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imagining-in-the-margins · 5 years ago

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Here to Misbehave (Pt. 18 | S.R.)

Summary: Reader finds more productive ways to spend her time, including babysitting Henry and volunteering at the local inpatient hospitals.

A/N: That’s my gif so please give credit if you use it 🤗 Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader   Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Oral (female receiving), addiction, relapse, discussions of death/murder, unsub talk, hospitals, inpatient ward Word Count: 13K

MASTERLIST

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The next morning felt strangely similar to the morning of the day we’d gone to the bank. . Waking up in Spencer’s bed and smelling the unmistakable, comforting scent of old book pages and stale coffee. I’d told him when I first came to his place that it reminded me of a library, but it was more like that quiet local hole-in-the-wall bookshop.

It almost felt like that morning, but there was one glaring difference: Spencer wasn’t in the bed.

When I sat up to try and locate him, I was reminded that there are consequences to my actions. My stomach hurt like shit, and I swore I blacked out for a second from the pain. It would pass, though. Considering I had gotten through the night without waking, it clearly wasn’t that bad.

I thankfully managed to get out of bed myself and take the pain medication I kept in my purse. And armed with the knowledge that the pain would subside within the next half hour, I hobbled toward the distant sounds of… vomiting.

Not even bothering to stop yet, I made my way to the kitchen to grab the poor guy a glass of water. It was the least I could do for his comfort considering that I was about to make his headache much, much worse.

Peeking my head through the open door, I frowned at the sight of my boyfriend half asleep on the toilet.

“Hey old man. I brought you some water.”

Finally looking up, not having noticed me until I spoke, Spencer groaned as he backed up to lean against the wall instead of the dirty porcelain. “God, when did I get this old?”

“Hmm. I’m guessing sometime in the past 30 years.” I hummed, joining him on the cold tile floor. The two of us just rested there, his hand reaching out to take mine with a solemn smile.

“You’re cute.” He mumbled.

“I know, thanks.” I joked back, knowing that I really looked like a whole mess, with my hair desperately needing to be brushed. He never seemed to mind, though. I was glad for the lighthearted domesticity of the moment, because I knew I was about to shatter it like a brick through glass.

Softening my features as much as possible with the anxiety coursing through my veins, I squeezed his hand before finally whispering, “You know your age isn’t the only reason you’re sick though, right?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He snapped back with about as much hostility as I was expecting. He ran a frustrated hand over his face, his breathing picking up almost immediately as he tried to calm himself down.

“I know you’re just trying to do what you’re supposed to, but please…” The waver in his voice broke my heart and turned my stomach to knots. With more force, he held his hand in the air and continued to stare straight ahead. “Just... don’t. I’ll call my sponsor.”

I tried to keep my voice quiet and nonthreatening as I pushed, but I knew that it wasn’t going to make much of a difference either way.

“We have to talk about it, too, Spencer.”

“No, we really don’t.”

“You’re going to get your chip taken away,” my voice broke in half as the word fell from my mouth, “I know that that’s important to you. We can’t ignore it.”

Speaking faster, our urgent pleas overlapped to create a small cacophony booming through the acoustics of the bathroom. “(Y/n), seriously, stop. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

A silence fell between us, and I let it sit there for a minute. I wouldn’t get anywhere with him if he was defensive, and that’s exactly what he was at the moment. But I wasn’t trying to chastise him; I’m not his mother, I’m just his worried girlfriend. I loved him and I knew something was wrong, and I just wanted to help.

I didn’t know how. The men I loved never made it far enough for me to be able to help.

“You didn’t even tell me you were coming home. We need to talk about that, at least.” I offered the narrowed scope, hoping that he would take it without any more of a fight.

He didn’t. Instead, he took back his hand and turned it to a fist in his lap. That time it was my breathing that became unsteady, and I tried to touch him, but he recoiled when I came too close.

“You didn’t seem to mind me being drunk last night.”

Although I knew it was coming, the words hurt just the same. I resisted the urge to mirror his actions. I wasn’t angry. I wouldn’t be angry, because that’s what he wanted. If I reacted that way, he could write off my responses.

“I’m not going to agitate you or shame you when the damage is already done, Spencer.” I said as confidently as I could, “I knew you needed affection and you weren’t going to ask for it yourself.”

He finally looked at me again, and in doing so, realized he was making a mistake. The anger melted from his face within seconds, being replaced with overt sadness and guilt. “I could have hurt you.” He whispered through the tears that started to fall.

“But you didn’t.” I said with a gentle smile, reaching over to wipe the saltwater from his cheek. “That’s not a very good excuse anymore.”

“It’s always a good explanation.” He clarified, chewing on his bottom lip. His hands released from their tense state.

My fingers couldn’t move fast enough to clear his tears, but he brought his own hands up to rub the tired eyes. I used the freedom to run my hands through his hair, pulling him closer to me.

Resting his head against my shoulder, he let out a deep, shaky breath. I continued slow, soft strokes along his arm, listening to the rhythm of his breath slowly recalibrate. Once I was satisfied with the pattern, I tried again.

“What happened on the case, Spencer?”

The tension returned, but subsided quicker than it had before. He took a deep breath and spoke through the exhale, trying to rid himself of the thought as he said it.

“We had to kill someone.”

My movements paused for a second before I reminded myself to continue, but my confusion remained. “I understand trauma is complicated but… You guys have to do that pretty often.”

Spencer wasn’t the kind of person who liked to share his thoughts. I knew as much; even his coworkers hadn’t seen the parts of him that I’d seen. There was no way for me to know if I knew them all, but I figured that I didn’t. I was almost certain there was a side of Spencer Reid that even I didn’t know. The only reason I didn’t try to figure it out was because I knew he liked it better that way. He designed his heart that way for a reason, and I wasn’t going to try and pry it out of him.

But he was scaring me. He almost never talked about his job, which didn’t bother me when it was obvious that he didn’t bring it home with him. Him getting drunk and defensive, though, were very different circumstances than the usual.

Understanding that there was no other way out of this, he continued to talk, hushed and slow. “I was alone with the guy, and I had the opportunity to kill him, but I didn’t. I didn’t kill him, even though I really wanted to.”

‘I really wanted to.’ The words stuck out in my head, no matter how quickly he tried to bury them.

“But after Hotch showed up, he had to do it. We didn’t have a choice anymore.” His arms crossed over his chest, but he pressed himself harder against me in a strange, contradictory stance.

I couldn’t respond to the most important part of his confession just yet; I knew the story wasn’t over. Like I’d told him, trauma and grief are complicated; however, there was something else he needed to admit before I could address the part of his admission he seemed most affected by.. “Spencer, that’s okay. That’s not your fault.” I reassured, trying to coax his arms away from his chest. I’m no profiler, but I felt like if he stopped trying to build walls, things might be easier. I could at least try to break down the ones that were tangible.

“I’m not worried about it being my fault. I’m worried about how… angry I am.” He said in defeat, dropping his arms back to his lap. He still didn’t want to touch me, it seemed. Like the same hands that had wielded a gun against a man were too tainted to share.

“I’m angry because… I wanted to kill him, I wanted him to suffer for hurting innocent people and —“ He covered his mouth, and I think the motion surprised himself.

I couldn’t help but feel partially responsible, no matter how illogical I knew that was. It felt like yet another morning was being taken away from us by what had happened before. I didn’t want to think about it; I didn’t want it to torture Spencer the way it did me. It was wishful thinking, and the stupid kind, at that.

Spencer would always blame himself and care too much. While he was always trying to work on the former, I hoped that the world would let him keep the latter. His compassion was one of the many reasons I fell in love with him. The thought of losing the man who felt the need to confess to me that he’d lied about checking me out in a crowded club invoked a sadness I never wanted to experience.

Although, the prospect of that loss paled in comparison to the acute sorrow I was feeling right then, holding Spencer while he failed to hold back tears, choking on his words. “I didn’t do it, and then he almost hurt someone else.” He said, his voice growing more frantic as he broke from my hold, grabbing his hair and pulling it like it would do something to stop the thoughts.

“And I’m angry that I wasn’t the one who got to do it. I wasn’t the person who got to kill him.” He spat, rocking forward as I tried to wrap my arms around him again. He didn’t let me, putting an arm out to hold me away from him. Still, he looked at me when he forced himself to say the conclusion that I’d reached the second he told me he had wanted to kill someone.

“I’m angry that I didn’t kill someone, (y/n).”

There were so many things I wanted to say to him that my mind literally couldn’t pick any of them. All I could do was stare at the man I loved, stopping me from doing the only thing I wanted to do. I just wanted to hold him; to remind him that I would love him no matter what. Just like we always did, I wanted my body to express the things that my mouth wouldn’t articulate.

But apparently, I was capable of doing that without even touching him. Because the longer we sat in silence, the more his enraged grimace warped to a frown. “Please, don’t look at me like that.” He begged, unable to take his eyes off of mine. I wondered if he could hear my thoughts, because before I even spoke, he pulled his arm back. “Don’t look at me like I deserve sympathy for that.”

Ignoring the pesky numbness forming in my lower half at the awkward position on the unforgiving tile floor, I thanked the lord that I was finally getting some relief from the narcotics, which allowed me to climb on Spencer’s lap. He’d finally ceased his valiant efforts to keep me away from him, accepting me with his hands on my hips.

When I tried to kiss him, however, he turned his face away with a sharp inhale. Careful not to use too much force, I use a tender hand on his cheek to lead him back to me. His eyes bounced between my lips and eyes, almost like he was asking me to try again.

“I’m not going to pretend you’re a monster to make you feel better, Spencer.” I whispered, attempting to infuse the words with everything I felt.

Whether it worked or not, I could never be sure, but Spencer’s small smile sneaking over his cheek was enough for me. “I’m pretty sure it’d make me feel worse.” He croaked, laughing as he bit his tongue to stop any other jokes from slipping out. Like he was betraying the pain by letting it go.

“Well I’m not going to do that, either.” I returned with a laugh. Then, satisfied that he would accept my affections, I closed the gap between us. The kiss was so soft I could almost question whether our lips touched. But his hands slid over my lower back, his arms wrapping around me and pulling me against him.

Eventually, it became obvious just how tired the both of us were. With a quiet thanks, he rested his face on my shoulder, enjoying the calm after the storm of his feelings that he’d finally released.

“Can you come back to bed?” I asked.

“Yeah.” He mumbled, holding tighter for a second before he started to help ease me off his lap. “Let’s go, little girl.”

The return to my nickname made me happier than I’d like to admit. At this point, the use of my real name was like a litmus test for his anxiety. And although I could feel Spencer slowly opening back up to me, he still felt so far away when we crawled under the covers.

Turning on my side to face him, I saw something in his eyes that alerted me to just how deeply rooted this problem was. It wasn’t just the event we’d discussed; it was the knowledge that there would be many more like it in the future.

I wondered what Spencer saw when he looked at me. Did he see me like I was in that moment, or was I always going to look like I had before, choking on blood and a confession I wish I could have made more beautiful? Did he see me at all? Or did he just see all the mistakes he’d made? Would all our moments together be marred by the overwhelming tragedy of a single one? More than anything, I just hoped that he didn’t see the faces of the people who had caused us to be in that horrible tableau. I needed Spencer to see beautiful things when he looked at me, because I needed to see them in his eyes. If something so ugly was the biggest thing between us, our relationship would fray with time, each of us unable to truly see the other.

“You’re the best man I’ve ever known.” I said into the silent early morning air of his apartment.

As expected, Spencer’s precarious smile broke almost immediately, replaced with violent sobs and an attempt to hide his face from me by burying it in my chest. I let him, wrapping my arms around his head in the hope that I could act like a shield for the world that never let him rest.

“I’ll love you forever,” I let my voice break, but I didn’t let that stop me. “And nothing will ever change that.”

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One of the things people never warn you about when you’re dating a bona fide genius is that there is no such thing as a surprise. It was like every time I came up with an idea, Spencer could see it on my face within seconds. I was never really sure how he did it, although he usually had the decency to wait until a normal person would have figured it out to say something. For example, when we were about three streets away from his best friend’s house.

“Why are we going to JJ’s house?” He finally asked, turning to me with a confused but excited expression that almost hid the residual negative feelings that insisted on sticking around a week later.

I glanced over at him, laughing at the way his fingers bounced on his lap. He never was subtle with his emotions. “I may or may not have offered us up as babysitters so she and Will could have a much needed date night.”

From the way his shoulders dropped, I could tell it wasn’t the answer he’d been expecting. Still, it didn’t seem like he was disappointed— he was simply trying to read my motivations that were seemingly counter-intuitive.

“Really? Isn’t that gonna be a lot for you?” The concern was evident in his voice, which I found both endearing and a little annoying. It wasn’t this fault, really. I was just so freaking tired of not being able to do basically anything I wanted to. Especially when the thing I wanted to do was watch my boyfriend and his godson.

“Henry may be well behaved, but he’s still a toddler.” Spencer continued, eliciting a deep sigh from me.

“That’s why you’re here.” I half-joked, pulling into the driveway that was starting to feel familiar. If someone had told me a few months ago that I would become friends with the woman I was angrily binge watching clips of on YouTube, I would have asked them if they had me confused for another girl. But, much to Spencer’s delight, JJ and I never really had that awkward phase. From the second that I met her, I knew that we just wanted the same thing: above all, for the people we loved to be happy. And it seemed we both had a soft spot for the man currently in my passenger seat.

“Oh, running after the kid is my job?” He laughed, already unbuckling his seatbelt and pulling his bag onto his lap in his excitement.

“Yep.” I stuck out my tongue at him, which only made him lean over in an attempt to steal a kiss. I allowed it, if only to bring him within arm’s reach. When he started to pull away, clearly ready to hop out of the car and run to his favorite toddler, I grabbed a fistful of his cardigan in an attempt to keep him closer for a second longer.

“But seriously, Spencer, I…”

He settled into his seat, immediately recognizing the faint tremor in my words. His hand came to rest over mine, and I sighed at the warmth that filled my whole body in seconds.

“I want you to remember that you’re a good person.” I whispered, trying to let him feel how deeply I meant the words, “I know how much you love Henry. I think spending time taking care of someone that’s… not me… will be good for you. And me.”

Those big brown eyes glassed over, glancing down and then away from me as he remembered looking at my stomach didn’t ever do much for his self-hatred. Which, in turn, just made me feel worse. I wondered if there would ever be a day where he could look at me and not feel that way. I desperately hoped that there would be.

Spencer rubbed his eyes to stop any other emotions from spilling out. “Does JJ know we’re using her kid as therapy?” He joked between sniffles.

“She’s a smart lady.” I shrugged, smoothing out the now wrinkled cardigan beneath my fingers. “Besides, Henry said he missed you and it’s hard to say no to him.”

And just like that, Spencer’s bouncing returned, his hand reaching behind him to open the door before he could even open his mouth to speak. “Yeah, we probably shouldn’t keep him waiting, then.”

There was no stopping him at that point, and I trailed along behind him, watching as Henry tumbled out of the front door and straight into my boyfriend’s waiting arms on the porch.

The rest of the night went a lot like that, too. Once the novelty of having me there wore off, and Henry realized that my boo-boo made it hard for me to play the way little boys liked to, Spencer returned to his rightful place as Henry’s favorite babysitter.

I didn’t mind; I was perfectly content watching the two of them. Between the cheesy magic tricks that required a little bit of childlike innocence to be entertained by and Spencer’s attempts to follow along with Henry’s excited rants about cartoons my boyfriend had never even heard of, I somehow fell even more in love with the man.

And even though I had planned this for him, it was restorative for me, too. There was this weird, paradoxical guilt you feel when you’re dating someone like him. Although I know that he wanted to spend every waking second of his free time with me, it made me feel like he was missing out on something else. Something better than me.

It was so easy to forget that we could do those things together. In a way, I could thank my injury for that. When we were limited so much on what we could do together, we had to find creative ways to spend time together that were still stimulating for the both of us.

That being said, in that moment I wished for nothing more than rest. Even just watching the two boys together was exhausting, so when Henry’s first yawn sounded, I jumped at the opportunity. Because, see, Spencer was good at the playing, but I was much better at the cuddling.

It wasn’t like he could argue, either, because while Henry curled up next to me on one side, Spencer was on the other, his arm reaching around to rest on the young boy’s back. Despite picking out the movie, Henry fell asleep against my chest within minutes.

And in the quiet calmness of JJ’s house, I found myself almost falling asleep, too. My head rested against Spencer’s shoulder, moving ever so slightly with each deep breath as my eyes struggled to stay open. That was when Spencer kissed the top of my head so delicately that I almost didn’t feel it.

“I love you, little girl.”

My heart skipped a beat at the sound, and the wave of goosebumps and satisfaction covered me like a blanket. If we’d stayed for even a few minutes longer, I would have fallen asleep right there. However, JJ and Will arrived home just in the nick of time. They tried to convince us to stay, but Spencer seemed uncharacteristically excited to leave, so I didn’t question it even though I wanted to. I took the trip home to catch up on my phone and try to wake myself up enough to spend another hour or so awake with him before I passed out.

“Don’t fall asleep yet.”

I perked up in my seat, not entirely sure if he’d actually said the words, or if I’d just imagined them a little too vividly. But when he glanced over at me, I knew that he was just doing that slightly unsettling thing where he read my thoughts.

“Why? You got plans?” I said through a yawn, trying to stretch within the confines of the car.

“As a matter of fact, I do have plans.”

At first, I thought nothing of the smug way he said it— up until I felt his hand slowly slide up my thigh, the pressure of his fingers increasing when he couldn’t go any further.

“This feels familiar.” I chuckled, my mind transporting me back to our first not-a-date. The sensations caused a desire to burn through me so quickly I became lightheaded, my lungs hungry and desperate as Spencer continued to tease me by avoiding the one place he knew I wanted him to touch.

But, of course, just as I reached down to move his hand, he pulled it away altogether.

“Lucky for you, we’re almost home.”

I audibly groaned, knocking my head back against the seat now that Spencer had succeeded in waking me up. “Sometimes, Spencer…” I mumbled, “I remember why I have to be such a fucking brat.”

“It’s my fault, is it?”

There was a distinct darkness and deviancy in his words, despite the joking cadence they were uttered in. It was a voice I hadn’t heard in some time; a voice that was imprinted so vividly in my memory that even just the thought of it would make me putty in his hands. And I knew that I was reminiscing a lot, trying to relive times that had long since passed, but every time I saw a part of the old Spencer — the Spencer who rambled in museums and demanded I cover up my Lolita costume — the more I felt like my life was finally returning to normal.

“Of course it’s your fault. Have you seen me?” I gestured to myself, swamped in a sweatshirt and shorts like a weather-confused idiot. If the clashing clothing wasn’t enough, my make up had smeared from constantly rubbing my eyes. “I’m an angel.” I concluded, intending it to be sarcastic but knowing that he really saw me that way.

And sure enough, Spencer looked me over for just one second before pulling into the parking lot to his apartment complex. “You’re spoiled.” He decided.

“Doesn’t feel that way right now.” I whined, chewing on my bottom lip as I continued to wait for his attention.

But he just parked my car, leaning over to grab his bag from between my legs. Before it got too far, though, I clamped my legs around the leather. “Stop ignoring me!” I said through a pout, only getting more heated as he chuckled in response, tugging on the satchel until it slid from between my legs.

Finally, after what felt like forever, Spencer’s eyes locked with mine, his other hand grabbing my chin and forcing my bottom lip out from between my teeth. He held my mouth open against my resistance, but as soon as I gave into his hold, he relaxed his grip, leaning forward and pressing a much-too-soft kiss against my lips.

Without even fully breaking away, he turned my head to the side to whisper in my ear, “Get inside and I’ll make it up to you.”

Life was returning to normal. Together we excitedly stumbled through the Langham apartment complex until we got to his door, and he fumbled to unlock it without letting me go.

Everything about the chaos felt comfortable and predictable. I didn’t even notice the dull throbbing in my stomach because Spencer’s hands felt like home. The insistent noise of all my messy insecurities was quieted by his lips trailing down my jaw and neck as we finally crossed the threshold.

“Watching you with Henry, I just...” Spencer began to mumble against my neck, our bodies gravitating toward his room with a complete lack of grace, considering how well I should know the layout by now. We made it to the door, but not his bed, as he pressed me against the wall right on the other side.

His lips were slightly swollen from how feverishly he’d kissed me, his breathing ragged and his hair wild from where my hands had raked through it a few too many times. But his eyes were what really caught my attention, staring into me so deeply that it caused a shiver to roll down my spine. Spencer sensed my hesitance, because he brought a gentle hand to my face before he spoke, quietly but surely.

“I want to marry you one day. You know that, right?”

I thought about before; how those words would have filled me with both a naive joy and overwhelming anxiety. But as I stood there, staring back at him, I felt a genuine smile spreading across my lips.

“We speak in a lot of ‘one days,’ Dr. Reid.”

I couldn’t tell the effect the words had on him, although I had a few guesses. I’d avoided the part of the sentence he’d meant for me to hear the loudest. We both knew I’d heard it. At the same time, I hadn’t denied the idea or given any reason to suggest I wasn’t happy about the statement.

“I’m serious.” He insisted, not ready to drop the subject just yet.

Unfortunately for him, though, I had other plans. As much as the talk of marriage gave me butterflies, there were more immediate needs I wanted him to fulfill. So, without saying anything, I subtly suggested that he put off the conversation and switch to other activities with a firm hand against the bulge that had already formed in his pants.

“God, I want to fuck you.” He immediately groaned, his head lolling forward and resting against mine. I figured that it would be harder to convince him to fuck me now that he wasn’t drunk, but he seemed even more willing now that we’d already made the leap of faith once. Nothing bad had happened to me then, and the dramatic improvement of my mood was helpful for both of us.

So I began to slide down the wall, my hands raking down his chest as I giggled, “Let me help you.”

Spencer’s hands moved so quickly and with such strength that it surprised the both of us. Luckily, he’d grabbed my hips instead of my stomach, halting me before I could drop to my knees.

“No.” He firmly corrected, lifting me back to my normal height before turning the two of us around so that my back was to the bed. “It’s my turn.”

Much gentler now, he helped lower me onto the bed, but he didn’t follow me yet.

“Take off your clothes.” He instructed me as he removed his own.

I listened, watching him intently to try and determine his plans before he actually got to me. But he kept his expressions to a minimum, only giving away his enthusiasm in watching me sheepishly remove my clothing. My shirt was still on when he climbed onto the bed and over my body.

“I want to see you.” There was something pitiful about the way he uttered the words, and my hands hesitated, holding tightly to the hem of my shirt as I avoided his eyes.

“You have an eidetic memory, Spencer. You know what it looks like.”

“I’ll never stop wanting to see you. You’re so beautiful, (y/n).” He used my name, and my body reacted just as quickly as he realized his mistake. Grabbing my arms before I could close them over me, he brought my wrists against the bed beside my head. “You can leave it on for now.”

What he said provided me all the context I needed to know what he was planning, and I locked my legs around him, hoping that I could stall him for a few moments.

“Please, Spencer. Please fuck me.” I begged, arching my back and baring my neck to him, knowing that he could see my erratic pulse in my neck.

“I can’t. Not yet.” His voice was strained, one hand raised so that his fingers could brush over my neck. “It won’t be much longer.”

Frustrated by his undying desire to take care of me, I used my hand that he’d released to grab a handful of his hair. “I want to feel you inside of me again.” I moaned through the words, my heels digging into his back and bringing his hips down to meet mine. I watched as his eyelids fluttered shut, his breath hitching in his throat.

“I want to see the look on your face when you fill me up.” I continued, bucking up in search of the delicious friction I’d been deprived of for months now. “I know what you’re thinking when you do it.”

“F-fuck.” He struggled to lower his hand to hold my hips down, but I could tell he was scared he would hurt me in the process. It was a dangerous game, to ever put me in this position when neither of us had pants on. Spencer’s confidence wavered as he choked on his words, “This isn’t going to work.”

“You can’t think about that if I’m not touching you.”

“Yes, I can.” He responded with no hesitation, his eyebrows raising in a challenge.

“But isn’t it so much more fun when it’s actually possible?” I cooed.

“It’s always possible, it’s just so unlikel— Fuck!” Spencer cut off by his own gasp when I finally succeeded in pulling him against my heat.

The noise that I gave was something between a sigh and a moan, and I swore I saw Spencer’s pupils dilate in response. There were just some things he couldn’t hide, no matter how hard he tried. But my satisfaction was short lived, and Spencer sat up on his knees to place a manageable distance between us.

“We’re not doing this.” He growled through clenched teeth, his nails raking over my thighs before he removed them entirely. “Stop being a greedy fucking brat and spread your legs.”

I waited a second, hoping that Spencer would get impatient and force my legs open himself. But he flashed me a look, warning me that if I didn’t behave, he could very easily just send me to bed without any satisfaction. And as much as I wanted to call his bluff, the idea of going to bed without getting to touch him was so upsetting.

So, I slowly dropped my legs open, running my hands over the skin still burning from where his hands had touched me. And even slower, Spencer lowered himself until his face rested against my thigh, the scruff of his cheek causing a shiver to run up my body.

“Don’t tell me that a few months of me pampering you has undone all of my hard work.” He murmured so softly I almost didn’t hear it.

But the fact that I did was evidenced by my laugh. “That would imply you’ve actually accomplished something to undo, but I’m just as bratty as the day you met me, Dr. Reid.”

He smiled, his eyes focusing on my face as I continued to giggle, now urged on by the way his breath tickled my inner thigh. “Is that right?” He said in that familiar cocky voice. “Because I happen to recall that the first time that I did this, you tried to stop me.”

The blood rushed to my cheeks as my mind replayed the memory of his smirk from when he had held my legs open for him.

‘You’re not broken, little girl. Promise.’ Just the thought of the words was enough to cloud my mind, but I was dedicated to besting him in this exchange. If he was going to be arrogant, then I would give him the best challenge I could.

“Would you rather I fought you?” I asked, beginning to pull my legs shut before he grabbed them and pulled them over his shoulders.

“No. The instructions for tonight should be very easy to follow; even for you.”

I was trying to pay attention, but it was getting harder the closer he came to actually fucking doing something. It was so obvious that he was getting off on the way my eyes were barely able to stay open, my chest moving with each half-sob that came when he would lay a kiss against my hips.

“What are they?” I slurred, grabbing handfuls of the sheets to prevent myself from forcing him against me.

It was clearly the exact question he was waiting for, a devilish smirk stretching over his cheeks as he dragged his lips down to where I wanted them, moving them against my skin to say, “Stay still, and don’t be quiet.”

While I appreciated the instruction, I feared that it was in vain. Because when Spencer finally flattened his tongue against me, I couldn’t have stopped myself from immediately crying out if I tried.

My hands retained their death grip on the sheets, partially making up for the fact that my body immediately disobeyed his command to stay still. But I couldn’t help it; the long strokes of his tongue up and down my sex felt like pure bliss. And honestly, it wasn’t even just the physical sensations. It was just the knowledge that we were back where we should be; shamelessly indulging in our need for each other without inhibitions. Spencer was clearly enjoying himself, his hands struggling to gently hold me down while he devoured me like a man starved.

I couldn’t look at him, my head bent so far back I could see the headboard. His name fell from my mouth like a mantra, my hips rolling against each motion of his tongue.

“I missed you.” I cried, my legs once again locking around him, my heels on his back as I wished I could pull him closer. “I missed this so badly, Spencer.”

He couldn’t really answer, although I think the moan that he gave was meant to be a response. The vibrations almost sent me over the edge, but right before they could, he pulled back ever so slightly.

I glanced down to figure out why, and was met with his eyes watching me intently, analyzing every response I was giving him; memorizing the way my body shook with need after just a few weeks in his absence.

“Please, don’t stop.” I begged, not caring how pathetic the words sounded when they broke in my throat.

“Oh, I’m not.” He mumbled against me, raising his lips to close around the bundle of nerves at my crest.

At first, I just sighed, appreciating the soft flicks and swirls of his tongue that would eventually build up another release. But it was when I closed my eyes that he revealed his plan.

Without any warning, I felt his finger slip between my folds, thrusting into me with one fluid motion as my wanton moans filled the room. He didn’t let them distract him, his mouth intent on the rhythm it had set, and his hand insistently working to match it.

There was nothing comprehensible in the noises I made, and neither of us seemed to mind. Spencer was only urged on, quickly adding a second finger in his ruthless pace that finally forced me to release the wrinkled sheets in my hands. Instead, they wound through his hair, pulling me against him as I chased my release.

“Please.” I whined, hoping that he would know what I was asking for. Because I didn’t even know what I was asking for— just that he could give it to me.

And sure enough, he did, his fingers beginning to curl inside of me with each motion. I used all of the energy I could muster had to keep my hips relatively still, although they were still trembling with the tension spreading through my muscles that tightened around him.

I wanted to call out his name, to give him the praise and recognition he deserved, but my tongue was tied in the haze of pleasure that overtook me. I could barely breathe, my mind transported to some alternate universe where there was only Spencer and myself. There was no point in identifying where we diverged, because he felt so much like a part of me in that moment, I could never separate from him again.

My walls fluttered around his fingers that still pumped into me with the same vigor. His tongue continued to circle my clit while he gently sucked, clearly lost in his own form of pleasure from the activity.

I wished I could touch him more. I wanted to drag him up to my lips, turn him onto his back and ride him until my legs gave out. But I couldn’t; my body tired and no longer used to the energy we once made a habit of spending on each other on any given day. It had used that energy to dull the pain so I could enjoy the relatively tame experience we had just shared.

As I came down from my orgasm, I was filled with guilt over the fact that I hadn’t so much as touched him once in this entire encounter, and now my hands weren’t even able to keep my grip on his hair as he lifted his head.

Spencer seemed none the wiser about the shame brewing in my head, and he wiped his mouth to reveal a lovesick smile beneath his hand.

“Good girl.” He rasped, crawling up to my side rather than on top of me. With a tender hand, he brushed aside the strands of my hair that stuck to the sweat on my face. “I knew you could behave.”

He sounded so proud of me, which only served to intensify the guilt now pouring from my heart and tainting the rest of what should have been a beautiful memory. I clung to the little bit of light I saw in those toffee eyes.

“How dare you imply I’m ever capable of such a thing.” I chuckled, reaching out to hold him somehow.

He took my hand in his, raising it to his lips for a brief kiss before resting them both against his heart.

“Can I help you?” I sounded drunk from my exhaustion, but hopefully determined enough to convince him I was willing. He didn’t buy it.

“No, go to sleep.”

He leaned forward like he was going to kiss me, but then brought his fingers down over my eyes, brushing over my lids in an attempt to get me to close them. To his credit, it worked, but only for a second before they snapped back open.

“That’s not fair!” I murmured, pulling the sheet over me while I tried to sneak closer to him. I noticed the way he scrutinized my free hand’s movements, ready to stop it from doing too much.

‘It’s gonna be like that, huh?’ I didn’t let it stop me from trying. I didn’t even get to his bellybutton before he snatched my wrist.

“I said no.”

“You know... I could help you without touching you.” I offered instead, pressing my hand against his chest since he wouldn’t let it move any lower. “It’s not the first time we’ve touched ourselves for each other.”

Spencer snorted at the reference, bringing my hands up to his neck, where they happily ran through his now tangled hair.

“That didn’t end well for me last time.”

“I bet you still finished without me.” I teased, my tongue slipping out from my mouth. “Did my pictures come in handy?”

“Like you said— I have an eidetic memory. I don’t need pictures.”

The most noticeable part of his response wasn’t the way his cheeks turned pink, but rather that he didn’t deny that he’d used the pictures. Knowing they were long gone now, considering Penelope’s tendency to snoop too much for her own good, I wondered if that memory was filed away somewhere special in his mind.

“You especially don’t need them when I’m right here.” I purred, tugging him closer by his hair until the gap between us was gone, our lips pressed feverishly against the other.

It was always like that. Like the second we touched, the proverbial dam between us turned to dust. Within a matter of seconds, we’d be so wrapped up in each other that we didn’t care about the wreckage left in our wake.

Spencer didn’t let it get that far, though. He hadn’t in some time.

“You have had enough excitement for one day. I don’t need anything.” He clarified, clearing his throat and acting like I couldn’t feel his erection pressed against my thigh. Still, his next statement was so genuine I couldn’t have argued with it if I tried. “I just wanted to take care of you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

But on the topic of wanting, I knew I felt it more. “I want things to be normal again.” I answered quickly, an urgency blooming in my throat that died when I tried to finish the thought. “I feel so... useless.”

His hand has grabbed my chin before I even noticed its absence on my hip. He held my face towards him, a dark and pained timbre in his voice.

“Don’t ever think that.”

It was a plea. I wanted to give him the relief and assurance he sought, but my gut told me to be honest with him, even if it hurt us.

“It’s just that before, we... did so much more and I’m scared that I won’t...”

Why was it so hard? He was looking at me like he would do anything to stop me from feeling even the slightest discomfort, but I felt like I was suffocating. I didn’t want to disappoint him. I didn’t want him to worry. I wanted to make him as happy as he made me, but...

“I’m scared that I won’t ever be able to do it again.”

He couldn’t tell me that I was wrong. If he tried to make it only about my physical condition, he risked the chance of me telling him I don’t want to do it ever again. Did I feel that way? It was hard to tell; it was too early to tell. But the crushing despair that I felt at the thought of losing that part of our relationship suggested I did not feel that way.

“Hey. Look at me.” Spencer’s voice tore me away from the intrusive thoughts about our inevitable fallout, his hand still holding me in place in front of him, and his eyes still promising me the world.

“Just because we’ve done something before doesn’t mean we ever have to do it again.”

The words felt like the first breath after struggling for air underwater and finally breaking the surface just in the nick of time. Why were they such a relief? I couldn’t figure it out, but was too afraid to ask, fearing how Spencer might take it. Although, the tears pooling at my lashes gave him more than enough to read.

“Tell me you understand.” His request was as gentle as always. After a moment of trying, and failing, to collect myself, I nodded.

He sighed, cautiously moving his palm to cup my cheek. It was his voice that broke then. “I know this is hard, but I need you to use your big girl words for this. I need to make sure you hear me.”

“I understand.” My throat ached as I forced the words out. I could tell he wasn’t convinced but knew any argument would be meaningless while we were both so tired.

“Thank you.” He said, anyway. And like the prettiest sounding broken record, he let his fingertips trail over any exposed area he could find as he spoke the same words I’d heard before, even more insistent. “Even if you never touched me again, just knowing that you’re alive and happy... That alone makes the happiest man in the world.”

Spencer’s lips pressed against my forehead, resting there for a little too long. From the uneven shake of his breath, I knew he was hiding something, but didn’t want to ask what. I suspected they were tears.

I had disappointed him again. I had hurt him, yet again. I hadn’t meant to.

“It’s all that I need. To know that you’re happy.” There was an implicit message hiding in those words.

He was saying he wanted me to be happy, consciously neglecting to voice the resigned addition, ‘even if it’s not with me.’

“I know.” I whispered, half asleep as he continued drawing patterns on my skin. I meant to tell him that he was the only man who’d ever made me feel truly happy, safe, and loved— the only one I trusted with my heart. But all that came out was a simple, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” He said back, leaving me to wonder if he’d heard what I meant.

—————————————————

After everything I’d been through, I’d sworn that I would never want to be in a hospital ever again. But, unfortunately for me, it seemed my stubbornness extended even to my own limits, which explained why I was currently walking through the doors of the residential inpatient ward. It was a good idea in theory, to volunteer in the last place I wanted to be so that I could grow used to being there again.

It didn’t have to be a scary place.

Especially since the people around me weren’t the typical hospital patients. In fact, the people there weren’t even the usual patients of the hospital. Apparently, the ward was hosting a group of traveling patients that had been deemed fit for a vacation to the nation’s capital.

My assignment was simple enough - simply meet with a person and discuss the book they were currently reading. There was no requirement that we had to have read the book before, considering that would leave most people without a partner at all.

I was expecting to meet someone to discuss some niche romance novel or whatever had recently come out in theaters, but as I scanned the list of books, one stuck out to me more than the others.

The Book of Margery Kempe (1501).

It wasn’t the book itself that piqued my interest— I’d never read it. I had, however, listened to Spencer explain the entire premise to me on several occasions. Unsurprisingly, no one else volunteered for the book from the fifteenth century that referred to the main character as “this creature.” No one until me, that is.

There was no questioning who my partner was when I entered the room, spotting her quickly on the outskirts of the room with the book in her hand, but her eyes fixed on the raindrops slowly dripping down the window.

“Hi, are you Diana?”

She jumped a little at the sound of my voice, and I tried not to be consumed by guilt for surprising her despite my best efforts not to.

“Who are you?”

“I’m (y/n). I’m sorry if I scared you. I was assigned to be your book buddy today.” I explained, gesturing to the book on her lap with a smile that wasn’t big enough to be fake. From what the nurses had told me about her, I figured it was best to just be as genuine as possible… which made my answer to her next question a little more difficult.

“You’ve read this book?”

“Actually, I haven’t. No one had.” I laughed, pulling another chair over to her before taking a seat. “But I have heard someone go through basically the entire story in their own words, so...” I never finished the thought, cut off by a slight scoff from the woman.

“I figured. You’re very young.”

“Hey! Young people can read the classics.” I defended, crossing the lower half of my legs and tucking my hands between my knees. It probably gave away some of my nerves, but I figured it was alright considering she wasn’t a profiler and Spencer wasn’t here.

“But you don’t.” She wryly noted.

“Guilty. My boyfriend does, though.” I acquiesced, albeit a bit distracted as my mind decided to focus on those memories rather than the current reality.

“At least you’ve got that exposure. It’s important to learn these things.”

For a second, it felt like I was being lectured by my boyfriend, making it hard not to laugh, which I was pretty sure she didn’t appreciate.

“Can you tell me about it? I want to know if my boyfriend was just making stuff up.” I shrugged, laughing while I found myself avoiding her eyes. She noticed that behavior; most people would.

But to my surprise, she started to explain the book, anyway. Less surprising was the realization that Spencer hadn’t made up any of it. It was clear as day from their similar words that they had definitely read the same book. And if I didn’t know any better, I’d have thought they’d discussed it together, too.

She was more talented than he was at explaining, though. Maybe it was a little bit my fault, considering I always got distracted by his voice. But with her, it really did feel like someone sharing a part of themselves. I could tell how deeply she cared for literature, and it made me more excited to hear about the chaste holy woman that found herself tempted by jealousy and sex.

When her story was winding to an end, I was almost sad that it was over. “You must have been a professor.” I mumbled, having already forgotten the information I was given by the nurses.

She was quick to correct me, her mouth curling into a frown as she said, “I still am. I’m just not on the campus anymore.”

“Of course. Gotta stay sharp, right?” I half-heartedly joked, sitting up from my slouched position. A brief stint of silence stretched between us and glancing at the clock I realized that it would still be a little while until Spencer could come get me. So, I turned back to the woman in front of me, noticing the way she stared out the window as she chewed on her nails.

“Is that why you wanted to visit D.C.?” I wondered aloud, and her response didn’t help assuage that curiosity at all.

“I... have another reason.”

“That sounds very mysterious, Diana.” I giggled, leaning forward and whispering, “Are you secretly a rebel?”

She scoffed, but I detected amusement behind the apparent derision. “Nothing like that.”

As sneaky and vague as she was being, and the fact that I had been warned of her paranoia, I still found myself wanting to ask her what could possibly make her as happy as her current thought.

“So what is it?” I said, leaning back in an effort to seem less insistent, explaining my intentions in a rant reminiscent of my boyfriend. “I don’t mean to pry, I just... you got really happy and I’d love to share in that excitement.”

“That’s just selfish.”

She really was so much like him.

“That’s how you know I won’t judge you.” I pointed out, raising one hand in the air and placing the other on my heart.

“I’m not worried about that.” She just waved her hand at me, ignoring my dramatic gesticulations and sighing as she glanced down at the book once more. After another moment of contemplation, her eyes flicked up to me so quickly I almost missed them, analyzing my features one more time before she carefully said, “I’m here to visit my son.”

“That sounds wonderful.”

Although her expression was anxious, she still seemed at least a little relieved to have shared her plans with someone.

“He is.” She returned, lightly brushing the back of the book, almost like she was trying to remember something etched on the beveled hardcover. “He’s a good boy. Very bright. He has wonderful adventures. He goes all over the country. He used to tell me everything but... he’s gotten too busy for his mother these past few years.”

As I took in the words, I felt the pain in her voice. My heart wrenched in my chest, imagining how awful it must be to not have a chance to talk to your family. “I’m sure he doesn’t mean to ignore you.” At least, I hoped not. She had so many stories to tell, even in just this short window, I couldn’t imagine anyone would want to avoid her. Then again… I knew it could be hard.

“I know he’s busy. That’s why I wanted to come here. It makes it easier for him.” She was confident in her explanation, and I nodded back with similar gusto.

“Have you talked to him yet?”

“No. I’m going to have them call him today.”

We were both happy then, and I clapped my hands together in front of me to suppress the urge to touch her as I excitedly replied, “I hope you get to see him.”

“Me too,” she agreed, simultaneously hopeful and defeated, before turning back to the window with the same wistfulness as before. “If not, the museums will be nice, too.”

“Hey, if you need a docent, I could always call my boyfriend. He would be so excited to talk to a fellow scholar who could actually follow along.” I excitedly replied, rocking forward in my chair with a goofy grin at the thought. She reminded me enough of him that I figured the two would get along. He’d at least understand what she talked about, unlike me.

“There’s no one that can compare to my son.” She warned, narrowing her eyes and pouting in a way I swore I’d seen before on another face.

“I bet. He does sound a lot like him, though. I bet they’d be friends.” The gears in my brain, rusted and slightly worn, started to turn. “They actually might be... my boyfriend lives near here.”

And that was when it hit me, the obvious conclusion I’d been avoiding for some reason. That creeping, unsettling familiarity wasn’t from coincidence; it was my brain recognizing her as an extension of the man I loved.

“...What’s your son’s name?”

She never got to answer, because no sooner had I finished saying the words thanwe both heard Spencer’s voice from the door behind us.

“Mom?”

The realization crashed into all three of us like a goddamn freight train. And even with my flair for the dramatic, I found my head spinning as I tried to will time to rewind itself.

“Spencer? How did you know I was here?” Diana said through a confused gasp, turning to me to see the equally stunned look on my face.

“I didn’t… I—“

They both turned to me, but I was too busy staring halfway between them, my jaw dropped open and my brain suddenly devoid of any helpful thought.

When it decided to finally be helpful, it was only marginally better. “Well… that makes a lot of sense.” I said with a cringeworthy laugh. When neither of them laughed, and continued to stare at me, I quickly shot up from my chair and waved a shaking hand. “You should talk to your mom. I’ll give you guys a minute.”

I didn’t get very far before Spencer’s hand caught my wrist, his wild eyes wide and insistent as he crackled, “Actually, I need a minute alone with you. If that’s okay.”

I turned to Diana for her permission but found nothing useful. She was also still caught up in the disaster that had just occurred, and turned back to her son who seemed genuinely apologetic.

“Sorry mom, I’ll… I’ll be right back.”

Spencer nearly dragged me out of the room, shutting the door and hiding out of sight of any windows. If he was ready to unleash his pent up anxiety, though, he wasn’t quick enough.

“Spencer, what the shit?!” I whisper-yelled, the sound echoing through the sterile hallway.

My boyfriend didn’t have any answers, his hands raking through his hair as he clearly tried to calm his heart and rapid breath. “I’m sorry I— I didn’t know that she was here! What is she doing here?!”

“Oh my god. Shut up. I’m freaking out. What if she thinks I’m weird?” I rambled back, grabbing my chest once I realized that I was freaking out just was badly as the idiot in front of me. Because seriously, he couldn’t tell me his mom’s name so I wouldn’t be blindsided like this?

Then again, I guess I couldn’t talk.

“What did you say to her?” He whispered back, dragging his hands over his face. He seemed eerily calm while asking, considering just how much we could have gotten into during our conversation. Although, I guess it would have been weird to share the more intimate, embarrassing details with a stranger at a hospital.

“I don’t know! We just talked about you!”

“You talked about me?!”

“Well we didn’t know we were both talking about you!” I said was quietly as possible, which was not quiet at all. Waving my arms between us, I tried to explain the jumbled mess in my head. “She was talking about her son and I was talking about my boyfriend and— Actually, that reminds me.”

“What?”

His answer came in the form of a soft thwack on the back of his head. He jumped, raising his hands to his head in both shock and embarrassment at the public chastisement, despite there being no one around to witness it.

“Call your mother, asshole!”

“Ow?! Don’t hit me!” He whined, and I could tell from the tone that the only damage done was to his ego.

“Stop ignoring your mother! You shouldn’t even be out here!” I reminded him, laying my hands against his chest and beginning to push him back towards the door. “Get back in there!”

Spencer’s hands held onto mine, and for the first time in a while I noticed that they were shaking. The lighthearted panic I’d felt seconds before vanished, replaced with a painful sadness that seemed to bleed from him into my hands.

“I’m not trying to ignore her, I just…” His eyes were struggling to focus, and the crackle in his voice warned me that there was something he was trying to avoid saying. “I can explain… This.”

I didn’t need to hear it.

“Explain what?” I meant the question to be an expression of my feelings, but it seemed to freak him out more. Like I actually expected an answer for why his mother was in a program like this. Like the reason he had kept that from me mattered. I already knew the reason he didn’t tell me— It was pretty obvious.

“Spencer, I don’t care that she’s here. That doesn’t bother me.”

From the faraway look in his eyes, I knew he didn’t really believe me. I couldn’t blame him entirely. The shame was clear on his features. But I also knew that nothing I could say in that moment would make him believe me; it would probably take a long time. That was okay. We had time.

“I’m serious. She’s your mother and you love her, so of course I’m going to like her.” I tried to reassure him anyway, and I noticed the small twitch of his pout that slowly turned into a pitiful smile.

Trying to keep that upward trend, I motioned to my absolutely ridiculous outfit and bedhead before I laughed, “I’m mostly just mortified about the fact that I just met your mother looking like this and acting like a fucking moron.”

Thankfully, Spencer laughed back. His hands gripped mine tighter, and through the tears that stayed perched on his eyes without falling, he croaked, “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. Just… go see your mom. I’ll go hang out in the cafeteria for a minute.” I jumped up on my toes, yanking my hands back only to them around his neck.

His arms caught me like they always did, holding me so tightly against him that I could feel his heartbeat against my chest. I kissed him just as hard, trying to remind him that there was nothing in the world that could ruin the happiness I felt when he held me.

I held his face as the kiss ended, squishing his cheeks together and warping his smile in the process. I was just grateful that it was still there.

“And take your time talking to her, because I am fucking starving.” I instructed. The crisp hospital air on my skin was cold as he left, but inside my chest, butterflies erupted that kept me warm. He gave me one final goofy wave before we went our separate ways again.

As I wandered through the hospital halls, I wondered if he knew how nervous I actually was. I couldn’t tell him yet; he would misinterpret it, regardless of his profiling skills. He would see the anxiety in my interactions with her as my fear over his future mental state instead of what it really was— fear that the other woman he loved wouldn’t approve of me.

There was no sense in worrying about it yet. Diana and I had shared a great time together as far as I could tell, and I would definitely make sure that Spencer spent more time talking to her in the future. So as depressing as the hospital cafeteria could be, it wasn’t so bad that day.

—————————————————

Being alone with Diana was so much different after I’d learned that she was Spencer’s mother. Then again, we weren’t really alone - Spencer was there, he’d just passed out and somehow ended up with his head against the pillow on my lap. I was a little surprised by how comfortable he was being so touchy feely in front of his mother, but I’d also recognized the exhaustion the second he walked into the hospital. He’d been out cold for at least 10 minutes, and I was barely able to stay awake, myself.

Diana seemed wide awake, though, watching the minute rise and fall of Spencer’s shoulder as he slept. At least, I thought that was what she was watching, but it could have also been my hand stroking his arm.

“My son seems very happy.”

I looked up, shaken by the sudden sound after nearly falling asleep to the rhythm of Spencer’s breath against my knee. “I think that has more to do with you being here.” I said through a yawn.

“I’m not so sure.” That was all she said, quiet and skeptical. Her eyes were scrutinizing everything she could see, and I thanked the stars that I didn’t have to go through this without him here, at least. At least we’d had one nice memory together first.

“Are you the reason he’s been so busy?”

I was dreading the question but had already planned my response. “I hope not. His job is so stressful, and he spends so much of his free time taking care of me.” I looked down at the mop of brown hair that hadn’t been brushed.

When I ran my hand through the ends of his curls, he shifted on my lap, his hand coming up to grab my thigh as he buried his face into the pillow. I chuckled at the clingy movements, which poorly contrasted my words.

“It makes me feel awful.”

I expected her to look disappointed or disturbed by the action, but she mostly just looked… sad.

“He’s good at taking care of people.” She explained, her head jerking away to stare at the lamp beside her. “I made him do it too often.”

Her answer hurt me in more ways than one. It hurt me because I felt the guilt and shame in her voice over something that she had no control over, which was obviously something that should never happen. But it also hurt because I heard myself in it, and I had to ask myself if, just like I had found traits of my father in Spencer, he’d found his mother in me.

Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t be ashamed of being like her - she was brilliant and obviously cared for him deeply. It was the source of the shame that frightened me.

Was he just with me to take care of me? How soon would he grow tired of that? What would happen when I got better? Would I ever? Did I even want to, if that meant he would leave?

They were terrible, awful thoughts to have. So, I did what I was best at, and shoved them back into the corner of my mind to revisit when I was desperate and alone.

“I think he would disagree. He obviously loves you very much.” Was what I said, instead.

“I could say the same for you.” There was a slight bitterness in her words that forced a frown out of me. The words were forceful, almost like a compulsion that she wanted to fight but was too tired to win. She seemed to regret that, too.

“I know my son... and I’ve never seen him like this before.” She pointed to him on my lap, still sound asleep despite the conversation happening above him. “I don’t think he’s ever slept that well with me. And…”

Part of me wanted to tell her that it wasn’t always like this. I wanted her to know that it had nothing to do with any failing of her own, but a failing on the part of the rest of the world for hurting him when neither of us had been there. But she probably felt the same guilt I did that we couldn’t fix those broken parts. Her eyes met mine, and in the reflection, I saw both of our apprehension.

“I’ve never felt like a girl was taking my son away from me before.”

The breath wasn’t knocked from me, but it did fall out of me in a slow, shaky exhale. I didn’t know what to say back, terrified by the implication behind the words just as much as the fact she felt them.

“He’ll always be yours first.” I promised her, refusing to look away from her eyes even as she refused to meet them. I needed her to know that I would never be a threat to them. That all I wanted or cared about was that he was happy and safe, and that I knew she felt the same.

“Then he should call me more.” Diana said, wry humor bleeding back into the conversation despite how heavy it had become.

“I’ll make sure he does.” I answered, my hands resuming their gentle soothing motions. I saw her hand mimicking the actions against her blanket and found myself wondering about things I’d never ask her. I knew virtually nothing about his childhood aside from the prodigy thing, but it was clear that his father was not in the picture, and that he was very close with his mother.

I couldn’t blame her for wanting to protect him. Just as I had thought it, she’d said it herself.

“When you’re kind like my son, the world will eat you alive if no one is protecting you.”

Maybe Spencer had gotten that mind reading trait from his mother, rather than his profiler training, I thought.

“Are you going to protect him?”

I wasn’t ready for that question. Honestly, I hadn’t even considered it. In all the time we’d been together, I’d selfishly worried about how any harm to him would affect me. In my defense, it had always seemed the more likely scenario.

I was so worried about being the source of his hurt or not being able to fix it that I never thought about how I could prevent it. It almost felt… inevitable. Everyone who loved me got hurt, and he’d already made up his mind on that topic.

“I’m going to try.” The hesitance in my voice gave away my anxieties, and Diana spoke quicker and bolder.  

“You said he takes care of you, but what do you do for him?”

The walls were closing in on me, and I couldn’t fucking breathe. My hand on Spencer’s arm grabbed his shirt before I noticed. I wanted him to be awake, to hold me and tell me that it would be okay. I wanted to be far away from that conversation— that question.

“I-I…” I mumbled, trying to flatten my hand as his mother saw it, trying to act like I wasn’t a fucking child clinging to her boyfriend to save her from a question she didn’t have a satisfying answer to.

It was too late, and Diana covered her mouth as she looked away. “I see.” She said before we both went silent.

The silence didn’t help either, though. If anything, it felt worse. Like my chest had been torn open and she could see all the contents, and the longer I gave her to draw her own conclusions about what she saw, the worst they would become.

That was stupid, right? I couldn’t tell. She liked me, right? Did it matter?

“He told me he wants to get married and have kids and I’m just...” I started to ramble, my hands now hovering above Spencer as I stared down at him, still sleeping soundly like the world wasn’t crushing me above him. In a panic, I looked up to Diana with what I can only assume was a terrified, frantic look. “I’m worried. I’m scared that he won’t be as happy as he could be if he stays with me instead of... someone else. And that question scares me because I still don’t know why he cares about me so much when I can’t give him half of what he gives me.”

My chest heaved from a combination of the lack of breath and skyrocketing pulse. Diana peered at me through her peripherals, a battle visible behind her gaze.

“Most people would be scared to admit that. Especially to his mother.” She thought out loud, and I knew she was weighing my open admission to determine how likely it was that I was lying.

“I figured lying would be worse. I know honesty is important to your family.” I confessed, hoping that my openness wouldn’t come back to bite me in the ass. “I don’t ever want to lie to either of you.”

I left off the ‘again.’

“You know what I think?” Diana said, tapping her chin and readjusting the blanket over her legs as she found a way to be more comfortable with the tension floating in the air.

I took it as a good sign. I hoped it was a good sign. I looked at her in anticipation.

“I think... you two will be happier than you think.” Diana’s lips curled ever so slightly as she held her own hand, rubbing the back of her hand the same way Spencer often rubbed mine. “Love is more than similar beliefs. It’s wanting to share your life with someone. Wanting to see them happy.”

Despite the content of her words, it didn’t feel like a lecture. It was… warm, and comforting. Her voice sounded familiar and loving and safe. She was the one who had taught Spencer to talk.

“I love my son more than anything else in the world. I won’t let anyone take him away unless I’m positive that he will be happy.” Diana finished; the warning grave but her voice quiet.

“I understand.” I replied just as softly, finally looking back down to Spencer. My heart felt like it would burst from the image. As much as I wanted him to see me and his mother having a heart to heart, it was best not to worry him with our battling affections, no matter how minimal the risk.

“Do you love him?”

The question hung in the air because I was still so caught up in his face that I almost forgot she couldn’t read my mind.

“Yes.” I felt the tears forming in my eyes as I breathlessly repeated, “Yes, I do. I love him.”

Diana must have heard the strain in my voice and seen the tiredness in my eyes, because the threatening tone faded. “Then take care of him.” She said, more like a plea than a demand. “Take care of him like I never could, because you know how much he deserves it.”

I nodded, excitedly and happily, my voice breaking and interrupted by a hard swallow to rid myself of the lump in my throat when I said, “I will.”

With perfect timing, Spencer’s body jerked under my hand as it found its way back to his shoulder. “What are you guys talking about?” He slurred before even opening his eyes, clearly bothered by the lost time wherein his mother and I could have spoken about any number of horrifying things.

“We were just saying it’s time for me to head out.” I lied, and Diana’s sly smirk was enough of an indication for me to feel alright about it. It was funny—I’d just told her I never wanted to lie to him, but this one seemed pretty harmless. She deserved alone time with her son, after all.

“Do you want me to drive you?” He finally sat up, rubbing his face to try and get rid of the creases that had formed from the pillow’s texture.

I laughed at the question because he was so obviously not in a position to drive. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d gotten an Uber after leaving his place, and I was sure it wouldn’t be the last. At least this time wasn’t a walk of shame.

“No, I’m fine. You stay here and spend time with your mom. Awake, this time.” I warned, poking him on the nose and earning a playful giggle from the grown man at my side. “She came a long way. She deserves it.”

He quickly got me back, grabbing my face and pulling me forward to plant a kiss on my forehead. And as much as I would have preferred one on the lips, I was grateful for his sudden modesty in front of his mother. It still felt strange.

“Okay. I love you. Drive safe please. And tell me when you get home.” He instructed as I nodded along, already having memorized the speech from every time I’d ever left him.

“Of course.” I murmured through a somewhat embarrassed pout before I got up and grabbed my things.

Before I made my way to the door, I stopped, turning to see Spencer take the seat beside his mother. She took his hand, but she looked at me. I thought about hugging her but knew that Spencer’s company was far superior to mine, and that every second I distracted her was one less she got with him. So, I settled for a wave and a smile.

“Goodnight Diana. Thanks for the talk.”

“Goodnight.” She returned, with a contented smile washing over her as her son rested his head on her shoulder. The final image of the two of them happy in each other’s company was enough to satisfy me until the next time I saw him. Because, like we’d just discussed, he was happy, and that was all that mattered.

As I opened the door to leave, she spoke again. “Thank you.” She said, and I knew she was talking about more than the conversation.

“Anytime.”

—————————————————

| Part 19 |

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tsukiihime · 4 years ago

Text

Heartbreak (Bakugou x Reader), (Shinsou x Reader) Part 2

The second part to the fic I wrote, this will probably be my last post for another week since I have school to catch up on. Enjoy!

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: Angst, a bit more fluff on Shinsou’s end, drinking

Taglist: @sugarandsoft

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

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It’s three in the morning, and Bakugou can’t sleep.

He’s beyond pissed at himself for staying up this late, but he can’t help it - he’s been in bed since nine and he can’t get you out of his mind. He hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you since you stormed out of the apartment. He regrets not chasing after you, he loathes himself for being such a dick and he hates himself for even letting his stupid agency dictate his personal life. He wants to tell you so bad that you’re wrong, that beating Deku doesn’t mean a damn thing to him if it means he has to lose you. He wants to hear your voice so bad it hurts. He knows you’ll be going to Shinsou - you always do when you have a bad fight. He knows you’ll be safe there, but he feels like such a fool. He let you walk out in the rain on your own. What a hero he turned out to be.

Bakugou spends the night alternating between flipping through the endless channels on the living room TV and staring at the ceiling. Every time he closes his eyes he sees your face - anger boiling your blood, disbelief painting your features as he fights with you, tears staining your cheeks. He feels sick to his stomach imagining you walking in the cold as you leave the apartment, sniffling as you make your way out in the rain. He wants to call you to explain himself.

But he doesn’t. His pride won’t let him.

It’s his pride that makes him trudge out to bars with Denki, Mina, and Sero the next day after you leave - he needs alcohol in his system to numb himself from the thought of you. Anyone will do if it warms his bed and makes your face disappear for even a second. God, he never thought he would be so hung up on you. He downs beer after beer, dances with woman after woman. Names and faces blur together as a cacophony of voices plays in his head.

He ends up taking someone home that night - he couldn’t remember her even if he tried. He takes her back to the apartment you shared and pushes her onto the bed you shared. He kisses her collarbone and up her neck, but he’s aiming for your favorite spots instead of hers. The image of you overlaps with her, and he sees your figure beneath him instead of some stranger. Maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s his broken heart playing tricks on him.

He kisses her, imagining it’s your scent he’s breathing in rather than the vanilla and booze she smells of. He pictures your arms wrapping around his neck, your lips on his. She says his name, like honey on her lips, whispers it into his ear. And if he tries hard enough, he can twist her voice in his head to sound like you.

“Katsuki, I love you.” He hears it over and over, sees your smile and hears your laugh. “Katsuki, I love you.”

He makes her leave after that. She’s upset but he is too - an argument ensures and she storms out, leaving behind her underwear in her hurry to leave.

He doesn’t notice. He’s too busy thinking of you.

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It’s been three weeks since your breakup with Bakugou.

The news stations and gossip websites have been flooded with reports of Camie and Katsuki - neither have said anything about their relationship and the speculation of if they are or aren’t a couple is driving everyone wild. Thankfully, the people who were leaving awful comments have long since left you alone, prompting you to turn your Instagram to private and changing your username so they can’t find you easily.

You’ve been avoiding social media like the plague, ignoring all television interviews that involve either Bakugou or Camie - you’ve learned your lesson from the night of the Hero Rankings. But you’re only human after all, and the one time your curiosity got the better of you, you dove into the comments on a tabloid’s website to see what the public was saying.

It doesn’t escape your notice that the comments are much kinder - it ranges from well wishes to remarks about how they wish they could replace Bakugou or Camie in the relationship. No one mentions you, which you are grateful for. You know the media thrives off of drama and rumors, so you’re content to have been forgotten about in this narrative.

Shinsou’s been treating you like normal - another thing you’re grateful for. He is kind without being overbearing, and he gives you distance while also being there for you when you need it. You’ve migrated from sleeping on the couch to crashing in his bed, and more often than not you fall asleep to the smell of his body wash as you lay on his chest.

You wonder what Bakugou would say if he saw you. He knew how close you and Shinsou were and still are, but anyone could think that you and the purple haired man were lovers. Here you are, getting upset at your ex-boyfriend for having a woman over two days after the breakup, when you are falling asleep in the arms of another man - even if he is your best friend. You wonder if that makes you a hypocrite. Your emotions are in chaos, all jumbled and confused. You miss physical intimacy and a part of you wonders if you’re just using Shinsou as a replacement. “It’s better to sift through these feelings when I’m calmer”, you think to yourself, “I’ll come back to it when I’m in a better place.”

Otherwise, you’ve been steadily making your way back to a normal life - work, school, and your personal life all seem to be peaceful and you’re content in a way you hadn’t been for a long time with Bakugou. Of course, the wounds of the breakup are still healing, but you’re doing a lot better from three weeks ago, when you couldn’t even bring yourself to get out of bed. Shinsou has been making sure that you eat properly and that you take care of yourself. Now that you’re out of that post breakup funk, he notices that you’re cheerful and upbeat - a good sign that you’re slowly recovering from your heartbreak.

Today, you’re home alone while Shinsou patrols the city - he’s promised to pick up dinner on his way home so you don’t have to cook. He’s looking forward to tonight - you’ve finished all of your school work for the weekend and you’re off from work until Monday. He’s eager to come home to you, he’s turned down his coworkers invitations to drink so he can spend the weekend with you. He’s picked up food from your favorite Mexican restaurant, and he’s stopped at the grocery store to get your favorite flavor of ice cream - the one that’s almost always sold out.

He arrives home to see you lazing about the house - you’re laying on your back on the couch, holding your pastel Animal Crossing Edition Switch with a bag of chips resting on the table next to you. Your eyebrows are furrowed together as you focus on beating the shit out of a boss in Cuphead - a game you and Shinsou spent hours playing when it came out trying to pass the incredibly difficult levels. You’re wearing Shinsou’s favorite hoodie again - you might as well claim it as your own already you wear it so much - and your fuzzy cat print socks match with a fluffy cat ear headband that keeps your hair out of your face. Your face is recently washed and slightly pink, and he can smell your favorite coconut body wash from where he’s standing. He waits until you lose the stage (let's face it - there’s no way you’re beating that damn clown boss without his help) and he makes his way over to you, leaning over to look down at you as you exhale in annoyance at your loss.

“Hey there, I got dinner. Also nabbed some dessert for you - ready to watch nothing but ghost stories for the rest of the night?” You stretch out your arms and legs, groaning as you move to stand from the couch.

“Only if you promise to sleep next to me until I see sunlight again.” You hate ghost stories - you can handle scary movies about murderers and clowns but you don’t mess with ghosts. The only reason you’re watching tonight is because you know it’s Shinsou’s favorite and he always watches your nature documentaries even though you know deep down he probably doesn’t enjoy them as much as you do. You saunter over to the kitchen, and prop yourself on the counter facing Shinsou as you pull a taco to your mouth. “Ugh, even though the Exorcist was made like 50 years ago it still gives me the creeps. I can’t believe,” you take a moment to drink some water, “that you can watch her crawl backwards down the stairs and not piss your pants.” Shinsou lowly chuckles, giving a teasing smile as he unwraps his burrito.

“It’s ‘cause I’m not a chicken.” You roll your eyes and snort.

“Whatever Mindjack. Not everyone can be as fearless as you.” He smirks as you swing your legs, turning your full attention to the taco you have in front of you. “Hurry up and finish so we can do a facemask before our movie marathon. You didn’t forget about that did you?”

“‘Course not. You wouldn’t let me forget even if I tried, since you’re such a nagger.” You pout, hopping off the counter to wash your hands. Shinsou spends a bit too much time admiring how small you look wearing his hoodie - enveloped in something that belongs to him makes him swell with pride even if it’s wrong of him to think so. He wonders when he started to feel this way towards you, when his love changed from a close friend to an admirer. When he remembers his life, you are always there with him. By his side like a part of his body, always around when important events pass by, always by his side when the going gets tough. It’s not as if he’s always been pining for you - he’s brought other girlfriends around before even if the romance fizzles out before long - but recently he’s noticed you in a different light. Your bedhead and your sleeping face are just as cute to him as when you have your hair done and makeup on. Bringing other men over was never a problem, you’re his best friend and your happiness was always the first priority. But now, he finds himself annoyed at the mere mention of possible partners. You have no shortage of those - you’ve always been able to draw people to you as nerdy as you are - and the green vines of jealousy wrap around his heart every time someone gives you a gift on Valentine’s Day or someone asks you out for a coffee. You usually turn them down since you have so much to focus on, work and school makes you a busy woman after all. But he can’t help but be irritated at the stares you get in public sometimes - as beautiful as you are, you would think that you’d notice the way others look at you. He’s always loved you, but now he feels this once platonic love changing into pure romance, he aches for you like he’s never had before - longing for your touches, your hugs, your feather light kisses on his forehead when he’s having a tough day. The guilt he feels every time he holds you close like he did when you were kids, when you lay your head on his chest and he plays with your hair. To you, it’s still the action of a best friend, but to him it’s something he’d do for a lover. And yet, you’re oblivious, as dense as a rock but he loves that part too. How infuriatingly adorable you are sometimes.

“‘Toooooshi~”, You wave your hand in his face as he comes back to reality. You raise an eyebrow. “Are you okay?”

“Never better.” Your arms cross as you stare at him, suspicious that he’s hiding something from you.

“You ready? I got everything set up.” He nods, and you turn to walk towards his bedroom.

Shinsou’s room is quite neat, a black bed in the corner next to ceiling to floor windows that gives a pretty good view of the city. He scored a good location in spite of his modest salary - he’s in it for the heroism and the good deeds, not the money. He may not make as much as Bakugou, Todoroki, or Deku, but he does alright. His capture weapon and artificial vocal cords mask rest atop his bookshelf, populated with picture books of you and him in your younger days, as well as a Polaroid camera you left with him when he went off to U.A and you stayed in Saitama. Next to the parts of his Hero costume is a picture of you and him on a trip to the beach - one he treasures above all else. In it, he holds you bridal style as you both smile from ear to ear at the camera. You’re practically glowing, wearing a bright yellow bikini set with a see through beach coverup wrapped around your hips, sunglasses resting atop your head. Shinsou recalls how you nagged him to actually swim with you, and you pretty much forced him to wear those green swim shorts - this picture was before he decided to run with you in his arms to the water.

He sees your presence everywhere he looks in his room. After he reassured you that you weren’t a burden, you’ve basically turned his home into your home as well. The bottom half of his bookshelf is claimed as yours - it’s filled with your favorite stories, and your collection of Switch games is stacked next to the shelf neatly. Your laptop rests on his bed (you were no doubt doing homework before you got distracted and started playing Cuphead before he got home) with your Geology textbook open and notebooks filled with notes and highlighted phrases. Your clothes have been hung up in his closet, with your makeup and perfumes taking over three-fourths of his bathroom counter. If anyone else came to visit, they’d think you two were an item.

But alas, you two are not.

You push your schoolwork and computer aside to make room for you and Hitoshi, making your way towards the bathroom to grab a basket of skin care products and face masks. Shinsou knows how much you care about your skin - and by extension his skin - and he watches as you walk from here to there gathering what you need. You turn to him with a huge grin on your face as you hold up a matching cat headband in the color black, something you picked up from the store before you came home last week. He sighs, but turns around anyways to allow you to pull his lavender hair back into a loose ponytail and place the cat headband on his head before turning back to face you.

He looks so silly wearing it, but for you, he’ll do anything. You grab your phone and open the front camera, sticking your tongue out while grabbing Shinsou’s face, squishing his cheeks as he makes an annoyed face at the camera. After taking the photo, you upload it to your now private Instagram and send the picture to Shinsou who does the same. He’s always been a private man, so you don’t worry about the public getting a hold of the photos and trying to make a story out of your life like with Bakugou.

Tossing your phone aside, you motion for Hitoshi to turn towards you, propping yourself up on your knees in front of him as he sits cross legged. You giggle as he looks back at you, reaching to grab a jar of your favorite moisturizer and opening it. The smell is familiar to him - you always smell like it at night when you watch TV while sitting next to him in the living room. You start to apply the product to his face, careful to keep it out of his eyes and mouth. “You need to take better care of your skin ‘Toshi.”

“I know. I’ve been putting sunscreen on like you’ve asked.” He’s not lying, it’s become a part of his routine ever since you suggested it.

“Good. You better be taking the time to eat properly at work too. I know you’re sleeping normally again since I’ve been here, so I won’t lecture you on that.” You glance at his arms, covered in scattered scars from run ins with villains.

Most people look at heroes as an invincible force, unstoppable like All Might. Others may see Mindjack, but you just see Hitoshi Shinsou, your partner in crime.

“Thank you Hitoshi...for everything.” You blurt it out before you can stop yourself.

“I didn’t know this facemask meant so much to you.” You punch him in the shoulder as he laughs.

“‘Toshi, I’m serious. Look at all you’ve done for me. You let me crash here, listen to me complain, make sure I’m okay...without you, I probably would still be lying in bed all depressed.” You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug. “I have to say it before I never get the chance to. You may be Mindjack, a hero, but you’re still Hitoshi to me. You do so much for me and you put your life on the line for others every day. I watch you and I’m proud of the boy who proved everyone wrong when they said you had a villain’s quirk. You being here for me after everything with Bakugou and always being there for me growing up makes me realize how much you mean to me. You’re my hero, ‘Toshi. But I need you to stay safe. Look at all your scars...” You pull back from the hug and grab his arms, running your fingers over his scarred skin. You’ve always known Shinsou’s job is dangerous - he’s a hero after all, he saves people. But he’s also your best friend. He’s a selfless man, a kind man.

You love Shinsou. You truly do, he is someone you can never lose. To lose him would be to lose a part of you.

He says nothing in response, so you continue. “Remember that time you fought that villain in the subway? All the news stations said that the tunnel was going to collapse and I just felt like my heart was going to burst. I saw you getting trapped and I felt like…”

You trail off, feeling the familiar sting of tears as you hold them back. Hitoshi gazes at you, lilac eyes boring into your own. “I felt like my whole world was ending. When you came out alright I thought I would faint. I was so scared ‘Toshi… scared you wouldn’t come back. I don’t want to lose you.” Shinsou grabs your cheeks, gently moving his hands so you face him. He wipes a tear from your eye.

“I’ll always come back to you.” You close your eyes, and press your forehead to his.

“You better. I’ll be waiting.”

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Bakugou wants to be anywhere else but here.

He’s at Kirishima’s apartment - he’s been dragged out of his house by Mina and Kaminari for a night of drinking, with Sero and Jirou also coming along for the ride. The blonde would rather be in bed, wallowing in his misery, but his friends won’t let him stay inside. So he pouts in the corner, arms crossed and a permanent scowl painting his features. Kirishima gives him a knowing smile, and mouths “I’m sorry”. Bakugou clicks his tongue and looks away, grabbing his phone in order to distract himself from all the noise.

He would rather die than admit it, but he’s been looking for your Instagram ever since you left. You must’ve unfollowed him or even blocked him - he can’t find a trace of you anywhere. He hates this pathetic side of him, one that makes him seem like a stalker, but he has to know you’re okay. If his pride won’t let him call you, then he needs to know you’re okay.

To his surprise, you pop up on his feed. He immediately inspects the photo of you, and breathes a sigh of relief to see your face. Your tongue is sticking out all playful, beaming as you hold Hitoshi’s face for the photo. You’re wearing that cat headband you always use when washing your face, and he can tell you’re almost ready for bed. He smiles solemnly, vermilion eyes staring at you, so far away.

He notices you’re wearing one of Shinsou’s hoodies and his blood boils at the thought - he knows you are friends but he hates the idea of anyone else having you - although he shouldn’t be one to talk after bringing home that girl from the club. He hates himself for doing it. He stares at your face before standing, saying a curt “I’ll be back” before making his way to the balcony. His friend’s voices fade as he stands outside overlooking the city, and he makes sure the coast is clear before dialing your number.

Fuck his pride. He has to hear your voice.

#bnha x fem!reader #bnha x you #shinsou x reader #bakugou x reader #bnha angst #shinsou x you #bakugou x you #katsuki bakugo x y/n #hitoshi shinso x y/n #mha x reader #my writing

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the-darklings · 4 years ago

Text

—𝐭𝐢𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞;

⤫ pairing: johnny silverhand x corp!v(ermillion)

⤫ summary: Usually, they’re a calamity together—destructive and volatile as each other. But right now, just for a second, there is only music and them.

⤫ word count: 2.3k+

⤫ warnings: spoilers for act i & side mission the ballad of buck ravers, third person but can be read as RI ig, swearing, written in one sitting so who knows what the final result is - certainly not me.

⤫ notes: let me leave my clown shoes outside.

It starts out the way it always does.

One ring leads to another and she suddenly finds herself running or driving around the Night City with little to no rest, pulling one job after another. The more jobs she closes the more she seems to be in demand.

Good for business. Good for making a name for herself, too, but not so good on her overall being.

She’s been running. Like a fucking coward. Filing her days with meaningless shit while trying desperately not to think about her ticking clock. About Jackie.

Guilt gnaws on her bones daily. She should have done more, been better, more careful. Jackie never should have died. It was stupid and blind ambition that drove them both to try and pull this near impossible heist in the first place. Her own reckless drive has blinded her, and now the person closest to her in this fucking city is nothing more than a cold corpse.

Fuck.

She should have sent him to his family instead. She only wanted to spare them from the grief of having to see Jackie in the state he was in but now Araska has his body and god knows what those assholes might be doing with it.

And now…

Well she has nothing to lose, does she? She’s already dying, already hunted, her only close friend is dead. She promised to make him proud. Make it to the big leagues or make a league all on her own if that’s what it takes. Bleed this city dry if that’s the price to pay for what she wants.

Back when she worked for Arasaka she wanted knowledge which led to power. Then she wanted guns and money and a roof over her head.

Now she wants something more. After coming face to face with her own fragile morality, she has begun to realise how meaningless things like money and power are. Now she wants to surpass that. To become something immortal—something that will outlive her body. Maybe even outlive this city.

Jackie should have been one of such people.

“You look like you’re about to shit yourself,” a voice drawls from beside her, a crackle filling the air as a too familiar silhouette of a man appears in her sight. “Or cry.”

“Fuck off.”

V turns away from one Johnny Silverhand because it’s hard to look at him and not be reminded of the fact that she’s slowly dying and the construct only she can see and hear is the one doing the deed.

“This self-pitying bullshit needs to stop,” he says, ignoring her vicious words. “We share a brain, remember? I feel what you feel. It’s downright depressing in your head right now.”

Her jaw clicks at the reminder. Everyday she wakes up and feels like they’re linked by a bridge—he stands on one side, and she on another. When they come closer, she can feel it—feel him. The overlap is near dizzying, overwhelming, even a little addictive. But it’s always followed by agony because she fights back, tries to shove him away. If not, he will consume her, but she will get him out of her head before that ever happens.

You share a brain now, Vik had told her only days prior, his eyebrows knitted tight and—albeit subdued—but clear worry in his low voice, senses and memories, even perception. Eventually it will become impossible to tell whose who anymore.

The worst thing is the fact that he’s right.

She can feel Silverhand rooted inside her; a constant, a presence that is persistent to a point she knows she’s not alone even if she wishes to be.

An echo of a being deep inside her.

“Then get the hell out,” she bites back, fighting to keep her temper leashed so she doesn’t burst out at him like she did at the diner. She can still remember the wary stares she received from the diners when she started shouting verbally at a figment only she could perceive in the first place. “I didn’t ask for a parasite to make himself home in my brain.”

Johnny scoffs under his breath, raising a cigarette to his mouth, and she’s nearly overcome with need to remind him that he’s fucking dead, and can’t smoke. That, and the fact that she would prefer him to leave her the fuck alone.

“You did the job, didn’t ya? You sure you didn’t have this comin’?”

Flipping him off, she storms past him, her jaw clenched to appoint it aches and eyes narrowed. Just her luck not only to get stuck with a human tumour but for the said tumour to be a bastard to boot.

So much for being buddies.

Sun has set over Westbrook hours ago yet Chinatown is as busting with life as always. Overflowing with conversations all spoken in different languages, smells, distant gunshots, and people from all walks of life just trying to survive. Even during her years with the Arasaka, she never quite got used to the vastness of the Night City—not even when she was sure she was at the top. The way this city seems to breathe and fester day in and out; a living beast full of dangers and potential is unique.

Lost in the crowd, it’s almost easy to forget who she is aside from another face in the said crowd. She’s not a merc, not an ex-corp working counterintelligence—she’s not anything.

Her optics catch sight of several Tiger Claws lingering around the market, and she makes sure to give them a wide berth, especially when she notes the impressive list of their stats. She’s not stupid enough to attack outright when they outclass her—for now—and there are several of them around. With the market this busy the only outcome to that fight would be a bloodbath with police on her ass when that’s the last thing she needs right now.

Despite that logical part inside her steering her well clear of the gang members the need to blow off some steam bubbles under her skin. An ache starts to form against her temple soon after, making her focus blur around the edges as she wanders from vendor to vendor aimlessly.

“Hey, V,” a rumble of a voice cuts through her thoughts—and she hates how she can’t quite ignore his voice unlike everyone else—and turns her head in the direction of the call. She had foolishly assumed he was going to give her some peace of mind for tonight at least. “Check this guy out.”

Walking up a dimly lit staircase, she had barely noticed a man sitting on a rickety chair and playing a guitar. Much like her, others walk right past him, ignoring the man altogether.

Johnny glimmers into sight, squatting in place and oddly intent on observing the old man while he plays.

She entertains the idea of walking away simply to piss him off. If something is of interest to him, then she wants to ignore it so hard it gets under his nonexistent skin. Petty, perhaps, but ever so satisfying.

Hearing no reply or receiving much reaction at all, Johnny slants his head her way, nodding once towards the man, “What do you think?”

Squinting, she drags her gaze towards the guitarist, crossing her arms over her chest while she listens. She’s not even sure why she’s bothering but…

The melody is slow, near drowned out by the bustling sounds of the nearby market and chatter of people walking past.

“He’s...fine?” she offers lamely. “I mean he’s pretty good.”

A slight smirk crosses over Johnny’s mouth—gone in a blink but the focus he places on the man who seems to be unaware of her or the silent second spectator surprises her.

“Loses tempo more than he keeps it,” he comments, almost absently, and she feels her eyebrows arch in another show of bewilderment. A quiet spells falls over their little nook, and Johnny listens more, thoughts rolling inside his head if his body language is any sign. “Sloppy on the technique but he has feeling in the way he plays. Can’t teach that.”

“If only you didn’t die,” she sighs softly, closing her eyes in mock sympathy. “This could have been you.”

He surprises her again by laughing at that. It’s a deep rumble of a sound, and she can almost feel it echo between them and their mental bridge. “You’re kinda of a bitch. Has anyone told you that before?”

Her teeth flash in the dim orange glow of the neon lights. “And you’re sort of a dick. Anyone tell you that before?” she wonders with a charming, practiced smile.

He flickers out of sight and she’s about to call it a mental victory but a tickle of electricity kisses across the bare curve of her shoulder and neck, and she shivers when he appears beside her. His arms are crossed as well, and he glances her way briefly.

“Seems to me like we’re two peas in a fuckin’ pot, then,” he points out easily, and shakes his head, seemingly amused by his own words. “I might have tried to kill you a few weeks ago but look at us being chummy, Ver.”

Her throat closes up at that, expression tightening. He notices of course. Or maybe it’s the unease that slices through her mind at the casual way he uses her nickname.

“What? Am I not allowed to call you that or somethin’?” he wonders curiously, seemingly entertained by her reaction. Asshole.

“Only my friends call me Ver.”

Jackie was the first.

That thought makes her swallow painfully, a dull ache clawing against her heart. One would think that years being a corpo would have wiped whatever humanity still lived in her but Jackie’s death had been a stark reminder that she couldn’t be further from the truth if she tried.

“Why?”

She gives him a flat look. “Because my full name is Vermillion, but people tend to find it a mouthful so…”

“Vermillion,” he repeats, his intonation dry, and she shoots him a quick glare, daring him to make an issue of it. Naturally, his next words don’t surprise her, “That’s a stupid fuckin’ name.”

“Oh, because Johnny Silverhand is so much better.”

She expects him to say something snarky in return, argue maybe, but he only snorts. His metal hand lifts, pushing his aviators down slightly as he glances at her over them.

“You got me there.”

Usually, they’re a calamity together—destructive and volatile as each other. But right now, just for a second, there is only music and them. Shadows and life of the Night City holding them both suspended in this moment. No arguments or biting comments. No guilt, either.

A slight smile tugs across her mouth as she continues listening to the man play his downbeat little tune. Her shoulders loosen, drooping slightly and she lets herself breathe for a moment. Just the one.

“Used to be just like him,” Johnny speaks up suddenly, his voice more subdued, lower, and taps his fingers against the cigarette he’s holding. “But better. Used to play everywhere we could. Garages, bars. Anywhere that would have us, and we always had an audience.”

She hums, offering him a brief glance. “You mean you were actually good?”

She can’t see his eyes in the darkness of the street or through his tinted shades. But despite that, she can still feel his glare and the mental bite of chagrin/irritation/why is she so annoying? and deeper than that a spark of amusement/little shit thinks she’s funny.

“What’s this?” he muses, his words sarcastic. “A corpo rat that actually has a sense of humour? Colour me surprised.”

“No can do,” she shoots back promptly, fighting back a wider grin. “You’re too dead for that.”

He tsks, throwing his cigarette to the ground and she almost rolls her eyes. “Can’t wait to be out of your damn head, princess.”

“Can’t wait to be rid of you, either, so the feeling is mutual.”

Their words might be stringent but she can almost taste the faint amusement trickling between them and under that bridge that connects them.

“There might still be some bootlegs of those old days,” he muses thoughtfully. “People used to record everything back in my day.”

She drags her gaze his way, lips thinning into a firm line, “I’m not becoming a fan, if that’s what you’re hoping for.”

“Afraid you’ll hear real music and won’t be able to go back to this modern garbage I hear everywhere?”

There is challenge in his words and she bristles. Maybe this is what she needs. She may not be able to put holes in some Tiger Claws with her sniper rifle but she sure as hell can go on a scavenger hunt and see what she finds.

Besides, it might help her to understand the man nested inside her mind a little better.

So when an hour later the old, wrinkly vendor asks her why he should give her his oldest, most precious Samurai vinyl, she tells him the truth.

A twisted truth.

But truth all the same.

“He’s with me every step I take, every move I make,” she confesses softly, something deep down breathing awake at that admittance. “Johnny’s like my conscience. My eternal, infernal moral compass.”

She doesn’t miss how the man in question doesn’t appear, doesn’t say anything even after hearing that. She would have figured he would be the first in line to offer her some mocking, snarky comment but there is only silence.

In fact, she can barely feel him at all. The tether between them is still and quiet.

And his silence says a lot more than he probably realises.

an: hello. guess whose not dead and kinda back to writing. dunno how much of cp77 you should expect because coa is still my priority but maybe occasional fic for these dumbos is on the cards. oh, and takemura because cdpr are cowards for not giving us that enemies to friends/partners to lovers romance. also I know this isn’t strictly RI and I honestly considered writing it as such but saw...no point? since the premise still would have been the same, so something a little different today ig.

#cyberpunk 2077 #johnny silverhand #johnny silverhand x v #johnny silverhand x female v #keanu reeves #johnny silverhand imagine #johnny silverhand fic #cyberpunk 2077 imagine #cyberpunk 2077 fic #c: vermillion #s: get out of my head

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all1e23 · 5 years ago

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Bad Habit [Pt.1]

Pairings: Biker!Steve x Reader

Series warnings: Drug use. Violence. Smut so 18+ please and thank – No smut this chapter. Sorry to disappoint

A/N: Part 1! 800 years later. I’m doing my best to get my wips finished by the end of the year so fingers crossed I actually do so. Un-beta’d. So, uh, yeah. Be prepared for that.

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are my jam, though! Thanks!****

Two weeks it’s been since his mystery girl came into his life, and Steve hadn’t seen or heard from her since she bolted out of the clubhouse’s front door before the sun had cleared the trees. At the time, Steve was disappointed. He had plans. There was a burning need for waffles and bacon and syrup covered kisses, the exchange of numbers, or the very least names and a plan for next time. All those wants quickly evaporated along with the dust those tires kicked up during the hasty getaway. In hindsight, it was probably for the best that morning played out as it did. If Bucky had been there to witness a girl running from his room at first light, he would never hear the end of it. Before the day was out, Bucky would have the whole clubhouse believing he ran another girl off. Thankfully, the only person to catch the escape was Sam, and he was doing everything he could to convince Steve to forget about it. Sam told him nothing good came from chasing a girl that didn’t want to be chased, but Steve has this feeling in his gut, this time wasn’t like before.

Whoever you were, you were different.

Maybe you had him under some sorta spell, and that was why he couldn't forget you. It would explain a lot. You captivated him from the moment you stepped into the bar, and he still saw stars long after you ran out the front door and out of his life. He never really stood a chance if he was honest with himself; Steve knew he was in trouble from the first glance. Two things were apparent right off the bat, you were going to be a handful, and it would be hard, if not impossible, to earn your love. Still, Steve chased after you like a novice sailor following a siren’s melody. He had no problem admitting he was willing to follow you out to the middle of the ocean only to find himself unable to swim in the dark waters you lived in.

In the past, Steve had a bad habit of falling too fast, loving quick and fierce. You would be his last. He just had a feeling things would go his way this time--if he could find you.

As much as he wanted to see you again, he didn’t have any idea how to make that happen. He didn’t even know your name and had no idea where to start looking for you. Hell, he didn’t even know if you lived in Brooklyn. For all, he knew this could have been a stop on your way home where you already had someone waiting on you. All he had was the necklace you gave him, and that was a dead-end. It was just a one-night stand. He should toss the chain in a drawer and put that night behind him. Most men like him would. They would move on to the next girl and forget you existed. Steve, though, he’s stubborn (so says Bucky), and it’s a good thing he is because it’s always worked in his favor.

Steve ran his thumb over the gold pendant resting against his chest and grinned as he watched you move around behind the bar.

The one place he would have never thought to look.

"Well, I'll be damned,” Steve whispered to himself, still watching as you talked and laughed with customers.

Natasha mentioned she hired a new girl he hadn’t met yet a few nights ago, but without knowing his siren’s name, there was no way he could have connected the two. He had no idea that this Y/n was his Y/n. Now that he found you, he only had to get past the high walls you built up around your heart.

Steve parted the worn red leather stools to make room for him to lean against the polished wood, drumming his fingers impatiently along the bar top waiting for you to finish up with the man you were serving at the far end and finally notice him. You gave the stranger in dark brown leather a high squeaky laugh in return for the lousy pick-up line he threw at you. It wasn’t the same laugh, Steve knew. The laughter he memorized was light and airy, your whole body shook when it took hold of you, and it made your eyes sparkle in a way that could steal his breath like nothing else. Steve found that out early in the night when his beard tickled your inner thigh. The memory made him grin. He wanted to hate how fake you sounded right then, but it also meant you let him see a part of you you kept hidden from the rest of the world, and that was enough for hope.

You turned around and stopped short when you spotted Steve standing there, grinning at you, looking just as pretty as he did the last time you saw him. He trimmed his beard, but it was still thick only cleaned up a bit, and those pretty blond locks tucked behind his ears made him look like a young boy. The tattoos on his forearm peeking out from the rolled-up sleeves and the black leather kutte resting over the snug burgundy Henley reminded you he was no boy. He was trouble, and he was looking to drag you into his mischief. That wasn’t going to happen, no matter how pretty he looked. It took a second for your brain to remind your feet they needed to move. Steve slid around the bar as you made your way towards him.

"What are you doing here?" You asked quietly, refusing to look up from the IPA bottle you were cracking open.

"Came to see a friend of mine. His wife owns the place. I have to admit I thought it would be a lot harder to find you."

Shit. You stopped mid pour and set the glass down, half full of foam. That would need a re-pour.

No. This wasn't happening. Surely, he didn’t mean… No, no. No.

"Wait..." You needed to know before you said things you couldn’t take back. "Are you talking about Bucky?"

Steve tilted his head to the side. Now, that had his curiosity piqued. You could see him processing your question, and you knew exactly what he was thinking: Why did you know that Bucky was Bucky? It was rare that Bucky interfered in Natasha’s business at all. Everyone knew who her husband was and what he was, but it never went beyond James Barnes, Vice President of The Howlers. This sounded like you were… friends?

You should have kept your mouth shut and walked away the second you saw him.

"You know, Buck?"

Buck... Oh, god.

It suddenly all made so much sense, and you were such an idiot.

“Why me? What did I ever do to deserve this? I’m a decent person, aren't I?” You asked, looking up at the ceiling as if someone from the heavens would answer you. “This is so bad. Why do you have to be you?”

You groaned and dropped your head to the bar top. Your one night stand was Bucky's best friend. Club president. Your Steve was Steve Rogers. The Howler’s MC President. The man who went on the road for three years and no one knew why, the one who went nomad and only returned home a few weeks ago. This was why you never let tequila make your decisions. You always end up doing something foolish, like charming bikers that will break your heart.

“I think this necklace of yours might be my good luck charm. Led me right to you, firecracker.”

“Good luck or a curse?” You grumbled against the slick wood top. Steve hummed, clearly amused by the light chuckle that followed. You slowly lifted your head to glare at him, and he simply grinned back.

“Definitely good luck, sweetheart,” Steve assured you with a wink.

You refused to smile, and you certainly weren’t going to be the one that looked away first. You won’t give in to whatever he’s playing at. Steve settled against the wood and stared right back; his bright blue eyes glittered with amusement and something else that made your skin tingle and your inside burn with want. You recognized a young blond man from a night or two spent at Bucky and Natasha’s place strolled by the bar, only slowing down long enough to pat Steve on the back, but Steve didn’t even blink at the distraction.

Nothing could pull him away from you.

“Hey, Nomad. You comin’?”

Nomad?

“Yeah, I’ll be there in a minute Clint. I’ve got some business out here first.”

You could hear Clint cackling as he walked down the long hallway that led to Natasha’s office. You wondered what the club wanted here and how often the club— and Steve— would be hanging around. Natasha said there wasn’t any overlap between the two. There was a moment of uncertainty and fear when she first offered you the job. You didn’t know if you could work for her if her business was mixed up in club business. That was until she assured you the club didn’t interfere in her affairs. That put some of your worries at ease, not all but enough to give you the courage to accept the job. Your last run-in with an MC was why you ended up south Brooklyn begging Natasha for a place to stay and a position. That was how you ended up working at Red Star and sharing a pathetically tiny apartment with your new friend Wanda.

There was no one else, no other friends to run to if things go south again. This was the only second chance you were getting, and you couldn’t blow it on someone like Steve Rogers.

“Thought your name was Steve?”

Steve grinned.

“That’s my given name. These idiots call me Nomad when they aren’t calling me Prez or Cap. Stevie on occasion. Everyone’s got a nickname ‘round here.”

You’ve heard plenty about their nicknames and all the things they’ve done to get them.

“I think I prefer Charming,” you mumbled, walking down a few stools to finally hand over a fresh, less foamy IPA to the grump at the far end of the bar.

Every time you moved, Steve followed you, dodging the bodies sitting and standing, and there were several times you had to tell your heart to shut up and keep the flutters to herself. It was becoming increasingly evident that Steve wasn’t going to give up easily. Seeing as how he would probably be around often, you needed to put an end to whatever storybook ending he was building up in his head.

"You can call me whatever you want."

You rolled your eyes and slipped the neck of two bottles between your fingers on each hand.

“Can I have your name now?”

“No.”

Steve laughed. He just laughed as if there was something funny about what you had said. He didn’t seem annoyed or upset by your callus tone. If anything, he enjoyed it. Once your hands were free, he reached for you and circled his long fingers around your wrist, loose enough you could easily slip free if you wanted to, but you made no move to lose his touch. You didn’t want to draw any more attention towards the two of you than you had already. That was absolutely the only reason you were letting him touch you. It had nothing to do with how much you liked the feel of his warm, calloused hands on your skin.

“I could keep calling you my firecracker.”

“I’m not your anything,” you were quick to correct him.

“No, you're not,” Steve said with a grin. “We haven't even gone on a date yet.”

Yet! As if there is a chance it would be happening. He was sadly mistaken if he thought there was going to be another page to your story. You raised a brow, and Steve hung his head in defeat, but the smile on his face hadn’t changed when he finally looked back up. Something about this man made you want to hide in the safety of his arms and stop running long enough to see if fairy-tales were real.

That was why things between you would never work.

“Why won’t you give me a chance, hm?”

Because you're just like all the rest, pretty and dangerous, the harsh voice in your head screamed. It was probably better he didn’t know you thought he was pretty. He seemed like the type to focus on the compliment and ignore the rest.

“Mmm, I’ve played with bikers before. The ride is dangerous, dirty, and short-lived. The risk is never worth the reward.”

That made Steve frown for the first time since he walked into the bar and your heart-clenched at the look of concern on his face. For a second, you thought about taking it back. Telling him he could be different and maybe he was a good guy with a half-decent heart—even if you didn’t believe it.

“Sounds Like you're playing with the wrong bikers. My rewards are always well worth the ride, babydoll."

On second thought, with lines like that, maybe you were right from the start. You weren’t about to fall for the same overplayed words he’s used on every other girl to catch his eye. It would take a lot more than a cheap shot to get you back in his bed. You leaned forward, ghosting your lips over his and slowly pulled back, grinning when he chased after you. You were starting to like this game, and that was begging for more trouble than your heart could handle.

“All you bikers are the same,” you whispered, leaning across the bar practically nose to nose. “Sweet talk to get into a girl's panties, and then you’re over it. You all claim it’s love at first sight, but it never is. It’s about the chase, the high. It’s never about the girl.”

Steve sighed. It didn’t sound annoyed, genuinely unsettled by your words, but he wasn’t irritated. More importantly, he wasn’t aggravated with you, but you were sure he felt sorry for you, which bothered you more. When you dropped your gaze, he gently nudged your chin up with his knuckle until you willingly looked up to meet his eyes.“One problem with your theory, firecracker. I’ve already been in those pretty panties of yours, and I’m still chasing you. Did you ever think that maybe I’m not playing with you? That I actually like you?”

The knot wedged in your throat made it impossible to answer. So you shrugged instead and let your silence speak for itself; no, you didn’t think that, and you didn’t trust him. None of what he said proved anything. It didn’t mean he was different. It just meant his rules were. The high would end once he won your heart, and you would be tossed to the side while he moved onto a newer, prettier skirt.

Steve would get bored once he finally earned your heart and your trust, and that made him worse than the others. You would know. You pulled your chin away from his hand but stayed close enough to feel the heat from his hand.

"Go to dinner with me."

"Steve--"

"Y/n," Steve sighed playfully, grinning at the shock on your face. He knew your name, but he still asked for it? He shrugged, reading the question that was burning in your eyes. Natasha. She must have mentioned the new girl she hired, and Steve was smart enough to put two and two together. You weren’t sure you liked him knowing your name. He was that much closer to knowing all your secrets, and you couldn’t let that happen.

"Go. To. Dinner. With me. Please."

You hated how adorable he looked begging and pleading for only a few hours of your time. He was so cute, and you nearly gave in. Your head overruled your heart and reminded you exactly why you weren’t dating men like him. It only led to heartbreak, and you would very much like to avoid spending your nights crying over another beautiful biker who rode off with your heart.

"I told you, I don't want anything serious. I’m not looking for more than what we had."

"It doesn't have to be more than dinner, and I swear if you really don’t want to go on a date with this will be the last time I ask you. I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to, but I am dying to get you back on my bike. Next Saturday night, if you’re up for it. You can even pick the place if you want to. I promise it will be dinner only. No strings."

"No strings?" you questioned, eyeing him for any signs of deceit as you did. There was none. Just an excitable puppy staring back at you, ready to give you whatever you wanted if you’d let him.

"Yeah, why not? We can be friends with benefits or whatever the kids call it nowadays."

"Are we friends?"

"We are if you say yes, darling."

You could feel yourself giving in, and you already hated yourself for it because Steve was grinning victoriously, eyes bright, and pleading with you to say yes. You held up one finger ready with your conditions, and Steve quickly grabbed your hand, pressing a kiss to the back, lost in the excitement of what he already knew was about to leave your lips.

“One dinner, and I’m not promising any benefits.”

Steve lowered your hand and tilted his chin an inch, so his lips were brushing yours when he whispered, “Good. I prefer to earn every one of those sweet whimpers.”

Someone behind you cleared their throat, and you quickly yanked your arm back, bumping into the wall of bottles behind you, causing the glass to rattle against each other. Bucky’s eyes flicked back and forth between you, and it didn’t take long for him to put it together. A slow grin stretched on Bucky’s face, quickly turning smug. He knew about your one-night stand, not in any detail but that you liked your mystery man far more than you should, and you assumed Steve shared his thoughts on that evening. You narrowed your eyes at the brunet when he opened his mouth, and it quickly snapped shut—grabbing the empty crates at your feet needing something, anything to use as an excuse to get as far away from both of them as you could. The fridge in the basement was the furthest you could get at the moment, and that was precisely where you were headed.

“Don’t even say it,” you hissed as you pushed past Bucky.

Bucky watched as Steve’s eyes followed you until you were out of sight, disappearing down the stairs behind the bar. He looked drunk, maybe a little high, and definitely a little lovesick.

“Gettin’ into trouble again, Stevie?”

“You could say that, Buck,” Steve sighed helplessly. “I’m getting into something. Not sure what just yet.”

Prologue // next

#biker!steve rogers #Biker!Steve Rogers x reader #Steve rogers x reader #Steve Rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #Steve x you #Steve x reader #modern au #alternate universe #MC!AU #MC!Steve Rogers

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raphaellalacognizi · 4 years ago

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so remember last july when i thought to myself, "haha, wouldn't it be cool if i made a mechsona?"

well, turns out a year of living with that thought in the back of your head will only get you 4,977 nearly 5,000 words of backstory and a spotify playlist, so, solid 7/10 experience

(okay look, Day 2 of the Mechtober prompts was the most coincidentally perfect overlap of "Mechsona" and "Blood," so I finally decided to stop being a coward and actually let people who aren't my classmates see this. ALSO, quick warnings for violence and death, if you're a bit squeamish about those sorts of things. So, with that said, the story itself...)

Introducing!

La Vie en Rouge

Dear Reader:

In this strange world, so bright and so bold

You may, somehow, find a Tale Yet Untold

You could read one now, if you so choose

This Tale- of the Blood-Red Dancing Shoes.

It had started like any other day. And not even an interesting kind of “any other day,” like a Saturday, which always promises adventure, or a Thursday, which has a tendency towards mystery. No, this was a Tuesday kind of “any other day,” which merely meant inescapable boredom.

At the very least, that’s how it started.

However, as Adeline Troffea was leaving her house, she heard the trumpets that signaled Lord Vitus’ arrival. She groaned. A visit from Vitus- sorry, His Most Esteemed Lord Vitus, she snorted as she mentally corrected herself- never went well. He was a deeply unpleasant person to be around, as he looked like a spoiled child and acted twice as bad. Additionally, he was usually about two seconds away from screaming nonsensically at any townsfolk who bothered him, like some sort of Saturday-morning-cartoon villain. Sometimes Adeline was sure he must be doing it on purpose- his ridiculous moustache (twirled oh-so-carefully at the ends), his pale skin and delicate hands (that had clearly never done anything harder than gesture dramatically from the shade provided by his servants), the too-fine crowns and jewels and capes his draped himself in (who even needed more than one crown? Isn’t that too excessive, even for Vitus?)- he couldn’t be for real, right?

Reader, Lord Vitus would prove himself to be more real than Adeline could imagine before this story’s end. But we’ll get to that in time.

Hopefully, Adeline thought to herself, walking down the well-trodden path into town, I can be in and out of the market before Vitus takes a single dainty step out of his carriage. Fabien, her best friend (practically an older brother, really) as well as the town’s shoemaker, had promised her something special today- an early birthday present, he had called it the day before, as the birthday in question was “an entire week and a day away” and he didn’t know if his “poor, old heart” would hold out that long.

“Fabien, you’re barely 30!” she had protested, shaking her head.

“I know, Addie, I’m ancient!” he’d moaned, before adopting the affectation of what was probably supposed to sound like an old man, but instead sounded more like a wheezing duck. “I can feel my brittle bones crackin’. They ain’t what they used to be, I tell ya. You know, when I was just a boy, I had to walk to school every day? Uphill! In the snow!”

“Both ways!” Adeline joined in before they both dissolved into laughter.

So now, here she was, in front of Fabien’s shop, feet tapping on the ground in a sort of nervous excitement. Gingerly, she opened the door.

“Hello?” she called. The response came from somewhere in the back of the shop.

“Ah, Addie! What a surprise! What sort of thing-that-I-totally-don’t-know-about brings you here today?”

She rolled her eyes as she began to make her way through the shelves and around the cobbling stations to the back of the building. “You know, it’s a funny story actually, but my best friend- well, former best friend, I should say-” she was cut off by a sharp laugh as she turned the next corner and came face to face with Fabien, holding a beautiful red box.

“‘Former best friend?!’ Is that any way to treat someone who’s gotten you such a spectacular present?” he asked, schooling his face into an over exaggerated pout.

“It is if they’re going to be stupidabout it,” she replied, yanking the present from his hands with ease. Fabien made a wounded sound, and Adeline stuck her tongue out in response before opening the lid of the box.

Inside was the most beautiful pair of tap shoes Adeline had ever seen. The leather they were made of was white as freshly fallen snow, and the perfect balance between flexible and sturdy. She turned them over in her hand and gasped, brushing her finger over the engravings on the metal taps.

“Roses,” Fabien smiled softly, “because I know they’re your favorite.”

Overwhelmed, Adeline could only set the shoes aside for a moment and tackle Fabien in a hug. And for that one shining moment, everything was perfect.

“Oh, I simply must have these!” a haughty voice sang out behind Adeline, who jumped at the sudden noise. Standing there was none other than Lord Vitus himself, bedecked in his finest golden cape, and holding- oh no, absolutely not. Before she could even register her own movements, she yanked her shoes back.

“No, you simply mustn’t have these, actually,” she quipped in that same snooty tone, stuffing the shoes back in the box, before suddenly realizing what exactly she had done. Refusing the Lord? Taking things right out of his hands? Mocking him to his face? How could she possibly get out of this?

Clearly, there was only one answer.

She bolted.

She heard Vitus’ petulant cry of “After her!” ring out from behind, and then the heavy sound of soldiers’ footsteps, but she dared not look back. Instead, she ran harder, her mind racing almost as fast as her feet. There had to be someplace to hide. She turned a corner, onto a smaller side street. She couldn’t go home, it was too far away.She burst out onto another street before turning abruptly, one hand wrapping around a streetlamp to keep her momentum as she flew back where she’d just come from, the soldiers falling over themselves in their confused haste. But there were so many soldiers, and there was no way she could outrun them forever.

She ducked into a dark alley for a moment, throwing herself behind a couple of barrels just as the men appeared at the mouth of the alley. She held her breath as they hurried past her, trying not to catch their attention with her heaving gasps. And this is why I’m a dancer, not a runner, she thought, half delirious on a cocktail of exhaustion and adrenaline. Could it have been minutes? Hours? All the streets had blended together long ago, and her muscles ached with exertion. Unintentionally, she closed her eyes, just for a moment.

A strong hand clamped down on her shoulder and Adeline’s blood turned to ice in her veins as her eyes shot open again. Her despairing cry was cut short as another hand covered her mouth. She shook her head wildly, terror taking over, before she caught the gaze of her captor.

Fabien.

Adeline felt her entire body sink back in relief with his appearance. Slowly and ever-so-softly, Fabien removed his hand from her mouth, making a shushing motion before Adeline could even open her mouth to ask what was going on. He carefully undid the buttons of his cloak, taking if off of himself and wrapping it around Adeline. It dangled loosely from her small frame, making her look even smaller. A disguise, she noted distantly, hiding in plain sight. Once he’d secured it around her shoulders, Fabien began to explain.

“Everyone’s pretty proud of you, you know, standing up to Vitus like that. I know you’ve always been a bit of a wildcard, but that was even better than expected. You should have seen his face when you ran, oh my-”

Adeline made a small noise of distress. She hadn’t been making a statement, she’d been making a mistake! It was all a big misunderstanding, and now she was going to be killed, or worse, and she hadn’t even had the chance to wear her beautiful birthday shoes, and-

Fabien shook her gently, murmuring comforts, and she took in a shuddering breath, focusing back on him.

“You’ve been brave enough today. Let me take a turn, okay?” he said softly, gesturing at the shoebox. Without waiting for a response, he grabbed it from her still shaking hands. In seconds, he had pried open the lid, taken the shoes out, and tucked them into the inside pockets of the cloak Adeline now wore, continuing to talk as he did so.

“The village has been giving Vitus the run-around all day, trying to keep him off your trail, and honestly, I’m not sure he’s noticed. That man is so far up his own ass that I genuinely think he can’t even comprehend the thought of people working against him.” Fabien smiled a bit as Adeline giggled weakly. “Just keep a low profile. We won’t let anything happen to you. Promise.”

For a moment, Adeline was so overcome with emotion that felt like her legs might give out underneath her. Instead, she threw herself forward and hugged him, wrapping her arms around him as tightly as she could.

“Thank you, so much. For everything.”

Fabien squeezed her in return.

“Nothing to thank me for, Addie.”

It was at this moment the sound of soldiers came rushing back, hurling them both back into reality. In a flash, Fabien pulled the cloak’s hood up, casting Adeline’s face in shadow. He gave her a little push towards the other end of the alley, nodding reassuringly. Adeline took a deep breath, steeling herself, before walking, confidently as she could, back out onto the crowded street.

There were soldiers everywhere, knocking on doors, stopping bystanders and asking them about Adeline’s whereabouts. A customer just coming out of the bakery- Monsieur LeClair, she noted- was having one such conversation… if one could call “a man taking obnoxiously large bites out of a muffin and then speaking with his mouth full, spraying bits of food directly into the soldiers’ faces” a conversation. As the soldiers hurriedly excused themselves, disgustedly wiping the muffin bits from their faces, Monsieur LeClair caught Adeline’s eye and winked. She smiled and bowed her head in return before scurrying off again. As she made her way to the town square, she passed at least a dozen or so variations on this conversation- townsfolk left and right making excuses, even outright lying to the soldiers, distracting them long enough for Adeline to slip away, towards the town square.

Vitus was exactly where she thought he would be- right in the middle of the town square, complaining loudly to anyone who would listen (and all those who wouldn’t). She leaned against the brick wall of the closest building, trying to make herself look as small and unassuming as possible. She bit her lip as she thought through possible escape scenarios, keeping Vitus in her peripheral vision, right up until-

“We found the shoemaker, Your Lordship, but no sign of the girl or the shoes.”

Adeline felt her heart stop as her head turned on autopilot. A crowd had gathered in the square, following three figures that Adeline loathed to recognize as Fabien and Lord Vitus’ men. One soldier shoved Fabien down roughly, while another threw the shoebox down with such force that it popped open, revealing its empty inside.

Vitus rolled his eyes at Fabien, looking bored out of his mind. “Where are they?” he sighed.

“Where are what, My Lord?” Fabien asked through gritted teeth.

At this, Vitus seemed to revert to an overgrown toddler.

“My shoes! They were so very pretty and I wanted them, but that little wretch stole them from me and ran off and I want them baaaack!”

Fabien, still on his knees, snorted.

Vitus blinked, clearly surprised. Suddenly, another laugh joined in, and another, and another, and in seconds the entire crowd was laughing at this grown man’s tantrum. Even Adeline found herself giggling, albeit shakily.

It was as though Vitus had only just now realized what kind of a predicament he was in. No one was going to give up the shoes, or the girl, and to make matters worse, they weren’t going to take him seriously either. He glanced nervously around the crowd for a moment before his lip curled and his nose scrunched up, as though he had just smelled something particularly unpleasant. Standing to his full height, he raised his voice.

“You have one week to hand over the shoes! If you do not, there will be, shall we say… severe consequences.” He turned around dramatically, which reignited the snickering, and quickly made his way back to his carriage processional.

As the carriages rattled away, Adeline was struck by an idea. It was a bad idea, she knew, and probably too risky, but she had already defied the odds once today, and with the adrenaline still coursing through her veins, she felt unstoppable. She nimbly climbed to the roof of the nearest building to pay her respects, so to speak, waving in the direction of Vitus’ window. She ripped off her hood dramatically, snorting when Vitus’ face contorted in rage. And as her heart sang with love for her town and her people, her feet were helpless to dance along for all the world to see. From her perch on the roof, she watched the other townsfolk join her in celebration, dancing in their own little ways. Madame Beaumont lifted her son Jean into the air, spinning him around as he giggled. Michel Rousseau was doing a little shoulder shimmy. Even Old Lady Coralie was dancing a little two-step. Adeline beamed at them all before turning toward Fabien. Several people were still gathered around him, making sure he wasn’t too hurt, and Adeline almost climbed right back down to join them. But, as though he could sense her worry, Fabien looked up suddenly at met her eyes. He smiled at her before winking conspiratorially. Relief flooded through her as she winked back- a sign that everything was going to be okay, and one she believed wholeheartedly.

Just before she climbed back down to go home, she chanced a glance back at Vitus’ carriage. For a second Vitus met her eye, his glare an ice cold promise of revenge. Adeline shivered under the threat, before gathering herself just enough to make a rude gesture back at him. The distressed shriek that followed was music to her ears.

That pompous man-child had it coming anyway, Adeline thought, and resolved to put the matter out of her mind. Of course, Reader, it wasn’t so simple as that, but let it not be said that she didn’t try her best to hide her misgivings from everyone, even herself.

After what was probably too many hugs goodbye, even for her, Adeline finally made her way back home with her new shoes. The moment she closed her door, she slumped against it and slid down to the floor, exhausted and terrified. Her eyes stung with unshed tears as she recalled the look in Vitus’ eyes as he took his leave. She was no fighter! She had no money, no strength, no prospects- no hope. How could she possibly try to stand up to the army Vitus would surely bring back with him? And she couldn’t- wouldn’t- put her people in danger like this, not after they’d already done so much for her. That’s it, she thought, rubbing her eyes, she would go right back to the village and work something out with everyone else, something to keep everyone safe and out of harm’s way before Vitus could return.

But as she opened her eyes again, her gaze fell upon the shoe box, lying on the floor beside her. The shoes themselves had tumbled out from her little outburst, and they almost seemed to be calling to her, begging her to at least try them on, to dance in them. And after so much trouble, how could she possibly refuse?

The shoes were a perfect fit- of course they were, they were literally made for her, she thought as she snickered a little under her breath. Watching herself carefully in the mirror, she raised her right foot ever so slightly before kicking it forward in a test shuffle. She smiled. The sound of metal against the waxed wood floor was perfection. Unable to help herself, she hummed a little tune, matching each note with another step- a cramp roll here, a paradiddle there, a set of triple time steps- she was in her element as she lost herself to the dance.

Dancing in the shoes filled her with such joy that she really could almost forget about the whole thing with Vitus. Adeline knew he wouldn’t take this lying down, and with his power and resources- she knew she had to be prepared. First thing in the morning, I promise I’ll figure out a plan, she reasoned. It’s not as though he could even attack tonight anyway.

So she danced and danced and danced, until the day finally caught up with her, and she quite abruptly fell asleep, not even bothering to take off her new shoes.

That night, Adeline had the strangest dream. She- no, the whole town, was dancing to song unlike any she’d heard before. It almost… hurt, in a way, to listen to, and yet she was sure it was the most beautiful melody she had ever heard. It felt as though it had wormed its way into her soul, her very existence, and intertwined itself so deeply that it might never leave. For a moment, Adeline felt fear, the likes of which she’d never known. She tried to wake herself up, to scream for to someone to help her, to do something, anything to stop this, but she couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t stop-

And then Calm washed over her completely, every other thought and sensation lost to the ocean of the strange melody as it lulled her back to sleep.

When she opened her eyes the next morning, it was to find that the song had followed her into the waking world. She knew something was wrong, but as she tried to figure it out, every thought was just out of reach. She stumbled out of her room, towards the front door, but her limbs felt almost disconnected from her, almost as if they were being of their own. She slammed face-first into the door, and, for a split second, the ringing of her ears overpowered the music enough to. I need… help, right, that was it, I need help because of…

Because of……

The music, the music, the music- it consumed her every thought. Every step and every breath taken in time with that exquisite, unending song. Every note whispered sweet nothings in her ear, asking, pleading, begging her to join them and become beautiful too, until she was helpless to resist any longer. Until finally, she began to dance.

And dance, dear Reader, she did.

She found herself completely at the mercy of the music as it maneuvered her around like a marionette. She was only vaguely aware that she had somehow made it to the town square, and that several of her concerned neighbors were trying to talk to her, but nothing could break through the haze of the music.

As the day went on and on, passersby occasionally stopped to try to rouse her from her state, all to no avail. It seemed there was no way to reach her, and as night fell, they stopped trying. The light of the moons illuminated her as she danced, and were it not for the sound of the metal in her shoes they might have assumed her some dark spirit. Perhaps some still did. But the fact remains that all the townsfolk, save one, eventually found their way to sleep, secure in their ignorance of the events to come.

The next morning, as the suns rose over the horizon, the people of Strasbourg woke to the sight of not one, but two figures dancing in the square. By breakfast, it had been made a dozen. By lunch, it was nearly half the town. And by 8:46 pm, on the dot, all 398 residents of Strasbourg had found themselves unwilling victims of the dance.

Reader, there are many things I wish I could tell you.

I wish I could tell you that the dancing stopped just as strangely and suddenly as it began, and it became a scary story told for many generations. Or else, I wish I could tell you that the townsfolk found a way to weaponize their dancing and rose up against Lord Vitus, and discovered the cause of their dance- a machine of Vitus’ cruel creation, designed to transmit an almost imperceptible signal into the minds of those who heard it and drive them to madness. Picture it now, Reader: Vitus, stroking a gloved hand down the side of the machine as its whistles blew and the steam that rose from the spouts shrieked, the sound of his dastardly laughter barely audible over the chaos, until it was suddenly cut short by the doors to the hall as they opened with a BANG, and Vitus would finally come face to face with the consequences of his actions.

But more than all that, I wish I could tell you Adeline never remembered what happened as she danced. That for the seven days and seven nights that she danced in the town square, without food, without water, without rest, she was never aware of the fact that everyone she had ever known lay dead or dying at her feet.

None of these things are true, of course. The dance continued, the machine was not destroyed, and as the days passed Adeline slowly became more and more conscious. She watched, helpless, as all around her, her friends, her family, fell to the ground to dance no more. She yelled, screamed, pleaded to anyone who would listen, to anyone who could help- and the only response she got was the answering cries of her village, getting smaller and smaller.

By the sixth day of the village’s dance, there was only one other person still dancing beside her. It was Fabien, because of course it was Fabien- she didn’t know if this was supposed to be a blessing or a curse, though she was leaning heavily towards the latter. His steps had been slowing and his wheezing had increased exponentially in the past few hours, and Adeline knew what was coming, even if she couldn’t bear to say it aloud. Fabien, on the other hand, had no such qualms.

“I did warn you,” he rasped, after a coughing fit had nearly sent Adeline into a heart attack of her own, “That I wouldn’t make it to your birthday. My heart is just so-”

“God, shut up, please, for once in your life just shut up!” She screamed, her voice breaking. Her outburst seemed to shock him, and she turned away before she could see the tears streaming down her cheeks. She took a shuddering breath before barreling on.

“Fabien, this is all my fault, I’m so sorry, I should have-” he made a sharp noise and she cut herself off, choking back a sob.

“Don’t you dare think, for even a moment, that this is your fault,” he whispered, sounding more serious than she had ever heard him. “We all made our own decisions, you and me and everyone else. This is not on you, even a little bit. It was my choice, and I would choose it in a million lifetimes, okay? I just-” Fabien dropped to his knees, gasping, legs shaking almost imperceptibly, and Adeline felt her heart shatter.

“Addie, I’m so sorry,” his every word sounding like it had been ripped from his throat, “I’m so sorry I couldn’t keep my promise.”

And with that, he, too, was gone, and Adeline’s last remaining hope had died with him.

Oh Reader, what could she do but cry? So she cried. She cried for Fabien, for Monsieur LeClair, for Madame Beaumont, for Michel Rousseau, for Old Lady Coralie, for every lost soul of Strasbourg, until only one remained- and only then did she cry for herself, dancing alone once more.

The tears still streamed down her face when Lord Vitus returned with only a small squadron the next day, a full week after Adeline’s dance had begun. Towering over them from atop his horse, Vitus called out to his men.

“Oh ho, what have we here? An entire village, destroyed by some sort of plague, it seems. What a tragic end… But look! It seems one still suffers. Let us put the poor thing out of its misery, shall we?”

The largest of their number stepped forward, an axe readied in his hands. An executioner, Adeline realized tiredly. He made his way towards her, gingerly maneuvering around the corpses littering the town square, and Adeline wished she still had the strength to huff out a laugh. To show respect for the dead, on the path to kill another? How utterly ridiculous! Without a sound, the executioner raised his axe above his head, and Adeline closed her eyes, prepared to meet her end.

“Wait!” Vitus’ whining cut through the air. “Bring her to me first! She has something of mine that I want back.”

The executioner shrugged, before lunging towards the unsuspecting Adeline and hefting her over his shoulder with a grunt. She struggled against him, as much as one can struggle with a body that refuses to stop dancing, but it made no difference- he was simply too strong. Within moments, she was set down before Lord Vitus.

“The shoes,” he demanded. “Hand them over.”

“Are you kidding me? All of this for some shoes?” Adeline whispered hoarsely. “Hundreds of people, an entire town, dead, because you couldn’t stand the thought of someone else wearing these stupid fucking shoes?”

Vitus sneered at her. “On the contrary- I’m killing you because of the ‘stupid fucking shoes,’ as you’ve so crassly called them. Everyone else was… shall we say, collateral damage.”

Adeline’s breath caught in her throat. Her village, her friends, her family- they weren’t even some kind of fucked-up punishment for her, to drive her mad with grief and guilt. They were just “collateral damage,” not even worth an afterthought in the mind of their murderer. Her rage boiled inside of her, and had Adeline been able, she would have killed the man herself just then.

“Oh no, look!” Vitus sounded so genuinely miserable that for a moment Adeline was taken aback. “You’ve gone and ruined them!”

She glanced down as Vitus gestured towards her shoes and saw it was indeed true. The once-pristine white was long gone; now the leather was completely stained through by her own blood.

Reader, do you know what she did then? Why, she did the only thing she could.

She laughed, Reader. She laughed for the first time in what felt like a lifetime, all her frustration and sorrow and fear and anger and fatigue welling up from within her as she faced this utterly ridiculous man. She laughed. And as Vitus’ disappointment turned to shock, then to an angry pout, she laughed even harder. Even the dance, for a moment, seemed to laugh with her, each shuffle taking on the tone of ha-ha, ha-ha.

Finally, Vitus had had enough. He struck her, clean across the face, and for a moment, the laughter ceased as she gasped in pain.

“You know, I think they look better this way,” she drawled after catching her breath. “The red really brings out my eyes.”

Lord Vitus, clearly having expected Adeline to fall to her knees and grovel for forgiveness (fat chance, she thought, even if I hadn’t been cursed), puffed up like a particularly unpleasant frog as he spluttered through some sort of retort. Even his stupid moustache seemed to puff up with him, Adeline noticed in tired amusement, as he finally settled on, “W-W-Well, I never!”

He turned away from her sharply and caught the eye of the executioner. Adeline’s stomach dropped as Vitus’ face returned to that arrogant smile. He looked back at her, malice gleaming in his eyes, and addressed her once more.

“I do soapologize, it seems that I have forgotten myself for a moment. I am, however, fully prepared to make it up to you. You see, I do, in fact, possess the antidote to your little ‘Dancing Plague,’ as it were, and I would be delighted to offer you the cure.”

Adeline couldn’t see it, but as she felt movement at her back, she knew what was about to happen. In one final act of defiance, she spat at Vitus, who squealed as he tried, and failed, to avoid it. He huffed once more as she laughed at him, before screeching his final command.

“A PERMANENT CURE!”

And with that, Adeline felt pain explode in her legs, near blinding in its intensity. For a moment, a scream overpowered the music, and it took a moment longer to realize the scream was her own. She blinked though unnoticed tears to look up -when had she fallen- at Vitus, but she couldn’t quite focus on him -or anything else. She felt so -tired sick- dizzy, and she wanted nothing more than to close her eyes and –die- rest. But the pain in her legs screamed for her attention, and as she dragged herself up, she realized why.

At its simplest, a cure is just a way to remove a problem. It doesn’t need to be as advanced as a vaccine, or as complicated as the witches’ remedies of old. In fact, Lord Vitus’ antidote was both exceedingly simple and remarkably effective.

The permanent cure for the Dancing Plague? Simply remove the problem.

Namely, the legs.

How strange, she thought, in that last moment of lucidity, as she stared at the legs- her legs- lying on the ground a few feet away. I almost expected them to keep dancing.

And with that, she fell, lifeless, to the ground.

But Reader- she did not die.

#look im still working on uploading this to ao3 but for now we're stuck like this #ill reconfigure this later once ive got that up. or maybe ill just make a new post. whichever is easier.#mechtober #the mechanisms #i cant believe im maintagging this but you know what im proud of it #my writing #also no im not late what are you talking about

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nicosbrainrot · 4 years ago

Text

here's something I wrote after talking to @kamiart about rin's fight in round 3 because I am full of love for rin & wanted to write an interaction for them <3

Ikuto was watching from the seats with the rest of his classmates. It was the third round of the sports festival and Rin was going up against Taishiro, both students in Sato sensei's class. The fight was a fast paced one, and it seemed like Rin could win it, depending on how much energy she had reserved, she had the advantage seeing that Taishiro couldn't use his quirk on her projectiles. Ikuto watched diligently, knowing that her quirk required moonlight and so she was running on a limited supply. She had faked out her last opponent by pretending to run out of energy, but after two whole fights she might actually be running low. Eventually she threw a kick at her opponent, which he quickly rewound and sent her flying. She wouldn't get up close unless she had to, this meant she was out of energy. The fight now could easily turn in Taishiro's favor but they locked onto each other, caught in a struggle with neither letting up. Suddenly Taishiro said something, not quite audible to the audience, but Ikuto could make out the word "dad," and he could see, even from the stands, something change in Rin's expression.

She said something, low and quiet, before shouting, "At least you have a father to fight for!" Her voice shot through the stadium, and she said something else, though still not quite audible, before shouting again, something about being able to do this on her own, and their surroundings quickly exploded into a bright flash of blinding light, but only for a moment.

Ikuto looked back at the arena after the blinding flash and saw as Rin stood there, staggering, and almost shot up from his seat when her body collapsed to the floor. Taishiro didn't seem to have done any damage, that was the result of her quirk, the result of her energy reserves being completely depleted. He watched as Miss Me quickly rushed into the ring, declaring Taishiro the winner and announcing that he would progress to the next round, as they brought an unconscious Rin off of the field and towards Recovery Girl's office.

After the crowd cheered and fell to a chatter, as it did between every round, Ikuto's thoughts began racing. Many students had been quite roughed up by the end of their fight, but none due to their own quirk. Well, some had overexerted themselves a bit, but they all ended up fine. Ikuto knew the nature of Rin's quirk, that she had an energy reserve that overlapped with her body's own natural calories, which it would cut into when her lunar energy had run out. If it was anything like he was imagining, and she was really on empty when that flash of light happened, she could be in pretty bad shape.

He quickly turned to Hoshizawa, who was sitting next to him on the bench. "I... I'm gonna go check on her, if that's okay."

"Oh yeah, sure." they said, seeming fine to be left on his own.

Ikuto got up out of his seat and headed down in the direction of Recovery Girl's office. He made his way down the hallway and peaked inside the room. Rin was now laying on the bed, still unconscious, Recovery Girl tending to her.

"Uh, excuse me." Ikuto spoke softly, and Recovery Girl turned around to face him. "I'm sorry to intrude, but..."

"You wanted to check on her?" she asked in her cheery tone.

Ikuto just nodded, stepping in from the doorway. He could see that her breathing was shaky, and his brow furrowed just slightly in worry.

"She isn't physically injured, but her body has depleted all its energy, she's overexerted herself. Sadly, I can't do anything to help her besides standard treatment." she told him.

Her quirk allowed her to help a person's body heal at a rapid pace but depleted the person's energy, which was the opposite of what Rin needed right now. He thought for a moment before turning to face the short nurse.

"I could get her something out of the vending machine." he suggested.

She smiled up at him. "Oh, that would be lovely, how sweet." she said, her chipper tone contrasting with Ikuto's monotone voice.

He nodded and quickly turned to leave, walking down the hall to one of the vending machines scattered around the building. He pulled out some money, which he kept loose in his pocket after Aito stole his wallet a few too many times and he got tired of asking for it back. He looked at all the drinks and decided on a bottle of fruit juice, it was sugary but not too processed, and he wasn't sure if she liked soda. He also got her a candy bar, the more she could eat after all this the better. He went back to the nurse's office, quietly walking inside and placing the food and drink on the table beside the bed.

Recovery Girl pulled out a bottle of medication, and Ikuto immediately remembered the bottle he saw near her bed when they were going through everyone's dorm rooms, it was heart medication. He looked over at Rin, who was still asleep on the bed, her breathing choppy. "Her heart, is it..." he started, not looking up from the bedridden girl.

"It's quick and irregular. I have this for her, but I can't give it to her until she wakes up." she said, setting the bottle down on the table.

Ikuto looked over to Recovery Girl. "Would you... like me to try and steady it?" he asked, unsure if she would trust him with that.

She was aware of his quirk, and thought for a moment. "If you're positive you know what you're doing." she said, a bit of hesitation in her voice.

"I do." Ikuto said calmly, and pulled up a chair next to her bed.

He sat down and placed his hand on her inner wrist. He could feel the irregularity in her pulse, and as he activated his quirk he could almost feel the pressure her heart was under. It wasn't unlike that of someone who was malnourished, the strain that puts on your heart. In fact, it was in that moment that Ikuto realized how thin she was, that she was underweight. His worry grew, because that only made the results of overexerting herself worse and far more dangerous. He made a mental note to check in on her eating if given the chance. However, right now he needed to focus, it wasn't difficult to slow her heart rate but steadying it took more concentration. He brought her heart rate down to a normal level, and kept it consistent. If he let go it would return to it's staggered pace, so he just sat there for a while, hand gently resting on her arm.

There was a television in the room silently playing footage of the current round, and Ikuto watched as the quiet battle took place on screen, taking note of any interesting strategies he saw. More and more times passed, and quite a few rounds came and went, but he was in no rush to leave.

After about an hour, Rin shifted slightly. Ikuto resisted his instinctual urge to pull away, not wanting to cause a jolt in her heart rate, and instead gradually let go of his quirk's hold on her, allowing her heart to return to it's irregular pace slowly. Recovery Girl quickly walked over and picked up the bottle of medication as Rin slowly woke up, and Ikuto let his hand fall down to his lap, getting a strange feeling from being disconnected after an hour sitting there holding pace for her.

Recovery Girl set her hand on Rin's shoulder as she slowly sat up, very groggy, holding a hand to her head. She blinked a few times, still exhausted, trying to reorient herself and remember what exactly happened before passing out. Recovery Girl handed her a glass of water and her medicine, which she took with a quiet "thank you" before turning to see Ikuto sitting near the bed.

His shoulders suddenly tensed up as he realized that she may think it's weird of him to have been here this whole time, seeing that they don't know each other very well, but tried his best not to let his worry show and looked up at her with as soft an expression as he could manage.

Rin's face showed a bit of surprise at the sight of someone in the room with her besides the nurse who she had seen just hours earlier. It took them both a moment of awkward silence before Ikuto finally spoke.

"How are you feeling? Are you alright?" he asked, a bit of worry in his voice.

"I... Yeah, I'm alright." she said. She felt exhausted but she wasn't horrible.

"You should eat something." he stated, reaching for the drink and candy bar to hand them to her. "Or uh, drink something... or I could get you something else, but you need something in your system after all that."

It was a bit strange to have this usually very quiet and reserved boy suddenly fussing over making sure she ate. She hesitantly reached out and took the now lukewarm drink and candy bar out of his hands.

"Th-thank you." she said quietly, not really looking him in the eyes.

She looked down at the candy bar in her hands for a moment before slowly unwrapping it and taking a bite. Ikuto just sat there, looking up at the match on the screen, but not really paying much attention to it, he just didn't want to stare at her while she ate.

When she finished the candy bar she realized just how hungry she actually was and silently wished she had another one as she opened the bottle of juice Ikuto had bought her and took a sip.

"I couldn't hear much of what you said during the match but..." he started, before turning to face her. "It was something about family, wasn't it?"

She slowly brought the bottle down from her mouth and swallowed nervously, remembering what exactly had triggered the outburst that landed her in this hospital bed. "Yeah... it was." she said, and for a moment Ikuto thought that was all she would say about it before she looked up at him and asked, "What is your family like, Maekawa-san?"

His eyebrows raised in surprise at the question, and he looked away for a moment to think. "I have a little brother." he said, not looking up from the floor. "He's a bit of a handful, really playful and likes to cause trouble, but he's a sweet kid." She could see a small smile on his face as he spoke.

"You sound like you care for him very much." she said softly, and he did, she could hear it in the way he spoke.

"I... I do." he said, looking as if he had just realized something. "I have to admit, I miss him since moving into the dorms."

There was a moment of silence, though not quite awkward, before she asked, "Y-your parents, what about them?" and there was curiosity in her voice.

He looked up at her, something in his expression that she couldn't quite place, and he hesitated before speaking. "They..." he started, before turning away from her again, looking back at the floor.

"They both have very different ways of showing that they care. My dad has... high expectations. He always says I can do better, wants me to be the best I can. And my mom, she thinks I'm more capable than I really am... and I don't want her to realize she's wrong." He looked back up at her and saw a strange expression on her face, and worried he had said something wrong. "Ah, I shouldn't be complaining. I love my family, they're not bad, I just..." He looked down for a moment before looking back up to meet Rin's gaze. "I don't want to let them down, you know?"

Rin looked him in the eyes for a moment before staring down at her hands, still holding the juice bottle she'd barely drank out of. "No... I don't know, actually." She hesitated for a moment. "I've... never had a family to disappoint."

Ikuto stiffened a bit, surprised, and his head tilted slightly to one side, questioningly, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and slight concern at what she had said.

She took this as a request to elaborate. "I... I grew up in a-an orphanage... and I never got adopted, s-so I don't have a family... and I don't think I ever will." she said in a soft voice, a hint of sadness, but mostly just a reluctant acceptance.

He let out a small sigh as he processed this, eyes not leaving Rin's tired but serious face, looking at her and suddenly realizing something. "You mean... you've done all this on your own?" he asked her, his voice slightly more gentle than usual.

Now it was Rin's turn to look confused. "W-what do you mean?" she asked.

"All of this, getting to UA, training to become a hero, you did all that... alone?" he asked, head leaning forward slightly, eyes looking up at her with a soft gaze, as if he were asking if she was okay.

"I..." she started, looking down at her hands for a moment. "I guess so..." She had never really stopped to think about it, everything that had gotten her to this point in her life. She tried to not look back.

Ikuto sat back in his seat and looked off to the side, thinking to himself. He had a great deal of respect for all of his classmates, but to get here without the support of a family was quite a feat, and he hadn't realized before just how driven Rin was. Despite her very quiet and somewhat sad demeanor, it was clear that she worked very hard to get here and was determined to achieve her goals.

Ikuto looked up at her, realizing he was lost in thought for a moment, and finally spoke. "Thank you for sharing this with me, Tsukikage-san. It's... truly admirable that you've gotten here on your own." he told her.

Rin looked over at him, surprised at the praise. "I-it's really nothing." she said, and she really didn't see it as much, it was just what she had to do, and she still had so far to go.

"But it isn't." he stated, surprised that she would say something like that. "You've done a lot, it's important to acknowledge the progress you've made."

She stared at him, thinking about his words carefully. He was right, she had done a lot, gone through so much hardship, all on her own, but it all seemed so small compared to what the future might hold for her. After all this, she wondered if she could make it the rest of the way.

He saw something shift in her expression as she looked at him. He could see worry on her face, as if she had been trying not to think about all of this and he had suddenly pulled it out of her. "I'm sorry, I- I'm sure it's been hard, but... you aren't alone anymore, you know." he started, desperately trying to comfort her but feeling very unsure of what to say. "We- if you ever need anything, anything at all, you can tell me... and I'll try my very best to help." He spoke to her with genuine care in his voice, and she knew he meant his words.

"I-" she started, but couldn't get anything out. She was touched by his kindness, but something felt bittersweet about it. She would be hesitant to reach out to her classmates for anything, but just knowing that she could, with at least one of them, was comforting. She almost felt tears stinging her eyes but held them back. She had wanted for so long to have a family, to feel loved and as though she belonged somewhere, to feel wanted. Yet here she was, after losing the third round foolishly, one of her classmates sitting by her side, worried about her. It had been so long since anyone was worried about her.

She turned away from him, almost ashamed that she didn't know what to say to him. "P-please don't worry about me, I'm fine, r-really." she muttered.

"I know." he said, causing her to look up at him in surprise. "You've made it this far, I know you're capable, but... my offer still stands." His voice softened at that last bit.

He said this so matter-of-factly, it almost puzzled her. She didn't need help, didn't want to be a burden, but... he seemed so sincere. Could this just be pity? No, she didn't hear any pity in his voice, in fact he spoke as if he were talking about something so simple. At that moment she didn't know what to feel or think.

"Do you not like the juice?" he asked, snapping her out of her spiralling thoughts before she even realized she hadn't responded. "You haven't drank much of it, I can get you something else."

"Oh…" She looked down at the bottle still in her hands. "N-no it's fine… thank you, though." she said softly.

Ikuto just let out a quiet "hm" as he leaned back, not really believing her but figuring it's best to just let it be. The two of them sat in silence for a while, another match on the television coming to a close as Rin slowly sipped her juice.

After a while Ikuto finally cleared his throat and began to stand up. "I uh, should probably let you rest, and get back to the stands." He turned to her once he was standing. "Unless you would like me to stay."

"N-no, it's alright." she said before hesitating for a moment. "Th-thank you for coming to check on me… You really didn't have to."

"Of course." he said, almost surprised that she would thank him. "I hope you recover quickly… Oh, I almost forgot." he said, quickly pulling out his phone. "I can give you my number, if you'd like, just in case."

She nodded, taking out her own phone, and the two exchanged information.

"There." he said, handing her phone back to her after writing his contact info in it. "If you need anything, you can let me know. Or just…" His demeanor shifted slightly, seeming a bit more timid. "If you wanted to hang out… I don't know."

"I'd like that." Rin said with a warm smile, and she could see his shoulders relax as she said that.

Ikuto couldn't help but smile softly at her. "I'll hopefully see you soon then. Take care of yourself, okay?"

"I… I will." she responded, and Ikuto then turned to leave.

"Also," he said, stopping in the doorway. "You can call me Ikuto, if you'd like."

"Okay, Ikuto-san." she said softly with a smile, and she could see a small smile on his lips as well as he nodded politely before turning and walking out the door.

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myleftpinkytoe · 4 years ago

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Frequent, severe headrushes are super weird, bc from the outside it LOOKS super freaky. It's always a fun time (sarcasm) when the uninitiated see a particularly bad one, bc from their perspective it goes like this (steps usually overlap slightly):

1. Me, blinking: "oh, um. Don't freak out"

2. Eyes go unfocused. I stop responding to things said to me

3. I reach for something sturdy, generally miss, then pitch alarmingly to the side as I claw ineffectually at whatever I reached for while falling to the ground

4. On my way down, I begin to shake and twitch uncontrollably

5. I get to the floor, where I sit for a few seconds, still twitching & shaking, then blink a few times. Optional: I begin to gasp for breath.

Which, from the outside, looks fucking insane! Several people have said "you just had a seizure!" (they're not seizures! I'm completely aware the whole time!).

On the inside, it feels like this:

1. Dizziness & tunnel vision. I now have 0-2 seconds to sit down or grab something before I lose the ability to do that in a controlled manner

2. Vision goes. If it's a bad one, hearing is also gone. I can still talk though, so I might say something like "im ok! This is normal! I'll be fine in a minute!" (if it's not REALLY bad, that is)

3. Balance goes. This has a big range of results, ranging from needing to lean against a wall/object/person, to suddenly sitting on the floor, to (my favourite :/) not being fast enough to react before my vision goes and looking like I'm clawing at the object bc I can't see it and I'm no longer 100% sure where it is in relation to my body any more and my fingers are shaking and I can't get a fucking GRIP ON IT. This can also lead to a slow slide to the ground, so like: unfocused eyes, clawing at the wall as I slowly collapse downwards. Best result is getting a firm grip on something then locking my knees and elbows so I don't brain myself during the next step

4. Muscle spasms! Usually happens as I'm falling! My limbs start twitching uncontrollably, which can make my slow, clawing descent look even more alarming! If I'm grabbing something, it also looks alarming!!! If I'm sitting on the floor, is ALSO looks alarming!!!!!

5. Like 5 seconds of waiting for it to pass, shaking uncontrollably, holding onto whatever I can for dear life, unable to see or hear anything, sometimes repeating "I'm OK! Just wait, I'm OK!" if I remember to breathe!

6. (Optional) vision clears and I begin gasping for breath bc sometimes I hold onto whatever I grab so tightly that I forget to breathe! You know when you brace against something and you hold your breath automatically? Yeah, hard to remember to breathe when everything is a spinny, purple-black-green mass of wooOOOAAAAAHHH FUCK

7. Things clear up. I stand up straight and apologize. Someone tells me to drink more water. I laugh awkwardly.

I've hurt myself like 2 times but I've fallen >100 so the track record isn't terrible! It almost always happens within 30s of standing up (although one time it was like 2 minutes later which was inconvenient bc I'd made it to a busy hallway :/), and it's worse if I'm tired, stressed, hungry, or dehydrated, but it also happens when I'm none of those things. It's worse if I've been sitting for a long time, but it can also happen after sitting for 2 minutes.

It's happened a few times when I'm still sitting and I yawn. One time, it happened when I was sitting with someone, and I was like "oh one second", and I folded forward and put my head on my knees to just shake it out, and the person I was with panicked and tried to grab me, and accidentally Kneed Me In The Head! That was a weird time bc like they KNEW I did this all the time so 🤷. School was a good time (sarcasm), bc 5 minutes between classes to get across the building meant I didn't have the luxury of standing up slowly and I fell over like 4 times a day while teachers were like "👀 u ok?"

Sometimes the head rushes are so mild I can mostly ignore them. If I'm walking down an empty hallway and my vision is like "goodbye" but my balance is mostly fine, I'll sometimes just keep walking, maybe list to the side slightly. I prooobably shouldn't do that, but if you're in a busy hallway with a lot of people and you suddenly stop, people will sometimes shove you! Which is annoying! Plus, ive only walked into someone/something while doing this like 3 times in my entire life so again not a terrible track record. It's alwaya fun to walk into someone who came around a corner, blindly grab them bc FUCK, then be like "oh sorry I couldn't see haha".

I've gotten tests done, I've gotten my heart checked, blood drawn, the whole shebang, and apparently I'm fine and just have, like, unusually low blood pressure? Although I haven't actually done that table tilt test, so who knows! It mostly doesn't interfere with my life too much (those 2 injuries happened when I was admittedly way more dehydrated than I should have let myself get), except for Freaking People Out. Honestly people insisting I go to the ER is way more inconvenient than like 90% of the episodes.

I dont really have a reason for posting this, except to maybe ask that people freak out less when it happens? Even if it WAS a seizure, you really should not grab people during an episode, and I've been hurt by people trying to help me more than anything else (those 2 times aren't including other people hurting me while trying help). If we have a close relationship, I might grab onto YOU to hold myself up, and you can definitely hold me back when I do that, but otherwise if I'm falling and shaking, then I can't really control the direction I go in and a SURPRISING number of people end up kneeing me while moving to try to catch me! Also, holding my head directly on a hard, flat surface is WAY more likely to hurt me than letting me hover/ put my own head on my arms so maybe don't force my head down! I don't know why people do that! It hurts!!! If anything, you could put your hand between my head and the hard surface, so I have a soft bumper to hit (tho I almost definitely don't need it tbh), but honestly getting into that position is more likely to smack me in the face so maaaybe just don't.

Oof. You know, I'm always treating this like no big deal, but laid out in a post like this, it DOES seem like a lot? Maybe once the pandemic calms down here I should go get another opinion 🤔

#health #head rush #POTS #i mean im not diagnosed with POTS #but POTS people and me have shit in common #low blood pressure #fainting #someone commiserate with me im tired of people just telling me to drink more water and patting themselves on the back for curing me

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ggomanii-fancy-you · 3 years ago

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@crystalclearmirror

Hi there, apologies for the delay in getting this done. I hope you are doing well when you see this ship. I’m also wishing that you are well during this pandemic (I mean it still kind of is a pandemic where I am, basically just stay safe love xx).

~BTS~ Taehyung

Now normally I would take longer considering which idol to ship someone with, in this instance I could only see the outcome of this ship going one way…with me choosing Taehyung. I genuinely feel like there are parts of your personality that overlap, out of all the members I believe that Taehyung would have the greatest understanding of your personality and motives. In some ways both you and Tae have a sense of being unfiltered with your thoughts and opinions, Tae’s personality has become more definitive over the years. He isn’t afraid to be himself or exert his own opinions, throughout this ship I saw a person confident in their motivations which is what I think would ultimately draw Taehyung to you. Initially this relationship would progress quite slowly, you might not even start dating until much later.

The first notable aspect of your relationship that I have to mention is the level of trust that the two of you seem to develop quite quickly, this is a result of your personal life experiences. Though you grew up in situations that were seemingly opposites, your perspectives are the same. Deep down you both show extreme amounts of devotion and care, yet you don’t always show it on a surface level. There is no sense of unpredictability, everything is meticulously calculated in your relationship which means that there is a very low chance of any type of disagreement occurring. You both are aware of each other’s goals and motivations, so you take to encouraging each other to achieve your dreams.

Taehyung has a very high opinion of you, he can see how hard of a worker you are, especially when he finds out that you are in two distinguished fields (you being an author and a law student). Though he doesn’t let status dictate who he falls in love with he is admirable of those who strive for success and subsequently achieve what they set out to do. It seems that in some way or another the two of you were meant to be in the spotlight, regardless of whether you actually wanted to be in it half of the time. This would also result in Taehyung being very protective of you, he knows how shy you can get around people and will always be very mindful of leaving your side in case you got overwhelmed.

Despite all the things he does to be the typical good boyfriend, you actually assist him in becoming much more laidback. You don’t even have to strive too hard in terms of making him feel calm and at ease, you do so just by being his girlfriend. Whenever you strive to make him happy and warm inside you often succeed. Another important thing to mention is that this is a very private relationship, even close friends will never truly understand the extent of your relationship. They don’t see a lot of the small gestures of kindness you share between each other, Taehyung is a very private person but I think this works very well with your personality. The last point I’d like to mention is that Taehyung is also a connoisseur of the arts, in the way that he is willing to indulge in the interests that you have such as visiting museums, he is also one that is very inspired by the stories of others even if he doesn’t openly admit it. Overall, you and Taehyung have a very unique connection to one another, in a lot of ways it seems otherworldly when you realise how deep and intuitive your relationship is.

#kpop ships #kpop matchups #written ships #bts #navy blue aesthetic

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inactive-shroomiehomie · 4 years ago

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SFW Alphabet - Sonny Carisi

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Sonny loves holding you anyway he can. He’s a big physical affection type of guy! Sitting casually in his lap on the couch, Sonny towering behind you with his arms hugging your shoulders from behind. He doesn’t like smooching or being too cuddly in public, but he just can’t stay away from you !

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

It doesn’t matter how long he’s known you, Dominick is a loyal friend. If he goes against you in anyway, he has a pretty damn good reason or it’s for your own good. If you’re in a bad mood, Sonny would come over and cook for you and you two would goof around until he had to go back home or until he passed out on your couch.

You are both night-time law students and you get to arguing over some study case you were both given for an assignment- and you out smart him. He starts laughing in disbelief and offers to buy you a coffee. Then you two are hanging out at the bar after classes, throwing darts and throwing back drinks.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

As previously stated, Carisi is a big ol’ snuggler. He’s also a personal heater when it comes to sleeping at night and it can be a blessing on those chilly New York nights.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Sonny + Cooking = ♥

Sonny + Cleaning= :/ (He’s a bit of a germaphobe, but he doesn’t know how to pick up after him self more than he should.)

You’ve talked about it before, and while you both agree bringing children into the world when their Dad would have to see and hear the things he does at work on a daily basis would be horrible, having a kid or two wouldn’t be horrible. Plus, Dominick is so great with children, especially babies. From his own nieces to Rollins’ two girls; He can quiet a screaming child in seconds and it mesmerizes you each time.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Face to Face. If you were committed enough to be in the relationship for however long, you should have the guts to end whatever it is to the other persons’ face.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Sonny would feel horrible anxiety about proposing to you. He definitely wants to be with you until you’re both worm food, but he’s been on the job long enough to see what happens to marriages when someone works this kind of job. But you’re in it for the long haul, and he just has to accept that.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

The human embodiment of a golden retriever is the perfect way to describe Sonny. Loyal, sweet, patient. But if you betray their trust it’s suuuuper hard to get it back.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

When Carisi hugs you, it’s like being bundled up tight for winter, but not suffocating. His chest is firm and comfortable and no matter the hug type, he always draws circles on your lower back, just to make you smile.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

You were actually the first to say it. It was an over-excited slip, but you still meant it 100%. And unbeknownst to know, Carisi wanted to say it week two of knowing you.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

He’s not a jealous of possessive man. The most jealous he’s behaved is whenever he’s in a clingy mood and you’re at work or hanging out with Rollins and Olivia without him. But he’s still very protective of you and watches your back.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Carisi loves to kiss the top of your head or the back of your neck. Nothing weird, just a quick peck. The back-of-your-neck kisses would sometimes release a giggle from you and it would end up with him pinning you down and tickling you ‘til you cried.~

But you love to kiss his cheeks and hands. It’s hard to describe, but wanting to kiss him on the cheek as the same mental effect as a crow wanting to bring a bright, shiny thing back to the nest for it’s mate.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Again, Carisi is an amazing person with children. He’ll make an amazing father one day.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

He’s a morning bird. Always up before you with coffee or sometimes food if he had time. But he always made sure- unless it was urgent business- he would wake you up with a sweet his on the cheek or gently rocking you until you came too.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Unless it’s a day off, you rarely get to see him. (ADA or Detective) But on the nights where he gets home early, you both talk about your days and how they went. Dinner, snuggling on the couch, and sometimes you’ll even show him some of your personal projects you’ve been working on.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Along side being the prefect cook and great with kids, he’s a chatter box. He doesn’t just blurt out things weird like, “I used to spank it to Opera 24/7.” On the first day or anything. Just threw things into casual conversation or when you asked. But if anyone said something about a good home cooked meal, he wouldn’t shut up about the 5 different foods his mama used to make for hi.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He works for a sex crimes division. You have to do something pretty horrible to beat that. You’ve had your fair share of fights though. Between his Italian blood and whatever you were arguing about, he could be stuck on an argument for longer than you would be.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Maybe golden retriever wasn’t an accurate description of what he was. More so like.... a wiener-dog-chihuahua mix. Dorky, but brain still smart and ticking. R Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Yet somehow, he can’t find his damn phone charger.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Sonny knows you can take care of yourself, but being a part of the NYPD, he'a naturally protective. If you need help getting away from a guy Carisi is on you in seconds, flashing his gun and badge.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Carisi spoils you. He's usually the one to cook when you two have time for dinner and there's never not homemade sweets in the house.

But on your anniversaries, Carisi would make you breakfast in bed and the two of you would make sure to take off from work for the day. Lounging and enjoying one another's company until Carisi would send you to the grocery to get dinner supplies and he can have time to decorate the apartment.

Your favorite scented candles, light pink rose petals, soft music. All the beautiful cliche shit that's just so cheesy and sweet enough to make your heart melt.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Your schedules tend to not overlap. So when he gets home or gets ready for work, he will sometimes leave his dirty laundry around the house and his filthy dishes in his sink.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

His hair, yes. Otherwise, Sonny couldn't give two shits what he looked like. And you coupdn't either.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

"Before you I felt like used tea bag. Already fulfilled my purpose with nothing else left. Then you came around and gave me new purpose. Instead of tea, you made me into a bath bomb. Or a soap scrub."

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Not being able to see him in person for a few days at time or before 11:30pm should be something his partner should be able to deal with. And being able to appreciate his friends and family like he does.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Carisi REFUSES to admit, but the backs of his knees are super ticklish. Sometimes when you're cuddling, you "accidentally" brush your feet up against the back of his knee and he practically falls off of the couch spasming. It's the cutest thing.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Carisi would definitely be a sleep talker. He'd also be the person that if you tried to get up without him, he would hold onto you tighter in his sleep. You think he may be awake sometimes when he does that, but Sonny neither denies or admits that to being true.

#law and order special victims unit #law and order svu #sonny carisi #law and order x reader #peter scanavino #sfw alphabet #fluff #dominick sonny carisi #sonny carisi oneshot #sonny carisi x reader #dominick carisi x reader #law and order special victims unit oneshot

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mywonuderful · 4 years ago

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Not So Cold-Hearted Pt.25

Summary: Y/N, a member of a popular newly debut girl group and Wonwoo has what some may call a relationship with emotional ambivalent. Will their relationship remain cold-blooded or will they finally come to an agreement and become something more?

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x Reader

A/N: Hello everyone! I’m finally back after my first semester! I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas holiday and that I deeply apologize for the extremely delayed update. I’m currently on my winter break before the second semester so I’ll try my best to update ASAP during my break. As always, if anyone is interested in being added into the taglist for this series, please feel free to send in a ask or message me!

masterlist

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

You scanned through the stacks of boxes of supplies when your eyes landed on the box with the label ‘cardboard cup holders’ on the edge of the top shelf. You tippy toed to reach the top but had to use. Letting out a grunt, you tried again and again but failed every time. You hopping as your hand got a quick grip of the box and pulled it outward. You did this again as it shifted outward every time with every hop. You were already out of breath from hoping and pulling but with the last hop, the box finally came out of the top shelve, but also your hands as the shelf shook. You caught it as you tumbled backwards before you fell, as some boxes on the the shelf fell. You heard rapid footsteps before Wonwoo appeared at the entrance of the storage room and rushed to your side.

“Are you okay?’ His eyes enlarged as they scanned over you body for any injuries. Your grip was tightly around the box as you let out a soft chuckle. “I got it.” You breathlessly whispered. Wonwoo didn’t say anything as he got back up with a small sigh and picked up the boxes that have fallen. They both of you worked in silence as you would glance over at him time to time, seeing him wipe the counters and coffee machines.

‘What’s with the sudden change of mood?’ You thought to yourself as your cleaned the kitchen and wiped the cutlery. You were finally finished with everything as you headed to the lockers where you saw Wonwoo taking off his apron. You quietly walked to your locker beside him as you do the same.

“You shouldn’t overwork yourself.” You heard him speak behind his opened locker door as you stopped at your moments. “I don’t know what you’re saying, I’m fine.” You replied as your folded your apron. “Stop acting all strong and tough.” He closed the locker door, facing you. “Can’t you see I’m-” “You’re injured and you’re not fully recovered.” His voice was stern as his eyes looked down at yours. “What if I just don’t want to show my weakness?” you scoffed as you wore your jacket. He rolled his eyes. “But you don’t have to push yourself to prove others you’re fine.” he said as you closed your locker before meeting his eyes. “I’ve been in the hospital and in the dorm for the past 8 months without stepping outside. I feel so locked in and suffocated that I can’t do anything. Do you know how useless I feel whenever I see my members leave for practices or performances where they have to cover for my parts and work twice as hard to fill my spot? I’m not trying to prove anything to anyone, Wonwoo. I’m trying to prove to myself that I’m not nothing for the past 8 months and that I’m healing.” You replied before loosening your hair from the updo its in. “It wouldn’t matter to you anyways.” You hung your bag over your shoulder before walking pass him, only to be stopped by his hand around your arm.

“Wait.” there was heavy silence between the two of you as neither of you moved. His hand was lightly gripped around you arm but for some reason, you didn’t fall back your arm. It felt nice. “I’m sorry.” you turned around to look at him as he hung his head low. He loosened his grip around your arm. He slowly lifted his head before looking into your eyes with sincere apologizes. You’ve never seen his eyes so soft, making you melt into them deeper and deeper by the second. “It’s okay.” You managed to bring yourself together as you looked to the side. The two of you stood faced to faced, in awkwardness, not knowing what to say after the apology. “Well then, I’ll be going then.” “Y/N!” His voice made you stop at your steps as you head him walk in front of you. “There’s somewhere I want to bring you.”

- a few days ago -

“I’m ordering take-out! Is there anything-” Dino’s sentence was cut of by the orders of his members overlapping each other. He started looking back and forth, trying to listen in to every of their orders. “Just type it down.” Jeonghan lazily said while lying on the floor. All the boys had no personal or group activities that day as they took the chance to just stay at home and be homebodies for the day. “I’ll take a hamburger.” Wonwoo added his order as Dino nodded before heading to his room to call in the orders. The boys were scattered in the living room, either chatting or playing on their phones. “Hey hyung, did you visit Y/N yet?” Minghao asked after he finished his race of KartRider with Wonwoo and a few others. “No, not yet.” He restarted another game, focusing his attention in his race “Well, are you going to pay her a visit? She’s probably at her dorm, knowing that her members and manager won’t allow her to live the house until she’s fully recovered.” Minghao laughed as he drifted his vehicle on an sharp turn. “Maybe you should bring her to your favorite spot.” Minghao randomly suggested, throwing Wonwoo off as he ended up placing second.

“You mean the spot?” Jun lowered his phone and looked at Wonwoo with widen eyes. Wonwoo lets out a sigh as he fell back on the cool wooden flooring. “Even we haven’t been there....” Hoshi pouted. Minghao looked down on his members, trying to figure out what he’s feeling. “What do you say? Maybe you can set up a little picnic and-” Minghao started giving out ideas, only to be cut off by the rest of his members. “And then maybe way the sunset with her!” “And then see the night skies and stars-” “She might get cold during the night and then you can take off your jacket and place it over her shoulders-” “And then the two of you will face each other, inches about as your eyes travel down her lips-” “As you look up, you see her eyes flutter close and you slowly move closer to her lips unt-” All the boys started acting out their imagination as they started fanboying over the possibility from their emotionless and cool member

“HELLO? AH HELLO MR. BOSA. OH NO, IT’S JUST REALLY LOUD WHERE I AM SO I CAN’T REALLY HEAR YOU PROPERLY, LET ME MOVE SOMEWHERE MORE QUIET.” Wonwoo’s phone started ringing as he quickly answered it, never feeling more thankful to have a phone call come in at the right time. He shot all his members death glares as he stood up before walking down the hallway “You sound like you’re quite busy. I apologize for interrupting your schedule.” “No worries. I’m not busy at the moment. I’m just with my members.” Wonwoo still felt his cheeks heated from his members’ extreme imagination. “I’m just calling in to see if you’ll be busy in the next couple of days? Ms. Bosa and I might need to go out to pick up some new supplies but we won’t know until the day of. Is it possible for you to step in while we’re gone? We’ll call in a couple of hours before we leave so it’s not too last minute.” “For sure. Just call in and I’ll head over.” “Thank you so much Wonwoo. We were planning on calling Y/N too see if she’s available since she’s been discharged from the hospital- say, have you seen or visited Y/N since?” He questioned as Wonwoo falls into guilt from what he did the last time he spoken to you. “U-Uh, no I haven’t.” He stuttered upon his words as he heard a chuckle on the other side of the call. “You haven’t as in you’re too scared to visit her or what?” he remained silent, not knowing what to say in such awkward situation. “Alright, I’ll stop teasing you. Thanks for the last minute help Wonwoo.” Wonwoo hung up and lets out a sigh

“Was it the cafe?” He turned around and saw Seungcheol leaning against the wall. "Huh? Something like that.” “You don’t sound too happy about it.” Seungcheol questioned “No, it’s just that Mr. Bosa called to see if I work come into work in the next couple of days.” “And...?” Wonwoo’s eyes shifted to meet his hyung, confused on whether he’s just questioning or he heard the whole phone conversation “And he asked if I visited Y/N recently.” He ended up explaining. “See? Even the whole world knows you haven’t visited Y/N!” the leader dramatically exclaimed. “Okay, okay. I’ll pay her a visit in a few days.” Wonwoo lowly whined as he ran his hand through his hair and walked into his room before falling onto his bed, arm over his forehead.

‘I should really apologize to Y/N for what I said back then shouldn’t I. But it’s not like I can do much.’ He finds himself tossing and turning, fighting between his thoughts as he finally came to an conclusion on what to do.

- end -

- earlier in the day -

Wonwoo got up earlier than usual, feeling a little fidgety has he had a special plan today. He quickly got cleaned up before packing up some blankets, extra sweaters/hoodies and some warmers, stuffing them into his duffle bag. It was still quite earlier in the morning but majority of his members where wide awake, and extremely energetic which was no surprise to him. He strolled out of his room, somewhat in a hurry before knocking on one of his member’s door.

“Joshua hyung?” he turned the nob and found his fellow member gaming with his headphones on. He saw him awake at this odd hour as he brought down his headphones, looking at him in a confused manner. “What’s up? And why are you awake so early? Don’t you normally wake up in the late afternoon during our free day?” Wonwoo looked around the room, not knowing how to reply. “Uh... you know that picnic bag you bought online? Could I borrow it?” He asked as Joshua raised his eyebrow. “Yeah sure. Are you going somewhere?” Wonwoo mentally groaned “You could say that.” He kept his answer short. “So, where is it?” “It’s somewhere in the storage or laundry room.” He said with a pause afterwards. “You know what, I’ll get it for you.” He took off his headphones and walked out of his room, Wonwoo following behind, sensing something off. He followed pass the open area of the living room and kitchen where to his surprise all his members where. Joshua came to a stop in the middle.

“*ahem* I have a special announcement to make.” the boys turned to face him standing in the middle. Wonwoo, who caught on the disaster that was about to happen, hastily ran up to him “Josh don’t-” “WONWOO IS FINALLY ASKING Y/N ON A DATE.” the words already left his lips. Wonwoo ran up beside him where all the members shifted their attention to him, exchanging shocked expressions before screaming in unison “Look! Let me explain!” Wonwoo frantically tried to explain but his members were clearly distracted by their celebration “Okay, okay, lets have Wonwoo explain to us his plan. Walk us through every detail. Do you need visual examples? Seungkwan and I are born for this moment, just give us a cue and we’ll reenact for you.” Dokyeom said after their session of cheering. Wonwoo stood there, lost in words before shaking his head, finding the right word to explain without having his members throw another celebration. “I’m going to apologize to Y/N.” He stated as confusion were plastered across their faces. “Apologize? Why? Did something happen between you and Y/N within the past 8 months?” Mingyu asked out of the blue. “You could say that.” He rubbed his hand behind his neck, feeling a little embarrassed at himself. He looked to see the faces of his members and saw Minghao looking at him with a small smile and nod, telling him it’s the right thing to do. “I’ll take her to my spot and apologize to her. That’s it.” His members slowly nodded, understanding his actions. After taking the picnic blanket from Joshua, he went back into his room, changing into clothes to head out to prepare the set up when his phone vibrated as an incoming phone call.

“Wonwoo speaking.” “Hello? Ah, Wonwoo! How are you?” Mr.Bosa voice was heard across the line with Ms.Bosa’s voice in the background “I’m doing good, and you?” “I’m doing great. I was wondering if you could run the store as I head out with my wife?” “Um...” his traveled to his duffle bag on top of his bed. “Yeah I can step in for a bit.” “That’s great! Wait hold on- what? you already called her? Well, I’m calling him now. No, it’s okay, they haven’t seen each other in a while either way.” He somewhat hears the conversation between the couple, not putting much thought into it. “Sorry about that, Woo. Yeah, that’ll be awesome! You guys can close the store earlier if business is slow since we aren’t expecting much today either way. Thank you again!” He ended the call before staring back at his bag, wondering how his plan will go.

‘You guys?’ he thought to himself as changed his clothes for a more comfortable wear to work and headed out, bringing along his duffle bag.

Wonwoo was cleaning the counters of the coffee machines as he hummed to the music being played throughout the cafe as his pondered about to do know with what he had planned. He originally wanted to set up everything before visiting you bringing you to his spot but know that things aren’t going out as he wanted, he tried to think of something else when he heard the door open as the bell chimed.

“Welcome to Espresso Love Caf-” his words were cut off as he saw your figure, standing by the entrance, looking just as surprised as you were. None of you exchanges words as you walked to the back of the store as his eyes followed you, still shocked by your sudden appearance.

The two of you stood faced to faced, in awkwardness, not knowing what to say after the apology. “Well then, I’ll be going then.” “Y/N!” His voice made you stop at your steps as you head him walk in front of you. “There’s somewhere I want to bring you.” You looked up to him, trying to see if this was one of his little pranks. But to your surprise, his eyes were softly looking down at yours, almost if he was sincere about it. “What do you mean?” He looked away from you, biting on his lip “You’ll see.” And with that, he took a hold of your wrist, locking the store from behind as the both you walked to wherever he was taking you. Your steps followed from behind as you took in the image of his broad back before landing on the duffle bag that was hung on the other side of his shoulder, questioning what could be. The both of you ended up in a comfortable silent, walking down the sidewalk of a road on a hill. “Isn’t this the place....” familiarity hits as the you recall that time when you were humming while looking out on the view. Wonwoo lets out a soft smile before heading in between two fences and onto a rough path into small forest. “Why do I feel like I’m voluntarily being kidnaped.” You nervously laughed as you walked deeper into the woods, Wonwoo’s hand still around yours. He didn’t say anything and continued walking, making you feel even more uneasy. “Hey, say something.... You’re making me feel uncomfortable.” You accidently tripped on branch, making you fall forward as you felt his grip around you wrist tighten as he pulled you. He quickly turned around, your head hitting on his chest.

“S-Sorry.” You quickly lifted your head and his grip loosened. “We’re almost there.” He turned and started walking until the end of the forest, leading to an opened field with flowers that outlooks the city. “We’re here.” He turned around anticipating your reaction. “Wow...” Your jaw dropped as you slowly walked, looking around. Wonwoo dropped his bag down on the middle of the field and took out a picnic blanket, setting it out. “What are you doing?” “Setting up a picnic.” He said and started bringing things out of his bag. “Aren’t you going to sit down?” He looked up at you as you stood there, in confusion. You blinked a couple of times before nodding, taking a seat beside him. You both stare out on the evening sky that displayed beautiful shades of red, orange, yellow and pink, making you feel relaxed and at ease as you pulled your knees to chest, letting out a sigh. “This view just clears the mind and takes away all the worries.” You hummed. Wonwoo, who was sitting beside with his legs crossed and his hands supporting behind stared out at the view. “Y/N.” He sudden called your name. Your lifted you head from your knees, turning to face him as his eyes darting away from yours. “I’m sorry.” Your eyes widen from his apology. “I’m sorry for what I said back at the hospital and what I said today...” He trailed off at his words. He couldn’t look you in the eyes, and started look down at his fingers, playing with them in nervousness. “I didn’t mean the words I said.” He bit his lip before finding the courage the look at you. You stared at him, trying to find the words to say.

“It’s okay.” you said after a period of silence. “I know you only meant well. I know I can be arrogant sometimes and overestimate myself, making a fool out of myself.” He quietly listened as you sighed and looked back out at the view. “Your words, it stayed with me for a while. In a way, it brought sense to me that I’m human too and that I have my limits also. So thanks, thanks for bringing some sense to me when I needed it.” You smiled. It was true that his words were harsh at first but as time past, you realized that what he said was only because he cared and it was his way of caring which is something that is hard for him. “This is my favorite spot.” you tilted your head and looked over at him. “I always find myself coming here whenever I’m full of thoughts or worries or just need some air.” “So like your secret hide-out?” “You could say that.” The both of you chuckled before silence fell again.

“You know, for the past couple of months, it was extremely hard for me. I went through a roller coaster of emotions, feeling like nothing and useless to my members. It’s difficult seeing them needing to work harder to fill in my empty spot and that I couldn’t do anything but sit and watch. I fell into a darkness, hiding from my members because they already have so much on their plate with my absence. It’s like I don’t even know who and what I am anymore.” You stared out. Wonwoo looked at you, hearing your difficulties brought shock to him. Though you may be quiet, you were known to be uplifting, bright and optimistic to your fans, members and even the boys so hearing this was sure a surprise to him. “Sometimes fighting with myself and having everything bottled up can be tough sometimes, you know?” Wonwoo shifted closer to you, with soften eyes. “Sometimes I just want to scream, give up and just stop everything.” He slowly lifted his hand over your head, thinking over his actions if this is okay. ”Sometimes I just want someone to pat-” His hand lowered, patting your head as you stopped at your words, at surprise but didn’t turn to look at him. Wonwoo lightly patted your head as you tried your best to blink back the tears foaming in your eyes. “-Sometimes I just want someone to pat my head, telling that I did a good job and that I’ll be okay. But then again, I don’t want to be a burden.” You finished off, with your voice wavering.” “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were going through this.” You felt guiltiness in his voice. “I....I don’t know what to say....” you looked at him as he stopped patting your head. “You’re always smiling. Whether it be with your fans or members. You’re just.... always smiling brightly.” He mumbled the last part, making you giggle. “But you shouldn’t feel burden. You and your members are like a family, no? I’m sure they’re just as worried as you are. But at the same time, I’m sure they’re so proud of you that you’re getting through this and that you’ll come back stronger than ever.” You looked up at him, meeting his eyes. “Well... At least for me, I know you’ll going to come back stronger than ever.” You broke out into a smile as you felt your heart glow. “It’s been a while since I saw you smile like this.” His leaned towards you as you closed your eyes. You felt his light touch, brushing the hairs out of your face from the evening breeze. You opened your eyes as he straight right into yours, feeling a tingling sensation between the two of you. It’s always as if the both of you snapped back to reality and he quickly jerked his hand back as you sit back straight, looking away from each other. “S-So... Do you bring your members here as well?” You asked, trying to find a new topic to talk about. “No. You’re the first.” Your heart started racing. “This is the place I wanted to bring you. I thought it’ll help with relieving some stress and all. It’s a peaceful quietness.” He explained as you nodded. “Thanks for bringing me here, Wonwoo. This has definitely took the weight off my chest. After saying everything that’s been on my mind and watching the sunset, I feel soo much lighter and refreshed.” You smiled. “That’s a relief.” The sun was almost done setting as the both of you cherish the last bits staring out into silence. For some reason, it felt like you were both able to connect through the silence, making you feel a sense of home.

“Are you feeling hungry?” He asked, as the night sky started to fill. “Very.” He chuckled as he unzipped his duffle bag, bringing out a stack of containers and opening it. It was filled with side dishes and dishes that you automatically knew was made by his aunt. “My aunt came to drop off some dishes yesterday so I decided to bring it here. I hope you don’t mind that it’s not fresh and all.” “Not at all. You know sometimes food eaten the next day is more delicious.” You smiled as he passed you utensils the both of you started eating, as he picked up some side dishes and putting it on your bowl of rice. You giggle before doing the same to him. After dinner, you stretched out your arms over your head, letting out a long sigh. Wonwoo was laying down beside you, looking at up at sky. “Lie down. You can see the stars.” He patted the spot beside him as you scooted over before lying down. “Have you star gazed before?” “I’ve studied it a bit out of curiosity but never really done it in real life. It’s difficult seeing the stars in a city.” You saw Wonwoo smile in the corner of your eyes. “You can see the big dipper here.” Your eyes started wandering, trying to trace the stars for the shape. “It’s over there.” “Where?” “There.” he pointed up but you could seem to find it. “There?” you pointed, trying to following his direction. “No, there. Do you see it?” He took a hold of your wrist, tracing the shape. Your eyes looked at him in shock. “I-I see it.” You stuttered. “Oh! and that’s the little dipper!” You excited pointed at it, smiling widely.

You sat back up, taking it a sip of the warm coffee as goosebumps started growing on your skin from the night breeze. You shivered a bit, scolding yourself for not bringing a jacket. Wonwoo got up as well, digging something in his bag before handing you his sweater. “I brought it just in case.” You took it. “It seems like you need it.” You hesitated at first, deciding if it was the right thing to wear it or not. “Thanks.” You put it over your head, struggling to find the holes for the arms. You heard Wonwoo laugh before guiding your arm through the sleeves and pulling it down your head, making your hair all friction and static from the inside. He started laughing from the sight of your hair going in all directions. You look at him, in confusion, laughing along even though you didn’t know the reason. “You hair is all static.” He started patting down your hair with a smile. You cheeks started tinting pink, but thankfully it was dark even to hide your blushing face. “It’s huge on you.” You lifted your arms seeing that the sleeves were covering you hands. “It’s alright.” You mumbled. The two of you remained quiet, taking sips of coffee while exchanging short conversation here and there, enjoying and silent presence of one another.

“What time is it?” You questioned, wondering how long you’ve been here for. Wonwoo pulled out his phone, showing you the time as you eyes widen. “We’ve been here for that long?!” You took out your phone and saw ‘13 missed calls.’ “Looks like your members are worried about you.” He must’ve saw, making you embarrassed. “Maybe we should head back before they call the police reporting you kidnapped.” He got up, offering you a hand. You grabbed onto it as he pulled you up before you helped up clean up. “I mean if you think about it, you did kidnapped me in a way.” You spoke as the two of you walked back to your dorms. Your shoulder would brush against his arm time to time, making your heart flutter. “In my defense, you didn’t do anything. So you involuntary agreed” You laughed, nodding your head. “You have a point. I’ll give you that one.” You reach the street of your dorms, feeling a little disappointed for some reason. “Thanks for today Wonwoo. It really means a lot to me.” You stopped and turn to face him. You were a few houses away from your dorm but you didn’t want to leave just yet. “No worries. I felt kind of bad not visiting you while you were in the hospital.” He rubbed his hand behind his neck, looking away, feeling ashamed. “I don’t blame you.” You shrugged your shoulders as he raise his eyes from the ground. “Guess, I’ll have one more reason to hold something against you.” He eyes widen before the two of you laughed. “Today was memorable though. I got to see a new side of you and I’m.... I’m thankful for that.” You could see his face blushing from the dimmed street lights. “I could say the same to you.” He smiled. He opened his mouth, about to say something when his phone rang. He pulled it out, as the caller ID showed one of his member’s name. “Hello?”

“So are the both of you going to just stand there and melt into each other’s eyes or are you going to go home? My storage is running out on my phone and Hoshi won’t stop narrating this scene, it’s killing me.” Mingyu’s voice was heard on the line with Dokyeom’s and Dino’s singing background music in the back. The both of you looked forward, seeing his dorm’s window opened with Mingyu holding a selfie stick and the heads of the boys, popping out. He ended the call behind stuffing his phone back into his pocket. “I’m never going to hear the end of this when I get home. Are you down for a late night runaway?” He questioned as you chuckled. Just then, your phone started ringing. “I’m almost home.” “We can clearly see that. But the question is IF you’re going to come home because I think you’re too occupied, swimming into your lover boy’s eyes.” You saw your members sticking out their heads of the entrance. You turned to look at Wonwoo with panicked eyes. “So, about that late night runaway suggestion....” The both of your broke out into a huge laughed, cherishing the last bits of the moments before hiding home.

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peaceoutofthepieces · 5 years ago

Text

Sink Or Swim

tag list: @cleocc @feeling-kinda-so-so @hopelessromanticvirgo @dreamy-slytherin @adora8 @lockerfivethreefive @painfully-oblivious @poeticinemaa @jjustonemorething @saraben00 @wedarkacademia @coolguyssyndrome @hischbabe @suckerforsobbe @tayspots @starmansander @theah0lt @zoenneforever @invisibleme @chibibanane

~^~

Monday, 12:03

Song: Petit Biscuit - Sunset Lover

Lucas scrambles out of his chair as soon as the teacher dismisses them, three minutes after the bell signals they should be allowed to leave. His stomach had started grumbling embarrassingly a few minutes into the class, and he’d tried to muffle it for the following half an hour. He’s pretty sure no one had noticed, though, or they’d at least been kind enough not to give him any funny looks, but he’d still spent the class with his head down, trying to ignore the vague dizziness there.

He may still be avoiding his father, just a little, and it may have led to him skipping out on breakfast.

He’s anxious now to get up and leave, shoving his books halfway into his bag and shaking it to get it zipped. He tosses the strap over his shoulder and cringes at the screech of his chair as he pushes it back under his desk. He shrugs his bag higher onto his shoulder and slips through the desks and lingering students to rush out the door, hand pressed to his stomach and taking a deep breath to stave off the small head rush. He only makes it two steps out of the door, however, before crashing into someone and stumbling back.

Hands reach out to steady him, one lightly taking hold of his arm, as a very familiar voice says, “Shit, sorry.”

Lucas whips his gaze up to find Jens standing in front of him, fixing his own backpack as he keeps his hand on Lucas’s arm until he steadies. He looks much the same as he had at the party, though he’s switched his tee and jacket combo out for a heavier red hoodie, still paired with tight blue jeans. His eyes are just as bright as they meet Lucas’s. When he takes Lucas in, a bright smile spreads over his face and Lucas’s heart flutters in recognition.

“Hey, Utrecht,” Jens says cheerfully. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Uh,” Lucas stutters, head suddenly feeling lighter than before. Then he smiles slightly. “I would say the same, but honestly, I’m not that surprised. I’m starting to feel like you’re stalking me.”

It has the unexpected effect of making Jens blush. He rolls his eyes just the same, pulling a face at Lucas. “Says the one who went looking for me first.”

Lucas works very hard to not let a blush of his own form, but his cheeks feel a little warm. Still, he doesn’t really think he should be embarrassed. He’d seen Jens yesterday. Typing and stopping. Typing and typing and stopping again. He’d been trying to pluck up the courage to text the other boy, himself, when he’d first noticed it, and then Jens had stopped for longer, and Lucas had attempted to draft something. Had considered teasing him. Then the typing bubble appeared again, and he froze up. And waited. And nothing happened. “You weren’t that hard to find.”

Jens’s smile widens. “Neither are you, apparently. I’m surprised we never ran into each other before. Especially if you’re friends with Amber and Luca.”

Lucas huffs a small laugh, smirking. “I’m pretty sure Luca was trying to avoid letting me run into you, actually.”

“Yeah it did kind of seem like that, didn’t it,” Jens laughs. The sound sends warmth sweeping into Lucas’s stomach. “She’s just worried I’d steal you away. Which is fair enough, I guess.”

Lucas raises his brow, heart thumping a little faster. He’s a mess. “Why?”

“Well, I am kind of hoping to steal you away,” Jens grins, “as long as that’s okay with you.”

“Oh,” Lucas says, eloquently. He’s not sure what to make of that. Now that he’s completely sober, and stood in a crowded hallway, it doesn’t seem as easy to interact with Jens. He feels a little out of his element, and a little awkward, and a lot obvious.

Really, how is he supposed to react to that?

Jens’s face falls as a sudden insecurity seeps in. “Unless you already have plans, of course.”

Lucas’s eyes widen. “No,” he blurts, then gives a small, nervous laugh. “I mean—I mentioned how I don’t really have any friends, right?”

His heart melts as Jens softens. He looks different, in person, to what he does in the vlogs. There’s simultaneously a more aloof and gentler air about him, something about his presence that makes Lucas feel twitchy and comfortable all at once. It may possibly have something to do with the fact that he is both stunningly beautiful and surprisingly kind, all at once. It may have something to do with the way he looks at Lucas, like he’s something that actually should be seen.

“Then, do you want to come with me and hopefully change that? My friends can be dumb, but I think they’re smart enough to like you. Robbe will, at least, I think, and Aaron kinda likes everyone, and Moyo doesn’t show it as much but he’ll like you, too. Trust me.”

Lucas shouldn’t really trust him. Barely knows him. He wants to go with him all the same.

He really is a mess.

“Okay, Antwerp,” he waves a hand. “Lead the way.”

Jens grins and nods his head down the hall. Lucas turns around and follows him, sticking close as they wind through the mass of students. The corridor is alive with chatter, students lingering at lockers and bustling around them, but it doesn’t quite cover up the rumble of Lucas’s stomach. He stiffens just slightly, hoping, but Jens squints over at him, lips slowly curving up further. Lucas elbows his side and shushes him without looking over, though he stops walking. “I was actually going to go get some food in the cafeteria.”

Jens stops with him and raises a brow. “The cafeteria? Have you actually tried the cafeteria food?”

Lucas slowly shakes his head.

“Okay,” Jens snorts. “Let’s go then, I’ll tell you what’s safe and what isn’t.”

It’s an offer that sends Lucas’s heart fluttering, and he’s unable to stop his lips from twitching up in another smile. He has been having a rather uncomfortable time attempting to adjust to this new environment, and it feels a lot easier with Jens by his side. He’s too focused on how easily their steps sync up and how they’re so close their elbows keep accidentally bumping together to wonder if anyone’s looking at him. He wouldn’t even care if they were, not with how Jens is looking at him, with a bright and easy smile, posture relaxed and natural. He doesn’t hold any of the same tension as Lucas, none of the familiar fear, and it’s enough to have Lucas smiling back and allowing his own shoulders to droop. He has mentioned his inability to make friends a few times, and it had sat uncomfortably in his chest, but since Friday he’s felt a lot better about it. He has just known, since then. He had just been waiting for Jens.

Jens bumps their arms together purposefully as they slip into line in the cafeteria, nodding towards the hidden array of food. “To be honest, if it looks okay it probably is, but you’re still better getting one of the packaged sandwiches or something.”

Lucas nods to himself, figuring that’s probably his best option indeed, considering they’re a little late now and most of the acceptable options have already dwindled. He’s stuck between wanting to take it as the easy option and get out of here quickly or to prolong this moment alone with Jens. At least now he feels comfortable, and pleased, even with the nervous tickling in his stomach. He’d wanted nothing more than to wiggle his way into this friend-group, watching them at the weekend. He still wants it. He’s just a little more nervous than he thought he would be.

“Any specific recommendations?” Lucas thinks to ask as they near the counter. Most of the people in front of them are also going away with a sandwich packet, and a few are simply there for snacks, but there are the brave souls carrying trays with suspicious looking meats. There are more people than he expected buying lunch and settling at the many cramped tables, seemingly used to the raucous laughter and overlapping conversations and dull lights. It’s a bit too much to appear enjoyable, for Lucas, and he’s glad that Jens apparently isn’t a fan, either.

Jens shrugs. “Not really. I haven’t actually tried out much. It just depends on what you’re into.”

He smiles down at Lucas, casual, and Lucas can’t help the way his throat closes up. He knows it isn’t what Jens meant, but he can’t help but find a deeper implication there, a harder question to answer. He finds himself looking away as a flush crawls up into his cheeks and hopes Jens doesn’t notice.

When it’s their turn, he snatches up the first item he sets his sights on, in a sudden haste to escape. He only scrunches his nose up at the odd salad mixture slapped between the bread slices after he’s made his purchase and Jens is raising his brows at him, unable to hide his amusement. Lucas elbows him again.

Nerves tie a knot in his stomach as Jens finally leads him outside, and Lucas does his best to act clueless when he catches sight of the boy’s friends first. He falls slightly behind Jens and watches as Robbe takes notice of them, raising his hand in a slight wave.

Jens grins as he gets close enough to greet them, and Lucas lingers as Robbe shoots him a small smile and Moyo’s eyes trail over him, calculating. Aaron, however, is the one to tilt his head and speak to Lucas first, completely ignoring Jens as the boy nudges at his feet. “Hey, aren’t you that new guy Amber was talking about? From...Utrecht, or something?”

Jens rolls his eyes and succeeds at making space for himself on the bench next to Moyo, Aaron’s feet finally out of the way. “Lucas. I met him at the party on Friday. Lucas, this is Aaron, Moyo, and Robbe.” Jens points each of them out in turn, and Lucas does his best to seem like he doesn’t already know.

“So he’s who you ditched us for,” Moyo nudges his friend. He’s still considering Lucas closely, but his posture remains relaxed and there’s a slight upward curve to his lips. “And here I thought you were off hooking up.”

Lucas’s stomach clenches as Jens rolls his eyes, shaking his head at the comment as it bounces around in Lucas’s head. Of course, that option has disappeared at the revelation that Lucas is a guy. He shouldn’t be disappointed—he’s already more than aware of what the ‘norm’ is and how far he is from it.

Then Jens says, “Unlike our friend here–“ he juts a thumb at Aaron “–I don’t think it’s necessary to hook up with someone at every opportunity.”

Robbe snorts, but nods his head in agreement. “It’s true that Jens has more emotional tact than that.” At Moyo’s incredulous look up at him, he mends, “Most of the time.”

“He does?” Lucas can’t help asking, dubious.

Jens looks at him with his mouth dropped open in betrayal. “Hey. I thought we shared something special.”

Lucas very valiantly ignores the storm that kicks up in his stomach. “Belgian weed really just isn’t as good.”

Jens snorts, shaking his head at him as Moyo finally cracks a smile of his own. He slides along the bench, shoving Robbe’s feet away as he goes, and pats the newly created space between him and Jens. “Sit the fuck down and tell us what’s so special about you, then,” Moyo orders, and Lucas automatically obeys.

The space is smaller than he expects, and he finds himself thigh to thigh with Jens to leave a tiny gap next to Moyo as they twist around. Robbe and Aaron clamber off the table and round it to sit on the other side. When Moyo looks at him expectantly, he shrinks slightly in his seat. “Oh, there’s nothing actually special about me.”

“Amber and Luca think you’re cute,” Aaron offers, and Lucas can’t help but smile slightly.

Jens turns his head to smirk at him. “Ahh, okay. Now I get why Luca is so possessive of you.”

Robbe shares a look with him and then shakes his head, giggling slightly as he shoots Lucas a sympathetic glance. “She’ll get over it eventually. Unless you’re interested?”

Lucas leans his elbows on the table and gives a small shrug. “I think she’s already gotten over it. She seemed to have her own fun at the party once you took over her babysitting duties,” he nudges Jens.

“She knew I was going to have more luck with the cute guy,” Jens nods solemnly, and Lucas nudges him again with a little more force.

He relaxes as he digs his sandwiches back out of his bag and the boys continue poking fun at each other, leaving Moyo cursing and Jens laughing in his ears. He allows himself to smile as he imagines this, sitting with this group everyday, teasing and laughing and getting to know them. Making friends somewhat similar to those he has at home. People to go out with, to smoke with, to message when the loneliness begins creeping back in. Jens there to show him the ropes.

“How the fuck did you get a salad sandwich?” Moyo suddenly asks him, glaring at his own chicken mix.

Jens snorts from his other side. “I don’t think he knows himself. Why do you have cafeteria food though? Where’s your usual fancy lunch your mom sends with you?”

Moyo shrugs. “She didn’t get a chance to make it for today and I couldn’t buy anything on the way ‘cause I slept in.”

A more serious tone seems to fall over the table as the boys give an understanding nod, and Jens looks around Lucas to ask, “Everything okay?”

Moyo nods, and that’s that. Lucas understands that he has been left out of something and accepts that he isn’t quite a member of the group that easily. He’s going to have a little more work to do, of course, as they’re going to have to put in the time with him.

“If you’d prefer it, I have no problem with switching,” Lucas offers, doing his best to be just as casual, giving a small shrug of his shoulders.

The calculating look returns, though this time it appears pleased. Moyo gives a grateful nod, smiling as Lucas switches their lunches around. “I’m beginning to see why they like you.”

Lucas gives him a mock-offended look. “Not because I’m cute?”

Moyo scoffs, but he’s smiling as he rolls his eyes. “The position of cocky pretty boy in this group is already taken, I’m afraid.”

“Aww, Moyo,” Robbe says, “don’t tell him lies. You’re not that pretty.”

Moyo tosses what appears to be a piece of lettuce at him as he giggles again, leading to Jens letting out a chuckle alongside him, while Aaron rolls his eyes. “We all already knew Robbe’s opinion.”

“And Robbe’s opinion is the only one that matters,” Jens butts in, stretching his arm across the table to fist bump his smallest friend. Another inside conversation, Lucas realises.

Lucas huffs, shaking his head amusedly. “I’m guessing he’s talking about you then,” he raises a brow at Jens.

Jens bumps their shoulders and grins. “You agree then?”

“The cocky part gave it away.”

Jens gives him that same jaw-dropped, mock-offended look, complete with a hand pressed dramatically to his heart. He can’t quite smother his smile though. “Need I remind you who asked you to join us in the first place?”

Moyo makes a small sound of protest, shaking his head around a bite of his sandwich. “Doesn’t matter, he’s ours now. I like him.”

Lucas smiles, feeling a pleasant, easy warmth slip over him that had been absent for the past week, since moving here. He’s beginning to feel a little less out of place just with this one simple interaction, just because it’s simpler than he could’ve hoped for. He allows his expression to turn a little smug as Jens catches his gaze, and Jens’s smile simply widens. With another joyous kick in his stomach, Lucas realises the other boy is just as pleased.

“It’s weird that we’ve never actually seen you around before,” Aaron agrees, frowning.

“And that your girlfriend refused to introduce us,” Jens raises his brows.

“Well,” Lucas decides to speak up for the poor girl. “Amber was actually going to introduce us. Luca wasn’t so sure. I would’ve introduced myself, but I wasn’t really sure where to look.”

“So, you’re welcome,” Jens concludes, taking a mini bow to himself, and Moyo rolls his eyes again as Robbe huffs a quiet laugh.

Lucas’s lips quirk up at the corners as he turns to Robbe, and he’s unable to hold back. “I actually have seen you before, though, I think.” Robbe tilts his head curiously and Lucas continues, “That’s you on that mural, isn’t it?”

Robbe blushes instantly as the others laugh at him, even as Jens groans and covers his face with his hand. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“I saw it last week and I didn’t realise how good it actually is. It looks so much like you. How’d you get one of those in the middle of the city?”

“Sander’s like some kinda art ninja with serious apology skills, that’s how,” Moyo snorts, shooting his friend a teasing smile as Lucas absorbs the information.

“Sander?”

If possible, Robbe blushes even more. Still, his voice is casual, infused with an easy warmth as he explains. “My boyfriend. He painted it last year.”

Lucas’s brain short-circuits, just for a second. He suddenly wishes he’d thought to look into Jens’s friends a little more after finding his account, imagining it would have been fairly easy. He probably could have avoided this small moment of shock, that way. This momentary lapse in coherent thought. “So you’re…”

Robbe raises a brow, smiling slightly. “Taken? Or gay?”

Before Lucas can regain function, can smile and joke back, Moyo is turning to him with his most grave look so far. “Is that a problem?”

He realises belatedly that Jens has also tensed on his other side, and that Robbe’s smile is unsure, and he hates himself for a little moment. “Of course not,” he shakes his head, smiling softly at Robbe, hoping it portrays his sincerity. If they only knew the real reason for his stunned reaction, he thinks. “Unless you think he’d mind me taking a few pictures of it. Or unless you yourself mind.”

The tension dissipates instantly as Robbe’s shoulders relax and his smile brightens. “Are you into photography?”

Lucas shrugs, feeling a blush of his own creep in. “A little bit. But I don’t have an actual camera or anything. I like art in general. That’s why I paid so much attention to the mural in the first place.”

Robbe’s expression lights up even further. “Sander will like you, too, then.”

Jens lets out another groan, but he wears a soft look as he gazes at his friend. “Yeah, Sander will definitely love that. Another ego boost.”

Robbe shrugs him off with a roll of his eyes. “You love Sander. I don’t know why you bother pretending.”

“Yeah, man, it’s not like it’s a secret, we all love Sander,” Moyo points out, lunch already halfway gone, completely at ease again. “And now we know Lucas probably will too, so it’s about time you give in man.”

Jens rolls his eyes in response, but heaves a sigh. “Sander understands our relationship. It works.”

“Cute,” Robbe hums, and Lucas finds himself smiling again.

He jumps, then, as hands fall on his shoulders from behind.

“Sorry, bud, I did try to save you. See, Amber, look what they’ve done now.”

Lucas tilts his head back to grin up at Luca as Amber squeezes into the spot next to her boyfriend and kisses his cheek. Luca shakes her head at him in faux disappointment, and Moyo lets out a disgruntled sound next to them.

“You did try to keep him to yourself, is what you mean,” he says. “As if you’re better company.”

“My right hand alone is better company than you,” Luca retorts, and Lucas can’t help the surprised laughter that leaves him. Aaron’s laughter is loud, Robbe’s giggles clear, and Jens’s laughter quiet and breathy. Still, it’s where Lucas finds most of his attention drawn.

Luca squeezes his shoulders and points across the table at Robbe. “That one is sweet, I can respect you being friends with him.” Robbe grins and blows her a kiss as she sets a hand on Jens’s head, causing him to jump as well. “This one has a few kinks that could be worked out, but he’s acceptable.” Jens offers a sarcastic smile as she drops that hand back onto Lucas’s shoulder and sets the other in Moyo’s curls, who instantly tries to shake her off. “This one is super easy to make fun of, so that’s a nice trait.” Moyo finally manages to bat her away as she gestures across the table at Aaron. “And that one just...well he’s just a ball of amusement on his own. You don’t even have to put in any work there.” Aaron flips her off, and Lucas waits for Amber to protest, but the girl does nothing more than give a tiny shake of her head and fail to give Luca a disapproving look.

Lucas grins as Luca squeezes his shoulders. He looks up at her again and she says, with a heavy sigh, “Voila. The Broerrrs.”

#van der stoffels #vds #wtfock #skam nl #sink or swim #vds season fic #sos clip #what do you all think so far? 🥺

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livingmybestfictionallife · 5 years ago

Text

As If Nothing Happened

Summary: Colson and the reader have been in each others’ lives since before middle school, secretly dated for two years, and suddenly vanished from one another. Years later, they accidentally reconnect and the pair share what has been on their minds since their falling out.

The smell of liquor mixed with cheap cigarettes filled the air as (Y/N) watched the digital ball spiral around the board before her once more. All around were people--moving, talking, leaning against walls, pacing hurriedly past her, sitting too close, slurring their words, laughing with friends...living. Of the years (Y/N) had been coming to Las Vegas as a sort of annual tradition, she never came to gamble; she came to see the people, because even it's for the smallest of moments, on October 23rd, she needed to be distracted from her own life.

For nine years on October 22nd and 23rd, (Y/N) would make the trip to Vegas on her own, sit in casinos alone, play roulette, and think about the countless possible outcomes her life could have taken if only she could have changed something that happened ten years ago. So far, this year was much like every other: people continued living around her while a part of herself died over and over each year she came to this forsaken city of sin.

Absentmindedly, she placed a small bet on red-even, and sighed as she watched the digital ball spin around yet again. How many times? she thought to herself as her eyes trailed the ball. How many times will I come here? How many times can I stand to watch this ball go round and round throughout the years? The agony over her regret wasn't something she felt she could ever let go of despite how desperately she knew she needed to. Just as the ball earned her an extra two dollars of wealth, (Y/N) noticed a woman wearing next to nothing walk up to her and place a drink beside her arm without making eye contact. The icy green liquid surrounded a bright red maraschino cherry, and she wondered why her favorite drink was sitting before her. If she ever decided to drink on one of her Vegas trips, it was normally a sad drink like wine. It's not uncommon for people to turn their sorrows into vices, but she didn't want to ever be the woman crying over a vodka cranberry or a piña colada. If she let a tear slide over a Riesling, blush, or merlot, that was a different story. In this case, she didn't want to ruin the pleasant memories she had while drinking apple martinis with the sorrow she had in her heart that seemed to grow exponentially on these two days of the years.

"Excuse me," she called out just before the woman was too far away to regain her attention. "I didn't order this," (Y/N) explained once her eyes met those of the waitress.

"From the man at the bar," was the only response (Y/N) received before the woman sauntered away to attend to another patron. That sums it up, she thought to herself, as if there's not about fifty men at the bar. It wasn't that (Y/N) was interested in seeing who had bought her a drink, or even taking in the appearances of the men gathered at the bar not far behind her, rather the curiosity as to how someone happened to pick that drink to send her. After exhaling a sharp breath, she allowed her head to swivel on her neck and she swiftly took one glance towards the bar. Unfortunately for her, that quick glance was all too much, since a pair of crystal blue eyes stared at her from beneath the scraggly bleach blonde hair that overlapped them. Even across the room his eyes were piercing, and she could feel her stomach convulse into angry knots.

Him? What is he doing here? After all these years, why now?

(Y/N) tried not to watch as the man slowly rose from the bar stool he'd been reclining in, and made his way towards her. She came here to be alone, that was always the plan, that's how it had always been, and now, after damn near ten years, he's here. As he closed the gap between himself and the woman he'd spotted, as if by fate, from across the room, he gazed hesitantly down over her. Nearly a decade had passed since he'd last seen her--at least in person--and she was still as beautiful as the last time he'd laid eyes on her.

"Can we talk?" his voice was soft and low as he tried not to draw the attention of passersby. (Y/N) bit her lip as her heart turned to lead and plummeted to her knees at how soothing she still found that voice to be. Feeling as if she had no other option but to agree, (Y/N) nodded, but she did all she could to keep her eyes from meeting those of the man she knew as Colson, but the world know as Machine Gun Kelly.

After she'd cashed out of the roulette game, she hopelessly followed him as he tried to find a private place in the middle of a casino in Las Vegas. She knew it was damn near impossible, but Colson had always been...well, Colson. If he was determined enough to do something, damn it he was going to. Today however, he decided not to be stubborn, and since he quickly noticed (Y/N) becoming impatient, he led her to a fountain outside of the casino and sat down on the edge without a word. (Y/N) placed herself beside him and stared at their shadows on the ground before them.

There had been so many times in her life that she'd stared at her and Colson's shadows as they stretched across the pavement because she'd been unable to look him in the eyes: in middle school just after he'd gotten into a fight to defend her about some stupid, inaccurate rumor and she felt ashamed, the summer before she started high school after moving to Cleveland when she learned Colson had also moved to Cleveland and was relieved to have a friend, in high school after him and his girlfriend were arguing over something stupid and (Y/N) had to hold her tongue about the feelings she had for him creeping into her chest, and the day she told him she was pregnant.

Long moments of silence passed without anything more than each of them occasionally raising their drinks to their lips and scanning the crowd around them. Neither of the pair could stand to look the other in the eye. It was too painful for either of them to see the other without thinking of the countless possibilities and outcomes that had plagued each of their minds for the past nine years.

"So, how have you been?" he asked in a voice so small compared to how big he had become.

"Fine," (Y/N) responded in just as soft of a tone as Colson's. "You seemed to have accomplished everything you used to dream about," she said as a way to try and break through the tension that surrounded them.

"Yeah," Colson sighed as he gave in and allowed himself to sneak a glimpse of her profile, "almost everything." Another long silence passed where the pair that had once been inseparable struggled to exist around each another. He would stare at his drink and she would look to the shadows, each subconsciously drawing themselves to their individual flavors darkness that swallowed them the moment they left the other's life; yet they each held their breath in hips that the other would speak again.

A steady stream of air escaped Colson's lips as he tried to bring about the courage to say the word's he'd been dying to relay to (Y/N) had he ever been blessed with the chance to meet her again. Unfortunately, she found courage before he did.

"What are you doing here, Col?" The words she felt as if she'd been choking on for the past ten minutes had finally escaped her mouth. She could tell her voice was hurt, and she didn't intend on hiding any of that pain. In fact, hearing the weakness in her tone sent a lump into Colson's throat, and he quickly brought his eyes to look at her. She'd always been strong; it was something he loved about her, but after the past nine years of thinking, he'd realized it was something he'd taken advantage of. Just because she was strong didn't mean she couldn't be vulnerable, but it was in her moments of vulnerability that Colson could feel his heart break. As his eyes fell over (Y/N), he couldn't help but ache. She sat beside him, slumped over, her back completely curved with no posture to her other than the obvious desire to crumble into a fetal position.

"I- uh, I was going to come next year, but I know I'm not going to be in the States then, so I came on the nine year anniversary instead of the tenth." Softly, his fingertips found her arm and he gently traced his fingers along her skin. (Y/N) swallowed her pain with a gulp of her martini and pulled back her tears.

"I didn't realize you were that sentimental." The words nearly fell from her lips in a hiss hat it not been for them getting caught in her throat.

"(Y/N), I-"

"I have been here every year, Colson," she sighed heavily as she turned her head and body to face him completely. "Where were you? LA? New York? Half-way across the world? You know, there was a time that you made it seem like you wanted me to be there, and then the second things changed, you were gone!" The tears she'd desperately tried to keep from spilling began to fall slowly from her eyes and crated agonizing streaks of sorrow for him to look at.

"I wanted it more than anything else!" Colson's restraint snapped as he took (Y/N)'s face in his hands and wiped away her tears with his thumbs. "I wanted that child, (Y/N). I wanted to have you and our baby--I wanted our family! When we lost him, I just, I didn't know what to do or how to react. I felt you pushing me further and further away every day and I didn't know what to do."

"So you drove to LA and became someone else?" (Y/N) asked with an emptiness in her voice that he hadn't heard since she repeatedly told him "I'm fine," every time he asked about her mental state after losing their son.

"I asked you to come with me! I told you we could start over, we could try again if that's what we wanted!"

"I was nineteen, Colson."

"So are you saying you wouldn't have wanted to have a child?" (Y/N) could feel Colson's walls rising as he misinterpreted her words as rejection. "You wanted him when it was an accident," he immediately tried to counter, "what would have been different?"

"Nothing!" (Y/N) snapped as she brought herself to look into his eyes for the first time since she saw him at the bar. "Don't you see that I have no idea that anything would have happened differently? I had just, suddenly, became inhospitable for our unborn son. Who was I to think that any other child we could conceive would be different?" Her words were firm and felt louder than they were as they left her body. (Y/N) shook as the fear she'd held onto for nine years escaped her lips. The truth that hung from the strands of sentences she'd blurted out were difficult for Colson to grasp, but he did his damnedest to try to hold onto each syllable that came from her mouth, each momentary glance she would give him, and every detail of her face he could gather. "I just needed you. I need you, Col, not to move or start over or become something we weren't. I just needed you to tell me it wasn't my fault, that I didn't fuck everything up, that it wasn't because of me that our son was dead, that I wasn't the reason we left one another's lives, but you were gone."

Colson tried to stretch his fingers down (Y/N)'s arm and take her hand in his, but he could feel her muscles tense beneath her skin, so he stopped and lightly laid his hand on her forearm. "(Y/N), I never wanted to make you feel like-"

"Look, it's been almost ten years since we've seen each other. You don't have to do or say anything because you saw me here today. Honestly, sometime I think that after everything we shared together--the loneliness, our friendship, our relationship, all of it--it doesn't matter, because in the end...the way it ended...it was as if nothing happened."

"(Y/N), please don't say that." Colson's voice was weak--hardly a whisper drifting through the small space that separated them--and he knew her eyes wouldn't meet his again. He wanted to stand up and wrap his arms around her, to pull her into his chest and keep her from walking away, but he didn't know what he could say, or if there was anything he could say to keep her with him.

"Thanks for the drink, Colson," (Y/N) sighed as she walked away from the man she once loved--the man she, on some level, will always love--and down the Las Vegas Strip. Colson's eyes helplessly followed as (Y/N) as she slowly disappeared from his sight until she became just another figure hidden among the sea of people before him. The moment he'd lost sight of her gait amongst the crowd, he ducked his head into his hands, and watched his tears begin to soak the pavement below him.

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quackeroos · 5 years ago

Text

spring day pt.2 | p.parker

Pairing: peter parker x Stark!Hanahaki!reader, peter parker x michelle jones

Summary: peter discovers the truth about y/n’s condition. y/n had already accepted the inevitable, but peter wasn’t. he came up with a plan that could possibly save her, now all he has to do is get her to agree with it.

Warnings: all through out this story there will be mentions of blood, death, and will contain pining and angst.

Words: 5.6k for everyone!

A/n: your positive feedback from part 1 inspired me so much while i was writing this, so thank you guys so much! i didn’t expect Spring Day to reach 300+ notes in a week ‘coz my past works didn’t... well before. so thank you so much! i forgot to mention this in the first part, but the the idea of naming this series came from BTS’ song “Spring Day”. you guys can listen to the song while reading it! but if you’re not into kpop, that’s fine. why did i name this series “Spring Day”? you’ll find out at the end of the series.next update will hopefully by next week. my birthday writing challenge is still on-going, so everyone is still welcome to join! ARI’S BIRTHDAY WRITING CHALLENGE!

*gif is not mine

General Masterlist | Series Masterlist

“Hanahaki. It’s a disease caused by unrequited love, wherein flowers grow inside your chest and cover up your respiratory system, making the host cough up petals and blood until you die.”

Peter was silent for a moment. He was sitting beside her. Mask in hand, his head hung low, just looking at the pile of petals and blood. Everything was still a blur for him, so he replied with a low tone. “How long have you had this?”

“A few years.”

Peter winced at her reply. She had been hiding her disease for years and didn’t tell him? Peter tried to remain cool, hoping she could explain more. There had to be a reason why she hid it from him and their friends. Everything she does after all was for a reason. “Why didn’t you tell any of us you’ve had this for so long? We could’ve helped you.”

She sighed. “Peter, even if I told you guys, there’s nothing you can do.” Even though he couldn’t see her face, the sadness was laced in her voice.

“What do you mean that there’s nothing we can do? There has to be a cure for that!”

“It’s isn’t that simple, Peter.” She stood up from her bed facing him, making Peter look up at her. “It’s either I get surgery or… or my love gets requited. And surgery doesn’t always work.”

He scoffed, “So you plan on giving up?”

“I’m doing the surgery. Pepper has already talked to Stephen and Christine about it. I’m getting the surgery by the end of the week.”

“But you said it yourself that the surgery doesn’t always work! Y/n the best chance you have is getting your love requited.” As if that wasn’t the most obvious answer. Y/n almost laughed, if only he knew. There was a time she did thought of that. Try and come between MJ and Peter to save herself from the heartbreak and the disease. Maybe she could do that? Be selfish for once. After all, all her life she had been used to giving, sharing, putting others before herself. But the little voice at the back of her mind was keeping her from doing so. She couldn’t do that to MJ. Most specially, she couldn’t do that to Peter. She had always been at the side, watching him pine over MJ ever since she became more open to their little friend group.

“Who is it then? Who did you fall in love with?” his tone was cold, and it chilled Y/n to the bone.

“You knowing who it is won’t make a difference. He’s already in love with someone else.”

“Then maybe he’ll listen to reason. Y/n, you’re dying!” he stood up, there was a glint of hope in his eyes and Y/n’s heart ached. If anything, she didn’t want to see that hopeful glint in his eyes. It would only hurt more to tell him the whole truth. “Maybe if me and the others can talk to this guy, we can – “

“Pete.”

“—We can try and make him fall in love with you! Then-then you’re cured! You’ll be back to normal.”

“Pete.” She whispered softly, begging him to stop. But Peter continued to ramble on, walking around her room in a quick pace.

“Or we can try and introduce you to some suitors! Speed dating, you know? You’ll fall in love with someone else and maybe your love gets requited back!”

“Peter! It doesn’t work that way, okay!” Y/n finally found her voice. She couldn’t take it anymore. If Peter continued with his hopeful rambling, it’ll become harder and harder to tell him the truth. The despairful truth is better revealed than hiding it behind a hopeful lie. “Hanahaki doesn’t work that way. Love doesn’t work that way! You can’t just beg someone to fall in love with me!”

He turned hot on his heel. “Then what am I supposed to do? Watch you die?”

“That’s not what I’m—”

“Then what, Y/n?! I’m trying to give possible options that might work and-and you just turn them down!”

“That’s because it won’t work!” Her tone matched his. The two were overlapping each other in the heated argument, the loud voices in their heads are all over the place. “Peter, the only solution to this is the surgery. The guy is too far gone. He’s in love, Pete. And the one he’s dating is in love too. I can’t ruin what they have. They’re too good for each other.”

The air between them became calm, a bit more relaxed because of the sincerity in Y/n’s voice. He can tell that she truly loves the guy. Y/n was willing to sacrifice herself and her love for the sake of the two. And it didn’t matter if she was the one who has to suffer just so they could be together. But Peter isn’t having it.

“Tell me.” He gave her a hard look. “Tell me who the guy is.”

Y/n shook her head, “Pete—”

“I’m not letting you die just because of some stupid guy Y/n! I won’t have it! You deserve to live just as everyone does! You deserve to be loved just as they do because I know how much you have given to them - to everyone!” Peter was tearing up. “And the world hasn’t been kind to you too! If anything Y/n, you deserve a lot more because the world has taken a lot from you.”

The pain, the grief, the sadness, everything washed over her. It was like a tsunami of every bad feeling hitting her, and she was in the strike zone, all of it was because of what Peter had said. She didn’t want to feel it. She’s already tired of crying. Wasn’t it already enough? The silent sobs came out of her mouth and the tears were welling up in the corners of her eyes, slowly rolling down in a hot trail.

“If I tell you, everything won’t be the same again.” Her voice was soft and quiet, but it was enough for Peter to hear. His expression changed into confusion. He could feel her heartbeat increase in pace and her anxiety was waving off her.

Peter carefully asked, “What do you mean?”

She bit her lip, anxious to speak out to form the words that’s been sitting in the back of her mind for the past three years she had known him. It took a lot of courage to meet his eyes. She had thought she was would ready to do this, but let’s be honest, since when was anyone ever ready to confront the person they’re in love with? It was a great risk, but Y/n had to let it out now.

“You.” She replied hoarsely. “Ever since sophomore year, it was you.”

It felt like the wind knocked out the air out of Peter. Was he hearing this right? He had to be imagining things. He couldn’t possibly be the one that’s killing her, right? Everything Y/n felt for him was purely platonic.

It had to be.

The new discovery sent Peter in a whirlwind of emotions. Anger, guilt, sadness, and regret, all rolled into one. He didn’t expect to feel anger, but he did. Though he wasn’t exactly sure who he was angry with. He was angry at himself, for not recognizing what his best friend felt for him all this time and being the cause of her pain. Angry at the disease, because it’s consuming her, and now her time is numbered. He was angry at her, because she didn’t tell him about everything sooner. But Peter didn’t have the heart to be mad at her, even after everything. Because in the end, she made the choice not to tell, and she cared for him and MJ so much that it didn’t matter if her own happiness and life was at stake. Y/n was only human after all. And she was too good for this world.

He lets out a heavy breath. It was still hard to grasp what Y/n just said. It felt like he was going to have a sensory overload. “W-Why? Why? Why didn’t you tell me this before?” his voice was slowly starting to break. The weight of guilt pulling him down to the ground.

“Because this is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you. I didn’t want to you to blame yourself for this, Pete. It’s not your fault, it never was.” She put a hand on his shoulder, but it burned him to feel her sympathetic touch.

“How can you say that this isn’t my fault?! Y/n you’re dying because of me. You got this disease because of me! How can you not blame me for this?!”

“Because it’s mine Peter.” She replied calmly. “It’s my fault. I was stupid to fall in love with you and keep it to myself. But I did, Pete.” She took his hand in hers and held it tightly, hoping it might console him. “I fell, and I don’t regret doing so.” A sorrowful smile grew on her face, and instead of giving Peter comfort, he felt bad even more. Y/n was smiling despite the pain. “I never blamed you for this, and I never will. You never even knew in the first place, and I didn’t tell you about it.”

No matter what consolation Y/n would say or soothing gestures, Peter still blamed himself for it. But he didn’t have to tell her that. He didn’t tell her anything, just let her speak out the thoughts that ran in her mind. She was caught off guard when he pulled her in, instantly wrapping his arms around her, and holding on tightly. She could feel her shirt become wet and the silent sobs that came out of his lips. He holds on tightly to her; he feared the coming future. He was scared of losing her, he couldn’t handle losing another person in his life.

“I’m sorry Y/n. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not seeing it sooner. I’m sorry.” He spoke in a hushed voice, and in between the sentence, hiccups would escape his mouth. She circled her arms around him and return the hug, though hers was gentler, made to soothe Peter. The scent sends her heart into a frenzy and it hurt when she realized how this may be the last time she was ever going to be this close to him. “Please, don’t take the surgery. You said it was risky right? That most of the time, the surgery doesn’t work.”

“There’s a 20% chance I might survive. It’s risky, but I’m willing to bet on it.”

“Don’t take it, please. There has to be another way.” He begged.

Y/n shook her head in his shoulder. “I’m taking the surgery, Pete. It’s for the better.”

Peter’s silent sobs echoed around the room, and he held onto her even tighter. He refused to accept it. He doesn’t want to the fact that he was about to lose Y/n too. She rubbed soothing circles around his back, and Y/n can tell it was working. His breathing was slowly becoming steady.

“You should go back to the apartment, Pete. You’re tired, you need rest.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Pete.” She sighed, “You have to go home. May will be wondering where you are. And you need sleep.”

“I’ll sleep here with you.” His voice was muffled by the cloth of her shirt.

“Stop being so stubborn, Pete.”

“I’m not- “

She pulled away from the hug, holding both shoulders in her hands with a hard look on her face. Her eyes were still red from crying and was sniffling a bit, but the authority she held in her voice made her look so strong. “You are going home. That’s final Peter. Don’t make me fly your ass back to the apartment.”

If this was a different situation, Peter would’ve laughed at her. She always found Y/n’s foul mouth entertaining. She was a bit smaller than he was and watching her curse with a hot head made her look like an angry puppy, punk-ass sprites from that one Pixar movie. But it wasn’t. The air still held the same tension, and both still couldn’t stop themselves from crying.

Although he didn’t approve of leaving, he had to comply. Peter nodded and broke away from the hug. She ushered him to her window and Peter settled himself on the wide window ledge. He took a moment and stayed for a bit. He didn’t want to leave just yet. But the pleading eyes Y/n gave him made him sigh.

Peter pulled his mask down and jumped off, swinging into the night. Y/n stayed watching by her window, making sure he was heading off back to his apartment. Once he was out of sight, laid back in her bed and lets out a heavy sigh. The memory of Peter’s sob and the feel of his arms wrapped tight around her made her remember the time when Tony died. It was painful, and everything reminded her of that awful memory. Minutes later, Peter’s message lit up her phone, notifying her that he was back at the apartment safe. She typed back a reply, only keeping it short.

Okay. Get some rest.

And placed it back on her nightstand. She didn’t want to type out anything longer as it just be harder for her to fall asleep with the already heavy feeling in her chest. She turned on her side and switch off the light.

***

The next day, Y/n woke up to the sound of giggling and bouncing. The high-pitched voice very familiar to her. She immediately recognized the voice that belonged to her little sister, Morgan. All though she had only met her on the day of their father’s funeral, she became attached to the five-year-old in an instant. She loves the little girl to bits, and almost everything she did reminded her of her late father.

“Y/n! Y/n, Y/n, Y/nnnn! Wake up!” she bounced on the bed, shaking her sister’s body. “Mommy is making breakfast!” to the little girl’s dismay, the teen only groaned and covered her head with a pillow. The young Stark huffed and went to Y/n’s side, opening one of her eyes. “Big Sis, wake uuuupp!!”

She sighed in defeat, sitting up on her bed. “All right, all right. I’m up.” A sweet smile makes its way on little Morgan face and she squeals when her sister picked her up from the bed as they make their way downstairs. “Are you feeling better now Y/n? Are the petals and blood gone?” Morgan asked sweetly, looking at her with her doe-like eyes that were always full of curiosity and mischief. It was a trait in the Stark family, and like Y/n, Morgan had inherited their father’s eyes.

“A little, but I’ll be fine soon.”

“You were crying last night. Did something happen?”

Y/n shakes her head. “Just a bad dream Mo. Nothing to worry about.”

“Maybe I can sleep with you next time. That way you won’t get bad dreams!” her face light up at the idea. Morgan had grown to love sleeping in her sister’s room, and vice versa. Something about having someone to tell her stories until she falls asleep, to keep the nightmares at bay, and to wake up beside her big sister. She could only mirror the smile Morgan had on her face and agreed with her.

Once they reached the common area, Pepper was already setting up a plate of pancakes and a bowl of berries on the kitchen table. Sam and Bucky were settled at the living room, watching the television as they ate their breakfast, Rhodey was already finished with breakfast and was making his way out to who knows where, while Wanda was settled on a stool, eating the pancakes Pepper had made beforehand.

“G’morning Mommy!” Morgan bellowed at the strawberry blonde who walked towards them and kissed both of their heads in greeting, ruffling Y/n’s hair to wake her senses up, along with the smell of freshly made pancakes to make her stomach grumble. “Y/n was hard to wake up. But I did it! So, mission accomplished!”

“That you did, sweetie. Great job!” Pepper cooed.

Y/n groaned as she held the sides of her head, “My head is pounding. I’m gonna go make coffee.” It was a daily ritual for her. Every morning she would wake up to Morgan bouncing on her bed and make her disoriented for a bit and leave her a bit wooly. She excused herself from the kitchen island and made her way towards the coffee maker. She doubled the amount of coffee since Sam and Bucky would want some too. Too engrossed with the smell and making her cup, she didn’t notice the presence of her Stepmother standing her.

“Your eyes are red. Did something happen?” she asked, worry laced in the tone.

“Yeah. I just had a bad dream is all.” Y/n shook her head.

“I heard Peter’s voice. Both of you were crying at dawn, Y/n.” She held her breath. Of course Pepper heard. She slept at Morgan’s room last night. Y/n can’t exactly lie to Pepper, nor can she keep a secret from her for a long period of time. The woman had a knack for knowing what’s running through Y/n’s mind, what she was hiding and when she was hiding it. It made Pepper look like she was her biological mother after all this time.

Y/n chuckles jokingly, the infamous smirk slowly appearing on her lips. “Alright, you got me Pep.” She didn’t reply at her. Only kept silent with an expectant look that tells her to continue and share what had happened in the middle of the night. She lets out a breath, “I had another episode that night. While I was in the bathroom, Peter came into my room, and he saw… everything. I told him about the Hanahaki and the surgery. He didn’t take it too well.” Y/n didn’t want to elaborate everything. Peter’s cries and pleads were still fresh in her memory. If she stretched the story further, it’ll start over again. And she already had enough for one day.

Pepper took her in for a hug and place a comforting hand on her back, rubbing it soothingly. “He was gonna find out sooner or later, you know that Y/n.”

She sighs, “Yeah.”

Pepper kissed her forehead lovingly and held both her shoulders, “Peter cares so much about you. He’ll understand.” Y/n could only hope he would. Deep down, Pepper didn’t really want her to do the surgery. She had thought of another possible way, but it was too much to ask for. Stephen had already said the operation would be very risky, so that was already crossed out of her list… But she then thought of Tony. If he was still here, he would’ve taken the chance on getting Y/n to go into surgery, pull all-nighters every day, just so he could save his daughter. So, Pepper agreed to Y/n’s choice.

The morning continued with the usual routine; Wanda playing her guitar, learning new songs or writing whenever inspiration hit her, Sam taking rounds around the compound to make sure there were no intruders, and Bucky would be training for hours in the gym. Y/n used to go with Bucky to train more on her physicality and fighting techniques. But ever since she came back from the trip, Stephen and Pepper had banned her from stepping foot in the gym.

So she went to her lab. Tinkering her suit and sketching some ideas that would randomly come into her mind. Morgan kept her company most of the time. The little girl would wear the prototype helmets for her suit and would impersonate her and their father (she mostly did Tony), play with Dum-E, or sit beside her and observe to just pass the time. Y/n felt like having a tail, and she didn’t mind Morgan’s company, not one bit. She needed someone to get her mind off of Peter after all. And for the past few weeks of keeping her distance from the arachnid, Morgan had replaced the hole that Peter left in her heart.

***

By the time the sun went down, Y/n’s stomach began to rumble. She told Morgan to go fetch some snacks for them so they can eat it in the lab. But too engrossed in her work, Y/n failed to notice that her sister had already been gone for an hour. She looked at her watch. It was time for dinner anyway, so she left her things and journeyed back to the common living room. She could hear her sister’s giggles from the stairs and another voice that made her heart feel unsteady. Her feet stopped moving when she saw Peter, happily playing with Morgan who was on his back and arms looped around his neck. They were running around the living room and Peter made horse noises to make the roleplay believable. It was a sight to see, something that would warm her heart and swell.

Morgan’s eyes lit up when she noticed her big sister in the room. “Y/n!” She exclaimed, and Peter stood up straight as the little girl brought his attention to Y/n. Both of their eyes read the same expression. His eyes were better than before, no red and not puffy anymore. He looked well, compared to Y/n’s tired one’s.

The little girl climbed down the teen’s back and ran towards her sister, pulling at her arm to meet Peter in between. “Mommy told me to keep Peter company while she cooked dinner! He’s the horse while I’m the princess.” her giddiness showing in the little hops that she does. Morgan didn’t know about the feelings she has for Peter, but ever since he first saw him at the funeral, then his visits to the compound, she loved seeing her sister and her friend together. And more often than not Morgan teased her with Peter. The little rascal had a glint in her eyes and Y/n could only pray that Morgan doesn’t do her teasing in front of him.

“You should join us Y/n! You can be the Queen and Peter will be the Knight.”

As if on cue, Wanda called from the dining table for dinner. She was helping Pepper set up the table with the dishes they made. Bucky was already on his seat and Sam was making juice in the kitchen. It was rare for the Avengers to be sitting in the dining table along with the Starks. They mostly ate take outs and Wanda’s cooking if she wasn’t too lazy. They were lucky enough to have Pepper to cook for them when she wasn’t working late, and today was one of those days.

“You should join us Peter. We have an extra seat left.” Pepper came in with a pot in her hand as sets it down on the table.

Peter glances at Y/n, looking for signs of defiance, or anything that tells him not to stay. But she doesn’t say anything, instead, she jerks her head towards the table and led Morgan, he followed shortly after.

Shock flashed in everybody’s eyes when they saw Y/n coming in with Peter in tow but was quickly masked with a warm smile. “Here Peter, saved you a seat.” Rhodey patted to the one next to him. Y/n sat on the other side of the table, and it was obvious she wasn’t meeting Peter’s gaze. Thankfully, the adults knew how to keep the tension at bay. They included them in the conversation every once in a while. Peter tried to be more social to try and lighten Y/n’s mood, but she was still and quiet as a statue.

When she finished, she pushed off her seat and kissed Morgan’s temple. “I’ll be up in my room. Goodnight everyone.” She quickly made her way up the stairs. Something about Peter’s presence set off her mood. She thought she had already figured everything out in the past few hours she’s been cooped up in the lab, turns out she hadn’t. She had been avoiding it. And now that Peter was here (again), she didn’t know what to do. She was positive there was something he wanted to discuss. And handling another talk about her condition and their friendship was something she doesn’t want to do for the second time this day.

She heard a rap on her door and the person behind it didn’t mind waiting for a reply. Peter turned the knob and entered, closing the door behind him. “We need to talk.”

“There’s nothing else to talk about, Pete.” She avoided his eyes. “I told you, there’s no other way. I’m taking the surgery whether you have a say in it or not.”

“But there is a way.” He took a step forward, the same glimmer of hope in his eyes when he held her hand. “Y/n, I figured it out. You don’t have to take the surgery.”

She looked at him cluelessly, not following on what he’s getting at. “You ‘figured it out’? Peter, I don’t understand.”

“I wanna learn how to love you.”

Her eyes slowly widen, and she pulled her hands towards her and slowly backed away from Peter. “You’ve got to be shitting me.”

“I’m not Y/n. I want to save you.”

Y/n gave a bitter laugh. She had a hunch that Peter would think of that, she just didn’t believe something like that could happen, until now. “Peter, you can’t learn to love someone.”

“But what if I can? You’re not hard to love after all.”

Her hands ran through her hair, pursing her lips. “It doesn’t work that way Pete! And I’m not gonna let you ruin your relationship with MJ for this.” She started pushing him towards the door. It was already enough that he found out about her condition, but offering such a thing just to save her? Y/n’s already had it. She wanted to do it, deep down. But she decided against it. Peter was better off with MJ anyway. And if the surgery’s a success, she wouldn’t have to feel that pain anymore.

It was a win-win for the both.

Peter stood his ground and remained in the same place. “Why are you being stubborn? I’m trying to save you from this Y/n! I got you in this and I want to get you out of it!”

“Peter, it’s not your obligation to do this.”

“But it is! It is Y/n! I look at you and all I feel is I-I just have to, okay! Why won’t you just let me?”

“Because I don’t want you to!” She yelled out in frustration.

Heaves of heavy breaths fall from her lips, and the hard look she once had soften. “I don’t want you to force yourself to love me, Peter. It all comes out naturally, you know that. And I deserve more than that.” She took a step forward and was hesitant to take his hand in his. She decided to shove it in the pockets of her sweater instead. “Look, I’m content with what we already have Pete. Really, I am. I’m happy knowing that you finally have MJ as your girlfriend, I’m happy that you’re becoming better and better every day with your new suit, and I’m happy to see you becoming the man Dad had always seen in you ever since you first met. I’m happy with the thought of you as my friend, Pete. That you love me and care for me, just as how Dad did. And I’m okay with that. I’m okay with everything.”

It was silent for a moment, until Peter spoke breathlessly. “But is it enough to save you?”

The air got caught in her throat. She wanted to tell him ‘No. It wouldn’t.’. But if she did, Peter wasn’t going to let his option off the table. Tears started welling up in her eyes and when the hot trail rand down her cheek, she quickly swiped it away with her thumb. She didn’t notice Peter was slowly inching towards her, the distance between them becoming dangerously close. His breath fanned over her face and Peter lifted his hand to push away the baby hairs that stuck out of the unkept bun she made. He could feel her heart spike and her anxiety radiating off. He held her hand and place the other on her cheek in hopes to keep her calm at the proximity between them. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat, but he kept the same eyes trained on her, and behind it was something Y/n couldn’t read. As she was about to step back, Peter had already caught on and pulled her in before she could walk away.

Peter’s lips were soft. It looked soft even if she eyed it for a few moments, every time he pursed it when focusing, or wetting it with his tongue when he feels nervous and awkward. The feeling of his lips on hers made her body buzz and eyes cloud in haze. His lips felt soft, but this kiss was hard. Although Y/n’s heart was pounding, she didn’t feel any affection through the kiss. His features had already displayed the feeling; desperation, anger, sadness - all of it in a mix. His brows were furrowed, and Y/n could see a tear peeking underneath his eye.

If it were a normal setting, she would’ve kissed back. If she didn’t have the Hanahaki, If Peter did love her truly, if he wasn’t dating MJ, she would’ve melted in the kiss and loop her arms around him and play with the baby hairs on the back of his neck.

But it wasn’t. This is wrong.

She put her hand on his chest and pushed him forcefully, making him tumble. Shock and hurt painted on her face as she grazed her lips with her fingers. Her lips still buzzed with the feeling of Peter’s lips. She raised her chin and connected her eyes with his. “Why did you do that?” her voice was pained, soft, and regret laced in it.

“I wanted to.” He spoke truthfully.

He took a sure step towards her, taking out his hand to reach out but she pushes it away. The soft and pained look in her eyes transitioned into a hard-cold glare, hands tightened in fists, and lips start trembling. The tears were about to fall, and she didn’t want Peter to watch her and try comforting her.

What he did was already upsetting enough.

“Get out Peter.” She growled.

“I’m not leaving. Not until we finish talking— “

“Get the fuck out of my room Parker! I’m done talking about it! Get out!” She pushed him harder this time, but he didn’t move. Fucking super strength. He wasn’t making it any easier. She started punching him pathetically. Y/n knew she was already looking like an idiot, but Peter fucked her up. Bad.

“Leave Peter! I’m done! And don’t come back here again!”

“Y/n- “

“GET OUT!” She shoved his body hard enough to lead him to the hallway. The doors immediately shut and clicked before Peter could even get back to his feet and push it open. She can hear the knocks from the other side of the door and his voice calling out to her, telling her to open it and talk it out. But she was done with talking. And now her feelings and her senses are getting fucked up because of his stupid kiss. Y/n wanted to sob, wanted to bawl her eyes out like any normal teenager does when their hearts get broken.

But she didn’t.

She climbed in the bed and covered herself underneath the sheets and pillows. The sound behind her door was drowned out, and Y/n lulled herself to sleep. Fuck these feelings. Fuck her stupid heart. Fuck this disease.

Fuck Peter Parker for messing her up.

***

Over the course of the following days, Y/n ignored all of Peter’s attempts to make contact. Her phone ringed and buzzed for days, but not once did she pick up his calls. Her windows and blinds were shut in case he attempted to climb through the window. And his visits were no longer welcome. She made sure to lock her door unless no one else was inside the compound.

When surgery day came, she didn’t hear her phone sound off a notification from Peter. No calls, No messages. It was a quiet morning, which was a relief for Y/n. Pepper knocked on her door to let her know that Stephen and Christine will be coming in a few hours. They’ll run a few tests and proceed with the surgery. Her stomach felt empty, and the low rumble of her belly didn’t make it any easier. She was only allowed to drink a few glasses of water from time to time. God, I just want this to be over.

A knock on her door pulled her from her thoughts and she mumbled a soft ‘Come in’. Wanda peeked from her door with a gentle smile on her face. “Someone’s here for you.” Her heartbeat quickened and her temper rose.

“If it’s Peter, tell him to go fuck himself. I don’t plan on talking to him anytime soon.”

The witch shakes her head, “It’s not Peter.”

Her brows furrowed, confused. “Who is it then?” Who else would be visiting her? She wasn’t expecting anyone else. Wanda jerked her head inside the room and the mysterious visitor pushed the door open. The familiar long brown curls and the tanned complexion slowly unveiled behind the white door, and the I-don’t-give-a-fuck aura entered the room. Her stomach drop and the tension rose. There was another person she didn’t want to see, and it was the person now standing in front. Michelle stood with her usual cool and composed posture, but Y/n was the total opposite.

“So, I heard you’re getting a surgery?”

part 3 of Spring Day

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