#it had a slight chance of getting delivered by saturday. but now?

[swagging-back-to]

can anyone tell me why fedex drove my package an entire hour and a half AWAY from me?

[hongism]

what lies beneath us. - c. san (m)

➼ genre; fluff, smut, slight angst for the first half but i make it better quickly promise ➼ pairing; san x afab!reader ➼ au; established relationship, college au ➼ warnings; explicit smut ➼ rating; m/18+ ➼ wc; 6.4k

one busy semester is all it took for you and san to find yourselves struggling to find footing in the storm that is your relationship, yet rather than let go, he asked for one more week, one more day, one last chance to help get you back to shore

part of the ...and it's snowing collab.

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➼ smut warnings; unprotected sex, oral: m, vaginal fingering, praise, body worship, service-top san, san has some slightly submissive tendencies, coming inside

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You normally wouldn’t find yourself in Wooyoung’s apartment on a Tuesday morning, sitting at the bar counter beside his roommate with two mugs of coffee sitting on the granite between you, but you also haven’t had any leisure time to waste lately. It’s a miracle that Wooyoung is even up before ten o’clock, though that might be in part due to you pleading desperately over the phone to come over.

“Oh, you make her coffee but not me? The fuck is up with that, Hwa?” Speak of the devil, Wooyoung comes into the kitchen still rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“She’s a guest, you live here. And I had to wake you up because you slept through three alarms so my sympathy levels are close to zero right now.” Seonghwa flashes a faux shrug despite the heated glare he’s sent. Wooyoung lets out a huff but lets it go in favor of redirecting his attention to you.

“Right, well, what did you need to talk about so badly that it couldn’t wait until the afternoon?”

“San is coming over tonight, I couldn't do the afternoon,” you mumble.

“Is it about him then? Did something—” he waves a hand through the air like that’ll explain his thoughts, and when confusion shows on both your face and Seonghwa’s, he gives up “—did something happen between you guys?”

“It feels a bit awkward,” you admit over the rim of your coffee mug. Wooyoung scoffs at that, but Seonghwa is far more forgiving than your best friend in that he sends you a sympathetic grin. 

“Awkward?” he prompts, toying with his own drink. Wooyoung pushes away from the counter and turns to the coffee maker.

“I don't know. Yeah, awkward, a bit. I guess. Like we don't know what we're doing or how to be in a relationship anymore.”

The brutal semester you both just suffered has been the main factor in the wedge in your relationship. Weekends full of studying, ones that you spent together at the start of the semester when he would come to your place or vice versa so that you could be together even while working. Then, San started picking up more shifts at his part-time job, and you had to redirect your focus to a particularly important internship that required you to forgo those weekends in the blink of an eye. You did have two weekends free of school and work, but San had to rush home during one of those on account of his mother falling ill. The other one was shot by you falling ill with the worst cold you’ve known in all your years of living. San came by that Friday with your favorite chicken and beer, but you couldn’t bring yourself to risk getting him sick when you knew how important the semester was to him too. It didn’t keep him from coming by again Saturday and Sunday both, soup was delivered to your front door along with voice messages wishing you well throughout the night. Even your text conversations were fizzling into oblivion by the time finals rolled around, which only served to amplify your feelings of dread. 

“Has he been acting differently?” Wooyoung tunes back into the conversation, this time more serious with his tone. “Like, he's pulling away or something?” Wooyoung stands on a different footing in this conversation and knows things Seonghwa doesn't in terms of your relationship with San. He's been there for you since well before you started dating San, and you're certain that he'll be there for you if it were to end tomorrow, the next day, or years down the line. 

“It's gonna sound so childish and stupid but he hasn't been calling me nicknames since the semester ended.” You tuck your hands into your lap and shrink into yourself a little, feeling the hot burn of shame well up inside.

“That's not stupid at all, y/n,” Seonghwa reassures barely a second after you finish your train of thought. “That's not.”

“He's right. That's totally unlike San.”

“Not! Helping!”

“I'm just being honest?!”

“Look, y/n, I don't want you to start having doom thoughts or thinking the worst — that doesn't mean his feelings for you have changed.” You’re starting to think that you should’ve asked Seonghwa for advice from the start instead of Wooyoung. “Maybe he's feeling that awkwardness you are too, or maybe he's feeling insecure. The only way to know is to ask. Have an open and honest conversation about it.”

“But…” You glance past Seonghwa to look at Wooyoung's back. Without even needing to look back, he seems to feel the weight of your stare.

“You're scared that if you bring it up, the worst will happen and y'all will break up.”

“We've been dating for so long that I don't know what I would do if that happened. I don't know how to be single, no offense to either of you, but it's just that we've been together for so long now. I wouldn't know what to do with myself if it ended.”

“If…” Wooyoung bites his words back as though he's unsure of how they will come out. “I don't want this to sound harsh, but if all it takes for him to lose his feelings for you is one busy semester, then that's not someone I would want you to have a future with. I know it's not up to me and it's not my business, but I want you to value yourself more than you value your relationship with San.”

“I truly don't think he's lost his feelings for you, y/n,” Seonghwa cuts in again, hand darting out across the counter in your direction. “Woo is right; you should value yourself more than the relationship you're in, but that doesn't mean you can only have one of those things. They can coexist.”

“What if I’m fighting for something he doesn’t want any longer?” you inquire softly and under your breath.

“The spark isn’t gone, y/n, I’m certain of that much. Maybe you just… need to find a way to reignite it!” The coffee maker dings loudly behind Wooyoung. And like it’s turning on a lightbulb in Wooyoung’s head, his expression turns suddenly bright. “Why not do just that? It’s been half a decade, to be fair, so really you can’t be blamed if things feel a little stale. If you went and did things that made you fall for each other in the first place, wouldn’t that help a bit?”

“I hate to say it…”

“You always say that when I’m right!”

“Ignoring him, that does sound like a good plan, y/n.”

Despite the reassurance from both your best friend and someone you consider to be far more mature and wiser, it doesn’t fully quell the concerns settling in your gut.

It’s only been six days since you last saw San, though you would argue that it feels a lot more like six months given how absent you both have been from each other’s lives of late. While that isn’t particularly your fault or his wholly — it’s definitely a joint effort that’s kept you apart — it does make your skin itch with anxiety every time you think about seeing him again.

It’s all culminated into this moment right now, where you sit on the edge of your couch waiting for the doorbell to ring and announce his arrival. You want to see him, desperately so, you’ve missed him so incredibly much that you can hardly stand it. And yet — you’re rooted to the cushions riddled by anxieties. You tried to rid yourself of the lingering stress after leaving Wooyoung’s apartment by doing chores properly for the first time in months, going so far as to run to the grocery and restock some necessities as well. You hate to be the type of partner who cannot do anything alone without associating it with your partner, but San was on your mind throughout the day.

Will he feel the same as you even though the flame keeping your relationship alive has been inching closer and closer to nothingness? The two of you don’t fight, in fact, your friends like to say that things go a little too smoothly between you two, and while that’s true, they aren’t aware of what it looks like when you and San aren’t getting along. It looks the way this semester has, slow conversations that lead nowhere and less time spent in each other’s presence. You aren’t fighting right now, but you certainly aren’t all sunshine and rainbows. The weather mirrors your emotions — dim greys shrouded by white flurries of snow that have been falling since early afternoon.

You clench your fingers around the seam of the couch cushion. No part of you wants to play the part of the overbearing partner: if you’re too eager to see him, wouldn’t he find it off-putting? 

The doorbell rings.

It takes a moment for you to brace yourself for impact, standing and walking over to the door as slowly as you can manage without it seeming like a deliberate delay. The second you open the door, however, your worries melt away for a moment. 

San smiles so brightly like you’ve not gone a second without reveling in each other’s presence. The weather is clinging to his coat still even though he had to climb three flights of stairs to reach your door. The little snowflakes are beginning to melt into the fabric.

“May I come in?” The facade cracks a bit. It’s not like him to ask such things, but you choose not to hold it against him now.

“Yeah, yeah, I finally had time to clean the other day so everything’s — nice.” 

If your smile is strained, he says nothing about it, stepping over the threshold and into your apartment like it’s the first time he’s ever done so. He’s polite all the time, but now it makes those seeds of doubt sprout further because you’ve been together for five years now, what reason does he have to act like a stranger in your home? A home he’s been in time and time again, one he’s slept in, fucked you— 

“Do you want ramen or pizza?” You force the thoughts to come to a halt before your expression turns bitter.

“Let’s do ramen, I’ll cut up the vegetables for you.”

There’s an elephant in the room that it seems neither of you wants to address, and so you keep your mouth shut just the same as San with the thought of “maybe this awkwardness will pass after tonight”. You watch him remove his coat and hang it up on the door while still picking at your nails. He extends a hand to you, one you take eagerly, and you lace your fingers through the gaps between his. A bit like a well-oiled machine, you think, something that Wooyoung had noted about the two of you as far back as freshman year of college. San presses his lips to the top of your head. You lean into the touch ever so slightly. 

You share in a quiet synergy that carries you through the motions of preparing food, with no conversation exchanged aside from a “watch for the knife” and “careful, behind you” on occasion. You’re still trying to psyche yourself up to bring up what’s truly on your mind, so you aren’t sure that you’d be able to get any conversation out without it spiraling into insanity right off the bat. For the moment, for now, you want to simply drink in San’s presence. 

He hums as he opens a cabinet in search of bowls, but they aren’t there. 

“Oh, I—I moved the bowls to the other side.” Three months ago, your mind adds. It would do nothing but add salt to a blossoming wound. San stops dead in his tracks too. He seems to suffer the same crisis that you do right then. After a few seconds of mental buffering, he resumes his humming and shifts to the adjacent cabinet like the moment didn’t happen at all. 

You sit beside each other at the bar counter, atop the uncomfortable stools you’ve had for well over two years now, but it offers a weird comfort because it’s familiar, it’s something San knows, it’s something you share and have shared for years. 

“Thanks for the meal,” San says, still wearing a bitten-back smile. 

“Of course. Thank you for helping.” But the detrimental reality of not speaking to someone properly for a long while is that part of you forgets how to make conversation with them. There is nothing for you and San to “catch up on” seeing as you’ve been keeping each other updated on your lives through dry text conversations. “Um…” He’s eyeing you carefully now, and you could pass off the watering in your eyes as the spice of the food, but he would call your bluff in an instant. The funny thing about doubt is that once it’s taken root, it’ll keep growing back no matter how many times you chop at the stem.

“What’s wrong, y/n?”

“It’s just — I don’t — are we breaking up?”

San freezes halfway over his ramen, chopsticks nearly falling from his fingers as he rushes to put his noodles back down. Your shoulders start shaking before you can stop it. He doesn’t stop you from turning away from him, but San has always been endlessly patient and gentle with you so you don’t expect him to ask you to look at him anyway. He does rest a hand atop your forearm though, and his thumb drags small, comforting circles over your skin. 

“Talk to me, y/n, what do you mean by that? Why would we be breaking up?” The words themselves sound calm. There’s a slight quiver to his tone, however, that makes you want to crawl inside yourself and disappear. “A-Are you wanting that?” Your continued lack of response makes San more urgent than ever, and he shifts his hand to your leg, spinning you to face him. You can’t be certain of the expression on your face (though you’d wager there is some degree of hurt); whatever San sees makes him let out a distressed noise from the back of his throat. “Come here, duck, talk to me.”

Standing on somewhat shaky legs, you push yourself closer to San, and he instinctually moves his knees apart to let you tuck yourself into the space there.

“Don’t cry, baby, I’m here, you can talk to me,” he murmurs, hands cupping your face in his hands. You reach down to cling to his shirt like it’s a lifeline. 

“That’s the first time you’ve called me that in weeks. This is the first time we’ve spent time together in six days. We’ve barely spoken or spent time together all semester, and I know why — I know we agreed that school and work have to come first. I know that.” Your voice drops to a whisper as you lose the confidence to speak. “I didn’t think it would mean losing you though.”

“You haven’t lost me, y/n. I’m still here, with you, loving you just as much as ever.” San smiles a little as you push your cheek further into his palm. “My feelings have not changed. I thought about you every day, wondered how you were doing, and if you responded to my texts late, I hoped you were eating well and getting enough rest. I listened to your voice memos rooting for me every night. Your face was always the first thing I saw in the morning because I still keep that slideshow of you as my lockscreen.” Reaching around to the back of your neck, he gives you a little tug, and your foreheads bump together. “The thought of you helped get me through the semester because I knew that it was you who was waiting for me at the end of the tunnel.”

“Sannie…”

“How long have you been worried over this, baby? You should’ve come to me the moment you started having doubts. I wouldn’t have let this go on if I had known.”

“I thought I felt you pulling away so I was scared to bring it up. You weren’t calling me nicknames anymore, and I started reading into it too much and freaked myself out.”

“I’m so sorry, y/n. Don’t put the blame on yourself, it’s not a crime to have anxieties. I didn’t even realize I stopped using them. I suppose I just got swept up in my own feelings and wanted to call you by your name as much as possible.” He nudges you with his head again. “Because I missed you so dearly.” Your lips turn up at the corners, a gesture that doesn’t go unnoticed by your boyfriend. “And because I adore you so so much, my y/n.”

“Stop that.” You hope he doesn’t, truly.

“But I’m so mushy and full of love for you, y/n.”

“You’re gonna make me blush.”

“Oh, I can think of other ways to do that, baby.” San stands, subsequently pushing his body into yours, but your hands are still on each other, his moving down to caress the back of your thigh before he hooks his fingers around the bend of your knee and hoists your leg up over his hip. “I haven’t been good to you, my sweet,” he murmurs close to your lips. “What kind of boyfriend am I if I let you feel unwanted?” Your heart skips a beat as he grips tight at your other leg, then you’re suddenly weightless for a second as he hoists you up to his waist.

“We just ate—”

“I don’t plan on letting that stop me.” You let out a gasp as San traces the line of your jaw with his lips, hot breath spilling across your skin as he carries you from the kitchen. “Unless you want it to?” This damned man knows what he’s doing, he knows the hold he has over you — your brain is already turning into a foggy mess of want, and even the prospect of waiting two minutes for him to lay his hands on you is too much to bear. Your nails drag across his shoulders, tugging at the thin material. He misses the doorknob to your bedroom thanks to your antics, sending you against the wood a little harshly and forcing the air out of your lungs. “Sorry, sorry.”

“Still on the pill.”

“Hm?” he echoes, managing to turn it right on the second try and popping it open properly.

“I’m still on the pill,” you repeat. San freezes in place to stare at your face. You bring a hand around to toy at his parted lips with your thumb. “So you can fuck me raw.”

San becomes so dumbstruck that his jaw moves up and down over and over without any semblance of noise coming out.

“Fuck, you’re gonna make me come in my pants like a horny teenager,” he says under his breath. You drop your head back and laugh. San’s hold on you feels so blissfully warm. You didn’t even have time for this during the semester, sometimes thanks to your workloads but more often thanks to sheer exhaustion. A few solo jaunts before bed are hardly enough to please you the way San does. Based on how tightly he’s gripping your ass, he seems to feel exactly the same.

“It wouldn’t be the first time.”

He manages to get you both to the bed without further incident, laying you down on the mattress with a sort of reverence that makes your chest swell with emotion. Even through the barrier of clothing, his fingers are hot and sear a path from your hips up your waist then right back down again as San wastes no time in stripping you of your pants. 

“I missed you so fucking much it’s insane.” You want to respond, but the sight of your lover dropping to his knees at the foot of the bed stops you in your tracks. All you can do is lie there and watch him tug your pants off, lips moving to kiss each bit of exposed skin along the way. Goosebumps rise across your body when he kisses his way up higher. His broad frame cages you in the closer he gets to your face, and despite his hands being on the somewhat small side, they feel all-encompassing when they’re sneaking under your shirt and exploring the skin beneath.

“I missed you more,” you murmur, catching his chin between your fingers and angling his face upwards so you can properly look at him. “I love you so so much, San. More than I can put into words.”

“Yeah?” You make no effort to pull him higher although he moves as though you do and climbs all the way up to be right over your face. He hums before dipping down to kiss the corner of your mouth. “I think I’ve missed you more still though—” another kiss, this time to the opposite side of your mouth “—but you’re welcome to challenge me on that.”

“San,” you whine. He pulls back and sits back on his knees. Your brain goes totally blank watching him take his shirt off. It’s something you’ve seen time and time again, truly nothing new or foreign to you, but something about it now makes your gut twist in on itself. He’s lost a bit of the muscle you’ve grown accustomed to seeing on him, now softer around the edges, at the waist and across his stomach. It doesn’t curb your desire for him in the slightest; if anything it makes you want him more, to cling to him tighter and feel him firmer against you.

He throws the shirt down to the floor and drags a hand through his dark hair. His legs are splayed around yours, putting the prominent bulge in his pants on full display before you.

“I want you to use me, y/n.” He grabs your hand from where it’s resting against the bed and brings it to his chest. You dig your nail into his flesh like it’s second nature to do so. “Tonight, for your pleasure.” His eyes trail after your every moment, watching as you sit up and pull your legs out from under him. You graze the underside of his dick ever so slightly yet it’s still enough to make his lashes flutter. 

“Then…” San is like putty in your hands, conforming to every move you make while still maintaining that unbreaking eye contact. He turns with you, and you climb off the bed to stand despite feeling seconds away from toppling over. All it takes is the slightest push against his chest for him to lie flat on his back. “Will you be good for me?” 

His response comes in the form of a bitten-back whine thanks to you cupping the bulge of his cock as you withdraw your hand. It’s intoxicating to strip him of his jeans and feel every inch of his pretty tapered waist. You urge him to move further up on the bed, making room for you between his legs once you’ve tossed his pants down beside yours on the floor. The tip of his cock peeks out the top of his underwear, already stiff and leaking precum onto the elastic band. Saucy nudes here and there don’t do him nearly enough justice, you think. You tease just the bit of him that's exposed with your tongue, licking at the sensitive and swollen head, and he twitches beneath the fabric. Humming to yourself, you inch his underwear down just far enough to put his whole member on display, along with his balls, but you don’t go any further than that. It’s enough for you to get your mouth around him, after all, and that’s exactly what you do without giving San any time to brace himself for the touch.

He lets out a desperate moan the moment your wet heat envelopes his length, fingers curling into his palms around the comforter. His hips twitch with the desire to thrust upwards, but he keeps himself firmly planted on the bed, fulfilling his end of the bargain for you and being so delightfully good. The weight of him on your tongue isn’t nearly enough; you want him buried deep inside you as soon as possible, and you’d go on and do it now if you didn’t think it would hurt like a bitch given how long it’s been since you’ve taken him. San isn’t distracted enough to miss the way you retract a hand to touch yourself, and he fights to speak through broken moans.

“I w-wanna touch you, pretty.” You lift yourself off his cock until just the tip sits on your lower lip.

“I’ll let you later when I ask you to fold me in half and fuck me into the mattress.” You sink two fingers into your hole, taking San back into your mouth to revel in that full feeling again. You’re just as needy as he is, in reality, because your walls are already coated with arousal and it pools around the base of your fingers in such a way that it makes your cheeks flush. San’s noises aren’t helping in the slightest — for as quiet as he is in day-to-day life, he is ever so vocal when it comes to sex, especially when his cock is buried in your mouth. He’s just long enough to push right into the back of your throat, making it far easier for you to take him fully. 

“Your mouth feels so — fuck, fucking good, baby.” If you weren’t preoccupied, you would love to return his words with your own, so you settle for tugging at his balls a little. It earns you a delightful little yelp, and his hips buck up to drive his dick further into your throat than expected. “Hngh, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“I want—” you don’t finish your train of thought, too rushed to bother with it as you scramble to rid yourself of your underwear. San greets you with his hands when you climb back onto the bed and grabs hold of your waist. He tugs and pulls at your shirt until it’s gone too, leaving you with nothing more than your plain black bra. However, even that San seems to find issue with, because he toys with the clasp until it comes loose and throws that aside too.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, settling back against the mattress. He’s always told you this is his favorite position, to see you straddling his hips and bouncing on his cock, though he favors missionary quite a bit as well because it lets him see your body and face while he’s fucking you (despite how much he loves your ass). His cock is trapped between your pussy and his stomach now, hard and throbbing for the same kind of stimulation you so desperately crave. You drag your folds along his length a few times just to tease San, but he grips your hip in warning. In hindsight, you should have let him finger you open more before because the stretch is far more than you remember — not enough to hurt, but enough for you to really feel every inch of him entering your body. It makes you writhe atop him, your spine arches, and you drop your head back. San holds you like you're a precious gem, thick arms circling around your waist as you rest your hands on his chest. The position gives you some much-needed stability, but San's fingers have begun to get severely distracting. He rolls his thumbs into your skin, pausing only to squeeze and pinch at the more sensitive parts of your sides. 

“I’m gonna start moving,” you whisper like being too loud will break some sort of seal. San nods and unwraps his arms enough to simply hold your hips. Despite the decrease in definition of his muscles, his strength doesn’t seem to have gone anywhere, because he lifts you with such ease that it’s a bit dizzying. Still, he lets the control rest in your hands. You sink down slowly on his cock, letting your walls get used to the drag, before doing the same motion two, three more times. The first whimper to fall from your lips is what snaps your resolve. San’s hold on you remains firm but only to ease the strain on your thighs as you begin to pick up your pace. 

“Beautiful, beautiful, you’re so beautiful, my sweet.” San rolls his hips up in time with your movements, driving his cock up into your cunt as you drop yourself onto him, and it reaches so deep inside you that you see stars behind your eyelids. “Missed you so much, missed this, seeing your body through photos wasn’t enough — fuck, it wasn’t enough.”

“How many, ah, times did you come to those photos, hm?” You crack one eye open to watch San’s face. He’s already flushed with want, but the red in his cheeks deepens more upon hearing your question. You lean your weight further into your hands. “I fingered myself so many times thinking of you, Sannie. B-But, hngh, it wasn’t good enough. Not as good as your cock. Nothing… n-nothing feels as good!”

San thrusts up with more vigor now, all but taking over for you to go slack above him as he drives your hips down with his hands and pushes his length into you from the opposite direction. Then, suddenly, his movements falter and stutter to a halt, and he looks just as shocked as you are when his cock twitches against your walls. A blooming of warmth fills you right after, along with the realization that San has just come inside you without warning.

“I-I’m sorry, I — I didn’t mean to, ah, I thought I would last longer.” He slings an arm up over his eyes, and the red in his face deepens in hue. “I’m sorry, I should’ve let you come first.” You click your tongue against the roof of your mouth. Leaning down over him, you peel his arm away from his face so that you can see his shamed expression better.

“Your dick is far from the only thing that can make me come, babe. Right?” 

He nods a few times, but there’s still a pout on his lips. You kiss it away. 

“Then—” you detach yourself from his body, bringing about an unwelcome emptiness as his spent cock slips out of you, and roll onto your back beside him. He watches with rapt attention as you spread your legs and open your pussy to him. “Why don’t you?”

San moves with surprising haste for a man who has just come, rolling into the space between your legs, and while you expected him to just use his fingers to get you off, he hooks his hands around your thighs and shoves his face into your used cunt instead. It yanks a startled moan out of you, and it’s only amplified when he closes his lips around your clit. He’s lucky you don’t give him a concussion with how quickly you slam your thighs around his head. You don’t notice that he’s moved a hand until fingers are prodding at your leaking entrance and urging the come he just pumped into you back into your hole.

“O-Oh, San.” 

Normally, he takes his sweet time eating you out, bringing you to the precipice of orgasm before sending you right back down time and time again without release. Though, either out of lingering shame at coming early or simply out of a desire to make you unravel, San laps at your clit so eagerly that it sends shudders through you. You can feel your blood rushing lower as he urges you to come, walls clenching around his fingers. It only takes another second more for the first wave to hit you, and it makes you scramble to grab hold of San’s hair as he keeps curling his fingers over your sweet spot. He does so throughout each wave of your orgasm until tears burn the corners of your eyes and you’re all but pleading for him to grant you some mercy.

“You — you had nothing to prove, you know,” you say between desperate attempts to catch your breath. San giggles and looks up at you from his lewd position. “Ugh!” You shove his head away from you half-heartedly just to spare yourself more embarrassment.

“Oh, come on, don’t be like that, duck!”

You only go as far as the pillows, turning back to him immediately and opening your arms to welcome him into them. 

“I came too early, of course I had something to prove,” he adds once he’s snugly placed against your chest. You slot together like two pieces of a puzzle, his head under your chin and your breath stirring the messy strands of hair in your path. “I’ve fallen out of practice. When was the last time I did that? It’s embarrassing…”

You can’t contain your laughter.

“You always come a little early when I ride you.”

“That’s not fair!”

All you can do to soothe him is pat his head. You feel a tad sticky and gross all over, but San’s warmth more than makes up for it, and if you’re not careful, you’re certain you’ll fall asleep within minutes. A small sniffle coming from the man atop you chases thoughts of rest away in the blink of an eye though.

“San?”

“’m okay, promise.”

“You’re crying, baby, that’s not ”okay“.”

“I just,” he inhales and licks over his lips, skating across your sternum in the process. “I wasn’t sure I was gonna stay afloat without you.” You comb your fingers through his hair.

“Tell me when you need me and I’ll be there. Always.”

“I didn’t want to disrupt your schedule and get in the way.”

“You have to trust that I’ll take care of myself and my responsibilities even if I help you too. You always tell me that when I worry over the same things. It goes both ways, San, okay?”

“Okay.” He nods against you. “Okay, I’ll try to remember that. As long as you don’t lock yourself away when things get tough. Rely on me if you need strength. And talk to me when something is on your mind.”

“Alright, we have an agreement.” Out of nowhere, you remember Wooyoung’s suggestion from this morning. Picking at a stray piece of San’s hair, you mull over your thoughts some more. You could let things settle as they are now since things seem to be back to a pleasant state of balance. But even so, would it do any harm to try anyway? “I’d like to go on a first date again. With you. I want us to go on a first date again.”

“Hm?”

“Like… I want us to go out like it’s the first time all over again. And feel that excitement and giddiness we had back then. We don’t have to, it’s just a thought. I don’t know. Maybe it’d be a good thing after this semester.”

Silence overtakes the room. San’s breathing is so steady that you think he’s fallen asleep, but the second you try to shift and see his face, he tilts his head up and looks into your eyes.

“Alright. Let’s go on a first date again.”

…

“I figured we’d go to that little Thai place by the grocery before heading over to the Christmas light show?”

“Oh!” Your thoughts rearrange themselves around his words. “That sounds really nice, yeah.”

“The guys wanna meet up at Wooyoung’s after for chicken and beer, but I told them I’d leave the decision up to you.” He tilts his chin a bit to the side as he speaks, lips quirked up at the corners, and you find yourself so incredibly fond of him all over again.

“Let’s see how we feel after walking around.”

You offer to drive tonight, but he denies you quickly, whining about how he filled his tank full of gas just for tonight so you don’t push the matter any further than that (though, you still tease him a bit once he opens the passenger door for you). When he turns the car on, music starts blasting through the speakers, a song you recognize well, and the dash shows that he’s been listening to the playlist you made for him at the start of the last school year. 

“Sorry, forgot the volume was up so high.” He scrambles to twist the dial down, but you stop him with your hand, gripping his wrist lightly and giving a firm shake of your head.

“I didn’t realize you still listened to it. Normally you just have the radio going.”

“Ah, well,” San’s cheeks are a bit flush under the low lights of the car, “I suppose I’ve been feeling a bit sentimental these days.” His next move is a bit hesitant; he reaches across the console and lays his hand atop your thigh. You reassure him by putting your hand over his, fingers curling around his once again. It feels normal and familiar, though you can’t count on two hands the last time you’ve done something as menial as holding hands with San. 

“San?” He makes a noise of acknowledgment while watching the road. “I’ve missed you.” His nails dig into your flesh a little, and the pressure makes your heart clench in your chest.

“I’ve missed you more.” You can only see his side profile, but it’s enough for you to catch the upturn of his lips. 

“I’ve missed you most then.” The statement slips out through a pout. 

“And I love you more than the moon loves the ocean.”

The weight of his hand is comfort enough for you to be at ease for the rest of the drive.

────────────

please like & reblog this work and consider leaving a reply or sharing your thoughts in a reblog or ask!

this work belongs to caly / hongism (2023). do not copy, repost, or plagiarize in any way.

[fangirlingalittletoohard]

Down Bad

After perhaps the worst day of both of your lives, you and Crowley need proof that life is worth living again. When you meet each other in the bar in which you work, you prove to be exactly what the other needs to provide comfort after the conclusion of both of your relationships; a friend. How will you both react, after being hurt so terribly, when you begin to fall for one another?

Crowley x fem!reader

Use of y/n

Warnings: occasional swearing, implied mental illness

1,951 words

prev. chapter

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Chapter 6 (final chapter)

You woke up relatively early after essentially crying yourself to sleep. You couldn’t believe you had been so stupid. Your head was throbbing, whether from alcohol, crying, lack of sleep, or a combination of all three, you weren’t too sure. You had fucked up the friendship which had helped you to grow so much as a person by having feelings. You realised now that it wasn’t just lust last night, but you had genuine feelings for Crowley. It hurt knowing you had only just discovered these feelings and your recklessness had ruined any chance you possibly had with him. You genuinely hadn’t felt any romantic attachment to him before the past twenty-four hours. You had genuinely just been very close friends and you were so grateful for that friendship. If you could redo last night, you wouldn’t go out at all. You would stay home, and determine to suppress your feelings in order to maintain your friendship. 

You tried calling Crowley (multiple times in succession), but, as you had expected, there was no answer. You lay in bed, curtains still closed, staring at the ceiling and resolving never to leave your bed again. You truly hated yourself so much in that moment. 

~~~

You called in sick on Monday and Tuesday. You were still wearing the same pyjamas you had put on on Saturday night once you had arrived home and you hadn’t showered or eaten anything much. 

On Wednesday, you realised that you were beginning to spiral. As easy as you knew it would be to just stay in bed until someone noticed your absence and forced you out, you knew from experience how hard it would be to pick yourself back up again. Reluctantly, you dragged yourself into the shower. You sat on the floor of the shower letting the warm water run over you for at least half an hour before you talked yourself into shampooing your hair and lathering body wash over your skin. You were glad to feel clean again. 

You wrapped your hair up in a towel and threw on some joggers and your comfiest old top and the pleasant feeling of your body being clean inspired you to brush your teeth (not for your usual two minutes, but 5% is better than 0% as the therapist you used to see had told you). 

You opened the living room window and sat on the sofa for a slight change in scenery. Your stomach growled. You knew that going out to buy food or making something was too much, so you ordered breakfast to be delivered to your apartment. 

Once your breakfast arrived, you forced yourself to fill multiple glasses with water and bring them over to the sofa so that you had no excuse to be dehydrated. You ate as much as you could of your full English breakfast and managed to gulp down two glasses of water. You felt a little better after fulfilling your basic human needs and decided that getting out of the house would probably do you some good. 

Reluctantly, you gave your manager a call. Thankfully, your manager was a lovely woman only a few years older than you. You forced yourself to open up slightly, explaining in limited detail that you had been struggling mentally over the past few days but wanted to come back into work today. Being the lovely woman that she was, she agreed to come in to work also so that, should you need to leave your shift early, there would still be someone to tend the bar. 

You took a deep breath and made an effort to congratulate yourself on looking after yourself, as embarrassing as it felt to find these simple tasks so difficult. 

~~~ 

Thankfully, the bar was quiet all evening. You had piled your freshly-washed hair on top of your head to avoid styling it and had worn an outfit that complied with uniform regulations but was still comfortable. You were glad you had come to work. Your manager had funny stories to tell about her toddler in his quest to begin walking (and to imitate his mother’s accidental yet often swearing) and the distraction of having something to do perked you up. 

As the night drew to a close and you began to lock up, your manager offered you shifts over the weekend. “There’s some pretty big gigs down the road this weekend so we’ll probably be busy ad it wouldn’t hurt to have an extra member of staff in.”  You thought on it for a second.  “You don’t have to commit, just come in if you fancy it and let me know when you want to leave.” She added. You were grateful for her. You knew that obviously she would benefit from having another pair of hands on a busy weekend, but also knew that her offer was disguising her giving you a place to come every day to get out of the house. 

~~~ 

The weekend passed rather quickly. Being at home by yourself was difficult because being alone with your thoughts led to you pining for Crowley, so you spent most of your time at work. As your manager had predicted, you were busy, which meant that you rarely had time to get lost in your thoughts. By Sunday night, you were exhausted but satisfied, knowing that it would be much easier to fall asleep if your body was tired. 

When you arrived home after your shift, however, you didn’t quite know how to react when you were greeted by Crowley, sat on the steps to your apartment building and tapping his foot agitatedly. Your heart began to beat extremely rapidly. You were just beginning to feel somewhat normal again and he was going to thrust you right back to square one. You would not stand for it. 

He stood up quickly once he saw you approaching. He opened his mouth to greet you but you cut him off. “I am not in the mood for bullshit, Crowley, so you had better either explain or get away from my apartment.” The coldness in your voice felt alien to you, but you knew you had to be blunt with him in order to protect yourself. 

“I came to explain.” He began. “I didn’t think you’d be working on a Sunday.”  You folded your arms across your chest and stared at him silently.  “Okay,” He began, rather awkwardly. You weren’t used to him being awkward. “I shouldn’t have left the way I did.” He continued by way of an apology. When you didn’t reply, he took a deep breath and continued, “so I’m sorry.”  “Thank you for your apology.” You replied plainly. He knew he wasn’t giving you what you wanted. It started to rain. Somehow, you knew that the rain must be Crowley’s doing. You still didn’t know quite what was going on with him, but you were certain that he was supernatural. He was trying to get you to invite him in, but you weren’t going to bite.  “I’m not like you,” he began to explain, the rain becoming heavier. “I’m not good. Actually, I’m the complete opposite of good.” He mumbled.  “Crowley, I don’t want games.” You stated. “Tell me what’s going on or go home.”  He let out a frustrated sigh before rolling back his shoulders. You had to blink a few times to make sure you weren’t imagining things. A pair of huge, beautiful black wings had appeared behind him. He removed his glasses and you saw, for the second time, his serpentine eyes. You frowned. You didn’t understand.  “I’m a demon.” He stated. “I am literally here on Earth to cause corruption. I can’t do that to you. You deserve someone good.” It was raining hard now.  You didn’t know what to say. You knew that Crowley wasn’t human, but still, this was a lot to come to terms with. Crowley being a demon meant that Hell existed, and if Hell existed, that meant that Heaven existed, and if Heaven existed, that meant that God existed… You had been an Atheist since you realised in school that you could question the Bible stories being read to you. You wanted to voice all of this, but instead what came out of your mouth was “can I touch them?”  Crowley seemed a little taken aback, but managed to reply, “Um, sure.”  He turned around and spread his wings. You ran your fingers through the soft feathers and felt him shudder under your touch. They really were magnificent. 

You stepped back a little and Crowley turned back around. “Don’t look at me like that.” He pleaded.  “Like what?” You asked.  “Like that.” He repeated. “Affectionately.”  You realised that, against your best intentions, you were, in fact, looking at him affectionately. He was just gorgeous, like that, with his golden eyes on show and his wings spread behind him. It was definitely a lot to take in, and he had said that he was the opposite of good, but other than last weekend, he had never been anything other than lovely. Yes, he was a little grumpy and rough around the edges sometimes, but he was genuinely concerned for your welfare most of the time. 

Crowley raised a wing over your head to shelter you from the rain. You practically melted. “You’re not the opposite of good.” You laughed. “Look at you! Ever the gentleman!”  He still didn’t look convinced.  “Okay, so what you’re a demon. You used to be an angel, right? So it clearly isn’t as clear cut as ‘angels good, demons bad.’ It makes no difference to how I feel about you. You could be an angel, or a demon, or a bloody unicorn, or just another human and I would feel the same. My feelings aren’t based on what you are, they’re based on who you are.”  Crowley was silent for a few moments. You felt a little self-conscious after opening up way more than you had meant to, but didn’t dare move for fear that he wouldn’t reciprocate your feelings.  “I don’t want to hurt you and make you leave.” He admitted. “You’ve already hurt me.” You replied. “But I’d rather you love me and hurt me than just leave without giving this a go.” This seemed to resonate with him.  “You’re like fucking heroin” he stated, laughing a little.  “How so?” You asked.  “Addictive. Dangerous. Saving me from myself again. Heroine with an ‘e’.”  “Someone’s been listening to Taylor Swift.” You teased, heart thumping so hard you thought it might actually break your ribs.  “Oh, shut up.” He replied, allowing his wings to recede and pulling you into a kiss. It was sweet and soft. His lips slotted perfectly between yours. The rain soaked your face and clothes as he held you tightly against him. 

Finally, you broke apart. You didn’t know how this would play out. After all, Crowley wasn’t human, but you’d be damned if you didn’t at least try. Being damned didn’t seem so bad though if it meant spending more time with this demon. You began to shiver a little as the rain had soaked through to your skin.  “Can you please stop this rain?” You asked, leaning into him to try to absorb some of his warmth.  “I quite like it,” he replied. “You look lovely all wet, and I can’t feel a thing.”  “Oh for God’s sake, come inside.” You conceded.  “I’d rather you didn’t evoke Her name in front of me.” He replied.  You rolled your eyes. “I will lock you out.” You teased.  “But, my darling, where would be the fun in that?” He replied, following you inside and pulling you into another long kiss. 

................................................................................................

A/N: thank you for reading, my loves! this was the final part so I hope you are satiated! If not, send me some asks and I would be v happy to do some spin-off one-shots xoxo

[alliedbiscuit]

msr fic / s7 post-closure but pre-all things / wc: 3398

Scully takes Maggie out for a birthday dinner, and you'll never guess who they run into.

************

“So, how are feeling about dessert?” the waiter asks hopefully.

Maggie Scully scoffs. “Oh, no. I couldn’t eat another bite. Maybe just a cup of coffee? Decaf, please.”

“Mom, are you sure? You should get dessert,” Dana Scully prods, stopping herself short before she could let it slip, “It’s your birthday!” The last gift her mother would appreciate is a gaggle of underpaid waiters singing some public-domain-compliant version of a birthday song while the whole restaurant turns its attention toward her. Like mother, like daughter.

Well, the daughter made an exception and found that kind of thing charming exactly once. But at least she got a nice keychain out of it. All her mother would get was humiliation and a chocolate lava cake.

As soon as the waiter leaves to fetch their after dinner coffees, Maggie reveals her true intentions.

“I was thinking we could go to that ice cream parlor down the street. If I’m going to indulge, I think I want a hot fudge sundae. Or maybe we could split a banana split?”

“Or you could get a hot fudge sundae and I could get a banana split, and we could split both,” Scully suggests.

“See, that’s why you work for the FBI.”

“Dessert Conflict Resolution was part of my training at Quantico.”

Both Scullys giggle.

“Does Fox have the same specialty? Or is that what you bring to the team?”

“Mulder’s dessert strategy is just to eat everything and then swim a mile and run five the next day. No, he’s a Takeout Menu Marksman, though. He knows where to order from and what to order so it travels the best and doesn’t get cold and congealed by the time it arrives. Might sound like a trivial skill, but it’s a lifesaver on movie night.”

Maggie continues smiling but cocks her head slightly. Dana realizes why almost instantly.

“You have movie night?”

“It’s not a set thing or anything. We just…if we’re not busy with a case.”

“You just watch movies? As coworkers?”

“As friends.”

“Just friends?”

Dana lets out a long sigh as she stares her mother down. Her mother, maintaining that gentle yet challenging grin. Dana considers her response carefully. She could offer a simple yes because that is the fact of the matter. They are just friends. She could criticize the wording choice. “Just” friends? Why does it have to be “just” friends? As if friendship isn’t somehow enough or isn’t valuable?

She could realize it’s her mother’s birthday and she’s the only other Scully woman left to confide in about matters of the heart, and although she doesn’t want to bring up the New Year’s kiss because she still doesn’t really know what it meant, maybe they both need this little gift of honesty, filled with tempered excitement and promise.

“For now,” Dana Scully finally admits.

Maggie’s grin grows as Scully just shakes her head and manages to keep her slight eye roll from reaching embarrassed teenager level. The waiter does bail her out a bit by choosing that moment to deliver their coffees.

“How is Fox doing? After his mother…” Maggie trails off, but her daughter knows not to expect any more specifics.

“Better? I mean, as well as can be expected. The thing is, right after that, he found out some more about his sister. About what happened to her. It was just so much all at once. I was really worried…”

Maggie reaches across the table to lay a hand on hers.

“But, it was almost like he was ready for it. He finally had some answers. Like it brought him some peace.”

“That’s wonderful.”

“Yeah. He needed that.”

“We all do.”

*************

Maggie is the one to spot him first as they’re heading for the door.

“Is that- is that Fox?” she asks her daughter.

“What? No, he wouldn't…” Dana trails off as she looks straight ahead to where her mother was indicating and confirms that it is indeed Fox Mulder, standing with his hands in his pockets and his eyes trained to the floor as he appears to be waiting near the vestibule for the restrooms.

“Mulder?” Scully questions as she approaches, her voice giving away her confusion and growing concern.

His head darts up in surprise, but a beaming smile of recognition quickly overtakes his face.

“Hey, Scully! Mrs. Scully, it’s so nice to see you!”

“You too, Fox,” Maggie kindly replies, although a quick glance to her daughter confirms her suspicion that Dana is still very confused by his presence.

“Did you…did you need something?” She suddenly feels silly for presuming that he must have come there with urgent news or a case or something, but why else would Fox Mulder be at Petrino’s on a Saturday night? Did his informants trade in clandestine meetings in parking garages for family-style Italian?

“Hmm?” Mulder asks.

“You didn’t come here to find me? I told you I was bringing my mom here for her birthday, didn’t I?” He didn’t look like he had rushed to the restaurant from the office or his apartment as she had originally assumed. He had clearly shaved and combed his hair nicely. He wore an olive green sweater with dark blue jeans and a black wool pea coat rather than his leather jacket. He had definitely made an effort.

“You did, but I thought you were going out tomorrow night on her actual birthday. Happy birthday, by the way, Mrs. Scully.”

“Thank you, Fox. I’m going to have lunch with some ladies from church after mass tomorrow, so I asked Dana if we could do Saturday night instead.”

“Ah. What a weird coincidence then. I can’t believe we didn’t see you at all during dinner.”

We.

Oh God.

Mulder was on a date.

Mulder was on a date in this restaurant on the night he thought Scully wasn’t going to be there. Mulder was on a date right after Scully had confessed to her mother (and herself) that their “just friends” status was in the process of changing. Mulder was on a date right after he’d been through so much pain but seemed to come out lighter and more open and he wanted to share it with someone…who wasn’t Dana Scully.

“So, you’ve already eaten then?” Maggie asks since her daughter appears unable to form a coherent statement at the moment.

“Yeah, we just finished. I’m just waiting for her…” he seems to trail off just to motion towards the restroom rather than say anything indelicate, but then he notices Maggie’s poorly masked look of concern toward Dana, and then he notices Dana’s completely unmasked look of shock.

And then he gets it.

“Oh, no! It’s not…I want you to meet her,” Mulder insists as he grabs a hold of both of Scully’s elbows and then glances anxiously toward the restroom door.

Dana Scully looks like she might be ill.

Thankfully Mulder only stammers a moment longer until the restroom door opens and he finds reprieve when a tall, thin woman appearing to be in her mid-60s walks through the door.

“Aunt Helen,” Mulder calls.

Somehow Scully’s eyes manage to get even wider as some of the color returns to her face.

“Aunt Helen, there are a few people I’d really like you to meet. This is my partner, Dana Scully, and this is her mother, Margaret Scully.”

Aunt Helen smiles widely in recognition, first shaking Maggie’s hand and then Dana’s. “It is such a pleasure to meet you both. I’ve heard such wonderful things.”

She lingers with her hand holding Dana’s while she says this, and the younger Scully is left blushing. She hazards a look at Mulder, but he doesn’t look embarrassed by this revelation. He holds her gaze with nothing but pride.

“This is my aunt, Helen Briggs. She’s my mom’s sister. She’s visiting for the weekend from Charlotte.”

They all kind of marvel over the fact that they were in the same restaurant and what a coincidence and oh, we were seated near the back bar, that must be why we didn’t see you and Scully is just starting to feel her pulse return to normal as Aunt Helen laments not having a chance to talk with the Scullys.

“Well, Dana and I skipped dessert so we could go to The Big Dipper for some ice cream. Would you two like to join us?”

“Oh, that would be lovely. As long as we’re not intruding,” says Aunt Helen.

“Not at all,” Scully assures her. “There is one catch, though.”

“It’s not real ice cream. It’s that Tofutti nonsense, isn’t it?” Mulder groans.

“It better not be,” Maggie insists. “I don’t know how she eats that stuff.”

Scully ignores her mother and her partner’s bad mouthing of her frozen treats as she returns her attention to Aunt Helen.

“I’m afraid if you want to come along, you will have to reveal a few good Young Mulder stories. And by ‘a few,’ I mean as many as you’ve got. And by ‘good,’ I mean the more embarrassing the better.”

“I’ll start thinking now,” Aunt Helen laughs.

“I knew I should’ve picked a different restaurant,” Mulder says regretfully.

***********

They’ve just sat down to a small, round table for four with their ice cream when Mulder stands up to get them all more napkins, and Aunt Helen retrieves a small, rectangular piece of paper from her purse that she then deftly slides to Dana.

“Oh my god!” Scully exclaims with joy.

Staring back at her from the paper is a very young Fox Mulder. She guesses he must be around 8 or 9 in the school photo. His long, sandy brown hair falls just above his eyebrows. He doesn’t have his distinctive nose yet, but his bottom lip is already a little pouty. The real give away is the eyes. He’s grinning for the camera, but his eyes still have that soulfulness, that slight sadness.

She’s surprised. She knows she shouldn’t be. His eyes didn’t suddenly change when Samantha was taken. His eyes were probably always like that.

But she had always assumed that the great tragedy had flipped a switch for Young Fox Mulder. That before that single event, he had certainly been a perfectly happy child. Funny and athletic, popular for sure. But the humor developed as a defense mechanism later in life. And the sports were a great physical release as well as an excuse to be out of the house as much as possible. She didn’t actually know what he was like before, but now that she thought about it, home life was probably never all that great if it eventually led to a father sacrificing one child and leaving the other to always live with the guilt and loss.

It was very possible that Fox Mulder had always been a little boy with a lot on his mind.

In contrast, present day, adult Fox Mulder looks like he doesn’t have a care in the world as he returns with extra napkins, ready to tuck into his chocolate peanut butter ice cream in a waffle cone – that is until he realizes what his friend and partner Dana Scully is looking at.

“Oh come on. I was gone for thirty seconds, and you have the visual aids out.”

Scully continues to beam as Maggie finally gets a glimpse of the photo in her hand.

“Oh, Fox!”

“Okay,” Mulder said exasperatedly. “Does this meet your embarrassment quota?” he asks, looking pointedly at Scully.

“Not even close! This isn’t embarrassing. It’s adorable!”

Mulder rolls his eyes but can’t hide his bashful grin at her comment.

“It’s only fair, Fox. I know you’ve seen family photos of Dana at my house,” Mrs. Scully says, sounding like a mother well practiced in settling disputes between children.

“Just a couple. I do like that high school graduation picture, though. I still don’t know how you kept your cap on with all that hair.”

“That was the style back then. Everybody teased their hair and used a ton of hairspray.”

“I thought it might be a religious thing at Catholic school. The higher the hair, the closer to God,” Mulder teases.

Maggie and Aunt Helen chuckle, though the latter gives him a good-natured swat on the arm in admonishment.

“See, this is what I need, though. I need something from the teen years. That’s peak embarrassment fodder,” Scully says.

“If you ask our colleagues, I think my peak embarrassment fodder would come from about 1991 to present,” Mulder points out.

Aunt Helen just looks slightly regretful. “I’m afraid I don’t have many stories from those years, Dana.”

Mulder makes eye contact with Aunt Helen. “You didn’t miss much,” he insists. She looks like she wants to debate him, but he just places a hand on hers reassuringly, and they seem to make a silent agreement to not argue the point any further.

Mulder had never really mentioned any other family before. She knew his grandparents had all passed before she met him, but she had assumed, just like with everything else, that any other extended family connections had disappeared along with Samantha. That no one would know how to comfort and console The Mulders in a situation like that, with no explanation.

His aunts and uncles must have had questions, probably even had their own theories. Did his mother’s side suspect his father’s involvement, or did his father’s side blame his mother somehow? Did any of them blame…no, she couldn’t go down that route. Besides, did anyone ever suspect horrific things like that before the days of cable news and supermarket tabloids?

The point is, it was a tense situation, so Scully assumed they had all done what wealthy white people in places like Martha’s Vineyard and Boston and Raleigh did with any uncomfortable subject – they avoided it completely.

And that meant avoiding the little boy with a lot on his mind as he became a teenager with even more on his mind.

Scully had accompanied Mulder to a small burial service for his mother in Raleigh a few months ago. It was just the service. No gathering or dinner after, or at least not one that Mulder told her about. The attendees at the service were all pretty spread out, not much mingling. Again, it was another sudden loss shrouded in mystery. They all avoided particulars as much as they could.

Scully didn’t remember seeing Aunt Helen that day, but maybe she was there and just couldn’t bring herself to say anything. Maybe she wasn’t there because she couldn’t bring herself to go and then regretted it. Dana Scully didn’t know, and it didn’t actually matter. The point is that she’s here now. And that’s exactly what Mulder’s look of reassurance and acceptance seems to say.

It seems to help her perk up because she offers playfully, “Oh, what about that summer on Quonochontaug? I think you were 9 or so, and you were collecting leaves for one of your Indian Guide badges.”

“Oh god!”

“I’m hooked already. Not to jump ahead, but please tell me there’s poison ivy involved,” Scully says gleefully.

Aunt Helen’s bark of laughter and Mulder’s exaggerated eye roll are all the confirmation she needs.

“It was heavily involved! But that’s not the worst part. While he was working on his Leaf Collecting badge, he also earned credit towards his Wildlife badge when he came across a skunk in the woods.”

“No!” Scully shouts.

“Ivyed and skunked at the same time,” Mulder admits.

“Oh you poor thing,” Maggie adds sympathetically, but with barely contained laughter.

“He had to jump right from a tomato juice bath for the skunk smell…”

“Which didn’t work!”

“…into an oatmeal bath for the itching.”

“Which worked better, but I still smelled like a Grateful Dead concert.”

Both Scullys are full on giggling at this point.

“Do you remember what Grandpa Ralph said when he walked in and saw you and mom dunking me in a tub of oatmeal?” Mulder asks.

Aunt Helen pitches her voice deeper and amps up her Southern twang, “Why don’t cha dip him in some egg and flour next? We toss him in the frying pan, we got supper! We’re havin’ Fried Fox tonight!”

Now they’re all in hysterics. Even the man who usually hates his given name can’t help but laugh along, especially when it makes his lovely company so happy.

*****************

Scully enters the basement office Monday morning to find Mulder already there, flipping through an open drawer in the filing cabinet.

“Good morning,” she says cheerfully.

He looks up and smiles. “Good morning. Long time no see.”

“How was the rest of your weekend? Did you guys do any sightseeing or anything?”

“No, we just had a late breakfast yesterday before I took her to the airport, but it was good to catch up some more. She told me to thank you again for letting us tag along for ice cream. It was really nice.”

“It was,” Scully agrees.

Mulder appears to be considering something for a moment before he crosses over to the desk and picks up a small envelope.

“She also told me to give this to you,” he says almost bashfully, extending the envelope in Scully’s direction. “She told me I couldn’t look inside, and I didn’t. But I think I know what’s in there, and if I’m right, you don’t have to keep it. You can just leave it here on the desk.”

Well, now she’s intrigued. Scully opens the envelope to find a small handwritten note at the top.

“I thought you might like these. I have plenty more too, if you’d ever like to see them or want any more stories. Please don’t be a stranger.”

Scully lifts up the note to see the remaining contents inside and finds a small stack of photographs, a mixture of more school photos along with a few wallet-sized family portraits and a couple candids taken on the beaches of the Vineyard or Rhode Island, she can’t tell. But she sees the same set of eyes in all of them.

She looks back to read the rest of the note.

“I’m so glad I got to meet you, Dana. Take care!”

Below Aunt Helen’s elegant signature, she has also written her home address and phone number. Scully will have to call and thank her.

“She tried to give some to me,” Mulder explains, “but I didn’t really want…and like I said, you don’t have to…”

“No, I’d like to keep them,” Dana insists.

Mulder lets her statement hang in the air for a moment, but he can’t help but diffuse it.

“You just want more blackmail material.”

“Something like that,” Scully says teasingly, but there’s no bite behind it.

“I knew I should’ve picked a different restaurant.”

She chuckles lightly as she shuffles the photos into a neat stack to place back in the envelope, thinking that this is the point where they get back to work. Mulder stays standing in front of her and appears to be considering something again. Does he have another envelope that he’s afraid to give her?

“You know it was pure luck that we ended up at Petrino’s the same night as you. I actually gave Aunt Helen a few options and let her choose. I was pushing more for that Thai place in Arlington, just off Old Dominion. The one that’s been there forever,” Mulder explains.

“Oh, the one with the secret menu? I’ve still never been there. Can’t say I’m surprised that Aunt Helen wasn’t up for Thai food, though.”

“Yeah. Fair point,” Mulder nods for a moment too long before continuing. “Would you like to go there sometime? Like this Saturday? With me?”

Scully slowly looks up from the envelope to see Mulder’s face because in all matters, other than the divine, Dana Scully needs to see to believe. And the slightly nervous yet gentle grin that she finds allows her to believe it to be true – Fox Mulder has just asked her out on a real date.

“I would like that,” Scully says gently.

“Good. You wanna say 7:30? Or we can always figure out time later,” Mulder states, aiming for practicality to keep him from grinning like a complete idiot. He ends up grinning like a moderate idiot, but he’s okay with that.

“Sounds good.”

Yep, Scully will definitely have to call Aunt Helen and thank her.

[sunlight-moonrise]

The Five Dates (Reid Request)

Summary: Reader decides that she wants to help Spencer experience the things he missed out on when he was a teenager. 

A/N: I had a couple of people ask for a part 2 to The Five Times so here it is. Originally was gonna leave that fic as a standalone but writer’s block on my other WIPs led to this sequel. I strongly recommend reading the first part before reading this one so that the story-line makes more sense. As always, thank you to the lovely @spencer-reid-in-a-pool and​ @wishingwellwriting​ for being fantastic betas. They have amazing fics, so if you need another Spencer Reid fix, they can most definitely deliver. Enjoy!

Category: Fluff

Content Warnings: None

Word Count: 6.0K

Masterlist

The first date I had with my neighbor, I don’t think it really counted as a date.

Spencer and I were eating dinner at my apartment after he told me the man who tried to attack me was in custody. We were sitting on the couch with the TV on but I didn’t know what was playing since we were talking the whole time.

He told me that he does magic tricks, enjoys ghost stories, and loves to learn. In return, I told him my favorite hobbies, some habits that I can’t get out of, and food that I enjoy cooking. He listened with rapt attention, hanging on to every word I said. It was amazing being able to spend time with someone like this. It felt like I’ve known him for years rather than a few months.

“…and that’s probably my worst experience from school,” I finished, recounting the tales of my teenage years. “What about you? Anything you wish you can take back from the early days?”

Spencer suddenly turned away from me and became silent. I looked at him in confusion. Was it something I said? Did I offend him?

“Oh, I—I’m sorry. Did I say something wrong?” I asked, my voice coming out as a whisper because of how low I spoke.

He quickly shook his head, as if driving away some bad thoughts that plagued his mind. “It’s not you. It’s just that I was a 12-year-old prodigy at a public high school in Vegas. I didn’t have a lot of fun experiences.”

I could hear the sorrow in his words when he told me this. I know how cruel kids could be, especially to someone they considered an outcast. My heart ached for the little boy who went through so much misery at such an early age.

There were a few more seconds of silence before I had a lightbulb moment. “Well, maybe we can change that,” I suggested. “We can do some things that typical teenagers do.” A million ideas immediately came to mind. We can go bowling or ice skating or bike riding.

“I don’t know. I kind of got over that point of my life.”

“Oh.” There was no hiding the sadness in my voice, which made me feel worse. There’s no reason for me to feel dejected over his statement. I shouldn’t be so selfish.

Spencer must have sensed that something was off with me because he quickly tried to correct himself. “It’s not that I don’t want to have these experiences. I just find it embarrassing that I haven’t had them yet, even now.”

“I’m not going to judge you, Spencer. I don’t want you to feel embarrassed with me,” I assured him. I moved my hand towards his as an offer to hold, which he surprisingly took. His hand completely enveloped mine. “Tell me some things that you’ve always wanted to do when you were younger but never got the chance.”

He took a moment to think while I anxiously waited for his response. “I never had the chance to have a sleepover. I had too many responsibilities at the time. I always wanted to go to a festival or a carnival. I also—” he suddenly stopped talking. I noticed his face turning slightly red as he bit his lower lip, his other hand patting against his leg.

“What is it, Spencer?”

“I-uh always wanted to wine and dine a girl, maybe take her to see a play or movie. I wanted to take an evening stroll and just stargaze for a while.” His voice became smaller the more he talked. I hated that he started to feel self-conscious around me but knew that it couldn’t be helped. I was going to change that. I was going to make sure that Spencer Reid experienced teenage fun.

“Anyway, it’s getting late,” he said, removing his hand from mine. “I have to go in tomorrow and I am sure you have an early day as well.”

“Let me put these dishes away and I’ll walk you to the door.” I grabbed our plates and walked to the kitchen, placing them in the sink. My mind was racing with thoughts on what to do for Spencer. When I returned to the living room, he was already by the hallway, grabbing his belongings.

I slowly opened the door for him, watching as he stepped out of the apartment. Before he made it too far, I grabbed the sleeve of his arm, prompting him to turn around. Here goes nothing.

“Spencer Reid, would you like to go on a date with me?” I asked, the pitch of my voice a lot higher than normal. Despite feeling nervous, I made sure to look him in the eye and maintain contact. He stared back at me, mouth agape while his face was turning pink.

“Are you sure?” he questioned, looking down at his feet. Mental note: build up Dr. Reid’s confidence, at least around me.

“I have never been more certain of anything in my life,” I answered honestly. I smiled at him when I noticed his lips tugging upwards.

“Yes. I would like to go on a date with you, (Y/N).” The smile on his face was adorable and I was happy to be the cause of it. “Uh m-maybe I could get your number, so that we can talk,” he added.

“Sure.” I took my phone from my pocket before giving it to him. He put in his number, a bit slowly but I wasn’t complaining. I saw it as more time I got to spend with him. Once he handed my phone back, we just stood in front of each other for a while.

Before I lost my resolve, I stood on my tiptoes and pressed my lips against his cheek. Before either of us could do anything, I muttered a quick “Goodnight Dr. Reid,” and closed the door. My heart thumped erratically as I slid down the door.

“Goodnight (Y/N)” I heard through the block keeping us apart. His footsteps got quieter and quieter until he eventually opened and closed his own door.

At that moment I couldn’t help but think that I was definitely infatuated with Spencer Reid.

●●●

The second date I had with Dr. Reid, I was a nervous wreck.

Spencer and I have been texting back and forth these last few days. Luckily, we were both free this weekend, so we planned on going out. I haven’t told him yet where we’re going, much to his dismay. The only hint I gave him was to dress casually.

I’ve done some research and found that there was a food festival happening Saturday afternoon. A lot of local restaurants will have stands and distant establishments will be sending food trucks. Their theme is “Around the World” so we’ll get to explore various cultures. I’m hoping we can learn some new things from the different cuisines that would be showcased.

Saturday came around and I made sure I had everything ready. I wanted our date to go off without a hitch. I wanted this to be one of Spencer’s best experiences.

I heard a knock on my door, causing my heart to pick up a bit. I don’t know why I started to sweat. Sure, I’m going on a date with a good looking and successful man but there’s nothing to be nervous about, right? Right.

I heard another knock, more hesitant this time. I quickly made my way towards my door, taking a deep breath before opening it. Thank the angels I took in that breath because I immediately lost it again at the sight of him. 

Spencer was holding a bouquet of flowers in his hand. Lavender roses and red carnations were a few that I could identify. I think the purple flower might be an orchid. 

He lifted them towards me, a slight tremor in his hands. “These are for you.” 

“They’re lovely Spencer, thank you.” I grabbed the flowers from him, taking in the smell of the blossoms. “I’m going to put these in a vase. I’ll be right back.”

I made my way to the living room to do just that. I grabbed my bag and a jacket before checking myself in the mirror one last time. Happy with my appearance, I returned back to Spencer. I shut the door behind us as we walked towards the elevator.

“You look beautiful, by the way,” Spencer said as we entered the elevator. I can tell he was still nervous, the thrumming of his fingers against one another and the bouncing on his feet a few signs hinting towards his anxious state.

“You look dashing as well. Although I do remember telling you to dress casually, mister,” I said, a small smile appearing on my face at the sight of his own.

Spencer was wearing a dark pair of slacks with a light purple button-down shirt. His hair was slicked and combed back. He was rocking back and forth on his beat-upped chucks and I can see the mismatched socks peeking through. He looked a bit silly, especially considering where we are going, but handsome nonetheless.

“I don’t have casual clothing. Plus I wanted to look good for you.” I could feel my face getting warm because of his words. “By the way, it’s doctor.”

I giggled at his comment, which caused him to laugh as well. We exited the elevator and out of the lobby.

“We’re going to take the subway to our destination,” I informed him. “It should take less than half an hour to get there.”

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going now?”

“It’s still a surprise, doctor,” I beamed at him.

Fortunately, we did not experience any delays on the train. We spent the duration of the commute getting to know one another even more. He told me some stories involving outings with his co-workers and I could tell that he really loved each and every one of them. I shared some work stories and funny memories with my colleagues as well.

Once we got to our stop, I grabbed his hand and led us to the festival. It was a 10-minute walk from the exit. I turned to him as soon as I saw our destination within our sights.

“A food and wine festival?” he questioned.

“Yeah, I know this isn’t exactly what you had in mind when we were talking the other day but I thou—“

“I like it, especially since I’m  spending the day with you.” There goes my heart again, picking up pace as if I ran a marathon. I’m sure he says these things on purpose just to see me flustered.  

Spencer squeezed my hand in his and we explored the grounds. We decided to share a plate from each stall so that we can experience as much as possible. Spencer walked us to the first stall he saw, which showcased food from the Philippines.

“Did you know that Filipino food draws roots from their neighboring Asian nations as well as some Spanish countries?” he stated as we looked at the menu, “It is considered to be a perfect blend of Western and Eastern food. Actually—” he suddenly stopped himself. I looked at him curiously, wondering what caused his interruption.

“Sorry, I have a tendency to ramble.”

“There’s no need to apologize. I want to hear what you have to say. Let’s order something and you can finish telling me.”

He smiled brightly at me and squeezed my hand. After ordering a siopao to share, we sat at a table while he finished telling me facts about Filipino cuisine. As a matter of fact, he told me a lot of information about various cultures and countries as we walked from vendor to vendor.

We tried risotto from an Italian booth, which Spencer said was not as good as his friend’s cooking. We also got carne asada tacos from a Mexican food truck, where I discovered that tomatoes, dragon fruit, and vanilla originated from Mexico. We ate some sake nigiri sushi from a Japanese stand. I found out that Spencer cannot use chopsticks to save his life. I decided to feed him so that he doesn’t accidentally drop our food. We ventured to numerous vendors and had our fill in almost everything that was offered. We even had desserts and some drinks.

By the time Spencer and I made it back to our apartments, we were both stuffed. I was close to going into a food coma and I knew Spencer wasn’t far behind either.

“I don’t think I’ve ever eaten that much food in my life,” he commented as we stood in front of my door.

“You and me both. I’m sure I gained 10 pounds,” I joked, enjoying the way he laughed at my attempt at being humorous. I still held his hand in mine, not wanting the evening to end, but I knew it had to. We had spent the whole day together and we were tired.

Spencer made the decision for us. He lifted my hand, placed a chaste kiss on my knuckles and wished me sweet dreams before he retreated to his own home.

At that moment I couldn’t help but think that I was definitely charmed by Spencer Reid.

●●●

The third date I had with Spencer was ruined, but then fixed.

I was organizing a picnic basket when I received a call from him. I was puzzled as to why he was calling, especially when we’re supposed to meet up in a couple of hours.

“Hey (Y/N)” His voice came out gruff as if he just woke up.

“Hi Spencer, are you okay?” I heard some coughs coming from his end and I immediately became concerned over his well-being

“I don’t think I can go out this afternoon. I’ve been sick these past few days. I was really hoping to get back on my feet by now. I am so sorry.”

Before he could say anything else, because I knew he would in his remorseful state, I interrupted him. “Spencer, it's fine. We’ll raincheck,” I assured him. He tried to thank me, but another set of coughs came over. These sounded worse than the first ones.

Spencer managed to get out a goodbye before hanging up the phone. I contemplated what to do. He sounded so sick and miserable on the phone. He likely has a sore throat, maybe even muscle aches. The idea of him alone and shivering caused a dull pain in me.

I decided that I was going to see this man. I could make him something warm to eat and lend him my thickest blanket. We could even watch a movie together too.

With that in mind, I made some chicken soup and herbal tea. I put the items in containers before placing them in my picnic basket. I grabbed my largest and heaviest blanket, placing it over my shoulder. It wouldn’t fit in the basket, no matter how many times I folded it. Lastly, I grabbed my laptop, so that we can stream movies. Spencer once told me he wasn’t big on technology so I had no idea whether he owned a TV or not.

Once I had all the essential items, I made my way across the hall, knocking on his door. Unsurprisingly, it took a while for him to open the door. I waited a minute or two before he answered and was disheartened by what I saw.

Spencer was pale, well paler than usual, with a light sheen of sweat on his forehead.  His under eyes were dark and his nose was so red. He wore a robe over his pajamas. He looked as if he was about to fall over any second now.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, eyeing the blanket wrapped around me. His voice was slightly slurred and he was leaning on the doorframe to keep himself up.

“Well I figured since I couldn’t take you out on a picnic, I’ll take the picnic to you.”

He looked down at my hands, noticing the basket I was holding.

“You shouldn’t be around me, you’ll get sick.”

“Spencer Reid, you’re worth the cooties. May I please come in?”

He relented, leaving the door open for me to follow. I took in his apartment, appreciating his more vintage style. He had a massive collection of books, some of them in languages I couldn’t even identify.

“You have a miniature bookstore in here,” I commented. I turned towards him, seeing his figure laying down on the couch. 

“I like to read,” he simply said, the words muffled by the couch cushion he was lying on. I went towards him, shrugging off the blanket from me and placing it on top of his lap.

“If you get cold, use this to keep you warm. I’m going to heat up the soup and tea. Try to stay awake for me.”

Spencer nodded his head, bunching up the soft material in his hands. I quickly grabbed the content from the basket and dashed to the kitchen. It took me a few minutes to find where he puts his utensils, but I had everything taken care of in no time. I even found a tray to help me carry the food.

I brought the dishes to him, warning him of the heat. “I hope you like chicken soup and ginger tea. I added some honey to satisfy your sweet tooth.” He thanked me, holding the bowl close to him to keep him warm. I settled myself on the couch next to him, happy that he wasn’t complaining about our proximity.

“I have my laptop with me. We can watch some movies if you want.”

“I’d like that a lot.” We ended up watching The Matrix and Minority Report. Spencer tried his best to stay quiet during the films, but couldn’t help but to comment about certain technicalities and improbabilities. I found his rambling endearing, adding in my own opinions after he finished sharing his thoughts. I had to remind him to not strain his voice when he got on a tangent on how the idea of living in a simulation is not possible. He lost me once he started talking about quantum physics.

Spencer looked at the clock, noticing the late hour. “Are you going to leave?” His voice was low, and I am positive it was not because of his ill state. He was talking with passion and intensity a few moments ago.

“Do you want me to?”

“No. Is that selfish of me?” My heart skipped a beat. Knowing that he wanted me to stay with him gave me feelings I couldn’t quite describe.

“Of course not, Spence. We could have that sleepover you missed out on,” I stated enthusiastically. He stared at me for a moment, and I wondered if I misunderstood the situation. Before I could apologize for my assumption, he started talking.

“That’s the first time you called me Spence.” He’s right. All this time I’ve been addressing him as Spencer or Dr. Reid. “I like it,” he finished.         

“Let me grab my pajamas and some toiletries. I’ll be back before you know it.”

I sprinted to my apartment, changing into my sleepwear and grabbing my necessities before returning to Spencer’s. I am sure I was there and back under five minutes.

Spencer and I continued our evening playing board games. We played some chess (which I lost at) as well as poker (which I also lost at). He showed some card tricks and tried to teach me a basic one. I couldn’t do it as smoothly, but he said that with practice I could become a magician.

I knew the night was coming to an end when he began to yawn every few minutes. Despite saying that he could stay up longer, his body needed to recover.

“You should take my bedroom,” he offered after coming back from the restroom, “You’ll be comfortable there.”

“Absolutely not. Slumber Party rules dictate that we sleep in the same room.” He laughed at my proclamation.

“That’s not true.”

“Yes, it is. Now I’m going to use your bathroom. Do you keep your spare sheets in the closet?”

He nodded drowsily as I made my way to his bathroom. I did my nightly routine and grabbed a blanket from the closet. When I returned to Spencer, he was already dozing off.   

He looked so peaceful at this moment, I’ve never seen such a look on him. I kissed the bridge of his nose and made my way to the armchair.

 I settled myself as comfortably as I can.. Before I fell asleep, I could have sworn I heard a “Goodnight” coming from his direction. When I peeked to see if he was awake, his eyes were still closed but he had a wide smile on his face.

At that moment I couldn’t help but think that I was definitely captivated by Spencer Reid.

●●●

The fourth date I had with Spence, he was in charge.

Spencer told me that he wanted to take me out as a way to show his gratitude. I wanted to tell him that it was unnecessary, but he looked so eager and I didn’t want to take that away. Plus, I was looking forward to whatever he came up with. I know that with Spencer, I am bound to have a good time.

He kept everything a secret for me, which was no surprise considering how our first official date went down. The only thing he told me was to dress nicely, yet comfortably.

My body was pulsating with excitement. I made sure to spend extra time with my makeup. I didn’t want to go overboard, but I definitely wanted to accentuate my features. I chose to wear a maxi skirt with my favorite blouse. I added a few accessories and paired everything with some heels.

I didn’t have to wait long before hearing a knock on the door. He always seems to have impeccable timing. I practically floated towards my door with how happy I was.

Spencer was dressed in black dress pants and a deep blue button-down. The outfit was accompanied with a dark tie and blazer combo. He even had dress shoes on, which came as a surprise since this man loves his chucks.

“You look as handsome as always, Doc.” He smiled at my words. I love that he was more comfortable with my compliments. It seems like we came a long way from him stammering over his words and fidgeting with his hands. Although I must admit that I am going to miss his bashful behavior.

“I got this for you.” He revealed what appeared to be a corsage in his hands, the flowers of the accessory matching the one pinned to his blazer. “Uh- I-I know it is probably a bit um juvenile. You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to.”

“Spence, I love it. And I’ll love it more if you put it on me.”

He beamed at me, taking the corsage out of the casing and carefully securing it on my wrist. He was so gentle and patient while doing the task. Once he was done, we headed down to the lobby.

“I hope you don’t mind that I am driving,” he said as we made our way to what I assumed to be his car, a two-door pale blue Volvo. I was not surprised, this is his exact style.

“As long as you get us to our location in one piece, I don’t mind at all.” He opened my door for me before settling in on the driver’s side.

As Spencer drove, we talked about the antique style of his possessions. He shared that his Mom had a similar taste and he was very close to her when he was younger. I wanted to ask more, elated that he was telling me about his family, but decided to hold back. The way his voice wavered as he was talking showed me that this was a major effort for him. I decided to share some stories about my family and their influence over my own lifestyle.

Time always seems to fly with Spencer because before I knew it we were already parked. Being the chivalrous man that he is, Spencer made sure to open my door for me. He held my hand as we walked to the restaurant. I admired the ambiance of the venue. There was a band playing soft jazz music and lights scattered upon the ceiling. The décor was beautiful and the overall atmosphere was very cozy.

The hostess led us to our seats after Spencer informed her of our reservation. We sat at a corner table, providing us the perfect amount of privacy.

“Have you been here before?” I asked.

“No, I haven’t. As a matter of fact, a friend of mine recommended this place. He said that it was the perfect place to...uh, woo a girl.”

“Well, I am entirely wooed. But that is mostly due to the present company.” He smiled at me, before looking at the menu. I decided to do the same after noticing the pink tint at the tip of his ears. I still got it.

The rest of our dinner went smoothly. We ordered our meals as well as a glass of wine, in which I was informed of the many health benefits that come with drinking a glass of red. I was able to convince Spencer to show me a magic trick using a coin and napkin. He did it multiple times, yet I couldn’t find out how it worked. We talked about music, literature, art and so much more. We were so deep into our conversation that we didn’t notice our food had arrived.

My food smelled amazing and tasted even better. I couldn’t help but ask Spencer for a bite of his. He was willing to share as long as he got a piece of my food as well. We ended up splitting our meals with each other.

After paying for the entire bill, much to my protest, Spencer took my hand and led me out of the restaurant. I thought it would be the end of our night together but was wrong. Spencer said that there was one more surprise for me.

The car ride this time was a bit on the longer side and I wondered where on earth he could be taking us. It wasn’t until I saw a sign that a large smile appeared on my face.

“A drive-in theater?” I excitedly asked.

“Yes,” he confirmed, “I hope you don’t mind watching a scary movie.”

“As long as you don’t mind me holding you when I get scared.”

“Deal.” 

It was not difficult to find a good spot to enjoy the film. I screamed and jumped multiple times for two hours straight, much to Spencer’s amusement. He attempted to distract me by telling me facts about certain aspects of the movie which marginally helped. By the end of the film, I had started to get drowsy due to all the mini shots of adrenaline.

“Did you have fun?” he asked as he drove us home. I could hear the uneasiness in his question. I’m not sure why he was nervous, this was hands down the most fun I ever had on a date.

“Of course, Spence. This had to be the best date I ever went on. Thank you.”

He smiled widely at the road and I made sure to cherish the moment. It was not often that I got to see such a large grin on Spencer’s face. Happiness was such a good look on him. It makes him appear much more lively and handsome.

I closed my eyes, allowing them to rest momentarily. I didn’t expect to be so tired from an outing. The motion of the car driving on smooth pavement was almost like a lullaby that lured me into a light slumber.

I’m not sure how much time has passed before I was lifted into someone’s arms. If it wasn’t for the scent of coffee and cinnamon, I surely would have panicked. I felt the press of warm lips on my forehead and couldn’t stop the sigh that left my mouth. I buried my head deeper into the arms that cradled me.

At that moment I couldn’t help but think that I definitely adored Spencer Reid.

●●●

The fifth date I had with Spencer was unplanned.

Spencer has been going on cases more often recently, so we didn’t have a chance to meet. We’ve been texting one another, even calling if time allows it, but I wanted to see him.

When he told me that he was finally flying back home, I decided to meet him at his job. I considered whether or not this would be crossing boundaries, but chose to accept the consequences of my actions later.

The drive to the building where Spencer works was not as long as I imagined. After receiving a visitor’s pass from the front desk and a vague direction of where to go, I found myself lost on the sixth floor.

“Can I help you sweetheart?” a feminine voice asked me. I turned to see a brightly colored fashionista in front of me. I was in awe of her vibrant attire. “Hun?”

“Oh uh, I’m sorry. I’m—I’m waiting for Spencer Reid to return. Umm, is there a place where I can wait for him?”

She beamed at me, her comforting smile providing me some relief. “The team isn’t coming for another half hour. You can wait in my office if you’d like.”

I nodded my head and followed her, taking in my surroundings. I have never been in such an official building before.

“Here we are,” said the kind stranger, leading me to a room filled with a bunch of monitors and computers. “I’m Penelope by the way. I work with Spencer and friends.”

“I’m (Y/N), Spencer’s neighbor.” I practically saw a lightbulb go over her head as she let out a squeal. Penelope started talking a mile a minute, I couldn’t understand what she was saying. It wasn’t until she saw the bewildered expression on my face that she paused and took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry, it’s just that Spencer has spoken about you a few times. I didn’t want to assume initially but I figured who you were earlier. Our resident genius doesn’t get many visitors here.”

My face heated up. I was stuck on the fact that Spencer spoke about me to his colleagues, the people he considers his second family. I wondered what he said. Hopefully nothing too embarrassing, he always seems to catch me at some mortifying moments.

“Anyway,” Penelope continued, “you have to tell me about yourself. Spencer doesn’t share enough details and I promised not to search you up.”

For the next half hour, Penelope and I traded information about ourselves. She told me how she got the job as a technical analyst and some other activities she does outside of work while I told her about my typical routine and favorite pastimes.

Penelope’s phone vibrated and she immediately looked at her screen. “They’re here. Let’s go meet them upfront.”

We walked back to where I came from, standing in front of the elevators. We didn’t have to wait long for the doors to open before I saw a pack of people exiting. My eyes instantly landed on Spencer, he was the tallest in the group.

Spencer was currently looking at his phone, typing something on the screen. He finally brought his head up once he put his cell away and I felt mine vibrate with a notification. Once his eyes landed on me, he pushed past the people he was with and darted towards me.

I opened my arms as he drew me into a tight hug. It is a shame that I have not embraced Spencer more because he gives the best hugs. Everything about him automatically puts me in a tranquil state of mind.

“What are you doing here?” he asked once he put some space between us.

“I wanted to see you. Is that okay?”

“It’s more than okay. I missed you.” That beautiful smile graced his face one more. How is it possible that this man is in my life?

The sound of someone clearing their throat pulled Spencer and I away from our bubble. My face heated up as I saw his friends surrounding us.

“Who’s this pretty lady Reid?” asked the muscular man. I looked at all his colleagues, recognizing the blonde as the woman who was at his apartment a couple of months ago. That was when I mistakenly thought she was his girlfriend. She smiled at me, no doubt knowing who I was.

“This is (Y/N), she’s my gi—uh she’s my ummm …” he trailed off, glancing at me. I didn’t notice that we have yet to establish our relationship with one another.

“I’m his neighbor,” I finished. Spencer introduced me to his team before telling me to wait while he gathered his belongings. During his absence, Penelope convinced me to join her for a girl’s night out in the future with the other ladies. I couldn’t say no to the offer, her enthusiasm was seeping through her pores.

When Spencer returned, he grabbed my hand and said his goodbyes while leading us to the elevator. I saw Penelope whisper excitedly to the muscular man that I learned was named Derek, before the doors even got a chance to close.

“My car is here. I can drive us back home,” I informed Spencer.

He nodded his head as we exited the building and made our way to the car. I know that Spencer does not particularly like to discuss his cases, so instead I asked him questions of the places he has been at recently and whether he had the chance to explore. He animatedly told me of a book he purchased that was in a foreign language as well as a vinyl record he got at a music store.

“Can we go to the park?” he suddenly asked. I was a bit confused but decided not to question him.

“Yea, sure.”

The park was not far from where we currently were. After finding a spot and getting out, he took my hand in his once again, leading us down a serene trail. The sound of crickets chirping while the soft wind breezed through us was very relaxing. I looked up at the sky, taking in the tiny visible stars and full moon.

Spencer stopped walking in the middle of the trail, tugging my hand so that I was closer to him. He stared at me as his tongue brushed across his lips.   

“(Y/N)?” His voice had that shy tone once again.

“Yes, Spencer?” He brought his hand up to tuck some loose strands of hair behind my ear.

“May I kiss you?”

My heart started racing at his question. Yes, yes, a thousand times yes. My voice was stuck in my throat so I nodded my head instead.

Spencer’s hand gently held my cheek as he leaned down towards me. I closed my eyes once his soft lips landed on mine, wrapping my free hand around his neck. He tasted sweet, as I knew he would. I pressed more firmly against him, enjoying the sound of his moan when I swept my tongue across his lower lip. He allowed me to explore his mouth as he did the same to me.

I pulled away after a while to catch my breath. Spencer placed his forehead against mine, breathing heavier than I have ever seen.

“(Y/N)?” he panted out, his voice a lot more confident than it was beforehand.

“Yes, Spencer?”

“Would you like to be my girlfriend?”

I looked into his gentle hazel eyes, embracing all the emotions he was showing me through them. That gorgeous smile adorned his face once more. He looked so beautiful right here.

“I would love to be your girlfriend, Spence.”

I captured his lips this time around, relishing the warmth of his mouth on mine.

At that moment I couldn’t help but think that I was definitely in love with Spencer Reid.

[7wanderingpaws]

Captain Bucheon 04

Warnings: language, suggestive

Word count: 4.6K

story masterlist masterlist

tags: @wooya1224 @to-all-the-stories-i-love @jennxx3 @realllllrica (let me know if you want to be un/tagged)​

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<-- Previous - Next -->

Fourth: Painful memories

Baekhyun seemed like a distant dream when you awoke the next day. Everything that happened, starting with your obliviousness to his presence at the field all the way to the moment you slapped him and poured your emotions out; they all felt like they never happened. 

It was your throat, raw and sore from screaming, that indicated last night happened. You woke up tired, feeling your nose clogged and head heavy. As if constantly haunting you, behind closed eyes you saw his; they were looking at you, troubled and wavering. Baekhyun was at your mercy last night. And you were merciless.

One of the painful memories was exceptionally difficult to erase from your mind. Baekhyun's words, that he uttered one year ago in his office, were haunting you and making you believe that things could have been different if you were not lying to him.

I would have waited for you.

Those words were running around in front of your eyes, each word snaking itself in confusing circles creating slight dizziness. Would he have really waited, though?

Groaning, you turned to your other side spotting Yuyeon’s sleeping figure. She wasn’t in the room when you arrived last night, enabling you to cry to your heart's content, which you did. You cried yourself to sleep and now, here was the result. Swollen eyes, headache and a sore throat.

Your phone that was safely tucked under your pillow gave a short vibration, indicating a message. You were waiting for it; it was the last working day after all. Weekend was coming up and you couldn’t wait to get the necessary free time to do your school work and recover from shouting at Byun Baekhyun.

You checked the text message and you planned your day ahead accordingly.

Unknown number

Parcel delivery for the weekend by Sunday 23:30. Bucheon Christian University main gate’s security house.

You frowned, mulling over the destination. Until now, it was always an apartment building and, with the new found information that the messages could have possible secondary destinations encoded, you grew a little uneasy. If issues occurred, would there be another option to deliver the parcel to?

><

There was a hustle going on in Baekhyun’s department that day. Several robberies, crimes and attacks and every officer was preoccupied with suffering victims begging for help and justice.

He also had a couple of cases to deal with, yet he kept zoning out. He barely got a wink of sleep and now he needed to be at his best when he would have much rather stayed home and let himself think through stuff. Not that he didn’t have a whole year to think.

“Knock knock, coffee delivery!” 

Park Chanyeol, the number one detective and also Baekhyun’s close friend, walked in, a cup of steaming coffee in his hand. “What’s up Captain?”

“Thanks,” murmured Baekhyun when Chanyeol handed him the mug. “Any news on the case?” he asked, ignoring his friend’s question completely.

Chanyeol crashed on the chair opposite him with a sigh. “Nope,” he replied. “No solid updates. No leads. The attack was sudden and we can’t seem to find a trace of the target.”

Baekhyun sighed. “Two young women have been attacked so far. They were in their mid-twenties.”

“Actually, both of them were in their final year of university,” added Chanyeol with a serious tone.

“That could be a solid lead,” murmured Baekhyun even though his mind was wandering off again. He was quick to zone out on his friend who continued describing the crime scenes, thinking out loud but Baekhyun was already on a completely different page.

You were just seventeen… and he was so heartless. He could vividly remember the actual happenings in his office. He was sitting just where he was seated now, behind his big table full of paperwork and computer while you were becoming smaller and smaller under his smoldering gaze. 

Baekhyun was extremely mad that day. He couldn’t remember the last time he was that mad. Not even the forever annoying Siamsa could annoy him to those bits and he was slowly realizing that it must have been because he liked you much more than he had let himself believe. You betraying his trust, seeing him as a fool and doing stupid stuff behind his back were the exact things he despised in humans. Yet, you did all of them. And one year later, here he was, with you on his mind.

He cringed inwardly when he remembered the harsh words he told you.

You were stupid enough to get caught.

You can be goddamn sure I wouldn’t talk to a KID.

It was a grave mistake to talk to you.

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers, not even catching Chanyeol abruptly stopping his talk. Baekhyun was way too brutal with you. He groaned out loud when he remembered another horrible thing he said. I’m breaking up with you if it wasn’t obvious enough. Plus, I’m arresting you…

“Are you okay? You really seem out of it today.” Chanyeol seemed concerned and even a little perplexed as Baekhyun rarely showed this kind of behavior in front him, let alone showing it at his workplace. In the office, Baekhyun was the one to be scared of, to be respected and bowed to. This Baekhyun seemed like if Chanyeol pushed him with his finger, he'd crumble.

“I'm fine,” muttered back the captain with a throaty voice.

Chanyeol pursed his lips, unsure how to ask what had been on his mind since he entered the office. Instead of wanting to deal with a serious talk, a cheeky glint lit up in his eyes. “Perhaps you met her again?”

“Her?” Baekhyun frowned with a down-ward tilt on his lips.

Chanyeol wiggled his eyebrows as he stretched on the chair. “You know who!” he took a breath and with his deep voice, started to sing:

She looked incredible Just turned 17 I guess my friends are right She's out of my league So what am I to do? She's too good to be true

Baekhyun couldn't help himself when he heard the lyrics his friend correlated with you. They couldn't have been more accurate and despite him being in a bad mood, the idea made him laugh under his nose as he looked on the floor. “Actually, I did. And I got slapped,” he revealed somehow proudly as he let himself sit on his chair, enjoying the astonished look on Chanyeol's face.

“No way!” he straightened up in his seat, leaning forward so he could get a better look at his friend. “She slapped you? Damn, this girl is feisty. She keeps beating up our captain!” he laughed out loud, consumed by the images of you, the young woman in her late teenage years, slapping someone of Baekhyun's calibre.

“Yeah, well, she's always been fearless.” he shrugged, frowning out of a sudden. “I screwed that girl up pretty badly, Chan, but that's no news.”

Chanyeol went quiet for a minute, fully aware of Baekhyun's emotions and the way the past events had been eating him up. “How is she doing these days?”

Baekhyun shrugged. “I guess well? She's lost some weight, but,” he sighed and proceeded to talk about the event that he witnessed with the boys sexually harassing you.

“The kids these days can't keep it in their pants,” cackled Chanyeol in disbelief but Baekhyun was far from entertained. His jaw was locked, the skin pulsing with tension at the mere idea of last night.

“If they ever as much as think about her I swear to god-”

“Whoa, hold on, Baek. You know you can't just get involved.”

“What do you mean I can't just get involved? They were harassing her, and I'm a cop.”

“I think your rage is more fueled because it's about Nari. As much as you seek justice, you shouldn't let your emotions take the better out of you. Besides, people might get suspicious-”

“Chanyeol, what the fuck?” snapped Baekhyun angrily. “If she were any woman I'd do the same.”

“You would not punch in order to protect just any woman.”

“Yes, I would-”

“No, you would do the smart talk and intimidate them with your power and  authority. But you punched the kid, Baek.”

Baekhyun sighed in agitation, his hand coming yet again up to his face, tiredly rubbing at the skin. “So what should I have done? I myself am confused about my emotions but I know I care about her a lot.”

“Of course you care about her. You drank straight up one month after she found out about your fake boyfriend identity and you broke up.”

Baekhyun rolled his eyes, hating the way Chanyeol was so blunt with his words. “Either way, she still hates me.”

“Would you fight for her if she ever gave you a chance?” asked Chanyeol quietly, his fingers nipping at his lower lip in thought.

Baekhyun opened his mouth, ready to answer way too quickly before he stopped himself. He was frozen when he realized the answer that so naturally came to him. Would he fight for you if you ever decided to build the bridges again? He definitely would have one year ago when he came to your high school to see you.

“You're hesitating,” stated Chanyeol and pursed his lips. “I think you're scared, too, captain.”

Baekhyun scoffed but Chanyeol cut him off: “You would hate losing her again. And she is a fragile kid, scarred by everything that happened to her. She could be even more vulnerable with you. Remember that.”

><

“Where are you going?” asked Yuyeon, confused, when you were putting on your black jeans and a black hoodie. The helmet for the scooter was already tucked under your arm, ready to leave for the Saturday night. Time was ticking in your brain and you grew quite anxious about possible bad outcomes of this delivery if you wouldn't leave right away.

“Work,” you shrugged, “will get this done and then I will be free,” you smiled, a little strained but Yuyeon only gave you a suspicious side glance.

“You never work on the weekends! This employer is already playing with you and telling you to work even when it's not your official hours,” she frowned deeply, looking like a sulking child.

You sighed and suppressed the need to roll your eyes. “Okay, mum, I'll be back in time, no worries.”

“You better be! I won't fuss about wanting to go to a club when you're oh so busy.”

“I promise we can go next Friday!” you shouted, opening the door to put on your shoes.

She grumbled in response and you laughed to yourself, slamming the doors behind you when you slid your feet into your boots. Making sure they were tied well, you rushed out into the chilly evening, making your way to the mini-scooter Chul borrowed you so you could get the job done easier.

Bucheon Christian University was a little further away from your campus, so you made sure you followed the map carefully once you got the box from the apartment you usually got it from. The apartment itself was a high-rise, family friendly building and, just like the previous times, this box was also very light in your arms despite it being a little bigger. You had a spare rope under the seat of the scooter, so you tied it securely so it wouldn't fall when you had it between your feet.

As you were reaching the destination, you realized your palms were becoming more sweaty. Your heartbeat, usually quiet, was now gently beating in your ears, letting you know the stress levels were rising.

“You arrived at your destination,” said the GPS when you passed a big entrance that was leading into a small campus with white buildings that seemed too out of the place. Wanting to get the job done quickly, you searched with eager eyes for a little building that would be the security office, getting off the scooter and untying the delivery.

Seeing a box-like metal security office for the car park barrier you swallowed harshly, walking up to it. There were no signs of life inside, the lights out and the barriers probably working on auto mode. For other people, it must have looked ridiculous - you walking with a bigger box towards the security office but you could only hope no one would see your face which was the reason why you were reluctant to take the helmet off.

You were walking up to what you deemed the correct destination, but you couldn't help the uneasy feeling. There is no need, you insisted in your mind, because this was the correct destination. You would put the box down in front of the doors and just leave. Yes. That was correct.

Despite your weak reassurances, you kept looking around making sure you weren’t missing another spot. Your heartbeat was still gently pumping in your ears, reminding you that this was a little more stressful than the previous outings.

As you reached the doors to the security office, you put the box down more to the side as the doors were directly in front of the road for the cars. Feeling the relief of accomplishing another day of delivery, you turned around and started walking back towards the scooter, the tension slowly but surely easing up. You looked back several times to make sure the box was still there and with that you sat on the scooter and rode away, excited that you didn’t miss out on the night just yet.

If Yuyeon would be up for fun, you could finally go and be reckless!

><

Baekhyun was about to turn off the lights and call it a night at 9pm when a loud set of knocks disturbed his peace. Thinking it was his friends who wanted to give him a surprise visit, he swiftly opened the door only to be surprised when he spotted a ball of pink.

“The hell are you doing here?” he snapped, not moving to let the uninvited guest in.

Siamsa, or, to Baekhyun, Sooah, rolled her eyes as she stepped closer. “Well, hi to you, handsome. I’ll tell you if you let me in.”

“Well, I don’t want to know,” he replied in an even voice. “So that makes it easier. Bye-“

“Wait!” she exclaimed quickly and made a step in, wanting to prevent him from slamming the door shut in her face. “It’s about your ex.”

He didn’t want to admit it; but his heart jumped at the mention of you. Sooah never cared enough about Baekhyun’s other exes before her. Unfortunately for you, you came after her and Siamsa, the kpop sensation, was not processing it well. “If you’re gonna talk bullshit, I’ll spare myself the time-“

“If you want to protect her, you should listen,” she sing-sang nonchalantly, playing with the ends of her long hair. It was dyed blond and made her seem innocent which she was far from.

“And how would you know what’s up with Nari? You’ve already done so much shit in the past! What makes you think I’ll believe you?”

Sooah shrugged, pretending to be unbothered. “Well, I care about your well-being, Baekhyun. I know you care about her. I know the break-up was brutal. You locked up her brother-“

Baekhyun was fast to grab her by her wrist and yank her inside, quickly kicking the door shut. Sooah had a satisfied smirk on her face when she took in his distressed expression. “How. Do. You. Know. That.”

“Mhmm, so hot,” she whispered with a wink, mocking him. “I always liked how manly you are, my little one-“

“Listen,” he cut her off angrily, the nickname making him shudder inwardly, “I don’t care about your fucking games. I’m way past you and all your stupid shit. But I swear to god, if you do something to Nari-“

“You seem to have luck on girls who do stupid shit,” she mimicked him as she stood closer, making sure her breath fanned his chin. “Nari seems to go from one trouble to another. One day she might as well end up like her brother,” she laughed to herself.

“How do you know about her brother?” he asked again in a low tone, trying hard to ignore the anger he felt whenever she mentioned you.

Sooah pulled a fake thinking face, tapping her slender finger with perfect nail art on her chin. “For starters, don’t underestimate my honesty, Baekhyun. I know more than you think. I really care about you, you know,” she mumbled the last sentence and dared to reach up with her hand, touching his cheek gently. “Me messing up by protecting my identity - you were too harsh with me back then, sweetie.”

Baekhyun sighed, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them and moving his face away from her touch. She was bringing up the past and he didn’t like it; he didn’t want to dive in it. Sooah was a great manipulator and he didn’t want to fall down the guilt rabbit hole when he knew he did the right thing in the past. “We are done with that talk.”

“I was never done with that talk,” she was fast to protest. “You were. I still want you.” When she moved to stand closer to him, Baekhyun quickly stood back and away from her. “Baekhyun!”

“Tell me what you know about Lee Nari and then leave!”

“I want something in return,” she rebutted quickly, even confidently, but the desperation on her face was speaking volumes. “And I’ll tell you all I know.”

He grit his jaw, hard. “I swear to god, Sooah, stop testing me-“

“It’s noona for you,” she murmured with a sharp gaze that kept flickering over his features. He always looked good, but judging from his outfit, she knew he was preparing to sleep. That hoodie would soon be taken off and those plaid pants too. Her mind swirled just at the thought of it.

“We are done with that too—“

“You can’t fight the age difference, baby,” she purred and stepped closer. She enjoyed seeing his internal conflict. Despite being a harsh captain, she knew which buttons to push for him to submit, although she didn’t like that it involved you. She hated that the only way she could talk to Baekhyun was if she mentioned your name.

Baekhyun sighed again, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Ok. Speak. Otherwise I’m throwing you out.”

Sooah burst out into laughter, quickly hiding her laminated teeth and scrunched up nose behind her hand. “You manhandling me wouldn’t be the first time, Captain,” she said in a low, sensual tone as she trailed her long fingernail over his chest. She could have sworn it was more toned than the last time she had the pleasure of touching it. “And you know how much I like it.” When she saw him closing his eyes in exasperation, she trailed the finger upwards to his prominent collarbones before she took the side of his neck in her palm, running her thumb over the pulse point. “God, I miss you so much. Like, so, so much, my sweetie.” She knew she was testing the limits. She also knew an angry Baekhyun was anything but good news. She refused to spare him, though. “Your girlfriend is a bad girl. She’ll easily become a criminal if she continues doing the bad stuff.”

Baekhyun snapped his eyes open. “Is she up to something these days?” he asked almost breathily.

Her fingers traveled to the nape of his neck and she buried them in the hair, lightly scratching at the skin. Baekhyun was fighting the shuddering feeling, hoping his body wouldn’t betray him.

“Oh, yes. When isn’t she up to something,” she mumbled thoughtfully, her hawk eyes taking note of Baekhyun’s slight blush. He was getting affected with her ministrations and she stepped closer to him. He didn’t move away.

“What is it?” he hummed when her other hand massages his chest in small circles. “What is it that she is doing?”

Sooah had a mischievous glint in her eyes as she bit her bottom lip in triumph. “Give me a kiss and I’ll tell you-“

“No games!” snapped Baekhyun angrily, his eyes stormy as he glared at her.

“Then you won’t find out!”

“Sooah!”

“Just a magic word and a little kiss is all I want, sweetie,” she whispered, enjoying his intent stare on her. “I promise that’s all I will want and you get to access all you need to know.”

“No,” he shook his head resolutely. “I don’t care.”

“You care so fucking much about her,” it was her turn to spit now, gradually getting infuriated with his reluctance to submit to her. “Or do you want me to, perhaps…” she trailed off, puckering her lips, feigning thinking, “tell everyone in her school you dated her as an underaged kid?”

That was it for Baekhyun. Something snapped within him and he made a threatening step towards his ex, who didn’t even budge at his abruptness. “I dare you to say a single word that would harm her reputation, Sooah. I dare you to. She already went through so much shit because of me and her family.”

Sooah was smirking as she watched the captain's troubled, but hard face. It hurt her, but she wasn’t the most emotionally literate person; she was selfish and sometimes enjoyed suffering of others. That was how a very bad product of the entertainment industry looked like. Whether she would admit it was questionable. Sooah would never give Baekhyun up when her emotions for him were so deep, when the man was desirable so much. It was always a given that he was a one of a kind man and she always wanted everything that was one of a kind.

“What a good man you are, Byun Baekhyun,” she hummed, her eyes focused on his lips. “Caring about a child so much. A child who lied to you from the very first start.”

“Whatever the hell you are trying to do here, leave it,” gritted Baekhyun eventually. “And tell me what she is up to.”

“I already told you what’s the price!” she whined, making Baekhyun frown. “A kiss. On the lips.” With her finger, she tapped her lower lip, excitement cursing through her when she saw Baekhyun eyeing her mouth. “And then the secrets are all yours.”

It was tempting; not the kiss, but the reward. Baekhyun’s mind was racing with possibilities, with outcomes. Then he became worried. He knew how twisted Sooah could be, and were she to talk in front of your school about your relationship, you’d most probably never forgive him for letting it happen and he himself would be in huge trouble. Maybe that thought was even stronger than his need to know whether you were in trouble or not.

To make Baekhyun’s pondering a little easier, Sooah boldly pressed her palm against his toned stomach, the muscles instantly flexing upon her intrusive touch. Sooah knew Baekhyun was a very sensitive man; a single tingle on his neck could turn him on, the lightest of scratches could make him stand up proud. She knew he had to be affected by her minimal ministrations. She knew him perfectly. Touching up the ridges around the muscles, she let her hand slide lower to his abdomen before reaching to cup his—

Baekhyun slapped her hand away with a growl and pressed her against the door. “One fucking kiss and you’ll spill everything,” he breathed. She couldn’t even react before he pressed his lips harshly against hers, the texture of her lip gloss attaching to his lips. Sooah groaned, arms instantly hugging his neck. Her long finger nails scratched his nape and Baekhyun’s will was becoming weaker. 

The familiar scent of her strong, sweet perfume wafted over his senses, reminding him that this was not the woman he cared about anymore. Her eager tongue pushed his lips apart and was fast to battle with his own. The way she kissed him was nothing but desperate, needy, a call for attention. He hated it. The last time he kissed a woman— a girl was a year ago and her lips were the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted. Despite her being brave with him, her kisses were shy, careful, kitten-like and Baekhyun accidentally groaned at the thought of that. 

He pressed his lips harsher against this woman’s while imaging an innocent girl behind his eyelids. His hands were pressed against the door but he wanted to touch so bad. He only got to touch her once and not the way he would have liked, and now he had to fight the urge to let his hands slide around the curves, to outline her behind while her chest would be pressed against his.

He was quickly reminded that the body pressing against him was indeed not Lee Nari. Sooah had a slim physique with a flat chest and a big space between her thighs. He loved it once, but not anymore.

Before Sooah could cup his private part again he broke the kiss, desperately needing some air and needing to snap out of his deep fantasy. Blinking several times, he got to see the face that went through so many changes with plastic surgery and when she smiled at him with swollen lips, he realized how unreal this woman was. Unreal and unfaithful.

“What is Lee Nari doing ?” he breathed, the question coming out in a low murmur, his lips visibly swollen.

The spark that was in Sooah’s eyes left, quickly interchanged with hate and betrayal. “Is this what you ask me right after you kissed me?” she shrieked, causing Baekhyun to flinch. “You just had your tongue in my mouth and you dare to say a little girl’s name afterwards?”

Sooah wasn't wrong about you being a little girl. She was older by fourteen years after all; she saw you as a complete kid. Which made Sooah feel even more devastated and enraged; Baekhyun dated someone so incredibly young, half of her age. It made her feel like she couldn't compare.

“I’m not going to ask you any more. You got what you wanted. Get out of my flat if you don’t do anything useful,” replied Baekhuyn with a hard glare.

“She is delivering drugs,” snapped Sooah and Baekhyun was shocked to find tears in her eyes as she spoke. “That’s who she is now, Baekhyun. She is delivering illegal stuff on a scooter and she doesn’t even have a driving license.”

It felt like someone poured a scorching hot water over him. You and drugs? And you didn’t have a driving license while driving a vehicle? So many thoughts raced through his mind, so many questions left unanswered. What the hell were you up to? “And you know this how?”

Sooah shrugged. “None of your damn business.”

“It is if it involves Nari.”

Sooah scoffed mockingly. “Then sleep with me.”

“You need help, Sooah,” replied Baekhyun somehow compassionately after a moment of silence. Taking the singer’s arm in his, he turned her and opened the door so he could push her out to the corridor. “And immediately. You’re sick in your head. Treat your obsession and then we can still be friends maybe.”

“You’re a heartless bastard, Baekhyun,” whispered Sooah, not turning around. “You better watch out for the university festival. Your girlfriend will be my puppet.”

She started walking with purposeful steps towards the elevator, not looking back and not noticing the way Baekhyun’s face fell with dread.

But the girl had been hurt enough.

><><><><><><><><

A/N: thank you for reading! I had lots of fun with this chapter! Let me know your thoughts, there is so much happening over here >.<

Lyrics credit: McFly - That Girl

[starlightsearches]

Fences - Modern AU Neighbor! Hux

@aramanna asked: Neighbor!Hux fanfic? Your dog wanders into his yard and you start talking after clearing up the mishap?

Hey friend, thanks for the request! This is kind of a modern version of a post TROS Hux, where he’s a little healthier, I think. The reader is a teacher because I’m a self-indulgent bitch 🥰 Also, I’ve never seen Peter Rabbit, but reading this again I feel like this might just be Thomas McGregor. Let me know if I’m right, I guess 😂😂😂

Warnings: discussion of a family member passing away, mentions of hospice care, maybe language?

When Armitage Hux isn't working, eating, or sleeping, he is in his garden. Which, for him at least, was a lot like work. Even so, he found that it relaxes him; there was something about being outside in the evening light—watering his flowers, picking stray weeds—that made everything clearer. He never had space like this when he lived in the city, but now that he’s away from it all, taking care of this space; it’s made him a better lawyer. Whenever he’s stuck on a case, feeling like he's exhausted every possibility, a few moments with his hands in the soft soil helped him unearth the perfect solution to his problems. 

And sometimes you were there, in your own backyard, of course. He wouldn't watch you—that would be wrong—but he couldn't help but notice you through the little gaps in the chain-link fence. Sometimes he found you in your hammock stretched between two trees at the back of your house, your legs the only part of you visible as you swayed in the breeze. Or occasionally you’d spread out a blanket on warm summer days, soaking in the sun as you read.

Every so often he'd get the wild idea that he might say something to you, before changing his mind, or losing his nerve. He hadn’t said more than a handful of words to you since you moved in next door a few months ago—only visiting your doorstep on the rare occasion that your mail was delivered to the wrong house, or he wanted to borrow a cup of flour, or he needed some milk. Lately he’s played with the idea of approaching you about replacing the fence that runs between your houses—a terribly ugly chain link fixture—but he’s been putting that conversation off for some time now, waiting for the right moment.

Today could be the day, though. It’s a quiet Saturday, the last rays of sunlight stretching over the thick green grass, the air alive with the smell of earth as the water trickles from his hose over his many flowers, the sound only interrupted by the occasional passing car.

Hux listens more closely when a new sound is added—the slam of your back door, and then a series of gleeful yips, but he doesn’t let himself turn around just yet, choosing instead to feign indifference for a few more moments. This is the real reason he’s been putting off the conversation about the fence. Your incredibly enthusiastic new puppy has given him twice the opportunity to spend time with you. If you could call it that. 

He turns now, after what he thinks is an appropriate waiting period, and you catch his eye, offering him a slight wave, which he returns—with the hand not holding the hose, this time. You’re attention pulled away from him for a moment as you watch the little corgi zip around your small yard, but Hux keeps his eyes on you, appreciating the way you light up with laughter at the dog’s antics.

He could talk to you right now, if he wanted. Could strike up a conversation about something inane, like the weather, invite you over for a drink, or maybe dinner sometime. He doesn’t think you’re seeing anyone, after all—hasn’t noticed any overnight guests, hasn’t seen you picked up for any dates. But maybe that’s just wishful thinking.

Your door slams again, pulling him out of his fantasy world, and he turns back to see your yard left empty. Another missed opportunity. Hux doesn’t let himself feel too low about it; there’s always tomorrow.

He wakes early on Sunday morning—always awake before the sun rises—and that suits him just fine, padding through his empty house to the kitchen. Grey light streams in through the windows as the quiet morning sounds fill Hux’s ears: water boiling on the stove, the quiet rustle of cat food as he scoops some more into Millie’s bowl.

Where is Millicent? he wonders to himself—she normally sprints into the room at the first sign of her morning meal, but now he sees no sign of her. Hux wanders into the living room, eyes scanning the floor before he finds her by the sliding-glass door at the back of the house, her eyes watchful, tail swishing back and forth.

“What are you doing, Millie?” he asks, and she turns to look at him with her wide, intelligent eyes, offering him a soft meow in response. He really has to stop doing that, talking to his cat. It’s just another testament to the adverse side-effects of living alone. Millicent stays by the door, turning her eyes back to the glass, and eventually Hux caves, walking to the window, hoping to see something more interesting than a stray bird or squirrel.

Hux gasps as soon as he sees it, yanking open the sliding glass, not bothering to find shoes before he steps out onto the cool, wet grass—still damp from the early morning mist. A soft cry falls from his parted lips while he takes in the damage. His garden, it’s ruined.

    He picks his way through the clods of dirt that litter the grass, trying to get a better look. There’s not a flower that’s been left undisturbed, every single one of them ripped from the dirt, mangled, crushed. Totally unsalvageable.

    The headache that blossoms behind his eyes is all too familiar as it rears its ugly head. He thought he had left it behind with the Order—the unpleasant reminder that there’s so little he has control over, that something always goes wrong. Now it’s back with a vengeance.

    Hux hears the little yip from the far side of the yard and turns to look, hoping to catch the culprit that had destroyed all his hard work. He sees the bushy little tail, wiggling as the intruder paws through the soft, brown earth, and he recognizes it immediately. His suspicions are confirmed when he turns the other way, notices the gap created at the bottom of the fence that separates your property from his. 

    The dog yelps when Hux grabs him and immediately begins to squirm, trying to get free, but Hux holds on tight, stomping back through the grass all the way to your front door, breathing hard. He knocks three times in loud, rapid succession, and he only has to wait for a moment before it opens.

    As soon as Hux sees you, his anger vanishes, and a cacophony of other emotions takes its place. Embarrassment is first—you’re standing there in your pajamas, squinting into the first rays of sunlight peeking up over the houses across the street as you rub some leftover sleep from your eyes, and Hux just now realizes that he is also still in his sleepwear: an old t-shirt and some boxers, a ratty, blue robe thrown over his shoulders.

    “Hello, Armitage,” you greet him with a smile, the sound of his name on your lips bringing a blush to his cheeks. You’ve always called him Armitage, ever since one of his stray bills had found its way into your mailbox, and he’s never had the courage to let you know nobody calls him by his first name. “Did you need someth-”

    You gasp before you can finish, finally noticing the writhing little dog in his hands, and you reach for it immediately, pulling it in close to your chest. “Noodle!” Hux tries to process the exclamation before he realizes you’re still talking to the corgi—that must be his name. You turn your attention back to Hux and he pulls his robe closed over his pajamas, wrapping his arms over his chest. He needs to tell you about the fence, his garden. He can’t let himself get distracted.

    You’re talking again before he gets the chance to formulate a sentence, holding the little dog against your hip like a baby, where he rests without wiggling, occasionally licking at your bare arm, looking up at you with his soft puppy eyes. “Thank you for bringing him back, I didn’t even realize he had gotten out of the yard,” you say, “I didn’t leave the gate open, did I?”     Hux pauses, wondering how he should break the news to you. You still haven’t noticed the dirt covering the little demon’s paws, and you look at him with such innocence that for a moment, he thinks he should just leave and take care of the mess himself. 

    His silence says enough, your face falling when you first realize what it could mean. You look to the dog’s paws, then see the mud caking his fluffy little legs. “Oh no, he didn’t . . . “

    “You should see for yourself.”

    Hux watches as you take in the wreckage that was once his garden. You don’t say anything for a few minutes, just standing, staring. He had been so angry when he had first seen the carnage, but looking at it for a second time, he can’t find any of the leftover rage anywhere inside of him, especially not now, as he’s seeing it through your eyes. You look like you’re about to cry.

“I’ll pay for a new fence,” you say, turning to look at him with such urgent sadness, “and I’ll buy you new flowers. I’ll plant them all myself.” 

“That’s- that’s not necessary,” Hux stutters out a response, looking away from you, back to the destroyed flower patch. He can’t stand to see you like this, so torn up over a silly garden, and with every passing moment he grows more and more sure that you’ll never want to speak to him again after this, if he doesn’t make things right. “It wasn’t your fault.”

You reach out to him, your grip firm where it rests on his arm. “Please,” you say, and you’re not just asking, you’re begging, “please, let me help. I can fix this.”

Hux looks down to the place where your hand rests against the arm of his robe, watches the way your fingers flex against him, and his heart softens, lifting his eyes to meet yours again. He gives you the smallest nod, watching as your face lights up with joy, relief, and for a moment, he finds himself feeling incredibly grateful for your silly, little dog.

                    ___________________________________________

Hux looks back, as he wanders through the aisles of his favorite greenhouse, checking, once again, to make sure that you’re still following him before placing a few marigolds in the cart with a small cough. You had admitted pretty early on in your negotiations that  you didn’t know much about gardening, but you had still insisted on helping, and Hux just couldn’t say no.

    You’re easy to be around, he finds quickly, despite his nerves. He had been afraid that the rest of his day would be filled with awkward silences and stilted conversation, but words flow like water between you. You had spent the drive here telling him stories about your students, about what life was like before you moved, about the family and friends you left behind, and how much you missed them.

    “Why’d you leave?” he asks absentmindedly, searching through the pansies for the healthiest of the bunch, his eyes searching for you again when you don’t immediately respond.

    “My grandmother,” you begin, suddenly melancholy again, “I used to live with her every summer here. She left her house to me when she passed. I don’t know if you remember her.” 

    Hux thought back, easily conjuring the image of his old neighbor in his mind. She was a sweet lady who dropped off cookies to his porch when he first arrived at his new home, or occasionally asked him for help hanging a painting, carrying in her groceries. She had been the one who had found Millicent, when she was still a stray. He still remembers how sheepish she had looked, asking if he would take care of the little kitten while she found it a new home. I’d look after her myself, she had said, standing on his doorstep with the little orange bundle in her arms, but I’m not as young as I used to be. 

    “I remember her,” he says, and you smile again, “ but I didn’t know her that well.”

    “She liked you-” you push the cart forward a little, nudging him with your shoulder as you pass, and the contact leaves him struggling for air, “I called her a lot, when she first started to get sick. She always talked about your flowers,” your voice grows thick, and you clear your throat, “she insisted that they put her hospice bed by the big window in the kitchen, so she could still see them whenever she wanted.” 

    You keep walking, steps a little more hurried now, maybe so he won’t see you tear up. Hux follows closely behind, still trying to process everything he had just learned. He could make sense of your reaction to the flowerbed fiasco now, why you had looked so distraught. 

    “She mentioned you,” Hux says, walking quickly to catch up with you, “now that I think about it. She’d tell me I’d have to stay for dinner some night, so I could meet her favorite grandchild.” 

    You laugh, your eyes lighting up in a way that makes his heart drop to his stomach. “That sounds like her; she was always quite the matchmaker,” you respond, before your eyes grow wide with embarrassment, and you realize what you’ve just said. Hux can feel his cheeks grow warm as well, and neither of you breathe, staring at each other in the middle of the aisle. He can scarcely let himself believe it, but it’s impossible to deny, the way you glance down at his lips, your own parting in response. Hux leans in, just slightly, just enough to feel the heat of your skin. He’s not sure if it’s your perfume or the air of the greenhouse, but everything smells like flowers, and desire, a heady scent that goes straight to his head as he watches you close the gap between his face and yours, your eyes still focused on his mouth, your breathing hard.

    There’s a slight cough, and then a giggle, and you both turn at the same time, looking to the end of the aisle. Hux can feel his blush grow deeper when he sees the intruders, a group of girls—high school age, he thinks—watching you with wide eyes and mischievous grins.

    “Sorry,” one of them says, and the other two break into fits of laughter again, “we were just trying to get through.” You move the cart out of the way good-naturedly as they move past, barely able to contain their laughter as they glide by.

    You look at Hux again, but the moment is lost, to his dismay. You clear your throat, looking back at him with your bottom lip caught between your teeth. “Is there anything else that we need?” you ask, and he scans the cart in front of you, absolutely overflowing with flowers.

    “I think that’s it,” he says, turning back to you. “Let’s go.” 

                   ___________________________________________

    Golden rays of sunlight pour in through every window in Hux’s kitchen, the warmth of the day just beginning to fade into a quiet, twilight-kissed evening. You’re resting against his kitchen counter, eyes wandering around the space, but Hux keeps his eyes on you as he pours some water into a glass. You’re glowing, he thinks, and it’s not just the sunset. Your eyes are brighter, skin glistening with sweat before you swipe the back of your arm over your forehead to collect the stray perspiration. A soft breeze blows in through the open windows, a breeze that smells like freshly-planted flowers and the first inklings of nightfall. 

    Hux hands you the glass, and you take it with a smile, drinking deeply. You had both worked through the heat of the day, side by side, planting and watering and cleaning, everything about it natural, easy. He had shown you how to remove the plants from their temporary pots, brush the soil from their roots—watched as you created small indentations in the new dirt, the gentle work of your hands, and he thought back to the greenhouse, and the smell of flowers and your skin. 

    You finish draining the glass, wiping away a stray droplet of water that travels down your neck before you catch it with your fingers. He moves in closer. He doesn’t want to lose this moment. 

    There’s a stray smudge of dirt on your cheek, and he brushes it away with the pad of his thumb, pulling his attention to you.

    “Thank you, for this,” you whisper, and you smile at his confusion, “for letting me help. I would have felt really guilty if you had to do that all alone.”

    “Don’t mention it,” Hux is thrumming, his heart a live-wire. Just being this close to you has filled him with fire—twin sunsets, one inside his chest and the other flooding through the windows. 

    “I’ll get the fence repaired, as well,” you set your glass down on the counter behind you before lifting yourself onto its surface, sitting with your legs dangling, leaning forward so you can look him directly in the eyes. “Or we can get it replaced, if you’d rather-”

    It’s more than he can bear, this small talk, more than he can take to be so close to you and be forced to think of you being so far away, to have you anywhere but with him, in his kitchen, his garden, his bedroom. He kisses you before you can finish your thought, before he can think about being alone again while you’re on the other side of the fence—a whole life-time away.

    “I don’t want to talk about fences anymore,” he mumbles against your lips, barely able to hear himself over the sound of your breathing, intoxicated by the feel of you. You pull him closer, wrapping your arms more tightly around his shoulders, and suddenly, fences are the furthest thing from his mind.

[joongtreasure]

Hello Stranger  ||  Street racer!Hyunjin + Car mechanic!Hyunjin

Hyunjin street racing au + car mechanic au

Genre: Fluff Pairing/s: Hyunjin x Reader

Warning/s: illegal street racing, slight making out

Word count: 4.9k

I was listening to Hello Stranger while writing this

Jisung blankly stared at the last card on the discarded pile. The red color seemed to glare at him in return. Changbin, Felix, and Jeongin waited for his move, wishing for the suspense to be over. They followed Jisung’s gaze as he looked alternately between the discarded pile and the last card that he was holding.

Felix grumbled. “We don’t have all day.”

Jisung scoffed before putting his last card down, revealing a wild draw four card. “I win!” Jisung threw his fist in the air before breaking into a mini dance.

“That’s not how you win in Uno!” Felix retorted.

The four got into a heated discussion about the rules of Uno. It was a typical Saturday in Chris Bang’s Garage. While some of Chan’s friends work for him, others would just laze around on the second-floor lounge. Almost every day they would hang out there, which Chan didn’t mind.

A voice interrupted their petty banter. “Hey, this is a garage, not a living room,” Hyunjin called from the work area. He gave them a pointed look before referring to the customer at the cash register. The customer was waiting awkwardly by the counter to pay for the repairs he requested in Chan’s garage. Felix scrambled from the couch to attend to him.

Hyunjin shook his head before laying on the car creeper. He rolled himself under the car that he was tending earlier. It also became part of his job to reprimand Felix to focus on his work rather than getting distracted by their friends. Chan's business was booming and they need all the help that they can get.

For Hyunjin, the garage is basically his home. It all started when he kept losing in his first few races. He needed the money so their family could get by. When Chan found out, he offered Hyunjin to work for him in the garage. He even offered to train him to be a better racer. Hyunjin readily agreed. He poured great efforts in working efficiently for Chan. In the end, not only did he become one of the greatest racers in the streets, but he also became Chan's right-hand man in the garage. He loved what he was doing. Now, he couldn’t imagine a life not surrounded by engines and the like.

“Ya ya ya,” Changbin called out from the lounge area. “If a nerdy-looking girl comes looking for me, call for me, alright?” He said.

“Define nerdy-looking,” Hyunjin said.

“Wears glasses, band shirts or cartoon shirts, and sneakers,” Changbin said before plopping back to the couch, not waiting for the crew to reply.

You looked at the address your brother sent you, then at the place in front of you. Chris Bang's Garage—your brother wanted to meet you here. You got into the same university as your brother, and you couldn’t wait to see him and his friends. Unfortunately, your brother had a prior commitment today, so you opted to take the bus instead and agreed to meet him in his friend’s garage.

You entered the already-open commercial garage doors. You were greeted with the sight of different flashy-colored cars. Some were hoisted on car lifts while others were being fixed on the ground. What got your attention was the debate between two guys about Uno.

“Didn’t Uno have a point system in the first place?” A boy with white hair argued.

“No!” A guy who oddly reminded her of a squirrel said. “The first person to discard all of their cards wins the game.”

You giggled at the sight before turning to the nearest person to ask for your brother, which was someone under a broken car. You hesitated, unsure if you should disturb him in his work.

Hyunjin wanted to block out their noise. He was really considering hitting them with a wrench to shut up.  It wasn’t helping him concentrate on his work; the rest of the crew probably had the same thoughts. A pair of sneakers caught his attention. No one else seemed to notice someone standing by the entrance so he rolled out of the car to check who it was.

You were greeted by the sight of a blonde guy with a bandana. He was wearing a muscle tee that showcases his toned arms and work pants that had different tools in its pockets. His skin was glistening with sweat, probably from working in the garage. You suddenly became flustered as he was a sight to behold. He stared at you curiously.

Hyunjin was dumbstruck. The sunlight blinded him at first,  then his eyes focused on your figure staring down at him. You looked utterly beautiful, ethereal even. You were probably a customer, seeing as the description Changbin gave didn’t fit you.

Hyunjin stood up and wiped his hands with a clean rag, wanting to look presentable in front of you. He suddenly became conscious that he was covered in sweat. He licked his lips, suddenly feeling his whole mouth go dry. He felt like he was undeserving of your presence. Why? He doesn't know.

“Can I help you with something?” Hyunjin asked, mustering a smile.

“I’m looking for my brother…” You replied, still dazed at the handsome guy.

“Brother?” Hyunjin pondered. “Who’s your brother?”

As if to answer his question, a voice yelled from the lounge. “Y/N!”

Changbin came running down the stairs, almost slipping (being the clumsy friend that he is). “It’s been so long!” He greeted you with a bear hug, swinging you around.

“Oppa, we saw each other during Christmas break.” You laughed but returned the hug.

Everyone in the garage was probably thinking the same thing: Changbin’s your brother? Hyunjin’s gaze switched alternately between you and Changbin, noting the vast contrast of your qualities. Changbin is like a demon summoned to make their life miserable. On the other hand, you look like an angel from heaven. What the hell? He thought.

Hyunjin looked at the others if they had the same thoughts. His question was answered at the sight of Jisung, Felix, and Jeongin openly staring at you. After pulling themselves together, they came down all at once, eager to meet you. Hyunjin rolled his eyes.

It’s been two weeks since your arrival, and what an excruciating two weeks it has been for Hyunjin. He can’t seem to focus whenever you’re around. One time, you just passed by and he was distracted momentarily that he didn’t notice that he stepped on a car creeper. He ended up slipping, his back landing perfectly on the ground. You were instantly beside him, but he refused to accept any help from you, choosing to trudge away in pain. Another was when you simply said hi to him. He waved back at you, but somehow the tire that he was fixing got loose and landed on his foot. He spent the rest of that day limping. So, he did the most logical solution, he avoided you.

You noticed this, of course. You find Hyunjin interesting. When you first met, you had a really good feeling about him. You felt like you could be close to him, so you tried to initiate interactions with him. But, lately, you have noticed that he’s been avoiding you. You didn’t see him anymore whenever you visited the garage, or whenever Changbin’s friends were hanging out at your place. You figured he didn’t like you so you stopped trying.

You knew Changbin was street racing ever since high school. You were the only one he trusted in the family to keep his illegal activities secret. Though at first, you didn’t like it, you knew there was no stopping Changbin. So you simply supported him, coming to his races from time to time.

You were doing your homework in Chan’s lounge while the boys were preparing for a race. You were supposed to leave in a while, but you got curious as you watched the boys doing last-minute fixes on their cars. You have no knowledge on cars, but, for you, they look really cool.

Hyunjin went up to the lounge to rest for a bit. This day was extra tiring. Felix’s job of delivering car parts to customers was thrust upon him; the younger boy apparently took a day off. Then, he helped his friends prepare for the race tonight. He was eager to get a power nap before going to the venue. Of course, that was before he noticed you on the couch. He immediately froze. ‘Would you notice him if he left all of a sudden? The stairs would be noisy.’ He thought.

You noticed Hyunjin, frozen at the topmost step. He probably didn't want to see you, you thought, so you started packing your stuff. “I’m sorry, you can use the couch,” you offered. "I was about to leave."

“No,” he said. “You don’t have to leave.”

“Really?” You chuckled. “I thought you didn't like me.”

“No, I like you.” Hyunjin winced at his own words but explained further. “I mean, I don’t NOT like you. I'm just… I'm just not used to new people.” A big lie.

“Ahh, I get it.” You nodded understandingly.

Plucking up the courage, he walked towards the couch and sat hesitantly beside you. You both were silent for a moment, the only noise you hear are the conversations among the boys in the work area and their engines. “Are you gonna watch the race?” Hyunjin asked, breaking the silence.

“Nope, I still have to study. I might leave in a few minutes though.” You turned to him. “How about you? You racing tonight?”

“I'm not sure yet.” He replied.

Another moment of silence. It wasn’t awkward. You both were comfortably watching your friends work. Though, you took the chance to admit something to Hyunjin. “I really admire you, Hyunjin.” You said. “You seem to love everything about cars.”

“What’s there to admire?”

“Well, you always seem to have your own bubble whenever you work. You’re really good at what you do.” You said.

"It's not that big of a deal." He said, rubbing the nape of his neck stiffly.

"To you, maybe," you said. "But still, I admire you."

Thank god to Chan for forgetting to change the bulb in the lounge, because he was blushing as hell at your words. He was speechless, to be honest. He never had anyone straight up tell him that, especially from the girl that he likes.

You giggled. “Let me guess, you’re also not used to getting compliments.”

Hyunjin shrugged. “You got that one right.”

You laughed. “You’re cute.” You said before standing up and getting your bag. “I should go, it’s getting late.” “You got a ride?”

You shook your head. “I’m taking the bus.”

He stood up too. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”

“But aren’t you going to the race?” You asked.

Hyunjin scoffed. “Nevermind, they’re gonna win anyway. Besides, it’s been a long day. I want to rest early.”

“Okay then.” You both went downstairs, shouting a quick goodbye to everyone before following Hyunjin to his car. Unbeknownst to both of you, your friends were smiling among themselves. Changbin, on the other hand, had a scowl, not sure if he likes the idea of you with Hyunjin.

Hyunjin’s car was a black and white Mazda RX7. “Sweet ride,” you said, looking at his car from top to bottom. Hyunjin opened the passenger side for you. What a gentleman, you thought. You said your thanks before hopping in. When you both were buckled up, he drove out of the area.

Hyunjin sped up as he got into the highway. “Are you comfortable?” He asked.

“Yes, thank you.” You mumbled. “You know I always wanted to see you race.”

“You do?” He chuckled. “You’d be bored.” You asked why, to which he replied while smirking, “No one would stand a chance.”

“I have never pegged you to be arrogant, Hyunjin.” You laughed. “Now I really want to see you race.”

“I’m just stating facts.”

You rolled your eyes. “Sure you are."

Hyunjin drove the car into the suburb on the hillside. There were perks of having Changbin as your brother: a home that has a great view of the city, an awesome circle of friends, and, the best one of all, him as your chauffeur in a cool car.

The hill was quiet. Only a few houses lived on this side of the city. The road was basically dead, so you thought of something that could be fun for both of you. "Is it difficult to race uphill?" You asked.

"No," Hyunjin smirked. "Why?"

"Oh nothing," you said, acting nonchalant. "I just feel like this car is too slow or something."

Hyunjin shook his head in amusement. "Are you sure about that?" He shifted the gear and the car accelerated gradually until your surroundings became blurry. You held on to your seatbelt, anticipating the rush. You were in awe as trees blurred past you. "This is so cool." You muttered.

Hyunjin shifted gears, going faster. Normally, he wouldn't put someone in danger like that, but the way you initiated the challenge made him think that you also liked the rush. He wasn't even sure if it was okay with Changbin, but he still continued as he saw you actually enjoying the ride.

Reaching a curve, Hyunjin drifted the car smoothly until the road became straight again. The road towards your home consisted of a few more curves. Plus, it was uphill. One wrong maneuver and you might take a tumble down the hill. You eyed Hyunjin. “You can do it, right?”

Hyunjin just smirked. He drifted the car again as you reached another curve. Your worry vanished as he managed to drift through a few more curves with precision. You looked at him. Despite his cocky attitude earlier, he looked carefree at the moment. You figured that he likes racing for the thrill; that he was in it for the ride and not for the money. It really showed right at this moment. Soon, you felt the car slowing down until Hyunjin parked his car in front of your house.

You grinned. "Well, that was fun."

"Really?" Hyunjin laughed. "Are you okay?"

“Are you kidding? I can't remember the last time I've felt so much thrill in my life."

"Not even when Changbin's driving?"

"Changbin would drive like a mom when I'm with him." You retorted. "He never drives like that with me. Like ever."

Hyunjin hung his head in disappointment. "He's gonna kill me then."

"Don't worry." You giggled. "It'll be our little secret."

Hyunjin smiled, looking at your elated expression. He would do anything to see you happy again. Seeing you like this made him warm inside. That night, he changed his mind about avoiding you.

Ever since that night, you and Hyunjin grew closer. Your bond was natural; always annoying each other, always challenging each other. You started hanging out in Chan's garage more often than usual; from catching up with him in the lounge to helping him work. You actually became familiar with the different tools that he used. He would do the heavy work while you just handed him whatever he needed.

The other guys find it amusing that you were hanging out with Hyunjin rather than your brother. Changbin was quite bitter, but, in a way, relieved. Seeing you bloom in college made him happy, proud even. But, he was nervous that you would start dating guys who probably don't deserve you. When he noticed that you and Hyunjin seemed to be fond of each other, he was relieved. He trusts Hyunjin. He wanted nothing more than seeing you both happy with each other.

That's why Changbin approached Hyunjin because he trusts him when it comes to you. He'll start his internship soon. From then on, he would be too busy to pick you up and drop you at school. He knew Hyunjin’s work schedule in the garage is flexible. He’s doing this because 1) he hoped that through this, you two would finally realize you both like each other, 2) he thought that it would be good for Hyunjin to get out of the garage from time to time, and 3) again, he trusts Hyunjin when it comes to you. 

"Hyunjin," he said, leaning against the car that Hyunjin was fixing. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

Hyunjin rolled out of the car with a curious look. He stood up, cleaning his hand with a rag. "What's up?"

"As you know, I'll be starting my internship soon and I won't be around much to take care of Y/N," Changbin said. "I was hoping that you could drive her around to school."

"Sure," Hyunjin said without much thought.

"Well, that was easy." Changbin chuckled. "If I tell you to confess to her, would you?"

Hyunjin blushed, muttering 'I don't know what you're talking about.'

"Ya, you're so obvious." Changbin shook his head. "Just know that I'll come for you if something goes wrong, yeah?" He rubbed Hyunjin's hair teasingly before leaving the boy in a blushing mess.

Changbin told you about Hyunjin, and you were honestly happy with the setup. You would see Hyunjin more often now, even outside of the comforts of Chan's garage.

You just finished your last class for the day, and you were looking forward to seeing Hyunjin. You brushed your way past the hoard of students in the hallway. Arriving at your school's parking lot, you immediately spot Hyunjin. However, you frowned at the sight that greeted you.

Hyunjin was leaning against his car, looking annoyed as ever as a couple of students crowded him. A few guys were admiring his car while some girls were trying to make small talk with Hyunjin. Though he made it clear that he wasn't interested, they wouldn't leave him alone.

"I really like your car." One of them said, tucking her hair behind her ear. "You must be really rich." Her posse giggled.

Hyunjin scoffed. 'Pretentious,' he thought. He ignored her despite her approaching figure; his sneakers more interesting than them.

The girl touched his arm and that’s when he finally had it. He moved away instantly. "Can you leave now while I'm being nice?"

You approached them, worried about Hyunjin. "Hey," you greeted.

Hyunjin visibly brightened when he saw you. He moved to the passenger side, opening the door for you to get in. You did so hesitantly, wary of the glaring eyes in front of you. Hyunjin got to his side and drove the car out of the school premises.

"How was school, princess?" He asked, smiling. His mood changed, you thought.

"It was okay, I guess." You said dryly.

Hyunjin frowned. "Is there something wrong?"

You shook your head. Maybe you were tired. Discouraged, maybe. You didn't know. You just didn't have the energy to talk at the moment.

Hyunjin was restless inside though. He couldn't stand the thought of you being down for some reason. But he respected your space, knowing you, you would eventually tell him if something's up. You both rode in silence as he drove you to your home.

Hyunjin parked in front of your driveway. He immediately got out of the car, moving to your side and opening the door for you. You chuckled. "You don't have to do this every time, Jinnie."

"I was just making sure you won't scratch my car." He scoffed.

"Right, of course, you are."

Hyunjin stared at you, and you feel yourself deflate under his intense gaze. "Did something happen at school?" He asked.

You didn't want to admit that what happened earlier bothered you. The thought of Hyunjin with another girl made your skin crawl. Your brain kept telling you to acknowledge your feelings towards Hyunjin, but you just can't, knowing he probably doesn't feel the same.  And, of course, you’re worried that you were already burdening Hyunjin. He looked uncomfortable at school earlier.

You shook your head. "How about you?" You asked. "I kinda saw what happened earlier."

Hyunjin groaned. “They were annoying."

“Aigoo~” You chuckled, pulling the headband and letting it go with a snap. "No one seemed to be good enough for you, Jinnie."

Hyunjin rubbed his forehead comfortingly. You. He thought. You'd be more than enough.

"It's getting late." You said, walking away from the car. "I'll see you tomorrow, Jinnie."

"See you, princess." He mumbled, leaning against his car as he watched your figure enter your home.

You stuck out like a sore thumb amidst the wave of skimpy and lavish clothing. You had just finished your classes when Hyunjin picked you up and told you that he was going to race tonight. You instantly agreed when he asked you if you wanted to come and watch. So, there you were, leaning against Hyunjin's car as he met one of the organizers of the race.

Changbin approached you with a playful glint. "Wah, it's been so long since I've seen you in the streets."

"Someone has to be the mature one if anyone of you decided to do something stupid." You teased. "Especially you."

"Especially you~" He mocked, which made you laugh. "But now, you did not only come for me, did you? You came to support Hyunjin."

You hit Changbin in the arm. "Ya, I support all of you."

"Sure you do."

Hyunjin came back after handing his pot money. Changbin man-hugged Hyunjin, wishing him luck before leaving you two alone. "You gonna wish me luck, princess?"

"I didn't know you needed luck." You giggled. "But, do be careful."

"Always am." Hyunjin smiled. He removed his jacket, leaving him in his usual tee that exposes his toned arms. You looked away, trying to hide the flustered look on your face. You were surprised when he draped it around your shoulders. "Wear it for me?"

"Why? You'd get cold." You said.

"Just wear it for me, princess."

You sighed before putting your arms inside the sleeves. "I'll be going now," he said. "Stay with Changbin and the others, yeah?"

You nodded, watching him hop into the driver's seat. You bit your lip when you thought of something that can potentially ruin your friendship with Hyunjin. Would it? You thought. Plucking up the courage, you tapped on Hyunjin's window. He rolled down his window, confused. "What's wrong, princess?"

You gestured for him to come closer. As he did so, you kissed him quickly on the cheek. He stared at you, surprised. A kiss could be platonic, right? You thought of things that could save your friendship. Hyunjin had other thoughts though. Before you could explain, he planted a quick kiss on your lips. This time, you were surprised. Hyunjin simply grinned. "I'll catch you later." He said before driving to the starting line.

You patted your cheeks, trying to shake off the giddy feeling. You weaved through the crowd until you found your friends and your brother near the starting line. You stayed with them until the race is over.

Hyunjin felt restless behind the wheel. He already felt the adrenaline kicking in as he waited for the flagger to start the race. Not only that, the other drivers taunted him earlier, saying they'd ask your friend—you—out after the race. That didn't just make him subtly claim you by making you wear his jacket, it also made him more determined to win the race. However, after the kiss, he already felt like a winner. You meant that romantically, right? Thinking about it excited him. Feeling giddy, he hit the steering wheel repeatedly in excitement.

The flagger raised his arms and the crowd hollered. "Drivers, are you ready?" He yelled. When the drivers gave him an affirmation, he swiped his arms down, signaling the cars to go. The cars zoomed instantly through the night.

You stood between Changbin and Jisung, nervous to the death. It's been so long since you came to events like this. It's like seeing Changbin race for the first time again.

Jisung was cheering Hyunjin's name beside you. Upon seeing your face, he softened. "Hey, relax. Hyunjin's good. One of the best in these streets."

"I know," You said. "I just can't help it."

Changbin chuckled. "You should date him after this."

You hit Changbin again for the second time that night. "Shut up."

"Aigoo, is my sister flustered? Aigoo." He teased.

Slap!

Changbin rubbed his arm in annoyance, finally feeling the burn after a series of your slaps that night.

The crowd went wild as the sound of engines returned. You all saw the cars speeding towards the finish line, Hyunjin's car and a different car leading the race. You all watched in suspense as the two cars alternately surpassed each other by mere inches.

"Oh, I can't look." You said, turning around.

Jisung pulled you. "Ya look!"

You saw Hyunjin's car overtake the other car in a burst, probably using his NOS. The crowd celebrated as Hyunjin sped past the finish line first. You jumped in excitement, hugging Changbin in a tight grip. The crowd surrounded Hyunjin as he went out of his car to receive his win. Your friends bombarded him with whoops and man hugs, while you and Changbin opt to just wait for him behind the buzzing crowd. Hyunjin searched the crowd for your face. You waved from the back, hoping he'd see you. When he did, he waved back, looking euphoric.

Changbin nudged you. "Just go to him." You nodded bashfully. "Don't stay out too late, okay?" He said before leaving, probably going to Chan's to celebrate.

The crowd was already dissipating when you approached him. You were almost at Hyunjin's when you were stopped by a guy you've never met before.

"Hey, I'm Kim." He said. "Have I seen you before? You look really familiar."

"Sorry I don't know you." You replied.

"Well, I think you're really cute. Can I ask for your number?"

"I'm not interested." You turned him down immediately. You sidestepped to get past him but he grabbed your wrist.

"I mean no harm, babe," Kim said. "I just want your number."

"I said no, okay?" You said, trying to pull away from him. "I'm not interested."

Kim was about to reply when a gentle hand touched the part where Kim's hand is gripping yours. It was Hyunjin. "She said no, Kim. Please remove your hand and let her go."

Kim did so but took a taunting step towards Hyunjin. "How about we race for it huh, Hyunjin? You were just lucky tonight."

"She's not a prize." Hyunjin glared. He placed his hand behind your back and ushered you to his car.

You looked at Hyunjin briefly. His mood definitely turned sour despite his win. You slipped your hand in his, hoping to lighten up the mood. "Hey, you dropped your crown, princess. Keep your chin up." You teased.

Hyunjin laughed then smiled at your hands, intertwining them. "Trust me, I'm more than happy tonight."

"Congrats, by the way." You said. “Although, you already knew you were gonna win.“

"Let's celebrate." He said.

"Sure, I think they're at Chan's right now."

He shook his head. "I want it to be just us."

You pondered. "What do you have in mind?"

"You pick, princess." He kissed your hand. "Anything, anywhere, I don't mind."

You blushed at the action. "How about dinner at my place?"

"Sounds great." He said, leading you to his car.

At your place, you cooked ramen. Though you offered to cook something else, Hyunjin wanted something easy and instant. He reasoned that he didn't want to bother you too much, but, actually, he just can't wait to spend more time with you. After eating, you both chose to watch a movie. Although a few minutes in, the movie was already forgotten as Hyunjin won't stop hugging you. You were basically on his lap and he kept nuzzling his nose on your neck.

"Hyunjin," you chuckled. "You're not watching the movie."

Hyunjin mumbled, "Let's just stay like this for a while."

"Okay, but can we clear something between us first?" You said. You grinned as his cute head peeked at you.

You slid off his lap and sat beside him. He faced you with an amused expression. "I just need to know... where our relationship is heading." You mustered.

Hyunjin smiled. "I really want to date you, Y/N. I want you to be my girlfriend." He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. Beautiful, he thought.

"Okay then." You said.

"Is that a yes?" Hyunjin came closer, gently touching your cheek, staring at your eyes. "You'd be my girlfriend?"

You nodded meekly and muttered a yes. He held your cheeks before kissing you repeatedly on the forehead. You giggled. Then, you both gazed into each other's eyes, briefly looking at each other's lips.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked gingerly.

To answer his question, you placed your hands on his shoulders and kissed him. He responded almost immediately, his hands resting on your waist and on your cheek. You sighed as your lips slowly molded against each other. You put your hand to the side of his face, momentarily brushing against the headband on his forehead.

You pulled away, giggling to yourself when Hyunjin tried to chase your lips. He rested his forehead against yours, staring intensely at your eyes. Feeling courageous, you pushed Hyunjin until his back was against the couch and you straddled him. He caressed your face, taking in every detail. "Beautiful," he muttered, leaning closer for another kiss.

You kissed again with much more fervor this time. Your bodies were firmly pressed against each other. His hands were clutching your waist, rubbing it up and down. You delicately traced his biceps until finally resting them against his chest. You felt one of his hands slide gently down to your thighs.

It would have been an interesting night if you didn't hear Changbin's car park in the driveway. You pulled away from each other, smiling. He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. You giggled, doing the same thing to his hair.

The front door opened, revealing a sleepy Changbin. When he noticed your position, all traces of fatigue vanished. "Ya!" He yelped.

You didn't want to move, but Hyunjin gently placed you beside him, probably trying to get on your brother's good graces.

Changbin rubbed his eyes as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. He shrugged. "Keep it PG when I'm here, okay?" He glared at Hyunjin, pointing his finger as if he's saying 'I'll be watching you' before disappearing to his room.

You and Hyunjin just laughed at each other before cuddling on the couch, finally paying attention to the movie.

[nocturnalazura]

Locked

Rock Lock solo

Warnings: 18+, exhibition, male chastity, vibrating plugs, gag

Requested by : @princeasimdiya12

Sorry if this is a little rough, but this was super fun to write but it also went through about a million rewrites. So please enjoy Rock Lock having a little fun trying to keep it together in public.

It’s one of those rare days off, where everything just seems to fall into place perfectly. It’s one of the few times that he doesn’t have to be pro hero Rock Lock. Right now in this moment he just gets to be Ken, and the best part of just being Ken means that he gets to indulge in the things he loves most. He finally gets to indulge in things that leave a hot aching pit low in his gut, leans into all the things that send heat coursing through his veins. He knows it's risky, knows that if people knew that’d call him sick. One wrong move and his career as a pro hero will be utterly destroyed but god it’s worth the risk.

It’s the early afternoon on a saturday, meaning that city streets are filled with civilians. Constantly dodging and bumping into each other as they go. He keeps his head down as he moves through the hordes of people, reaching up to adjust his mask as it slips down the tiniest bit. Once back in place he forces the tip of his tongue through a small gap in his lips to softly press against the tape hidden behind the mask. Anytime someone bumps into him he offers a small nod and immediately lowers his head in hopes of not getting recognized. The soft jostling of someone bumping into forces the vibrating plug that’s neatly tucked inside of him to shift and rub ruthless against his prostate. Biting harshly into his tongue he silences a heavy moan at the stimulation. Pushing through more people he continues to the small store down the block.

As he goes a soft breeze blows by forcing a small shiver to cover his body as the very end of his trench coat softly flutters. A hand darts down to stop it from moving any farther as a slightly stronger breeze blows past. The cool air flows under the fabric wrapping softly around his bare body forcing him into high alert as he enters a particularly crowded area. The risk of someone catching on to him fuels his desire, the thought causes his cock to stir in it’s confines. He sucks in another hard breath as the blunt head of his cock presses up against the cool metal of its cage in a weak attempt to harden fully. He can’t help the “Hmming” moan he lets out at the slight discomfort.

Picking up his pace he ignores the heat that grows low in his belly as the plug continues to rub and vibrate harshly inside of him. The urge for release continues to grow and swirl inside of him as he finally steps off the crowded street and into the slightly less crowded store. He has to keep it together, head down means less chance of someone noticing who he is, and the most important part don’t fucking cum in the grocery store. He’s made it through all the other little errands he’s had to do today, stopping by the bank, dropping off some mail to be delivered and now the hardest part.

Picking up the small basket he walks down the aisles picking out what he needs and carefully dodging other shoppers. A sweet older lady hobbles towards him quietly asking him to hand her something from a shelf just out of her reach. He quickly hands her the item offering a curt nod.

“Thank you so much.”

“Mhmm.” He hums softly giving her a slightly softer nod.

She narrows her eyes up at him slightly and gives him an odd look, it’s a look that screams “Do I know you from somewhere?”. He makes quick work of picking up his basket and walking away from her. Maybe she’ll think he’s a little rude but that’s better than risking being exposed. The encounter makes his cock throb just a little more in its confines.

Turning to head towards the checkout lines he knocks a can off a shelf, sucking in a breath he sets his basket down and leans over to pick it up. Thankfully the long trench coat he wears safely covers him from being exposed as he bends. However the bending forces the plug to shift and press fully into his prostate almost causing him to topple over from the sudden stimulation. His hand quickly reaches out and grabs onto the nearby shelf as he tries to ground himself. An odd garbled moan rips through his throat thankfully his closed mouth and the tape helps to muffle the noise. Grasping the can he forces himself to stand up which thankfully relieves some of the pressure on his prostate but ultimately does nothing to ease the heat that’s slowly reaching its boiling point low in his belly.

Quickly shoving the can back into its place on the shelf he moves quickly to get to check out and get out of the store. Biting into the inside of his cheek he ignores the way the cashier occasionally peeks up at him seemingly too nervous to say anything. She knows, she knows who he is. A sick sense of fear and desire swells hotly inside of him. As she scans the last item and reads out the total he’s already swiping his card waiting for it to be accepted.

“Have a great day sir! And um you’re my favorite hero.” She happily chirps out the beginning but leans in closer and whispers the second part so only he can hear. He gives her a small nod and hums softly in acknowledgement as he grabs his bag and quickly leaves.

Grimacing the best he can against the tape he once again attempts to dodge civilians on the street as he heads to the train station down the block. Once at the station he taps his foot anxiously as he shifts around attempting to ease the ache in him. Thankfully everything is on time today and he only has to stand around for a few minutes. Once the train pulls up he steps into a car and settles himself in a corner letting the crowd fill in around him. Shifting slightly he holds his bags in front of him as he leans into the corner.

As the train jolts forward he’s forced to shift as people move around and bump into him. The new stance once again has the plug settled into that perfect spot again. Leaning his head back, he closes his eyes and does his best to take deep even breaths as the heat in his belly starts to creep up further. His hands clench rapidly around the handles of his bag, if he shifts even just a little bit it’s over. Doing his best to steady himself and ignore his surroundings. The train rolls up to another stop jostling him softly again but thankfully does little to really disturb him. Peeking an eye open he watches as more people get on and off the train and settle around him. The next stop is his, he’s so close to his goal, his home is only a couple of blocks away from the stop he should be able to make it.

And then it happens, someone around him shifts and sends another person slamming into him. The sudden jerk finally allows the heat to boil over. The plug still sits in that perfect spot but now it’s tilted ever so slightly forcing his body to tense. His cock stirs in the cage again attempting to harden to it’s full length before it finally gives in. It helplessly splatters cum onto the inside of his coat, it's a weak stream but far better than a dry orgasm. Teeth bite harshly into his tongue as he suppresses a long drawn out moan as he reaches a somewhat unsatisfying orgasm. Unfortunately it doesn’t really work as a muffled “hhhnngggh” escapes him and a few pairs of eyes look up at him quizzically. Struggling he forces out a few fake coughs and waves a free hand at them hoping they think he’s just ill.

Before he gets to fully regain his composure the train rolls to his stop and he’s forced to get off. He keeps the bags in front of him to hopefully conceal the sad wet patch that rests on his coat. Stumbling slightly he ignores what he thinks could be someone calling his name but right now he doesn’t care. He keeps moving on until a large hand clamps down on his shoulder stunning him briefly, biting into his lip he keeps his eyes forward not turning around just yet.

“Rock Lock? Man! How are you?” Says the loud voice. He knows that voice, that voice belongs to the one person he really wishes wasn’t standing behind him right now. “I haven’t seen you in a while! Where’ve you been?!”

Cringing as the voice gets louder behind him he quickly spins around to finally lay eyes on his loud acquaintance. Grimacing the best he can under the tape and mask, he eyes Fatgum with a slightly annoyed facial expression, of course he’s in his fat form. Grunting softly, he gives a small nod of acknowledgement hoping that this would end quickly.

“You doin’ okay? You look a little out of it, do ya need something to eat?”

“Mmnnmm.” He grunts out shaking his head.

“Aw man are you sick?”

“Mmhmm.” He grunts offering up another small fake cough. Fuck he can feel cum slowly drip off his softend cock he needs to get out of here.

“Anything I can do for you? I could drop off soup or something later?!”

Frantically Ken shakes his head waving a hand at him to hopefully quiet the loud man down. His legs are still slightly shaking and the plug isn’t helping the overstimulated feeling that’s coursing through him. This area is pretty empty but a few eyes have landed on them. Damn Fatgum and his loud happy presence in life.

“Want me to walk you home? I’m assuming it’s your day off so I’m more than willing to help out a civilian in need!”

“Nnhhnn” he grunts out shaking his head again. Please let me go, you're gonna get me caught.

“Aw alright man. Well feel better!” Fatgum yells slapping him on the shoulder a few times. Nodding he pats Fatgum on the arm and pushes himself to walk away as quickly as possible, as a few people have finally noticed the large hero.

Once he’s rounded the corner away from the almost disaster he slows his pace allowing his shaking legs to carry him the few blocks to his home, ignoring the feeling of cum drying against his coat and skin. Thankfully the streets here are almost empty and he can take his time ignoring the tremor of over stimulation that rises. Finally he reaches his home, slamming open the front door he drops his bags on the floor, pulling the mask off he quickly rips the tape off and finally allows himself to pant freely. Hands scramble helplessly through his pockets as he searches for the little remote hidden there. A mess of overstimulated moans fill his home as he struggles to find the remote. Grasping it he finally turns the vibrator off and allows himself to sink down to the floor into a puddle of overstimulated pro hero.

If only the world could see Pro Hero Rock Lock now, splayed out in the entryway of his home, cock half hard and locked away in a little cage, with a pretty vibrating plug shoved deeply inside of him, and cum splattered on the inside of his coat. What would they all think of him if they knew?

[cosplayingwitch]

"Presentation is Everything"

Part two of "Finding My Way Home" series

Takes place 6-8 months after the last chapter

Prompt: flowers

Pairing: f!reader x Poe Dameron

Summary: Reader has graduated with their masters and had to leave their roommate/best friend/(crush?) behind as they go on to a doctoral program at a different university. Reader is about to present her work at a professional conference and an unexpected surprise calms her down.

Triggers: panic attack, slight stalker-ish behavior, these two being complete idiots, swearing

Tags: @make-me-imagine

It’d been over six months since you’d seen your best friend, Poe Dameron. You were successful enough with your thesis (even while practically teaching a field class for Professor Solo) and graduated with your Masters degree. And with the help of Professor Solo’s recommendation, you'd gotten into your dream school for your PhD.

Which meant moving two states away from your best friend/roommate. Not exactly something you’d wanted to do, but this wasn’t an opportunity you could turn down.

When you’d told Poe, he was very supportive, but still sad about the whole thing. You’d definitely stay in touch, you insisted. There was social media, zoom, all of that.

“Plus we could always meet up somewhere between us!” you told him. “It wouldn’t be more than a couple hours for each of us.”

That didn’t mean you didn’t miss him. His random breaking into song at what could be described as the worst possible times. What he always described as his ‘fact of the day’, which always dissolved into a random string of thoughts. (He still sent you his ‘fact of the day’ via text, but it wasn’t the same without his commentary.)

Remembering the night you spent stargazing, you also realized you missed your chance to tell him how you felt. To outright ask him out on a date. You always rationalized the urge away as not wanting to ruin your friendship, as him probably not feeling the same way as you. Who knows if he was even into girls (or anyone at all). In the many years you’d lived together, he’d never brought someone back to the apartment you shared.

(That’s because he wanted you, your heart shouted at you, you’re an idiot to let that go. But your brain insisted there had to be other reasons.)

Either way, the research you’d done with Professor Solo didn’t just get you into your doctoral program. You’d be presenting at a research conference soon. On your own. (That was a theme with Professor Solo. He’d help you start something, then insist you do the rest of the work.) This was your first time even attending this conference, let alone presenting at one. My god, you thought. How am I supposed to do this? Alone?

This will go down in flames, the voice in your head continued. You’ll fuck it up and ruin your academic reputation. And then never get your doctorate or a job.

When you get to your hotel the day before the conference was set to begin, every worry you’d ever had was spinning through your head. All the ways you could screw up nearly had you in a panic attack. Oh god, you thought, please let me get to my room before I start hyperventilating.

But then, you entered your room to find flowers. Yellow roses with a hint of red. Your favorite.

There was only one person on the planet who knew that. Poe Dameron. But how did he know where to send the flowers? Was he stalking you? The card read:

‘For my friend who I haven’t seen in forever,

My friend who is likely in a panic attack,

My friend who will kill it with her presentation.

You don’t need it, but good luck.’

God, he could write. And it’d been six months and hundreds of miles, but he still knew you well enough to anticipate what you were feeling right now.

In an instant you had your phone out and were calling him.

“Well look who finally called. I guess the flowers did the trick?” Poe answered.

“How did you even know where to send them? I never told you where I was staying! Are you stalking me or something?”

Poe explained, “Well, while you didn’t tell me the hotel you were in, you did tell me every other detail about the conference. And their website had the ‘official hotel’ of the conference, so I figured you’d stay there. The office there wouldn’t say if you were, but did tell me I could get flowers delivered there and he’d make sure they went where they needed to go. I took the chance. Obviously it worked, you called me and I didn’t even leave my name on the card.”

“You could say that. Thanks, by the way. You were right, I’m starting to freak out. I’m presenting my research tomorrow. The stuff I did for my masters. All these other presenters already have their doctorates.” you reason with him. “Maybe I’ll get there someday.”

Poe about exploded through the phone. “MAYBE? MAYBE you’ll get that degree ‘some day’? I did NOT lose my best friend to another university three states away to ‘maybe’ get a degree. You WILL get it. Not tomorrow, but eventually.”

You couldn’t tell if he was angry, joking, or trying to encourage you. A mix of the three? Somehow it did feel like he was trying to give you a pep talk. Break you out of the panic setting in and focus you back on the goal. He knew how much you wanted this and he would never discourage you from going after it.

“Okay then. How about you tell me about what’s going on back home and take my mind off this whole thing.”

Oh god, you thought. You referred to where he was as home. I mean the university, you rationalize, the place where I just lived and studied for six years. Poe’ll probably think that’s the case anyway. You certainly did not mean him.

“Well, you know while you’ve been gone, I went and knocked off another thing on my bucket list. I’m a few weeks away from having my pilot’s license!” Poe stated, which sent you into a small laughing fit. You knew he’d always wanted to, but with his awful driving skills you never thought it’d actually happen.

“Good for you, I guess. Just be careful- I definitely don’t need my best friend dying in a plane crash.”

When you finally got off the phone with Poe, it was late. You’d had room service delivered while you were still talking, him likewise with delivery. In some ways, it was like you were back together again, having dinner on the coffee table while gossiping about the faculty and staff at the university. Who was having an affair, who was being suspected of plagiarism, whatever the next big scandal would be and how the university would cover it up this time.

It was just the thing you needed to make you relax. Your boyfriend best friend supporting you.

You stopped yourself. Not again. Poe was not your boyfriend. He was a friend and nothing more. And you certainly weren’t screwing that up.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, or maybe the bottom of your heart, you couldn’t help but think of him in a romantic way. That maybe your relationship with Poe could evolve into something more. Maybe even hope for that happy ending. After all, he could have just texted you good luck, but he chose to send your favorite flowers and a beautifully written card.

That would count as a romantic overture in your mind. If you were in some kind of cheesy rom-com with him, that is.

Friends. Nothing more. Nothing less. Friends. You remind yourself.

Friends.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Poe kept running that conversation over in his mind for days. I was a fucking idiot for sending her flowers, he thought. The note was even worse. Both were definitely something romantic, but he didn’t want you to know that he felt that way about you.

Then you asked about ‘what was going on back home’. Home. Poe asked himself if you meant the university as home, you’d been there for more than six years. Or did you mean him? Your formerly-shared apartment? Was your intention to say you considered the apartment, and him as an extension, as your home?

God, Poe thought. I’m way over thinking it.

But what if she meant that in the same way I meant the flowers? He asked himself. Some kind of idiotic slip of the mind that was only there because of underlying feelings?

Her slip of the tongue wasn’t as bad as his flowers, but it gave him some kind of hope that someday you might actually be a couple, growing your friendship into something more. But he pushed this hope out of his mind as best he could.

After all, they were only friends. Friends only. Nothing more. Nothing less. Just really good friends who know each other's favorite flowers and things that could send them into panic attacks. Friends who lived and studied together for long enough to practically be family.

Home? Just the university they went to. And where he just happened to live, too.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Author's Note: So I used this type of flower because they are my personal favorite, but then I decided to look up the 'meaning' behind them... I suggest you do the same... (not intentional, but a really nice coincidence for this)

Also, I'll be updating this again next weekend with posts on Saturday and Sunday. Let me know if you want to be tagged in future chapters!

[nightwingshero]

WIP Saturday

I was tagged by @chyrstis and @scungilliwoman thank you, lovelies!!! Honestly, I’m so damn behind on my tag games...I’m so sorry, I’m getting there. 

Tagging: @strafethesesinners @water-writings @simonxriley @playstationmademe @witchofinterest @xbaebsae @dieguzguz @tommymillers @smithandrogers @shellibisshe @fadedjacket and whoever else would like to share! Sorry, my brain is fried and I can’t think of any other tags, but if you do it, please tag me! I would love to see your amazing work!!!

I’ve been doing a lot of Dragon Age, MCU, Arrowverse, and some other stuff (becuase I’m all over the place), so here yah go!

Dragon Age: Athera and Evune in the Exalted Plains before helping Solas’ spirit friend, after Haven fell. 

“And you’re okay with all of this?” Evune asked as she stepped on a boulder, looking down below us as a few halla settled down for the night. “You seem a bit…off.”

Glancing over at her, the arms around my chest tighten as they remained crossed. “It just…feels a bit odd. Everything seems so...quiet and open here.” Evune threw back her head, laughing a bit.

“Welcome to the Plains, darling.” She smirked a bit as the shadows of the fire from the camp behind us flickered across her face. It made her dark eyes look like the night sky, almost terrifying yet beautiful. It’s almost odd to me how the eyes show the kind of person you were on the inside, because I knew it was a pure representation of who she was. Even if she didn’t want to admit it. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“I…I don’t know what you want me to say.” I murmured, glancing behind me at the others. Blackwall carving something with his knife as Varric lounged next to the fire, watching it as he lowly spoke of stories of his travels. Solas, only a little further from the fire than Blackwall, sat quietly, stoically as he listened, whether to Varric or us, I wasn’t sure. “Being the First is…” I glanced back down below us, the moon full and lighting the plains in front of us as the creek ran not far from our camp. “I didn’t think I’d have to do it; I didn’t think for a moment that Isha would…”

“Die?” Evune offered as she watched me carefully, her sharp eyes taking in everything and reminding me of the hunter she became once she joined our clan. Andruil’s vallaslin was more than fitting for her, even as a rogue. It was moments like this that made me more grateful to have my cousin by my side.

“I went to the Conclave because I needed time to think, I…I didn’t want the responsibility that came with being a First. I don’t know if I want to be Keeper when Deshanna steps down.”

If I was expecting a shocked reaction from her, I would have been disappointed. It was as if I had just told her the sky was blue, the only movement from her was the slight arch in her brow as I glanced over her. “I hope you’re not expecting me to overly surprised by this, Athera. You jumped at the opportunity when everyone was ready to let me scout it out.”

“And ended up with more responsibility than before.” I laughed humorlessly. “Just think Evune, if Isha hadn’t died, if I hadn’t jumped at the opportunity to run from the weight of being the First, you could be Inquisitor right now.”

“In what world would that be reassuring, Little Fawn? Me and Fen’an leading this little pack of warriors? You and I both know that the right person was there for that. Don’t haunt yourself with those kinds of thoughts, you’re the leader because you’re meant to be.”  

MCU: Steve coming back in Infinity War

“Ross.” Rhodes sighed. “We gotta take this. Rayna, I’m sorry—”

“Do it.” She replied as she stood straight, her head high. “Let us see what he has to say to this now that Tony is missing.”

The malice in her voice made Rhodes and I exchange a look before he turned to the screen and accepted the call. The blue hologram of Secretary of State and the conference room he was in filled the space as Bruce went to the next room, an old flip phone turning in his hands. Rhodey crossed his arms as he took him in, Rayna leaning against the bench—her magic making a coffee mug disappear and reappear. “Mr. Secretary, how can we help you?”

“Well, Colonel, as you can tell, we have a problem.” He replied, barely looking up at us him and his men shuffled through his papers. “Mr. Stark is gone, we need to assemble who we have left.”

“To fight a spaceship that’s no longer hovering over New York City?” Rayna asked and I threw her a look as he sighed.

“To fight off whatever threat we have.” Ross snapped. “What information do we have?”

“His name is Thanos.” Rhodes replied. “He’s…looking for some—he’s looking to destroy and take out half the universe.” Ross took a moment to glance at us, and I swallowed as his eyes flitted to me momentarily.

“And how do we know this?”

We both hesitated before I decided to come clean. “Dr. Banner has…returned. He was on the ship when Thanos attacked Thor…he’s gone.” Another sigh came from him as he handed something to one of his men, a few exchanging glances as Ross spoke.

“So Dr. Banner has conveniently returned with news and you’re telling me we lost the Asgardian?”

“That Asgardian risked his life to try and save us.” Rayna snapped as she shoved off the workbench, making some tools fall and clatter on the floor. “We would do well to take heed of the warning.”

They glared at each other as the tension became worse and I moved, grabbing her arm. “Rayna…”

“Stark is missing, Secretary. I suggest you begin being more cordial to the allies you do have left.” She replied, venom dripping from her words as she walked away, joining Banner in the next room. I threw Rhodes a look before following suit, staying close to them as they stood off to the side, Banner now rubbing his face a bit as he paced slowly.

Seemingly unaffected, Ross continued. “Still no word from Vision?”

Peaky Blinders: Dahlia finding out Alfie is alive

“There are binoculars on the table there, Mr. Shelby. He insists you admire the view. He will be with you shortly.”

I say nothing, don’t dare turn away from the sea as the breeze hits my face. He joins me with binoculars in his hand as the sound of her gathering a tray can be heard. If I had to guess, I would say perhaps tea. How wonderful would it be, to just sit here on a beautiful day and a cup of tea, reading and watching. I allow myself to wonder what it would be like to leave everything behind for this. I hadn’t had peace in so long, I feared I would never know it again.

“It’s been so long since I’ve travelled.” I say, breaking the silence as Tommy holds the binoculars up to his eyes. “So bloody long. The horrid woman would constantly make us travel; tutors changed frequently. Honestly, Tommy, it’s a wonder I had learned anything at all.” I scoffed.

“Mmm. Woes of the upper class.” He mutters back.

“Yes, I s’pose that’s one way to say it.” I sigh before looking over at him. “But you always say we’re better than them, Tommy. You said it about the Russians, even with Luca…you said it, and you say it now with the politicians. Thomas…our values as a family…we’re above this. We don’t believe in this. Please. I need to know if this man can help us.”

Tommy drops his hand, turning and looking at me when the sound of footsteps are heard. “Business first, Dahlia. Remember, business first.”

I go to retort, to ask him again, but I don’t get the chance.

“You out there, Tommy!” A male voice called, and I felt it then, a chill run through me that had little to do with the breeze. My heart squeezed as I stared at Tommy.

“Yeah. I’m here.”

“Tommy—” I breathed out.

“I was just having some oil rubbed into the bits that really hurt, mate. What do you think of that view, eh?”

I knew that voice. I knew that fucking voice. Tears welled and I fought like I never had before, refusing to cry. Tommy won’t look at me as he steps forward, and I am desperate enough to even contemplate clutching onto his sleeve, but don’t act on it.

“It’s Margate. What can you do?” Tommy replied as the placed the binoculars on the lounge. I watch as the man cuts the music I had barely noticed and turns.

Far Cry 5: Wren’s Cleansing and spitting water in John’s face

“This one?” a male voice echoed as I fought against heavy eyelids to see a blurred night sky. I saw a man in the corner of my eye with a wool sweater and messy hair, pointing to something on the ground.

“No. This one.” Another male voiced, his voice deep and well-spoken. Had it been any other situation, I would dare say it was soothing.

The scruffy man found his way to me, leaning over as he studied me with confusion. “Doesn’t seem very worthy.”

“It is not for us to judge.” The other man came into view, and he was much more put together than his companion. His dark hair was neat, and beard trimmed. He donned a trench coat, giving him an air of importance. “Deliver her unto the waters. The Cleansing begins tonight.” The grungy man reached for me just as I faded back to blackness.

“The water must wash away our past.” A voice echoed and I stirred. He was muffled and I couldn’t place the odd sensation as I began to become aware. It was as if my head was buried beneath sand. My body began to protest, my chest burning, and it was only then that I had realized I wasn’t breathing at all. I was fully awake now and staring at the face of one of the men I had seen earlier, holding me down beneath the water. “We must expose our sins. We must atone…” The man pulled me forward through the surface of the water. I took a quick breath, my gasp only audible between me and my new friend. I finally was able to take everything in. It was night, obviously, and we were on the bank of the river. My head was still screwy from the bliss in my system, but I could make out the lace in the trees and the van parked underneath. But it was the man standing before us that had my attention. John Seed. I recognized him from the intel Dutch had on him at the bunker and the broadcast. Not to mention the pictures and billboards he had all over the place. His trench coat was gone, showing the blue button up shirt and black waistcoat he wore underneath. The others were being walked to him as he read from a white book, his thumb rubbing a symbol on their foreheads. “For only then may we stand in the light of God and walk through his Gate unto Eden.” He said as he marked the last person, before he turned to me and closed his book as I was escorted to him.

“Not this one.” He said as he studied me for only a second, but it felt like forever. His eyes drew me in and I almost squirmed under his scrutinizing gaze. It pinned me to my spot in the river as he handed his book off to my Baptist Buddy. “This one’s not clean.” His was low, mesmerizing. It was honey, just enough of a hint of danger to pull you in, making what he did catch me off guard completely. His hands were on the base of my neck, his thumbs only applying a slight pressure to my throat, almost teasingly. He put more pressure into his palms against my collarbone, forcing me underwater once more. My gasp of shock forcing water in my mouth this time. I thrashed against his hands, but it was no use. He was immovable, a marble statue against my paper-thin attempts against him. My hands tried to pull at the rolled-up sleeves in panic, and he finally pulled me up.

“Ahhhhh.”  He sighed at first, but then my rage overcame me. Out of spite, and for the actual need to dispose of it, I spit the water that had flooded into my mouth in his face. There was a moment of dead silence as his men stood in shock and fear, waiting to see what their Baptist would do. John closed his eyes for a second as I could see the rage cross his features. But as soon as it came, it was gone. His eyes opened again with a mix of malice and taunting, and tsked at me with smirk as he shook his head. “Shhhh.” I clawed at his arms as he went to push me down again, until a voice made him stop dead in his tracks.

[quickspinner]

Beautiful Dreams - Ch 3 Dreams Worth Chasing

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | AO3

Marinette was on her way to pick up her missing folder, and Luka had a plan. Sort of. He caught himself chewing his freshly painted thumbnail and made a face (both at himself and the taste). He was going to be a wreck by the time she got here if he didn’t do something. 

Luka picked up his electric guitar and cranked his amp. Rocking out was always the best way to deal with nerves. He was breathing a little hard by the time he finished his own version of Jagged Stone’s Rock Giant but he was comparatively relaxed when a slightly timid knock sounded on his door. 

Okay. He could do this. He was smooth, no matter how much Juleka liked to pick on him. 

Luka opened the door and there she was, stylish and put together as always, and as always his heart stuttered in his chest. Her hair was looking a little windblown and a strand stuck to her lips. Her eyes widened slightly when she saw him, and he didn’t miss the way her gaze flicked over his white t-shirt and black jeans, nor the faint color that tinted her cheeks. He tended to keep his arms covered when he was with his students, as the type of parents who could afford his rates were often the type who didn’t really appreciate tattoos, but he’d left his arms bare today just to see if he’d been imagining things at the market. He concluded a little smugly that he hadn’t and Marinette wasn’t put off by his ink at all. That gave him the boost he needed to stop staring like an idiot himself.

“Come on in,” he offered, stepping back. “I put it in the back so I wouldn’t lose it or spill anything on it, I’ll go grab it. Make yourself at home.”

“Last time I did that I fell asleep,” Marinette said wryly, and he laughed, wincing slightly at how it echoed in the hallway.

“I hope you’re better rested today,” he called as he reached for the folder where he’d left it on top of his dresser. 

“I wish. Was that you playing just now?” she asked when he returned with the folder in hand, and then answered herself before he could. “Sorry, that was a stupid question, of course it was you. It was good—I mean of course, you’d be good, you’re a teacher. I just—I’m a big fan of Jagged Stone and…” She seemed to run out of steam, blushing.

He’d thought he was too old to get butterflies in his stomach but the idea that her slip-up at the market hadn’t been just a fluke, that she was nervous because maybe she was just a little bit affected by him too was enough to make him feel sixteen again for the second time in as many weeks. 

“I’m a teacher,” Luka said, leaning one shoulder against the wall as casually as possible. “But I’m a musician first and the electric guitar’s always been my first love. I play every chance I get. I’m glad you liked it, I’m a big fan of Jagged Stone myself.” He held the folder out to her.

Marinette took it, her gaze on the floor. “He’s actually one of my oldest clients.”

“Really?” He raised his eyebrows. “That’s impressive. Louis told me you worked for him, but I didn’t realize you’d been working with him that long.”

“It was luck that started it, really, but we’ve had a good working relationship. Not so much lately since he’s sort of semi-retired but…” She trailed off, blushing harder, and Luka gestured to a poster on his wall. 

“Louis told me you designed that one. He’s very proud of you. As he should be, I’m really impressed,” he said. “It’s one of my favorites.” He grinned back at her. “You’re really talented, Marinette.” 

She lit up red as a tomato and stammered something about needing to go.

“Of course,” he said, stepping back and motioning her ahead of him. “I don’t want to keep you if you’re busy.” That’s such a lie. I want to keep you forever.

He walked her to the door. Now or never, Couffaine.

“Marinette.” Luka took a folded piece of paper from his pocket and offered it to her. “If you’d like to hear more, my band is playing this weekend. I’d love for you to come.” 

“Oh,” Marinette said, taking the paper and unfolding it slowly to look at the flier. “I’m...not sure? I’ll have to see if I’m free.”

“I understand. Well, I hope you can make it.” He took a breath. “Maybe after our set is over, I can buy you a drink.” 

Her gaze snapped to his face and Luka did all he could to keep his expression relaxed and friendly, though his eyes were locked on hers. He shrugged slightly. “No pressure, just...if you feel like getting out.”

Marinette bit her lip and lowered her eyes, and then looked back up and smiled. “Okay, I’ll think about it.”

“Great.” Luka smiled and opened the door for her. “Have a good week.”

She smiled back at him, blushing faintly. “Thanks. You too.”

He watched her get into her car, and then stepped back inside, shut the door, and leaned against it, all his breath rushing out with a whoosh. “Your move, dreamer,” he muttered. “Hope I see you Saturday. If you come, it’s on.” 

***

Luka went through his usual pre-show routine, and his body and mind readied themselves to sink into the music in response. If he had something different than usual dwelling at the corners of his mind, no one noticed, and no one spoke to him, his bandmates having long ago learned to respect his space before a show.

If there was any place at all that Luka could feel at home outside of his family, it was at the club. He’d practically grown up in the back rooms of clubs and bars and anywhere else they could find that had a stage and somewhere to plug in an amp, trailing behind his mother with Juleka’s hand held tightly in his. Anarka Couffaine was fiery and bombastic where Luka was quiet and calm, but once he began to take the stage, first by her side and later on his own with Juleka at his, it became obvious he was his mother’s son. The stage contained and tempered Anarka’s fire, taming it into something other people could share. It fanned Luka’s flame, giving him the energy to reach out, to connect, to give others a glimpse of the inner world he guarded so carefully.

If Marinette was out there, beyond the stage light and the wall of crowd noise, she would see him tonight. 

She’s here, he thought to himself as he picked up his guitar and stripped the strap over his head. She has to be. 

No way he was going to fumble it this time. He was in his element here, he’d made his choice, made his peace with it, and now there was nothing left to do but act.

Behind him, the count tapped out, and Luka played.

***

For once, the pounding of his heart didn’t stop when he stepped off the stage. Luka accepted and returned the fistbumps and backslaps and congratulations of his bandmates on an excellent show. He stowed his gear as quickly as he could, and grabbed the extra bag he’d packed.

There was only so much he could do in the small, cramped bathroom, but he got his stage makeup washed off, freshened up as much as he could, and changed his shirt. He redid his eyeliner and ruffled up his hair, before taking a deep breath. He tossed his bag in the back with the rest of his stuff, and went to look for Marinette.  

He found her faster than he expected, wearing a slinky red dress and her hair pinned up, standing at a table with a couple of other people. Luka lingered just a moment to prepare himself and then slipped through the crowd and touched her elbow. “Hey, Marinette. Glad you could make it.”

“Luka!” The smile she turned on him was blinding. “Luka that was amazing!” 

He grinned back, instantly captivated. “Thanks, I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“I loved it! Oh!” She jumped as the brunette next to her elbowed her. “Um, Luka, this is my best friend Alya, and I’m pretty sure you and Nino have met.”

“We have. Good to see you again, Nino.” He exchanged a handshake and a shoulder bump with the other man, trying not to sigh at this slight complication. He hasn’t counted on having to hit on Marinette in front of her ex-husband’s best friend. 

Not that it was going to stop him.

Nino gave him a neutral nod as he pulled back. “Hey Luka, long time no see. The band was sick.” 

“Thanks,” Luka grinned, and offered his hand to Alya. “Nice to meet you, Alya.” She took his hand and looked him up and down, but not like she was checking him out—more like she was sizing him up. Luka had been on the receiving end of the BFF stare too many times to be bothered. He gave her his blandest smile and turned to Marinette. “So, can I buy you that drink?”

Marinette’s cheeks pinked. “Sure.” 

He walked Marinette to the bar and let her order what she liked, and got a beer for himself. “So you liked the set?”

“I loved it,” Marinette smiled up at him. “The covers were cool but there were some original songs in there too, right? I really liked the one you did…” She gestured vaguely, forehead creasing in thought. “Umm, I think it went ‘not the right hand, not the right touch, but she always said I needed too much’? And it had that amazing guitar solo in the middle? That was my favorite.”

“Yeah?” Luka grinned, leaning against the bar. “I wrote that one, I’m glad you liked it.”

Marinette’s eyes went huge. “You wrote it? Like out of nothing?”

“More or less,” Luka chuckled. “I roughed it out and wrote the instrumentals, and our vocalist Jenner, he helped me work out the lyrics and the vocals. Only fair, really, since he had to sing it. I can usually put the melodies together on my own, but I always have to have some help with the words.”

“The melodies were so evocative and emotional though,” Marinette said, picking up her drink as the bartender delivered it. “The words are just the icing on the cake.” 

“That’s nice of you to say,” Luka picked up his beer and motioned Marinette to precede him back to the table. 

Marinette didn’t move right away, giving him an adorably pouty look that came with such sad eyes that it made him want to cringe. “You make it sound like you think I’m insincere.”

“That was absolutely not my intention, I’m sorry.” Luka sighed and drummed his fingers on the bar, trying to find a better way to explain. “People tend to...notice words more, I guess. When people talk to us about a song they usually talk about how the words affected them, or that they thought this or that thing we did with the instrumentals is cool or catchy. I don’t get a lot of people who talk about how the music itself made them feel. So, what I meant was, thank you. That’s nice to hear.”

“Oh.” Marinette tucked a strand of hair back, clearly processing. “Then...you’re welcome. I really do feel that way, especially…” she hesitated, tilting her head slightly as she looked up at him. “Especially when you were taking the lead. I mean, I’m no expert, but, um...wow. That was incredible, what you can do with that guitar.” 

It might be a shy, hesitant flirt, but he’d take it. He leaned into her space just a little, one hand resting on the bar next to her elbow. “Well, considering you’ve spent a lot of time around Jagged Stone—and don’t think I don’t know he’s not the only musician you’ve worked with—I think I’m very flattered, expert or no.” 

He couldn’t quite see if she was blushing in the blue light coming off the bar, but he was pretty sure she was as she stammered something about getting back to the table and turned quickly, nearly tripping in her haste to put some space between them. Luka caught her arm to steady her, and rested just his fingertips on her back as he tried to shield her from some of the jostling of the crowd as they wound their way back to the table. Once over her initial fluster, she leaned back into his protection almost automatically, tucking her petite figure against his side when things got a bit tight. 

When they got back to her friends, Marinette excitedly recounted their conversation. It wasn’t quite enough to make Luka blush, he knew what his strengths were, but it did make it easy to keep a smile on his face. 

As Marinette talked on, Alya fixed Luka with a stare. When there was a lull in the conversation, she said, “Marinette, why don’t you go grab us another round.”

Marinette frowned. “Alya, nobody’s even finished—”

“Food,” Alya declared. “Get us some food. Please.” She reached over and slid Marinette’s glass in front of her. “I’ll watch your drink. Shoo.” 

Marinette rolled her eyes and stood up. “Rude,” she sniffed. “You better not ditch Luka all by himself while I’m gone.”

“Of course not!” Alya promised.

Luka frowned, wanting to offer to go in Marinette’s place, or at least to go with her, but it was obvious that Alya just wanted Marinette out of the way. If that was the case he might as well sit here and get it over with. The crowd was clearing a bit as the DJ got rolling, people pressing toward either the bar or the dance floor, so she’d probably be okay.

Sure enough, as soon as Marinette was out of earshot, Alya rounded on him. “So what’s the deal? Are you into my girl or what?”

Direct. He could appreciate that. “Yes.” He lifted his bottle to his lips, watching Marinette over Alya’s shoulder trying to make her way through the crowd. 

“Like a house and picket fence interested or like take her home and fuck her brains out interested?”

“Alya!” Nino hissed, looking horrified.

Luka barely managed to swallow before he laughed, putting his drink back down. “Both.”

“Oh my God,” Nino groaned, putting his hands over his face.

Alya grinned. “Good answer, Blue.”

“It’s Luka,” he said, amused. 

“Make it past the second date and I’ll consider remembering that. So you teach music for a living?”

“I do all kinds of music for a living, but my steadiest income comes from my students, yes.”

“And you’re okay with being a stepdad?”

“You really don’t have to answer any of this,” Nino broke in. “Alya, come on.”

Luka ignored him. “Totally. Louis is a great kid and I like him. Honestly I didn’t have the greatest example in the dad department myself, so it’s a little scary, but I can deal.”

“Would you want more kids than just Louis?”

“Sure, I’d be open to that someday. Though I’d want us all to get settled with each other first before we brought a baby into the mix.” Luka sat back and let Alya continue giving him the third degree, refusing to answer only a few very personal questions. Finally she folded her arms and regarded him thoughtfully.

Luka smiled. “So, do I pass?”

Alya snorted. “If you can live up to half of what you just said I’ll gift wrap her for you myself.” She leaned forward. “Take advantage of my girl and I’ll kill you. Push her into anything before she’s ready and there are no words for the kind of hell I will put you through.”

“Noted,” Luka replied without any change of expression. Alya gave a nod and stood up.

“Listen, be blunt with her. She’s terrible at flirting. You have no idea how many men hit on her and she never even noticed. If you just hint around like you did with this, even if you think you’re being obvious at the time, she’ll convince herself it doesn’t really mean what you’re trying to mean. Now I better go help Marinette or we’ll be waiting here all night.”

“I can’t believe you let her grill you like that,” Nino said as Alya walked away, his eyes glued to her...back. 

“It’s not the first best friend interrogation I’ve been through, although that was one of the more entertaining,” Luka grinned, propping his thick boots up on the currently empty chair next to him. “It’s usually easier to just go with it. What’s the harm if it gets her on board?”

There was no answer, and Luka looked over to find Nino regarding him soberly. “What?”

“Nothing, just...I thought you and Adrien were friends, dude.”

“We are.”

“You won’t be any more if he finds out you’re dating Marinette behind his back.”

“I’m not doing anything behind his back. If she actually agrees to go out with me, I’ll call and tell him myself.”

“He still loves her.”

Luka shrugged. “She still loves him too. You can see it every time she talks about him. But they’re done, and he doesn’t get a say anymore. And honestly man? If it was you and Alya was Adrien’s ex-wife, would it stop you?”

“You think you feel about Marinette like I feel about Alya?”

Luka looked across to where the girls were working their way back across the crowd. “Hell yeah,” he breathed. 

Nino blew out a long sigh, and lifted his glass. Luka clinked it with his bottle and they both took a long drink. “Then I guess, good luck, bro.” 

“Just do me a favor and don’t say anything to Adrien yet, okay?” Luka said. “I’m not asking you to lie to him if it comes up, but just leave it alone for now. She could still turn me down and I don’t want to cause a big shitstorm over nothing.”

Nino eyed him. “You’ll tell him before you two go out?”

“Absolutely.”

Nino sighed. “Okay.” 

The girls finally returned, setting an assortment of bar food on the table. “Dance with me, Nino,” Alya ordered.

“Yes ma’am,” Nino sighed, standing up with a put-upon air but a smile on his face. 

Luka watched them go and then turned back to Marinette as she settled back in her chair. 

“So,” Marinette sighed. “How bad was she?”

“Pretty bad,” Luka chuckled, and Marinette giggled nervously. “I didn’t mind though, she’s just looking out for you.”

“Sorry, I told her it wasn’t like that, but—“ she gestured vaguely, not meeting his eyes. 

Score one for the BFF. Blunt it is then. “What if it was like that?” Luka leaned his elbows on the table and tilted his head so that he was looking up at her. “What if I was hoping you’d come out tonight so that I could ask you out without being totally unprofessional?”

Marinette went red as a cherry and her mouth opened and closed and nothing came out. 

“I know we don’t know each other all that well, but I’d really like to change that.” He put his hand out, palm up, on the table. “So if you want, we can talk some and maybe dance a little and then, if you’re feeling it, I could take you out for coffee tomorrow?”

He could see her swallow. She looked like a deer in the headlights and he wondered if he’d been a little too direct. Luka withdrew, sitting back. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I won’t bring it up again.”

“No, I, it’s j-just, I mean I’m divorced and I have a k-kid and—and—“

“I know all that already,” Luka said gently, leaning forward again. 

“But—But I’m boring and you’re all dyed hair and tattoos and you can play guitar like that and—why would you want to go out with me?”

Luka’s smile spread slowly across his face. “Well that sounds like something we can talk about over coffee. If you’d like.” 

Marinette bit her lip and blushed, looking away, but he could see the smile tugging at her lips. "Coffee sounds nice," she finally managed, giving up on containing her smile. 

"Do you maybe want to join Nino and Alya on the dance floor?" he suggested. They both looked automatically towards the couple on the dance floor, only for Luka's eyebrows to raise and Marinette to bring a hand up to cover her jaw drop. 

"On second thought," Luka amended. "Maybe we'd better leave them to themselves." He coughed, trying to keep back his laughter. "Damn, I'm not sure whether to feel sorry for Nino or high-five him." He and Marinette exchanged a look, and they both broke down in a fit of laughter that lasted several minutes. 

***

When Marinette walked into the little coffee shop the next day, Luka had to slide his gaze away for a moment, trying not to remember how she looked under the club lights, her red dress swirling around her thighs when Alya had finally convinced her to dance while Luka and a still-flushed Nino watched from their table.

She was lovely in a different way today, soft and sweet in a peasant style top over jeans, her hair flowing loose around her shoulders. Luka was just as glad to be spared the distraction of her bare neck, though God did that loose hair make him want to tangle his fingers in it. 

He swallowed and managed to greet her in a mostly normal voice. “Can I get you something?” he asked her, but Marinette set her purse down and shook her head. 

“I’ll get it,” she smiled, and went to the counter to order. She didn’t ask for it to go, which he thought was a good sign. 

“How are you feeling this morning?” Luka asked when she came back and sat down at the table. “I hope we didn’t keep you out too late last night.”

“No, I’m fine,” Marinette said, waving her hands. “I’m kind of a night owl anyway, at least when Louis is with Adrien. Usually I’m designing and not dancing, but I had fun last night. A lot of fun. And the band, that was really great, I‘m really glad you invited me. ”

“That’s great to hear,” Luka smiled. “Have you thought about what we talked about?”

“I…” Marinette blushed, but went on bravely. “I like you, Luka. I think I’d like to go out with you. I just…” She chewed her lip.

“Go on,” Luka said gently. 

“I’m worried about Louis. And…” Marinette tapped a finger on her cup thoughtfully, staring at the table. “I’ve been with Adrien since we were kids. I’m not sure I even know what grownup dating looks like.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that.” Her eyes shot to his, like that was the last thing she’d expected him to say. Luka smiled at her. “I think it’s sweet. You were in love, you took a chance, and you gave it your best.” He took her hand carefully and squeezed it. “Listen, my sister and I were raised by a single mother, so I know at least a little bit about where you’re coming from—more than a little bit about where Louis is coming from, and I promise you I’ll be as sensitive with him as I can, and if we need to work with his therapist to figure out how to approach this with him then I’m absolutely willing to do that. But let me make something perfectly clear, Marinette. There is nothing wrong with you. You’re not leftovers or damaged goods or whatever other awful words that roll around in your mind when you hear the word divorce. You’re not a failure, you’re not a mistake, you’re not stupid for taking a chance on young love, and you are so far from being unloveable. Okay? And even if you decide that you don’t want to be with me, I don’t want you going into any other relationship thinking any of those things. So what if you don’t know what so-called ‘normal’ dating is? It’s not that big of a deal to ask a guy what that looks like to him and expect him to be honest back. There is nothing wrong with you. You are successful and smart and pretty and a great mom and there are a million guys out there who would fall all over themselves to date you. I’m just lucky enough to be the first in line.”

She stared at him, and he thought he saw a shimmer in the dim café lighting. Luka squeezed her hand and let go, standing up. “Tell you what, I’m gonna give you a minute. I’ll bring us back some pastries or something.”

When he got back to the table, Marinette looked a little more composed. “You’re very upfront with your feelings,” she observed quietly as he sat down.

“I try to be,” he agreed. “Partly because I’m not really that great with words and when I beat around the bush I end up creating a lot of misunderstandings. I’m not scaring you off, am I?”

“No, it’s just...I don’t think I’m as brave as you are.” Her gaze slanted away.

Luka touched the back of her hand. “May I?” She blushed and nodded, and he took her hand. “That’s all there is to it, Marinette. Just one decision at a time.” He held out his other hand. “It’s up to you.” She put her other hand slowly in his. “And if it’s too much and you change your mind, that’s okay too.” He opened his fingers so that he was just cradling each of her hands in his loosely. “You have a creator’s hands.” 

Marinette huffed. “Rough and scarred up?”

He grinned. “Just like mine. Although I would have said strong and capable.” 

She smiled self-deprecatingly. “I don’t think we compare. You’re a teacher and a musician. I just make clothes.”

“Art is art, Marinette, and don’t sell yourself short, I may not know much about fashion but I know that you don’t get a position like yours just because you can sew. And I doubt making clothes is all you do. You must have other interests. Can I ask about this?” He turned her hand slightly so that the ladybug tattoo was facing upwards.

“Oh,” Marinette said, blushing. “That was just—it was stupid.”

“I don’t think I believe that,” he said lightly. “But you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I know tattoos can get really personal.”

Marinette’s eyes slid away. “Maybe sometime, just...not now.” 

“Sure,” Luka said easily, letting her turn her hand in his so the ladybug was out of sight. “So tell me something else I don’t know about you.”

“Oh. Um,” Marinette frowned for a moment, thinking, and Luka’s mouth twitched as he tried not to smile at how seriously she took the question. “My father’s a baker. He and my mother own the bakery on Rue Gotlib, and that’s where I grew up. Sometimes I still design cakes for my parents, just for fun.” 

He listened to her talk about her family, and volunteered information about his. “My father’s never really been in the picture,” he told her. “Oddly enough we’ve gotten closer since my mom passed, but he travels a lot, so I only really see him every once in a while when he’s in town. My sister lives here, though, and we’re really close. I think I told you she and her wife just had a baby about a month ago, so that’s been a bit of an adventure for all of us.” 

“I remember those days,” Marinette said sympathetically. “It’s a huge adjustment for everybody.” 

“They’re doing great with it,” Luka said, smiling fondly, pulling out his phone, and pulling up a picture. He and Juleka leaned over Rose where she lay in a hospital bed holding up a little pink bundle for the camera. “That’s my sister, and that’s her wife Rose, and that’s Angelique.”

“Oh, how sweet,” Marinette cooed, leaning closer, and Luka swiped through a couple more pictures—he and Juleka hugging, him holding the baby, Rose and Juleka asleep on each other side-by-side in the narrow hospital bed—until he found a close up of Angie. “She’s precious.” 

“She’s been a light in our world this past year, just getting ready for her and watching her grow in the sonogram pictures,” Luka said, putting away the phone a little reluctantly. “I painted the nursery three times because Rose couldn’t pick a color and I don’t regret a second of it.” Marinette giggled, a hand over her mouth, and Luka smiled at her. “I try to get over and see them as often as I can without being in the way. She’s just learning how to smile now.” 

“Ooooh,” Marinette swooned, putting her hands to her chest. “When Louis was that age, Adrien used to—” She broke off and bit her lip. 

Luka’s expression didn’t change. “Go on,” he encouraged. 

She did, haltingly, and it took a few minutes to find their rhythm again, but then it began to flow. Marinette seemed to find it easier to talk about other people rather than herself, a fact Luka filed away for reference. It was funny, the way she talked about her friends and Louis and even her assistant at work while only just touching on her own thoughts. Luka didn’t press, content for the moment to learn about whatever part of her life she felt comfortable sharing.

“I have to go soon,” Luka said regretfully, checking the time. “I do actually have some students today. So, how are you feeling about a date?” He leaned his elbows on the table, trying to keep his tone casual. “I’m thinking maybe we could check out a museum and a café?”  

“That—“ Marinette took a deep breath, and then smiled. “That sounds really nice. I’d love to go.”

Luka grinned and they both pulled out their phones and hashed out a time and place. 

“It’s a date then,” Luka said, once everything was settled. “I have to go now, but...I’m really looking forward to it.” He reached over and tucked a lock of hair gently behind her ear, letting his fingers brush her suddenly blushing cheek lightly as he drew back. “See you soon, Marinette.”

“See you soon, Luka,” she said shyly as he got up from the table. He glanced back with a smile as he opened the door, and the little ladybug danced as she waved.

***

“Hi Luka. I got your message. What did you need? I thought the lessons were going well.”

”Hey, Adrien. Sorry to bother you but I...kind of need to talk to you about something. You’re probably not going to like it.”

“...You’re not calling to talk to me about Louis, are you?”

“No. I’m calling to tell you I’m taking Marinette out this weekend. On a date.”

“...”

“Adrien?”

“If I say I’m not okay with it?” 

“Then things are going to be rough for a while, because I’m not disrespecting her by asking for your permission. It’s not up to you, man. But I didn’t want you to find out from somebody else and think I was hiding it.”

“I might appreciate that eventually. I’m having a bit of trouble mustering any appreciation at the moment.”

“I understand. I know this sucks, man. I’m sorry for that.”

“Not sorry enough to back off.”

“Would you?”

“God, I really hate you right now, Couffaine.”

“Understood. Let me know when you’re ready to talk.”

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | AO3

[xxdearlybeloved]

Sweetheart

Modern!John x OC

A request from @twistedrunes​: Hello my darling, May I request number 28. “I have a name and it’s not sweetheart.” with John. Anytime in the modern era, but it made me think of a situation where the OC is an activist of some kind (perhaps a feminist in the 90's?). But really anything that takes your fancy. 😊

A/N: I usually do reader inserts, but this is in third person. What we have here is an alternate universe where John Shelby has a new neighbor. There is fluff angst and smut all in here.

She pulled onto the street, still learning to navigate her new neighborhood and the turns that led to her new house. She got out of her car, stretching and feeling the sun on her face. Her car was full of the last things from her old apartment. Piles of clothes and a few boxes.

Jo was used to being independent. She paid for her own school, had lived alone since she was 18, and had prided herself on being able to do most things on her own. It was how she was raised.

Now she was moving into her first house that she owned. She grabbed her keys and as much as she could carry with one arm. The house was small, but it was perfect because it was hers.  

John saw the car before he saw the new neighbor. He pulled into his driveway just as his new neighbor came outside, getting her last box from the car.  He didn��t really know the previous neighbors too well. A couple with a baby on the way had moved out only last week.

John parked his car, rolling his toothpick in his mouth as he watched her pull the box across the backseat of her car and take a deep breath. Clearly, she needed a hand and John figured it would be the neighborly thing to do.  

He couldn’t stop himself from walking towards her, surprised by how nervous he felt. She didn’t notice him at first, her upper body fully inside the car as she picked up items that fell out of her last box.  

“Oi, sweetheart. Need a hand?” he called, watching her emerge from the car and gracefully unfold before facing him. She didn’t say anything at first, running her eyes over this intruder who had the nerve to not only call her out of her name but also assume that she needed help.

Finally, she made eye contact. Her anger faltered a little as she felt herself falling into his baby blues. His eyes were confident, playful, but she couldn’t tell if he was completely harmless.  

She’d take the chance. “I have a name and it’s not sweetheart,” she said, her voice controlled as she kept her eyes locked on his.  

“What do they call you then, love?” John asked, a twinkle in his eye as he drew out the last word. She wasn’t annoyed but she was undeniably intrigued.  

“Jo,” she replied, pulling the hair tie from her curls and shaking them out before pulling them back again. John had to focus to keep his jaw closed as he watched her lift the box. Clearing his throat before offering again to lend a hand.

“I got it,” she said, throwing a wink over her shoulder as she carried the box inside.

-----

He must have been home because his car was, so she didn’t understand why it was taking him so long to come to the door. It was chillier out than she expected and she couldn’t wait for the warm comfort of her own home.  

Finally, he came to the door, towel draped around his waist as he peered at her. His face softened from annoyance as he took her in. “Jo,” he said. “Can I help you?”

“I just came to drop off your mail,” she said. “They delivered it to the wrong address”

“I’ve actually got something of yours, as well” he said, a sly smile on his face. “Come inside,” he stepped out of the way so that she could enter. She was hesitant at first, stepping across the threshold and almost melting at his scent as she passed by him.

He led her to the kitchen, taking a box off the counter that had clearly been opened before handing it to her. “I thought it was for me, didn’t read the name until I saw what was inside.” She couldn’t read the expression on his face, but as she peered into the box, she could have died in that very spot.

“So I take it you don’t have a man, then?” John’s expression was playful, but Jo could not make contact as she held the vibrator she had ordered in her hands. Why didn’t he just leave it at her door or something much less embarrassing for both of them.  

“I don’t need one,” she said, taking the toy out of the box and waving it at him. He laughed and that helped her relax, too.  

“I never said you needed one, love.” The look he was giving her made her heart stop. She definitely wasn’t cold anymore.  

“It’s Jo,” she said, clearing her throat. “Thank you for my package.”

“Anytime,” he replied, and she all but sprinted out of the door.  

------

Since she’d arrived, she’d been told that the best place for a Saturday night was The Garrison. It had taken months for the friends she’d made to get her there, but they finally did. She had to admit that it was fun, dressing up and letting her curls be free.  

She also couldn’t deny that she liked the attention. While she didn’t need a man, she would be lying to herself if she didn’t think that she missed the physical intimacy of another person.

Once inside, she understood why the place was so popular. The music was amazing, and she immediately lost herself with a guy who approached her on the dance floor. Usually, she would ignore them, content to dance alone without a stranger’s hands testing their boundaries on her body.

But tonight, she let just let it go.  

The guy was nice enough, so she let him buy her a drink, giving her friends the heads up that she would likely be leaving soon. She usually wasn’t fond of one-night stands, but it had been awhile since she’d felt properly touched by a man.  

She felt a hand on her arm and figured it was her beau, so she smiled at her friends and prepared to thank the guy for her drink. Instead she turned to find John.  

He looked down at her, an unreadable but amiable expression on his face. As she faced him, the slight inebriation did not stop her from smiling at him.

“You look beautiful, Jo” he said. John smiled at the look of surprise that came across her face. She knew where her mind wandered when placed her toy between her legs and she wondered if John could tell.  

She felt someone tap her on the shoulder and turned to find the guy she was originally expecting. He smiled at her, handing her the drink before looking at John.  

“Oh, Mr. Shelby, I didn’t mean to interrupt” Alan said, completely terrified. She looked at John in confusion, but he just looked at the other guy seemingly unbothered.

“You’re not interrupting, John is my neighbor,” she said, introducing the two. She sipped her drink while they made awkward small talk. Who knew silence could be so loud in a nightclub?

“Well, I’ll leave you to it,” John said, squeezing her hand before walking away and disappearing into the crowd. She was confused not only by the interaction, but also by the small pang in her heart she felt when he walked away.

“So, John is your neighbor?” Alan asked. The question caused her to smile.  

-----

As she got out of the Uber the next morning, she paused on the sidewalk, looking up at John’s house. It was still early, but she found her feet leading her up the path to John’s house. Her heart raced as she rang the doorbell and the time seemed to slow down as she waited for him to come to the door.

She was just about to leave, scolding herself for being so foolish, when the door opened. There was a sleepy looking John, with a smile on his face that she couldn’t help but return.

He didn’t say anything as he stepped aside, letting her in.  

He closed and locked the door, following her to the kitchen. “Breakfast?” he asked, going to open the fridge and pull out some eggs.  

“You cook?” she asked in pretend shock.

“I’ve picked up a few things along the way,” he said, turning on the stove and pulling down bowls.  

Neither of them said anything as John got to work, scrambling eggs and making toast. Jo watched him, feeling strangely at peace. She couldn’t remember the last time that someone had cooked for her, especially not a guy.  

John turned to find her smiling. “What’s so funny?” he asked, setting a plate in front of her before joining her at the table.  

“Nothing,” she replied. “You didn’t have to do this, thank you.” Jo couldn’t help staring, trying to reconcile the John that Alan described with the John that sat in front of her now.  

Apparently, this man was a gangster from a family of gangsters. They owned the Garrison as well as a sports betting house that looked legitimate from her online search. As she glanced around his modest house, there weren’t signs of the insane amounts of money that Alan said they had.

John watched Jo look around as if she was searching for something, but decided not to point it out. She was still in her outfit from last night, but seemed well rested, which probably meant...

“Got a lot of sleep last night, then?” John asked, getting up to take the plates back to the kitchen. He laughed at the look of shock on Jo’s face.  

“Excuse me?”  

“I just thought, you look like you got plenty of sleep last night,” John shrugged, a coy look on his face. Jo felt embarrassed. She hadn’t had sex like she planned, losing the desire after delving into her online search of the Shelby brothers and falling asleep on Alan’s couch.

She woke up and found herself at John’s house without even really knowing why. But maybe she did know why, and just maybe she was embarrassed that clearly John knew why as well.  

She stood up, cursing herself for being a complete idiot, thanked John for breakfast and let herself out. She didn’t turn around when he called after her.

John ran his hands through his hair, wondering when he would stop completely fucking up every relationship he had. He didn’t even really know Jo and already he had scared her away. He finished the dishes, thinking back to the quiet silence they shared at breakfast. He thought about how beautiful she looked the night before, laughing with her friends.

He knew he didn’t have to work hard to find girls to take home. That much was simple. It was finding a girl that he wanted to have breakfast with that had become the challenge, and yet again he had managed to blow it all to hell.  

Jo stood in the shower, letting herself cry.  She had internalized her parent’s message of independence so much so that she was afraid she had never learned what it was like to have someone to depend on.

She toweled off, put on comfortable clothes, and found herself on her couch watching reality television. She decided to order food, not feeling very much like cooking or cleaning.  

The doorbell rang and she grabbed some cash for a tip.  

She opened the door to find a very attractive, put together John. He had returned from an afternoon at the shop and couldn’t stop himself from coming to her house once he saw the lights on.

They both stood there, the silence feeling like a physical force between them. Jo took a tentative step back, before moving out of the way to let John in. As Jo closed the door and faced John again, she could see the emotion behind his eyes.

She stepped closer to him, letting her thumb brush his cheek before stepping up to place a gentle kiss on his lips. Her heart was pounding, she was sure he could hear it, but it didn’t stop her.  

She stepped back, preparing to apologize for her actions, but John closed the distance again, kissing her harder. She should not have been surprised that he was such a great kisser. She felt his hands on her waist, running up her body so slowly it made her shudder.

“Do you want me to stop?” John whispered into her lips. She shook her head, wrapping her arms around him and pressing her body and lips into his. John continued to run his hands over her, loving the little sounds she made as he explored her body.

His hands were at her waistband and she froze. “I can stop,” John said. She felt him pressed up against her and wanted nothing more in that moment than to feel him inside her. She moved her hands to his pants, undoing the zipper and pulling him out before stroking him slowly and firmly.

“You don’t learn that from a toy,” John said and she smiled, bringing her lips back to his. John pulled her pants and panties down, helping her out of them before picking her up by her thighs. Jo was pressed against the wall, one arm wrapped around John as the other hand impatiently guided him inside her.

This wasn’t the standard fuck for John. This wasn’t a Shelby groupie trying to get bragging rights with her friends. He wanted Jo the feel good, each thrust intentional and measured. She was lost in the pleasure of it all. John’s firm hands digging into her thighs, his grunts in her ear.

Breathless, she asked him to go faster, and he obliged. John felt himself losing control, but he wanted to feel her come and he told her so.

It seemed like that was all she needed as she fell apart in his arms while John whispered encouragement in her ear. She felt John come inside her and they both stayed there panting, unmoving.

John placed soft kisses on her lips as he lowered her down. She led him to the bathroom, cleaning him off first before starting to take care of herself. They heard the doorbell and she laughed.

While John went downstairs to get the food, Jo wondered what would happen after he left. She wasn’t even sure what she wanted to happen.  

She went downstairs to find John setting out the food. The rest of the night passed with them on the couch, neither wanting the other to leave.

The next morning, Jo’s alarm woke them both from the couch. John’s sleepy face was becoming one of her new favorite things. He helped her throw away the containers from last night before preparing to go to his own house to shower and get to the shop.

Jo walked him to the door, feeling a small pang in her heart as she watched him step outside. Before she closed the door, John turned as if he had forgotten something.  

“Do you want to come over for dinner tonight?” John asked. She nodded. He took out his phone and handed it to her so that she could put in her number. She handed the phone back to him and he leaned in to kiss her.  

“See you tonight, sweetheart” John called behind him.  

Jo laughed as she closed the door.

[takingcourage]

Miscalculations: A Witness AU

Chapter Two 

Catch up here: Prologue, Chapter One 

Pairing: M!Cassian x MC

Word Count: 2,650

Series Summary: After years apart, fate brings Kellen and Cassian together a third time. Can they learn from the mistakes of the past, or are they destined to repeat them once more?

Cassian made it to the bakery twenty minutes early. He’d simply hoped to arrive on time, but the subway had been surprisingly reliable for a Saturday morning. All the same, if he and Kellen made a habit of these meetings, he might consider investing in a car again. Or moving closer to this part of the city. Or maybe even moving in together...

He felt the blush creep up his neck as the bells jangled overhead to announce his entrance. Those are your nerves thinking. You’re getting way ahead of yourself, he cautioned during the walk to the counter. Maybe coffee would help to restore his sense. 

After receiving his order, he found an empty table and sat with his back against the wall. It was the perfect vantage point for both the store and the sidewalk, though any calming of nerves that might have resulted from sipping his drink was undone by his instinctive double take every time he caught a glimpse of brown hair. 

At 9:58, a slim woman passed in front of the window. By his third look, there was no mistaking that it was Kellen. Even before she slowed to come in, he was positive. 

Cassian waved as she quickly scanned the tables, uncertain how else to make his presence known. She raised her hand in reply before making her way to the register to place her order.

He froze for a moment. As he’d tossed and turned in bed the night before, he’d imagined them showing up at the same time and going to the counter together. He’d planned to insist on buying her coffee for old time’s sake before settling into a table that they chose together. 

So far, this encounter wasn’t going quite the way he’d anticipated. 

It was pretty clear that she wasn’t going to let him to pay for her, but would she want to move? What if she had a preferred table or side of the shop? What if she changed her mind about seeing him again? It wasn’t too late for her to take her coffee and go. 

Relax, he reminded, attempting a small smile. There’s nothing to be worried about. But his worries persisted nonetheless. He’d been both hoping for and dreading such a meeting almost since the moment he’d left her. Now that it was here, his mind was a revolving door of best and worst possible outcomes. 

Even though his eyes hardly left Kellen’s form, it was still something of a shock when she appeared at the table and sat down. 

“Hey.” She slipped into the chair across from him and unbuttoned her jacket, shrugging it onto the back of the seat. 

Mouth growing drier by the instant, Cassian managed a rough, “Hey,” before it turned entirely to cotton wool. Seeing her in the flesh after all of this time was almost uncanny. In so many ways, she was exactly as he remembered: all bright blue eyes and golden skin, her polite smile highlighted by a shade of nude lipstick he’d never seen her wear before. In short, she was every bit as stunning as his memories. 

Beyond her well-known appearance, however, was the underlying sense that she had changed. He couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was, but her presence seemed a bit calmer -- more relaxed, perhaps. But even with this increased sense of self, he didn’t miss the fact that she took her time with the initial sip of her latte, allowing him ample opportunity to make the first move. 

Cassian toyed with the cardboard band of his cup, eyes on Kellen’s long fingers as they spanned the width of her drink. How many nights had he dreamt of those fingers stroking his hair? Interlacing with his as they went together for an evening stroll? Stirring up unspeakable pleasures in the hours before they fell asleep? 

Clearing his throat, he eased himself back to reality. “Thanks for agreeing to meet with me.” 

“Harika said you wanted to talk.”

He hadn’t been expecting much, but it still stung a bit that those were the first words out of her mouth. “I did. I do. It’s good to see you again,” he continued, trying not to hope that she would return the sentiment. “I never expected that it would take so long for me to track you down. Can’t believe you’re finally here.”

Their eyes met briefly, and she glanced back down at the lid of her cup. She was holding something back. Cassian didn’t know what it was, but he recognized the slight bounce in her jaw as she bit her tongue. 

“Are you back in Boston for a while?” she inquired after a pause. 

“I think so, yeah. The job here opened up and I couldn’t resist. Missed the city too much.” 

“The international fugitive scene wasn’t everything you hoped for?”

As she leaned forward with the question, he saw that an eyelash had fallen onto her cheek. Three years ago, he would have brushed it away without a second thought, but the action was much too familiar now. He forced his eyes away with a pang of regret. Though mostly physical, he missed that intimacy immensely.

Noticing the crook of her brow, he realized his mind had wandered without providing a response. “The work was good for me, but I got my fill of it pretty quick. How’s finance? Got your name on the building yet?”

Kellen laughed, hinting at the closest thing to a genuine smile he’d seen since she arrived. “Let’s give it another few years.”

Cassian took her nod toward the future as a good sign. “But you like the work?” He’d expected the question would earn him a full smile, and he was delighted to be proven right. 

“I love it.” 

“Good. I’m glad to see you’re doing well.” He took another swig of his americano, weighing his words as the accustomed bitterness ran over his tongue. “I’ve missed you a lot. Spent a lot of time thinking about ya.” 

“Me too,” she admitted so quietly that he wondered if she’d meant to say the words aloud. 

“I know we’d talked about reevaluating where we were once I was back, but that was years ago. When I ran into Harika, I thought there might be a chance...” 

“A chance for what?”

Thoughts faltering, he lifted the cup to his lips to buy himself a few extra seconds. No matter what, his answer would be a gamble, and her tone gave nothing away. His head told him it was a mistake, but instinct drove him forward. “I loved you, Kellen. I might still love you,” he hedged. “And I’m not trying to force anything if you don’t want it. But I can’t help wondering if we’ve found each other again for a reason.” 

Kellen took a slow breath, regarding him from under thick, dark lashes. For a moment, he read the same longing he’d seen dozens of times before. That look was one of the reasons he’d kept hoping that they were on the brink of something serious. Though gone in an instant, it was completely beguiling while it lasted. 

“It’s really tempting, but a lot has changed. We can’t just jump back in time and go back to how things were.”

“Of course.”

“It’s been a rough few years for me -- not bad, but hard.” 

Cassian remembered what Harika had said about the stalker. “I can’t imagine, Kellen. After I promised to be there to protect you, it must have felt like I abandoned you.” 

There was a trace of something like confusion as she turned her face to the window. Eyes flashing, she took a slow breath before the moment passed. “I managed fine.”

"That’s no surprise, but I’m still sorry you had to go through it alone.” His hold on the cup tightened. In spite of the changes he’d picked up on, she was proving to be the same noncommittal, unsentimental Kellen. What did you expect? he asked himself as his thumb dug into the cardboard. 

“Like I said, it’s fine,” she equivocated. 

In spite of her willingness to meet with him, it was becoming abundantly clear that this wasn’t going to be as simple as picking up where they’d left off. If there was any hope of making this work, Cassian was going to have to start out slow and get to know the playing field again. With three years’ worth of baggage to sort through, it was difficult to know where to begin.

“I don’t want to push you into anything,” he tried, “if you’re not interested, that’s fine. But if you are, maybe we could spend some time catching up. I wanna hear about anything you wanna tell me.”

Kellen shifted toward the back of her seat. “Cassian, I probably should have led with this when I came in, but...” She sucked an audible breath, and he tensed in anticipation of the bad news he knew was coming. 

She wasn’t interested in him. This was going to be goodbye -- for real this time. With or without closure, he was finally going to have to learn to get over her. He dropped his gaze, hardly conscious of anything but his own pounding heartbeat. 

“Look. There isn’t an easy way to tell you this...” she pulled her lower lip between her teeth, as if steeling herself to deliver the final blow. “I was pregnant.”

Cassian’s heart stopped beating altogether.

“I found out a couple weeks after you left, but the phone would never connect when I tried to call. After months of silence, I stopped trying.”

He stared forward, dumbly. When he was capable of lifting his eyes from the laminate tabletop, all he could see was the glassy sheen in her own. As unusual a sight as it was, it hardly merited a second thought in the aftermath of that bombshell.��

“So, yeah. Life’s a little more complicated now than it was before you left. But I wouldn’t trade my son for anything.” 

Raking a hand through his hair, Cassian tried to grasp something real -- something tangible and familiar in the wake of reality crashing down around him. As much as he had hoped to someday be a father, this was never the way he’d expected to find out. 

“You have a son? My son?”

Her head bobbed with a slight nod. “He turned two in May.”

In the space of a second, the time of their separation had expanded into a chasm, impassable and full of days that could never be recovered. 

Living without Kellen had been a disappointment in many ways, but it was no tragedy. Being out of his son’s life for more than two years was an unfathomable loss.

It was a loss he was desperate to fix. 

“Can I meet him?”

She hesitated. “I knew you were going to ask that. I can’t blame you for wanting to be part of his life, but it’s not that simple.”  

“Don’t keep him from me, Kellen. Please.” He hadn’t even known of the child’s existence until minutes before, yet it was already unbearable to consider letting him go. Closure was the furthest thing from his mind.

He looked up to find Kellen’s eyes already on him. In them, he read the same uncertainty that he felt, accompanied by a pair of tears that had spilled carelessly over her lashes. 

In the four months they’d spent together, he’d seen her eyes spark from anger and weep from onions or the cool sea breezes, but he’d never seen her cry. This newfound vulnerability stoked his compassion, and he reached a hand under the table to take her knee. 

She tensed at first, a flicker of surprise disrupting the flow of her thoughts. On her next breath, she relaxed into the touch and covered his fingers with her own, still warm from her drink. “Okay. But will you agree to some ground rules?”

Cassian gripped her knee, leaning forward in the chair as he waited to hear her demands. “I will.” 

“He can’t know who you are yet.” 

His mouth settled into a firm line, but he nodded slightly. If it meant getting to be part of his son’s life, nothing else mattered. 

With her free hand, she swiped away the tears before they made it any further down her cheeks. Schooling her features, she became the picture of resolve once again. “I also need you to understand that this doesn’t mean you suddenly get access to the rest of his life. I’m willing to see how things go, but this has to happen on my terms.” 

Frustration mounting, he pulled his hand away and cast it through the hair at his temple. Being denied the first two years of his child’s life was already a bitter pill to swallow. Losing any more would only add insult to injury. 

“This isn’t how I wanted you to find out,” she told him softly. “I did everything I could to find you three years ago... But finding you now doesn’t mean that I can uproot everything that Owen’s ever known. I can’t do that to him.” 

Owen. Cassian latched onto the name, immediately torn between a strange sense of relief and the desire to cry. Owen Reed. If circumstances had been different -- if he hadn’t made the greatest mistake of his life -- the boy might even have been Owen Keane. His breath came in with a shiver. 

He had to make this right. 

“When can...?” the rest of the thought suffocated under his swelling emotions. 

“Tomorrow afternoon?”

His head swam as he processed the question, and a vigorous nod preceded his answer. “I’m free.” 

“There’s a park on the other side of the neighborhood that we sometimes go to on weekends. He’s usually up from his nap around 2:30 or so, so we could be there by 3:00...” 

”Should I bring anything, or...?”

Amused, her plush lips angled into a smirk. 

“It’s been a long time since I’ve gone to the park,” he chuckled wryly, and some of his tension dissipated. 

Eyes glinting almost playfully, her mouth fell into a pleasant curve. “Maybe wear clothes that can get a little dirty, but that’s it. Everything we need is already there.”

With a plan in place, their circumstances started to feel more real. He inhaled another shaky breath as his vision blurred beneath him. Somewhere in this city, there was a boy who’d had to live without knowing his father all because of a foolish decision he’d made three years before. 

He’d do everything in his power to make it right. 

“Tomorrow?”

I’ll text you the address later tonight,” she promised. “For now, I should get home. It’s been a busy week, and I promised Harika I’d be back before lunch.”

“Thanks, Kellen.” He wasn’t sure what he was thanking her for, exactly, but it felt appropriate, somehow. “I’m sorry.”

“I am too.” She scored the paper of her cup with her fingernail as he waited for further response. “But it is good to see you again. I’ve missed those gorgeous green eyes.”

 The compliment was genuine, and even if it wasn’t quite what he wanted to hear, it still had the power to evoke a smile. “They’ve missed seeing ya.”

“Goodbye, Cassian.” She fastened her jacket and stood. “See you tomorrow.” 

“Bye, Kellen. I’ll be waiting for that address.” 

“I won’t forget.”

He watched her retreating figure through the window until she disappeared into the crowd. Only after he’d lost sight of her did he expel the sigh that had been building over the last ten minutes. 

Much as he’d hoped this meeting would be life changing, what she’d shared had shifted his entire vision of the future. He wasn’t just a Marshal anymore; he was a father. The father to a boy he’d never even met. 

Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough. 

[flamingo-writes]

Long Time Friend — Zoro x Reader

Summary: Zoro can’t believe he’s about to lose his long time friend shortly after finding you once again. So he jumps off a cliff to save you, as the memories of your history together hit him. He clings to every chance he has to save you. 

Story set shortly after Franky joins the crew. 

A/N: so, I guess this marks the end of my slumpy writer’s block, which is great XD I guess I just needed a couple of day of not doing anything. I didn’t go to work today and haven't left my house since saturday night. I can’t remember when was the last time I spent a sunday all day long in my pjs not doing shit for the entire day. I still have some Fluffvember requests pending XD I’ll deliver them all soon. 

Word Count: 2K words

Warnings: Cursing. A little bit of angst.

Time seemed to turn slow. A hundred times slower, the world almost felt like it had stopped spinning right there. The deafening screams of the crew surrounding you, as their captain’s eyes widened in realization and fear. 

Motionless and tired, Strawhat Luffy became aware of how the edge of the cliff was starting to fall. His opponent flat on the ground, just like him, with the slight difference that Luffy was still conscious. However, as much as the sudden urge to flee hit him, he did not move. He couldn’t. Using his powers stretching them to his limits always left him unable to move for a few minutes. However, he did not have a few minutes right now, otherwise, he was going to drown in the sea. 

Being the closest to Strawhat, you sprinted, running faster than ever. Sure, Luffy wasn’t your captain, you had nothing to do with the Strawhat crew, except for Zoro, your long time friend. And you knew, how much Luffy meant to him. How much Luffy meant to the whole crew. And how much Zoro cared about the crew. Your first instinct was to rescue Luffy for Zoro’s sake. 

Reaching him. Luffy shouted your name, as you quickly grabbed his vest, and with the adrenaline rushing through your body, effortlessly you lifted him and threw him to the stable ground. For a brief second, you'd forgotten about the deep bleeding cut on your leg as you propelled Luffy into the air, feeling the gravity pull you down, along with the falling edge of the cliff. 

Upon his realization,Luffy yelled your name once more, louder than ever, as he realized you were going to fall to the ocean instead. Risking your life for him. It all played in a painful slow motion in your eyes. Luffy’s eyes widening, his desperate voice, the ground underneath your feet disintegrating, and the roaring of the ocean getting louder and louder. Looking at the sky, you noticed the shade of blue, gently turning orange, thinking how the ocean had a completely different tone of blue. A blue that was about to swallow you mercilessly. 

You fell into the ocean. 

Zoro, who had not been there to witness your sacrifice, arrived to the scene, where everyone was now running towards the fragile edge of the ground. Careful not to fall. The splash of the ocean dissipating into the waves, leaving no trace that something even fell. 

“[Name]!” Luffy cried. 

“Luffy!” Zoro said running towards his captain, as Luffy’s eyes teared up. “What happened?”

“[Name]!” Luffy sobbed “She saved me” Zoro’s eyes quickly scanned his surroundings, however, you weren’t anywhere to be seen. However, before he could ask, Luffy continued. “She fell into the sea” 

His heart stopped at once upon hearing his captain’s voice. His blood suddenly turning ice cold, his feet began moving on their own, rushing him to the edge along with everyone else. He was going to save you before you drowned. 

“Back off!” He shouted as his crew mates looked back at him. 

“What is he…” Sanji began. 

Ussop, terrified of the look in Zoro’s eyes, along with his raging speed, he got away, giving Zoro an entrance. A small place where to jump from. 

And he did. It wasn’t the first time he was jumping off land to save a devil fruit user. And it was not going to be the last one. 

The memories quickly went through his mind, motivating him, fueling his desire to save you. From the moment you met at the dojo, and the many years you spent training together. To the time you became bounty hunter partners before Zoro lost his way. He was far too happy to have found you again by chance after leaving Water 7. It felt as if it was some sort of dream. You two coming across each other for the first time after almost a year of straying from each other. 

Not just that. You two hung out, drank together and caught up on your adventures and how the both of you ended on the Grand Line. You two fought together for the sake of the local town’s people, fighting, back to back, just like the old times. And it felt so good.

Falling into the ocean, Zoro’s eyes scanned the darkness, looking for any sign of you. Swimming deeper and deeper, he kept recalling the good memories. Zoro remembered the warmth your eyes held, and the vibrant smile that lighted your face. The tight hug you gave him when you found him in that island felt so refreshing, for a brief second, he felt like he had returned home. 

He held onto those memories as he finally spotted your drowning shape sinking lower and lower. Grabbing your wrist, he pulled you up, closer to him, wrapping his arm around your waist as he began to swim upwards.  

Finally reaching the surface, he breathed in deeply, catching his breath. 

“[Name]!” He shouted, breathing in once more. “Fucking stay with me, [Name]” He said looking around, looking for the shore. 

Once he felt the sand on his feet, he grabbed on tightly to your passed out body and carried you to the shore. A few feet away from the sea, he gently put you back to the ground, kneeling next to you and his fingers pressing on your neck, looking for a pulse. And noticing how you were not breathing, it suddenly became impossible to do as well. 

Feeling the soft beating against his finger, he quickly let go of your neck and opened your mouth gently, breathing in deeply, and giving you mouth to mouth. He pressed your chest a few times between breaths. His mind clouded with the worst outcome, feeling as if he was the one drowning now. 

He then noticed the bleeding on your leg, and in a quick attempt to stop it so he could continue giving you CPR, he tied his bandana around your leg. 

“C’mon, I just found you again, you can’t just leave me yet” He whispered before breathing out into your mouth once more. 

After pressing your chest a few more times, you coughed loudly, water splashing out of your mouth. At once, Zoro helped you roll on your side so you wouldn’t swallow the water as you kept violently coughing.

A particular burn on your throat and nose, as your sight was terribly blurry, your eyes soar as well. You tried to catch your breath but kept coughing, a little bit less with each second until you were finally able to take a deep, yet painful, breath. 

You sat on the sand, Zoro holding on to you, helping you sit up. He had his arm around your shoulders and his face close to yours. You looked up and met his dark eyes, looking at you with an endearment you very rarely saw in him. 

“Zoro…” You whispered, feeling your head light and your body as if you had been beaten up. 

Before Zoro could rest his forehead against yours, without a previous waning, you passed out. Your head fell against his chest as Zoro felt his heart race again with fear. 

“[Name]?” He said shaking you gently. “[Name]?!” He said once more however there was no answer “Dammit” He cursed carrying you “I have to take you to Chopper, right now” 

With you in his arms he started running, getting deeper and deeper into the jungle with a vague idea of where he was and where the town was. He did not know where he was going, and he was completely and utterly lost, however, he was lucky enough to find the town at once. Looking around for someone who could help him, up to this point he was more desperate for any doctor instead of Chopper specifically. 

In the other hand, as soon as the Strawhats saw how Zorro had recklessly jumped into the ocean, all of them rushed down the hill, and towards the closest shore. Frank carried Luffy over, as all of them ran, hoping to find the both of you safe and sound on the shore by the time they made it. However, the hill was quite tall, making them worry about how much time they were taking it go down and reach the town a the base of the hill and closer to the shore. 

Once in town, they could hear Zoro’s cry for a doctor. And following his voice, they found him with you, lying unconscious on his arms. 

“[Name]!” Chopper yelled. 

“Chopper!” Zoro answered. 

“Let’s take her to the Sunny! Now” The little reindeer ran, leading the way as the crew followed close behind. 

It took hours before you regained consciousness. Your eyes flickered open, taking a while to adjust to the faint light and to your surroundings. From a small window you could see how the sky was now dark when the last time you looked at it, it was starting to turn orange. Trying to sit up, you became aware of the bed you were in, the clean white covers and the couple of IVs you had. One coming from the veins in your hands and the other from your inner elbow. 

“[Name]” You heard the small reindeer say as he approached your bed. “You’re awake! How are you feeling?” 

You continued looking around, noticing the small details of the infirmary and ou quickly assumed you were in the Strawhats ship. There was a small couch by the door, and there was Zoro dozing off. However, that didn’t last, since he opened his eyes open upon hearing your voice answering the doctor. 

“I’m...fine” You said unsure. “What happened?” You asked noticing how the IV on your inner elbow was connected to a blood bag and you were actually receiving a transfusion. 

“You lost a lot of blood from the cut on your leg. You needed a transfusion…” 

“Whose blood…” 

“Mine” Zoro said before you could finish your question. 

“Realy? I didn’t know we shared blood group” You answered smiling shyly as he got up from the couch and walked towards the bed. 

“Me neither” Stopping next to your bed, he ran his hand gently through your hair “Chopper ran some tests and turned out I was a perfect candidate for a donation” 

“Thank you” You whispered reaching his other hand and squeezing it lightly, something Chopper noticed and grinned widely. 

“No need to thank me” He said squeezing your hand gently, as he looked into your eyes, glad to see them once more full of life as ever “How are you feeling?” 

“Better, thank you” You answered and Chopper continued to see how the two of you interacted with each other “Also thank you for saving me” 

“I’m leaving real quick, if you need something let me know” Feeling like he was suddenly crowding the room, he grabbed his small blue backpack and decided to hide in the kitchen for a few minutes and eat some candy. 

“Yeah,it was nothing. Fighting back then felt…” Zoro began, his voice softer than before. 

“Nostalgic?” You added, smiling gently, feeling your cheeks turn a delicate shade of pink. 

“Yeah, I little bit” Zoro agreed chuckling. 

The two of you exchanged stares for a few silent seconds. Something of unknown origin, urged Zoro to lean closer. And as he did, you quickly wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer in another warm hug. 

“I missed you, Zoro” You whispered as Zoro hugged you back, tightly, gently squeezing you against him. 

“Me too” He purred.

“I thought I wasn’t going to see you again…” From the way your voice broke at the end, Zoro could tell you were close to crying any second now. 

“It’s alright now. I’m here with you” He comforted you as a few silent tears escaped your eyes and ran down your cheeks. 

Zoro broke the hug, still remaining close to you. The two of you once more looked into each other’s eyes, gazing into each other’s soul briefly before feeling the exact same impulse to kiss. Zoro first pressed his forehead next to yours before leaning closer to kiss you. 

His lips, warmed yours instantly in a gentle full kiss. Feeling the intention radiating through his lips almost as clear as words. You kissed him back, corresponding to the newfound attraction distance had apparently created between you two. Cupping his face in your hands, and Zoro’s arms still around you kept the two of you, cuddled into the gentle kiss. 

[thecassadilla]

Serendipity

Word Count: 3,427/AO3

Pairing: Kristanna

Summary: Apparently, the best way to meet someone during a global pandemic is for their groceries to be delivered to the wrong address. Or, how Anna and Kristoff meet for the first time during a time of social distancing.

Authors Note: Honestly don’t know how I managed to write this if I’m being honest...but it’s inspired by true events. Over the course of the past few weeks, the wrong groceries/food orders have been delivered to my apartment repeatedly and it usually just causes chaos between my roommates and I as we try to figure out where they belong. This also has the possibility of being expanded upon. I hope you like it!

Ser·en·dip·i·ty (noun) - the occurrence and development of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way.

“So, how are you liking living in Florida so far?” Anna asked as she plopped onto the couch beside her sister.

“I like spending time with you,” Elsa replied, skirting around the actual question.

Anna rolled her eyes. “You know that isn’t what I asked you.”

“Well…” she started, then paused. “It just seems so unnatural that it’s 93 degrees in March.”

Anna couldn’t help but laugh. “Just think of Australia - their summer is our winter and our summer is their winter, so it’s not that unnatural for it to be hot this time of year.”

“Yes, but your logic is flawed - if I recall correctly, Florida is hot for almost the entire year,” Elsa smirked. “I just prefer cold weather.”

“I don’t! No shoveling, sunny days - 

“Hurricanes.”

“You know as well as I do that there are hurricanes up north, too,” she responded with a glare.

Elsa shrugged, conceding. “I suppose you’re right.”

“I wish we weren’t quarantined. It’s Saturday, we could be at the beach. Or Disney World,” Anna pouted, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Better to be safe than sorry.”

“I know, I know. It’s not a bad thing to be stuck inside, but - ”

She was cut off by the doorbell ringing.

“Were you expecting company?” Elsa asked, a hint of nervousness in her voice.

“No,” Anna replied, sliding off the couch and maneuvering around the coffee table to get to the front door. “Social distancing, remember?”

Upon reaching the front door, she closed one eye and looked through the peephole. 

“No one’s there,” she remarked with a shrug. She unlocked the door, a blast of heat hitting her in the face, and lo and behold, a few bags of groceries sat on the floor in front of her door. “Oh crap, there are groceries here.”

Elsa quickly stood up and joined her at the door. “What do you mean? You didn’t order anything?”

“No,” she shook her head. “I bet they got delivered to the wrong apartment.”

She crouched down to look for a receipt or some kind of information about who the groceries actually belonged to.

“Don’t touch anything!” Elsa exclaimed. 

“It’ll be fine, Elsa. I’ll wash my hands. I just need to find out who these belong to,” she said, as she started to dig through the bags. Unfortunately for her, there was no receipt. 

“What do we do?”

“I have no idea,” Anna shrugged. “I could take a walk around the area and see if someone is looking for groceries.”

“That’s a horrible idea - we should be staying inside. And you can’t just ask strangers if they’re missing groceries, anyone would jump at the opportunity for free stuff.”

“Well we can’t just let it sit out here, some of this stuff is supposed to stay frozen.” She stood up and hopped over the bags. “I’ll be right back; just wait here and see if someone comes looking for them.”

She didn’t wait for Elsa to respond, and instead made her way down to the bottom floor of her building. No one was there, so she stepped outside the protection of the breezeway and into the bright sunlight. No one was on the sidewalk in the area around her building, and she wasn’t sure if it was a bright idea to start looking in the other nearby buildings. So, she turned around and went back under the cover of the building. She went up to the second floor, and didn’t see anybody around there either. As she walked through the breezeway, glancing at the other apartments, she swore she heard a door close and footsteps. She raced up to the third floor, again seeing no one, and then finally reached the top floor, where she lived. A man was waiting near her door, staring at the bags that were sitting on the doormat in front of her apartment. 

“Hey,” she panted, wiping sweat off her brow. “Are those your groceries?”

“I think so,” he smiled. 

“Sorry, I’m a little winded from running around,” she explained, placing her hands on her knees and attempting to catch her breath. “I told my sister to wait for someone to come by while I went looking, but I guess she got too hot. I’m glad you found them, though.”

“Thanks for not stealing them,” he responded, gathering the bags in his hands.  

“Anytime,” she said, waving a hand, unable to actually get a good look at him. As soon as he turned away and headed down the stairs, she re-entered her apartment. 

“Did you -” Elsa started, but Anna cut her off.

“Yes, yes,” she answered, still breathing heavily. “The guy was waiting outside our door.”

“Sorry, I got too warm just standing there with the door open.”

Anna wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. “How do you think I feel? I just ran around the entire building - and because there are no doors or windows, it’s practically outside and it’s hot.”

“Your face is really red,” Elsa pointed out.

“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” Anna remarked with an eye roll. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go take a shower.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A few days later, Anna would find herself in a similar predicament. Wanting to avoid leaving her apartment, she decided to order groceries to her apartment. 

“I’m going to take a nap,” Elsa announced, closing her laptop and standing up.

“Okay, if you hear the doorbell ring, just ignore it. It’s just the groceries I ordered,” Anna explained. Elsa nodded and retreated to her temporary bedroom.

She put on the television while she waited, hoping to kill a little time. A short while later, she received a notification that her groceries had been delivered - but no one rang the doorbell or even bothered to knock on the door. Confused, she stood up and walked to the door. Sure enough, upon opening it, she discovered that her groceries hadn't been delivered - to her, at least. They were definitely delivered to someone, though; the person who delivered them had uploaded a picture to the app, but it was incredibly unhelpful as she couldn't tell where exactly the groceries were. She suddenly felt frustrated, and quickly closed the door, ready to contact support from the website she ordered the groceries from. Before she could find their phone number, she swore she heard footsteps and opened the door again.

It was the man from a few days ago, carrying several bags of groceries. “Oh, uh, sorry. I think these are yours?”

“Did they get delivered to your apartment?” She wondered aloud. She was finally able to get a good look at him, unlike the other day, and jeez louise, was he attractive. Sandy blond hair, golden brown eyes, and the lightest dusting of freckles across his pale nose. He also had to be at least a foot taller than her, too, and she nearly found herself drooling over how good-looking he was. 

“Yeah, I ordered groceries too and thought it was weird when they got delivered earlier than they were supposed to - but there aren’t any ladies living in my apartment and I quickly realized they weren’t mine,” he remarked with a slight blush, placing the bags at her feet. 

Her own face turned red at the thought of her handsome neighbor discovering a box of tampons in what he thought were his groceries. “Well thank you for bringing them to me; I was just about to try and figure out where they were.”

“I think they’re getting the apartment numbers mixed up,” he concluded, pointing to the small plaque on the wall next to her door. “You’re in 403, and I’m right downstairs in 304.”

“Ah, that makes sense,” she agreed. “Thank you again, I really appreciate it.”

“Anytime,” he smiled, mimicking her sentiment from the other day. 

She smiled to herself and watched as he turned away and headed down the stairs, sneaking a single glance at her over his shoulder just as he moved out of her line of sight.

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Nearly a month went by without another incident, but Anna secretly found herself wishing and hoping that there would be another mix-up and she’d have the opportunity to see her incredibly handsome neighbor again. She couldn’t believe that she’d lived in the building for nearly a year and had only just laid eyes upon the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen - during a time of quarantine and social distancing, nonetheless. 

She also worried that she was being a little ridiculous about the whole situation; she’d only met the guy twice and they didn’t talk for long either time. But damn, she’d be lying if she said she didn’t dream about running her hands up and down his broad chest, or running her fingers through his hair. And then she’d remind herself that she didn’t even know his name, or anything about him, and, God, as awful as a global pandemic was, she really hated that she had so much free time to dwell on her thoughts. She wished that her roommates had stuck around so she’d have someone to gossip about her feelings with - it was too awkward to talk about with her sister. 

The sisters had settled into a routine to avoid driving each other insane; they’d focus on their work during the day, or relax if it was the weekend, in the privacy of their own rooms, and at night they’d convene for a few hours to cook dinner or watch a movie together. It was business as usual for them on a Friday night in late April; sitting on the couch and having a drink, ready to spend a few hours together.

Anna looked down at the wine she was sipping and sighed. “I miss cocktails.”

“You can make those at home, you know,” Elsa pointed out. 

“I know, but I miss going to a bar and getting a cocktail. I guess I’m starting to really miss the outside world.”

Elsa nodded. “I agree, and I never thought I’d miss leaving the house; I’m such a homebody.”

“I just wish this whole thing wasn’t happening,” she declared, shaking her head. “Anyway, what should we put on?”

They spent the next few minutes searching through titles on Netflix and finally agreed on something to watch. About fifteen minutes into the movie, a knock sounded out in the apartment.

“Did you hear that?” Elsa whispered, her eyes wide with panic.

“I think it was the front door,” Anna answered, placing her wine glass on the coffee table and standing up. She walked over to the front door and glanced out the peephole. “There’s no one there.”

“Here we go again,” Elsa groaned.

Anna swung open the door, and sure enough, a meal that they didn’t order had been delivered to their apartment. Her heart leapt with excitement, and she crouched down to get a better look at what had been delivered. She glanced at the receipt stapled to the bag and immediately became confused.

“Elsa, can you come read this?”

Elsa joined her in the doorway and glanced down at the receipt. “What am I missing?”

“This receipt has our apartment number on it. Look, it says 403, right?”

Elsa squinted at the tiny sheet of paper. “I suppose it does. That’s strange. Maybe we should call the company that delivered it? I’m sure someone is awfully disappointed that their food hasn’t arrived.”

“I bet it was supposed to go to that guy downstairs,” she said, grabbing the bag in her hand and standing up. “I can bring it to him.”

“Anna, you don’t even know that it belongs to him!” 

“Well, I’m about to find out,” she retorted confidently, turning on her heel and walking towards the stairs.

“You’re not even wearing shoes!” Elsa called after her, stepping into the breezeway. 

“I have slippers on!” She yelled back, already halfway down the staircase. She heard her door close and grinned, as it meant that Elsa had given up. When she reached the third floor, she cautiously approached the apartment, and decided it would probably be better to place the food down in front of the door so she wouldn’t have to hand it directly to him. She did so, rang the doorbell and then took a few steps back. A moment later, the door opened. 

“Hey,” he smiled, leaning against the door frame. “What’s up?”

“I think your food got delivered to my apartment,” she said, motioning to the bag she’d placed on the welcome mat.

He glanced down and frowned. “I’m sorry, I don’t think this is ours.”

Her face fell at the revelation. “Oh, I thought -”

Just then, a shorter man with dark hair appeared in the doorway. “Cool, our food is here.”

“You ordered food and didn’t say anything?”

“Yeah, it was supposed to be a surprise,” he answered, bending down to scoop up the bag. As he turned back into the apartment, he patted his friend on the arm. “Happy birthday, man.”

The taller man groaned and closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

“Happy birthday!” Anna exclaimed excitedly. 

“Thank you,” he blushed. “And thanks for bringing the food down here.”

“Of course!” She smiled. “And just a heads up, your friend accidentally put my apartment down on the order, so that’s why it was delivered to me instead of you.”

He blushed even harder and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “Sorry about that, he’s an idiot.”

“I can hear you!” Called a voice from inside the apartment and Anna couldn’t help but giggle.

“Well, I hope you enjoy the rest of your birthday,” she offered. “And I’m really sorry that you can’t go out and celebrate.”

“It’s all good, I probably would’ve been doing the same thing, honestly,” he shrugged.

“I’ll be really bummed if I have to celebrate my birthday in my apartment, and it's not even for another two months,” she stated, but decided to clarify. “Don’t get me wrong, I’ll stay where I’m supposed to until it’s safe, but like, I’ll still be upset.”

He nodded in agreement. “Hopefully life will be different by then.”

“I really hope so,” she sighed. “Anyway, your food is probably getting cold, so I’ll stop talking so you can go eat.”

“Oh, okay,” he said, sounding slightly disappointed. “Thanks again.”

She gave him a small smile. “Anytime,” she promised, forcing herself to turn away and start heading up the stairs. 

“Hey,” he called out before she could reach the second step. “I didn’t catch your name.”

“Anna,” she answered, turning back to face him.

“I’m Kristoff,” he grinned sheepishly. “Nice to formally meet you.”

“Third times the charm,” she joked. “I’d shake your hand, but y’know, germs.”

“Pity,” he mumbled.

“I mean, we totally could - if you wanted to - and I could just go wash my hands, but that would be bad social distancing, right? I haven’t come in contact with anybody who was sick, I think, so you wouldn’t have to worry about catching it from me; my sister and I haven’t even left the apartment in a month. But then again, I could be one of those people who got it but never had any symptoms, so maybe it would be a bad idea after all,” she spoke quickly, and when he chuckled in response, she blushed. “Sorry, I ramble a lot.”

“Don’t be sorry - it was actually really adorable,” he smirked. “I, personally, don’t care either way. It’s just my roommate and I here, and neither of us has left in a while, but a handshake would definitely be considered bad social distancing.”

Her heart fluttered a little when he called her rambling adorable; everyone else thought it was annoying. “No one would know but us, but I think it would be, like, morally wrong? If that makes sense.”

“I never would’ve thought I’d be having such a difficult conversation about a handshake,” he laughed.

There was a moment where neither of them spoke, until a brilliant idea popped into Anna’s mind. “How about a compromise?”

He raised an eyebrow. “I’m listening.”

“How about I give you my phone number so we can stay in touch until it’s socially acceptable to shake hands again?”

The corners of his mouth turned up. “Yeah. That would be great.”

She recited her number and he promptly typed it into his phone. “You’ll have to text me so I can get your number because I left my phone upstairs.”

“Easy enough,” he vowed.

“Now, I could stand out here and talk all day, but your dinner is definitely cold and my sister is probably having a conniption fit, so I should probably go now. But you can text me whenever, okay?”

He chuckled. “Okay,” he agreed with a nod.

“And try to enjoy the rest of your birthday,” she commanded.

“Thank you.”

She smiled one last time before finally turning around and jogging up the rest of the steps. She was absolutely giddy but was going to attempt to hide the fact that she wanted to jump up and down from excitement from her sister.

Elsa turned to look at her as soon as she opened the door, like a parent who had just caught their child sneaking in later than expected. “What took you so long?”

“We were just talking,” she answered coolly, locking the door behind her.

“Anna! That’s so dangerous!”

She walked around the coffee table, ignoring Elsa’s glare, and settled back into her spot on the couch. “It’s fine, I kept a safe distance.”

Elsa shook her head. “I hope we don’t get sick now. That was so reckless.”

“It’ll be fine,” she said, brushing her off and eagerly grabbing her phone to check for any new messages. When she saw that she had one, she smiled to herself. “It’ll all be fine.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Hey, Ryder, where did you put the food?” Kristoff asked as he made his way back into the apartment, sliding his phone into his pocket, adrenaline coursing through his veins.

He popped his head out of his bedroom door. “Yours is in the fridge, I already ate mine.”

“You seriously couldn’t wait for me?”

“I didn’t know how long you were going to stand there and awkwardly flirt with that girl, so no.”

“You’re incredible,” Kristoff grumbled.

“What? I still got you food!”

“Yeah, thanks for that. But I thought you ordered the food so we could eat together for my birthday.”

“Ohhhhh,” he chuckled. “No, you misunderstood.”

Kristoff shook his head. “I’m confused.”

“Your birthday gift was that I sent the food upstairs instead of directly to us. The food is just a bonus.”

“You put the wrong apartment number intentionally?” He asked incredulously. 

“Duh,” Ryder remarked, rolling his eyes.

“Why would you do that?”

“Because I got tired of hearing about the girl upstairs. ‘The girl upstairs is so pretty.’ ‘The girl upstairs this, the girl upstairs that,’” he said, in a tone mocking Kristoff’s voice. “You haven’t shut up about her since the first time you saw her, even though you literally said she was all sweaty and gross from running around outside. Like, I get it; you like her. But I’ve been hearing it for a month now - tell her that, not me.”

“First of all, I never said she was gross -”

Ryder cut him off. “It’s hotter than Satan's asshole out there; she was definitely gross.”

“Second, read the room, dude! There’s a fucking pandemic going on, you can’t just jeopardize people’s health like that,” he snapped, then softened his voice before continuing. “Maybe I could’ve talked to her when all this stuff is over.” 

“I know you, man. You wouldn’t have done anything; you would’ve been all ‘oh I don’t want to bother her, she probably has a boyfriend’ and would’ve carried on being miserable or something.” Ryder rolled his eyes. “And if you weren’t going to make a move, then I was going to do it for you. Did you get her number this time?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “In fact, I already texted her.”

“See! My master plan worked. Now you can talk to the pretty girl instead of just daydreaming about her all day.”

“You’re a conniving bastard, you know that?” Kristoff joked, giving him a playful shove. 

Ryder gave him a huge grin. “Yeah, but you know you love me! Now go eat your dinner and text your pretty friend.”

Kristoff couldn’t help but smile to himself. What had started as a minor inconvenience had developed into something great - something serendipitous.