you mentioning "mystery cramps" in a post also about vaginal atrophy, but I didnt pay attention to the post much at the time bc at that point i wasnt experiencing atrophy or mystery cramps.

but now I'm a bit over a year on T, (my periods stopped only about 4 months ago though, because i was on a much lower dose than most for a lot longer time than most. that ~4 months ago time frame lines up with upping my dose from 0.2 to 0.3ml. i'm on 0.4ml tho now as of about 3 weeks ago) and suddenly i'm getting "mystery cramps" sometimes, it seems to happen especially the night before my T-shot day, (but i cant say that with certainty—i know i'm having them right now and my shot day is tomorrow morning, and i think thats been the case, but i dont know for sure) and they feel exactly like period cramps. to the point where i feel super paranoid that maybe i've been injecting improperly and the testosterone isnt absorbing right and my period is actually coming back. (something i often have nightmares about)

i searched your blog again for that post and did find it, (the one about estradiol cream treating it) but the wording of it is a little unclear and i wanted to just clarify that this is the same thing youre talking about? or if what im experiencing is different than the "mystery cramps" you meant and i should see a doctor

I am for sure not a doctor, and I think you should see one either way!

My personal understanding of the "mystery cramps" is that it's a part of "vaginal atrophy" that some, but not all trans folks who go on T experience, and it usually doesn't start until a couple of years on T ( which is also, to my knowledge, based on more standard doses as opposed to "low-dose" T).

Mine started about two years in, and was happening occasionally at first- always at night, and often the day before my T shot- then progressed to several nights a week over time. Nowadays I tend to experience cramping almost every time I so much as miss one dose of estradiol. Ibuprofen and Midol are the only OTC pain relievers that seem to do the trick, and the cramping will keep me up through the entire night untreated. It also tends to come in fairly predictable waves (spaced maybe 15-30 minutes apart) and right before I started estradiol, I remember getting some light spotting as well.

iirc, I talked to my PCP when it was just starting up, and their response was along the lines of "that's weird, let's keep an eye on it". I moved and didn't have a PCP for a while, so when the spotting started, I went to a walk-in urgent care clinic and talked to them. They gave me a referral for an ultrasound, and encouraged me to go to a "women's health" clinic that had long history of specializing in trans care as well. When I talked to the folks at that clinic, they encouraged me to go through with the ultrasound (I didn't), and prescribed estradiol cream because I asked them to and they didn't see a reason not to try it.

If you think it's possible this is what's going on with you, I would really encourage you to talk to a doctor, specifically bring up research around this issue and estradiol cream as a treatment option, and ask them if there's a reason not to try it just to see if it does anything for you. If nothing else, estradiol cream also treats vaginal dryness, tightness, and inflammation (other symptoms of "vaginal atrophy"), so it might be worth a shot for those reasons anyway!

And don't do what I did; if they want you to do an ultrasound or whatever else, go with it, and rule out other possibilities. Listen to medical advice from medical professionals who know your medical history and who you trust are listening to you & know what they're talking about.

#advice #testosterone #transmasc #hrt #trans hrt #testosterone hrt

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kaliforniahigh · 6 months ago

Note

Can I have something angsty,sad,fluffy,(smutty if you want) ?

Reader is on the thicker/chubby side (a few tummy rolls and thick thighs) and she thinks Noah is only with her to say he's been with a fat chick or it's some fetish thing. Reader doesn't understand how he can be attracted to someone like her. Normal 9-5 job, not rich, shitty apartment, shitty car...just getting though life and they met by chance. Maybe he liked that she treated him like a regular person even though she knew who he was, like a "yeah, I know who you are...so what 🙄😐🤷🏼‍♀️" kinda thing.

Not gunna lie the "never been with a big girl" shit has happened way more than I'd like...and honestly, I've been really hating my body lately 😔

Thank you so much for this request! I know it took me a long time to get to it and I'm so sorry about that! I hope you still like it <3

Warnings: reader is a little hard on herself, Noah also feels insecure. Reader is fatphobic towards herself :( Besides that, this is fluff.

WC: 5.9k (this is long and I haven't proofread it yet!)

My requests are currently closed!

Noah was back home in Virginia for a couple of weeks. He really just went because his best friend, Nicholas, had begged him to. There was nothing left for him in this place anymore, and there hasn't been for years.

Even though he had a lot of bitter memories from his time here, he really tried to enjoy the moments he spent with his old friends, reconnecting and telling each other how their lives changed over the years.

Right now, he was at a bonfire, sipping on his beer, despite the chill weather that fall brought along. He looked around and saw many faces he didn't recognize from years ago. To his left, Nicholas was socializing, and he thought about how things haven't changed that much after all. His friend was always better at this than him.

His eyes were fixed on you, like they have been a couple of times during the night. You were hard to miss, with your orange knit sweater and beanie keeping your head warm. He didn't remember seeing you before, if he had, he would surely remember it.

You talked animately with your hands, sporting smile on your face that made your eyes crinkle. If he could describe your aura, it would be warm and inviting, and he felt a pull towards you, suddenly having the urge to come up to you and stike up a conversation.

He held himself back, though, because you seemed very engrossed in the conversation you were having with your friends, and he didn't want to intrude or bother you.

"You're still brooding in the corner?", he was so distracted by you, that he didn't even notice Nicholas approaching him.

"I'm technically not in a corner", Noah pointed to the wall he was leaning against. Nicholas fixed him with a look.

"You should try and talk to a few people, at least this one time", Nicholas sounded like a mom scolding a child and it mildly irritated Noah.

"I will, once I finish this beer", he settled on saying, but deep down, they both knew that Noah would stay in this exact same spot for the rest of the night.

"Whatever, man. I'll talk to Josh over there, he said something about Eric cheating on Alex with their babysitter, and I wanna know all about that. Do you remember Alex from high school?", Noah scrambled his brain, and he could vaguely remember an Alex from high school.

"Is she the one who fell down the bleachers once?", he asked, the memory slowly coming back to him. He should feel bad that this embarrassing moment is what he remembers her by.

"That's exactly the one", Nicholas exclaimed, his hand slapping against Noah's chest. "Apparently her luck didn't get any better. I'll get the scoop and then I'll tell you on the way home", Noah smiled at his friend's antics and watched him walk away.

Averting his gaze back to the gathering happening around him, he found himself watching you again. He really needed to break his habit, otherwise you would think of him as a total creep. His stance and unapproachableness already didn't help him at all. He decided to go look around for something to eat, sure that he saw some snacks around here somewhere.

"He's leaving", your friend said beside you. You had to keep yourself from looking at him. Your friends have been annoying you for the last 15 minutes about the hot guy who apparently couldn't stop looking at you.

"Good, would you stop bothering me now?", you said.

"Y/N, you need to talk to him. Have you seen this man? He is hot and he's totally into you", Charlie said, an exciting tone on her voice.

"And you gathered all that from the few minutes we've been standing here?", you looked at her with a disbelieving look on your face.

"We've been here for at least forty minutes and he hasn't stopped looking at you!", she exclaimed, as if she had it all figured out.

"He could've been looking in the general direction, not at me", you reasoned, trying to forget the way his gaze felt on you. He couldn't have been looking at you out of all people from your group of friends.

"Y/N", Charlie sighed, the excitement vanishing from her features. "You need to stop sabotaging yourself. Why is it so impossible for a man to be interested in you?"

"I don't know, Charlie. I'm gonna go grab another drink, ok?", you did what you always do when someone brought this up in conversation, you left and didn't look back.

Is not that you thought it was impossible for this man to be interested in you, you just thought it was unlikely. You spotted him right when he walked in, his height made him impossible to ignore. And even though he was wearing a hoodie, you saw the tattoos all over his neck and hands, the latter making you incredibly flustered. You never thought you could find someone's hands so attractive.

Meanwhile, you came to this gathering right from work. Your hair was a mess and you had no option but to slap a beanie over it. Your outfit was nothing interesting, just a sweater to keep you warm in the changing weather. Thinking about it now, the color was even a little silly. Who wore orange sweaters?

You arrived at the table where the drinks were set, eyes surveying for something interesting and non-alcoholic, since you drove here. You were so engrossed with whatever was in front of you, that you almost - almost - didn't notice a presence beside you. Like you said, he was hard to miss.

"You, hmm... you need help finding something?" You heard a voice and you knew exactly who was next to you. You looked at him and the first thought that came to your mind was how tall he was compared to you.

He had to look down to meet your eyes and you had to crane your head back to look back at him.

"Oh, I'm just looking for something that's non-alcoholic", you answered him, with a little laugh, knowing that those beverages were hard to find in these places.

"Yeah, it's going to be a little difficult", he said, scratching the back of his neck and looking at the table set in front of you.

"It's ok, I kind of expected it. I'll just go look for dome water", you shrugged your shoulders.

"Wait, I think I saw some stuff in the fridge earlier. Do you want me to get it for you?", he pointed at the house behind the both of you. His eyes were hopeful, like he wanted to do this for you. You thought it was adorable the way he actually wanted you to have something else other than water, and you didn't have the heart to teel him no. So you said yes and saw him walk into the house.

While you waited, Noah was crossing his fingers that his friends had something in the fridge other than booze and stale food. Yes, he lied to you about seeing something in the fridge earlier, but he couldn't let you drink water at a party. He also didn't know where the urge to please you came from, but the words came out of his mouth before he could stop them.

He made his way to the fridge and opened it, and he immediatly spotted a few cans of Red Bull. They were of different colors - probably some tropical flavor - and he hoped you liked energy drinks, otherwise, he would look like a fool in front of the girl he thought was extremely cute.

He grabbed one of them and made his way back to where you were waiting for him.

"Here, I hope you like energy drinks?", he couldn't help but let some nervousness seep into his voice.

"Thank you, and I do", you answered him, and you visibly saw some tension leave his shoulders. "This is actually perfect. I'm so tired because I came right from work. Maybe this will wake me up a little", you said as you cracked the can open.

When he heard you say that, he wanted to pat himself on the back, but settled on giving you a contained smile instead.

"So", he sensed the lull in the conversation, and since he wasn't ready to stop talking to you yet, he decided to change the topic. "Who are you here with?"

"I'm friends with Charlie, she's Josh's fiancee", you answered him. He knew that Josh had gotten engaged in the last few months. Him and Nicholas knew Joah and Charlie from high school, and both of them were surprised it took Josh this long to ask the girl to marry him. Maybe if he was better at keeping contact with his friend, he could've met you way earlier.

"I saw you talking to her earlier", he pointed out and you cursed yourself, because your friends were right. He was watching you. "How did you two meet each other?", he asked and leaned against the table. He refrained from asking you to go inside and sit on the couch.

"We went to college together a few years ago. We were roomates and clicked instantly", you told him and he did the math in his head. You were friends with Charlie for what? Nine or ten years now? Shit, he really could've me you earlier. "What about you? Haven't seen you around before", you threw the question back at him, taking a sip from the drink in your hand. He had to avert his gaze from the way your lips wrapped around the rim, which was very distracting.

"Oh, I've known Josh for years. Us and a couple of other people here went to high school together", he saw your eyes light up with this information, visibly impressed.

"Oh my God. How come have I not seen you before?", you were shocked that you never noticed this man at any of the parties Josh and Charlie usually threw.

"I moved out of here really young. I live in LA now, so it's difficult to visit", he kept the information that he was in a band to himself. He liked the way you seem to not know who he is at all.

"I think he's mentioned having friends in LA before", you mused, but didn't dwell much on the information. "I don't blame you, LA seems to be much more interesting than here"

"Yeah, a little crazy out there. Not a dull moment, that's for sure", you agreed, and he wanted to know more about you, but refrained from asking what you did for a living, afraid that you would ask him back, and he sure didn't wanna lie to you.

"I never left here, I just assume from the stories I hear", he was surprised to hear this, not for the fact that you never visited other places, but because he couldn't imagine someone spending their whole lives in this place.

"You never felt the urge to go somewhere else?", he couldn't help but ask you. You thought for a second before answering him.

"I mean, I would obviously love to travel to other places, but I don't know if I would actually move somewhere else", he hummed, and you continued. "My whole life is here, my parents are here, and I know this city like the back of my hand. I guess I like the familiarity of the place"

He could understand that. Not everyone had a traumatizing childhood and teenage years like him. He guesses he could like the place if it wasn't tied to such bad memories.

He was about to ask you something else when Charlie approached the two of you, and he noticed the knowing look on her face the second he saw it.

"Hey, you two", she said as she rested one hand on your shoulder. "We're playing a board game in the living room, and Josh wanted me to ask if any of you would like to participate"

Noah waited for you to answer first, half hoping you would say no, just so he could talk to you for a little but longer. However, what you said instead crashed his hopes of talking to you for the rest of the party.

"I would love to, but I should be heading out. I'm dead tired and really need some sleep", you had an apologetic look on your face, and when he really took the time to look at you, he did notice your slightly droopy eyes.

"Thank you for coming, I know work has been chewing your ass lately", Charlie told you, but you dismissed her with a wave of your hand.

"You know I love hanging out with you guys, so it's worth the effort", you said with sincerity in your voice and you and Charlie exchanged a hug and goodbyes.

Turning back to face him, you noticed that you didn't really want to leave, but needed to before you got even more tired. Suddenly, you realized you never got his name.

"Well, we've been talking all this time and I never asked your name", you chuckled at the absurdity of it.

"My name is Noah", he extended his hand for you to shake. "What's yours?"

You took his hand in yours, noticing the way it entirely encompassed yours. You observed the details on the tattoos he had on his knuckles and hands, and you wondered once again if they continued up his arms and shoulders. "I'm Y/N"

"Well, Y/N, it's been a pleasure talking to you", he gave you soft smile and you wanted to get lost in his eyes and the way he was looking at you right now. As if you were the greatest thing that's happened to him the entire week. Little did you know.

"The feeling is mutual" you smiled back at him, having to let go of his hand, as to not turn this into those too long handshakes. "I should get going", you said and started to turn around before he stopped you.

"Actually", he started, prompting you to look back at him. "I was wondering if I could get your number", he had the same hopeful look on his face as earlier, when he asked you if he could grab you a drink. You looked at him for a few seconds before answering.

"Yeah, of course. Here it is", you handed him your phone and he put his contact in, giving it back to you.

"I'll text you so you can add mine", you tapped your screen a few times and after a couple of seconds, his phone vibrated on his back pocket. "There, now we have each other's numbers", you pocketed your phone.

"Text me when you get home?", he asked and you were caught a little off-guard, but couldn't deny you loved the way he genuinely seemed to care about you.

"Of course. I'll let you know", you smiled and contemplated giving him a hug, just to feel the way his arms would wrap around your body, but thought it would be too much for a first encounter. You settled in a little awkward wave as you turned around to make your way out of the backyard and in the direction of your car.

Noah, on the other hand, was frozen in place. When he spotted you, he was sure he was doomed to watch you from afar the whole night. But when he saw you by the table full of drinks, looking a little lost, he decided to take Nicholas' advice and mingle a little.

For someone who hated this city so much, he was actually feeling a little disappointed in having to leave in a few days. He always felt like there was nothing else worth sticking around for here, but as he replayed your smile in his head, and how your skin felt in his in those couple of seconds he shook your hand, he couldn't help but think he could stay here, if it meant he got to experince moments like this with you again.

He decided to make his way back inside, the party now with only a few people left. He sat on the couch as he watched Nicholas and his friends play a game of Monoply on the dinner table.

A few minutes went by when he felt his phone vibrate in back pocket. Fishing it out, he saw it was a text from you.

You: Hi! Just letting you know I got home safely :)

He felt a smile take over his face as he replied to you.

Noah: Hey! Glad everything went alright. Have a good night and sleep well x

You: Thank you :) Enjoy the rest of the party!

Noah: I'm about to leave soon actually. Talk to you tomorrow?

You: Sure! Drive home safe and let ME know when you get home? ;)

Noah: I will, but something tells me you'll be asleep by then

At home, you were leaning against the bathroom counter, your toothbrush hanging from your mouth, stupidly grinning at your phone.

You: I'll wait up :)

The next day was chores day for you. Clean the house, get the laundry done, change the sheets and whatever else you needed to do around the house.

Even with the music blaring through the speakers to keep you entertained while you loaded the dishes in the dishwasher, you couldn't help but let your mind run wild with thoughts of Noah.

You couldn't let go of the fact that he was so nice to you, despite never having seen you before. It's not that guys were never nice to you, it's just that the niceness came with the intentions fo something else, and you didn't want to think of Noah as one of those people.

Closing the dishwasher and starting the cycle, you made your way to the bedroom to collect all the clothes that needed washing.

As soon as you got in the room, you stopped in your tracks, your image on the mirror on the opposite wall from you catching your attention.

This was obviously a lazy day, and there was no use in dressing up to clean the house, but still, you could see the wisps of hair and the frizz sticking out from your bun, that sat atop of your head.

You wore a baggy t-shirt and some gym shorts, turning a bit to the side, you observed the fat of your thighs basically swallowing the tight fabric.

Nowadays, you weren't so worried with the way you look as you were as a teenager. A lot of therapy over the years helped you accept yourself. But you can't say it didn't leave any traumas behind.

Before you could even realize what was happening, the voices in your head were already sabotaging you.

"See? You were right. Noah is probably not attracted to you at all"

"He probably made a bet with someone about how he could charm the fat girl no one wants"

"He's tall, tattooed and handsome. You're just you"

It didn't matter anyway, he's doesn't even live here. His life in LA is probably more interesting than anything this city could offer him. He'll leave soon and your life would be back to normal. He'll probably not even text you, your phone number lost in all the other numbers he probably has in his phone.

Huffing with annoyance at how the day took a turn, you hurried to gather the clothes and make your way out of the room.

At the Ruffilo's house, Noah was laying on the couch, with his phone in his hand, open on your text thread with you from last night.

To be honest, he wanted to text you right when he woke up, but didn't want to come off to strong or bother you on your day off. Now, as it was nearing 3:00 pm, he was tired of holding himself back.

He's been contemplating on how he could ask you out for the entire day, and decided he should keep it simple. Maybe ask you out to eat some dinner. Nothing too fancy, just some burgers, fries and a milkshake at the place he loved to go with his friends as a teenager.

He even though about taking you to the lookout he always went to, to clear his head when the noises in his head got too loud. He hasn't been there in years, and now was a good time to try and resignify what the place meant to him.

So, he started typing.

Noah: Hey! Remember me?

He sent the text and stared at the screen, biting the nail on his thumb. He waited a couple of minutes for an answer, but the bubbles showing that you were typing a reply didn't appear on his screen.

You could be busy. Or you could already be out with someone else. It's the weekend after all, why would you spend it rotting away on the couch like him?

He knew if he stayed here, he would drive himself mad. So he decided to make his way uptairs to take a shower, and hopefully take his mind off of you for a few minutes.

Meanwhile, you were debating with yourself. After your dilemma earlier in the day, you weren't expecting to get a text from Noah. Actually, you were kind of hoping he wouldn't contact you, because you weren't ready to unpack what you were feeling for this guy you just met yesterday.

But here you are, mind running in circles thinking about what to say to him. Should you even reply? No, that's out of the question. You always thought it was rude to leave somone on read, especially on purpose.

You couldn't deny that you were curious to find out what he wanted. So, without dwelling much more on it, you started typing.

You: Hey there! Of course I do. Yesterday wasn't that long ago.

You wanted to lock your screen and chuck your phone across the room. But you weren't fifteen anymore, so you resorted to scrolling through social media as you waited for his responde. Eyes wandering to the notification bar every few seconds.

If this was just a booty call, you were going to be extremely upset. Would it be so bad though to have a one night stand with the hot guy?

Your phone vibrated in your hand, a text coming through.

Noah: Just wanted to make sure

What's up? You having a good weekend?

You: If good means cleaning the house the entire day, then I'm having a great weekend. What about you?

Noah: Well, now you're just making me feel bad, 'cause I didn't do anything the entire day

You: That sounds perfect, actually

Noah: Since your weekend has been so strenuous, what do you think about having some dinner?

Did he just ask you out? Were your eyes deceiving you? You didn't know what to tell him.

You obviously wanted to spend more time with him, enjoying the time you spent with him yesterday. But your mind took you back to earlier in the day. You hated yourself for always assuming the worst in a situation.

Maybe he didn't even mean anything by asking you to have dinner with him. Maybe he was just being polite. But why would he be polite to someone he just met?

Ultimately, you decided that this didn't have to mean anything more than just two people eating together. Besides, you were curious to find out what his intentions were. If he even had any.

You: Sounds good. What are you thinking?

Noah: Do you like burgers?

You: Oh, I love burgers!

Noah: It's set then! I know just the place

I'll pick you up at 7?

You: I'll be ready :)

Noah was sat on his bed, towel still wrapped around his hips, looking stupidly at his phone, a grin on his lips. He pondered a lot during his shower, and decided that he was done waiting. He didn't have much more time in his hometown, so he wanted to make the most of the time he still had with you.

He knew it was still too early to call this a first date, but he was nervous as if it was. He really hopes you like what he has planned for the two of you. It's nothing too fancy or too special, a simple dinner overlooking the city at night, but it held a lot of meaning for him.

Getting dressed and going downstairs to get some water, he knew he'd be stressing until it was time to leave to pick you up, so he decided to play some games on his computer to try and distract himself a little.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, and overanalyzed your outfit like you've been doing for probably the past 10 minutes. You wore a dress that went down to about your knees, it was a deep wine color, and threw on a leather jacket on top, just in case it got windy outside.

You opted to go for comfort instead of anything fancy, so deciding that this outfit was enough, you went to your closet and grabbed your pair of Vans and slipped them on your feet.

Noah should be here in about 15 minutes, and you wanted to be ready. He texted you a little earlier asking for your address, you gave it to him and just told him to text you when he got here. Since you lived in an apartment, it would be easir for you to come down and meet him at the entrance.

You didn't have to wait long until you phone chimed in your hands, a text popping up on the screen.

Noah: I'm here :)

You: I'll be down in a second!

Locking the door behind you, you waited for the elevator. Your legs couldn't seem to keep still, and you realized you were nervous for whatever was about to happen when you met him outside.

Do you hug him? Do you shake his hand? No, that's too formal of a greeting. But would he want to hug you this soon? He seemed to be a reserved person.

You didn't have much more time to overthink on this situation, because soon you were stepping inside the elevator. You cursed yourself for living only on the third floor, because before you could freak out a bit more, the doors dinged and you stepped out.

When you laid eyes on him, he was standing outside his car, back leaning against the passenger side door, long legs crossed and hands tucked into his pants' pockets.

You almost stopped yourself in your tracks. He was wearing a short sleeved shirt, and you could see the tattoos decorating both of his arms. You almost wanted to just stand there and admire the way looked waiting for you.

But you couldn't allow yourself to look like a fool on the first time you were going out with him. So you put on a smile and walked over to him. You didn't have to overthink anything at all, because as soon as you got close to him, you heard him say a "hello" and stretch out his arms for you to give him a hug.

He felt warm and sturdy against you, and you noticed the way his arms circled your shoulders and around your neck. You could feel his muscles through the fabric of your dress, and it made you a little dizzy.

When you both parted from the hug, you said "hi" back him.

"C'mon in", he gestured to the car and opened the door for you. You situated yourself on the passenger seat and he shut the door behind you, making his to the other side.

"So, what's the plan for tonight?", you asked, as you buckled you seatbelt and watched him do the same.

"I know this place that sells some really good burgers. My friends and I used to go there all the time. I hope it's still good", he answered and started driving.

"Burgers are always nice", you pointed out.

"Not always", he quickly looked at you with his eyebrows raised.

"Are you particular about your burgers?"

"It's not that I'm pinky or anything. It's just that I knwo when a burger is bad", he explained himself while taking a right turn and entering another neighbourhood.

"And what is a bad burger in your opinion?", you turned yourself slightly on your seat, so you could look at him better.

"Well, first, the bun has to be sealed, so it isn't soggy from the sauce", you nodded along to his explanation. "Then, the burger has to be thick enough to be juicy, and it can't be cooked for too long because then it becomes dry", he makes a face as if dry burgers are a personal attack to him.

"I guess you're right about all of that. Maybe spending four years in college kind of messed up my idea of good food"

"You ate a lot of weird stuff?", he asked you.

"It's incredible the stuff you can come up with on a budget", you shrugged and he seemed to be satisfied with your answer.

Not too long after, Noah's pulling to a vintage looking diner, but you notice him going to the drive thru instead of parking.

"We're not eating here?", you found yourself asking before you could stop.

"Shit, I didn't ask you", he stopped the car in the line and looked at you. "I was thinking about eating at this place I know, I think you're gonna like it", you could tell his confidence wavered a little bit, but you gave him a smile anyways.

"It's ok, I don't mind eating somewhere else"

The line progressed quickly and in about fifteen minutes, you were grabbing your order and Noah was driving again.

You noticed he was driving to a less populated area, and more trees came into view, the headlights of the car illuminated the path ahead.

"I clearly didn't think this through because this totally looks like I'm kidnapping you or something", he chuckled a little, but you could tell he was nervous.

"I didn't think about that", you told him. Maybe you thought this place was a little weird, but you weren't going to comment on that.

"We're almost there, ok", you nodded and true to his words, a few turns later, the car arrived at a clearence. Noah drove a little bit more and parked the car.

Looking through the windshield, you could see the light from the city below you and the stars shining bright above you.

"You were right. I really do like this place", you stated, still a little bit in awe. How did you not know about this place?

"I'm really glad you like it", he said, watching you observe the place around you. "Well, let's eat before the food gets cold"

You ate and talked, now feeling more comfortable with each other's presence. Noah told you he used to come here as a teenager all the time, though he didn't tell you the reason.

He didn't feel the same emotions now as he did before when coming to this place. It felt like a new life now for him, e new beginning, and he was to have someone like you here with him.

You did tell him though, that this was one of the best burgers you've ever eating in your life, and that you would totally eat there more. He couldn't hide the smile on his face.

After you were done, he gathered all the wrappers and cups and got out of the car to put it in the trash can that was not too far away from the car.

You sat there, observing him and wondering if you were the only one feeling like this was more than just two people who just met each other going out to dinner.

He got back and sat down on the driver's seat. Looking out into the city, he said "I kind of don't wanna go yet"

"I don't either", you agreed. You felt a weird sense of calm on this place, with him. "I can tell that being here means a lot to you. And you don't have to tell me anything, but I'm glad you brought me here"

He didn't say anything for a while, and you both just sat there in comfortable silence.

"I never liked coming back here, to my hometown", he started, you just looked at him, not saying anything, not wanting to rush him. "I have really bad memories from this place. But don't know, being here this time, meeting you, made me feel like this city still has some good in it"

"Noah, I'm hardly anyone important", you reasoned.

"It's not that. I just feel like you're here because you wanna be, and not because you want to get something from me", he looked down at his lap.

"Why would I wanna get something from you?", you were feeling a little confused now.

"it's just always the way it works. Charlie never told you whar I do on LA?", he questioned you, looking at you from the corner of his eyes.

"She told me you're in a band. Which I googled and you guys look pretty good at what you do", you noticed his eyes widening when you said this.

"So you know?", his voice was a little smaller right now, aprehensive.

"Of course. Josh would never shut up about his friends who went to LA and got famous", you laughed quietly at this. "I'm sorry that people made you feel worthy only if you have something to give them"

He looked down again, but you continued. "But I was serious when I told you that I'm not anyone important. I'm glad to be here right now, and I really enjoy your company, but you're going back to LA soon and then this is the last thing you'll think about"

"I don't think that's true", he was quick to disagree with you. "Before arriving here, I felt dread coming back to this place. Now I feel like I don't wanna leave. You're the reason for that, and I'll never forget the way you've made me feel this past two days. Because I haven't felt his normal in years", you didn't know what to say to that, so you just looked at him.

He straighted his back, and leaned his elbows on the center console, his face now closer to yours.

"Will you give me the pleasure of tasting your lips before I go absolutely insane?", he was looking right at your eyes, voice low as if there weren't the two of you here.

"We can't have you going insane, can we?", you said and leaned closer, brushing your lips on his.

You felt his hand going up your neck and gripping your jaw. He licked his lips and you closed your eyes, and soon you felt the plush of his lips on yours, slow at first, but then he got a little more urgent, picking up his pace.

His tongue teased your lips and you granted him entrance, you whimpered at the feeling of his mouth on yours, and he held your face tighter.

After parting, you were both panting, you with a smile in your face at the feeling of his thumb carresing your cheek.

"How am I supposed to ever leave this place now?", he wondered out loud and connected his lips yours again.

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moe-broey · 10 months ago

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Oh. Huh.

#they moved nagamas to ao3? which makes sense all the reasons given for it ect ect #idk if i really wanna go That out of my way for it though........ it was really fun/a huge test of my abilities when i participated #but like. this is my confession. my cardinal sin maybe. but i barely if ever read fic (and obvs ao3 is more than fic it's a whole archive)#and if i do. i'm only doing it about characters i like generally but am not really that heavily invested in.#like i can read an ike/soren. have a little fun w it. maybe aa fics. kinda fun.#but i live in a beautifyl world on an island in my mind palace where alfonse is ambiguously but distinctly queer/mlm #deeply elaborate inner world about it. so much internal lore. the alfonse that lives in my head is so important to me.#if i see anyone doing him wrong i'm going to kill them on sight. i'm so sorry. i won't even lie or joke i'm straight up not normal about it.#LIKE it used to be WORSE ACTUALLY..... i have had to grow as a person. to be nicies. so we can all play touys and hold hands.#i'm not even being dramatic. it is that serious.#i'm not vaguing i'm jusf trying to find a way to explain that sometimes.#transmasc who had an emotionally devastating breakup on account of incompatibility 🫵 are you being normal about women.#like my core point here. sometimes you do gotta self reflect on the load bearing coping mechanism #and sometimes your world gets a little fuller for it! wow! so beaitfylf.... congrasts on being nicies 😊👍#but you could not pay me to venture into ao3 about a character i'm heavily invested in. i will kill us both.#and. obvs. what. started this ramble. nagamas is probably its own thing on there #but that is too far out of my comfort zone. you cannot pull me out of this dark corner. i live here. i'll die anywhere else.#huge props and shoutouts to fic writers though like! cool valid art medium i've even considered myself #i'm too comic brained though. i'd have to hone a whole ass other skillset also. like. i'm not a stranger to writing #but i'm def rusty. and really again my one true love is words WITH images #i just. don't wanna come off like i'm shitting on fic i respect fic so much. i just don't often indulge in it #and i am. such. a high strung bitch. that is entirely a me issue. you don't gotta worry about that! 🫡#we can ALL play touys ... with each other or side by side or separately. peace and love 💖

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writerjayne · 9 months ago

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This is a little sterek college AU (are they human are they werewolves who knows) one shot that I wrote on my phone with no beta or editing So apologies for the errors! The premise is a little vauge on purpose in case I want to expand this into a full story later but basically its an "Everyone grew up together" kind of vibe. Made Derek only 3 years older to make him still being in college realistic. Enjoy!

The car slowing to a stop woke Stiles. Blinking around and not fully conscious he asked confused:

"Are we there already?"

Derek glanced over from the driver's seat and chuckled.

"No we still have like three hours. It's just a traffic jam."

"Oh," stiles sat up a little straighter and looked around, clearly still half asleep. "We'll still get there early right?"

"Yeah, gps says we'll arrive at 1, so plenty of time for move in," Derek assured as the traffic began inching forward.

"Good, I need to talk to the housing department," Stiles pulled out his phone, fingers moving rapidly as he typed.

Derek smiled indulgently. It was Stiles freshman year of college and Derek had never seen him so excited.

"To get your key?" Derek prompted when Stiles didn't elaborate.

"No, I need to see if they have any empty rooms," Stiles tone was almost vague, his attention on his phone. "Or any double rooms with only one occupant. Here look there's an alternative route-"

"I'm sorry what?" Derek cut Stiles off. "You have to ask about a room? Stiles it's move in day! The day you move in!"

"Yeah so I have to get a room to move into," Stiles rolled his eyes. "So the earlier the better! Here, take the next exit so we can get around-"

"Mieczyslaw Genim Stilinski!!" Derek didn't roar, they were in a closed car but it was a close thing.

"Hey hey hey, why are you middle naming me?" Stiles demanded. "Forget that, why are you first naming me?!"

"Because your father isn't here to do it!" Derek growled. "You don't have a place to live?"

"Well I did! But then Scott decided to room with Allison instead and I told him not to worry about it but when I called the place we were going to rent from they said I couldn't rent a two bedroom as one person so yes I'm going to talk to housing when we get there!" Stiles waved his hands around as he spoke, getting more agitated. "What else was I supposed to do?"

"I don't know, stiles, ask the adults in your life for help?" Derek pointed out.

"Dad has enough on his plate and I had already told him scott and I were set," Stiles sounded embarrassed.

"Your father is not the only adult in your life," Derek reminded, though not harshly. "What about my parents, hell Laura would have been happy to help or I don't know me??"

"Your parents were busy getting cora all set up," Stiles pointed out. "And I thought about calling Laura but her semester just started too..."

"And me?" Derek prompted. "I'm not exactly new at this!"

"Honestly I forget you're an adult too," Stiles admitted sheepishly.

"Stiles!" Derek groaned almost closing his eyes but the traffic began moving again and he focused back on the road.

"I know I know!! That's why I want to get there early, so I can get this sorted out with the housing department!" Stiles desperately explained again before holding out his phone again. "So can we take the alternate route?"

"What if you moved in with me?"

Stiles jaw dropped and he half lowered the phone. Derek wasn't looking at him, the older man's eyes on the road but he was growing in thought.

"What?"

"Move in with me," Derek repeated. "It's small but you wouldn't have to worry about rent, you could save the money you make at your job. It's technically off campus but it's not far to walk. There's also a bus stop out front-"

"But you hate having roommates!" Stiles interrupted. "And isn't it a one bedroom?"

"Yeah it's a little place but we can make it work. And you're not a stranger so I think I'll be fine," Derek smiled slightly. "What do you say?"

"Okay," Stiles was almost breathless. "If you're really sure..."

"I'm sure Stiles. Now we've still got like two and a half hours to go so go back to sleep. I'll wake you up when we get there."

"Okay," Stiles said again, smiling this time. "Thanks Der."

"You're welcome," Derek responded with a smile.

*****

"I'm sorry I have so many books," stiles frowned apologetic as they hauled the last two boxes up the stairs to the apartment.

"It's fine, Stiles, I promise," Derek said for what felt like the hundredth time.

They dropped the boxes by the half full bookshelves in the small living room before pausing to take a break.

Heading to the kitchen Derek pulled a couple of bottles of water from the fridge, silently greatful he had come the week before to clean and stock the apartment. It hadn't been used in months and had been dusty. Derek had wanted move in day to have as minimal work as possible so he had come to prepare.

"Are you sure about me not paying rent?" Stiles worried voice pulled Derek from his thoughts.

"I told you it's fine. I don't pay rent, why would I make you pay rent?" Derek held out a water bottle to Stiles. "My parents own the building, specifically so family can use it without having to worry about paying for accommodations. There's always a few units empty. This one has been mine since I started school."

"If you're sure," Stiles relented. "Do we need any groceries? I can make a run!"

"Sure," Derek started but he was interrupted by a knock on the door and it swinging open.

"Hey nerd, how's unpacking going?"

Both men turned to see Erica kicking off her shoes by the door.

"Hey Erica!" Stiles greeted brightly. "It's going pretty good! We got the sleeping arrangements sorted first then hauled everything in!"

Erica froze for half a second at the sight of stiles before smiling.

"What are you doing here?" She asked

"Oh I'm living here," stiles glanced between his two friends "did Derek not tell you?"

"He did not," Erica gave Derek a pointed look and the older man rolled his eyes.

"Cut me some slack, I didn't even know until like 3 hours ago!" Derek gave Stiles a face. "Someone thought they could show up on move in day and just find a place to stay!"

"Oh?" Erica grinned and Stiles blushed.

"I'm going to go get some groceries now," he muttered avoiding Erica's eye and she laughed.

"Whatever Batman," Erica plopped on the couch, pulling out her phone. "Bring me back some chocolate?"

"Sure," Stiles agreed easily. "I won't be long!"

"Ok be safe and call me if you get lost!" Derek said sternly.

"This isn't the preserve Derek, GPS actually works here so I think I'll be fine!" With that stiles left, waving as he pulled the door closed.

As soon as she hears the door latch Erica jumped up rouding on Derek.

"This is a terrible idea!!" She exclaimed. "Why would you even suggest it?"

"If you're gonna lecture at least help me unpack his books," Derek answered, dodging the question.

"Seriously Derek, what were you thinking?" Erica grabbed a box and began opening it.

"Well I wasn't gonna let him be homeless!" Derek hissed. "He's my best friend-"

"Who you've been in love with since you were what 8?" Erica crossed her arms.

"If we're getting technical since I was 3," Derek admitted.

Erica did the quick mental math before asking:

"God Derek, was he even born??"

"Um not yet."

"Derek!" Erica groaned. "What are you going to do if he brings someone home? You'll be in jail for murder!"

"I'm not that jealous!" Derek said defensively.

"No but you are that protective!" Erica countered.

"It won't be a problem anyway, Stiles isn't going to bring anyone home," Derek said dismissively.

"Are we talking about the same stiles?" Erica raised an eyebrow. "Stiles stilinski? The boy who dated Lydia Martin! Stiles stilinski who dated your sister and your cousin not to mention half the lacrosse team! Say what you want but that boy can pull!"

"Okay so we cross that bridge when we get there!" Derek continued putting books on the shelves, avoiding Erica's eye for a moment.

"Yeah okay," Erica crossed her arms. "We'll see how that goes."

"You want a tour or what?" Derek huffed, changing the subject.

"Obviously," Erica grinned. "Why else do you think I came over?"

Derek refrained from rolling his eyes and gestured for the young woman to follow him. He gave a quick tour of the living room and kitchen before opening the door to the bedroom.

"There's only one bed?!" Erica rounded on Derek, her disbelief written across her face.

"It's a king, we can share," Derek shrugged. "We have before."

"This is going to end so badly. This is a disaster," Erica stood dumbfounded. "Seriously what were you thinking?"

*****

"I was thinking 'hey one less thing to stress over' Scott I wasn't thinking about how in each other's space it would be!" Stiles nearly threw his hands up in exasperation. "I didn't exactly have another option!"

"You should have told me! Allison and I could have got a bigger place or you an I could have done this first semester together and she and I could have moved in together next semester!" Scott's worried voice came over the phone and stiles could almost see Scott nervously pacing.

"It's Derek Scott, it'll be fine!" Stiles tried to sound confident.

"Who you've been in love with since you were old enough to walk!" Scott pointed out.

Stiles groaned.

"I know, I know. But honestly, how bad can this be?"

#teen wolf #sterek #derek hale #stiles stilinski #college au #there's only one bed #Erica reyes #Erica reyes is the voice of reason #one shot #mutual pining

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threepandas · 7 months ago

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Bad End: Games Played

As children, we learn to play the Quite Game.

It's rather simple. You scrunch down real small, ball yourself real tight, and find the bestest most hard to reach hiding spot you can! Then? Oh THEN, children, we all get really, REALLY quite. Until mummy or daddy find you. And no matter what, no matter WHO, you Do Not Move, until THEY come and find you.

Not for treats. Not for hugs. Not for threats or scary noises.

No. Matter. What.

To the others, it was a game. But to me? Born just a bit... different? I looked my parents in the eyes, saw the fear that lived there. That hunted them and haunted their dreams. I watched the way they acted. Guarding me. Never letting me wander. Keeping me between them as they slept. Holding me, shielding me. Both whispering their lessons, their love, each moment they could.

And I knew it was no game.

I was an obedient child. Perhaps that is why I lived, where others did not.

Or perhaps? It was my vague, half remembered, knowledge of this world. To be more exact, the chronological series of Otome games, set in this world. Endless streams of political and social clusterfucks, that cast the map into conflict after conflict, all for the selfish romances of a few. Pseudo-historical straight to pseudo-modern magical realism.

Clans of mages. Elves, werewolves, the whole shebang. All trapped in an endless cycle of conflict. Sometimes silent, sometimes open. Always, soaked in blood.

But hey... at least the Protagonist is happy! Right?

We should be furious. We should HATE them.

Our Clan? Did shadow magic. Unfortunately. Because unsurprisingly, Otome troupes ran true, and we? Have a complete Edgy Little Fuckboi as our Clan Heir. Worse still, I RECOGNIZE that Edgy Little Fuckboi! The fucking chuunibyou is a romance target!

I'm sorry, I was under the impression the Clan Heir's job was to KEEP US ALL ALIVE! Not get your DICK WET! But, my bad! My fucking MISTAKE! How COULD I have BEEN so foolish! You go on, then! Just piss RIGHT off, and leave the rest of us to suffer, while you chase SOMEONE ELSE'S GIRLFRIEND!

Fuckwit!

Ha ha.... oh god. We're all gonna die. Aren't we?

We should trust Alphard. No one else understands us.

Everyone? Absolutely fucking EVERYONE? Waves it off. 'Just a phase' and 'he's young, he'll get it out of his system'. As though the problems doesn't run deeper. As though the Clan Head isn't an old man, barely holding us together. As though he isn't planning to hand it all over to a chuunibyou who refuses to sit still and LEARN ANYTHING. Who picks fights he expects US to win for him. Expects US to die for him.

So he can look 'cool'.

Alphard is basicly running this place. But does the Clan Head care? No. Because Alphard is a 'half-breed'. Because ALPHARD has the audacity to be, what? Fire Mage?! Oh dear god! Not ANOTHER GROUP OF HUMANS!? Gasp! Shock! Someone call the fantasy church! Fuckers.

Ooooh but their TEMPER! Everyone knows how UNSTABLE they are!

We should show them 'Unstable'. Make them regret what they've done.

'Bout to see up close and in person MY 'temper' and 'unstable' fuckin BOOT, old man!

No, I don't care if that made sense! Shut up! Fuck you! I get to be upset, okay!? This is nepotism and it's dangerous! And... and NO ONE LISTENS TO ME! It's like they're merrily marching towards a cliff and calling ME paranoid for pointing it out! Telling me to calm down. To stop exaggerating. It's a CLIFF!

The only one who listens? Is Alphard.

Alphard is our friend. Alphard listens to us. We should Trust Alphard.

Storming towards his office, shadows writhing in my wake, I seriously wonder. Would I have gone completely apeshit by now with out him? Left the clan? I don't know how he can bear it. The weight of their stubbornness. Their wilful blindness, which IS going to get people hurt. Killed. Probably already fuckin has.

How many more clansmen do we have to LOSE?

They'd tucked him away in some side wing, like some dirty little family secret. I'd always hated it. Big whoop! He gets two powers instead of one! Jealous ass little shits. It was fear and politics. I KNEW it was! He refused to say so, but I KNEW. And no amount of pained smiles and changing the subject would make me drop it!

It wasn't RIGHT.

God, the more time went on? The angrier I felt about it. The more it burned me. Ate me up inside. It's like my temper just...? Gah! Fuck this and fuck THEM! We don't need them! We should leave! Just the two of us. Go and never com-!

.....wait a second... that's not... right....

My head pounds with the worst sort of migraine. Shadows hissing like angry cats, as they crawled viciously around my head. Chasing whisps of something they can't seem to catch. I stopped between hallways. In one of our Clan's many, MANY shady areas. Leaning more into the darkness... helped. Made my head hurt less.

God, I've got to talk to talk to Alphard about this. It's starting to really worry me. The anger, the snarling flare ups, the dark moods. Not to mention the obsessive thoughts. It wasn't like me. Might be a curse? Maybe. Could be fire magic or related, so he would know. And if not? Well, nothing beats Fire for burning curses away.

....actually, Light, might. But we are A PROUDLY BIASED household here, thank you. So like? Not gonna SAY Shadow magic is BEST magic... BUT it absolutely, totally IS. And Alphard? OBVIOUSLY the greatest Fire Mage alive! No I will not be taking questions, thank you and goodnight.

We should see Alphard, we miss him.

Yeah... yeah I do really miss him, dont I? Where is he?

My head throbs viciously. Ow. It's been getting worse. My control too. My shadows fighting me at every turn. Which? Scares me more. Because YEAH, others? Have been big on the 'beat them into submission' tract of Shadow Mastery. But ME? No, no. I know for a FACT. You can not rule through fear. Not for long.

Bribery and alliances work wonders. Friendships and love. My shadows get FED. They get CUDDLES. I take my shadows for enrichment walkies and give them interesting puzzle boxes to play with. They fuckin LOVE me. Would meat thresher through CITIES if I asked.

So to suddenly Stop Listening?

It means they think I'm... I'm not myself. They are making the executive decision to act on my behalf, to protect me, even if they have to do so FROM me. And... and I don't know what's causing it. Don't know what's wrong or how to fix it. I'm getting scared.

Because something is very wrong.

Everything is fine.

Another wave of vicious hissing, of throbbing pain in my head. This time though... THIS time? I think I felt that. The discordant thoughts. The contradiction. That isn't me. There's something in me head that DEFINITELY isn't me! No there isn't. No WONDER my Shadows are so pissed! Fuck!

I stick to the darker hallways. It helps with concentration, the pain. Whatever is in my head? Is like sticky, burning, spiderwebs. Like trying to grab at thin lines of super heated metal, covered in tar. How... how LONG has it all BEEN there?

You should leave it. You don't know what you're doing. You could get hurt.

Oh fuuuuck YOU. Get out of my HEAD! Where is Alphard?

I stumble down the final hallway to his so called 'office'. It was a guest room once. As a kid, I helped him convert it. Back when the old fuck refused to step down, despite his son and heir, the next clan head, being DEAD. And? AND!? That Heir's fuckin chuunibyou kid being a tiny, insufferable, brat.

We get it! You're hurting! EVERYBODY'S hurting! Your fuckwit parents got HALF THE WARRIORS KILLED! We STILL haven't recovered from that. And Edgy pants goes on and ON about the 'glory of his ancestors' as though? He's not talking about his PARENTS. One generation fucking BACK!

That family ORPHANED me. But do you see ME starting shit? No!

Yet? God forbid the Old Bastard do what's RIGHT for the Clan! No, no! Between a literal infant, a FUCKING ZYGOTE, and a fully grown adult? Better pick the baby! Who CARES that Alphard was the better choice!? Chuunibyou brat is BLOOD! And we CAN'T have the 'half-breed' nephew in charge!

Better connections? More accomplishments? Fully trained and, once again, AN ADULT? All irrelevant. He's too fucking well liked! Too TRUSTED! Too much a THREAT to your precious little legacy and hold on power. So hey, fuck the rest of the Clan! Right? Why would WE need competent leadership!? You can just shove all the work you can no longer DO, on to Alphard.

Force him to rule in all but name. All but honor and title. Spit in his face then tell him to thank you.

Bastard!

He isn't there, in his over crowded office. Piles of paperwork. Empty tea cups, long cold. Mismatched pillows I'd stolen from around the compound, to make it feel less depressing. His classy art pieces mixing with my cheap, shitty ones. The souvenirs I'd brought back, again and again, because I do not forget my friends.

My head hurts so bad. How long has it been building?

Another wave of pain, as my Shadows hissing and growl in outrage, writhing like electric snakes around me. Safe and stronger, here in the unlit office of a friend. They want 'it' out. Hunt and hunt, but can not catch hold. How strong must the caster be? Older then me, probably. Far more experienced. I've been pretty diligent.

They'll stand no chance, though, against Alphard.

He's the best curse breaker I know. Honestly? He's the best at a lot of things. It's been great to learn from him. And he's? Gonna lose his SHIT. He already worries when I go out without him. But to find out somebody slipped a curse on me? Ooooh, shit. I'd almost laugh, if my head didn't feel like it was in a VICE.

Man's gonna feed them their KNEES.

As a PASTE.

.......I wonder, now that I think about it? Looking around the crowded office space? If Alphard has any pain meds? He SHOULD. There's no way in hell, he deals with chronic stupid all day without headaches. He should? Definitely have something for this. Probably. Might not actually FIX it, since it's magic based, but it can't HURT.

Decided, I get up. Slowly. Spread my shadows out. They love doing simple, achievable, tasks. Like 'find the box!' Or 'open this puzzle!', usually for treat rewards. (Cup time, usually. Or bits of my food. But honestly? They LOVE cup time. They like to hide under it and push it around the floor. Each group of them have favorite cups.)

Nothing but paper, cups, snacks, a couple piles of pillows, and a coat I had forgotten. Huh. Maybe his desk? Would make the most sense I suppose. It'd be on hand. Head and neck, one big regret, I stiffly shambled over. Organized chaos. More nonsense and damages caused by chuunibyou and his sycophants, in the name of luuuuuv~. God damn it.

At least no one died... this time.

I tear my eyes away from the top page. The one next to it? Shouting reports. Elves: pissed, werewolves: pissed, everybody: pissed. Guess who's fault? Oh fantastic! So THAT'S why he's not in his office. Probably trying to keep us all from dying. Another report after that. Protagonist-chan.... wow that's unflattering. Word it a little harsher, why don't you?

My eyes absent-mindedly keep scanning, as I look for a med box. Some sort of pill bottle. Something that might hold headache medication. Nothing on top of the desk. Drawer? Should be top right one, right? Since he's right handed? Easiest to reach. Let's see... pens, pens, spellwork paper, brushes, mints, bottle! AaaHAH! I hold it up to what little light there is and squint.

Wow. That's pretty strong. And not just for headaches.

.....should I have a talk with Alphard? Probably. Maybe? Definitely keep an eye on this. Don't wanna be jumping to conclusions, here. Still! Helpful. Down the hatch!

I pop back one of his pills, stealing one of his fancy tea in a can. He may complain, but we both know he won't stop me. Nor does he even mean it when he does. I'm like this sorta needy, demanding, housecat. I wander in, eat his food, tell him to pay attention to me, then wander off. Should have known better then to feed me, that first time~! He got stuck with me ever since.

Briefly a burning wire escape my grip. We should-Stop THAT! I beat it back down. Violently. It's taking a lot more concentration, more pain, then I'd like to admit, to fight it. Damn near wack a mole in my brain. There's no-CEASE! Desist! You are NOT welcome! Get! GET!

The pain meds are definitely helping. A LOT.

In fact...? Huh. Looking around? Without the pain to distract me? Those... aren't my shitty art works. Not the meme-y ones I bought, that I thought he'd like, nor the pieces I made in various art classes. They're just...? Random cheap art.

What the fuck?

Was Alphard ROBBED? Also? Where are HIS pieces? That one with the lady and the clearing? The couple dancing near the lake? That little statue? It's all random snobby fake art. Like someone wanted to give the IMPRESSION that nothing had changed, but had cleared out everything personal...

Alarmed. I looked down at the can I grabbed. It was the kind he offered to guests. Kept for me. Because... because he couldn't STAND it. Too sweet. Tearing the mini fridge back open? Nothing but cheap tea cans and teas he hated remained.

I slammed it closed. Urgently reached for the tea cubbies. Fancy LOOKING teas. The kind Alphard always makes fun of. Quality is in the tea, not the pretty pictures on the box, he says. His tea is GONE. Worse? MY drinks are gone! Why are MY drink-? The coat!

My hand snaps out. The coat flung into it by my shadows. The instant it touchs my palm, I know it is wrong. Too rough and too new. Some modified mimicry that my shadows could tell apart from the original. It's not their fault. They don't have senses like mine. I stare at it, feeling a building sense of panic, before look back up at the room around me.

Is... is ANYTHING where it should be?

Gaze snapping from place to place, shaking as the panic starts to swallow me whole, I realize... No. Not a single thing. It's all staged. Made to LOOK like nothing's wrong. When... when everything IS. Oh god. Where is Alphard? What the FUCK have they DONE to him?!

I drop the coat. The drink. Adrenaline slamming into me like a truck. Slamming the door open, I flood the hallway beyond with writhing, furious night. I AM Shadow and it IS Me. We run. Hunting, hurting, FURIOUS. If they have hurt our friend? If they DARE have-!

A howling whistle splits the night, closer, Closer, BANG. The compound rocks with the force of the explosion. The wards hiss to life like great titans of black sand. Ink dark, they nerely block out all light. Casting eerie spell light over the buildings below, as lights flip on. More whistling. Booms.

We are under attack.

For an instant, I am torn in two. Half of me? Demands I find my friend. They other half? Knows that I must protect the Clan. We stand together or we DIE together. Loyalty wins out. My parents, Alphard, the people I care about, they would never forgive me, if I abandoned my post now.

I turn from my hunt. Race towards the ward stones out front. I'll have to help the others reinforce them. Lend the Clan my strength. As long as they can't get in? We should be-

The wards SHUT OFF.

Even as I run, fast as I can, I watch with horrified eyes... as they slide back away. No. No no NO! They should do that! That CAN'T DO THAT! That's IMPOSSIBLE! Those are SEIGE Wards! Built over generations! Hundreds of mages poured power into them! Went over them with pin prick combs! They don't 'malfunction'!

Oh god. Please, God, NO!

Did someone SHUT THEM DOWN?!

Ahead, the sounds of violence and chaos draw near. Above, I can finally see what's raining down on us. It's war magic. FIRE war magic. Thrown from air ships, who's spotlights bathe the compound in a terrible, all consuming light. All the better, to prevent our Shadows from reaching even a single one of them.

Someone told. They didn't know about that limitation to our powers before. Our front gate! Open! Traitor, traitor, TRAITOR! WHO!?

Across the chaos, the bloodshed and death, familiar color catches my eye. Explosions and spotlights light him from above. The airships blades, kicking up leaves and dust. That familiar, familiar color. From his Father.... the fire mage.

Alphard stands so calmly, one hand still resting on the command stone for the wards. As chaos reigns around him. The pleased little smile on his face, the one he wears, when all his plans come together, ever so nicely. No. Please. No.

His eyes are so cold. So flat.

He feels nothing as they die. Doesn't even glance, at the kinsmen desperately calling his name. Dying at his feet. He... he doesn't look away. Just raises one hand, one finger, and...

"Shhhhhh~ Be. Good." He says, utterly silent in his betrayal.

My world shatters.

I run.

Slamming my palm against the evacuation alarm, sirens begin to blare. It's over. It's all... all fucking over. How could he? H-How COULD-? Grief wants to choke me, blind me, but I don't have the TIME. I have to get out. Survive. I.. I can cry later. Mourn for the friend I THOUGHT I had, later. I trusted him. FUCK, I TRUSTED him!

I skid around the corner, heading towards the closest exit. Gotta grab my bug out b-!

Shadows in the darkened hallway surge, up and over, like a heavy hand slamming down. I barely drag myself out of the way. Lose my footing as I do. Go crashing to the floor. Scrambling, I turn as my shadows hiss, only to be met with deeper rumbling thunder. Shit. No!

I try to get up. Fling my self up into a run. Only to meet a shadow formed backhand. Smashed, thrown. Finding myself slammed back, onto the floor, wheezing. The air knocked out of me. Lightly, dark shapes takes form. Alphard stepping through blank and barren wall, using the Shadows under his control as a medium.

Not a hair out of place.

Just the two of us.

Alone.

"Why the rush, mischief?" He teased lightly, as though my world was not collapsing, all around us. As though my best friend had not betrayed me, betrayed US, to our doom. Up and down the hall, sirens blared. "You look upset."

I snarled. Grief and betrayal twisting into something ugly in my chest. Hand whipping out, I aimed for his fucking throat.

"Ah~, you're mad. Is this because I didn't consult with you first? Mischief, there was so much to do! You know you hate all those boring political meetings. Alliance work and archival research. Sweetie, there were stake outs! You hate those."

Effortlessly, he leaned out of the way of my attacks, looking amused and unbothered as he continued to speak. I RAGED. Screamed. Taking chunks of the wall behind me, to use as projectiles. Anything. Anything, anything, ANYTHING! Just HURT, damn you! TRAITOR! How COULD YOU!?

In the distance... the haunting, damning, final cries of my kin, as the died.

I Trusted You!

"I know~" he laughed, as though nothing had changed. As though this were a fucking GAME! "It was so easy, too."

His voice became two toned in a way that could only be magic. One that was heard, one that was felt. One that... that I had...! Realization did not crash. It seeped, like the cold and fatal poison it was. His betrayal was not NEW... was it? Not SUDDEN.

I... I had been betrayed long, long ago.

No you weren't. Alphard loves you~

How long had he been in my head? He was my magical instructor. I had hated the Clan's main teachers. Right? DID I? Could I even know? H..How much? For HOW LONG?! I was a CHILD! Had no defenses against the manipulations of my mind! Would you really stoop so LOW?! Was ANYTHING real!? ANY part of out friendship-!?

I choked, on the sob I refused to let him have. He... he didn't have the RIGHT.

"Oh, Mischief." He said, sounding mournful as he strolled easily through the ruins I had created around us. "Don't cry. Shhh, shhhh. It's okay, dear. You're upset. This is upsetting, I understand that. But we will preserver, overcome, and together? We will get through this."

We? There was no 'WE'. N-Not anymore. Not after THIS.

"Oh but that's where you're wrong, Mischief." He breathes out, like the confession of the truely insane, his voice soft. Yet, somehow? Bonechilling in how loud it seemed.

"I get you."

"That's the first thing I demanded, after all! No more idiots. No more dead weight. No insults, fools, or brats I can't break! Ha ha! Just me and my Mischief! Free at last! And all it cost me? Was my chains. Best of all? All the idiot Fire brat wanted for it all? Was his 'competition' out of the way! Ha ha ha! Gods bless, usefull fools!"

He stood before me now. Head thrown back, hand over his eyes in disbelief, as he laughed and laughed. Unhinged with his euphoria. With the machinations, that had lead to his victory. And... and I could not recognize him. This... this monster wearing the face of my best friend. I felt numb. Cold and far away. I... I just... I wanted to go away... please, God. Far, far away.

Stop it. Please, Alphard... Stop it...

P-please...

My shadows curled around me. Battered, torn, but ever loyal. They would not leave me. Not even now. Not even to save themselves. Weakly hissing. Thrashing, trying, in their own small ways, to appear bigger and stronger threats then they were. In... in the vain hope that... that the thing that was hurting us? Might believe them.

Might leave me alone.

I had never felt so unsafe, surrounded by the shadows sworn to my once friend. How many times? How many times? Had I fed and played with these very Magics? Snuck them charcoal? Interesting toys to burn? Creatures of fire and shadow. Massive and rumbling, the very Shadows that once played with my own... now tore them apart.

It burned. Hurt. Who...? WHO was this man? This monster? That wore my best friends face? I couldn't... I can't... please! God, please! Don't make me do this anymore...

My mind, somewhere between delirious and screaming, for some god forsaken reason? Reminded me of the Quite Game. I... I wondered, terrified and full of grief, if the children would know to run. Not to wait, for parents that... that would not be coming. Not this time. Not ever again. All because of this man.

The smoke on the breeze terrified me. Everything terrified me. How? How could I possibly hold so much fear? How could there possibly be MORE? Just as I think I can not feel it anymore deeply. Once again, Alphard teaches me I am wrong. This... this is not how he, is... is supposed to be... how WE are...!

"Oh sweetheart, mischief, darling..." He again attempted to sooth, hand slipping away from his face as he rolled his head down to peer at me. Kneeling with almost boneless fluidity. "None of that. No more tears. Alphy's here, okay? I know change is scary. And you're upset and confused. But Alphy loves you just like always, and nothings gonna happen to you, alright?"

"Remember how you wanted to travel before? See those festivals? Go abroad? We get to do that now! Alphy can take CARE of you, now. Properly. Get you all the things you deserve. It'll be great, Mischief. No more stress or tears. Cuddles for days. You'll love it, I promise."

From beneath his feet, spreading like a terrible rot, black fire spread. It didn't touch me. Couldn't, as it seemed to reach, with greedy hands, down the halls. Consuming the only home I'd ever known in this life. Consuming everyone it touched, if the distant sounds of panic, were any indication. He was killing them all. Friend, foe, what difference was there?

Everything burned.

Numb, I could only sit there, before the stranger I thought I'd known.

"Our love story's been a long time coming, sweetness. My perfect, beautiful, Mischief~♡. Once we're free? We'll never look back. Have the happily ever after we deserve. Let the rest of the burn."

"I'm so glad I found you, Mischief. So glad I made you mine. It's going to be beautiful, darling. I promise. You'll thank me."

"Now come here, to Alphy. We're gonna play a game~♡"

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baldursgate3tempobsessed · 2 years ago

Note

K follow me Astarion just sees tav like loving on children wherever they go and hes like?????

And tavs like ive always wanted my own child but i didn't wabt to ask you with every

This sends poor starion into a crisis does he was children how many

I think I have followed you. Let's see!

So for this one we got a lil time jump, ambiguous and vague setting and timelines with game spoilers present. M/F pairing because that is my go to and pregnancy is mentioned. Vampiric pregnancy also so there is some weirdness there (i made it up no idea if it's dnd accurate). Vague Tav backstory of a wonderful mother and going off to become a cleric.

Astarion was well used to your antics by this point. You had a severe lack of instincts linked to self-preservation, which led to a consistent pattern of doing, frankly, stupid shit. Stupid, but kind. Nothing that Astarion hadn't adapted to, after nearly two years of being attached at the hip you became pretty attuned to your lover's personality.

He could even go as far as to say that he had grown to love your annoying predilection for pious morality. Perhaps he loved talking you out of certain virtuous dangers more, but still. He appreciated who you were, he adored who you were. But Astarion was no saint, despite his insistence on attaching himself to one.

Which is exactly why he was far from amused when you signed him up to babysit a couple of brats. All for acquittances he barely cared about.

But you at least had the good grace to look guilty, "I didn't mean to! But she looked so tired and she said their anniversary was coming up and it's not like we got anything for their wedding-"

That was a nice try, one that Astarion wasn't falling for, "We didn't know of their existence when they got married darling. Just because I can't remember their names doesn't mean you can trick me."

"I'm not trying to trick you!" You whined, arms crossed as you pouted. It sure felt like a trick, especially when Astarion knew that you were well-aware how easily he fell for your sulking. Adorable little monster that you were, "It's only three kids and a baby for one night, it won't be that bad! You don't even have to help-"

Astarion rolled his eyes as he sat next to you on the bed, "I didn't say I wouldn't help."

That seemed to do the trick to get the pout off of your face. You perked up immediately, looking at him like you couldn't quite believe it, "Really?"

"Yes, really," Astarion sighed as you tugged you closer. Sure he liked to bitch, but he really would do anything for you. Even extremely annoying things like this, "I'm not going to sit back and feed you to the wolves."

"They're not wolves! The oldest is barely five," You laughed as you let him manhandle you, settling you into his lap, "And I am sorry, I really wasn't thinking. I promise it won't happen again."

Astarion doubted that, not when he was well-versed of your weak spot for children. No matter where you went you couldn't help but fawn over them, not to mention the insane lengths you would go to keep any child safe. It was a complete and utter blind spot, your kindness extending to them all, even the little scam artists and hellions.

It was sweet, if not extremely worrying at first. Astarion had been terrified of you finding out his past. The things that he had been forced to do, the innocents whose lives he had destroyed. But not only did you find out, you were forced to see it. Both of you were, and it had been worse than anything Astarion could have imagined. He had always found a slight comfort knowing that those he captured would at least die quickly, that at the very least they wouldn't suffer the same agonizing fate as he, just an agonizing death. But no, even that small comfort had been a lie. The horror of finding them all down there has yet to be matched. He had never felt more self-loathing, more pure disgust than the moment he had found those children, tortured and pale, all because of him.

How you didn't see him for the wretched thing he was after all that, Astarion wasn't sure. But he was grateful. You were too good for him. A fact that he was devastatingly aware of, but that wasn't going to stop him from keeping you.

He still thinks about it on occasion, despite the fact that he had done all he could to right his wrongs. They all at least had a chance now to have a life worth living, Astarion could only hope that it would be used. Their future was out of his hands now, a small comfort.

But despite his complicated feelings towards children, he was more than capable of handling them for one evening. And in all honesty, he truly didn't have to do much. He was on self-mandated baby duty, because of course you had to help out the infant that would scream bloody murder unless it was being held. Keeping her tucked against him was a move of self-preservation, if he ever wanted to retain his hearing.

Most of the night was spent amused as he watched you entertain a gaggle of toddlers. You were so... creative with the ways you could defuse their antics. It came to you so naturally, nearly like you were a born mother yourself. It wasn't exactly surprising that you were fantastic with children, he had seen it time and time again. Arabella, Mol, Yenna, all of which still wrote you letters, visited occasionally. Staying forever attached, even from a distance.

Now that Astarion thought about it, it was odd that you weren't a mother. Odder still that you hadn't never even brought up the possibility of having children together. You were usually so open with your wants and always encouraging the same from him. Just one more thing he loved about you. But... why hadn't it been mentioned? Astarion had always assumed it was because you didn't truly want any of your own, that you enjoyed their fun innocence while avoiding the more laborious responsibility of raising them.

Though watching you take care of them all, changing diapers and negotiating silly arguments with a soft smile of your face had him rethinking his assumption.

"You're good with them," Astarion said eventually after you had successfully set the older three down for the night, the baby still stubbornly clinging to him, "I don't think there's a child we've met that doesn't adore you."

You laughed quietly, walking over to kiss him softly on the cheek. Your eyes wandered to the sleeping infant in his arms, still holding a piece of his shirt in it's little fist, "You don't seem to be too bad with them either."

"Newborns don't know any better," Astarion dismissed as he tried to put her down in their borrowed crib. Tried and failed, considering how the thing immediately started to whine the second he attempted to pry it's little hand away.

Oh for fuck's sake. Astarion wasn't even going to try and argue. Instead he unbuttoned his shirt and let it fall into the crib with her, seemingly doing the trick of stopping her from waking completely.

When he turned back you were staring at him with soft eyes, looking lovestruck at the simple act of him laying a child down, "Looks like she has pretty good taste to me."

"I don't think your judgment should be trusted," Astarion huffed as he walked over to you, grabbing your hand to drag you to the bedroom. He glanced back at you, his heart nearly skipping a beat from the sweet way you kept looking at him. It had his mind wandering again, those questions still nagging him.

Questions that he didn't have the courage to ask until dead of night, when he had you half asleep against his bare chest, "Have you ever thought of having children?"

He hadn't meant to blurt that out in the middle of the night, but Astarion apparently had a knack for starting important conversations at inconvenient times. Not that you minded.

You just cuddled into him closer, nodding against him with a sigh, "I've always wanted my own children. My own mother, Gods bless her soul, made it all sound so magical. Pregnancy, the early years, puberty, all of it. She loved it all. And I guess it rubbed off on me. It used to be all I could think about, before real life got in the way."

Astarion listened, a little annoyed at himself for not putting the pieces together sooner. You had talked so lovingly about your late parents, how you always wanted to be like your mother. Of course you would want children. How had he not connected the dots?

"But then I went off to the temple," You continued, "I completed my training, went off into the world to do good, blah, blah, blah. You know the story."

"So you grew out of the idea?" Astarion asked.

"Not exactly," You admitted, sounding a little guilty, "But I would never ask that of you love, it's not something you have to worry about."

That-what?

Astarion stared down at you, brow furrowed, "What do you mean?"

"I mean I know that the topic of children is... difficult for you. Considering everything you've been through-"

"I think you mean to say everything I've inflicted on others," Astarion interrupted, unwilling to allow himself grace. Especially when it came to the children of the Gur, "It was much worse for them than me."

You nodded, knowing better than to try and fight him on that particular topic, "I understand, but my point is that I can live without them. You're all I need."

It was comforting to hear, an immediate balm to a brand new set of insecurities that Astarion hadn't been prepared for. But even so... he hated the idea of you sacrificing even more for him. It felt wrong, "But-"

"But nothing," You interrupted softly, setting a quick kiss to his mouth, I'm serious Astarion, you don't need to worry. I'm happy, I love you, and everything is fine."

"I love you too," Astarion murmured, at a loss to say anything else. But the conversation didn't end there.

Astarion couldn't stop thinking about it, even long after the temporary children were sent back home. ou seemed so... sure that he didn't want children, and a week ago he probably would have agreed. But that was back before he knew that he was actively keeping you away from something you wanted. Something you had dreamed about since you were a child. And it felt wrong to be the reason for that, so, so wrong.

He didn't even know if his true feelings on the matter were real. He didn't want children for many of the same reasons he never wanted a partner. The attachment to another was dangerous, he was beyond unequipped to deal with others, let alone care for them, and the entire ideology behind love was ripe for manipulation and heart break. But then he met you and everything changed. Suddenly, caring for another didn't feel like a weakness, it felt like the strongest aspect of his entire self. Taking care of you wasn't an unwanted duty, it was intimacy. Something that he now craved. If all of those steadfast ideals could fall apart simply through meeting you, whose to say he could even trust himself when it came the thoughts around having a child?

Would having one truly be so bad? A little piece of the two of you, alive in the world? And perhaps children were annoying but... Astarion would be lying if he said he didn't have a soft spot for them. He had kept his distance before, but now he was fully confident that he wasn't a danger, no with Cazador burned to nothing bus ash and his own bloodlust well controlled. And it's not as if he was incapable of being a father, worse men than him did it everyday.

It was a confusing place to be, this tightwire of indecisiveness. Confusing enough for him to start a bit of research. He was vaguely aware that it was possible for his kind to breed, but finding out the details was disheartening, to say the least. First he had to parse out the different horror stories of babes eating their way out of their mother's wombs with actual facts, which wasn't exactly pleasant. But the truth was that it was more than possible for the two of you to have child together. It had the potential to either be as noneventful as any pregnancy, with the cavate that the babe coming out looking slightly... dead wouldn't be a permanent state of being. Or it could be as risky as carrying a child could be, with pains and complications galore, even legitimate worries of internal bleeding from the wretched thing prematurely growing claws. Not to mention the occasional, intense blood lust that could occur, an experience that Astarion would prefer you didn't have to go to.

Looking into the reality of the choice didn't help as much as he had assumed it would. If anything it just made the whole situation more real. Even if he wasn't a vampiric spawn, childbirth was risky. Maybe not as risky for you considering how Astarion would move the heavens and hells to get you the best care possible, but still. The thought of you passing, leaving him alone with the child you wanted and would never see, would destroy him. Completely and utterly.

But then again... there was the magical alternative of everything working out just fine. The two of you were both beyond lucky in that regard, considering how you'd overcome mind flayer parasites and fought and won against a near god. It was more than possible that everything would be fine, that you would have a beautiful pregnancy that would end in an even more amazing child. Then two would become three, a family of his very own.

That... didn't sound too bad. Astarion was torn. On one hand, he was almost certain that he was willing to go through with it. Not just because he loved you and wanted you to be happy, though it was the main reason. But also because... he could be a part in making something good. A child that would never suffer the way he did, the way countless others had. One who would be loved, who would have the help they needed for their inevitable unholy hungers. Someone precious for the two of you to fret over, to adore and care for. He... wanted that. Or at least he would if you still did. Now if he could just figure out how to bring it up, maybe something could actually happen.

But luckily enough for him, you did the job for him. He had been pouring over another book dedicated to recording the births of Dhampirs in the area, only to be distracted by you loudly sighing behind him.

"What's wrong love?" Astarion asked, his eyes still scanning the page in front of him.

"Oh I don't know," You sighed, rounding the corner to sit on the edge of his desk, "I just can't help but wonder when you're going to explain why you've suddenly become obsessed with parenting books. And..."

You trailed off, ignoring his surprised expression to read the cover of what was in front of him, "'Vampiric and Mortal Love & The Spawn They Create'. It's not exactly your usual reading material."

Part of Astarion wanted to be surprised that you had already figured him out. He had at least been trying to hide things from you slightly, not that it mattered when you could read him like a book. And he supposed that blatantly reading things like this in front of you would eventually have an effect, even if he tried to obscure the titles.

But that didn't stop him from stuttering through a response, "Well-I, okay. I've just been thinking about options lately. Which you can't really do if you don't understand what they are. Hence the books."

You frowned at him, one leg crossed over the other, "Star, I already told you that you don't need to worry-"

"But I want to worry," Astarion interrupted, deciding that ripping the band-aid off would be the best course of action, "And if there is something I can be doing to make you happier than I should at least consider it."

"I'm not going to force you into this for that," You said softly, reaching out to twine his fingers against yours, "This isn't the kind of thing you do just for someone else."

Astarion was aware of that, there was an important truth to your words. But... "What if it wasn't just for you?"

You paused, your brow furrowed as you stared at him, "What do you mean?"

"I mean what if, and consider this purely hypothetical, what if I wanted one as well. What then?" It was as far from hypothetical as Astarion could get, but by the look on your face it didn't seemed like that needed to be clarified.

You swallowed, looking just shy of hopeful as you played with his hand, "I... well. I guess in that case we would have a lot to talk about."

That wasn't quite the answer he was looking for. He pressed on, "So if in theory, I did want one. Would... you still be interested in having one?"

With me?

He left that part unsaid as he waited for an answer, uncharacteristically nervous as you mulled it over. But you were smiling, bright and wide, giving his hand a little squeeze as you spoke, "I think that would be the only scenario where I would want it. If that's something you wanted."

"I think it is," Astarion answered honestly, done with being coy, "I don't know how, I... I'm not quite sure how I feel about you carrying something that could be dangerous. But... in general yes. I think I want this. I do want this. With you and only you. Whenever your ready."

The next part Astarion did see coming, his arms already open by the time you launched yourself at him. You straddled his lap, kissing every part of his face as you babbled, "We can wait! It doesn't need to be now but-I just-yes! Adoption, childbirth, I don't care. All I need is to have them with you. That's all I want."

"And that I can give," Astarion laughed, delighted at your reaction. He still had concerns, plenty of them in fact, but they were hard to consider when the woman he adored was so ecstatic.

He gripped your chin, chuckling at the whine you let out for him interrupting your onslaught of affection. You didn't have to wait long, not when he directed your mouth against his, kissing you deeply as a new wave of exciting, and slightly nauseating feelings worked through him.

He didn't know exactly what was going to happen in the future. He had no idea if he would be a good father, but he knew that he would try his damndest. He didn't know how the two of you would even procure a child, but he did no one thing.

With you by his side, it would work out. All of it, no matter how hard the road turned out to be. And that was all that mattered.

#astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #asks #you'll pry my long posts out of my cold dead hands #spoilers #pregnancy mention #should i do a part 2 of this?#dhampir baby part two?#fun fact im actually so scared of pregnancy it sounds like hell to me #so pregnancy/child fics are very interesting to write #personally #i'm getting through these asks slowly but surely #nine more to go!

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boyswillbebuggsorsomething · 4 months ago

Text

If I Saw Him, I’d Still Kiss Him - Pt. 2

Spencer Reid x M!Reader

Summary: After you and Spencer reunited, you started becoming close again, however a bad night out led to you getting closer much faster than you thought.

Warnings: Vaguely inspired by If I Saw Him, I’d Still Kiss Him by McCafferty but specifically the last verse, cursing, drinking/alcohol consumption, R needs healthier coping mechanisms, R is drunk, drunk person written by someone who does not drink and only has experience with angry drunks and people who turn into a bad folk band while drunk, allusions to casual sex/hooking up, mentions of fighting/violence and subsequent injuries, no physical descriptions for R other than having hair and having had previously broken his nose, R & Spencer’s past is somewhat inspired by Trees & Trees II by McCafferty (but that isn’t really expanded upon in this, it will be later though), probably ooc, so many commas, NOT PROOFREAD OR EDITED

A/N: Y’all, R is kind of just bordering on being a functioning alcoholic at this point, he really needs better coping mechanisms, however it will be explained why he is the way he is soon, and he will get better. Also, I’m sorry if this was inconsistent, it was written over the span of multiple days with very little re-reading as I have been busy with art stuff and finals. Thank you so much for all the support you gave me on the first part, I’m glad y’all liked it! The ending kinda sucks but most of it I like, I'm sorry it took so long to release. Thank you all so much for reading!

Word Count: 6093

Mornings with Spencer had become by far your favourite thing in recent weeks.

Ever since you two had reunited, you had started seeing each other more and more. It started as just coffee once to catch up, simple really. You told him about all the places you’ve lived in since he left Nevada, pointedly excluding the exact reason behind why you moved around so much. You’d tell him soon. You told him about what brought you to Virginia, a job offer writing as a proper journalist, the best paying job you’d had in a long time. He told you about the years leading up to his position at the BAU, the years spent at school, the academy, all that good stuff. He also told you about his team, the ones you saw only briefly that night at the bar, his second family. You learned quite a lot about them, and despite having never met them, you had already started picking favourites, but you wouldn’t admit that to him.

One coffee became two. Two became three became five, until every day that he wasn’t on a case you got coffee at the little shop that was the perfect distance between his apartment and his office, even though it was a little out of the way for you. He always got his coffee with too much sugar, sweeter than you’d ever seen anyone else take it, and you got tea. You never could get into coffee the way everyone else did, you always thought it tasted burnt.

Sometimes, when Spencer wasn’t paying attention, you’d study his features in greater detail. The way his almond hair would curl just a bit at the ends, showing its natural texture the slightest amount. It would forever confuse you why he chose to straighten his hair when you knew exactly how lovely it would look natural. The way his mouth flattened out when he smiled, and his eyes twinkled with the most gorgeous spark you had ever gotten the chance to see. The way he spoke with his hands, and fidgeted with them endlessly. You had especially grown to love the way his face grew pink when you complimented him. You hadn’t intended to fluster him so much when you told him how pretty was, but he hadn’t experienced your affinity for compliments in a decade, so as a result you got the most beautiful smile and a lovely, bashful “Really? Thank you.” in response. After that, you’d taken to complimenting him more often, just to see that glimmer in his eyes, like a puppy who’d been called a good boy for the first time. He still wrinkled his nose when he smelled cigarettes on you, despite his best efforts to hide it, and it was so pitiful at times that you would let him lecture you on the hazards of smoking. You liked listening to him talk anyways, even if it was a mind numbing monologue about how you were killing yourself. Usually it wasn’t though. Usually it was about a case or a book or a documentary or Dr. Who, which he still hadn’t convinced you to watch yet.

Today was no different. You were sat across from each other at the same table you always sat at, you and Spencer had both sworn off all unnecessary change in this routine. His large hands were wrapped around the mug, steam emanating from it and filling the air with the sweet scent of his coffee. You had an herbal tea clasped in your hands, hoping desperately its calming benefits would help you with the stress of the past week.

“Are you alright?” Spencer asked after you had yawned for the third time during the conversation you were having about Sherlock Holmes, as you had recently picked up a full collection of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s works, much to his elation.

“Yeah, sorry. Work’s just been a lot lately, y’know?” You chuckled slightly, a bit self pityingly, and you mentally kicked yourself for it. Spencer, as much as you had grown to love him all over again, was still a profiler, and had this horrible habit of profiling you without realising, and he had plenty to say about the way you laughed at yourself anytime you felt anything at all.

“I understand, I’m sorry,” his brows furrowed the slightest bit and there was genuine concern behind the statement.

“Nah, you don’t need to feel bad or anything. I knew what I was getting into, and honestly it’s not that bad. I mean, you hunt down serial killers for fuck’s sake, writing an annoying article is nothing. Just exhausting.”

“Exhaustion, especially exhaustion caused by work induced stress actually has a lot of adverse health effects, like migraines, worsening social abilities, and can even affect other aspects of your life, including productivity, so actually your work being stressful and exhausting can be making your work significantly harder which in turn makes it more stressful and exhausting, which really just gets you stuck in a loop of burn out that is incredibly hard to get out of.”

“Thanks, Spencer. You really do know everything, huh?” You smiled, shaking your head in response to his encyclopedic knowledge you know for a fact he was simplifying for you.

“Thank you?” He tilted his head slightly, and you couldn’t help but laugh. He really was like a puppy sometimes. It was sweet though. And you were glad he learned to take your teasing as compliments again. The first few times you had gone to the coffee shop, he had been horribly apologetic about whatever you ended up teasing him for and it made you feel utterly horrendous to have made him feel bad over something so sweet.

You opened your mouth to respond before the shrill ring of his phone began, interrupting your lovely conversation.

“Hotch?” You asked as he picked up the call, earning a sympathetic, tight lipped smile and a nod in response.

And with that, your daily meet up was ended. Spencer gathered his things, apologising profusely for having to leave despite your constant assurances that you didn’t care, his job was more important than coffee.

Sometimes you wished you were a better liar.

…………………

On most cases in recent weeks, you’d call or text Spencer daily, making sure he was okay and providing levity to the grim situations. However, the night he’d gotten back, he hadn’t gotten a single message from you, let alone the usual call where you demanded he told you exactly what happened to him so you could ensure he wasn’t injured or dead. You’d only been in contact now for a couple months, eight weeks or so, he couldn’t expect you to constantly be in contact with him, but routine was important to you both, always had been, and it felt strange that you wouldn’t at least text him when he landed. Something felt wrong and he was getting worried.

Morgan noticed first, as Spencer’s brow furrowed and he drummed his finger against his thigh. He rested his large hand, warm and comforting on Spencer’s shoulder.

“Hey, pretty boy, you okay?” The warm tones of Morgan’s voice jolted him out of his thoughts.

“I am. Just worried about a friend. I think something might’ve happened? I don’t know though. He usually calls or texts when the cases are over, and I haven’t heard from him since yesterday morning.”

“I’m sure your friend is fine. He’s a grown man, he can take care of himself, Reid.”

Spencer nodded, trying to believe Morgan, but something was eating away at the back of his mind.

Could you really?

He’d met you for the first time in a decade when you were trying to get drunk enough you couldn’t think. You seemingly had no other friends in the state other than him, save for coworkers you never put in the effort to see unless you had to. You smoked until you were wheezing daily, and refused to even try to quit. In all the time he’s seen you, he hadn’t seen you drink water once, just tea, alcohol, and the occasional energy drink. You really weren’t the greatest at self preservation. Never had been. He doubted you ever would be.

Just as he was getting stuck in his head, his phone rang, and much to his delight it was your number. His face must have lit up, because Morgan grinned at him.

“See, kid? Probably just got wrapped up with his own job or something. You worry too much.”

Spencer agreed, until he actually picked up the phone, “Hello?”

“Hey, Spence,” you slurred on the other line.

Something was clearly wrong. He was vaguely aware of Morgan’s face dropping, his brow creasing, but his focus was on your call.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothin’, nothin’, don’t worry. I’m okay. ‘M okay. Sorry for callin’ you like this” you laughed slightly, but it was bitter and hollow.

“You’re not okay, you’re slurring your words, and you sound completely out of it. Have you been drinking?” Spencer’s voice was stern, there was kindness beneath it, but his worry and annoyance was equally clear.

“Jus’ a li’l bit, Spence. Not- I’m okay.”

“Stop,” he interrupted, voice softening, “Please.”

You simply hummed in response.

“Where are you?”

“Bar.”

“Obviously. What bar?”

“Uh, the one I saw you at. Tha’ one.”

“O’Keefe’s?”

“Mhm. Can you pick me up?”

God, you sounded pitiful. He regretted having taken the subway when he had gone to work, before the flight. You’d mentioned offhandedly once that the subway made you sick sometimes, and he really did not want to risk that with your inebriated state.

“I don’t have my car with me,” Spencer murmured somewhat apologetically, even though he had no hand in your poor choices to get this drunk.

“Oh.”

At that horrible, broken tone your voice possessed, he looked to Morgan, holding the phone away from his ear for a moment.

“What is it, kid?”

“Would you be able to pick my friend up from O’Keefe’s? I don’t- I don’t know why he’s there or why he’s so drunk, but I know he can’t stay there. He’s really bad at not getting himself in bad situations. Or even just bring me to find him? It’s alright if you can’t, I understand it’s weird to pick up a drunk guy you've never met-”

“Hey,” Morgan cut him off, smiling reassuringly, “I can definitely do that, where am I bringing him?”

“I don’t know his address, just bring us both to my apartment?”

“Of course,” He smiled before continuing, “Hey, and I get to meet the mystery man that’s somehow gotten Spencer Reid to willingly use technology everyday, who wouldn’t want that?”

Spencer offered him a small, tight lipped smile, quietly telling you he was coming to get you and hanging up before they made their way to the elevator and subsequently to Morgan’s car. The drive was mostly silent, Spencer’s mind running a mile a minute as he tried to figure out why the hell you would do this when you couldn’t even guarantee you’d have a way back home. His hands moved in tandem with his mind. Wringing and tapping. He wished he could somehow drive to you while also being up and moving.

When they pulled up outside of O’Keefe’s, Spencer practically jumped out of the car to go to you. You were crouched in the spot you had stood next to him that first night, your head in your hands and clearly worse for wear. He jogged over to you, crouching down and placing his hands on your shoulders, jolting you enough that you looked up at him. Your eyes were glassy and half lidded as you looked up at him, a drunken haze softening your expression. Most jarringly, however, your lower lip was split and a trail of dried blood was smudged across your upper lip. You smiled up at him, sighing slightly.

“Hey, Spencer, you came.”

“Of course I did, Wha- what happened?”

“Got in a little fight, ‘m okay,” You slurred in response, blinking up at him.

“C’mon,” He muttered, hoisting you up, making you slump against him a bit, “I’m not going to make you explain all this right now, not when you’re this drunk, but we are going to get you home, and cleaned up.”

You hummed in response, stumbling slightly along with him over to Morgan’s car. He helped you in, resulting in a copious amount of thanks from your end, which made Spencer flush slightly in embarrassment. He then slid into the seat beside you in the back, rather than in the passenger seat where he had sat on the way over, watching you through the corner of his eye.

“What the hell happened to him, kid?” Morgan looked bewildered, concern etched into every groove of his face.

“I don’t.. Know. He said it was a fight, I don’t want to interrogate him while he’s drunk,” Spencer groaned, scrubbing his hand over his face, watching your slumped form in the other seat.

“Well, he seems great already,” The somewhat concerned sarcasm was practically dripping from Morgan's words as he adjusted his hands on the wheel and began to drive off.

“He’s usually not like this, I think- I don’t know why he is tonight,” Spencer’s eyes were trained on you, a slender hand resting on your knee comfortingly.

“Y’know, I can hear you,” You murmured in a sing-song voice, glancing up at Spencer and laughing that same hollow laugh.

“Sorry-”

“What’s your friend's name? You didn’ tell me. I wanna thank him.”

“His name is Derek Morgan, he’s one of the members of my team. I told you about him before,” Spencer explained calmly.

“Derek’s a stupid fuckin’ name,” You muttered quietly, earning a bemused scoff from Morgan, continuing in a louder voice, “Thank you for driving me home, Morgan. I ain’t calling you Derek.”

“No problem,” He laughed, nodding when you introduced yourself, slurring your words as you did so.

The conversation lulled, and your eyes drooped closed, your head resting against the window. Despite your drunken state, you found your thoughts surprisingly clear, muddled, but clear enough to make sense of. Decidedly, this was the worse outcome than not being able to make sense of anything at all. You didn’t like this in between state. The one where your thoughts were jumbled and loud and screaming for attention and not one could do anything to make you feel better. You wanted to cry and laugh and scream and break something all at once, but you wouldn’t. You had enough of your wits about you to not trash a stranger's car, or fight with your only actual friend, or pull any of that shit no matter how appealing it seemed in the moment. You were different now, better.

Eventually Morgan pulled up in front of Spencer’s apartment, earning a slew of thanks from both Spencer and yourself as he helped you out of the car. You leaned heavily against Spencer as he guided you into his building, the lanky man keeping you as steady as he could while you were seemingly dead set on just falling face first on the ground.

“C’mon,” he murmured calmly, “we’re almost there. You cannot just lay in the middle of a hallway.”

“You are not the man I thought I’d be spending my night with,” you hummed, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips, “Not mad though.”

“What?”

His confusion earned a small laugh from you as he continued to drag you through the halls of the building until stopping in front of his door. You stepped away briefly, leaning against the wall so he could unlock the door.

“Thank you, Spencer,” you hummed in a sing-song voice as he guided you into his apartment.

“Of course,” he sighed, “I’m gonna get you some water and then a first aid kit, okay?”

“You don’t need to, ‘m okay,” you grumbled, kicking off your shoes.

“You’re injured, for one, and it’s actually very important to drink water after getting this drunk, it helps prevent any dehydration and helps your body rid itself of toxins. Both of which are beneficial to your health and can lessen your hangover symptoms tomorrow,” Spencer explained as he sat you down on his couch and stepped into his kitchen.

“You’re too nice to me. I’m just fine,” you sighed deeply, slumping against his couch.

“Getting drunk and fighting someone while drunk with no way home is very different from being fine,” he stated sternly, a touch of confusion colouring his tone at your insistence, as he filled a glass with water and brought it over to you.

“I did have a way home at first,” you took the water, not wanting to fight him on this when his eyes were so wide with worry.

“What do you mean ‘at first’?”

“He was drinking just as much as me, I wasn’t gonna get in a car with a drunk driver. I might not be a genius, but I ain’t that stupid,” you explained, drinking down the water steadily, “You’ve got good water,” you added absentmindedly.

“Thank you?” He couldn't quite tell what the appropriate reaction to the complement(?) was, so he just went back to the kitchen to grab his first aid kit out from under the sink, bringing it back over “But who were you going to go home with, I thought you didn’t know anyone here? Not well, at least,” Spencer sat beside you, tilting his head in that puppy-like way.

“Mm-mm. Didn’t know him.”

He took a second to understand, momentarily confused at why anyone would be going around with someone they barely know, the amount of cases that started that way-

Then it clicked.

“Oh.”

You nodded, sipping at the water more gingerly now.

“I’m very glad you called me then. A random guy is definitely not worth a major car accident- Actually, I doubt any guy is worth getting in a car with a drunk driver with the mortality rates and amount of crashes caused by them,” Spencer smiled reassuringly, setting his hand on your knee comfortingly before he opened up the first aid kit to clean up your split lip and wipe away all the dried blood.

He took out one of those alcohol swabs and asked you gently to turn your head towards him so he could access your face better. Spencer took his time as he cleaned away the blood and grime from your face, holding your jaw softly in a way that made your breath hitch ever so slightly. His touch had this wonderful, calming quality that was so distinctly Spencer that you could recognise it in any situation at any time in any place. As he finished, he offered you a sweet little smile you felt obligated to return, regardless of your state.

“Thanks for getting me,” You murmured softly as he packed up the kit and set it aside.

“You’ve already thanked me enough times, you’re my friend, I wasn’t going to let you stay in a dangerous situation like that for any reason at all.”

“Too nice to me,” you decided, setting the glass down and shifting to lean against him, “You’re warm.”

“Thank you? You confuse me sometimes.”

“Good.”

He smiled warmly and hesitantly moved his hand to rest on your shoulder, holding you gently to his side. You reacted well, curling up against him, resting against him how you did years ago on days where you just couldn’t bring yourself to sleep the night before. It was a comfort you hadn’t realised you missed so much in your time apart. You sat there for a bit, your eyelids heavy as he gently rubbed your arm. Your brain had quieted down in Spencer’s hold, his own mind running a mile a minute as he tried to come up with a reason for you to be this drunk on a random day of the week, other than your complete lack of care for yourself and your safety. His apartment had an environment that felt foreign to you, a warm blanket enveloping your whole being and permeating your soul. The walls were lined with books, additional texts stacked on every surface imaginable and strewn around regardless of where they were, as though he had placed them down without thinking as soon as they were finished and moved on to another book. Even the air itself had an electricity that made everything seem warmer, not really temperature wise, but warm like the feeling in your chest when you were with someone you loved, that kind of fuzzy warmth. You liked his apartment, it felt like a proper home.

“You should get some sleep,” Spencer murmured softly, shifting a bit to let you lay down.

You frowned slightly, hesitating before mumbling, “You should stay out here with me. I don’t like sleeping by myself. And I’m really comfortable on you.”

Spencer paused only briefly before relaxing again, “Okay, but you need to let me get up so I can change out of my work clothes.” And to move you to not the couch.

You groaned dramatically before sitting back up and letting him go to his room to change. When he exited the room, rather than sitting down with you again, he grabbed your hand and brought you with him to his room, letting you sit down on his bed.

“As much as you seemed to like the couch, I think my bed is probably a lot more comfortable and you won’t have to deal with any discomfort from sleeping on a couch when you wake up tomorrow,” he explained, his lips pulling into that kind, tight lipped smile that he tended to get when he was in some way nervous about what he’s said or done.

You hummed, flopping over onto his bed and yawning slightly, “Thank you.”

As he slipped into the bed beside you, you relaxed against him once more. If it was anyone else, you would have felt a strange sleeping in their bed entirely platonically, but with Spencer you simply felt like you did as a child, back when you’d fall asleep against his shoulder during class or recess. Had you been any less inebriated, or even put more than two seconds of thought into it, you also would have realised that Spencer, the most germ averse person you’d ever met, was letting you sleep in his bed in the clothes you had been sitting on the street in after drinking your mind away, and letting you touch him while doing it. But in the moment, you were only focused on the comfort of his slender hands holding you, the soft sheets he had draped over you both, and the enveloping darkness surrounding you once the light was clicked off.

…

Spencer held you as you slept for a long time, reminded vividly of your shared past as he did so. It was all so painfully familiar he almost didn’t care about the stench of alcohol and cigarettes that clung to your hair and clothes.

Almost.

But he could hardly care, not when you looked so peaceful with him, not when you had asked him so sweetly to stay with you. So instead he simply observed you as though if he didn’t memorise each detail of your sleeping face it would be gone from his mind as soon as he looked away. Logically he knew that couldn’t happen, not with an eidetic memory like his, but he still wanted to keep all the ways your face had changed and all the little ways it stayed the same ingrained in his brain. He gently traced the slope of your nose, which, while similar, was a bit out of place as though it had once been broken. His pale fingers moved over your cheekbones which sat the same, if not more defined with age. Spencer continued to deftly trace each and every feature, lingering where he noticed small differences he wanted to commit to memory, like the lines beneath your eyes that had been exacerbated by years of poor sleep, or the small valley between your brows where your eyebrows spent so much time furrowed together.

For once though, in the time you’ve been together, you looked peaceful. Truly peaceful. Your features softened with sleep and the comfort you had so clearly been denied. In all your efforts to lie and seem put together, you could never fool him. Not even because he was a profiler, though that did play a part, he just remembered your tells from your youth, all the little behaviours he knew like he knew his own mind. It was clear the years had not been kind to you, even if your self destructive habits hadn’t already tipped that off to him. There was a level of hurt behind your eyes that couldn’t be kept back with the walls you so carefully built up, and Spencer knew you’d need to confront it before you broke. He just needed to know how.

However, that was for another night. Now, all he was to do was hold you close and keep you safe.

…………………

Unsurprisingly, you woke up feeling like absolute shit. Your head felt like it was being split in two, and the obnoxious city sounds and the incredibly strong scent of coffee did very little to help with that. As you reluctantly opened your eyes to the morning light, you noticed the glass of water and aspirin set aside for you on the cluttered bedside table. It took a moment, but as you glanced around the cozy, organized chaos of the room, you became vaguely aware that Spencer had taken you home from the bar. Sitting up with a groan of discontent, you took the aspirin and water and swallowed it down quickly before standing up from the bed. You ignored the swirling way your head spun as you made your way out of the bedroom with the grace of a drugged rhino. Which then alerted Spencer to the fact you were no longer passed out in his bed.

“Oh!” He exclaimed with far too much energy so early, as he noticed you emerging from the room, “You’re up.”

“Mhm,” you grumbled, voice hoarse with sleep and lingering discomfort, “Thanks for the aspirin. And the water. And the bed. Y’know what? Just- Thank you, Spencer.”

“You’re welcome, of course, I definitely didn’t want you just dealing with a hangover the way you seem to deal with most things. Y’know, without any help or much of any support at all really,” He explained, the pace of his words a bit too quick as he gestured vaguely with his hands.

You scoffed a bit before scrubbing your hand over your face and offering him a small smile, which he returned, albeit a bit awkwardly.

“I can get going now, if you want. I don’t really know what time it is, but you probably have work and I feel like kind of a dick invading like this and making you do all this shit for me. Besides, it’s probably smart for me to get back home, I need to water my plants and probably work on- I dunno, something, I probably have work to do that I can’t think of right now,” You huffed a small, self deprecating laugh.

“Well, if you want to go home, you can definitely leave, I won’t stop you, but I was actually wanting to talk to you about what happened last night, if you would be willing to?” He stammered, that endearing nervousness radiating off him in waves.

For a moment, you debated just up and leaving. You most definitely weren’t looking to delve into why you were getting drunk off your ass on a random night. Or getting into fights. Or going home with random guys just to not be alone. None of that seemed appealing, not while in full tip-top health, and definitely not while hungover. However, Spencer looked so hopeful and so genuinely worried that it tugged at your heartstrings just enough to keep you there. Besides, maybe it would be nice to be vulnerable with someone, and if it had to be anyone, Spencer was the person for that. He was the only person you really had right now. And you really weren’t looking to push him away again.

So you nodded instead, earning a hopeful smile from Spencer.

“I made you some tea,” He offered you a mug, “It’s the closest to what you get at the coffee shop, but I didn’t have the exact same kind of tea.”

“Thank you,” You told him genuinely as you took the mug, the comforting warmth enveloping your hands.

Grabbing his own coffee, Spencer brought you to his couch, setting out coasters for when and if you sat your mug down. Settling into the spot you sat mere hours before, you stared across at his kind brown eyes as he studied you intently. He had on a front of calm, however it was very clearly a front, as his fingers tapped at his mug incessantly.

“Why were you at O’Keefe’s last night?: He asked, trying desperately to not sound like he was interrogating you.

“Getting drunk, I think we went over that last night?”

“Well, yes, obviously,” He chuckled nervously, “But I meant why? I mean, when we first saw each other again you were also getting drunk but that was due to stress from your job, which you told me twice after the fact. So why were you drinking last night?”

“I was, uh, trying to forget some shit.” You sipped your tea gingerly, allowing the hot liquid to calm your nerves and soothe the ache in your head.

“But what? You don’t really seem like the type to drink daily, not that you can always tell, but you don’t show the signs of someone who gets blackout drunk constantly,” Spencer explained.

“I don’t. I just-” You sigh, hesitant to explain, “When I do drink, which is like, once every month or maybe every three or four weeks, I get really drunk. I save it to cash it all out on one night, y’know?”

“Okay,” He nodded.

“Look,” You started after a deep gulp of tea, trying to lay things out as concisely and vaguely as possible, “Yesterday was the anniversary of when I officially left Vegas, and Nevada as a whole, and I haven’t been back since. It doesn’t bring back great memories that I do not want to get into, so I wanted to drink and have a good night with someone and not fall asleep alone and cold because I just really fucking hate that. So I drank, and I was gonna go home with a guy until he started drinking a lot and I was like, hell no, and didn’t.”

Spencer nodded kindly, the most understanding look in his eyes despite the furrow in his brow.

“Why did you get into a fight?”

“Fuck, is this an interrogation?” You muttered without thinking, sipping the tea in an attempt to chase away the hangover migraine that the constant questions were only aggravating.

“What? No, no, of course not, I just want to understand, I don’t want you getting yourself into dangerous situations that you don’t need to be in. And a lot of cases can start a lot like someone young and alone who is inebriated who gets approached by someone charismatic and appealing, and I would very much prefer if you stayed safe and did not end up as a photo in an investigation,” Spencer explained in one breath, setting down his coffee as to not jostle it as his hands moved, “You don’t need to keep telling me, I’m sorry if I was prying too much, it was just extremely worrying for you to call me like that and then to see you drunk and bloody without explanation.”

You sighed, nodding in understanding. Spencer would never intentionally try to piss you off or hurt you in any way, he just worried and wasn’t great at expressing his emotions. He always had been like this.

“No, no, I’m sorry. Shouldn’t’ve snapped. You’ve been way too nice already, I’m sorry,” Your voice was little more than a grumble, but you were genuine as you possibly could be, “I barely remember what started the fight, it started verbally, y’know? And when I wanna be mean I can be a fucking dickhead, so I was yelling at some guy for probably no good reason, I dunno, so he punched me. I hit back, and y’know, fight ensues,” you shrugged, sipping your tea, your fingers itching to grab a cigarette, but no matter how nice it could be, you would never smoke around Spencer when you knew how much he hated it.

“Nothing hurts, right? Or, well, more than it should? I know a split lip can’t be pleasant while talking, but other than that, you’re not in pain?” He asked tentatively, setting his hand between you with seemingly little thought.

You set your hand atop his gently, managing a tight lipped smile as a full one would most definitely make the split lip sting terribly, “I’m okay Spencer, thank you for helping. Just hungover as hell and suffering the consequences of my actions,” You chuckled self deprecatingly, setting down your mostly empty mug.

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure. The water and aspirin helped a lot, so did the tea. I think my best choice is probably to just sleep it off as best I can in a dark room with no other input, y’know?”

Spencer practically beamed at your thanks, and your assurance you were feeling alright, “I understand,” He nodded, “As long as you stay properly hydrated, oh and eat, that’s probably smart,” He added, “It will help a lot.”

“Yeah, this definitely ain’t my first rodeo. You’re sweet, though.”

“I took the day off so you can stay as long as you like. You don’t need to, but getting punched in the face and repeatedly hit cannot have positive effects while paired with a hangover, and I think it might benefit you to not get onto a crowded subway or walk around in a busy street when all of that stimuli will just seem so much worse.”

“I don’t wanna overstep or stay too long. I’m not great at telling when I’m not wanted around,” You explained tensely.

“Then it’s great that I’m too blunt for my own good. If you get to be too much for whatever reason, I’ll let you know,” He smiled, and damn him because that smile was just bordering on teasing to the point that you caught it and understood his schemes to be able to make sure you didn’t get yourself killed or hurt or whatever the hell if you left.

And so you stayed.

…

The day was peaceful and soft and caring and all the good things you wouldn’t accept on most occasions. Spencer let you stay in his room with the curtains pulled and the lights turned out as he kept the rest of the house silent, save for the occasional sounds of pages flipping or footsteps as he went about his day reading and checking in on you. As suspected, you slept most of the day away, only waking when Spencer brought you water, which he was correct that you didn’t drink enough of, and it helped greatly. It was domestic bliss with a man you had known in what felt like an entirely separate life, and yet it felt natural as breathing in practice.

When night fell, he inevitably returned you home, leaving you with a tight but hesitant hug and a promise that you would see each other again soon. As soon as you set foot in your dreary apartment, life only represented by the succulents and plants you forced yourself to care for, you regretted leaving the cozy domesticity of Spencer’s apartment. Where yours was cold, decorated only with necessities and plants, his books and posters and weird art made his home truly feel like a home, rather than a living space.

As you laid in bed, finally having showered and changed into fresh clothes, you found yourself staring at the polaroids hung beside your bed, tracing the details of your younger self’s face with your eyes, and craving desperately the comforting touch of the boy who accompanied you in those photos, who had cared for you for the past few days.

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