#it’s rare to even inform a friend let alone best friend you have romantic feelings | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 years ago

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If I Fell For You (Part 4) - Safety Nets

Summary: The reader has her first date with Jensen, a simple dinner at home with him and the kids, but when they get a moment alone, he shares some information about the accident hardly anyone knows. Just as things start to get moving with the pair, Jensen has to head to Canada for filming ahead of schedule but he’s not so sure he can go back to whole weeks away from his family right now...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Word Count: 5,200ish

Warnings: language, death of a spouse, mention of injury, depression, anxiety, self-worth problems

A/N: Shopping buddies are the best ;) Please enjoy!

________

“Can I help set the table?” you asked the next evening, Jensen shaking his head at you.

“JJ, can you set the table for me?” asked Jensen. She jumped up from the couch and got out silverware, setting an extra spot for you.

“Y/N, are you and dad on a date?” she asked when she finished up. You looked down from where you leaned back against the counter, Jensen chuckling.

“Yes we are sweetie. If this goes well I’d like to take Y/N out on Friday, maybe you guys can go to Uncle Jared and Aunt Gen’s,” he said.

“You should go out with dad,” said JJ.

“Oh I should?” you said, crossing your arms. “Why’s that?”

“Cause he’s strong and handsome and smart and funny and…” she said, holding up her hand and counting on her hand.

“The hair,” he whispered, a smirk crossing your face.

“Oh and he’s only got a few gray hairs!” she said.

“Oh. Well that is interesting,” you laughed, Jensen smacking himself in the face.

“Great hair, JJ. Not gray. Great,” he said.

“You do have gray whiskers,” she said.

“Like...barely,” he said. “See what I put up with? A few teensy tiny little patches in my beard if it grows out.”

“I don’t know if I can date a man of such frail age,” you said. He cocked his head and you laughed, JJ giggling as she went to get the plates.

“Keep it up you two,” he said. You walked over to him, JJ going past with the plates. “Come to tease some more?”

“I was told you’re quite handsome, thought I’d get a closer look,” you said.

“You can have as close a look as you want,” he said, flashing you a wink.

“Calm yourself, Casanova,” you said, reaching up to the cupboard to get another plate for JJ. “Here sweetie.”

“Thanks,” she said. She set it ran back over, hugging you. “Don’t go.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you said.

“Good,” she said. You bent down and picked her up, resting her on your hip.

“Where’d you think I was going?” you asked. She shrugged and Jensen stopped stirring the pot.

“I don’t know. Wherever you were before. Dad’s a lot happier since you live with us now,” she said.

“Well taking care of you three is hard all by yourself,” you said. You set her down and patted her head. “Go get your brother and sister for dinner.”

“You’re good with them,” he said, stirring the pot again.

“They’re people. Small people that don’t know half of what adults do but still people. Sometimes you gotta treat ‘em like it. Most of the time actually,” you said.

“I talked to her earlier about this whole situation,” he said.

“Besides listing off all your selling points what’d she think?”

“Well apparently she’s in favor of me asking if you’d marry me tonight,” he said.

“Oh. Shotgun wedding. Simple. I like it,” you laughed. He turned his head and smiled, glancing down for a long moment, slowly returning.

“Why doesn’t this situation scare you? The kids, me who has been all over the place lately, not to mention my job, long distance, the shit you get just for-” he said, your hand covering his mouth.

“I didn’t say it’s not a lot, Jensen. It’s scary. Of course it is. Every single one of my relationships has ended badly for one reason or another. Friendships. Family ones. Romantic ones. You’re handsome and you’re so successful and I’m literally a nanny but you said you wouldn’t hurt me. So I’ll trust that you won’t and you trust I won’t hurt you and it’ll work itself out.”

“That simple huh.”

“I’m easy going. Let’s keep it simple,” you said.

“Simple works,” he said as you pulled the pot off the burner before it bubbled over. “Simple definitely works.”

“This is not a good idea,” you said two hours later, the kids in bed, you and Jensen jumping up and down on the trampoline in the yard.

“Oh most certainly not,” he said, landing near you and sending you up. You yelped and landed back down on your bottom, Jensen bouncing again, sending you up again and laughing this time. “Well that’s a cute sound.”

“Boys. Is it taught somewhere that you gotta tease a girl when you like her?” you asked, Jensen pulling you to your feet and bouncing around lightly.

“Right after manly man class, duh,” he said.

“You would have failed, I can tell you right now,” you said. He scoffed and you shrugged. “That’s kinda a really good thing.”

“That your ex? Tough guy all the time?” he asked.

“Not like, to that extent or anything. I had a bad day and I really needed someone and he let me down. He got mad at me for it actually. He called depression a phase I needed to get over with,” you said. He stopped bouncing and you did the same, glancing down. Next thing you knew he playfully tackled you onto the trampoline, rolling to his side and smiling at you.

“Some of my friends have it. One of my best friends does. Jared. If he ever knocks on the door late at night or whatever, let him in.”

“You take care of everyone in your life it seems,” you said.

“You take care of the people you care about, not insult them. Hopefully the ex figures that out someday.”

“How’d you figure it out?”

“I don’t do anything anyone else shouldn’t,” he said.

“Maybe that’s it,” you said. “You’re unapologetically good and you don’t even know how rare that is.”

“It takes up too much energy to be angry or mean or cruel. I’d just rather be happy,” he said.

“You got a lot of friends, don’t you.”

“My fair share,” he said.

“How many would you call close?”

“Maybe ten or so.”

“How many real close?”

“Two or three.”

“How many know what really happened that day? Your wife…” you said. He stared at you and swallowed.

“How do you know?” he asked quietly.

“Because when we met you said she died in an accident but then you said it was her head. You’re holding onto something, something you don’t talk about.”

“She was driving when the aneurysm happened. I was in the car with her. I almost died. It’s seemed easier to lie about that.”

“Who knows?”

“My parents and Jared. They’re the only ones.”

“You ever talk to anyone about it?”

“I went to talk to someone a few times. I’m better now,” he said with a smile. “I don’t share a lot if you may have guessed already. Not to too many people. But you it feels so easy to.”

“Must be special,” you said. He smiled and reached a hand over, twirling a piece of your hair in his fingers. “That why you like me?”

“There’s a lot of stereotypical reasons to like someone and part of that is true in why you choose someone I suppose. But there’s this other part that when you meet someone that you can’t really explain.”

“I get that. I get all of it. My brain always seems to want to go to the bad scenario first I suppose,” you said. You looked up at the black sky, Jensen toying with another strand between two fingers. “I wish it didn’t do that so much.”

“You’re just trying to protect yourself is all,” he said.

“But I come off as pushy and distant,” you said, turning your head. “Like I’m that person that’s cool with everything being casual.”

“Well think of it like this trampoline. It’s the only thing holding us up right now right?” he asked and you hummed. “Well my life, I’ve had thousands of safety nets below me to catch me when I fall so even if I tore through one, there was more to hold me up while the others got fixed. You never had as many to start and I think more of yours broke and there was no way to fix them in time so you kept tumbling through until you got to the ground.”

“Your point?”

“Maybe some people hit the ground and others never do. But the people who hit the ground, as they go back up they can make the best most solid nets in the world to hold them up. One good net beats a thousand flimsy ones.”

“So at what age do I get the wisdom?” you asked, turning your head and smiling over at him.

“You don’t. My job has made me fall through more nets than I wanted to and this year made me realize I might not have a thousand strong nets at the bottom but I just needed one to get by and now I’m working back up. You’re not even close to being down low either. You’ve already had the hardest part of your life. It’s all up from here.”

You leaned over and he lay back on the trampoline, gazing up at you. You lowered your head as he cupped your cheek, pulling you in close until your lips were touching. Part of your mind was reeling from that in itself but the other half knew that was his first kiss since his wife. You inched back but stayed close, Jensen peeling open his eyes.

“You okay?” you asked.

“Very,” he said. You lay back beside him, Jensen letting you go. His hand reached out for yours though and laced your fingers together. “Why’d you kiss me?”

“Wanted to,” you said.

“Cool. I wanted to kiss you too,” he said.

“Alright then.” You stared upwards, the trampoline shifting again. He popped into view propped up on one arm, your head turning slightly. He was flush, even in the dim light. He moved slowly but you let him come to you, a barely there gentle kiss that lingered, a thousand gears going in your head, likely a thousand more going off in his.

“I’m okay,” he said quietly as he pulled back a few inches. Your fingers carded through his hair and he smiled. “I’ll get the hang of this again. I promise.”

“That was more than enough for one night,” you said. “We said slow and we’ll go slow, okay?”

“Sounds good with me.”

Two Days Later

“Y/N, can I have a word with you in my office?” asked Jensen as you were picking up after dinner. You hummed and put the last fork in the dishwasher before following him down to a quieter part of the house. He shut the door behind you and he ran his hand over his face. “This is about work, my work, but it’s going to involve you. Heavily.”

“What’s up?” you asked, taking a seat in a chair. He sat in his by his desk, scrunching up his face.

“My job with that TV show, The Boys, it films in Canada. I’m gonna need to be up there four, maybe five months. The way things used to work with my wife was I would fly back home every weekend or every other weekend. I never went more than 2 weeks seeing the kids. I don’t have to film every day but it’s easier to stay there for the week. But it’s...it’s difficult for me. It’s difficult for them and...they lost one parent this year. I can’t stay away that long for months. I just can’t do it anymore.”

“That’s perfectly understandable,” you said.

“I’d like to temporarily move to Canada while I film. No flying back and forth. The kids can see me everyday and I can see them. JJ’s school still offers remote learning and I’m homeschool certified in a pinch. Twins can do daycare easy. The only issue I have is the same one I originally did. I still need a nanny. Only now in a different country...and it’s gonna be more late nights on the regular.”

“I see,” you said.

“This isn’t what you signed up for so if you don’t want it, that’s okay. I can find a nanny up there and we can try long distance and-” he said before you stood and walked in front of him.

“I’m in.”

“Really? I mean it’s gonna be awhile before we’re back in the states,” he said.

“It sounds like fun.”

“Awesome. I was really hoping you’d say that,” he said.

“So where are we going?” you asked.

“Toronto. Well, near there. I gotta start filming start of February but there’s promo stuff to do in late January,” he said.

“It’s already late January,” you laughed. “When do we have to move?”

“Uh, tomorrow,” he said. “Just got the call a few hours ago. I got a house to rent lined up already.”

“Oh wow. Alright. Uh, what do I need to do exactly?” you asked.

“Keep stuff normal. Don’t worry about cleaning or anything. Maybe box up anything you want to bring and some of the kids stuff. Toys, books, that stuff. I’ll handle their bags. We’ll ship it all up tomorrow and take a flight up at night,” he said.

“Okay, cool,” you said. “Wait I need like, a snow jacket right?”

“We’ll get you set up there with coat and boots and all that,” he said.

“Gotcha,” you said, starting to leave before you spun around and walked smack into his chest. “Wait. I have a lot more questions actually. Like...I don’t have a passport?”

“I know which is why tomorrow morning first thing you’re gonna go down to the post office, get your passport done up and when it comes in, we’ll get it shipped up to Canada,” he said.

“How do I get into Canada though?”

“We share a border with them so we bring your license and birth certificate, you can go right on in no problem,” he said.

“Oh. Okay,” you said. “Wait. I’ve never been on an airplane before. What-”

“Okay,” he laughed. “Take a hot second and breathe and we’ll go from there. I know it’s last minute but it’ll work out. I promise.”

“Y/N,” said Jensen, tapping your shoulder two days later. You hummed and reluctantly turned your head away from staring out the back sliding doors to the snow covered yard and trees around you. “Have you ever seen snow before?”

“No. Not like this,” you said, head going back to staring outside. “It’s something out of a movie.”

“You had that same look on your face when we took off last night in the plane.”

“What’s that?”

“Those little moments where the years fall off and you get that childish joy, like nothing bad has ever happened,” he said.

“I suppose there’s hope for me yet,” you said with a smile.

“Oh there was always that,” he chuckled. He threw an arm over your shoulders and you leaned into him. “Can I still take you out Friday?”

“Who’s gonna watch the kids?” you asked.

“My buddy.”

“Does he exist?” you said, grinning at him.

“Cute,” he said, ruffling your bedhead. “Yes he does exist. How’s Friday night sound?”

“Do I need a dress?” you asked.

“Probably. It’s a nice place,” he said. “My favorite place in Toronto actually. Jeans are perfectly acceptable there though.”

“I’ll pick out a dress today too,” you said. You kissed his cheek and watched them turn an ever so light pink. “You’re cute.”

“Shut up,” he chuckled. “Put your boots and coat on the card I gave you alright? That’s a business expense.”

“Whatever you say boss,” you said. “I’m gonna duck out before the little ones get up. I’ll try not to be gone too long.”

“Take your time. Drive slow in the snow until you get the hang of it, okay?”

“I will. I promise.”

“What the fuck’s the difference between therma heat and therma wear…” you mumbled to yourself, gawking at the glove rack at the store an hour later.

“I think it’s just marketing,” said the guy on the other side. You jumped and managed to knock about five pairs off the hangers. He laughed quietly and peeked his head around. “Didn’t mean to spoke ya.”

“It’s alright. I’m…” you said, the man smiling as you shook your head out. “Um...I…”

“You okay?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. You nodded and he smiled. “You sure cause you were just having a life crisis over gloves a second ago and now you can’t seem to form a sentence.”

“You’re Home…” you said, shutting your eyes. “You’re the actor that plays...I’m having a fucking day.”

“Looks like it,” he said, bending down and picking up some of the gloves. He laughed again and you got the ones closest to you, putting them back. “You know it’s like ten degrees outside right? Not exactly sneaker weather.”

“I know. This place looks pretty but it’s worse than a Texas summer almost with how cold it is.”

“I thought you sounded not from here,” he said with a smile. “I’m not from around here either. I do better with the heat myself.”

“Okay um, listen...uh, what’s your name, not Homelander?” you asked.

“Antony,” he chuckled again.

“I’m Y/N. I’m just gonna get the weird stuff out of the way cause…” you said as he smiled but stepped back a foot. “Yeah. Um I’m a fan but like...do you know Jensen Ackles?”

“Why?” he asked.

“He’s my boss...and my boyfriend but that’s another story. We might run into each other at some point, probably very likely. Just wanted to throw that out there.”

“Your boss?” he asked.

“I nanny his kids. I wouldn’t believe me if I were you either. I should go,” you said. You groaned when you were past him, hearing a pair of feet jog to catch up with you.

“I know you. You were on his instagram last week right? Yeah okay, that makes sense why a clueless Texas girl is stressing over gloves.”

“Excuse me?” He shook his head and smiled.

“Get a pair of thick gloves, thinner ones but not too thin, a warm hat, good boots for traction along with some boot spray and go with a longer hooded parka. It’ll be warmer. Throw in a few pairs of wool socks to be sure,” he said.

“Oh. Thank you,” you said. You looked back at the store and then to him. “There’s like five hundred coats in here.”

“How about you buy me a cup of coffee and I’ll help you out. Deal?”

“Why would you help me?” you asked.

“Well I’m gonna be working with Jensen quite a bit and he’s your boyfriend too apparently plus it’s just nice,” he said.

“You’re so not like your character.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment. We’ll be out of here in an hour tops.”

Antony turned out to be very helpful since apparently you had an uncanny ability to be attracted to the least warmth rated items in the whole store. But you had your parka and boots on now, other items tucked away in the bags as you browsed through a rack of black dresses at a different store.

“We dress shopping now?” said Antony, sipping on his coffee cup.

“Dude,” you said, jumping again. “You gotta learn to make noise.”

“It’s my natural stealth,” he said. “That one.”

“What?”

“That one,” he said, nodding to a dress on the wall.

“I can’t pull that one off,” you said.

“Try it. I’ll watch your stuff,” he said.

“You’re oddly nice,” you said. “To a stranger.”

“Well this beats my plans of walking around the mall buying crap I don’t need. Besides, I like you.”

“I have a boyfriend.”

“I’m taken,” he laughed. “Come on. Everybody needs a shopping buddy.”

“Okay but if you’re a weirdo Jensen will kick your ass,” you said, finding your size and taking it off the rack. “Just sayin’.”

“I like the guy more already,” he said. “It’s not like it’s your first date or anything.”

“...Second date.” He stared and looked away. “It’s…complicated.”

“I heard about...you know…the accident,” he said.

“Let him bring that up,” you said and he nodded. You took the dress into the changing room and smirked at the mirror. “Alright, maybe we give this one a shot.”

You changed back and found Antony on a bench outside.

“I should take you shopping more often,” you said. “You have good taste.”

“Sounds like a winner,” he said, handing you back your bags. “I gotta head out for work but it was nice meeting you, Y/N. I’m sure I’ll see you around very soon.”

“Me too. Thanks for the help today, really.”

“Not a problem at all. See ya later,” he said as he headed out. You gave him a wave and picked out a pair of black heels to go with the dress before you were heading home.

“Hey Jensen,” you said late that night. He’d had to go in for some photos in the afternoon and had taken quite a bit longer than he’d anticipated. “Leftovers are in the container on the top shelf.”

“Thanks, Y/N,” he said. He rubbed his eyes and padded into the kitchen before tossing the container in the microwave.

“Um, Jensen? Can I talk to you about work?” you asked. His ears perked up and he nodded while he looked around for a spoon. “Second drawer to the left.”

“Thanks,” he said. “So what’s up? Something wrong?”

“Not exactly. I was thinking earlier though about a backup plan,” you said. He took out the container and grabbed his spoon sitting across from you at the table.

“What’s a backup plan?” he asked, shoveling a spoonful of too hot pasta into his mouth.

“Well down in Austin, say I was suddenly unable to perform my job duties cause I’m sick or hurt or I’m off on vacation or whatever. Down there I have a network of other nannies that could step in temporarily, they can do a pick up or drop off in a bind, that sort of thing. It’s kind of a support group in way. It’s good for me and for you.”

“They must have one of those things up here?” he asked, taking a slower bite this time. You spun your computer around and he nodded. “Tornanny. That’s cute. You gotta sign up or something?”

“I need to take a four hour class. They have one on Saturday morning. Is it okay if I sign up?” you asked. He chuckled and took another bite of food.

“Weekends are still yours to do as you please. I need a bit more help during weeknights or mornings but weekends are still yours. I’m also compensating your pay for the additional time and no you’re not winning that argument so don’t even try.”

“Okay. I’m gonna sign up,” you said, turning the computer back.

“What was that thing on the side?” he asked.

“Hm?” you said as you started filling in the form.

“Some happy hour thing on the side,” he said. You flicked your eyes over to the side of the page and saw the group posting. “That could be fun.”

“Do I look like the kind of person that goes to happy hours?” you said.

“Well maybe you could meet a nanny friend in this group, one you could maybe get to cover for you if you ever needed it. I did steal you away from everything you know to a different country with a days notice after all. I’d go with you if you want,” he said.

“What about the kids?”

“Hm?”

“Jensen. I’m starting to see a fatal flaw in me being the nanny and us dating. I’m the person that should be watching the kids when you go out,” you said.

“Hm,” he said, eating for a few moments. “You do have a point. I think we need to renegotiate your contract.”

“Wait you’re firing me?” you said, Jensen shaking his head and laughing. “Okay cause you were about to lose a girlfriend for a second there.”

He smiled to himself and looked down, playing with his dinner.

“So what are you talking about?” you asked.

“Well, girlfriend,” he chuckled. “How about this? Weekends you don’t work, at all, for any reason. If you watch the kids for an hour while I duck to the store, it’s cause you’re doing it cause of us, not as part of your job. If we want to go out or on a date on the weekend, we’ll get a sitter. I had a go to in Vancouver when I lived there. I’ll give her a call, see if she knows anyone out here that would work. That sound good?”

“I guess that’s alright,” you said. He raised and eyebrow and you shrugged. “I enjoy our alone time, don’t get me wrong. I don’t want to take away from them though.”

“I appreciate the sentiment but I’m not saying…” he said before he trailed off and ate the last bites of his food. “I moved us so they could see me everyday which is far more than they ever did when I filmed my show. I will still make them breakfast. I will still put them to bed. I will still have lunch with them and play with them and all of it. They’ll always by my first priority. But a relationship with kids doesn’t always mean the kids are around. Sometimes they come with, sometimes they stay home. I’m not talking about ditching them for days on end. A few hours on a Saturday night, most of which they’ll be in bed asleep is all I’m talking about. We have a right to a little bit of time for ourselves. It’s not as easy with them than it was the first time around but we just have to try harder is all.”

“Okay,” you said. “I’m good with that. How was your first day?”

“Good. We did a lot of promotional stuff. I won’t start acting until next week. I heard you met Antony shopping today.”

“Yeah. I didn’t get a chance to tell you when I got home earlier. He seems like a nice guy.”

“He does. He invited us to dinner once we settle into a routine,” he said. “Apparently you two are shopping buddies now.”

“The man does know how to choose a dress.”

“Good thing I packed my lucky suit up here,” he said.

“Speaking of suits...you wouldn’t happen to have any of you in your Soldier Boy suit from today?”

“No spoilers,” he said with a smirk. You jutted out your lip and he rolled his eyes, taking out his phone. He tapped and slid it over to you, your eyes wide. You must have stared for a solid minute before you looked over at him, Jensen leaned back in his chair with his hands behind his head and a huge grin on his face. “You think I’m hot, don’t you.”

“Pft, no,” you said, biting your bottom lip before you licked it. He was still grinning out of the corner of your eye and you gave him the phone back. “Maybe...you’re kinda hot. But it’s totally the suit. Like right now, ugh, horrendous.”

“Nah, I’m hot,” he said, sticking out his stomach and rubbing it.

“I’m impressed you can actually do that,” you said.

“Everybody’s got a tummy,” he said. “Seriously though, you think the suit is cool?”

“It looks awesome. I’d love to see it in person,” you said.

“Oh you guys will be on set at some point,” he said. “I’m kinda nervous about next week.”

“Really? Why? You’re a great actor.”

“Have you ever seen a single thing I’ve done,” he chuckled.

“I did in fact see that horror movie on a date years ago. Something with like mining?” you asked.

“That’s what you saw? Like that movie? I hope the date worked out at least,” he said with a big smirk.

“Actually it was the crappy ex,” you said.

“Oh. You guys must have dated for a long time then.”

“Since we were seventeen,” you said. He stared and you shrugged. “I kept waiting for him to grow up and change. Eventually I realized he never would.”

“Did you love him?”

“I loved the idea of him. I liked him. I was with him for close to 12 years so I obviously liked him. But it wasn’t love. I could never be myself all the way around him and that’s not a way to live. There was none of that feeling when you first meet someone, you know?”

“Would I be pushing to ask if you ever thought about marrying the guy?”

“He did propose actually. A few times,” you said. “I turned him down. Things really went downhill from there though.”

“Why’d you say no?”

“I didn’t want to marry someone that made me feel bad about being me. Got tired of him telling me to get over everything that happened as a kid, dress a certain way, should I really have dessert, that kind of crap.”

“It’s part of who you are. I wouldn’t exactly call your past something to get over,” said Jensen. “Why would he even make you feel bad about it? You’re so normal.”

“I don’t think his daddy hugged him enough,” you said.

“No need to be a dick to other people for it,” he said. You smiled as you finished filling out the rest of the form for the class before sending it off. “Hey on the plus side I did get a good recommendation for daycare today. I was gonna check it out tomorrow morning, maybe get the twins in next week. Apparently they’re also hooked up with a school so JJ can go to school with some other American kids too instead of being stuck behind a screen here all day.”

“That’s great news. She can make some new friends that way. You know I was thinking maybe she could get signed up for indoor soccer. When I played the new season normally started right at the beginning of February.”

“Is it safe?” he asked. “I thought that could get pretty dangerous.”

“Adult leagues can be but kids her age it’s just running back and forth mostly. She could make some new friends, give her something fun to look forward to.”

“It’s not a bad idea. I would like her to be involved in something since she’s out of dance and soccer back home right now. I’ll talk it over with her in the morning,” he said. “She say something to you about it?”

“No. I just know what it’s like to be the new kid,” you said. “Soccer helped me make friends at school.”

“You and your mom move after your dad passed?” he asked.

“Uh, yeah. I was little so I don’t remember so much,” you said, an email coming in that your spot in the class was reserved. “Alright. Looks like I’m all set for eight on Saturday.”

“I’ll try not to keep you out too late on Friday night then,” he said.

“I never said that.”

“I like flirty you,” he said, both of you looking up at the ceiling when you heard a loud pair of giggles. “Duty calls. Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight Jensen.”

________

A/N: Read Part 5 here!

#spn #supernatural #Jensen x reader #jensen ackles #jensen ackles au #rpf #jensen series #rpf series #jensen ackles x reader #spn fanfic #jensen fanfic #jensen ackles fanfic #supernatural fanfic

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akaashisupremacy · 4 years ago

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Brimming with Hope

Summary: Having broken off your engagement for an arranged marriage with Gojo, your relationship is in shreds. As you two give your relationship a second chance, what does hope look like to two disillusioned lovers?

Gojo Satoru x reader

Multi-fandom Masterlist || HQ Masterlist || Ao3 version

Genre: fluff, angst, exes to friends to lovers (wc: 1.5k)

“I don’t think they’ve fully made up their mind about me.” Gojo Satoru confesses to Nanami Kento.

In between assignments and his students, Gojo finds Nanami at Tokyo Jujutsu Tech’s grounds. They’re strolling along one of the many wooden hallways when Gojo opens up about you, his ex-fiancee and his current lover.

“What makes you say that?” Nanami rarely involved himself in other people’s romantic entanglements. Too much work really.

Gojo shrugs and sighs, “It’s like their affection is platonic. They care about me as a person, but I’m not sure if they have romantic feelings for me.”

The latest development of his relationship with you has been nothing short of daunting. Your relationship, albeit not exclusive was running past the six month mark. The longer he stayed around you the more pressure he felt. Commitment is not his thing. Dating his ex is also not his thing. But you certainly are.

“Can you blame them?” Nanami snorts, “How does it feel to be at the other end of the uncertainty?”

Gojo scowls in silence, hands pressed deep into his pocket.

“Well if they’re going out with you and stuff, then that’s not platonic.” Nanami offers. “Just make sure you’re not just fucking around again. Some people deserve better, Gojo. Leave them alone if you can’t get your shit together.”

Gojo stops walking. Nanami’s words are harsh and cold, voicing Gojo’s ultimate fear about himself.

Gojo opens his mouth and closes it shut. Nanami raises a brow. He senses some hesitation.

“Everything we do feels more intimate. I’ve been with other people, but this feels so…so….deep.” he murmurs.

Nanami turns around and snorts, “It’s the feelings. You’ve caught feelings.”

“This relationship feels so temporary...just when I feel like I’ve settled in, I’m to be up on my toes knowing this isn’t going to last. I realized they eventually want a family, but not with me. Because that’s just not me. It feels like there’s a time bomb waiting to go off.” Gojo continues, his tone silent and mournful.

More than anyone, Gojo knows you deep desire to be married and have a quiet family life. It's something he doesn't want and it pains him to know that you'll eventually go your separate ways.

Nanami breathes out, waiting for Gojo to catch up with a few long strides, “You can’t have everything.”

“I don’t need everything. Just the things that count.” Gojo replies, walking by Nanami’s side.

“Then you have to look for a happy middle, for you and for them.” Nanami shrugs.

Gojo scratches his head. What can he do?

————————————————————————————— You walk out of the morgue to leave Ieri to her work. As you step out, you come face to face with Nanami, who looks surprised that you’re here.

“Didn’t expect you to be around Ieri’s lair.” he comments.

“I didn’t expect to have a casualty either.” you shrug, waving around a file.

You hardly ever see Nanami after graduating. The school grounds were big. Your schedules never line up. Neither of you were particularly close.

He silently looks around if Ieri is behind you.

“So you and Gojo…” he trails.

You roll your eyes and cross your arms, “Not you too! You know what, instead of asking me, you should ask Gojo and his commitment issues, for updates.”

Your voice rings louder on the empty walls than you intended.

“I did.” he replies.

“And?”

“Commitment issues with a capital “C” indeed.” Nanami states, as if the fact was self-evident. What’s new? You sniff.

“It’s unusual to see him so conflicted about you. You used to be his rock.” he adds.

Your eyes narrow, as if asking for more information. You were never really sure how Gojo felt about you when you two were younger. He seemed attracted during your brief arranged engagement, but his attention obviously flitted elsewhere after that.

Nanami relents, “When we were freshmen, you reminded him of home. He pretends not to be homesick all the time. He’s not very good at hiding it when he talks about you.”

“Well, that feeling didn’t last, did it?” you murmur just loud enough for Nanami to hear.

The outside of the morgue has always been a little dark. You wished the lights were dimmer because you know Nanami is observing you.

“Not to defend him, but he was so wrapped in you and your engagement that he needed to find who he was outside of that. He likes attention, too. Can’t deny that. But his affections were sincere for a time.” he says, “I don’t know where his feelings stand right now. This isn’t to give you false hope, but he can be in love, even though it’s against his greater instincts and experience.”

He bows briefly to excuse himself. He needs to head in.

“But you already know that deep down. Out of all of us, you know him the longest, and I would argue, the best.” he adds.

You're left outside stunned by his words. Out of all his surviving friends, you assumed it was Nanami who knew him better than everyone else. It was you. You knew him best, even when Gojo wasn't by your side.

You smile a bit. There are some bonds broken romances can't break.

———————————————————— On a train home from your assignment, you find the bullet train crowded as usual. Rush hour is the bane of your existence in Tokyo.

As you try to find an empty seat, you’re surprised to find Gojo opening some sort of regional snack (again).

“How is it that you have so much time for souvenir shopping?” you groan in comment.

“It’s nice to see you, too.” he offers the seat next to his.

You plop down beside him, distracted. You think back to what Nanami said earlier. What was it that Nanami said? That you were Gojo’s rock? What did that mean really?

He tries to offer you some food. You wave him off dismissively. After gathering your thoughts, you decisively turn to him.

“I just want to know,” you swallow, “How did you feel about me when we were kids.”

With his mouth ajar, he blinks. Where was this coming from?

“Why?” he instinctively asks.

You purse your lips, “I’ve been meaning to ask for the longest while. I want to know your answer.”

He leans back into his seat and puts his food down in concentration.

“I thought I knew what love was and it came in the form of you. It’s kind of dumb. What would a teenager know about that kind of stuff?” he shrugs, “I liked the idea that you liked me. You were someone who supported me. You were there for me. You were generous with your time and affection.

“Looking back it’s just infatuation, isn’t it?" he asks rhetorically.

“You sounded naive.” you say, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

He chuckles, “Who wouldn’t be at that age?”

“And sincere.” you followed up with a smile.

Gojo turns away from you. He sees glimpses of your early teenage years when he sees that smile. It was the smile you wore when he visited you at your clan’s home and helped out with your chores. You liked it when he would carry the firewood you gathered from the forest.

“...you made me feel so grown up, like I had my life together. Not everyone liked who they were engaged to, but I really liked you and you had believed in me so much.” he murmurs, “I felt so lucky to be able to marry you one day. I was literally brimming with hope. But that was 13 years ago.”

You both get off the train. The crowded station greets you both. Although you walk side by side, it is too easy for the crowd to sweep you away. You hold onto his sleeve. He doesn't notice.

You try to say goodbye when you make it out, but he seems distracted. You begin to walk away.

“You’re not saying goodbye?” he asks, startled.

“I did, but you didn’t mind me.” you smirk with your arms crossed.

“Sorry. There’s a lot going on in my mind.” he nods, walking up beside you.

He leans in to plant a kiss on your cheek. You pull away.

“We’re in public,” you remind him. Gojo isn’t public with you on anything.

He kisses you anyway, pressing his lips on your cheek. You’re surprised but not unpleasantly so. His kiss is long and lingering. You embrace him with your arms around his waist. You briefly close your eyes to drown out the noise of the station.

Gojo can feel his heart racing a thousand kilometers per second. His shoulders relax. It's strangely freeing to be able to kiss you in public.

He knows he’s not into commitment, but whenever he sees you, he questions myself.

“I have to go now.” you bid softly.

I love you. He holds back. He waves carefully to not let his words escape his mouth. He’s not fifteen anymore. He should know better.

Gojo begins walking back to Jujutsu Tech. Being able to kiss you goodbye made him feel so grown up, like he has his life together more than he actually does. It makes him feel, once again, that he is brimming with hope.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I wrote this as a follow up for another Gojo x reader fic who used to be engaged. Check out the other parts!

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6 || Part 7 || Part 8

Comment or message to be added to the taglist! Or write down some comments about your feelsssss

Series Taglist: @tokyo-love-hotel@samkysnks@herownescape@cherrianne192@shamelessdonutsludgebanana@kageyamakock@shirostrbl@luvang3l@cloudsinthecosmos@httpjungoo @saturnki @itstheee-ha-chan@gucci-froggy @soy1melk @dora-the-grownup @cherryonigiri @fiona782

If you’d like to continue being part of my taglist (JJK or Haikyuu), please let me know! I also write oneshots for both fandoms and soon I’ll be doing BSD too!

#gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x gender neutral reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo angst #gojo scenario #jjk x gender neutral reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x y/n #satoru gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen scenarios

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tenthgrove · 4 years ago

Note

Hello, can I request La Squadra members falling in love for a civilian they see constantly? ex: the waitress from a restaurant they frequent, the owner of their favorite bakery. I hope my request is understandable, my english is basic.

La Squadra Falling for a Civilian

La Squadra x Reader (GN), Romantic, SFW

Formaggio- Formaggio is less guarded with his trust than an assassin perhaps should be. A fellow commuter on the bus or train, a reveler at the nightclub, just anyone he passes on the street really, are all people he would happily chat to if given the opportunity. He already has several friends who are civilians, and it's only a matter of time before one of them finds their way into his heart. Formaggio doesn't think about the possible consequences of having a civilian lover as much as he probably ought to, though sometimes late at night, unwelcome possibilities do occur to him. He'll be honest with you about his work, since he couldn't stand to be with you otherwise. He trusts you to keep a secret. If the rest of the team discovers your affair, Formaggio will defend your relationship with all his might, convincing them through sheer insistence that the two of you can be trusted not to let this be used against you. And for the most part, it isn't. Your relationship is uncannily normal, with plenty of dates and nights-in where the two of you can be together without the outside world having any say. There is one condition to all this, naturally. You have to take care of his cats while he's away on work. He never trusted any of the others to do it.

Illuso- Perhaps unsurprisingly, Illuso never really considered himself a relationship guy. Casual flings are a dime a dozen, but until recently it wouldn't have bothered him at all to hear he would never find love. Perhaps it was the fact you were a civilian that changed this. Spending so long around criminals had warped him, made him forget how to see the good in people and in himself. You had never known any of that life. You reminded him who he used to be. You mean the world to Illuso and he will protect you at all costs. He urges you to report any strange occurrences to him, stalkers, people asking intrusive questions, anything of the sort. The thought of someone finding out about you terrifies him, and it's that very anxiety that innevitably leads La Squadra to investigate. The first time Illuso ever shows tears to anyone in his squad, is when Risotto informs him he won't be stopping you from seeing each other. Illuso goes home to you that night and holds you close. He does something he hasn't in a long, long time. He talks about the future.

Prosciutto- Growing up, Prosciutto could never envision himself without a spouse. Children, either, if they were at all willing to have them. But once fate had brought him to Passione, he made a strict policy: no friends, no confidantes, and most certainly, no lovers outside of Passione. How quickly that went away when he met you! It was like the very fantasy of his future love had burst into reality just to greet him. He seized his moment, invited you to meet with him again, and soon after that you were lovers. For the longest time, he lies to you about his profession. Psychiatry, he claims, for the sake of an excuse not to tell you about the day-to-day details. But he thinks about the difference between his life and yours every day. He thinks a lot about how its going to be possible to settle down with you. The only thing he knows for certain, is that no matter what happens, he's going to make it possible. Only two of his colleagues know about the relationship- Pesci, as informed in a drunken, guilt-ridden confession, and Risotto, told shortly after in a private meeting with the both of you present. Risotto sighed, patted Prosciutto on the shoulder and told him he respected him, both an assassin as a friend. Though he urges you both to be cautious, he trusts you to do so. He wishes you all the best for whatever may come.

Pesci- If there's one thing Prosciutto considered fortunate about Pesci's faint-hearted personality, it was that he could not ever envision his brother chasing after pretty people when he had his back turned. Simply, Prosciutto hadn't considered someone like you coming along. A person so gentle and amicable, even Pesci would force his anxieties aside and confess his feelings to you. Pesci doesn't realise it, but he's the perfect lover- supportive and understanding, while equally ready to jump to defend you when the time calls for it. You discover fairly early on what he really does, since Pesci could never live with himself for lying, but you can tell in his eyes it doesn't reflect the real thing. It doesn't change how you feel for him. And as for the rest of the squad, Pesci is one of the few who is honest from the start. Before your first date, he goes to Prosciutto and asks for advice. Annoyed as he is that this has happened, Prosciutto realizes how good this could be for Pesci and his development. It's clear Prosciutto's own methods of installing some confidence into the boy haven't worked. Perhaps you'll have better luck.

Melone- With his primary function in the operation of his stand being to analyze people, it's only a matter of time before he finds himself developing a more long-term attachment to one of them. It doesn't matter if you were actually chosen to host his stand, or even if you were eligible. Melone is struck at once by your compatibility and eagerly starts a conversation. He charms you into accepting his number, and a Passionate romance begins shortly after. Melone hints to you that his true occupation may be outside the law, but for at least the first year he says nothing more about it, and convinces you not to care. Melone is an observant and entertaining partner. While he is not particularly fond of dates, nights indoors with him are always a pleasure. La Squadra rarely likes to pry in Melone's business, so the chances of them finding out about you early on are low. When it does happen, Melone tells them of you of his own free will in the hope you might become friends with some of them. The assassins are so chuffed with the innocent, strange specter of Melone's lover, they cannot help but let his secrecy slide.

Ghiaccio- It might be hard for an outsider to see Ghiaccio as the romantic sort, but deep down, a soulmate has always been his dream. Perhaps it's not the spectacle of romance himself but companionship, a person who understands and accepts him in the way nobody else can. Someone to spend his life with. Meeting you was an accident. He was fleeing from a hit by foot as the police approaches, when he carelessly bashed into you on the street. Despite his rude introduction you invited him into your nearby home and, realizing it was his best hope of escape, he agreed. Now that you are lovers, Ghiaccio dreams of nothing more than your warm embrace. He loves you unconditionally, and worries for you every day. When La Squadra discovers your affair, he's less in trouble for having a secret lover than for tackling whoever it was who spilled the secret to the ground. Now that the pair of you have Risotto's blessing, however, Ghiaccio is far less anxious about being with you. There's talk of you moving in together, so Ghiaccio can have his wish and hold you every night from now on.

Risotto- A lover in any context was never really on the agenda for Risotto, let alone one from such an innocuous background. Letting himself get close to you could only happen in extreme circumstances, most likely you finding him injured after a mission and treating his wounds, without the faintest clue where he got them from. Risotto didn't mean to get attached, but after that day he couldn't help but revisit you. Soon, you were meeting in secret as lovers. He does not dare be seen in public with you, but the nights you have inside together always leave your heart fluttering at the smallest smile. Still, Risotto worries about you constantly. A lover could easily be used against him, and he could never forgive himself for any harm done to you. Yet, he knows he could never bring himself to cut contact with you. The solution, he decides, is to ask you to move in with him and the squad. It will be strange, he knows, to have a civilian live amongst assassins, but it's the best way to protect you, and he trusts his men more than anyone.

Sorbet and Gelato- Having been together since the start of their adulthood, Sorbet and Gelato never anticipated a third person joining their relationship. Still, it was an unspoken truth between them that should the right person come along, they would be okay with it. They met you while they were undercover for a mission, at the end of which they pulled you aside and told them who they really were. Unlike most others they don't hold back on telling you the details of their crimes, but if you didn't run away on day one you're probably alright with that sort of thing. Despite how callous and brutal they are to most, Sorbet and Gelato treat you with the upmost sweetness. It's rare they get to show their kinder sides outside the team. On the topic of the team, they make no effort to hide their relationship with you. Nobody dares disrespect them enough to question it. It's true that your relationship with the pair may expose you to quite some danger, but don't fear. Sorbet and Gelato will protect you with all their souls.

#la squadra #la squadra di esecuzione #la squadra x reader #formaggio #formaggio x reader #illuso #illuso x reader #prosciutto #prosciutto x reader #pesci #pesci x reader #melone #melone x reader #ghiaccio #ghiaccio x reader #risotto nero #risotto nero x reader #sorbet and gelato #sorbet and gelato x reader

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plume-pigmented-pili · 4 years ago

Text

Hey hey! here’s a little something I wrote for Eli a few months ago. They convinced me i should post it, so here i am lol

———

Tw: Descriptions of a Cold, sickness (non graphic), feelings unwanted, coughing, headaches, misunderstandings, hurt/comfort. Let me know if I need to add more!

Words: 5.2k

Pairing: Prinxiety (Written as Romantic but could be read as platonic i guess)

“Virgil is miserable. Its the middle of the night, and Virgil is stuck in bed, unable to sleep, with a horrible cold. The actual cold isn’t why he’s miserable, though.

Is it selfish to want to be cared for?”

—

Through Sickness and Health

Virgil could hear the clock on the opposite wall ticking just a tad too fast, and didn’t need to even look over at it to know it was way too late to be awake. Sure, he didn’t have the best sleep schedule, but at least he was usually enjoying himself when he stayed up, and it was rarely this late. It wasn’t even his fault this time.

But here Virgil was, laying in bed curled under all the blankets he owned, wishing he was dead. On paper, that sounds a lot worse than it really was, but who could blame him? The sweet release of death sounded like heaven compared to suffering here any longer. His throat was sandpaper dry, nose clogged with snot, and what felt like a small bomb went off in his skull with every movement.

That, though, wasn’t the main reason he was suffering.

He’d been sick before, he knew it would be over soon, but no physical pain could compare to the hurt he felt, knowing that the others knew of his illness, and didn’t give a single damn.

There was no way they didn’t know what was happening - even if he’d tried to hide it, which he hadn’t, it’s not like acting was ever his specialty - but not a single one of them had batted an eye since he came down with this stress induced cold.

Well, that wasn’t completely true. Patton had asked if he was feeling alright on day two, when Virgil had shuffled downstairs around three in the afternoon to grab a snack, hoodie flipped up as he dug around, his hands clearly shaky from fever yet he’d been too tired to try and hide it. He’d told Patton, in the least shaky voice he could muster, that he just wasn’t feeling very well.

In hindsight, it had probably been incredibly selfish of him to expect Patton to come to his aid and comfort him, maybe offer to tuck him in on the couch and make him something healthy to eat. He’d seen Patton do just that plus more when Logan or Roman were feeling under the weather after all. But despite knowing it was selfish, he couldn’t help the disappointment and sinking feeling he’d felt when Patton had simply responded with a gentle, almost pitying, “I’m sorry kiddo, thank you for telling me.” before walking away rather hurriedly, leaving it there.

The conversation rolled around in his head, as it had been for the past 5 days. Nobody had come to check on him, not even the resident fatherly side to see if he was feeling any better. He’d been downstairs one other time since that little exchange with Patton, but when he’d walked in on Roman and Logan talking casually in the living room, they’d both given him short, obviously forced smiles, and sunk out. That’d been on day three, and Virgil hadn’t gone back down there since. He wasn’t that hungry anyway.

Maybe they didn’t want to get sick? Or maybe they thought he was gross, and didn’t want to be near him. Did they think he would be rude to them?

All this thinking was making Virgil’s head hurt more. And it really didn’t matter the reason. They didn’t care, they clearly wanted to avoid him.

It hurt, worse than his actual sickness, having to stay away from everyone for days on end. It reminded him of the old days before he was accepted, when he wasn’t welcome anywhere else but the confinement of his room. He missed Patton’s warm greeting each time he walked into a room, or the rants Logan would get lost in that were strangely so calming. Most notably, though, he missed Roman.

He missed their stupid banter that always left him feeling more confident, and the never ending singing that Virgil pretended not to adore. Hell, he missed just talking to the creative side. He’d give anything just to have a conversation with him, just to lift his spirits a little. He longed for one of the warm, solid hugs that only Roman could give.

He would probably even give up his Disney posters, his entire MCR song library, or get banned from every Hot Topic in the country, just to be held and cuddled right at this moment. To be held in warm, secure arms, wrapped in the scent of cinnamon and roses, and drift to sleep knowing he wouldn’t be alone in the morning.

That last one had about a zero percent chance of happening, even if he wasn’t sick and contagious, but Virgil’s sleep deprived, fever ridden brain had decided to be sentimental, and Virgil couldn’t even stop it. At least he wasn’t gone enough to consider asking for any of that comfort he craved. it’d be easier for everyone to just wait in his room until he was better. Then maybe things would be normal again.

And that was his plan, until someone knocked on his door.

The anxious side’s gaze shot over to the clock, grimacing when the quick movement made his eyeballs throb. Who the Hell was knocking on his door at nearly 3:45 in the morning?

“Who-“ Virgil cringed at how his gravely voice broke, cleared his throat, then tried again. “Who is it?”

“I knew you were awake!” Romans voice, surprisingly enough, came from the other side of the door. He was clearly trying to stay quiet, but for some reason, he sounded really… relieved, and chipper. A second later, the Prince added a bit more bashfully, “Uh, unless i just woke you up by knocking, and if that’s the case I sincerely apologize, I didn’t mea-“

“No, I w’s already awake…” Virgil interrupted with a slight slur, groggy brain trying to keep up with what was happening. Being the embodiment of Anxiety, though, meant he didn’t get to stop being anxious just because he was sick. Why was he here? Was he angry? Virgil couldn’t recall doing anything that could offend anyone since he’d been self-quarantined, but then again, he couldn’t really remember his last name at the moment either. He mumbled to himself as he untangled his legs from the covers, cursing the universe under his breath because his head felt two times it’s normal size. Then he took a deep breath and sat up. He didn’t want to make Roman uncomfortable or grossed out seeing him all sick in bed, cause holy shit would that be embarrassing. He still didn’t look great, but it was a small step. “Come in Pr’ncey.”

The door swung open, revealing a timid, bed headed Roman, who seemed to relax a little when noticing Virgil sitting up in bed. “Hey there.. sorry to barge in, I hope i’m not bothering you.” he said, voice still lowered and really quite gentle as he shut the door behind him.

Virgil went to shake his head, but stopped himself before he could cause himself fucking brain damage and just shrugged instead. “ y’re not both’ring me. ‘sup?” yikes, all this sitting up and trying to look presentable business was making him realize how exhausted he was. His eyelids felt heavy already.

Roman took a few steps forward, keeping his eyes steadily on Virgil like he was waiting for him to keel over and die, or cough on him. It seemed pretty damn dramatic, even for Roman. “I… just wanted to check on you. I’ve uh, been a little worried about you, and i couldn’t sleep.” The Prince said, hesitant as he lowered himself on the foot of the bed.

Virgil blinked a few times, curling his legs up so his knees were to his chest to make sure Roman wouldn’t touch his feet under the 5 layers of blankets he had over him. Or maybe it was the sudden, treacherous hope that was rising in him, a hope he was trying to stifle. Roman was… worried about him? Roman of all sides? I mean, he wasn’t surprised that he cared, he and Roman were friends now after all. Virgil was just surprised he cared about this. He thought they were all in agreement to avoid him or something.

Virgil was about to open his mouth and say… something - he didn’t really know what he was going to say. It felt like his train of thought was chugging along through molasses - but he was interrupted before he could get any words out.

“Dude… no offense, but you look like actual death. And why in the name of Hades are you buried under so many blankets?” The Prince asked with what sounded like genuine confusion, at least for the second part.

Virgil huffed and pulled the blankets tighter around him, the movement causing him to shiver. He couldn’t decide what to focus on; The cold air on his back, the rising sensation of relief knowing Roman cared, or how weird that question had been. Quite honestly, Virgil wasn’t offended because he knew he looked like shit. he was just a little confused. He thought Roman would have known he’d look like shit. “What do you mean why do I have so many blankets. I literally feel like ’m freezing to death. ’s part of the package, shouldn’t you know this?” He practically deadpanned, not even for the snarkiness like usual. His speech was just dull.

But that only left Roman looking more confused, and probably a good deal more concerned if his expression was anything to go by. “I-... I didn’t know that, no.. I’m sorry. Do you want another blanket or something…?” he asked carefully, still awfully and almost painfully cautious.

And Virgil… was at a loss for how this could possibly be new information to Roman. it was pretty common knowledge even if you’ve never had a fever before. But instead of dwelling, Virgil once again stopped himself from shaking his head, sighing instead. “No, it won’ help.” he said shortly. The effort would be futile, but it was endearing that Roman at least asked. “Thanks though. That’s.. really nice of you t’ offer.” The anxious side offered a bit more quietly.

There was an awkward silence that followed, Roman shuffling his feet against the carpet slightly as he looked around the room. Virgil saw the other’s eyes catch on the pile of used tissues in the floor, another bout of confusion flashing in his bright green eyes, but he didn’t mention it this time. Maybe it was a lack of sleep making the Prince act so clueless at the moment. “I… I guess i’ve just.. i don’t know, everything is more boring without you around. Nobody to insult without actually offending them.” Roman spoke again after a moment, sending a half smile in Virgil’s direction.

A little smirk matched with a snort is what the Prince was rewarded with, Virgil's spirits lifted regardless of his misery. It felt nice knowing he was missed, and it made his chest warm knowing it was coming from Roman. For some reason, knowing he could make things more bearable for his counterpart was.. rewarding, in a way. And Roman looked proud of himself, before he continued a bit more solemnly. “You’ve been cooped up in here for so long, like what, 5 says now?”

That got Virgil to sigh, and maybe there was some defensiveness laying beneath the surface, made worse thanks to being miserable, but all he managed was a mildly annoyed side eye to Roman as he responded in a mumble, still doing his best not to run Roman off. “‘t’s not my fault.”

Roman was quick to shake his head, slight guilt in his expression. “I know! I-I’m not trying to make you feel bad, i guess i just- i don’t know, i’m just talking out loud… sorry.” Roman’s voice had quieted, eyes trained on the floor somewhat shamefully as he seemed to search for his words. “I just.. I just wish…” but once again, he trailed off, shaking his head and seeming to give up. “I’m sorry.”

“‘s fine, Princey.” Virgil mumbled back, eyes dropping to his lap where he picked at a loose string on his bedspread. Another silence followed, Virgil trying to sniffle as silently as he could. Despite how weird this interaction had been so far, and how slightly awkward it’s gotten, Virgil was honestly just trying to soak in the mere presence of another side while it lasted. He’d never liked being alone for so long. His stomach was starting to hurt for a reason aside from sickness. This sure was a good way to get Roman to leave early, the others were probably right for leaving him alone so far.

Suddenly, Virgil squeezed the blankets in his fist to try and stop a sudden tickle in his throat, the sensation coming out of nowhere. Unfortunately though, his instincts won out just seconds later as he was forced to cough, the sound gargled and gross even when he covered the whole bottom half of his face with his covers. Dammit, dammit, stupid fucking cough. And Roman just got there too. He wasn’t ready for the creative side to leave again yet.

“S- Sorry, sorry ‘bout that. Shit.” He mumbled rather quickly, hoping to by just a few minutes longer of the creative side’s company before it was taken away again for who knows how long. His head felt like it was being split open, no thanks to the effort it took to cough. Who the Hell’s idea was sickness? They should be fired.

Much to his surprise though, when Virgil hesitantly looked up to gauge how put off Roman was by his display, he only saw an overwhelming about of worry, but even more importantly, alarm.

“Apologies, but is this like- normal??” Roman asked with eyes noticeably wider, studying Virgil's pained expression, hunched over posture, the mess of dirty tissues around, and the way the bright numbers of his digital clock on his nightstand was covered carefully, with a washcloth no doubt.

Virgil drew in a deep, slow breath through his nose as he rubbed on his temples to try and alleviate some pain, eyes closed and head tilted down. Roman’s ridiculous questions were just making his headache worse, and honestly he didn’t even understand how the Hell he was so confused. Was this his plan? To come in here and confuse Virgil and his already incapacitated brain? ‘Cause if so, he was doing a brilliant job. “Roman, what the hell are you talking about.”

It came out less like a question, more like a very tired statement, but he was answered with confused stammering, Roman gesturing almost desperately to Virgil and his state. “What do you mean what am I talking about?? Dude, you’re clearly not doing well. I mean, I wasn’t gonna bring it up, but you’re sweating like a sinner in church, you’re covered in a thousand blankets, you were just hacking up a lung and you’re barely able to speak right from, what i’m assuming, is a nose full of mucus!”

“Yeah, okay, I get it. I look like shit, Pr’ncey, enough said.” Virgil snapped, glaring up at Roman and accidentally moving his head up to look at him too fast, sending a flare of agony through his skull. He cursed under his breath and winced, but powered through it even as Roman lifted a hand to- to what, help? It didn’t matter, Virgil moved away from the effort. “No, don’t touch me, alright? I don’t wan’ your pity.”

Virgil knew all of this was coming out more aggressive than he ever would allow if he was feeling himself. Hell, even now he was begging himself to just shut up and stay calm. But after almost 2 full days with no sleep, and 5 days of nonstop pain, coughing, being unable to breath properly, the feeling of fire in his throat every time he tried to eat, and then on top of that, being shunned by the 3 people he wanted- needed, more than anything. Well, he really couldn’t stop his composure from cracking and shattering.

Roman looked ready to respond, seemingly struck with more pity than before, but Virgil’s hand shot up to stop him. “I don’t want to hear it, Princey. Why the Hell are you even here anyway? If you’ve missed me so much, why did you wait 5 f’cking days to come see me? T’ come ‘check on me’? And, by th’ way, so far you’ve really only been fucking with me and making me feel worse, so in reality it probably would ‘ve been better had you just kept up your streak of avoiding me like ev’ryone else!”

Virgil was breathing heavily, head pounding and lungs burning after raising his voice just a bit too much at the end of his rant. He replayed the words back in his mind, heart sinking when he realized how aggressive he’d gotten. He couldn’t slow down his breathing, why couldn’t he slow his breathing?? Jesus christ, he wasn’t about to break down on top of all that other shit he just unleashed. Perfect, he was just proving the other side’s point for them.

With his body now starting to shake, jaw clenched to hold back tears because this week has been bullshit, and he felt like curling up and disappearing, if not to escape his aching body then to at least escape the anger he knew would result from that whole verbal meltdown he just had. Obviously Roman would be leaving, but would he yell first? Tell him how annoying and selfish he was, and how he didn’t get to be a huge asshole just because he was feeling a little under the weather? Or would he leave in silence, just exit the room with that silent, cold anger that Roman only showed when he was really upset.

Maybe he’d tell everyone else what happened, how he’d tried to extend an olive branch, test it out just to see if maybe his illness hadn’t made him into a pathetic prick, but Virgil lashed out as expected and ran him off. Would Logan and Patton get mad at him too? Come in and tell him off for being so horrible to his own family, that he couldn’t even be a decent person for 5 minutes.

Maybe things wouldn’t go back to normal even after he’s recovered, all because he couldn’t just control himself.

“Virgil, what are you talking about?” Roman asked exasperated, and Virgil dragged his hands down his face. He meant to make more of a growl in frustration, but it came out closer to a pained whine. His eyes stung for a new reason now. He just wanted this to stop. Why wouldn’t Roman just stop?

“What. What am I talking about what. I can’t do this- this whole vague shit righ’now, jus’ spit it out.” He hated how short tempered he was sounding, but Roman didn’t seem to be fazed. Virgil could see the Prince waving his hands around in his peripheral, looking tongue tied.

“The- The part where you think i’m fucking with you?? Why you think we’re avoiding you?? Why you’re so-... so….” Roman trailed off, a look of realization crossing his face, which quickly turned to horror and guilt. “Wait a… w-wait a second, Virgil, are you- are you sick??”

To say Roman sounded appalled would be an understatement, his eyes wide in shock, brows drawn, mouth slightly agape. Virgil’s head spun, suddenly dizzy as his brain tried to figure out why Roman sounded so horrified- why he sounded so surprised. He couldn’t stand it, he couldn’t understand what was going on. He felt nauseous and he just wanted to sleep. Before he knew it, tears were trekking down his face, thick tears springing from his eyes making the pressure behind them even more unbearable. A sob tore painfully from his throat, instantly catching the Prince’s full attention.

“Oh my… Virgil-“

Virgil shrunk away from the Prince’s voice, curling up once more into a ball, trying to hide from everything. His lip wobbled, he could feel it, but he was too tired to be embarrassed or feel pathetic. He pulled the covers closer around him. “R-Roman, please jus’-“ He hiccuped on a sob, hissed through his teeth as the action sent a sharp pain through his lungs. “I don’ know i-if you’re tryin’ to joke ‘r somethin’, but— but ’s n- not funny, o-okay?”

Instead of speaking clearly at a normal volume, Virgil was nearly mumbling the entire time he was speaking, slurring through words even worse than when the conversation started. Was it just him, or was the room spinning? “Please, i… i need you t’...” Virgil huffed for breath, exhaustion wearing on him like a switch was just suddenly flipped. It nearly took all his energy to try and get a deep breath.

“Ro…”

Virgil was met with a warm, broad chest, and strong arms wrapping around him before he even knew he was slumping forward. His ears were ringing, drowning out what sounded like a familiar voice speaking to him. They sounded distressed, he hoped they were okay. What was combing through his hair? He couldn’t quite remember what was going on before then, but all he knew was, he was safe now.

Then, the world went dark.

———

Virgil came into consciousness a little while later, his brain the kind of blissfully empty that only comes after passing out, apparently. He couldn’t grasp where he was before, existing in a reality where there is no past for a few moments. His head was vaguely aching, like a dull throb faded into the background, and his lungs stung only a little when he breathed in deeply. In his sleepy state though, Virgil didn’t concern himself with those feelings.

Virgil couldn’t see anything, he noticed not long after, but he could hear murmuring and the distant sound of water running.

Next, he realized he knew he wasn’t in his own room anymore, both because this wasn’t his mattress, and the room didn’t smell like his own.

He could smell.. cinnamon… and peaches… and ink. Somewhere in his groggy brain, Virgil recognized the smell, but at the moment it was just out of his reach. It didn’t bother him, though, not when he was so relaxed and calm. He felt like he was one with the bed, and the soft, fluffy sheets encasing him.

A few more seconds of coming to, and Virgil realized his eyes were covered with something damp, and cool… soft too. It felt amazing against his warm skin. oh right, i’m sick, a thought entered his mind gently.

Then, a lot less gently, the events from before he passed out rushed to the forefront of his mind, practically smacking him in the face. Because yes, he’d passed out, right in front of Roman like an idiot, oh shit, why isn’t he in his room, where is he-

“Virgil? Hey woah, calm down buddy- here,” Virgil heard someone quickly cross the room, and tended his body for all of two seconds before the washcloth over his eyes was being lifted.

Virgil blinked blearily, squinting his eyes even though the room was almost completely shrouded in darkness, save for a thin line of light coming from the cracked bathroom door. Someone was sat beside him on the side of the bed, but he was too blurry for Virgil to make out details.

“There you are. Hey Hot Topic, how are you feeling?” the person asked, speaking more gently than anyone had spoken to Virgil in a long time. Strangely though, Virgil wasn’t upset by it. It was.. nice…

Wait a minute, he knew that voice.

“R- Roman..? I.. Where…?” Distantly, Virgil knew he sounded like shit, which meant he probably looked like shit, and directly after asking that half assed question, he realized he had to be in the Princes room. “Oh.. fuckin’- I passed out on you..” he groaned, moving his hands up to scrub the blurriness from his eyes.

It worked, surprisingly, and now that Virgil could see, he realized that yes, Roman was the one sitting next to him, and yes he was in Roman’s room, in Roman’s bed. He also noticed how tossed Roman’s hair was, and the bright red with little snowmen pajamas the Prince wore. They were really adorable.

“Yes, I’m afraid you did.. and I’m also afraid that I am partly to blame for it.” Roman sighed, casting his eyes down as he pressed his lips in a line.

Virgil’s brows drew together, and, because he was so delirious, he reached out to grab gently at Romans sleeve. “How is it your fault that I passed out?” he asked incredulously. At least he could speak properly now. Now? Now since when? Oh geez, “Wait how long have I been out? A few hours? Days? Years?! Did I fall into a coma?!”

The corner of Roman’s lip lifted in amusement, and he gently lay a hand over Virgil’s, on his sleeve. “No, no nothing like that, Dark Knight. It’s only been an hour or so. I.. hope you don’t mind, but I had to bring you in here. Your fever was… really high.” The Prince of Creativity said, solemn by the end.

“I think i’ve managed to get it down, so it’s not so dangerous anymore, but Logan will definitely have to keep an eye on it today.”

That got Virgil's attention. “Wait- Logan? Uh.. yeah, not to burst your bubble Princey, but I doubt that’ll be happening.” There was a slight bitterness to his tone as he wrapped his free arm around his midsection, and though there wasn’t as much bitterness as there usually would be, Roman still picked up on it loud and clear.

He inclined his head, as if in agreement, and Virgil stomach only sunk a little bit before Roman was speaking again.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Virgil. You see, there seems to have been a grave misunderstanding. This is how I’m partially responsible for your passing out, same as Logan and Patton are also partly to blame.”

Virgil’s eyes widened, breath hitching at the sheer ridiculousness of that suggestion. No!! How could it be their fault? He’s the one that got so sick and couldn’t keep himself healthy enough not to fucking pass out. He opened his mouth to say as much, but Roman held up a finger before he could get out a single word, silencing him.

“A few days ago, 5 to be exact, it came to Patton’s attention that you weren’t feeling yourself. He told me and Logan that you told him you weren’t feeling very well, and that we should all give you some space the next few days.” Roman said carefully. Ah yes, that conversation. The one that’s haunted Virgil for nearly a week. Virgil remembered it well.

With a hesitant, still very lost nod from Virgil, Roman continued. “It seems that Patton, and in turn, Logan and I, assumed that your strange behavior was linked to.. well, anxiety.” He gave Virgil’s hand a light squeeze, any sign of a smile gone and replaced with pained regret. The Prince swallowed, just as Virgil pieced it together.

“Because of these more stressful times Thomas is experiencing, we wrongly thought that you were having a rough week, leading to worse anxiety. So… we’ve been leaving you on your own, thinking we were helping you..”

Virgil.. didn’t know what to say. He looked up and found Roman’s red, sorrowful eyes. When he focused, he could see they were just a little bit bloodshot, even in the dark. Proof that he had previously cried, no doubt about this. When Virgil didn’t speak, still too shocked as his slowed brain processes this, Roman continued, quietly choking back a sob just after he averted his gaze to the floor.

“V-Virgil-“ he voice cracked. Virgil’s heart was sinking in his chest. Roman had never looked so heartbroken. “Virgil I’m so sorry, I had no idea you were sick, none of us did! I-I swear I didn’t know, I would have never left you alone if I had, Virgil, Star, i’m so so s-sorry,”

Roman was practically full on crying by that point, though he clearly tried to keep it to himself and stay quiet. Virgil was grateful for the effort, but there were much more important things to focus on at the moment. He may not be completely himself, but he still couldn’t let Roman be so sad.

It was because he wasn’t completely himself that Virgil automatically sat up (taking his time to do so, trying not to upset his head), and leaned himself right against Roman, chest to chest, looping his arms around to loosely hold Princey in a hug.

It all made sense now, why he’d been ignored all week, and why nobody came to check on him or try to help. He felt a little (read: a lot) stupid for thinking that anyone in his famILY would do anything but show him the upmost care and attention when he needed it. They thought they were helping, and honestly, had he in fact been having a bad week of heightened anxiety, giving him space would have been the right thing for them to do.

Roman was quick to return Virgil’s hug, though to his credit, his hug was a lot stronger and more secure than Virgil’s. He buried his face in Virgil’s hair, a steady stream of teary apologies spilling from him. A steady stream that Virgil hastily tried to end.

“Roman, it’s okay… i’m not upset, I promise it’s okay. I know you were doing what you thought would help me. Please don’t cry, Princey.” He said softly.

It might have been a few more minutes, or a few hours, that the two sides sat together in each other’s arms. Roman’s cries and apologies slowly quieted to a stop, though the gentle combing of fingers through Virgil’s hair only continued as they sat.

“Hey… Roman?” Virgil whispered after a few more moments, the whole mindscape quiet, save for the quiet sniffles from both Virgil and Roman every once in a while.

“Yes, sweet Midnight?” came an equally gentle response. Neither side moved, Virgil too content with his face snuggly buried against his counterpart’s shoulder, and Roman too content with having Anxiety safe in his arms.

“Would… well, you can say no, but would you mind.. if I stay in here..? I don’t… really want to be alone…” a hint of Virgil’s usual anxious tendencies showed itself despite the tiredness that was starting to cover the darker side. Instead of head-swimming exhaustion though, this time Virgil felt pleasantly heavy and relaxed.

Without uttering another word, Roman pulled them both down to lay their heads on the pillows, lifting one hand to gently flick his wrist and manipulate the covers around them. The light in the bathroom turned off with a soft click of Roman’s fingers, one that Virgil hardly registered as he shuffled somehow closer to the Prince, still tucked safely in his arms.

As he fell softly and smoothly into the first restful sleep he’s had in days, Virgil noticed that he wasn’t freezing cold anymore. The dull throb in his head had gone away almost entirely, and it felt that much easier to breathe. But most importantly, Virgil felt less alone than he had in a long, long time.

Needless to say, Virgil was feeling better already.

#tw sickness #hurt/comfort #sanders sides #ts sanders sides #thomas sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #ts virgil #ts roman #prinxiety #virgil x roman #romantic prinxiety #platonic prinxiety

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multi-fxndom446 · 4 years ago

Text

Forever

Gojo Satoru x Reader

Warning: angst to fluff I suppose. Also the fact I proof read this at 3am and thought it was good so I’m posting it now before I regret it and re-write it 6 more times to then give up ✌🏻😝 anways

Part 2? I have a good idea but it’s up to you guysXD (which I’m not gonna lie part 2 would probably help it make sense)

Summary:

Out on our own

Gojo Satoru. Where do you even start to describe that man? Or how you fell for him?

That’s all you could think of when you looked towards him. Smiling softly at his feature that he showed proudly or the features he kept hidden away like his eyes. His eyes were something you could get lost in any day of your life and maybe that was one of the reasons you had fallen for him.

You smiled softly as he spoke to you, he was telling you another story of his students. You knew more then anyone how proud he was of them, even if others thought otherwise. That was another reason you had fallen so hard.

You had known gojo for many years and in those years you actually got to chip away at his god complex and get to who he truly was. He didn’t know you did it until it was to late and he suddenly couldn’t let you go.

If you had known falling for gojo would one day lead you to losing him, you still would’ve let yourself fall over and over.

Dreamin in a world that we both know

You sat by his side quietly, watching his smile brighten more and more. It was a rare chance the two of you got to be alone.

You glanced down at his hands as they gently and mindlessly played with yours. He must’ve caught onto your lack of attention because suddenly his hands were moving to your face to gently return your gaze to him.

“What are you thinking about?” He asked, rather softly. Something you had gotten used to. In these rare moments he liked to be his quieter self to relish in your presence rather then his own.

You took his hand from your face and gently kissed his palm before you looked out at the buildings that surrounded the school. You locked his fingers with yours and leaned your head on his shoulder.

“Just everything I suppose.” You chuckled, watching his thumb draw circles into your hand. “How was I able to get the infamous Gojo Satoru to fall for me?”

The question was more of one you were asking yourself but he kissed the top of your head and answered, “because you showed me love. You loved me for who I was and not just for my power or strength” he squeezed your hand, “I’ve loved you since we started highschool you know?”

Your head shot up to look at him, “seriously?!” He laughed.

“Don’t look so surprised,” his laughs died down and he brought his hand back to your face and suddenly the atmosphere changed. He used his other hand to pull down his mask, allowing his hair to fall and for you to see the sincerity in his eyes.

He brought you closer kissing you softly, you could feel his eyelashes tickle your cheeks with butterfly kisses as he closed his eyes to enjoy the kiss.

You melted into him, you always did and you were sure you always would.

Is out of our control

But if shit hits the fan we’re not alone

“I’m sorry y/n.” Shoko spoke softly as if scared you would break down at any point in time. “I can only do so much from here though, you should see a doctor.”

“Are you positive?” You asked, after you sat silently for a moment processing the information she had just given you. You looked to her with tears brimming your eyes and reluctantly she nodded. “So what’s the point of seeing a doctor? You told me everything I need to know.”

“Y/n maybe they could give you something to help, to keep you alive.” You got up from the chair with a sigh and looked at your friend with a small smile.

She wasn’t good with emotions especially when it was her friends. She went to say something else but stopped when you took a deep breathe, “in your opinion, do you actually think they could help?” Her silence told you everything you needed to know.

“How long?” You whispered out, still trying to keep your tears at bay.

She sighed, “I can’t give you an exact time but not very long. It’s progressing very fast. It’s already progressed so much since the last time you came in for a check up.” You we’re both silent refusing to look the other in the eye. “How has Gojo taken it?”

“I haven’t told him.”

“What?” She looked to you in disbelief but you just shrugged in response. “How have you been able to hide the symptoms this long?”

“I’m just good at covering I guess” some tears slipped unwillingly from your eyes.

“You have to tell him.” You nodded in response before bidding your goodbye, sparing her a thank you.

As soon as you were out the door Gojo was by your side with a curious head tilt, silently asking what you were doing but you just smiled at him. “Just needed help with a case.” Before he could complain about you only needing his help you spoke again, “you know you have me? Right? You know I’ll always be there for you.”

Cause you’ve got me and you know

“I know.” His confusion only grew but he gave you a soft smile, intertwining your fingers. “And you’ll always have me as well.”

And I’ve got you and I know

But if the tide takes California

I’m so glad I got to hold ya

As days went by your sickness got worse and it was getting harder and harder to keep it from Gojo, passing off every coughing fit as a dry throat to which he’d lecture you about drinking enough water.

You spent every last minute with Gojo which he wasn’t complaining about but something wasn’t right but he wouldn’t pry until you were ready.

You stopped participating as much in missions and even sat on the side lines for training which was never like you but you ran out of breathe easily now and those would throw you into coughing fits that would end with you coughing up blood.

So to save yourself from that exhaustion you stopped.

Shoko was the only one that knew until Nanami saw you one day and immediately he knew. He watched you from afar for a moment taking in the time to notice how you guilty looked at Gojo. He went to you and confronted you about it immediately, leading into a slight argument.

Gojo was stood on the field, his hands in his pockets as he watched. You were angry or more so frustrated and nanami knew why. He said one simple sentence to you and you were immediately falling to the ground in tears as Nanami tried to comfort you.

As soon as Gojo saw you fall he was by your side before the tears could hit the ground. “Y/n what happened?” You just shook your head so he looked to Nanami for answers but he was already turned away and walking the other direction.

He wasn’t gonna be the one to tell Gojo.

And if the sky falls from heaven above

Oh I know I had the best time falling into love

You looked over at Gojo with utter adoration and love as he trained his students, joking with them here and there.

It was nice, peaceful. To see him not worry over you. You almost just let him be and went to walk away until Yuuji pointed you out and Gojo cut the class short.

You tried to smile but it never reached your eyes and fell before he could even return the smile himself. When he was finally in front of you, he softly brushed hair out of your face and looked you over.

“Y/n” you hummed in response but your heart started sinking when you saw his frown. “Please tell me what has been going on.”

We’ve been living on a faultline

And for awhile you were all mine

You knew you couldn’t hide it forever but some part of you hoped that if you didn’t tell him it wouldn’t be true and you could live with him forever and be happy.

But the look in his eyes told you, you had to tell him. You had to tell him everything.

“I suppose it’s time to talk isn’t it?” You laughed in sadness before you took his hand in yours and lead him to a bench.

I spent a life time giving you my heart

I swear that I’ll be yours forever till, forever falls apart

“Gojo,” you moved forward hesitantly almost asking if you could remove his blindfold which he leaned into your touch allowing you to finally see the eyes that you loved so much. The ones that were filled with concern now. You decided it would be better to just rip the bandaid off so with a sigh you continued, “I’m dying.”

Till forever falls apart

“What?”

So this is it?

That’s how it ends?

“Gojo I already told her there’s nothing I can do.” Shoko told him, moving around to collect the things Gojo had carelessly knocked over in his frustration.

He watched her silently until she was finally done, “why not?” She went to respond but he wasn’t done. “Why the hell not?! Why can’t you reverse it?! That’s your power why can’t you do anything?!”

Her eyes widened slightly, she wasn’t used to him yelling. “Gojo,” she started softly. “I can’t reverse it because it’s not cursed energy, it’s a sickness. And even if I could, she didn’t come to me until it progressed to far.”

He was silent, his mouth slightly agape as he registered her words. “I’m sorry Satoru. I really am.”

I guess theres nothing more romantic then dying with your friends.

Gojo was leaning against the doorframe, hands in his pockets as he watched you and his students. You had gotten close to them very easily, it was like they depended on you.

As he watched them smile brightly at you he wondered if they knew. But by the way you tried to reciprocate there smile to ease them he knew they didn’t.

How could you hold this from him? There should’ve been something he could’ve done.

No, that’s wrong. He knew it too. There was nothing he could to help you especially if Shoko could do nothing.

Almost as if you felt his eyes on you, you glanced towards him and gave him a soft smile. He completely melted for you and he always has.

He knew there may have been nothing he could do but he sure as hell wasn’t gonna let you live out your days with no hope.

And I’m not sorry, for myself.

The next few weeks Gojo had been quiet, keeping to himself and you thought it was your fault. And tonight like many other nights, You watched Gojo walk from room to room and for a moment you were worried he was avoiding you but when he came into the bedroom with a soft smile you knew you were wrong. This was different then the other nights.

“Ready?” In his arms were a few blankets that took him forever to find, he needed to find the right ones.

You titled your head to the side slightly, “for what?” He held his hand out for you and as always you took it. He helped you up and kept your hand in his.

“You’ll see.”

The silence would’ve been deafening had you not been with Gojo, his silence was always something you found comfort in.

He glanced at you to see if you were okay and for a moment he felt at peace, at peace that you even decided to spend your life with him to begin with. Then he remembered, you didn’t spend your life with him. You spent not even half your life with him. He wanted you to spend every day with him until you both were old. And suddenly that fleeting moment of peace was gone.

“Gojo?” He turned his head towards you, “where are we going?”

He looked out toward the path again and smiled, “we’re almost there.”

Gojo guided you through the paths for a few minutes more before he finally got to his destination and he turned to you again with the biggest smile, a smile that always made you smile. “Here.”

When you looked out at where you were suddenly it made sense and you turned back to him, “is this-?”

“Where I first admitted I loved you? Yes.” He dragged you along the path towards a little patch of grass where he laid out the blankets before he helped you sit down.

“Wow I’m surprised you remember this place.” You joked bumping his shoulder. He gave you a genuine laugh but as it died down a feeling of sadness filled it’s place.

“I always remember everything that involves you.” You looked at him in disbelief so he continued, “I know you don’t believe me but I do. You stuck by my side for everything and it was always very easy for me to lose people because I cared about myself more then I did for others. Then you came in and suddenly I couldn’t even remember why I thought I was the most important thing in this world.”

You watched him with a gaze filled with love, “you know I had a crush on you for the longest time? I remember seeing you and saying I wanted to know you. Then I did get to know you and I fell completely in love with you.” You were silent. “Gojo.”

“Hm?”

“I’m sorry I’m the one you fell for. That I’m the one who you finally opened up to.” He shook his head laughing at that

“I wouldn’t want to spend a minute loving anybody else.” You gave him a shaky smile and he was quick to wipe a tear from your cheek. “Don’t cry, please.”

He kissed your head and for once he didn’t remove his blindfold, just so you wouldn’t see the way his eyes glazed over.

Cause you’ve got me and you know

You both sat there for what felt like hours and if Gojo was honest he could have stayed there for hours to come but he could feel the way you were shivering next to him.

“We should get back.” He finally decided and when he turned to you he felt his heart break just a little more. You’re skin was pale, paler then it had been before. Or maybe it was always this pale he just refused to see it.

He stood up and grabbed your hand, helping you stand. As soon as you were up you had to grab onto his arms to keep you steady and after a deep breathe you stood up and gave him a soft smile. “I’m sorry, just light headed.”

And I’ve got you and I know

“Don’t apologize.” He told you and went to grab the blankets when he saw the way you gazed off. “Hey,” you didn’t look at him so he took your chin between his thumb and index finger and turned you to him. “You’ll fight this ok?”

“Gojo-“

“Trust me. You trust me don’t you?” You nodded and he held his hand up for a high five. “You will fight this.”

You laughed a little and went to return his high-five but right as your hand made contact with his your smile fell, and your knees buckled beneath you.

So if the tide takes California

I’m so glad I got to hold you

Gojos body reacted faster then his mind. One moment you were high-fiving him the next he was catching you before you hit the ground. “Y/n?” When he looked down at you his mind finally caught up.

“Stay with me please!” And he was zipping his way to a hospital, knowing Shoko couldn’t do anything the hospital was the next best thing. “You’ll be ok we’re almost there.”

You could only keep your eyes open enough to look at Gojo and the way the wind rushed through his hair. His hair, you loved his hair. You went to reach for it when a bright light stopped you. You almost thought you died right then but when you turned your head you saw the halls of a hospital and distinctly you could hear Gojo yelling at someone to help.

And if the sky falls from heaven above

Nurses and doctors were running to him the moment they saw him carrying you in his arms. They brought over a bed to have you laid down on but when they went to grab you he was hesitant.

When they were finally able to get you from his arms you kept your gaze on him and before they took you away you called out to him, “oh I know I had the best time falling into love.”

He felt his whole world falling apart before him, he found himself going over everything in his head. You were pale he should have paid more mind to that or the way you coughed he should’ve seen it sooner.

He stood resting against a wall, glaring down at the floor as his mind went through every possibility until he felt someone stand right next to him. “How is she?” Gojo turned to Nanami who was watching down the halls.

“Not good.” He replied before they fell back into silence. “Howd you know I was here?”

Nanami sighed, “I’ve been expecting it. I saw you on the way here.”

“I really was blind to it wasn’t I?” Nanami didn’t answer and Gojo was okay with that, it seemed to answer his question nonetheless.

We’ve been living on a fault line

And for awhile you were all mine.

They had been waiting for what felt like hours until finally a doctor came back to get him. “She’s awake now, you’re able to see her.”

When Gojo took a step Nanami stopped him, “give her my best will you? I’ll take care of your students.” Gojo nodded at him in thanks and then followed the doctor to your room.

The doctor stopped at your door and let him in. As soon as his eyes fell on you Gojo almost had to step right back out of the room to pretend this wasn’t real. But it was and you needed him.

You turned your head when you heard soft footsteps and smiled softly when your eyes landed on Gojo. “Hey.”

I’ve spent a life time giving you my heart

“How are you feeling?” You both knew you weren’t feeling great.

“I’m okay.” But you always wanted to reassure him and make sure he didn’t worry. But he was worried. He loved you, more then anything and now he was losing you.

Your life was literally just minutes away from being over and you both felt it and it terrified you. “Do you remember the first time I told you I liked you?” You asked him softly hoping to get a reaction from him but all he could do was give a short nod.

“I was in my last year of middle school just about to transfer to-to Jujutsu. I saw you walking and I-“ you got cut off by your own coughing and in a second he was by your side.

“You saw me leaving and your friends dared you to do it before we didn’t see each other for a few months.” He finished for you, making you drink the water the doctors gave you. “I ignored you at the time.”

He sounded regretful but you knew if he didn’t ignore you then he would never have fallen for you in the first place.

The room fell silent again after you took a few sips of water then pushed his hand away. “Can I see your eyes, please.” He was hesitant, but the pleading in your own outweighed his hesitation.

He pulled his blindfold down, trying to cover up the emotions he was feeling but when you smiled weakly at him he felt all the emotions flooding through him. “Do you remember what I said after you confessed to me?” You asked him but you didn’t wait for him to answer, “I swear that I’ll be yours forever.”

But you forgot what he said afterwords as a joke to lighten the intense mood he had put between you.

“Till forever falls apart”

“Don’t say that.” You frowned, machines starting to beep around you. “Gojo, I-I’m scared.”

He held your hand not even being able to give you a smile now. Instead he squeezed your hand and said the last words you wanted to hear, “I love you more then anything Y/N.”

Till forever falls apart

The next moment you smiled one last time and he felt your hand go limp in his. He almost went to call for help but hearing the deafening and unending beep he knew, he knew it was over.

He had lost you.

We never had it from the start

Till death do us part

Doctors and nurses flooded the room in an instant but still they were a second to late. So before they could push him out, he gave you one last kiss on your head and finally left.

The moment he stepped out of that hospital he felt as though he left a part of himself there and he wasn’t sure he would ever get it back. But for now he needed to be there for his students.

If the tide takes California

A year later Gojo found himself stood in front of your gravestone. Your name was written nicely across the top with the date of your birthday and the day you died.

He never let himself dwell on the memories of what he could have done. It was to late and he was done putting himself through the torture.

He turned from your grave and made his way back to where his students were waiting. Megumi seemed to be the only one to notice the slight shift in Gojos mood but decided not to speak on it.

Gojo walked behind his three students laughing as they joked and made fun of each other until he saw something pass by him in the corner of his eye, something familiar.

He felt like he was moving in slow motion as he found the person, no, as he found you again. You passed by him and were walking away from him. He couldn’t let you go, not again.

I’m so glad I got to know you

He walked towards you gently grabbing onto your wrist. You turned towards him quickly with shock written all over your face and for a second he thought you remembered him. “Y/n?” And then you spoke.

“Who?” He felt his heart break all over again. “I’m sorry do I know you?”

“No” he immediately let go of you and took a step back, “no I’m sorry- I-I’m sorry. You just look like someone I know.”

And if the sky falls from heaven above

I know I had the best time falling into love

You watched him take a step away from you and as you watched him, something felt familiar. You looked to who was waiting for him, the three students looked familiar as well.

“Gojo?” You asked yourself softly almost as if testing the name and suddenly you were stepping towards him as if allowing yourself to remember. “Wait! Gojo! I remember!”

Immediately Gojo turned right back around and stared at you to see if you were being honest and when he saw your smile he knew. He ran back to you, wrapping his arms around you as you did the same. “I-I don’t know how- I don’t know how I remember, I just did.”

“Shh it’s okay.” He reassured before he pulled away to cup your cheeks in his hands.

We’ve been living on a fault line

And for awhile you were all mine

He looked over you in amazement not once asking himself how or why you were here. You were supposed to be dead how are you here right in front of him?

I’ve spent a life time giving you my heart

All he knew was his heart was filled with relief and that’s all he needed. He leaned his head against yours, relishing in your warmth.

“I swear that I’ll be yours forever.” He whispered softly to you and you smiled in joy. But he forgot the most important part of that sentence.

Till forever falls apart

~~~

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk imagines #jjk x reader #jujustu kaisen imagine #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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procrastinatingsapphictrash · 4 years ago

Text

A little help from the team

Word count: 2989

Genre: A little angst but mostly fluff

Pairing: Natasha x fem!reader

Warnings: Light swearing, brief mentions of alcohol (let me know if I need to add more)

Request: Can you do a natasha x reader fic where they are so in love with each other but none of them makes a move and the rest of the avengers are frustreted, even Nick Fury so he goes and sets them up by sending them to a mission together in Budapest? You decide who finally makes the first move

Summary: Frustrated with you and Natasha avoiding your feelings Tony convinces the others to try to get you together, Nick Fury needs no convincing.

A/n: This was an anonymous request and it’s a bit late so I hope the person that requested this is seeing this and if you are I hope you like it! Also I’m trying out the thing where you post it at a scheduled time because I don’t think posting at 11 pm is a great idea so hopefully that works. Also to anyone who has sent requests, they will get done soon, the reason why they are taking longer is because some of them gave me series ideas so obviously series take longer than oneshots. Anyways I hope everyone enjoys the story!

“Just tell Natasha your feelings already, it’s not a big deal!” Tony says exasperated.

“Yeah what am I supposed to say?” you question. “Hi Tasha, sorry to bother you but I just wanted to tell you I’ve been hopelessly in love with you for years. You don’t like me back? No, that’s cool, it's not like I have a broken heart now, see you around!”

“Come on Y/n, it wouldn’t go like that, you have to tell her!” He insists so you look to Bruce who is sitting at the other side of the lab for help.

He glances guiltily at you. “Sorry but for once in his life Tony is right-” Tony scoffs but Bruce continues “-you need to take a chance and honestly I think it will work out. She’s nicer to you than to anybody else.”

You give him a small smile. “Thanks for trying to help guys, I really do appreciate it but I just can’t tell her right now I hope you understand.” They both nod their head but you can tell that they are a bit disappointed in you. You’re a bit disappointed in yourself as well because you would like nothing more than to tell her but even the thought makes your heart race in a way nothing has done before.

“Anyways I’ve got to go now because I promised Maria I would help her train some of the new recruits and then we’re meeting up with Tasha for lunch.” You tell them plopping yourself down from the counter you were seated on.

“Bye!” “See ya!” You hear both of them say as you walk out of the room and you inwardly smile, thankful to have such great friends.

As soon as Tony realizes you’re out of earshot he turns to Bruce with a mischievous expression on his face. “We’ve got to do something about the two of them.”

“I don’t know,” Bruce says while looking down at his hands, “it really isn’t our business and there’s a good chance whatever you have in mind could make it worse.”

“Is that seriously what you think of me?” Tony teases. “Besides, it wouldn’t be just me helping, I think we should call a team meeting minus those two. They are both out of the tower right now so it would be perfect.”

Bruce sighs. “I don’t know Tony…”

“Please Brucie?” Tony pleads. “It’s for love! And I’m doing either way so you either get a say in the plan or you don’t.”

He caves in. “Fine. But you have to get Steve to agree with whatever you do.”

“Not going to lie to you Bruce, it hurts that you trust Steve more than me,” Tony says, looking completely unbothered, “Jarvis, tell everybody to meet in the common floor living room.”

“Of course sir.” The A.I. responds as Tony already starts to race upstairs, Bruce trailing after him slowly.

Because Tony got so excited he didn’t want to take the elevator and wanted to run up the stairs, it actually took longer for them to make their way up to the floor because, predictably, around half way up Tony got exhausted and needed a break. Therefore by the time they made it the rest of the team was already waiting.

“Why did you call us here Tony?” Steve asks for the group.

“Because we were just talking to Y/n in the labs and since she and Natasha are so obviously in love with each other we need to come up with a plan to get them together. You in?”

“Of course I’m in!” Clint answers without any hesitation.

“As much as I would like to help, it is none of our business what they choose to do.” Steve tells Tony, looking conflicted.

“Do it for love!” Tony says dramatically. “Do you really think those two idiots are going to do anything about their feelings anytime soon?”

“Well no,” Steve yields, “I guess there’s no harm in that.” Wanda, Sam and Bucky follow Steve’s lead and agree, Tony pumping his fist in the air as soon as they do as Bruce sighs loudly, wishing he wasn’t a part of whatever this was.

“So do you have any ideas?” Wanda asks.

Tony grins like a maniac. “Yes actually I do. All we have to do is convince Fury to get on board and then we can send them on a fake mission, pretending to be a couple, with no actual objective. Then in order to keep their cover Fury can force them to sleep in a room with only one bed.”

Everyone looks at him blankly and Sam speaks up. “That’s your plan dude?!!?? That sounds like the plot of a bad rom-com.”

Tony is not known as a great businessman and negotiator for no reason and two hours later he finds himself walking through the hallways of Shield with Steve by his side, on his way to ask Fury about his idea.

“Why did it have to be us two?” Steve asks.

“Because I’m a smooth talker and charming so Fury will obviously like what I say, and you’re responsible so if he knows you agree with me there’s no way he’ll say no. Steve sighs but doesn’t protest as they reach the door and Tony knocks.

“Come in.” Fury says and they both enter. Immediately upon seeing Tony’s expression Fury raises his eyebrows and leans forward in a way that made him look doubtful already.

“I need a favour-” Tony starts.

“No can do.” Fury interrupts him.

“It’s about Y/n and Natasha not me.” Tony says, trying to change his mind.

“Tony, he said no.” Steve tries to remind him so they can leave.

Fury holds up his hand. “No, wait, this I am interested in.” Steve looks shocked that he isn’t throwing them out of the room but Tony just smirks and explains his plan. Neither of them have ever seen Fury look so mischievous and considering that he’s a spy that has lied to them more times than they know of, that is saying something.

“Usually I would hate to admit this but Stark is one hundred percent right. They both will not admit their feelings but being alone together pretending to be a couple for a week could push them to the breaking point. I will inform them later today about the ‘mission’.”

“Thank you sir, we will leave you alone now.” Tony says, ushering Steve out of the room.

“No, thank YOU Stark.” Fury says before phoning you.

Two hours after you received a phone call from Fury you walk with Natasha into the briefing room for a mission. You were a bit disappointed because when you had asked Nat and Maria earlier if they wanted to get lunch after the training session, only Nat had agreed so you were supposed to be eating lunch with just her, which was rare. At least the mission was together, although most missions didn’t allow much time for talking to each other.

“Do you know what Fury has in mind?” Natasha asks but you shrug in response. You never know what goes through Fury’s mind but that’s what makes him such a good director.

Speaking of which he somehow knows you’re there before you knock on the door and says, “come in.” You and Natasha exchange glances, rolling your eyes at his dramatics before entering and sitting in the two chairs provided.

“You have a mission that should only last a few days. Your job is to go to Budapest on a honeymoon at a hotel where we believe this couple of prominent arms dealers are staying.” You’ve never had to act in a romantic situation with Natasha before so it makes you very nervous but you know better than to argue because Fury never changes his mind.

Natasha apparently doesn’t. “Why do I have to do it with her, wouldn’t it be more believable if I did it with one of the guys?” You can’t help but feel hurt at the fact that she is so against doing this mission with you and you make a mental note to tell Tony about this so he stops bugging you about her liking you back.

“Agent Romanoff, I have my reasons, and this is what is best for this particular mission.” Fury says, offering no explanation as to what his reasons are.

Natasha frowns but doesn’t argue. “Fine, when do we leave?”

“Now,” he says, “you’ll get the full file briefing on the jet on the way over, please read them carefully.” Neither of you respond verbally but you both respectfully nod before making your way over to the jets. You’re a bit surprised by the type of mission he gave you because usually you don’t do many spy missions but you aren’t surprised by the lack of turnover time. Everything at Shield has no exact schedule meaning the hours were horrible.

The jet ride over there is silent and Natasha seems to avoid you, either in the bathroom or cockpit the entire time except for when you were reading over the files. This didn’t seem like a very exciting mission because there wasn’t even a guarantee that the couple would be there, just rumors, however based on the files Fury seemed to think that taking the chance was worth it because they were important.

All the way to the hotel in the cab Natasha continued to act strangely and ignore you instead of striking up conversation like she normally would. You try not to let it bother you and thoughts of her behaviour go out the window when you see the hotel you’re supposed to be staying at. It’s gorgeous and obviously would cost a ton of money. You marvel at architecture as you step out of the cab, mumbling thank you to Natasha as she hands you your bag you almost forgot.

The bonus of working with Shield is that you didn’t have to check in because the key card was already provided for you so you rush up to your room which is on the fourth floor, pulling Natasha by her free hand behind you to keep up the newly married and in love act. You burst into your room and stop short; there’s only one bed. Natasha follows and also pauses as she sees the situation. Both of you look around for a pullout bed or a couch but there’s none to be found.

“Well I guess we’re sharing now!” You say brightly, trying to pretend that you are not completely freaking out.

“Yeah…” she says quietly, unenthused. Once again you keep a straight face but it hurts inside.

“Should we start off at the bar?” you ask her. “In the files I got the impression that they’re the type of couple that would like to drink quite a lot.”

“Good idea!” she praises, and your mood brightens considerably.

In the end it turns out that both of you are wrong and the couple doesn’t make an appearance at the bar even though you were there for three hours. Afterwards, still tired from your flight you both crawl into bed, lying at far opposite sides and trying not to move. It’s awkward so you want to fall asleep to escape the feeling but you lie awake for hours, dreaming about what it would be like to sleep in the same bed but holding each other instead of turning away.

When you wake up in the morning you aren’t well rested at all. Staying up late combined with not letting yourself fully relax because you didn’t want to invade Natasha’s space were two things that worked well to keep you tired. Luckily all you have to do today is go around the hotel participating in activities together and looking out for the arms dealers while pretending to be honeymooning.

You soon learn that it is harder said than done. There still have been no sighting of the targets but honestly that seems easier to you at this point. The entire day Natasha was on you, whether it was a quick peck on the cheek, fiddling with your hand or her hand on your waist, she never strayed far and you were worried your heart was going to combust or you would accidentally tell her you were in love with her, both of which would be bad. Luckily you manage to hold it together for the whole day and take a long shower to destress and try to keep your mind off of Natasha. You think you do a pretty good job but once again you lie awake for hours before you finally drift off and even when you do, your sleep is not very good.

The next day is a repeat of the first which annoys you because you were supposed to be flying back to Shield tomorrow and you still hadn’t even located your targets. Both of you are feeling a little frustrated so when Natasha suggests you call it a night and head to the bar you agree quickly. You drink enough to be tipsy but not drunk before you cut yourself off because you don’t like the idea of a hangover. Natasha doesn’t stop drinking when you do yet looks perfectly sober whereas you feel like a mess so you inwardly curse her alcohol tolerance and acting skills.

The two of you stay in the bar playing useless games like darts but having a lot of fun until 2 am when the bartender kicks you out with a creepy look, telling you to enjoy the rest of your night. You shudder slightly when you realize what he is thinking about but don’t dignify him with a response, instead following after Natasha as she walks back up to your room, occasionally sneaking glances at her butt.

When you get inside both of you change into pyjamas back to back, too lazy to take a shower or even change in the bathroom. You sigh as your head hits the pillow, the last few days of late nights and bad sleeps catching up to you. Luckily you start drifting off fairly quickly and feel more relaxed, although that could just be the alcohol helping.

“Y/n?” Natasha’s voice calls from the other side of the bed, more timid sounding than usual.

“Yes?” You answer, yawning in your attempt to regain some alertness.

“Do you ever feel lonely?” She asks.

You have to think about it for a second before answering. “Of course I do sometimes, I think everybody feels lonely sometimes. Why do you ask?”

“I feel lonely right now.” She admits.

“Why?” you say with a small giggle to try to lighten her seemingly dark mood. “I’m right here.”

“But you’re purposefully as far away from me as possible.” She pauses and you think that’s all she has to say before she continues. “I-I want to cuddle.”

Your heart clenches and you get extremely nervous. “Are you sure that’s not the alcohol talking?”

She shakes her head with an unreadable expression on her face. “I’m not drunk.” She says before turning to face away from you like she is upset. You still are nervous but don’t want her to feel upset and she did mention cuddling so you scoot yourself across the bed until you are close enough behind her that if you moved another inch you would be fully against her. She feels you behind her and turns around looking into your eyes for a second before burying her face in your neck and wrapping her arms around you. Pleasantly surprised you slowly wrap your arms around her as well, sighing in contentment when she seems to try to wiggle closer to you. You want to stay awake to fully experience this but far too soon your eyes feel heavy and you fall into a deep sleep.

You feel warmth and a press of lips on your jawline and your eyes flutter open quickly. Natasha looks up at you with an expression you can only describe as one a child wears when they get caught stealing cookies. Laughing at how cute she is you go down to kiss her on the nose at the same time as she tilts her head further up so your lips end up catching hers. You both practically melt into the kiss, sighing until a loud ring tone breaks through the silence. You groan and pick it up.

“Hey Y/n, are you done your mission yet?”

You ignore the question and put the phone on speaker so Natasha can hear as well. “Tony, why are you calling me?”

“To ask if you’re done your mission, duh.” He responds.

“Well technically we haven’t done it but we haven’t seen either of the targets.” You tell him, disappointed in yourself but knowing you followed all the orders so it wasn’t really your fault.

“Not that mission you idiot, that doesn’t exist, the real mission was did you get together with Nat?” You freeze because you weren’t sure where you stood with Natasha, but luckily she doesn’t seem to mind what Tony just said.

“Wait Y/n you want to get with me?” She says in an outraged voice with a wink to let you know she was joking. “What’s wrong with you???”

Tony audibly gulps on the other end of the line. “I’msosorryY/nanwaysI’vegottogonowbye! (I’m so sorry Y/n, anyways I’ve got to go now, bye)” As soon as you hear the line go silent both of you collapse in laughter.

“Was that too mean?” She asks, not sounding very serious.

“Nah, he deserved it, although I don’t know how he got Fury to agree.” You respond.

“Well he always was a cheeky bastard,” Natasha says, shaking her head fondly, “although I guess we do have them to thank for this.”

“Mmhmm,” you agree, “but they don’t have to know that.”

---

Taglist: @fayhar @stephanieromanoff @stop-drop-and-drumroll (if you want to be added, comment, send an ask, or message me)

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #black widow x reader #avengers #avengers x reader #marvel fanfiction #x reader

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luvidzy · 4 years ago

Text

☆ genre: fluff, flower-shop!au

☆ pairing: jin yonghoon x reader

☆ summary: a man walks into your flower shop one day and completely changes everything in your life

☆ word count: 2.3k

The sunlight streamed in through the large glass windows of the store. The AC blew a light breeze through the main room, and you allowed yourself to deeply inhale the soft floral scents of the flower shop.

You always believed that getting a job here was the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to you. It was so rare for people to find jobs that they truly loved, especially on the first try, but it seemed like you had been one of the lucky ones.

The day was fairly slow, as most of the weekdays were. A few people came in looking for bouquets for special anniversaries, or to ask about ordering a few arrangements for parties, but other than that you had been left alone to enjoy the ambience of the store and read a little bit of the book you always kept behind the counter.

You had only gotten a few pages through when the bell above the door chimed. Placing your bookmark softly into the book, you placed it on the counter and stood up to greet the customer.

“Welcome to Start of Spring, what can I help you with today?” you asked, moving to get a better view of the man that had just walked in. He was tall, with brown hair and brown eyes. He had his hands tucked into a tan overcoat, a white turtleneck peeking out from underneath it as he strolled into the shop. He was incredibly handsome and you could feel your cheeks heat up a bit as you watched him.

He turned to you and beamed. You had to shake yourself out of it, reminding yourself that you could not fall for a man that you had literally just met. He removed one of his hands to wave at you politely as you made your way closer to him.

“Hi! I need a bouquet of flowers, but I have absolutely no idea what kind to get. Do you think you could help me out?” he asked. You nodded happily, a smile slipping onto your face. You loved when customers didn’t have a specific flower arrangement in mind. It meant that you could take the reins and make something beautiful from scratch, just the way you preferred to do it.

“Sure! Usually I recommend making a bouquet of flowers that represent the occasion or what feeling you want to convey,” you explained, looking up at the stranger. You saw his eyebrows furrow a bit in confusion, and couldn’t help but giggle at how his nose scrunched as the gears in his brain turned.

“Flowers are a language. Each flower has a meaning, and even different flower colors can mean different things. It’s an amazing way to tell someone something when you can’t find the words to say it aloud,” you said, before pointing to the large bucket full of tulips that you were in front of.

“Tulips represent love, warmth, and comfort, so we usually include them in bouquets for anniversaries or weddings. Hibiscuses,” you pointed to the vibrant red flowers beside the tulips, “symbolize delicate beauty, so we include those in bouquets for dates, and even bouquets for certain family members.”

The stranger nodded, his lips parted in slight awe. He couldn’t help but observe you as you rambled on about the language of flowers, your eyes sparkling. Finally, you turned to look back up at him with a wide smile on your face.

“So tell me, what kind of message do you want to convey….?” You trailed off as you realized you’d never gotten the name of the customer that was in front of you.

“Yonghoon. My name is Yonghoon,” He finally spoke up, a shy smile slipping onto his lips. You smiled and nodded.

“What message do you want to convey, Yonghoon?”

“Well, these are flowers for some friends of mine. They have been working really hard lately with our new project, and I want to give them something to show how thankful I am. Our apartment is pretty dull, so I thought some flowers would be a good idea,” Yonghoon explained.

You nodded, taking in the information, before moving towards the counter to pull out a notepad. “Well, yellow roses often symbolize friendship, so I think those would be an obvious choice. Irises are seen as a symbol of admiration, and they’ll compliment the yellow of the roses quite nicely. And then I think some pink tulips would also fit well with the yellow and the white of the irises,” you said, jotting some things down on the paper.

“I thought you said tulips represent love?” Yonghoon said, which caused you to laugh.

“I did, but I also said different colors can mean different things. Red tulips mostly mean love, but pink tulips represent happiness,” you explained, before handing him the list you had written with the flowers and their meaning.

“Does this look good? Or would you like me to add anything?” Yonghoon’s eyes darted across your neat handwriting, before looking up with a smile.

“This looks perfect. You really know your flowers,” he joked. You chuckled, before moving to collect the flowers you’d need for the bouquet.

“I’d hope so. I’ve only worked here for 2 years.” Yonghoon laughed at your quip, his eyes following as you darted across the shop, plucking flowers carefully from their buckets and gathering them delicately in one hand.

Finally you walked back over towards him, tying the flowers together with a piece of string and wrapping them elegantly in brightly colored tissue paper.

“There, all finished,” you said, holding the masterpiece out to Yonghoon. He smiled at it, gently grabbing it with one hand. As he did, your fingers brushed and you felt yourself flinch slightly at the feeling of electricity that ran down your spine. Despite this, you forced yourself to ignore the now pounding heart in your chest in favor of grabbing the credit card Yonghoon was holding out to you.

“Thank you…?”

“Y/N,” you responded as you handed him his card back. He smiled softly as he slipped the plastic back into his pocket.

“A beautiful name. Thank you, Y/N,” he said, giving you one last nod before exiting out the door. You plopped back down into the chair as you reached for your book, letting out a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding. You shook your head, blaming your flustered state on the heat because, even though you knew the A/C was on, you didn’t want to admit the real reason for your burning cheeks.

Much to your surprise, Yonghoon continued to come in every week with a new reason to buy flowers. Each visit got longer and longer, with him asking millions of questions on different flowers to the point where you almost couldn’t answer them. However, as much as you did not want to admit it, you didn’t mind the visits he made. He was incredibly easy to talk to, his smile made your heart melt in your chest, and he seemed genuinely interested in everything that you said. Week after week, you found yourself falling deeper and deeper for Yonghoon, and every week you became a little less opposed to the idea of his visits.

Meanwhile, Yonghoon was enjoying every visit that he made to your store. His bandmates, however, could not say the same. Their dorms had been turned into a small flower shop of their own and, while it was pretty, it was not very functional.

“Yonghoon, I can’t even find a spot to put my coffee cup down on the table!” Kanghyun whined as he plopped down onto the couch next to his leader. The other boys nodded their heads in agreement, making mentions of the countless other things that Yonghoons flowers stopped them from doing. Yonghoon pouted as he slumped into his seat, arms crossed.

“But I have no other reason to go see them but to get flowers! I’m sorry that love comes at such a beautiful price,” Yonghoon huffed dramatically. Dongmyeong rolled his eyes as he sat up, crossing his legs.

“Why don’t you just tell them how you feel?” “Are you crazy? What if they say no?”

“They won’t. I’m sure they’re just as enamored with you as you are them. Come on, you can even do it in an extremely dramatic and romantic way, since that’s what you like best,” Harin argued, earning a punch in the shoulder from Yonghoon, who sighed soon after.

“Fine. But if this goes wrong, I’m never getting rid of these flowers.”

2 months after his first visit, Yonghoon walked into the flower shop already greeting you as you sat behind the counter reading as you usually did. You looked and grinned at him, the grin that made Yonghoon’s own heart flutter, before closing your book and standing up.

“Why welcome back. What can I do for you today, Yonghoon?” you asked, pulling out your pen and notepad to write down the flowers that he would need. He smiled as he leaned against the counter and smirked.

“I need a bouquet to confess to someone. I want it to be incredibly romantic, the whole 9 yards, you know?” Yonghoon said. You froze as you heard the words slip out of your mouth. A bouquet to confess to someone should not have made your heart sink the way that it did, but the thought of him romancing another person with the flowers you recommended made you want to throw up and cry at the same time.

“I… I see. Well, why don’t you tell me about them so I can recommend you a bouquet,” you asked, trying to settle your shaky voice. If Yonghoon noticed, he didn’t say anything as he continued to smile.

“Well, they’re extremely pretty and super smart. They are kind and generous, and always know how to make me laugh. I always feel warm when I’m with them, like I just drank the best hot chocolate, and they’re the perfect combination of tough and delicate,” he rambled, listing off thing after thing. Each note that you wrote down about this mystery person had your heart aching. This person sounded perfect, and you were happy for Yonghoon, but you couldn’t help but pity yourself at the fact that he was not buying these flowers for you.

“Well I think red roses are a must… and probably some peonies as well for beauty. We could add some carnations as well, if you’d like?” you asked, trying not to look at Yonghoon. You heard him hum in thought for a moment, before shifting his weight a little bit.

“I think some red tulips and maybe some hibiscuses would be nice,” Yonghoon said. You nodded quickly, writing them down, before handing the list to him with trembling fingers. His eyes scanned it like the first time he had come into the shop, before he beamed and nodded.

“Perfect!” You swallowed harshly, before moving to gather the flowers. You moved slowly, trying to stop the tears that threatened to prick your eyes with each flower that you picked up and held in your grasp.

Finally you had a bouquet of the most beautiful flowers, wrapping them gently and making them look as elegant as you could. After all, even if they were another person, you wanted Yonghoon to like them as much as you liked him.

“Here. I’m sure they’ll love them,” you said, plastering a small smile on your face in an attempt to not look as destroyed as you were feeling on the inside. Yonghoon chuckled lightly and nodded, smiling softly as he looked at the flowers.

“They’ll love them.” The credit card was exchanged, and then you both just stood there, neither of you speaking. You wished Yonghoon would just leave so you could cry in peace, but he fidgeted with the tissue paper around the flowers, his feet seemingly glued to the spot across the counter.

“It’s much harder to do this than I thought,” Yonghoon chuckled out. You looked at him in confusion, trying to figure out what he meant. It was only when you finally looked at his face, making eye contact with him, that he let a warm smile melt across his face, his hands moving to hold the flowers out.

“Is there something wrong with them?” you asked, reaching to take them and inspecting them to try and find the issues. Yonghoon chuckled, running a hand through his silky brown hair, before shaking his head.

“No, they are for you.” You felt like the world had just stopped around you. Your hands froze and you stared at him, mouth parted in surprise. These were for you? But he had said he wanted to use them to confess, and had even described the person to you!

“You were the person that I was describing, and I do want to confess. I want to confess to you,” Yonghoon replied, and you flushed as you realized that your thoughts had been spoken aloud. You held the flowers carefully to your chest, before looking up at him with eyes full of happiness.

“You idiot. You scared me, I thought you were buying these for another person!” you said, reaching out to hit his shoulder playfully. Yonghoon’s expression dropped as he realized his mistake and he sighed, before letting out a weak chuckle.

“Guess I’m not great at this confessing thing.”

“No… you’re wonderful at it. Seriously this is the cutest thing anyone has ever done for me. You used the thing that I love the most to tell me that you like me, and that overshadows any stupid assumptions I may have made,” you said. His expression lit up at your words and he smiled at you brightly.

“Does that mean I have permission to take you on a date?” He asked hopefully. You pretended to think, before nodding eagerly, giggling as you did so.

“It does, but next time buy me flowers from a different flower shop. I want to be surprised.” Yonghoon nodded happily, before he made his way behind the counter to give you a hug.

You melted into his arms, happily hugging him back with affection. There was nothing more perfect than hugging the man you loved in the place that you loved, and you were lucky enough to have that.

#onewe #onewe x reader #onewe imagines #onewe scenarios #onewe fluff #jin yonghoon #jin yonghoon onewe #jin yonghoon x reader #jin yonghoon imagines #jin yonghoon fluff #yonghoon x reader #yonghoon imagines #yonghoon fluff #yonghoon onewe

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anika-ann · 4 years ago

Text

Conundrum (A.B.)

Type: One-shot, challenge fic

Pairing: Andy Barber x fem!reader Word Count: 7700 (:

Summary: conundrum - a confusing and difficult problem or question

Andy Barber is a difficult man whom you have yet to understand. He certainly doesn’t make it any easier; and right before Christmas, he manages to surprise you again.

Prompt: You have to look for a gift impromptu

Warnings: a smidge of angst, a drop of awkward humour, mention of death (mild AU - both Laurie and Jacob!), alcohol consumption, feels, explicit language, reader gets called a dumbass... that’s it I hope, lemme know

A/N: This is my submission for the Happy Hoelidays challenge. There’s no hoeing tho, shame on me. Also, if you want some music to go with this, know that I listened to ‘God I Hope This Year Is Better Than the Last’ by SYML an obscene amount of times.

Andy Barber was an enigma.

Reporters liked to think he wasn’t; almost a year ago, they tore down all the walls he had built up to protect the privacy of his family and they shed light into startingly intimate details of his life – and where they couldn’t shed light, they used their imagination and sold it with a claim of having a reliable source. Naturally, it worked; there were always people willing to believe it just so they obtained more of juicy gossip material.

There were wanabe psychologists who would address his trauma and tried to analyse his personality, the consequences he would suffer in the aftermath of the tragedy, who attempted to strip down his soul just to get a few more reads and generally talked about him as if they were best friends, as if they knew him.

It was all a load of bullshit.

The truth, you thought, was that no one knew him. If you were being honest, you weren’t sure if even his wife ever had, truly – but that was you under the influence of the little information you bothered to gather from the influx of crap that the media provided the public with.

What you believed was that the reporters and all the self-proclaimed experts on him knew nada.

Andrew Barber was and always would remain an enigma; to the public, to the little what remained of his family after the death of his wife and son, to his co-workers – the category which included you. If you could even call yourself a co-worker; you were simply a secretary. Granted, one whose previous employer let her peek over their shoulder quite a bit so you learned a thing or two about law, but Andy Barber was the lawyer. The former DA from Boston, who moved over to rule the DA office of Portland, your home.

Even after having been working with him for nine full months, Andy’s thoughts and feelings didn’t get any easier for you to read or predict. When he wanted to let you know he was disappointed, he did. When he was truly angry with someone, well, he wouldn’t let it go unnoticed either.

Other than that, however, you would have had better luck trying to decode the actual enigma-encrypted messages sent during World War II.

Small talk didn’t last longer than three sentences from you each. Work-related affaires were discussed in his office with politeness and with calm, rather dispassionate mannerism. If you caught a hint of a smile when an important case that helped people went his way (or the office’s way really), you considered it a miracle that sent your heart reeling.

He would sometimes smile only for you if you brought him a coffee without him asking first, simply because he looked like he needed one; at those times, he would thank you softly and let slip in your first name instead of referring to you with your last. Those were your favourite moments.

Well, almost.

You found him with a tumbler and an expensive whiskey on occasion when you were leaving the office late; you never commented on it, but there were four times he actually silently invited you to have a glass with him. You refused the first time and accepted the other three.

Those nights, you got a glimpse of the mystery of a man hidden behind surprisingly soft mannerism, one which was in such a sharp contrast to his shark-like demeanour he displayed in front of the judge and the jury. His scars ran deep, his hopes had been shattered, his life in the past year as bitter as the overpriced liquor. Your heart cracked for him to the point of nearly breaking altogether.

And yet, it was beating for him too; behind all that hurt, you couldn’t but notice certain gentleness. Yes, he could be scary, downright terrifying and when his temper got the best of him, the true rage on display, he was a force to be reckoned with. But oh, that gentleness. The kind shattered soul he hid so well every morning, more so on the days right after your little heart-to-hearts. Trying to build a working relationship with him – a friendship of a sort, anything you wanted to call it – was a game of push and pull and more of a string of guesses than an effort that would bore fruit.

You might have already given up on that and instead, with the ferocity you hadn’t known you possessed, you kept punching the crush you had on him; that silly thing that would always call louder and louder after he revealed a piece of him on one of the precious nights, only to shut you out completely the next morning.

Andy Barber had never even remotely showed a romantic interest in you and by God, did you not blame him for not being interested in anyone at all as far you knew. While you considered yourself a fairly capable worker and half-decent person, you were aware you could never measure up to him. Just another reason to push down the feelings you had for him, ones that seemed to bloom with more intensity whenever he raised the corners of his damn lips, when he asked a question about you during those stupid nights as if he cared— nonsense. You had to get rid of those. He didn’t even like you, barely acknowledged you in the end. Or did he? You honestly didn’t know.

Bottom line was that if you couldn’t get close enough, then the reporters knew jack shit, no matter how much reading on him they had done or how many books on psychology, criminology and law and shit they went through. Many people knew Andrew Barber’s name, but no one could hope to know him.

And yet, those assholes still called and asked about him.

It was the fourth one that day; December 23rd, over a year from the accusation of Jacob Barber, and those fucking vultures still called Andy Barber’s office. They weren’t even good newspapers and news sites anymore; obviously, because every rational decent person would have let the poor man rest. But nope. Not them.

“Portland’s DA office, secretary of Mr. Barber speaking. How may I help you?”

“Oh, wonderful! Is there any chance I could talk to Mr. Barber personally?” the chipper of a man asked on the other end of the line and just by not giving his name, he raised suspicion; was it forgetfulness caused by his distress or intention?

Fortunately for him and unfortunately for you, you had to be polite. Hot-shot lawyers and other important people rarely returned the courtesy, but that was the world you lived in.

“There might be, Mr-?”

“Oh, Connor. Peter Connor.”

“Well, Mr. Connor, what is your legal issue?” you asked patiently, writing down his name automatically.

“Well, you see, I would rather talk with Mr. Barber about—my delicate situation, in private.”

Your eyes narrowed as you stopped scribbling and spared a brief glance towards the door to Andy’s office. It was opened ajar in what could be an invitation, but all blinds on both the door and the windows were down in typical fashion.

Talk in private?

Yeah, not gonna happen. You knew a few tricks that these assholes calling the office tended to pull and whoever this man was, you were growing more suspicious by the minute that he was not seeking legal advice.

You went back to your notes and wrote down the word liar right next to his name and a question mark. Was he a liar? One way to find out you guessed; you caught your phone between your ear and your shoulder, opening a new tab in your browser to google the name along with a wild guess of him being a reporter.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Connor, I’m afraid I will need more information before I put you through. And I will probably need to make you an appointment, my boss is a very busy man-“

“Oh, is he? Lots of cases in Andrew Barber’s new district, huh?”

The blood in your veins was set aflame even before the search was done, because in an instant, you knew for sure.

And then you had it confirmed by the results.

This jerk had even given you his real name, utterly shameless. Sure, he could have only had the same name as the journalist you found, but what were the chances? Two days after you told his colleague – who had made it through your vetting, got an appointment and even got past the reception desk before you spotted him for what he was – to get lost and not try again?

Your pulse skyrocketed along with your blood pressure. Technically, you didn’t owe Andrew Barber anything, but he was respectful enough, didn’t make much trouble and for most time, was an okay boss to you.

You owed him this much: he was a decent guy. Why couldn’t other people show a shed of basic human decency too and leave him the fuck alone?

“That depends, Mr. Connor,” you purred, barely holding the outrage locked inside. You felt both energized by your anger and achingly tired and done with humanity. You rested your elbows on the desk and leaned onto it with a sigh, massaging the bridge of your nose, eyes closed. “Is he going to have to sue your rag of a newspaper or will you and your colleagues finally get the memo and leave. His. Personal. Life. Alone?!”

You most definitely strained the last words through your teeth, but you didn’t care anymore if you were being rude. He was the fourth reporter today ready to ask about Andy’s personal matters. The FOURTH!! He was lucky you didn’t tell him to go fuck himself… explicitly.

“Are you threatening me?” the man demanded, his voice insulted, losing all traced of pretence.

As if you ever. You knew better than that, working with lawyers.

“Nice try, Mr. Connor. I will thank you to never call this office again unless you have legal issues or a relevant question which you should direct to our PR department anyway. And if you could extend this to all editorial staff, please, preferably to all editorial staff in the United States, that would be splendid. Have a good day. Happy Holidays.”

You slammed the phone down, missing the slot for it, not caring. You were sure he would hang up on his own.

“Asshole,” you muttered under your breath and hid your face in your palms, grunting, fingertips sinking into your hair.

“I hope you don’t mean me,” sounded from the doorway and you yelped, honest to god yelped and straightened in your seat, head snapping up-

-only to meet your boss’ curious gaze. Hurt and anger casted shadows over his beautiful cerulean irises, but there was no mistaking the melancholy and resignation on his face either.

“Of course not!” you blurted out quickly, panic rising in your chest.

How much had he heard? Was he going to fire you for being unprofessional? Did he figure out what was this about— of course he did, there was little room left for doubt. Your choice of words was pretty straightforward.

Andy bounced off of the doorframe he was leaning onto, not easing his stance – his arms remained crossed over his chest and had you not been so alarmed, you would have indulged in the sight of his biceps nearly cutting through the seams of his shirt.

“Why do I get the impression that whoever you were talking to was not the first person to call the office to feed on ‘the misery man’ that Andrew Barber is?” he more stated than asked, his tone unmistakably bitter.

You gulped as he approached your desk, nails digging into your palms. You had no idea what to say. Once again, you couldn’t quite read Andy; you had no idea where this was heading and how you should answer without setting him off, making him sadder or even more bitter. And without getting fired, obviously.

“I—uhm, well, I suppose you heard me, so you know he wasn’t the first—Mr. Barber. I apologize-“ His eyebrows rose a fraction and you didn’t dare to analyse why. “-if I was too loud. But--- humanity sucks.”

The moment the last two words left your mouth, you instantly regretted them, snapping your eyelids close and squeezing. You were sure you were about to have bloody crescents in your palms from your nails at this point.

Did you really just say that? To your boss, no less?

Way to go, me.

“Not wrong there. Why don’t you take your lunch break now?” he offered casually.

You nodded as you felt the tell-tale burn of tears forming in your eyes; fuck, this was humiliating. Why had he had to walk in exactly in that moment? And now using that tone?

He didn’t say anything else and you didn’t dare to look at him. Only when you heard him walk back to his office and close the door behind him, you opened your eyes and released the breath you were holding, your heart hammering in your chest.

Gulping and swallowing your tears before they could escape, you grabbed your purse and your coat, rushing out to the cold air of Portland winter.

✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧

Andy didn’t bring up the incident again when you came back. You had a short list of assignments for the upcoming days off which you went over with him before parting ways for the holidays. You mentioned you would probably drop in tomorrow despite not necessarily having to, but wished him Happy Holidays in case you’d miss him during your brief visit.

The corners of his lips twitched at that, but he wished you the same. You supposed his holidays weren’t about to be happy – more like the opposite. Last year, he celebrated with his family, even if it might have been already falling apart. This year however…

Your heart cracked another fraction for the man and you wondered if you should leave some cookies for him in the office tomorrow at least. Then you realized he would probably hate it, either being bitter about feeling like a charity case or hating the reminder of what he had lost, what wasn’t waiting for him at home anymore. Not to mention that maybe even the poinsettia, which you had placed on his office window two days ago and neither of you commented on, was already too much.

The only cookies you baked that night were the ones you knew should stay in a box with apples for over a day, the cookies you were supposed to bring to your sister’s house for Christmas, because your nephew Harry loved them.

With cheesy Christmas songs in the background and a bottle of wine for the party of one, you kneaded the double batch of dough and couldn’t but spare your achingly handsome and likely lonely boss a thought and maybe… maybe a tear or two.

✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧

The office was empty when you arrived on 24th at around half past four; everyone left as soon as possible, which was to be expected. Admittedly, despite not knowing what you would talk about with Andy, you found your heart sinking when you didn’t see light peeking through the blinds of your and his offices. You had expected him to be working to avoid being at home; but then again, you knew next to nothing about him. Maybe he was with a girlfriend. With a boyfriend. With former colleagues. With his deceased wife’s family. It was only assumption of yours that he might be lonely on Christmas.

You shook your head at your train of thought as you unlocked your office, mentally going over which files you needed to bring home, trying to eliminate the amount as not to endanger confidential information by taking them away from the safety of the bureau.

You froze in your tracks when you found a rather large piece of paper folded into a roof on your desk. A note, you realized, frowning and slowly walking to the suspicious object.

There were very few people who could enter your space, namely three: the janitor, you and Andy. The first option was unlikely, the second impossible, the third confusing. You didn’t understand why he wouldn’t just shoot you a text if he needed anything.

You halted in your steps, the air knocked out of your lungs when you noticed that the note was not the only new item on your desk.

There was a box.

A box roughly size of your extended palm. And if you weren’t mistaken… it looked like a jewellery gift box.

“What the hell?” you asked yourself breathlessly, your curiosity getting the best of you; more so as you recognized what was most definitely Andy’s handwriting on the paper.

Andrew Barber, your boss, with whom you weren’t sure what your relationship was – if there was any at all – might have got you jewellery.

Say that again?

A tiny voice in your head told you he might have just used the box for something else entirely, but that didn’t seem to be his style.

So you picked up the gift carefully, almost reverently removing the lid, your heart pounding in your chest, stomach twisting with pleasant anticipation; with the familiar rush that kids feel when opening a present with high hopes of what could await them inside.

Your lips parted in pure shock, you mind turning blank.

There were no words in English language to express how… how absolutely magnificent the bracelet inside was.

Five thin circles with symbols made of slender lines inside, looking like charms, but withing the body of the bracelet, one clasped to the next one with delicate ellipses. The metal reflected the fluorescent lights of the office, glimmering softly, appearing almost fluid, a thin stream of water trapped in a box.

You actually had to blink and it took all your willpower not to pinch yourself, because—how-

How had he known? Where had he got it? Holy mother of Jesus, how much had he spent on it?

And why get you a gift in the first place? You were… acquaintances at best. Yes, there were almost friendly moments, and then there were those nights, but this was---this- you couldn’t even---- think, apparently.

Keeping an eye on the opened box, you gently placed it back on the desk, afraid to even touch the metal itself. You blindly reached into your purse in search for your phone to dial the only number that made sense for you to dial at that moment.

It sure as hell wasn’t Andy’s.

Nothing but a dialling tone sounded for half a minute, the time seemingly endless. You fell heavily into your chair, still staring at the absolutely gorgeous and thoughtful gift.

How did he know?!

You fought the urge to roll your eyes as your sister still didn’t answer the phone and your hand automatically reached for your necklace to toy with.

And that was when it hit you.

Your necklace; one you got from your sister during the period of your biggest obsession with the Divergence series. Two arrows in a circle pointing different directions, the symbol for a ‘divergent’ person. Your eyes wandered over the five circles of the bracelet – scales, an eye, hands connected, a flame, a tree –, an incredulous chuckle escaping you.

But--- you didn’t think he would notice. You didn’t even wear it all the time, rather often, yes, and yeah, perhaps you did have a bit of a bad habit of fumbling with it when nervous-

“Hey sis! What’s up?” Amber’s voice sounded cheerily from the microphone. You jumped in your seat, startled by her as she interrupted your musing. “Please tell me you’re still coming, because Harry wouldn’t shut up about his favourite chocolate chip.”

You cleared your throat, barely able to comprehend what she was talking about, too caught up in your head.

“I—hi. Uhm- I need help actually,” you finally stuttered and you could practically feel her frown even over the phone.

“Oh? Is everything okay? You sound… a little strange.”

“That’s-“ not wrong. You scanned the office and listened in for the tinniest noise, making sure you were still alone. “I’m at the office and I--eh, I found a gift for me.”

“Awww, a secret admirer? Nice!” Amber chuckled, then abruptly stopped. “…unless it’s a stalker. You don’t think you have a stalker, right? Is that why you called me, so I could tell George? He’s not on duty-“

This time you did roll your eyes at the mention of her husband who happened to be a police officer.

“No, Amber, I have no stalker as far as I know. I’m pretty sure I can recognize my boss’ handwriting at this point.”

Nothing but silence could be heard from the other end for a good minute. You bit your lip in anticipation of… something.

And then: “You’re shitting me.”

“Not really-“

“Holy mother of-!” your sister squealed loudly and you winced, instinctively withdrawing from the phone. “Your boss got you a Christmas present?! --Wait. Is it a Walmart card? Because if it is, then this call is pointless, because that’s boring as-“

“No, Amber, he—he gave me a bracelet,” you admitted softly, your gaze once again wandering over the said object. Beautiful. Fragile. Yours, apparently. What?

When Amber only responded with silence again, words suddenly spilled from your lips, all the mixed feelings you had about receiving the bracelet released, relief singing in your veins as you vented.

“And-and it’s actually really beautiful and--- it’s thoughtful, because it has all the fractions from Divergence on it? But not like something you buy for ten dollars, only paying for the copyright or whatever and the quality is shitty, no, I mean--- it looks pretty, eh, delicate.”

It did, awfully so, which was why you still couldn’t make yourself to touch it even if you really, really liked it and wanted to do nothing but to wear it for the rest of your damn life.

“And expensive. I-- I think it might be real silver and…” you wavered, almost scared to share your last observation out loud for it seemed impossible for it to be true. “Amber, you know I looked through a lot of Divergence-related goods so I would know. It- it doesn’t look familiar at all, it’s--- I think it might be custom-made.”

You choked on the last word, tasting so strange on your tongue as you couldn’t quite believe that you were saying it. You felt--- incredulous to put it simply… and touched and- absolutely bewildered.

Silence stretched in the follow-up to your rambling and you felt your brows drawing together.

“…Amber? You there?”

“Oh yeah, I’m here,” she assured you swiftly, mischief curling around the tone of her voice like a smirk on her lips you couldn’t see. “Just wondering how could you not tell me you started sleeping with him-“

“What?! No!” you protested instantly, straightening in the chair. “I’m not—I’m not his sugar baby or whatever! This is not a ‘thank you for letting me fuck you raw’ gift-“

“Not that you would complain from what I heard and saw-“ she hummed playfully.

She was right. But shush!

“Screw you!”

“George does, that’s why we have Harry in the first place,” she sassed you. “But… sis? What kind of a gift it is then?”

And wasn’t that the question.

“I… I don’t know.”

“Well, you should, because from what you told me, you guys aren’t even friends. Nota bene, this isn’t exactly a gift you give to a friend,” she pointed out, addressing one of the million issues concerning the damn (gorgeous) bracelet.

“I-- I guess?” You were sure, in fact. This was something to give to a… well, to a lover, to a partner. “But- Amber, he doesn’t--- that’s not-“

“What did the note say?”

“Huh?”

“You said you recognized his handwriting,” she reminded you slowly as if speaking to a five-year-old. “What does the note say?”

You glanced at the note again noncommittally, remembering exactly what it said. Pretty much nothing. Definitely nothing to go on.

“Uhm… Thank you. Happy Holidays.”

There was a beat of silence, again. “That’s it?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Eloquent.” You rolled your eyes at her sarcastic tone. She should see him at court. True though, on personal level, he wasn’t exactly chatty. Unless he opened up a bit over a glass of whiskey--- anyway, she had a point, obviously. “What are you gonna do?”

That snapped you from your musing like a shot of life into your bloodstream.

“That’s why I’m calling! I should-- I should get him something too, right?” Right?! Absolutely. “Oh god, I hate last-minute shopping. And I don’t even have a fucking clue what to buy! Well, a good whiskey is always a safe bet I guess, but supporting his drinking habits doesn’t sound like a good idea. Plus, it’s kinda… impersonal with comparison to what he gave me.”

Though if there was one thing you learned about Andy Barber, it was that he could appreciate the high-quality liquor, so perhaps it wouldn’t have been as impersonal as one might think.

“Well, I don’t know him so I can’t really help, but what you got from him should definitely give you a clue.”

“A clue?” you parroted, confused.

“I don’t mean like a clue for what you should buy him. But… look, even if you didn’t suspect that it’s custom-made, which whoa, he has to pay a lot of attention to buy you something like this. Much more attention than you thought.”

“…okay?”

“He likes you, you dumbass! It doesn’t matter what you get him, he’ll be happy you got him anything in the first place!”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” you deadpanned, unsure which statement you were referring to. That he liked you or that you shouldn’t take care to choose something that would really bring him at least a little joy.

You tried your best to ignore how your heart skipped the beat at the former.

“Whatever. Harry’s throwing a hungry eye on me, I gotta go fix him a snack unless I want him to eat all the candy again. Good luck!”

“Amber!“ you called out in honest despair, panic rising in your chest, only to get no answer.

You pulled the phone from your ear to look at the screen, already knowing what awaited you.

Disconnected.

Fuck.

It seemed you were on your own. Wasn’t that wonderful?

You shot your sister a simple ‘I hate you’ text, the gears in your head already turning frantically in order to figure out what you could get Andy.

Amber replied with a set of laughing emojis within seconds. Bitch, leaving you alone to deal with a situation like this! What a sister she was.

You sighed, admiring the delicate lines of the bracelet again, torn between indulgence and guilt. There was no questioning whether you should buy Andy something too.

Say yay for the last-minute shopping for a man out of your league and whom you had no idea what you should get.

You were utterly at loss, growing anxious not only about the difficult choice of a gift, but also about possible delivery, wondering what should you even tell him and when.

Maybe though…. just maybe, you were getting kinda excited about what you were about to do too.

✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧

Three hours.

You spent almost three hours at the mall where you could barely breathe because of the crazy crowds and yet you were none the wiser; your excitement left you quickly, once again replaced by despair. It took you three hours and passing the lingerie shop four times, a shop with pieces on display that barely covered anything, intended for either bedroom games or a swimming pool, before it finally hit you.

You cursed under your breath, calling yourself an idiot in murmur loud enough to have few people around you look at you in surprise.

“Dumbass, I’m such a dumbass,” you continued your monologue as you fished out your phone, quickly scrolling through your contacts.

To say that the person on the other end was shocked to hear from you at this time of month and hour was an understatement.

“Yeah, I’m sorry, Lee. I have… eh, a favour to ask…”

✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧

You were being ridiculous.

Absolutely and utterly ridiculous as you stood on a modest porch in front of a small family house, the roof hiding you from the intrusive drizzle but not keeping you quite safe from the wind as you clutched your handbag to your side as if it was your lifeline, cursing yourself for not wearing a scarf in December.

Your nose was practically freezing, your cheeks burned from the wind and your hands were cold too, because you were stupidly underdressed; as if you haven’t lived in Portland your whole life.

But that wasn’t the main issue; an Uber dropped you off about five minutes ago and still, here you were, standing outside and trying to convince yourself to ring the bell.

The plan had been to finish packing a bag and leave around 10 p.m. to your sister’s house, where you would spend the night so you could be with her family on Christmas Day from the very beginning. But then Andrew fucking Barber, your fabulous boss, left a gift in your office, a breath-taking bracelet now sitting low on your right wrist, and it all went to hell.

Maybe you could still make it to your sister’s house – it was shortly after nine, your bag waiting on your bed, so maybe you should just call another Uber and be on your way. Maybe you could leave the silly envelope in the post-box just so you wouldn’t have to deal with Andy’s reaction; after all, he had chosen the same approach; cookies be damned, there would be more left for Harry then-

But you really, really wanted to thank him. And you might be shitting your pants, but the prospect of seeing him in a domestic environment, possibly more relaxed, perhaps nearing the man you had had the honour to see on those nights… you couldn’t make yourself to pass on that opportunity.

At the same time, you kept reminding yourself that Andy did not expect to see you tonight, he might not even be home – you were pretty sure a dim light was coming from the living room, the TV on probably, but yeah, you could keep lying to yourself – and that he might be grieving and genuinely might hate you for invading his privacy since you had to search his home address in the official documents.

Yeah, you definitely should just spin on your heels and-

“Oh for God’s sake,” you muttered under your breath and pressed the doorbell, your heart suddenly hammering in your ribcage as you realized there were no takebacks now. “Shit.”

Maybe you should just run. What if he had fallen asleep already and you just woke him up?! Oh, he was so going to be pissed and he might even show that emotion, screaming you down like he did one with that intern-

A scruffle on the other side of the door snapped you from your hopeless expectations and you sucked in a horrified breath.

And then the door slid open before you could react and you were certain you looked like a deer caught in the headlights, a semi-frozen deer to make the situation worse and--- there he was.

You quickly dropped your gaze, only then realizing how rude that was and that you should meet his eye no matter how much you did and did not want to do so at the same time. As you gaze travelled up, you found that a domestic Andy was everything you imagined he would be; black socks, loose dark grey sweats, pale t-shirt slightly wrinkled. One of his arms hung loosely by his side, the other still at the door-knob as you continued your inspection, gaze caressing the line of his bare forearm, reaching the sleeves that were hugging his biceps precisely. Broad shoulders, perfectly trimmed beard framing plush lips with the slightest hint of a curious smile.

You smiled awkwardly as your eyes met his watching you with interest, dimmed with a hint of a doze-off you must have woken him up from. You tried not to dwell on the inconspicuous redness surrounding his irises.

“I’m sorry if I woke you up!” you blurted out quickly, rewarded with a light shake of his head and a stifled yawn; subtle.

“You didn’t. Hi,” he greeted you, only to make you realize that 1. you forgot to say hi and 2. his post-nap voice was a thing from wet dreams-- which was definitely not relevant at that moment.

“Hi,” you offered unsurely, eyes roaming his face, searching for any trace of anger. All you found was bewilderment; if pleasant or not, you couldn’t tell.

“I’m sorry for barging in. I just… uhm- I wanted to thank you and-“

The hint of a smile on his lips grew a fraction, expression softening at your admission and before you could find your footing, he opened the door further, subtly extending his hand to usher you in.

Your heart skipped a beat, the strangest feeling tickling your gut, teeth sinking into your lower lip, the grip on your handbag growing stronger. Yet you accepted, taking two reluctant steps inside. The door clicked shut behind you, sealing whatever fate awaited you.

Attempting not to look too nosy, you turned back to Andy rather than scanning the hall.

Words got stuck in your throat. As tired as he looked, worn to a bone by everything but physical exercise, you couldn’t but marvel at what a handsome man he was, even without his smart suits and ties and neatly styled fluffy hair; it was still very fluffy, just more of a mess than a fashion statement.

God, wasn’t he beautiful.

He kept looking at you too in mute anticipation of something, appearing mildly lost just as you were, giving the impression of a man who couldn’t tell what to expect.

Your gaze locked with his, unyielding, a gorgeous trap and you knew you had to say or do something before your heart gave out entirely.

Your mouth opened, no words coming out and you cursed yourself, simply opening the bag and pulling out a Tupperware box with half the cookies you baked last night, practically shoving it to Andy’s capable hands.

He accepted the item with eyebrows shooting up once before settling back, eyes misting for a moment. His fingertips brushed yours as he took a firm hold of the box, the not-quite-there smile of his remaining on his lips.

He seemed perplexed.

You felt like an idiot.

“This feels so silly now,” you admitted with a sigh, realizing the absurdity of the situation only accented by the fact that you stood there in the hall of his home in your coat and high-boots, ridiculously overdressed in comparison to him.

“It’s not,” he whispered finally, forcing the corners of his mouth to rise higher. “Thank you. Didn’t know you baked. Should have figured.”

You shrugged. “Never came up.”

Something shifted in his expression as did in the air; you knew he sensed it too. The unspoken hung between you, that you meant not in your daily routine at the office, but on your private nights, so rare and precious, so desperately pretended to be non-existent the next morning.

Your gaze lowered as the silence fell on your pair again and you awkwardly shifted your weight from one leg to the other. His Adam’s apple bobbed.

“So, uh-“

“Thank you for the bracelet. Really. It was-” you licked your lips, meeting his eyes again, so deep, so blue and somehow soft and you forgot what you were about to say. “Eh- I wasn’t expecting it. I-- I didn’t think you’d… notice. And--- care.”

His brows furrowed for a bit and he placed the box on the shoe rack next to him; an action he soon regretted you guessed, because his fingers went for his wrist as if he wanted to readjust his cufflinks, a nervous habit of his, only to meet bare skin. Good to know you weren’t the only one iffy in this conversation.

“But you liked it?” he asked almost shyly and the corners of your lips rose on instinct as did you right hand, the sleeve of your coat sliding down a fraction, enough to reveal the new accessory. “Looks pretty on you.”

Your breath hitched as his fingers gently slid over one of the symbols, brushing over the sensitive skin of your wrist. His gaze returned to yours, a flicker of something heated in his eyes, calling butterflies to your stomach.

Lord have mercy.

“Thanks- uhm--- thank you. Here, I got you something too.” You quickly reached into the handbag again to hide how flustered you felt – for a different reason than awkwardness.

He had touched your wrist and you turned into a blushing mess. Fabulous. And to make the matter more humiliating, now a twinkle of amusement played in his irises.

“You gave me a plant. And cookies.”

“Yeah. Kinda? But that was more of a… gesture?” you offered reluctantly as you handed him the envelope. “I uh—this is probably stupid, but, uhm--- here.”

“Stop putting yourself down,” he muttered darkly, causing your cheeks to burn hotter. “Thank you. You didn’t have to get me anything.” Pulling out the firm colourful paper, he blinked a few times, seemingly surprised. Ha, you bet he expected a Walmart card! Instead, there was a voucher for five entrances to the swimming pool where your friend Lee worked at. “Oh. Thank you. That’s really nice of you.”

A stone the size of Texas fell from your stomach and you couldn’t help the sigh of relief. Andy seemed genuinely pleased by your choice of gift and you felt your whole body relax.

“It’s just… eh, just for half an hour each and you can pick them on a horizon of three months. I’m not sure how often you like going, so… uhm, my friend works at the place, so you just give her a call and it shouldn’t be a problem to book it for mornings right before the opening hours,” you explained lamely, earning a puzzled look.

“How did you know I liked going when no one’s there?”

That caused one corner of your lips twitch in slight amusement and your eyebrow arch, even if his reasons weren’t exactly funny; his cheeks flushed a hint of red, a sight to behold for more than one reason. It was nice to have the roles reserved, you making him feel flustered for once.

Really? The rather quiet lone-wolf Andy Barber, followed by reporters still, just asked you this? Cute.

“…that’s fair,” he said and for a brief second, you were afraid you had shared your thoughts out loud. But he didn’t look offended, so probably not. The self-awareness then. “Thank you.”

“No problem. I’m-eh, glad you like it.”

You stood there again, both smiling – a little reluctantly, a little soft – and once again you had no idea how to proceed.

What you did know was that you enjoyed talking to him, even if it was awkward like this. You enjoyed seeing him in his natural habitat, in his home, relatively relaxed. You thrived seeing more of this Andy Barber, just a handsome guy, not Andrew Barber, the hot-shot lawyer.

He was the first to break the silence, hesitantly gesturing further into the house.

“Would you—would you like to-“

YES! was what you brain screamed.

“Oh, I don’t want to be a bother…” was what you told him, mentally cuffing yourself on the head.

“You’re not,” Andy opposed lowly. The whisper of your name that followed made you shiver.

His gazed trailed all over your face, so intense you would swear he saw right into your soul and further. You felt naked, but for some reason not too vulnerable – Andy seemed to like what he saw, expression genuinely inviting and yet. Yet there was a subtle promise of this not being a friendly invite which was as exciting as unsettling. The air appeared the crackle and you found yourself yearning to taste the electricity on your tongue.

“May I?”

He beckoned to your coat, suddenly free hands already rising and all you could do was to nod, automatically placing your handbag on the floor and unbuttoning the garment. Once if fell open, revealing simple black jeggings and a light pink sweater, Andy sidestepped you, fingers sliding under the hem, cautiously skimming over the bare skin above your collarbones, leaving a burning sensation in their wake.

The warmth of his fingertips seeped into your flesh and yet you shuddered, goosebumps rising on your skin.

You watched Andy put your coat away with care, turning back to you torturously slowly. He filled all of your personal space, so close and too far. You weren’t sure when exactly the air turned so heavy in your lungs, but as your gaze travelled to his lips, not missing how his sought yours in return, you felt all the oxygen leave the room.

“Andy,” the word rolled off your tongue, nothing but a soundless breath of his name.

His gaze flickered from your eyes to your lips again and back before he spoke, voice barely above a whisper, hoarse.

“Am I imagining it?”

He didn’t have to say what and still you knew with absolute certainty that he was addressing the unbearable and delicious tension, the one that had been building and coming to life during those three nights you had spent talking in his office late--- and now it was back with smouldering intensity.

“You’re not.”

You shivered and gulped when he cautiously took a single little step further into your space, your gaze falling to his chest, lowering in sudden surge of the deep-rotted insecurity, whispering about your and his world being thousands of miles apart. And yet, your heart raced in anticipation, your hopes dizzyingly high that you might touch heaven, even if for a few moments.

When his fingertips grasped your jaw, tough light and oh so careful, your eyelids fluttered close, already indulging in the sensation. God, his touch was so soft despite the roughness of his fingertips…

As if he wished to torture you or to indulge that sweet little moment before lips met lips, he stopped an inch from his destination, his breaths as wavering as yours, the words whispered straight into your mouth just a little broken.

“I’m fucked up.”

Your brain basked in blissful fog, but this got across, causing you to tense briefly.

You couldn’t deny what he was saying, you both knew he spoke the ultimate truth – well, you guessed. What had happened to him, having his life dismantled and then losing his family, that sort of thing was bound to leave a scar. Confirming it bluntly though, that felt unforgiving, only adding insult to injury.

“We all are,” you whispered instead, not only because you wouldn’t say ‘fucked up’, the words too harsh.

And it wasn’t trivializing the tragic turn his life had taken. It wasn’t downplaying the depth of his wounds. It wasn’t necessarily implying that you had been through something equally horrible either. Most importantly, it wasn’t you mocking him.

And somehow, he understood that; even if he could have interpreted it in every wrong way imaginable and shove you away, insulted, disgusted.

But no, in that fleeting moment that meant everything, Andy understood that this was your acceptance; this was you telling him that you were willing to try; take whatever he offered and give anything you could in return.

Finally, his lips brushed over yours, slightly chapped and oh so warm and delicious, withdrawing too soon, leaving you to savour the taste as your ran your tongue over your own lips. You inhaled shakily, overwhelmed by everything that was him, powerful, electrifying and then your hand was somehow on his chest, your palm laid over his racing heart, your fingers twitching as his ribcage expanded with a sharp inhale.

Blindly, your mouth searched his again, his whiskers tickling softly and scratching at once, a pleasant sensation on your sensitive skin as he grew bolder, and truly attached your lips in a kiss that made you feel lightheaded with the emotion poured into it. Your hand curled around his nape, an instinct to pull him closer, fingers toying with the short soft hair there, drawing a hum from within the expanse of his chest.

You granted him access to your mouth when he wordlessly asked, but it was him who retreated shortly after that, his heart now appearing as if in pain with its furious beats under your palm. His breaths started coming out short and it dawned to you what was wrong. How fast this could have felt to him, even if he was the one to start it.

‘I’m fucked up,’ he had said. Too caught in the moment, you hadn’t fully realized the extent of his words perhaps.

But you did now – at least a little better than before.

So when he rested his forehead against yours and a breathless ‘sorry’ slipped from his lips, you shook your head lightly and planted a kiss on his cheek, hand still on the back of his head, fingers running over his scalp in a hopefully soothing motion.

“I’ve got you, Andy. You lead.”

You had no strength to keep him close when he pulled his face away, your eyes snapping open in fright that you had said something terribly wrong.

But Andy’s cerulean eyes were big and glassy, grateful and softly speaking about him being… moved by your proposition. Your heart felt like it just grew twice its size, too big to fit into your chest at what a breath-taking picture he was.

The next thing you knew, he dropped a chaste kiss to your forehead and pulled you into his arms, an almost protective embrace, kissing the top of your head for a good measure and you melted against his large frame, smiling into t-shirt.

“Thank you,” he murmured breathlessly into your hair and your smile widened, remembering the note he had left with the exquisite gift that had started everything that led you right here into this moment.

“Happy Holidays.”

Thank you for reading! I’ve been sitting on this since the beginning of damn November. I hope you enjoyed.

It was my first (and maybe last) time writing Andy, so I hope it was alright. Feedback always appreciated.

P.S. – sorry if the nosy reporters thing offended you.

P.P.S. - …I know, the prompt was veeery loosely filled. Shush.

Pretty divider by whismicalrogers.

#happyhoelidays2020 #andy barber x reader #andy barber imagine #andy barber x you #defending jacob #post defending jacob #andy barber #holiday fic #christmas fic #andy barber fluff #andy barber angst #andy barber fanfiction #andy barber fanfic #fanfiction #challenge fic #conundrum #anika ann

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newbeginningsforever · 5 years ago

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UPDATED: An Extremely Thorough Analysis of Episode 9 - Adrian’s Story

@espanholina asked me to rewatch the show and re-evaluate what really happened between Takka, Sumi, and Adrian. This is about the sex/non-con scenes in Episode 9.

UPDATED: My theory here is confirmed to be correct by the director, Sam Deats. He said this in a Twitter post.

(On a completely unprofessional and inappropriate note, doesn’t Adrian look just positively glorious in orgasm? Wow...)

**TRIGGER WARNING FOR NON-CON/SEX AND SPOILERS**

(Rewatching Season 3)

Let me preface this by saying that I am a bisexual person and I have experienced both consensual sex and non-consensual sexual situations (with men and women) in my life. I’m also the same age as Adrian would be and I have the same personality type. Okay, analysis time…

These are my opinions about what Adrian is thinking and feeling during the controversial sexual scene:

First, let’s look at the meaning of rape in terms of deception (which is the only type of rape that might apply here): “Rape by deception is a situation in which the perpetrator obtains the victim's agreement to engage in sexual intercourse or other sex acts, but gains it by deception or false statements or actions.” To be honest, I had no idea this is technically rape until today. It means tricking someone into sex, basically, even if they want to have sex. So basically, Adrian is giving consent, but because he was deceived in order to give consent, it is a form of rape. That being rape by deception. This is very interesting. A lot of characters in TV shows are rapists then if you really think about it. For some examples: Chandler and Joey from Friends would both be rapists because they assume false identities and use fake names to sleep with women, Saul Goodman from Better Call Saul would also be a rapist because of deceptions in order to get sex, Don from Mad Men, etc. Really, if we think about the story, their deception started long before the sex scene and continued throughout because they came to murder him and just used sex as a ploy to get him in a vulnerable position. They knew Adrian is extremely lonely (and horny, oops sorry) and used that to their advantage. I think they knew Adrian would consent and that’s why they came up with the plan.

Detailed scene analysis: Adrian can’t sleep. When Takka and Sumi enter, he looks a little surprised and concerned. He asks what is wrong. Sumi and Takka conceal their blades and consecrated handcuffs behind their backs and drop them on both sides of the bed out of view of the camera. Alucard doesn’t notice. When they put their hands on his chest and say “You’ve been so alone,” he visibly blushes. I didn’t actually notice that until the second time. I rewatched this part a lot to try and gauge his emotion - in my opinion, it’s pleasant surprise and mild shock. He looks possibly hopeful and unsure about what is happening.

When Sumi says that it’s time for his reward, Adrian’s eyes quiver and he breathes shakily, his mouth agape when they push him down onto the bed. When Sumi kisses him, and he’s shocked at first, but then he reciprocates. He’s still shocked afterward, clear by his expression and wide eyes. When Takka strokes his cheek and leans closer, Adrian actually rises up to kiss Takka. Adrian initiated the kiss with Takka and he pulls him closer right away - there is clearly (uninformed) consent and initiation at this point on Alucard’s side for Takka. I don’t understand why Adrian would actually lift himself up and initiate the kiss with Takka if he didn’t want anything sexual/romantic to happen. If someone has a different opinion about that please let me know what you are thinking.

Is it possible he simply wanted to please? I mean, that’s possible, but Takka and Sumi came into the room by saying that “it’s time for his reward”. If he didn’t want to be doing this, would he really be initiating a kiss with Takka and pulling him in close? I don’t think so. I think Adrian is definitely bisexual and I think this was his first kiss with a man (maybe with anyone). I definitely think he’s a virgin because he’s so young and so socially isolated. Throughout this scene, Alucard’s (uniformed) consent is up to interpretation because he never stops them or protests, and yet we cannot know what he is thinking at all. The expressions of ecstasy and agony/discomfort are almost the same for many people, so it’s hard to say. Also, it’s safe to say that Alucard’s not experienced with sex or with anyone being close to him, so he could be consenting and shocked/nervous at the same time. I think Adrian is so desperate for affection, sex, and love that even though he might not feel entirely comfortable, he still wants it to continue. He wants friends, he wants to be fucked and cared for like most of us do. It seems, in the next scene clip, that Adrian is holding Takka’s waist while Takka does something - not really sure what, probably gives him a handjob. Sumi takes off his nightgown and Takka gives him a kiss. Adrian’s eyes widen in response. Sumi kisses him while topless, and his eyes are still wide with his eyebrows drawn up. This could be shock or possibly discomfort, more likely shock. When Sumi comes closer, his eyes return to normal and we see him grab Sumi’s ass and pull her towards him. Then, Adrian kisses her neck and fondles her naked breast. So, he seemed shocked at first, but then definitely consenting (by manipulation of course). I think the shock here is probably because of three things: he didn’t expect this sudden three-way sex, he’s a virgin, and he didn’t think that two people would want to have sex with him. Most people think he’s a monster, after all. He pulled her closer and initiated this foreplay, so I think he did want to do this (of course, I’m not in his head, so I can’t say for sure - this is just my best guess). I think his loneliness, horniness, and affection for his new friends is trumping any discomfort. That’s my opinion based on his personality and life story.

Adrian, Takka, and Sumi are naked together. Adrian has his arm wrapped around both of them. Adrian kisses Sumi while Takka kisses his neck and gives him a handjob. Takka kisses down Adrian’s stomach down to his cock. The camera pans to Adrian’s face and he’s hard to read. He basically is blushing, but otherwise emotionless, and then he cries suddenly. (The first time I 100% thought that this was because he felt amazing, and he was so grateful and contented to finally be receiving the pleasure and affection he deserves - I still think that might be the case here)

UPDATE: I was right, and his crying is confirmed by the director to be tears of joy.

I watched it a couple of times. It’s certianly possible that he’s uncomfortable/scared/afraid/freaked out, but I still would guess that he’s crying because it’s feeling really amazing and healing for him. Having sex for the first time (if not all the time) is very emotional for us INTJs (Adrian and my personality type) because we rarely let ourselves be vulnerable around others. We’re not used to being close or connected to other people, and we are often lonely, so sex can be totally overwhelming for us. It can also be a weapon used against us (like it is here) because we are usually so lonely and longing for affection. I think Adrian is taking what he can get. I definitely think he wants this here, but that’s up to debate.

Next clip: It looks like Takka and Sumi are taking turns going down on Adrian (giving him head). He is shaking visibly and his expression is strained. Now, I’ll be honest this doesn’t seem out of place in a sex scene, especially for the first time. (TMI= The first time someone went down on me I think I had a similar expression - it’s kinda nervewracking to be so vulnerable. Also, having two people go down on you at once? That’s got to be nervewracking, hence the shaking) Takka kisses down Adrian’s inner thigh and goes down. He seems to be rimming Adrian (licking his asshole) in the next scene, while Sumi gives him a handjob. Their expressions are starting to get progressively creepier. But Adrian is too caught up in pleasure to notice, I think. Adrian seems absolutely overwhelmed with pleasure in the next shot, breathing heavily - I think he’s about to orgasm. Takka lifts Adrian’s leg up, presumably so he can penetrate Adrian. He seems to enter Adrian in the next shot, but it’s off-screen. Sumi gets on top of him and pins down his arms, possibly having intercourse with him at this point. It’s not very clear. Anyway, they’re having sex/raping him.

Final clip: Adrian is gasping, flushed, and coming down off his orgasm. Takka nods to Sumi that it’s time to kill Adrian. Adrian looks to see what they are doing but it’s too late. It takes him a moment to understand that they’re trying to murder him. (I’m going to cry again, oh my sweet Adrian! I’m so sorry baby you didn’t deserve this at all)

They betray him. Adrian closes his eyes so he doesn’t have to see them die. He turns away.

Adrian whispers finally, “I never lied to you.”

\\author’s side note\\ YOU ABSOLUTE ASSHOLES I HATE YOU SO MUCH YOU FUCKING BITCHES HE TRUSTED YOU AND YOU ARE RUINING HIS LIFE YOU DICKS HE DIDNT DESERVE THAT GO BURN IN HELL AND TAKE DRACULA AND LISAS PLACE YOU FUCKERS.

So, anyway, my final opinion is that Adrian is giving consent, but it is not informed consent (because Takka and Sumi are deceiving him), and therefore, it is rape. If you want the specific term it’s rape by deception. They lied about being his friends and allies, so they deceived his trust, given that their true intention was to murder him.

{Sam Deats has confirmed this theory on Twitter. Thanks to all of you who supported me on this.}

He deserved better.

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coeurdastronaute · 4 years ago

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Essays in Existentialism: Plus One, Ch. 2

Previously on Plus One

It oscillated every other minute between being an amazing idea, but also being the worst idea of all time, and Lexa was mostly exhausted of bouncing back and forth. It might be easier, she decided, if she just got herself on board with it being a good idea, but a deep, gnawing hole seemed to manifest itself in her gut at the very thought of seeing her ex.

As she went through the motions of finishing the day, of doing inventory because it was Wednesday, Lexa tried not to distract herself with the thoughts of her impending trip. In just forty-eight hours, she’d be face to face with Costia, who she hadn’t seen in months, who she avoided before occasionally running awkwardly into each other at mutual friends’ events. She’d come face to face with her ex who was getting married.

And she was going to do it with a complete stranger on her arm.

With a heavy sigh, Lexa tossed her clipboard on her tiny desk in the storage closet and plopped down in the squeaky chair, tipping it back with a wail. Her sister was the worst.

It was quiet in the shop, closed for just a handful of hours, Lexa always took a day to inventory and repair the damage of the week. She enjoyed the late evening work, when her workers were gone, and the shop was empty and full of dreams. No one knew how the cabinets stayed so clean, or how the scratches on table tops got sanded and fixed, or how the wobbly table by the window was miraculous cured one day, or how the ceiling fans got dusted, just that it all happened, and Lexa was off, meaning she didn’t come in until at least ten, the following morning.

But Lexa sat in the chair and let her brain do the same mental gymnastics it always seemed to do in the new quiet she found herself craving. She opened her laptop and ignored the awaiting spreadsheet, and instead opted to look over the answer Clarke had given her to the “Know your partner” quiz Clarke googled and made them both do. A mix of basic information and Newlywed Game style innuendos, Lexa filled hers out after a bottle of wine and anxiously waited for Clarke’s.

That was what started the daydreaming. She scrolled through Clarke’s answers and furrowed, doing her best to memorizing all that she could, as if she’d be tested on it all, as if it’d be impossible to believe she could be happy with someone like Clarke.

And when those thoughts started to seep into her brain, Lexa leaned back again and dug the tips of her fingers into her eyes.

In a week it’d be over.

And with that and a deep, heavy sigh, Lexa looked at the screen again and went about learning Clarke.

She started professionally, of course, looking at her corporate page and resume, because this was, if not anything, simply a business transaction and Lexa thought it was easier to parse a person if she didn’t actually have to fall for her.

A graphic designer at Anya’s firm, Clarke held accolades and a long list of references. The link to her work showed a wide range of commercial campaigns and a certain amount of talent evident by her list of upcoming projects. A graduate of a small, private, liberal arts university, her academics leaned heavily scientific, which was a surprise until Lexa read some of the answers in the survey about a degree in physics given up for art.

Lexa promised that she wouldn’t have looked at Clarke’s Instagram if Clarke hadn’t requested her first. She wasn’t someone who lurked, or at least she thought she wasn’t. She didn’t want to be someone who snuck around, digging through someone’s past, analyzing every filter and caption like a private investigator. But then Clarke appeared.

And there were pictures of Clarke with friends getting drinks on a rooftop. And then the one with her laughing and baking. Or the Christmas party where she was on a corporate Santa’s lap, smiling so wide her eyes were shut. Despite herself Lexa found herself smiling along with the girl in the pictures. The one who went hiking with a pack of dogs, and the one who seemed to always be eating something. The one who had a lot of friends and enjoyed making them smile and laugh. The girl who posted storie about her morning run, and the girl who seemed to have a healthy work life balance.

Lexa closed the webpages and stared at her inventory for exactly two seconds before curiosity won again and Lexa started looking at Costia’s account. There were the standard pictures of her pre-wedding planning. There was Costia working out. There was her new bride-to-be, happy and smiling at a gift for her birthday.

And then a throwback that made Lexa’s stomach drop as she stared at a familiar image of Costia smiling in a bikini on a beach. It was from the last trip they took. Lexa was the one behind the camera.

Three weeks after that picture was taken, Lexa walked in on Costia and a girl in the middle of the afternoon. Right in their own bed. Only to then discover it’d been going on for months. And it wasn’t the first. And then, Lexa didn’t remember much except that she moved into the apartment above her coffee shop and woke up one morning alone on sheets that weren’t familiar, in a room full of boxes.

It seemed even more difficult to start inventory after that shot to the gut.

But her phone went off, and Lexa leaned back in her chair after shutting the laptop again, wondering if that sinking feeling ever went away when it came to someone you love, or loved, or once loved, even for a moment. She didn’t have anything to compare it to, and she didn’t have any idea what love really was.

It felt like a deep wound was scratched open, the scab pulled back, and a burning numbness gnawing at the bottom of her spine. It felt like it would swallow her whole, and Lexa hated, more than anything, giving anyone the power to do anything as such over her.

Hey! Do you think this will go with your outfit?

An image came next, of Clarke in a dressing room wearing a very pretty dress, with very messy hair with her tongue sticking out. Lexa didn’t notice the gnawing feeling disappear.

We don’t have to match completely.

We do! Don’t you know how to date?

Not really.

Another picture of another dress came a moment later. Clarke was pretty. She was happy and silly and kind. It felt oddly normal, for as crazy as the whole scheme actually was.

I like that one, Lexa wrote, making sure to add a heart-eyed emoji to emphasize her point. Maybe that was flirting. Maybe she was allowed. She definitely needed more rules.

Good, I do too. It matches your tie, you know? And these heels will still leave you a little taller than me.

Sounds good to me!

Kind of excited. I guess I’ll see you at the airport tomorrow.

I’ll be the one at the bar.

I’ve heard it’s possible to find your soulmate at the airport. Something about the crossing of paths and time and space.

If my soulmate is a bottle of wine, then I reckon I might.

A love story for the ages.

Lexa smiled once more at her phone before tossing it to the side and letting her head drop to the desk. With a groan she growled into her hands and broke it down. She just needed to make it seventy-two hours. That was it. She could sleep for about twenty of those. She could drink for another twenty or more, if she really tried.

But this was it. This was the end.

And regardless of the weight of everything else, there was something satisfying about knowing it was almost over.

XXXXXXXXXX

The airport was absolutely teaming with bodies and people, weaving their way through the swelling crowds, loading and unloading the terminals at a constant, steady thumping rate, so regular one could set a watch to the heartbeat of the building.

Clarke adjusted her bag on her shoulder and tapped the ticket against her thigh as she moved through the security line. The nerves were coming for some reason. That was why she was at the airport three hours before the flight. She was anxious and needed a stiff drink and a few moments to catch her breath. She needed to escape the whirlwind she’d allowed herself to create.

Carefully, she made her way through the airport, checking the boards and finding her way to a seat in the empty waiting room. Not even an attendant waited at the kiosk.

Once again, she let herself awkwardly scroll on her phone, learning everything she could about her future date and weekend plans.

Lexa was nearly non-existent online. She didn’t have any pictures of herself. She rarely posted anything on her personal account, and when she did, it was just a book or a coffee or from a trip. She wasn’t one to enjoy being the center of attention, but when it came to her shop, she made sure to post almost daily, highlighting her employees and their recommendations, she made share to highlight events, she made sure to be as active as possible.

Anya had already warned Clarke that her sister was devoted to her work. She’d poured all of her effort into being successful and part of the community, and Clarke admired it, she just wished that there was more for her to see.

And so, once more, she flipped back to the long line of questions they’d filled out before giving up and gazing out the window at the planes coming and going.

For a moment, she allowed herself to think that she was doing something nice and good. It was an act of charity. It was the shake up Clarke needed and was selfishly trying to package as benevolent.

“You beat me, and I’m usually the first one here for a flight,” Lexa observed, walking up to Clarke, stealing her from her reverie.

“I like airports. Just waiting for true love to stroll up and introduce themselves.”

Lexa shoved her hands in her pockets, her bag balanced on her shoulder as she cautiously looked around, surveying the empty terminal slowly. Clarke watched her look around, smiled at the innocence of it. Enjoyed the way she ran her hand through her hair, mussing it up a bit and tossing it to another side.

“No one likes airports,” Lexa shook her head before taking the seat beside her.

“I do. They’re romantic.”

“Romantic?”

“You can get onto a plane, and a few hours later, you’re hundred of miles away, and it’s different weather, and it’s a different time zone. You can go to sleep in a different state. How can you not be romantic about that.”

“It’s a tin can filled with recycle air.”

“But there are peanuts.”

That did it. Lexa cracked a smile to herself and relaxed a little.

“I was going to be the first one here. Surprise you with coffee, but you beat me to it.”

“You are quite a good girlfriend. Someone clearly trained you well.”

Lexa shook her head, somewhat bashful, somewhat reserved. There was always something right there, just below the surface, obfuscated by a kind of resolve to never give anything away, not at any price. Clarke read it between words in their texts and emails, a glaring finality in the simple pixel of a period.

“Can I get you a coffee? Two creams, two sugar right?”

“You don’t have to--”

“It’s early and I’m trying to be charming. Allow me to somewhat repay you for this whole endeavour.”

“Sounds good. Thanks, darling.”

With the term of endearment, Lexa nodded, grinning into her chest as she stood and made her way across the terminal in search of sustenance. Clarke watched her take out her phone, texting her sister no doubt.

Once more, Clarke resumed the digging on her own, scrolling on her own phone at old pictures on Lexa’s profile. She was ready for fun, and she was ready to crack at that facade.

“I don’t know if this will help,” Lexa sighed as she sat down. “I didn’t sleep a wink last night.”

“Oh this won’t be good for me either,” Clarke said as she took a sip. “I’m a fairly nervous flyer.”

“And yet you let me get us both coffee.”

“You made a good point, and I’m prepared to be paid back all weekend.”

With another grin, Lexa leaned back, her arm going on the back of the chair that Clarke inhabited, naturally, with ease, with a level of comfort.

“Are you ready to tell me the story?”

“Which one is that?” Clarke turned to look at her date, returned from an absent moment.

“How we met.”

“How we met,” she nodded, her smile bordering on mischievous. “That’s simple. Don’t you remember? It was a very blustery Tuesday, and I was trying to escape the wind and rain. I almost tripped coming into your coffee shop, but you happened to be sweeping, and were kind enough to catch me.”

“You’re severely overestimating my reflexes.”

“Fine. I ran you over and we both ended up on our asses in the middle of the coffee shop. Coffee everywhere.”

“Sounds pretty likely.”

“And I knew right there, I was hooked. Those eyes, all angry and annoyed at me for not looking where I was going, despite my persistent defense that I’d been assaulted by the weather.”

“Why do I have to be the angry one?”

“Wouldn’t you be though?” Clarke returned, daring her to be contradicted.

“Maybe,” Lexa agreed over the lid of her cup, fretting with it nervously.

“So I crashed into you, and you bought be a coffee. I turned up every day after that until I finally asked you out. You took longer than I would have liked to answer me, but I accepted it anyway, and we’ve been madly in love ever since.”

“And when was this?”

“About eight months ago.”

“How’s it going so far?”

“Splendidly. I’ve already met your sister, who it happens that I work with, which is super convenient for everyone.”

Quietly, Lexa sat there, going over the story, going over all of the past eight months of apparent bliss in her head. Clarke watched her furrow before softening, her eyes not seeing, but rather looking through the window as a plane took off and another landed. The softening of her features was soon met with a perplexion, a slight, gentle contortion of the brow and the lips, a tightening as a kind of confusion overtook the ease of the entire story.

“Is it that easy?” Lexa asked quietly, turning her head toward her date. Clarke cocked her head, waiting for more. “Is all of it… just… a wind? Waiting for someone to just ask you out? Is it that easy? Does that happen to people?”

“It can. How does anything happen in the world? It just… does. The universe is just a series of things happening, all of the time, right?”

“But is it that easy?”

To her credit, Clarke thought about it. She flexed her jaw and took a deep breath before slowing letting it go as she wondered if it really was.

“I don’t know. Maybe it can be.”

“How?”

“I guess there has to be a balance to making things happen and letting things happen.”

“I don’t know if I’m good at either of those things,” Lexa confessed. She sat up straighter a moment later, afraid of her honesty, and surprised more by how easily it came out.

“I think you can be.”

“That’s probably too kind.”

“We’ll see.”

Clarke rubbed Lexa’s shoulder, rubbed the middle of her back between her shoulder blades until she reached the collar of her shirt, where she massaged her neck. She tensed before relaxing, and Clarke didn’t stop, just rubbed there gently, slowly until she knew it was enough and she trailed her palm back toward the seat.

It was right there, they just didn’t know it.

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bluebellwriting · 4 years ago

Text

Love Me Tender Part 5

Walking down the street is harder without your own personal Radio Demon parting the crowd for you, but you make do as you near your sister’s boutique. At first you wanted to be alone, but that’s kind of hard in the most crowded place in the universe, and as you continued on your mindless walk through the Pentagram you realized that being alone might not be the best thing. What you needed right now was a hug and someone to tell you that you deserved far more than whatever Alastor could give you. You couldn’t be alone with your thoughts right now.

The neon from Molly’s sign hurts your eyes from a block away, and like moths to a flame shoppers flock towards the pink light. Molly’s Miracles is the place for those in Hell with an eclectic style and a preference for the sexy. It’s very rare that you find yourself actually stopping by for a reason other than checking in on your sister, but that excuse will have to do for now.

Just like the sign, the amount of glossy white furniture and sequined clothing forces you to blink and adjust your eyes. There aren’t too many people inside, thankfully, just a moth demon posing for her friend in a red dress with the deepest v you’ve ever seen. Not your thing, but the friends cheer and squeal at the sight of it, so Molly must know her clientele quite well.

“(Y/N)?” Molly emerges from the back, her arms full of some green, glittery fabric. She all but drops them on the checkout counter so that she can properly engulf you in a hug. It’s scary how fast she can traverse a room with all those legs, but your desperation for a proper hug is too great to be startled right now.

“I didn’t know you were coming by today!”

“I just,” you sniff, “wanted to check up on my baby sister.”

“Aww that’s so sweet!” She squeals. “But I thought you were out with a certain you-know-who? Is he here?”

You shuffle out of her arms and embrace yourself with your own.

“Who told you that?”

“Angie did. Text me this morning that you too had a little date,” she coos.

Of course Angel would find a way to blindly inform your sister about your love life. Except that it wasn’t your love life. Just life. Normal, regular, loveless life.

“He just happened to have some business to attend to at Rosie’s at the same time as me.”

“But he walked you there.”

“Molly--”

“And he didn’t have to! But he did! That is so cute!”

“It’s really not, Molly,” you grumble and move deeper into the store. You trail your fingers through the silks and tulle, pretending to be interested in something from the wracks when you and Molly know there’s only ever one article in the store at a time that you would actually wear.

“You okay, hun?” She trails you through the store.

“I’m fine, Mol. Just fine. I made a great deal today, dad will be really happy. Things are going well at the hotel.” You turn to her with a sigh, hoping with expulsion of breath you will also rid you of the sobs bubbling up in your throat.

It works for a minute.

“I’m fine. I’m doing fine.” Your voice cracks at the end and Molly rushes you again, except this time you’re also being surrounded by the moth demon and her friends who apparently can’t mind their own business.

“Oh sweetie, did he hurt you?” The moth asks.

“Men are fucking pigs!” One of her friends -- a wolf -- cries.

As these complete strangers surround you with man-hating indignation, Molly rubs your back and strokes your hair.

“I-It’s okay. It’s just a guy,” you gasp.

“That’s right, it is just a guy. You don’t need him and his nasty ass.” Another friend -- a blowfish -- says as the rest of the friends and your sister release you from their grasp but remain in a circle around you like some Sisterhood Against the Radio Demon.

Oh, if only they knew that was the man they were bad mouthing right now. Actually, you kind of wish Alastor was here right now. You’d pay money to see his reaction to the Sisterhood calling his ass “nasty.” Probably confusion, mostly.

"You know what you need,” Molly chimes in. “A new outfit!”

The friends cheer and you really wish you could just melt into the clothing racks. They’re all sweet, impossibly so, for helping out a complete stranger just because of the universal experience known as “guy problems.” But the last thing you want is to be surrounded by eyes scrutinizing your body in new clothing. Your heart feels like it’s about to implode in on itself and if one person says anything about your love handles or your back fat you are definitely going to ignite this entire city block on fire.

“Molly, that really isn’t necessary--”

“I know the perfect thing! You just head back into the changing room,” she says, making her way to a shelf of silk blouses. Your eyes dart to the door, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Molly.

“Don’t. You Dare.” Her eyes flash a brief red, so you shuffle over to the changing rooms.

---

Alastor sits in Rosie’s office, well, it’s more like he’s lying down on her chez, moaning towards the ceiling, and clutching his gift to you tightly as if it were the last piece of you he had left.

Rosie watches him from her desk, looking wholy unimpressed by this display from the all-powerful Radio Demon.

“Why did I even--”

“I don’t know, Alastor.”

“I never should have--”

“No, you shouldn’t have. As intelligent as you are, dear Alastor, you can be exceptionally dumb.”

Letting out another long whine, he grips the gift box harder and rolls over onto his side. He’s an Overlord. He should not be debasing himself like this in polite company. Or anyone’s company for that matter. But this is Rosie, who was for so long the only person in the history of human existence who he could trust with his truest emotions. But even this exhibitionary indulgence is a new milestone in their relationship, one he wasn’t even ready to take right now. He can’t help it though. Not when his heart feels like it’s being gripped and twisted between two fists. Not when his stomach has taken on this horrible, aching feeling, as if he’s being repeatedly kicked there.

The worst part is the empty feeling that has been growing deeper and wider since you left him at Rosie’s. For so long now it’s been just this nagging little spot that formed when you first met, situated in the center of his chest, reminding him that he no longer owns the piece of himself that once filled it. You do. And as long as you were with him, close to him, that hole stayed the same, was comforted by its close proximity to its missing piece. But now you were gone, and the hole has become so gaping and so hollow without you, with the thought of truly losing you forever.

“You could always go find her,” Rosie implores, shoving away the paperwork she’s fruitlessly been trying to complete.

“She said she wanted to be alone,” he moans.

“And since when were you one to respect others’ personal space?” She doesn’t get a response. He just rubs his face deeper into her chez, ruining the fabric with his blubbering. Part of her wants to relish the sight of her egotistical, maniacal, normally heartless friend reduced to a weepling in front of her. But the bigger part of her just really wants to get back to her work and Alastor’s need for validation is in direct conflict of that.

“Alastor,” she sighs, “I know she wanted to be alone, but honestly, this might be an appropriate time for you to tell her how you feel. Or at least to try and remedy the situation a tad.”

Alastor sits up, shoulders hunched.

“Really?”

“Yes, you emotionally obtuse oaf. Go! Be romantic! Be spontaneous!” Get the Hell out of my office, she wants to add.

Rosie goes over to him and all but yanks him off the chez. She places a jovial arm around his shoulders but is shoving him quickly through her store, past her girls, and outside.

“Good luck, darling!” She calls as she pushes him onto the street. He whips around, eyes briefly flashing her his radio dials but her motherly wave quickly reminds him of the task at hand.

The dials disappear but he shoots her an uncharacteristic glare before he puts on his smile. He summons a shadow to traverse the Pentagram in search of you. As his shadow wiggles off, he begins his stroll through the streets roughly in the direction you were heading.

---

Molly brings you a red silk blouse and a red and black plaid pencil skirt. They seem modest enough but you dread the way the skirt will make your curves look, the lumps and thickness it will accentuate. The blouse is nice though, if not a bit tight around the stomach, but it makes your chest look amazing. You try looking for the flared skirt you came in with, but not so mysteriously, your clothes seem to be missing. Thanks, Molly.

You have two options now. Go out into the store in front of strangers and in front of the giant windows Molly has in the front, or squeeze into the skirt, suffer through it for five minutes, and then demand your clothes back.

Once you actually have the skirt on it’s not... that bad. It digs into your waist just a tad, making your back straighten to make breathing easier. The fabric is thick, wool-like, but soft to the touch. It comes to your knees, probably the only skirt in the store that does so, and much to your surprise, it smooths out every piece of pudge even without tights. You look at yourself in the mirror and you look... lovely. Elegant, with a hint of sexy that looks good on you for once.

Peaking your head out of the room, you see Molly and the group of friends -- Ramona, Hugh, Paul, and Chandler, you’ve since learned -- eagerly eyeing the dressing rooms. They’re all sitting on the pink, crushed velvet couch Molly has set up for shoppers, their knees bouncing with anticipation.

You move your body out inch by inch, as if to step out of the room too quickly would cause your body to burst into flames. The closer you get to the main room, the hotter your body burns with embarrassment, the harsher the feeling of invisible eyes feel on you. You know that Molly won’t tease you, that she is a constant purveyor of how naturally gorgeous you are. But somewhere in the back of your head, the harsh words of your mother hammer away. You can just imagine that Ramona and Hugh and Paul and Chandler and whoever peaks through Molly’s windows will have some awful things to say. It wouldn’t be anything new, you’ve heard it all. Doesn’t mean you want to keep hearing it.

Molly spots your hair poking out of the doorway and squeals. Your “new friends” squeal in response and then it’s just a chain reaction of everyone squealing and cheering at you. You creep further into the room and Molly pushes you the rest of the way onto the fitting pedestal.

“Do a twirl!” Molly yells and the rest of them start chanting until you do, in fact, twirl on the pedestal. More squealing. Their joy and support become infectious, and slowly you pull your arms away from their place shielding your stomach.

You look head on at the three full length mirrors set up opposite the couch, you don’t shy away. You’re loving how you look in this moment, you find it impossible to fixate on the lumps and bumps anymore. It feels as though you made to look like this, still so completely you and yet as beautiful as you always wished you felt. It’s perfect now.

“Go off, girl!” Chandler yells.

“Your man is going to wish he had you back,” Hugh cheers.

“If he bothers you again you call us and we’ll all beat his ass,” Ramona says and her friends whoop in agreement.

Behind you, you can hear the jingle of the bell hanging from the door. Raising your head to stare at the door through the mirror, (e/c) eyes meet glowing red ones, wide with shock. He has a sheepish smile, not all teeth like his “going out” smile, but just as wide. He has that damn box in his hands, his claws tapping the sides.

Everything goes quiet and you might as well have been the only two people in the room. Molly ushers Ramona and her friends into the back room before the terror can fully set in and you’re grateful. You don’t really want anyone nearby for whatever is about to happen.

Once everyone is out of the line of fire, you sigh and turn to face him, willing the confidence from your little fashion show to sustain you for just a little longer.

“Alastor.”

He doesn’t say anything back, eyes still trained on you, because what is he supposed to say? ‘I’m sorry for taking you to a cesspool of women thirsting after me?’ ‘I’m sorry I’m such a tainted, wretched soul who is so undeserving of you?’ ‘I’m sorry I’m too much of a coward to tell you I love you?’ He pulls the box closer to his chest.

“You look stunning,” is all he can muster. Not horrible, probably not the best thing either, though.

“I know,” you say back, keeping your face stern.

His smile grows wider but remains sheepish, maybe even bashful, which is impossible because when has Alastor ever been bashful?

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” he murmurs.

“I’m really fine, Alastor,” you lie. “You don’t have as much of an effect on people as you think.” Another lie.

“There are millions of dead souls who would beg to differ but--”

You send him the most seething glare you can muster and he pulls back. He looks back down to the gift, eyeing it as if it has all the answers, the map to getting back what’s been lost between you.

“I apologize if you were uncomfortable. That was not my intention.”

“I wasn’t uncomfortable,” you seethe. “I wasn’t anything except tired and overcome with a desire to see my sister.”

“You’re a horrible liar,” he says as he starts to roam around the store while remaining a safe distance from you. In the mirror, you catch the red glint in your eyes and blink to force it away.

Words start to pour from your mouth, recklessly and unhinged, “And you don’t owe me anything. I don’t need you following me around town after I explicitly told you not to follow me. I don’t need you to “escort” me to meetings just so you can see your girl toys. I’m not an excuse, I’m not a guise. I can take care of myself, lord knows I’ve done so for decades without you.”

“I know.” You were expecting the room to burst into flames and for the sound of radio static to overwhelm you, not for him to remain smiling down at the floor, albeit with a hint of melancholy.

“You know?”

“I know.” He starts to take small steps towards you. “I know you don’t need me, you proved that today. You are more than brilliant and poised and powerful in your own right. I know that. But I’m afraid that what has happened is rather the opposite.”

He makes it to the pedestal and even with the extra inches you are barely as tall as him. But he has never seemed so small to you in this moment.

He is not a man who cowers, he does not beg, that shows weakness and he learned from a young age that you cannot afford weakness. Don’t show your neck, don’t bow your head, stand as tall as you can and bare your teeth. He can’t do that, though, not with you. What you need is openness and vulnerability from him, signs that you bring out something that no one else can.

“My dear, you do not need me,” he whispers and holds out the box to you. Somehow you tear your eyes away to focus on unraveling the bow and peel back the packing paper. There, glittering on a small slice of foam, are two necklaces: one a heart with a keyhole cut out, the other, the matching key.

Alastor dips two claws into the package and takes with him the heart-shaped lock, and to your surprise, he clasps it to his own neck.

“But I, dearly and desperately, need you.” He plucks the key from the box and holds it out to you in the palm of his hand.

“Alastor...”

“You can say no. You can throw this in my face and I won’t stop you,” he smiles sadly. “But you will always, in a way, have it. You will always have me.”

You’re not an impulsive person, not really, and not compared to your siblings and friends. Now that you think about it, you’ve never actually had an urge like that. Until now. Until the feeling of something glowing and bright moving up from the pit of your stomach, through your throat and your vessels until they reached your chest.

You surge forward, pull him down by his lapels, and kiss him. He tenses initially, and you hear the familiar pop of a radio cutting in and out, before he melts against you. One arm encircles your waist and the other goes into your hair, keeping you securely against him. The kiss itself is a little sloppy on his part, inexperienced and cautious, which makes sense considering his aversion to intimate activities. But there’s a relief in the inexperience, in knowing that you’re one of, if not the, first one to do this with him. It doesn’t go any further than passionate lip-locking, but the way he clings to you and you to him, like two cogs sliding together, is more than enough for you both.

When you pull away he chases after you and his arms tighten. He’s not quite ready for you to be any less than a few centimeters from him. You release a giddy giggle and lean your forehead against his own, noses nuzzling, heartbeats sharing. You feel cool metal against your neck and look down, spotting your half of the necklace resting against your chest.

“We should go,” you whisper.

“Mm, go where?” He asks as he begins to sway your entangled bodies back and forth.

“Somewhere far away from the eager ears of my sister.”

Alastor’s ears perk up and his eyes dart to the back room, where he can just catch a retreating shadow, presumably belonging to Molly.

“You might be right about that, dearest.”

#alastor x reader #alastor x Chubby!reader #x chubby reader #x chubby!reader #hazbin hotel #alastor #they say write the stories you want to see

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kaimelia · 4 years ago

Text

enough for you (ch 3)

a/n: okay. disclaimer: I did my best to get inside of link’s head with this and. what he might be thinking but I am super paranoid about this fic making amelia seem really bad. and I have made like 5 people read it and they said it didn’t but. i’m still worried about that. so just know that my intentions with this were not to slander amelia just to give link’s perspective of this okay thank you :)

---------------------

Link had always been terrified of falling in love because, in his mind, love always led to pain, divorce, and a million other terrible things. For a while, he was convinced otherwise; waking up beside her every day, dancing around their kitchen, and raising their son together was what brought him more joy than anything, but now he knew it was true.

He tried to think of where it went wrong, where he lost the woman he loves, when their relationship fell apart without his knowledge of it.

He thought of the other week when he came home after a long shift and curled up next to her in bed, just for her to scooch away from him and press her face into her pillow. He had just thought she had a difficult day and didn't push it.

Or before that, when he had gone over to Jo's just to receive a phone call from Amelia, her voice wavering as she asked him to hurry home and take Scout because she needed to go to a meeting. He'd brushed it off as stress from work; she'd lost a patient the day before, and he knew that she was upset about it.

Even earlier, an attempt at a night for themselves, he ordered from their favorite Italian place, set the table, lit candles, and coaxed Scout to sleep an hour earlier than usual; Amelia had come home just to get upset with him over changing Scout's sleep schedule, not even touching her food before she fell asleep on the couch, telling him to leave her alone for the night.

Link thought that she was just stressed. He was stressed, more than he had ever been in a long time, and he just wanted to be there for her because he thought that if anything was happening, they could get through it together.

They'd spent so long pent up in Meredith's house, bumping into each other with every step, drowning in homework assignments and board games, that the time they got to spend alone was precious and rare. He learned to comfort her with small motions, check in on her, and manage the stress in their lives.

Until she shut him out. They moved out of Meredith's, both ecstatic to have their own space, and for the first few weeks, it was just that. Their arguments were short and sparse, over his choice of outfit for Scout, how low she let the gas tank get, or other meaningless arguments that were quickly resolved. They lived in a happy bubble with just their own little family, and it was everything he could've wanted.

And then Amelia started going back to work. More days than not, which he was fine with, but she was always exhausted when she got home and seemed annoyed with him most of the time, and his attempts at consoling her only seemed to worsen the situation.

He tried to balance being there for her with being a friend to Jo, who was struggling since her application to adopt Luna was rejected. She asked him to help, and Link couldn't say no. He wanted to help; he had seen how dark things could get in Jo's life, and Link had become her greatest support system since Alex left, and Jo was always there for him.

Amelia seemed hesitant; whenever he brought up Jo, she would sigh and lost some interest in the conversation, and fostering Luna was just one thing to worsen the situation. Things were tense for months until Jo was given custody, and he was no longer legally responsible for the baby. He expected it to get better, for Amelia to return to who she was before he fostered Luna, but she never did.

There were happy moments, for sure. When Scout took his first steps, Link was sure he had never seen Amelia smile that widely, and when he babbled his first word, Amelia was overjoyed to hear him say 'Mama.' On Christmas, she was so happy to be around all of their family, and had clapped in excitement when Owen proposed and spent the car ride home ranting about how romantic of him it was. Link bit his tongue and nodded along, not wanting to reveal his own plans.

He didn't understand how she could be so excited for someone else's happiness but not for her own. She absolutely loved being around all of the children in their family, but he came to assume that she didn't want any more kids after she once informed him that she was having cramps from having an IUD put in. And that was it; she didn't want to talk about it or tell him anything about her decision on it.

She clearly didn't want to talk about her response to his proposal, either. She had stood there in silence as his stomach sank, and he stared at her for a moment before realizing he wouldn't receive an answer, a reason, or anything to explain what was wrong. He felt like he was moving in slow motion as he walked away, ignoring whoever was calling out for him as he retreated to his car, not even knowing where he would go.

Jo said it was fine to stay at her place; after all, he had done the same for her the previous year, and Link finally felt of use as he was able to ease some of her parenting qualms and help settle Luna in.

He had gone back to their home, quickly throwing clothes into a duffle bag, grabbing his guitar and anything else he wanted, leaving the rings on the counter. Let her see them, he thought. Let her know that he was here, that he wouldn't be staying there, that he didn't want to keep the rings because truthfully? He never wanted to look at a stupid engagement ring ever again.

He should've listened to everyone around him; he'd seen Jo's terrible heartbreak right in front of his own eyes and chose to think that the same would never happen to him and Amelia.

But it did.

All he wanted was to go home, wrap his arms around Amelia and Scout, and kiss her forehead, just to have a moment of normalcy before reality came back. He wanted to take back the proposal, fix their relationship, and figure out how to help her and be there for her.

Yet, he couldn't bring himself to get up and shave his face, and as much as he wanted to go find his son and hold him tightly, the idea of laying on the couch for another hour was so much more appealing.

Jo had asked him countless times if he wanted to fix things with Amelia. She insisted that they could repair things, but Link shrugged off all of her comments, grabbing another beer from the fridge and returning to his makeshift bed on the couch.

He didn't know if he wanted to fix it because why try to fix something that's just going to break over and over again?

When he stood outside in the rain on Meredith's porch and yelled about how much he loved her, he thought that it was proof that nothing could ever end their relationship, that nothing could make him feel as sad and hurt as he was without her.

He felt all of that pain now. But now, he felt it because of their relationship, because of how they left things, because of everything that went wrong, and now the thought of being alone was more appealing than trying to hear out an apology.

Because now, he knew, that love ended in pain. No matter what, love would lead to pain and heartbreak, no matter how much he tried to fix it or convince himself otherwise. And, what was the point in hoping for heartbreak?

#amelink #amelia shepherd #amelia x link #amelink fanfiction #atticus lincoln #grey's anatomy #amelink fanfic #greys abc #greys fanfic #scout lincoln #scout shepherd lincoln #jo wilson #my fics

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the-silentium · 4 years ago

Text

Masterlist

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Reincarnation!Reader

Words: 2755 words

Warnings: TUA season 1 and 2 spoilers, violence, blood, mention of torture, swearing, angst.

Requested by: @asphodelshare

Hi! I read your Five fics and I like your style of writing! If it’s not too much to ask, could you write one where Five had to leave the reader back in the 2019 Apocalypse bc he didn’t have a choice. He then sees her 1963 counterpart, she doesn’t know him and he tries to stop himself from reconnecting w/ her but he can’t help himself. It’s up to you if it’ll end on a happy note or an angsty one! Xx

A/N: The Eternals are my personal touch, so I guess this should be considered an AU of some sort. I'm sure this wasn't what you thought would happen, I'll be frank, it wasn't what I thought either 😂 The end just wrote itself! And it wasn't what I had planned. Ouups.

He tried. Really, he tried. Ever since the first time he saw you walking in the street wearing a school uniform, a school bag hanging loosely on your shoulder and a lunchbox in hand, Five had had a hard time resisting his need to run to you and hug your form with all his might. Granted, Five had no proof that the girl walking away from him was this time-line version of you, she could simply be a perfect replica of your 15 years old self with the same habit of drawing on her school furniture, the same bright smile and the same bewitching laugh. Yes, she was just a replica. A too perfect replica.

Five forced his legs to take him away from her walking form and tried to push the girl at the back of his mind. He had to concentrate on his task to stop the new apocalypse and return back in 2019 where he left you.

It never was in the plan to let you die under the meteor shower that ravaged the Earth, if anything you were at the top of his list of people he had to save. Unfortunately Five came to the conclusion that the past was a place way too dangerous for you to venture, add this to the Commission who would surely double down their effort to kill the Hargreeves and whoever helped them, your chances of dying in the past were way too high for his liking. The boy would never be able to live with himself if you were to die permanently in the past and not for only a few days in 2019.

For a whole day, Five managed to forget about the girl and his feelings altogether. Alongside Diego, he broke into their father's company building and discovered some precious information. The part of the night involving the younger Pogo let him a bitter taste in his mouth but it didn't stop him in the slightest. Back at Morty's, Five was almost surprised to find his brother still breathing on the couch, his new partner in crime cauterizing his bullet-wound.

"Did you cut yourself shaving? I can teach you to shave like a big boy." Sighing the boy put a gaze to the bleeding scratches burning his neck. All he could hope now was that Pogo didn't give him Herpes B.

"No, I just ran into an old family friend." Five turned around towards the kitchen in hope of finding a perfectly brewed coffee pot. He groaned in disappointment when he noticed that not only was the coffee pot empty, but Elliott wasn't tied in the chair anymore.

"You untied him?" Five shot Lila a brief glance before returning his attention to his surroundings, listening attentively to any sound allowing him to pin-point the man's location.

"No. Was I supposed to?"

Ignoring her question, Five made his way to the rooms down the hallway. He never ventured there before, he assumed that the three doors lead to a bedroom and some storage rooms filled with conspiracy theories just like the living room. Turns out he was partially right.

Elliott's bedroom was empty, the bed still undone. The next door opened on a black room with pictures hanging on the walls and dyeing material placed neatly.

From behind the last door, Five could hear two distinct muffled voices. He recognized the first one as Elliott's but the second one made him frown in concentration. It sounded familiar even though he never really talked to anyone from this time-line other than Lila and Elliott.

Confused, Five opened the door, not prepared at all to see you standing in front of a seated Elliott, the two of you arguing in hushed voices. The cracking door alerted you, your angry gaze instantly found him, standing in your doorway with his mouth slightly opened in shock like an idiot.

Five gulped as you made your way to him, there was no way that she wasn't you. Not only did she look exactly like you, but her pissed-off expression was the same as the you he knew. Your fists were tight at your sides, no doubt giving you the courage to not back down before him, your furrowed brows created little wrinkles that Five desperately wanted to ease away by a light stroke of his fingers and your eyes. Oh your eyes. How he had missed their spark.

“Who are you?” You harshly asked while poking his chest with your delicate finger.

Five had a hard time keeping his arms to his sides, preventing them from pulling you into a tight hug that you were sure to hate. Instead, he breathed in deeply in an attempt to calm his frantic heart. “E- What are you doing here?” He mentally cursed the slight waver in his voice, then again, you tended to have that effect on him.

“I live here. Why are you here?”

He was at a loss of words and couldn't help but stare at you in disbelief. You lived here?

“Oh. Yeah. Sorry.” Elliott stood up, his anxiety showing in the form of a hand scratching the back of his neck. “This is my daughter Y/N. Y/N this is- this is- eh. He’s one of them.”

You even had the same name! It finally clicked into Five's head. He had heard of the rare phenomenon back in his days at the Commission, someone extremely important to the balance of the time-line would reincarnate after each one of their deaths to keep the time-line on track. Those very few, only eight in the whole world, were constantly chased by the Commission who in the beginning tried to discover the secret of their perpetual rebirths but then changed their goal to killing them as soon as they could when they discovered that the reincarnations could remember their past and future lives. Five had always thought that the Eternals, as the Commission called them, were just a story created by bored time analysts to kill time.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, a small smile slipped out of his control at the perspective that this was really you right in front of him, his best friend, his confidant, his partner in crime and the object of his affection.

“The name’s Five.” So far you didn’t seem to remember him. Maybe you were too young or it was too soon. He had no idea how your condition worked.

"I don't care, asswad. You and your friends tied my father to a chair-" Five's heart stopped at the insult modern you used to call him all the time when his shitty attitude managed to get on your nerves. As much as he hated the nickname, he couldn’t help the rush of excitement he felt when he heard it. You may be starting to remember your future even if you were unaware of it.

"He tried to shoot us." Five deadpanned quickly remembering why they tied the man in the first place.

"You are in our house!"

"He invited us in." Okay, this one was a lie. Five had space-jumped in first, but then Elliott hadn't kicked him out so he would consider it as an invitation to stay.

"Dad!" You turned to the embarrassed grown-up, disbelief written all over your face.

Five decided to let them argue alone and go control his ever growing feelings somewhere else, preferably somewhere you were not. Walking back to the kitchen to finally make himself some coffee, Five thought about how he could help you remember who you were- no, will be.

“What’s the beeping?” Lila’s voice broke through his reasoning, catching his attention when she poked the computer screen.

Five made his way toward the machine, a grin stretching his lips. “Vanya.” In a second he jumped away, carrying on with his plan to gather his siblings.

It was only two days later that he saw you next. You were eating your breakfast while quickly scribbling on a poor paper sheet, your foot bouncing rapidly on the floor as the seconds passed. Five was watching you over his warm cup of coffee, swiftly averting his gaze whenever you would lift yours. An elbow hit his shoulder, almost causing him to lose his balance and fall on the floor, wasting his precious black liquid.

“What?” Five snapped at Luther after making sure his drink didn’t spill over his hand.

“Why is Y/N here?” His whispering was not subtle at all although luckily for the blue-eyed boy, the sizzling eggs covered the excessive sound.

Five went to his brother’s side, turning his back to you in the meantime. “She’s not the same Y/N. Well, she is but-” He groaned at the complexity of the situation. His brother would definitely not understand, so he went with the easy way out. “Long story short, this is her past life. Now stop talking abou-”

“Oh, hey even your little girlfriend made it here.” Diego joined the conversation without a care in the world. He grabbed a plate along with some toast before dropping them at Five’s outburst.

“She’s not my girlfriend!” He could feel his body heating up despite his best efforts.

All three of them tensed for their own reasons yet they all not so subtly turned their heads in your direction. If looks could kill, they would definitely be at the verge of death.

“I’m not his girlfriend.” Five just received his killing blow.

You hurriedly grabbed your bag under the table and rushed out of the room, paper in hand. The silence following your exit permitted your last words to bounce in his head, hurting his feelings like nothing before. If he could gauge the pain he felt at this right moment on a scale of 1 to 10, he would say that without a doubt this was a 10.

What you said was the plain truth. In any lives of yours did you and him became a thing. It didn’t stop the fact that after all these years suppressing his romantic attraction toward you, Five had nurtured the hope that maybe one day, you two could be more than friends. Today this hope just blew up in his face, mauling his heart in the process.

So in the blink of an eye, the boy disappeared from the kitchen to live his pain alone, away from prying eyes and the pity of his brothers.

Later that same day, Five was nursing his seventh cup of steaming coffee of the day when someone sat next to his own spot on the second floor, legs dangling in the air where the floor stopped to show the once TV shop. He sipped on his coffee as an attempt to show them that he wasn’t interested in the slightest in what they had to say, needless to say that it didn’t work. He should be used by now, it never worked.

“I’m impressed that you didn’t die from a heart attack or something. Your blood pressure should be pretty high with all the coffee that you drink in a day.” He nearly choked on his sip when your soft voice reached his ears.

He turned to you, baffled to see you smirking at him. Not angry. Not annoyed. Playful. "You know, if you weren't from the future and weren’t endangering my father by your mere presence here, I would have loved to be your friend."

Just when Five thought that he couldn’t be surprised anymore! "How do yo-?"

"Klaus doesn't stop talking about how he misses youtube." The boy sighed, clearly his brother couldn’t keep his mouth shut. He wondered if sewing his mouth shut would suffice to shut him up for good. Knowing Klaus, he would definitely find a way to express himself without his mouth. “Also I remember you, asswad.” You bumped his shoulder with yours before crossing your arms on the railing before you and resting your head on them.

His eyes went wide, the meaning of your words slowly registering into his brain. He turned to you, trying in vain to not get his hopes up about your remembrance. A very genuine smile stretched your lips, making Five almost drop his mug on the floor below. He then realized that if you could remember your future life, then you surely remembered your future death and with it, how Five abandoned you to your demise. Guilt pulled at his heart at imagining what you went through because of him and fear darkened his heart at the thought that not only your past self would hate him but your modern self too.

Something on his cheek caught his attention, the delicate stroke of your fingers awoke a fire under his skin when he noticed your gesture and the concerned frown disturbing your perfect features. This time around he couldn’t stop himself and reached forward, smoothing the creased skin with a light brush of his fingertips.

“I’m sorry.” His hand dropped in defeat at his side, his gaze fleeing yours.

“What for?” You asked, genuinely confused.

“I abandoned you to die.” His voice was so small, saying it aloud made him doubt his choice. He closed his eyes tightly to keep the tears away, his remorses started eating him alive.

You moved closer and took the mug out of his hand when it was within your reach. You disposed of it before wrapping your arms around his waist and put your chin on his shoulder. He didn’t open his eyes, instead closing them tighter to the point that he started to see stars dance behind his eyelids.

“You.” You blowed on the side of his face. Once. Twice. “Hey you. Open your eyes.” You sighed when he merely relaxed his facial muscles but kept his eyes shut. “I understand you know? You had to. I’m not mad.”

You proceeded to poke his cheek when the absence of reaction on his part was starting to get on your nerves. “I’m talking to you, asswad!”

You gasped when Five suddenly turned his head to the side and connected his lips to yours with force. His hands found the side of your face to keep you close when his lips moved with yours in a desperate motion, as if you would vanish at any seconds. At one point, the kiss stopped tasting coffee, a salty taste replacing the strong addicting aroma.

Slowly Five pulled away to discover tears running down your cheeks. His first reaction was to close his hands into fists wanting to jump away and remove his damned heart from his chest with his bare hands. As the blue waves flowed around his fists, your lips stretched in a smile stealing his breath.

"Took you long enough." Your almost imperceptible whisper was so loud in his ears.

A smile mirroring your own formed on his face, he was beyond the moon all the while asking himself how he could have been so stupidly blind to your feelings.

"We got there, that's what's important." You hummed in agreement before repositioning your head on his shoulder and contemplating what next.

A few days passed and Five along with his siblings met their father. Needless to say that it went down pretty quickly. For some odd reason, Five found himself thinking that it could have been worse. Someone could have died. Or hurt. Everyone was in one piece if we didn't count Diego's soul.

Space-jumping back at Morty's, Five thought that he was horribly wrong. Elliott's body laid in a chair obviously having been tortured before being executed. As much as the boy wanted to feel bad for the man who played such a great role helping him reach his goal, every thought that passed through his mind was directed at you.

Five yelled your name before jumping from room to room before he noticed a crimson red trail leading to the black room.

His shaking hand grabbed the handle of the slightly opened door, pushing it with a shaky breath escaping his lungs.

If it wasn't of your school uniform you were wearing, Five couldn't have said for sure that this broken body was yours. The obvious torture you went through got him on his knees, water pooling from his eyes like two rivers.

He was wrong. So dearly wrong. This, right now, was the worst pain he ever felt. He didn't even have to open his chest to relieve himself of his excruciating pain for his heart had completely stopped at the agony scaled to 11.

#five hargreeves #five hargreeves x reader #number five x reader #number five imagine #the boy #tua s2 #the umbrella academy #this is angsty #and it was supposed to be fluff #my bad #luther hargreeves #diego hargreeves

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chimmyrockbison · 4 years ago

Text

MASTERLIST Updated 03/20/2021

COMPLETED AO3 FICS [Kim Taehyung/Park Jimin]

1. The Sound of Your Heart

Summary: There was something so easy about it, it was almost scary. Taehyung didn’t want to feel this way, didn’t want to feel this overwhelming fondness; but not unlike his head, his heart was hard to persuade once it had decided a path. And Taehyung was scared that it had decided on the mute new boy with pretty features and a warm smile.

Words: 144,014

2. All the King's Men

Summary: Castle servants Jimin and Taehyung find themselves involved in a game with the Crown Prince.

Words: 52,531

3. golden haze

Summary: Taehyung watches Jimin’s mouth twist into a pout, forming the word ‘fucking’ with his thick lips before he’s whipping out his translation device again. Taehyung doesn’t have time to stop him when various pornographic images pop up on his holographic screen, Jimin’s eyes widening with intrigue, his mouth falling open at the suggestive images in front of him.

(or: lonely college student taehyung harbors an alien fugitive in his apartment. nothing goes as planned.)

Words: 34,850

4. Drag'on Together (Love Is Its Own Magic)

Summary: “I swear to God, Taehyung if you stop to pick up one more rock because you think it might be some sort of rare stone, I’m leaving you here,” Jimin huffs as he tries to sound intimidating.

“Jiminnie, we both know you wouldn’t survive a minute without me, so stop with the empty threats, okay?” Taehyung replies, happily ignoring his dark-haired friend.

Jimin would argue, he would, if it wasn’t for the fact that Taehyung was right.

The time Taehyung and Jimin finds a blue rock and it turns out to be so much more.

Words: 30,554

5. even the weariest river

Summary: It's moments like this that make Taehyung panic. The open derision on each courtier's face, the scorn of his brother as he turns from his prey. The slit of Park Jimin's eyes, just barely open and dark and hateful, as Taehyung swallows and squares his shoulders and says—

"I want to claim him."

The tides of war change, and sweep Taehyung and Jimin along with them.

Words: 152,979

6. i fell in love with the pizza delivery guy (and then i blew him in the bathroom)

Summary: Send your best delivery guy. Preferably cute, preferably packing.

“You're the one who ordered me,” Taehyung says. Not exactly a question; more of a statement.

“Well, I ordered pizza; you just happen to be a delightful bonus,” Jimin clarifies, lips drawn up in a smirk that sets Taehuyung’s blood on fire in a most delectable way. “Although, had I known a pretty face like yours was working there...maybe I would have been more specific with my instructions. At least I know for next time.”

(or, Jimin orders pizza and a little something extra, and Taehyung delivers without really knowing what he's signing up for)

Words: 18,438

7. Grand Jeté

Summary: Refusing to spend another night alone, Taehyung surprises his perfectionist of a boyfriend Jimin at his dance studio with the intent of dragging him home. But their pent-up emotions from spending time apart has the visit ending with a lot of kissing and a little experimenting.

Words: 8,200

8. Already Midnight

Summary: On New Year's Eve, Taehyung is drunk. So drunk that he doesn't recognize Jimin as his boyfriend. When Jimin kisses him at midnight, Taehyung threatens to call his man- aka Jimin.

Words: 3,951

9. Worth The Risk

Summary: The rules are simple: no kissing on the lips, no petnames, no cuddling after sex, no sleepovers, no labels, and no catching feelings.

It should be simple. In fact, it would be simple, if it weren’t for one tiny thing...Taehyung is pretty sure he’s in love with Jimin. And that’s absolutely against the rules.

Words: 23,645

10. Common Ground

Summary: Taehyung is rich, a little bit bratty, a lot a bit spoiled, and failing calculus. Jimin works full time, tutors, and is a straight-A student. There's a rulebook somewhere that states very clearly that people like Jimin should never associate with people like Taehyung. But rules are meant to be broken. And opposites always, always attract.

Words: 44,136

11. This is not a dream

Summary: He would think they were ships in the night if not for the fact that every night, Jimin lays his head in Taehyung’s lap and Taehyung runs fingers without nerve endings through his hair. If they didn't have this false, teasing closeness long enough to learn every detail of each other's lives, long enough that Jimin is the person Taehyung spends the most time with by a mile.

(Jimin leaves. Two months later, he falls in love with Taehyung.)

Words: 12,370

12. Shooting Stars and Silver Moons

Summary: Yoongi and Jimin make a bet, Taehyung makes bad decisions.

(Or: "I'm kind of pissed you didn't choose me to fake date, I'm your best friend")

Words: 20,206

13. the whole world is blue

Summary: Taehyung is not going to confess. That kind of thing never ends well. The movies are wrong. It doesn't always turn out to be mutual. Real life isn't so romantic like that.

Words: 10,829

14. Swipe Right

Summary: As a best friend, Jimin will do anything for Taehyung. This includes being his fake boyfriend to ward off the unwanted attention Taehyung is receiving after using a dating app and agreeing to meet someone.

Words: 26,085

15. Define Me in Terms of You

Summary: This is either Taehyung's greatest idea, or his worst.

“So, let me get this straight. You want me to teach you how to play guitar, join a fake band and enter a competition just so that you can impress a guy you like?"

Words: 9,808

16. i just adore you asking for more

Summary: Taehyung is a successful model looking for a discreet release. Jimin is a professional dom who won’t judge his browsing history.

Words: 90,201

17. Sirius

Summary: "Dude, our entire relationship could be an Ed Sheeran album."

Words: 16,955

18. it's your heart i wanna live (& sleep) in

Summary: The first time Jimin sleeps over at Taehyung's, it's an emergency. The other times after? That's a different story.

Words: 22,658

19. kissing up on fences (and up on walls, i don't want to fall)

Summary: They’ve always been close, Taehyung and Jimin. Where one went, it would be rare to see them without the other. This is a fact Namjoon knows better than most, having coexisted with them in close quarters for such a long time.

Namjoon had not, however, for all his proclaimed wisdom and prudence, had the foresight to see that they’d become this close.

(or: the five times the other members thought they were dating, and the one time jimin starts to wonder if they really are)

Words: 8,738

20. The Usual

Summary: Alternatively titled: The Regular

Jimin will date anyone, except for boys who serve coffee.

Words: 27,935

21. i'm so sorry but it's fake love (tbh, not really)

Summary: when chaebol/commitment anti-fan park jimin learns he's being married off, he does the smartest thing in the world: hire a fake boyfriend he found on the internet (aka Craigslist's personal ads)

all he needs is just three months with said fake boyfriend to convince his parents to leave him alone. after that, he'll get back to his regular programming.

except, not really.

Words: 209,565

22. Gravity//Oxygen

Summary: He already lost his parents.

He'll be damned if he loses Jimin's smile too.

We stay together.

Always.

Taehyung is out for revenge. And he'll do anything to get it.

Words: 180,321

23. A Screenshot of Youth

Summary: There’s a sharp intake of breath, Taehyung’s grip tightening over Jimin’s with a gentle squeeze. “Jimin,” his voice is serious, and Jimin watches him, strangely endeared. “Let’s be friends.”

And it’s like this, that they begin as friends in the heat of a sweltering summer, twelve years old and too young to think much of it, hands twined together under the blanket of a setting sun.

(In which Jimin and Taehyung grow up together.)

Words: 18,496

24. i'll take the desert, you take the coast

Summary: “Everyone I know is a candlestick nearing its demise. They’re afraid of bringing meaning into their lives, of cultivating that glow. But you, prince Park Jimin, you are different. You glow with the passion of more than a thousand suns.”

Words: 30,973

25. just to get a taste

Summary: The one where Jeongguk dares Jimin and Taehyung to kiss and it unravels a lot of feelings. But mostly more kisses.

Or the one where Jimin's heart is stupid and Jimin's best friend is actually irresistible. Who'd've thunk, huh?

Words: 24,375

26. tell them it's the end

Summary: Five months after Taehyung suddenly walked out on him, Jimin finds out that Taehyung has yet to inform his family, who absolutely loved Jimin, about their split.

Jimin tries to swallow his feelings as he once again “dates” Taehyung.

Words: 13,802

27. stay with you

Summary: Taehyung wondered why he always see this blonde man, getting wasted every night. Its such a shame seeing his pretty face wasting every single night of his life in this bar.

Until he saw his eyes, and he understood why.

(Or Jimin is broken and he wanted his happiness back.)

Words: 12,875

28. ring the changes

Summary: That's the nature of one-sided confessions. Things change.

Words: 45,248

29. summer, winter, spring (i'm falling for you)

Summary: The school starts to take notice of Jimin.

Taehyung has always noticed.

Words: 41,786

30. Make Me-al

Summary: In which Jimin starts to work at Jin's restaurant and there he meets Taehyung, the new rookie waiter that kinda gets him off his nerves (the feeling is mutual). Yet, the tension between them is hotter than the ovens from the kitchen...

Words: 26,886

31. such stuff as dreams are made on

Summary: "sir no one, may i have this dance?"

or: kim taehyung, a kitchen boy, sneaks into a royal masquerade. park jimin is the prince he never expected.

Words: 38,753

#ao3fic #bangtan #bts #bts fic #jimin #taehyung #vmin #vmin fic #vmin au

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