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halsteadlover · 2 years ago

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The Beginning

*Gif not mine credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader.

• Requested by anon: HI! How are you? I love your works! I'm not a native speaker and your writing help me to improve my English. So thanks a lot! Can I make a request? I read your "Life with Jay Halstead" and I really liked this particular sentence "he was nervous when he asked you for the very first time to go on a date with him". Can you write a fic of this? The moment of asking and the actual date? Thank you so much, and sorry for my English! Happy new year! Bye!

• Warning: just few curse words.

• Word count: 4585.

• A/N: hi everyone! Guess who's back with another piece of shit 😍 I know nobody cares but I'm so sorry I just disappeared, it's been a quite hectid period, but from now on I'll try to write as many as possible. So this is part 1 of two. I decided to divide this piece because it was too long and I know nobody wanted to read a long ass piece of +10k words 💀. So let me know what do you think, your feedback is really important to me and like, reblog and follow me if you want. I hope you'll like this piece, I love you all! Xx

Jay Halstead had completely lost his mind for you.

What was initially a simple crush, was becoming over time much, much more and Jay, with each day that passed, he realized more and more he was less and less able to manage and hide it.

Jay had met you about a year ago when you were hired to work as a waitress at Molly’s. He had first seen you one evening after his shift at the police station. He remembered that moment as if it had only happened a short time ago.

It was hot at hell that night and Jay had no desire to go out for a drink with his colleagues, just wanting to go back to his house, take a shower and sleep. That shift was tough enough, at which they all decided a drink would certainly improve the situation a bit so, under insistence, Jay found himself accepting the invitation.

When he entered Molly’s, he had immediately noticed how crowded that evening was and this made him breathe a frustrated sigh, wishing that evening would end as soon as possible.

He looked around him bored, sitting with his arms folded to his chest and leaning on the back of the chair while he did nothing but think about how much he wanted to get up and leave. There were people who lovingly cherish, people who laughed and joked, there were couples of sweethearts who looked at each other with love as they sipped from their drinks.

“What about you Halstead?”.

“Mmh? What?” Jay asked, turning his gaze to his interlocutor, with an expression completely bored and neutral.

“God, it looks like you’re at a funeral,” Adam joked, “I asked what do you want to drink. There are a lot of people tonight, I don’t think any waitresses will arrive soon.”

Jay thought about it for a few seconds and was about to answer when he was interrupted by Kim’s voice who said, “Ah here! A waitress is coming, guys.”

When Jay looked up, he saw you approach his table with a brisk pace but being careful not to bump into anyone. He looked at you insistently, almost studying you, while he tried to make up his mind if he had ever seen you before.

But no, he was sure he had never met you, damn it, he wouldn’t be able to forget a woman like you if he had seen you before. He thought you had probably just started working at Molly’s, since he was a regular customer of the bar and he had never met you before that evening.

“Good evening!” you greeted, looking at each person on that table “What can I bring you?”.

The smile that formed on your lips was like a sudden beam of sunlight that illuminated the darkest corners of that bar. It was broad and enthusiastic, full of joy even if the slight dark circles that surrounded your eyes marked your tiredness. But you were beautiful, the most beautiful woman Jay had ever seen.

Your eyes were dazzling, magnetic, radiant and sparkled like two stars in the darkest sky.

He looked at you mesmerized as you took the notepad and the pen from the pocket of your apron and as you began to write all the various orders. He looked at the way you were focused while you scribbled on that little notebook and his eyes took advantage of this to trace every corner of your face, the curve of your nose, your lips, your cheeks. Every single inch of skin on your face was studied by his attentive, alert and interested eyes. There was a small lamp right above the table where he was sitting that emanated a dim light that directly illuminated your face and, fuck it, you looked like an angel fallen straight from heaven.

Jay suddenly felt an elbow at his left side, which made him jump on the spot and awaken from his daydream. You.

He snapped his head at Adam, glaring at him, quickly realizing how everyone at that table was grinning and laughing under their mustaches.

“She asked you what do you want to drink. Have you gone deaf Halstead?”.

Jay didn’t answer him but looked back at you, suddenly feeling a feeling of embarrassment take over as he noticed the way you looked at him, trying not to smile, or rather, not to laugh.

“Oh… Um… I’m sorry, I was lost in my mind…-” Jay mumbled, scratching the back of his neck with embarrassment. He looked down for a moment, feeling his cheeks heat up and no longer able to bear the intensity with which your eyes looked at him. God what was happening to him?

“Don’t worry, take your time, I’m here. I can pass soon if you want…-” you replied, with a friendly and understanding smile on your lips, trying not to make him feel further embarrassed. His friends were laughing at that point, never having seen Jay so nervous in front of a woman.

Jay returned his eyes to yours, slightly shaking his head. “No, no. I would like a beer if possible, thank you.”

”Any beers in particular?”.

He shook his head again, suddenly feeling even his sweaty hands. “No, you choose for me, any type will do.”

You wrote the last order you were missing on the notepad and then set your eyes on Jay again, who did not take his eyes off you even for a second.

“Can I get you something else?” you asked cordially.

“No, thank you,” almost all of them answered in chorus.

“I’ll come back as soon as possible”.

Jay followed you with his eyes as you walked away from the table and disappeared into the crowd, looking at your body carefully from head to toe, without sparing even an inch. You wore a plain T-shirt and a pair of black jeans and for some odd reason you were more beautiful than all the dressed and made up women in that bar.

The counter was not visible so seeing you was almost impossible and unwittingly Jay found himself hoping the order would arrive as soon as possible.

“Who is she?” he asked his friends, his eyes wandering around the bar as he hoped to see you again.

“I don't know,” Antonio replied. “She have certainly started working here recently.”

“Our little Halstead was so embarrassed,” Kim teased, laughing with the rest of the group.

“Right! I had never seen you like this, since when did Detective Halstead become so shy in front of women?” Hailey continued, laughing at the way Jay rolled his eyes in frustration.

“I wasn't shy or nervous or embarrassed. Quit this bullshit,” he snapped, continuing to look around.

The others continued to tease him but he completely shut down his brain and stopped listening to them. He kept looking around, hoping to see you appear again in the crowd sooner or later.

Who were you? What was your name?

Jay had the inexorable desire to know more about you, to talk to you, and the same instant he saw you reappear with the tray with drinks in hand, he mentally thanked his colleagues for insisting that he to go to Molly's.

“Here you are guys, sorry for keeping you waiting,” you announced as soon as you approached the table, setting the tray down for a moment and starting to distribute the various drinks. “And for you, here's your beer”.

You took the beer Jay had ordered and started handing it to him, but the instant you were about to do so he too held out his hand and as you did, your hands brushed. It was a small contact, almost non-existent, but it was enough for both of us to unleash that blush on your goths.

“T-thank you very much,” Jay almost stammered, cursing himself at the same instant it happened.

“Don’t mention it. Let me know if you need anything else. Enjoy your evening,” you replied with a smile on your face, before throwing one last look at Jay, taking the tray under his arm and walking away from the table after everyone thanked you.

That night was hectic, so much Jay didn't see you sitting even once. He continued to watch you from afar, the way you paced back and forth between tables, taking orders left and right. He noticed the way you never stopped smiling and being friendly to customers, even though you were visibly tired and exhausted.

“Do you want something else to drink?” Jay asks suddenly, turning to his friends.

“Not for now...” they replied and, without even waiting for them to finish the sentence, he got up and walked towards the counter, intending to order another beer. He sat on the stool, waiting for someone to take his order, and by someone he meant you.

He looked around, waiting almost a good 5 minutes before you approached him.

“Hey, what can I do for you?” you asked when you approached Jay. He felt the palms of his hands sweat again and for a moment he even thought about getting up and going back to his place. But he couldn't, he wanted to talk to you, he wanted to know at least your name. You smiled at him and he forgot even the phrase he had already formulated in his mind.

“I just wanted another beer,” he replied, clearing his throat and wiping his palms on his jeans. It had to be a pitiful sight, god. “And possibly your name too.”

What the fuck? Where did this come from?

Jay thought for a moment he was about to get an insult in response but instead you burst out laughing, making him mentally breathe a sigh of relief.

God, what a fucking idiot.

But it was worth it, shit, the sound of your laugh was something so magnificent and sweet, it almost seemed to have eliminated all the sounds and noises that were in that bar. Jay tried to hold back the smirk that tried to appear on his face as he watched you closely.

“You have a name, don't you?”.

“I don't think knowing my name is essential,” you replied with the same joking tone, “Do you want the same beer?”

“Actually no, I've changed my mind. I'd like a cocktail now.”

“Of course, what would you like?”.

“Surprise me.”

Actually Jay didn't even want a cocktail, he just wanted to stay as close to the counter as possible to talk to you.

“So? Aren't you going to tell me your name?”.

Jay rested his elbows on the counter, leaning slightly forward as if to get even closer to you. He didn't stop looking at you even for a second and even if at that moment he had to bite his tongue to keep quiet and not say anything that might scare you away, he realized the incredible attraction he felt towards you.

You threw him an amused look as you began to take all the ingredients to make the cocktail. You looked into each other's eyes for a moment and Jay couldn't help but notice the way they glowed in the dim light of that bar. “Why do you insist on knowing my name?”

Jay shrugged with feigned nonchalance. “I like knowing who I'm talking to.”

“We're not talking in fact, I'm serving a customer.”

Jay pretended not to be touched by these words and instead chuckled, while shifting his weight onto the stool. “Touché.”

He didn't know what else to say.

Fuck, he wanted to hit on you but for some reason he couldn't. He was not stupid, he knew that women liked him and for this reason he had never had problems with them, to hit on them when he liked someone, but in that moment, with you, he realized he didn’t know what to say because it was the first time he found himself in that situation. He was usually the one who intimidated women, and sometimes he liked that too, but finding himself in the reverse parts was something he didn't like at all.

“Do you always look at everyone in this creepy way?” you joked.

Jay blushed from head to toe and thanked god you weren't looking at him right now or it would’ve been very embarrassing. He looked away. “I'm sorry,” he chuckled “And no, I don't look creepy at anyone.”

“Hmm, I must be special then.”

Fuck.

“Here's the cocktail, let me know how it is,” you said, placing the glass on the counter and bringing it closer to Jay. He alternated his gaze between the drink and you was pleasantly surprised to notice the colors of the drink.

“It looks good.”

You leaned with your hands on the counter, your head tilted slightly to the side as you watched Jay taste the drink you made. The way you looked at him, with that little smile on your lips, almost made him spill the drink.

“Go ahead then.”

He took a sip and the expression of surprise that appeared on his face made you laugh. “What's up?”

“It's delicious!” he exclaimed in amazement, taking another long sip. It was all perfectly balanced, you could feel the alcohol but it wasn't enough to make you disgusted and the combination of sweet and bitter that was perceived gave the perfect touch to the drink. Jay had no idea what it was but it was probably one of the best drinks he'd ever had.

“You look surprised.”

He shook his head, giggling. “Not at all, it's really delicious.”

Jay finished his glass at the counter, as slowly as possible so that he could keep talking to you. He was surprised to realize that initial nervousness and embarrassment were almost gone, you managed a lot to calm him down. But that slight gut feeling was always there and the more you kept talking the more Jay felt pushed towards you.

He was attracted to you in a way that he didn't think possible since you knew each other alone for a couple of hours, but these were enough to understand he wanted to know you better, to know as much as possible about you.

The rest of the evening went on, and after that chat at the counter Jay no longer had the opportunity to talk to you, taken as you were from work. There were furtive glances from both of them, and it was impossible to deny it. Jay would glance at you from time to time as he talked to his friends and he was tempted to order even twenty more drinks just to have an excuse to talk to you, but the others stopped him, saying it would seem creepy and obsessive.

And that was the night he saw you for the first time, beautiful, radiant, exuberant. From the moment his eyes rested on you, he never forgot you. He didn't even know your name, but that didn't get you out of his mind, in fact, Jay was more and more determined to know you, he was so intrigued by you.

From the moment you met, he had not stopped for a moment to think about you, your eyes and it was for this reason from that evening, every evening, after every shift, he went to Molly's. It was just to see you, to talk to you.

At first he didn't know how to approach, not wanting to look like some kind of stalker so he just sat at the table, or at the counter, drinking the same beer and occasionally throwing a few furtive glances at you. He wanted to let you know he liked you but he didn't want to ruin everything, or worse to scare you off.

Those furtive glances gradually became short chats, in which you exchanged a few words, you told each other about your day. It was pleasant for both of us, it almost became a need, and over time, weeks, months, those little chats became deeper and deeper conversations in which you began to get to know each other better, to know something different from each other.

Jay had learned over time what your shifts were and started showing up there to keep you company, sometimes even to help you clean the bar and shut it down. You didn’t have a car so you sometimes took a taxi or, when the weather allowed it, you walked to your apartment. It became important for Jay to drive you home, unwittingly fearing that something might happen to you on the way home.

A beautiful friendship was born between you, you laughed, you joked together, you confided in each other but Jay was well aware his feeling was anything but friendship. He was completely bewitched by you and he realized it above all from the fact that his days were now surrounded by the thought of seeing you in the evening, he couldn’t wait to finish working just to visit you at Molly's. However, he didn’t know your thoughts about it, he didn’t know if you felt the same and therefore he didn’t want to risk in any way to ruin the beautiful relationship that had been created between you.

But, fuck, it was getting so hard for Jay to stand next to you and pretend nothing happened, that he didn't want to take you and kiss you until he lost his breath, pretend that every time he looked at you he didn't get lost in your eyes, that every time you he saw laughing and smiling his heart didn’t stop in his chest.

”Jay are you listening to us or not?”.

He raised his head from his cell phone, glaring at Antonio who had just called him. He and his team were all in the unit, but the shift was almost over so they were all debating what to do next.

“God Halstead you're totally screwed,” Kevin laughed. “You're smiling at that cell phone like a little girl.”

“I wonder who you're texting that got you smiling like that,” Adam continued, leaning against his desk and his arms crossed across his chest as he teased his friend.

Jay rolled his eyes, snorting and placing his cell phone in his trouser pocket, trying to get out of his mind the image of the selfie you sent him at work, your big eyes and your beautiful smile. He resumed working on the report he had in front of his desk, ignoring the rest of the team and the blush that was edging his cheeks.

Jay why don't you just ask her out? We can see a mile away you doting on her, only a blind man wouldn't notice,” Kim spoke, approaching Jay and speaking in a low voice so that only him could hear. She leaned against his desk while he let out a sigh instead.

“I don't like her and I'm not crazy about her,” he mumbled, not even looking Kim in her eyes.

She giggled. “Oh come on, don't lie to me or to yourself, we all know here that's not the case. Just ask her out, what are you waiting for?”.

“I'm afraid of ruining everything, what if she doesn't feel the same?”.

“Jay you are a great detective but you are so stupid sometimes. Obviously she likes you, how is it possible that we all see it except you two?”.

“But she never gave me any signals...”

“Jay, she’s just waiting for you to make the first move before jumping in, I see the way she looks at you, she's smitten with you too. I'm sure she thinks the same things you think but we're girls, we want you guys to make the first move because we don’t want to embarrass ourselves or get ourselves hurt.”

“What if she says no?”.

“Then you’ll have no regrets and you’ll know you really tried but I’ll bet my badge she’ll say yes if you ask her out.”

Jay kept thinking of Kim's words as he drove to Molly's and throughout the evening. He knew she was right but he was so scared of losing you that he rather he preferred to be just your friend.

“Halstead you okay?” you asked, placing the beer bottle in front of him and noticing the way Jay kept staring into space. He seemed thoughtful, absent, didn't laugh like he usually did, didn't joke.

“Oh... Sorry... Sure, I'm fine,” he replied, giving you a shy look “Thanks by the way,” he continued, grabbing the beer and taking a sip.

God, since when was I'm so nervous?

His stomach kept twisting in on itself and he’d even punch himself, no matter how idiotic it seemed.

“Mmh, I'm not a detective but I don't think you're okay at all,“ you replied, wiping the counter with a wet cloth “C'mon, you know you can talk to me about everything, you can tell me if something upsets you.”

Jay took a deep breath and after a moment that seemed like an eternity, he made up his mind and took the courage to ask you. But when he looked up and looked you in your fucking eyes, all that courage vanished into thin air, like a breath in the wind.

“I... I have to go,” he stammered frenziedly, suddenly letting himself be seized by total panic. Without even giving you a chance to answer, he got up from his stool - making sure he was leaving the beer money on the counter - and walked out of the bar at lightning speed.

“Jay, wait!” you exclaimed and were about to follow him when you heard Hermann calling you from the warehouse so you were forced to go, with only the question in mind what the hell had happened.

Jay cursed himself with fiber of his being for being so coward, for running away like that and without giving any kind of explanation. When he read your message asking him if he was okay and at least answer you, he let out a loud, frustrated snort.

He punched the wheel of his car, resting his forehead on it as he contemplated whether to leave and never go to Molly's again and thus disappear from the face of the earth, or whether to be a man and grow some balls.

When your shift was over Jay found himself in front of the bar again, but did not enter, waiting for you with his arms crossed over his chest and leaning against his car. He took the opportunity to take a walk to clear his head and in that moment he was more determined than ever to do it, to ask you out.

Seeing you leave the bar he couldn't help but think about how beautiful you were, with that tired and frowning expression. He tried not to get caught up in despair when you didn't look at him with your brilliant smile, which you used to give him every time you saw him.

“Y/N, wait!” Jay exclaimed when he noticed you were walking away, not even saying goodbye. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have left like that. Please stop!”.

“No Jay, that's not how you behave! You got me worried to death! You could’ve at least answer me and let me know that everything was fine, I would’ve understand. But you can't get up like that and leave without saying a word!” you blurted out stopping for a moment and looking at him, and Jay almost wanted to punch himself for thinking about how beautiful and sexy you were also angry.

“Were you worried about me?” he asked with a stupid expression on his face, to which you didn't even answer him and started walking again.

“No, no, no, please don't go,” he gently grabbed your arm and you stopped, looking first at Jay's hand around your arm and then at his face. He immediately let go of your arm and took a deep breath before speaking. “Listen to me, I'm so sorry, you're right, I shouldn't have left like that and above all without giving any explanation. I'm sorry I made you worry, but I needed time to think.”

“Think about what?”

Jay took a deep breath again, fiddling with his fingers as he tried to find the right words to ask you.

Now or never.

“Wel... I ... Er-…”

“Jay are you sure you're okay? You look really nervous.”

You are making me nervous.

“Y/N I... I have to tell you something...”

“Sure, you know you can tell me everything.”

“Fuck,” he let out, turning around for a moment and running his hands over his face in frustration. You positioned yourself in front of him, gently removing your hands from his face and looking into his eyes.

“You know you can talk to me, right?”.

“I hate you, you know that?” Jay blurted out, breaking your heart. You took a step back. “What? Why? What have I done? Did I do something bad? I'm sorry if…-” you stammered but he made you stop by covering your mouth with his hand.

“That's exactly why I hate you, because you talk so much, you are always so promising to apologize so as not to hurt the next one, you are always so kind and unselfish, but also so stubborn, so clumsy that I even wonder how it is possible how you’re a waitress, and I hate you because you fucked my brain up, because since I fucking met you I can't stop thinking about you, your eyes and your goddamn smile. You're making me stupid with your way of doing things, you literally drive me crazy Y/N and I really can't pretend nothing’s happening anymore, I can't be closer to you without having the inexorable desire to kiss and hug you…-” Jay seemed now a river in flood and the speech he had prepared was useless, he was now just saying everything that was going through his head, “I'm sorry for the way I'm telling you this, I'm sure you didn't expect it,” he continued, noticing the shock with which you were looking at him, eyes and mouth open wide, “But I really can't take it anymore, I want you, more than I’ve ever wanted any other person in the world and this thing has been devouring me inside since I first saw you in this damn bar. I... Fuck... You make me feel so nervous Y/N, like no one has done before, I don't know how to act when I'm with you... I wanted... Well… Today I wanted to ask you to go out with me, for a date but I looked at you and, shit, you screwed my brain and I didn't know how to ask you anymore, but yeah… All this was to ask you to give me the honor of taking you out on a date with me.”

When you didn't answer right away, Jay thought he screwed everything up.

God please. Shit, say something.

You kept looking at him with a completely shocked expression and Jay didn't blame you, so he waited for a few moments, giving you time to process what he had just told you, but the more silence loomed, the more panic took over him.

“Listen Y/N… Forget everything I said, let’s just remain friends as before. I'm so sorry,” he muttered in defeat, heartbroken. He started to walk away but stopped when you grabbed his hand with yours, your touch sending a shiver down his spine.

“Pick me up tomorrow at 8.”

Part 2 here →

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gubler-me-up · 3 years ago

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Oh Brother

Request(s): akhekfjakdjss okay this is weirdly specific but i had a dream about it, reader is a self defense teacher and owns a studio and also one of the guy team members little sister and Reid and reader have been fucking for like 3 months (include smut plz) and run into each other at the office and just stare at eachother for a couple of seconds while her brother is saying a bunch of really protective things about how she’s off limits plz plz

A/N: Thanks for the request, anon! Second highest voted for (and prayed for fic) in the 12 days of Ficmas poll! Love the concept, so I’m glad it made it onto the list! Hope you enjoy it and happy reading!

Couple: Spencer Reid x Fem!reader

Category: Smut

Content warning: Swearing, clitoral overstimulation, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, finger sucking, male ejaculation on female, female orgasm

Word count: 3.5k

——————–

You were rudely awakened by someone shaking you. You groaned as you knew who it was and why they were waking you up. You reluctantly opened your eyes to see Spencer with a halo of bright, yellow rays surrounding him. Anyone would have thought the sight of seeing such a beautiful man with a halo of sun around him would be out of a dream. However, you knew it meant you had to get up for work.

“Come on, tough girl. Time to get up,” he said.

“Ugh, waking up is so annoying,” you groaned.

He chuckled. “Well, waking up early kinda happens when you own your own self-defense studio.”

You rolled your eyes as he walked away from you and when you were certain he wasn’t looking, you closed your eyes again. You imagined if you hadn’t had sex with him last night after you two went on a date of many you two had been going on for the past three months that you wouldn’t even have woken up to his annoying shaking. You wouldn’t change a thing though.

You were glad Derek brought Spencer along that one fateful Saturday morning self-defense class he was guest-starring alongside you for. He even made Spencer participate through the whole class. He was so out of breath by the end, he barely had the breath to thank you and how nice it was meeting you. You gave him your card and told him once he regained his strength to speak, he could contact you to let you know about his experience. You know, for customer service reasons.

You never thought he would call because rarely did people call back with verbal feedback. They usually did the online survey. When you saw an unfamiliar number pop up on your office phone, you had a feeling within yourself that you were going to hear someone familiar.

“Hello, Y/N Morgan speaking, owner and instructor of Angel’s Self Defense Studio. How may I help you?” You asked.

“Y/N? Hi, it’s Spencer Reid. I work with Derek and he brought me into your class on Saturday,” Spencer said.

You were surprised he called. You weren’t expecting him to and didn’t want him to feel obligated to. However, something about the way he spoke was intriguing to you. Derek always brought him up during family get-togethers. It was hard not to find him even more intriguing actually hearing him speak. Bonus that he wasn’t wheezing this time.

“Oh, hi. I’m glad to hear that you’ve caught your breath again,” you joked.

He chuckled. “Yeah, sorry about that. I didn’t even get to properly thank you for your lesson. I think you might have worked everyone harder than Derek did.”

“Derek’s too much of a cupcake to work anyone overboard. I, however, have no mercy. Hope it wasn’t all bad,” you said.

“No, no, not at all. It was great. You were great,” he said.

You went silent. He thought you were great? You had barely even interacted with him on Saturday but it seemed as if you had made an impact on him.

You were about to reply to him until you heard him clear his voice. You could hear the slight mumbling of him trying to form a sentence after the long pause you didn’t intend on making so long. You had just zoned out on his words.

“Sorry if I said that weird. I mean I really enjoyed your class and you’re a great instructor. Sometimes whenever Derek’s explaining something, it isn’t always clear, but when you do it, it’s awesome and I-”

“Thanks a ton, sweet talker. Derek never told me you had such a way with words,” you said.

“Oh? He still talks about me to your family?” He asked.

“Of course. How could he resist telling us about someone so interesting?” You asked.

You could basically hear him blushing from the other end of the line. He cleared his throat again before he spoke. You smirked as you waited to hear his response.

“Um, well, if you find me interesting, I hope this means you’re okay if we grab something to eat one day. I just feel bad for maybe coming off rude and sweaty after the lesson was over. You like eating right?” He rambled.

You chuckled. “Aren’t you a genius? Shouldn’t you know without food, I couldn’t function long enough to do my job?”

“You’re right, that was a stupid question. What I really meant to ask was do you have a preference for what you want to eat?” He asked.

“Surprise me,” you said.

“What if you don’t like what I choose?” He asked.

“Then I’ll fight you,” you joked.

He chuckled. “I should have guessed that too.”

You shot your eyes open once you felt the weight of clothes hitting your body. You groaned as you looked over at Spencer who had a smirk on his face. You then sat up and took the blanket off of you along with the clothes he threw at you. You sat at the edge of the bed and watched him as he buttoned the last few buttons on his dress shirt.

You picked up your sports bra from off the bed and tossed it full strength at him. It hit him on his chest before falling to the floor. He looked at you with his hand on his chest.

“Ouch,” he said.

You softly giggled. “Two can play the “toss the clothes game.” One of these days I’m going to tell Derek how rough you are with me and then you’ll know what a true “ouch” feels like.”

He chuckled. “I think it’s quite the opposite. I think you’ve been rough with me more than you like to admit.”

“Not last night though. For someone who could barely steady their breath after their first class at my studio, it’s a surprise how good your stamina actually is,” you said.

He smirked as he made his way up to you. You could see in his eyes he was up to no good but you couldn’t help wanting to get up to no good as well. As he stopped in front of you, you stared up at him with the biggest smile on your face.

He leaned in and embraced you with a feverish kiss on your lips before trailing them across your cheek, then to your ear. You watched as he pulled down your tank top to expose your breasts. He stuck his fingers in your mouth and you seductively sucked on them as you moaned around them.

He kissed you repeatedly on your neck as he used his wet fingers to stimulate you with some nipple play. You moaned as he flicked and pinched your nipple to get you riled up. You could already feel yourself getting wet and he hadn’t even gotten into his groove again.

“Guess we’re both going to be late today,” he whispered in your ear.

He then moved his lips away from your neck and moved in for the nipple overstimulation kill. He placed his mouth on your right breast. Your moans grew louder as he sucked on it with no mercy as his other hand stayed busy on your left breast, fondling your nipple.

“I’d be late for work any day for you,” you moaned.

You guessed he liked your answer since you felt him suck more vigorously on your breast. His left hand moved away from your breast and you immediately knew where it was travelling to. You didn’t even bother to wait for him to do it for you.

Your hands raced to your shorts and rushed to pull them down along with your underwear. You didn’t want to be super late considering you had to open the studio, so it was best to save the usual 20 minutes of foreplay for another time. Besides, you desperately wanted to feel his dick inside of you again regardless of just having him blow your back out multiple times last night.

He chuckled as he took his mouth off of your breast. He looked at you deep in your eyes as he helped you take off your shorts and underwear and tossed them somewhere on the floor. The way he looked at you made you know he wanted to make you scream his name all over again.

“Are you ready?” He asked as he kissed your neck.

“Am I ever not ready for you?” You asked.

You could feel his soft chuckles run down your neck as the sweet sound of him undoing his pants buckle chimed in your ear. He then looked at you, slightly leaning in enough to just brush against your lips with his. He propped your legs up and you rested your calves on his shoulders.

“You tell me,” he whispered.

Then you felt him ease himself into you which left you with your mouth gaped open. You couldn’t remember a time before Spencer that you ever felt so filled. He made it dangerously hard to resist screaming his name every time you two had sex.

“Fuck,” you moaned.

He increased his pace with the sound of your moans. He didn’t lean away from your face either. He gripped onto your thigh and kept his eyes on the prize: to make you scream. He leaned in and gave you a sloppy, lust-filled kiss before leaning away to look at you with a smirk.

“Touch yourself for me,” he said.

You didn’t hesitate to do what he asked. You placed your hand on your clit and started to circle it as you didn’t break eye contact with him. He loved every second of you looking at him as if he was your whole world.

“Like this, babe?” You moaned.

He quickly looked down and a wide smile appeared on his face as he looked back up at you. He nodded, impressed by the way you were fondling yourself. You bit your bottom lip at how proud he looked at you. You were starting to believe you had some sort of praise kink when it came to him.

“Just like that,” he said.

You stopped fondling your clit to make him taste how good you tasted in his mouth. You placed your fingers up to his mouth and he gladly opened it for you to stick your wet fingers in. He sucked off all your juices, groaning in pleasure around your fingers as he did.

As soon as you took out your fingers, he leaned in and kissed you with fire in his mouth. He thrusted in you to match the same heat he had going on in his mouth. You could barely keep your balance with how much of a strong tingle he was sending down your spine from going so deep into you.

“Fuck, Spencer. I need you,” you shrieked.

“Need me where?” He asked.

“All over me,” you shrieked.

He kissed you one last time before pulling out of you and gently pushing you down onto the bed. You closed your eyes as you went back to touching yourself with one hand on your breast and the other rubbing your clit as you waited.

“Rub your clit faster,” he demanded.

Usually, you didn’t do well with so many instructions from a man in bed. He was the only exception. You’d be submissive at the drop of a dime for him. So, you sped up. You knew exactly what he was trying to do by asking you to rub your clit faster. He knew you so well that he knew you could cum with clitoral stimulation overload.

“Fuck, fuck,” you gasped.

“Yeah, that’s it, baby. Cum for me,” he moaned.

From the sound of his voice, you could tell he was jerking himself off to you stimulating your clit. He was such an observer. You never knew you could be turned on so much by that until you met him.

You arched your back as you felt your orgasm run through your body. You let out a long, lustful moan that did him in. You felt his warm cum land all over your torso as he let out a satisfied moan.

You opened up your eyes and smiled at him before looking down at the mess he made on you. He grabbed your face and gently brought you close to him for a kiss. As he leaned away from you, he looked down at your torso and then back up at you with a goofy smile on.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to…you know…”

“Cum that much? It’s okay. Better on me than in me. I think we should ease Derek into the idea of us dating before we pop up with niece or nephew for him,” you joked.

“I think he’d actually kill me,” he said.

“Oh, babe, don’t even worry about that. I’d never let him beat up my beautiful baby daddy,” you giggled.

He kissed you again. “I’ll take your word.”

————

You paced back and forth, waiting for Derek to be done with work. You two had planned on going back to Chicago for the weekend. You waited extremely impatiently downstairs of the Quantico Headquarters waiting for him to come down, so you two could catch your flight on time.

You were excited to go home and see your mom and sisters, but you had to admit you’d miss seeing Spencer for the weekend. Two weeks had passed since you’d seen him last because of your conflicting schedules and being busybodies due to work. You texted him yesterday to let him know you’d be gone for the weekend with Derek. He didn’t respond which made you a bit worried. Was he actually not all that interested in you after all? Or was he just that bad at using technology as Derek had informed you many times before?

You felt your phone vibrate in your pocket and nearly ripped your jeans trying to get it. You were so eager to see any acknowledgment from Spencer, it was borderline crazy. However, it was a text from Derek telling you he was going to be downstairs in five minutes. You didn’t know if you were more frustrated because Spencer still hadn’t texted you back or Derek was taking an extra five minutes to meet you even though you’ve been waiting for 20.

“Y/N.”

You turned around to look at the elevator to see Spencer walking out. You crossed your arms and gave him a lethal stare. It was hard glaring at him when he was looking at you with such remorse in his eyes. You loosened up your arms, letting them flop to your side to show him you were open to talking.

“Funny running into you. Now you can’t avoid messaging me back,” you said.

“I wasn’t avoiding messaging you back. I just wanted to say I’ll miss you but I wanted to do it in person. That’s why I distracted Morgan for an extra few minutes, so I could see you before you leave for the weekend,” he explained.

“If that wasn’t so genuinely romantic, I would call it a lie. How did you postpone Derek’s arrival?” You asked.

“I told him he was missing a case file when we were counting, but I actually hid it in his desk drawer. He never cleans it, so he has some digging to do,” he explained.

“Well, since we don’t have long before he comes down, I just want to say I’ll miss you too. It’s going to be weird not having you come by the studio and pick me up to go on a date,” you said.

“You’re only gone for the weekend, not forever,” he said.

“I know. I guess I’m just used to being around you. You’re kinda addicting,” you said.

He smirked. “I promise to take you on a date of a lifetime when you get back.”

“And come back to my self-defense studio for a follow-up lesson?” You asked.

He shrugged. “Just maybe. Depends on how much I miss you.”

You giggled as you gently shoved his shoulder. He chuckled as he gently grabbed your hand that had lingered on his chest a second too long. The way he held your hand told you he already missed you before you even got on the plane.

“Don’t kid yourself. You’ll miss me the entire weekend,” you said.

“Y/N.”

You immediately retracted your hand away from Spencer’s when you heard Derek call out your name. You and Spencer both looked toward the elevator to see him walking up to you two. You took a deep breath to keep your cool, so it wouldn’t be obvious you were just smiling brightly not too long ago.

He darted his eyes from you to Spencer and again. You wondered if he would notice how pink Spencer’s cheeks were and think if he was blushing because of someone. Specifically, you. You knew he couldn’t help being a profiler sometimes.

“Pretty boy, trying to get a free lesson out of my little sis?” He asked.

“Free lesson? What do you mean by free lesson? What free lesson?” Spencer asked.

Derek raised a mildly suspicious eyebrow. You softly sighed to yourself. Could Spencer be any more nervous? Derek looked at you as he pointed his thumb towards Spencer.

“He usually has the best memory. Did you forget we went to Y/N’s self-defense studio? I know you weren’t tossed around that hard,” he joked as he nudged him.

“Oh yes, of course. How could I forget Y/N is a self-defense expert?” Spencer nervously replied.

“You know that one move she did? With the elbow jab? I taught her that. I told her if any man steps to you the wrong way, jab him in his rib,” Derek explained.

You could see Spencer’s eyes widen in terror. He darted his eyes toward you and you quickly looked over at him before looking back at Derek. You rolled your eyes and shook your head.

“You’re such a liar. I learned that on my own,” you said.

Derek viciously shook his head as he went to stand next to you. He wrapped his arm around you to bring you in closer to him. You sighed as you knew he was going to spew some big brother bullshit of teaching his little sister everything you know now.

“I’ve told every one of her boyfriends that they better treat her right or boom, they get the elbow,” he said as he popped out his elbow.

You and Spencer exchanged eye contact. He had started the rant of a big brother who had suspicions about the man standing in front of them. From the looks you gave each other, you two were wondering what he knew.

“Derek, is this speech necessary right now? We have a flight to catch and I’m sure Spencer’s ready to start his weekend,” you said.

“I’m just saying, if pretty boy wanted to become your lover boy, he has the cruel reality to face of you being off-limits,” he said.

You and Spencer once again looked at each other knowing all too well what the other felt, smelt, and tasted like. Derek then fist-bumped Spencer’s chest as he flashed him a grin. Spencer looked at him with fearful yet curious eyes, trying to understand what his whole speech was leading to.

“Don’t worry though, Reid. You’ll find your person one day. Just not my sister or any of my sisters. You’d have to get a jab in your rib if you end up with one of them,” he said.

“Ugh, Derek, I know you love Spencer and everything, but do you really have to keep him for yourself?” You joked.

“I do love my pretty boy, but I think he’d be better off with a pretty girl instead of me,” he said.

You looked at Derek with a questionable look. “Saying I’m not pretty enough for him?”

Spencer widened his eyes as he waited for Derek to reply. Derek looked at you, shaking his head. You rolled your eyes and took his arm off around you.

“Y/N, you know I didn’t mean it like that,” he said.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m telling mom on you. Let’s go, we’re going to be late,” you said with just enough fake irritation in your voice to make him sweat.

Derek sighed as he held out his fist to Spencer. Spencer reached out and grabbed his fist in response. You smiled at how adorably dorky he could be and how you would miss that the entire weekend.

“See you next week, pretty boy,” he said.

“See you,” Spencer said.

As Derek turned around, you blew Spencer a quick kiss. He smiled as he mouthed ‘I’ll miss you’ to you. You whispered it back to him before you waved.

“See you around, Spencer,” you said.

“See you, Y/N,” he said.

You swiftly turned around to walk away with Derek. Once you two reached outside, you couldn’t help notice him holding back a mischievous smirk. He didn’t leave you waiting long to figure out why he was stifling it.

“I’m telling mom you have a boyfriend,” he teased.

“What boyfriend? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said.

“Mhm, sure. Just let pretty boy know my jab is serious,” he said.

—–

MASTERLIST

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#12 days of ficmas #spencer reid #dr. spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #Spencer Reid fic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #Criminal Minds #criminalminds #criminal minds fanfic #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fic

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sukisdeliveryservice · 3 years ago

Note

hi!! can i request for an angsty CEO!seungcheol kinda thing where you’re his employee anddd you can continue from there hehe but please make it have a happy ending!! ty -🐼

your choice;

✎ pairing — ceo!seungcheol x personal assistant!reader (no pronouns are specified but there is one mention of reader wearing a dress)

✎ genre — fluff, humour, some angst towards the end but it has a happy ending, somewhat of a slowburn (i tried my best!)

✎ warning(s) — none!

✎ word count — 4.33 k

this is also for ficscafe’s dialogue prompt event!

↳ #10 - “Please don’t be afraid of me.”

✎ a/n — hi anon! this has been sitting in my inbox for so long and i have to apologize because i was only able to complete it with less angst than you had originally pictured. i’m a bit disappointed that i wasn’t able to do the request justice...feedback is appreciated!

also svt comeback tomorrow! super excited and i hope you guys are ready to love all the new songs we're getting ;)

Seungcheol wanted to strangle the head of HR.

You see, he was a very busy man—countless big-name entertainment companies have requested that he promote their agencies on his sites, and he has made appearances on several billboards across high-profile cities within South Korea. At just 25 years old, Seungcheol was already at the height of his career, not just because he was the founder and CEO of Going Company, but also because he was ridiculously untouchable.

When he made a request for the hiring manager to scout out a candidate for his personal assistant, he didn’t expect—and he will say this in the nicest way possible—someone by the likes of you.

For a lack of a better word, you were strange.

You had a killer resume, flawless time management skills and were exceptional at handling tough clients. Your professionalism with him however, was—unique, as a CEO who was trying to maintain a clean image would put it.

If you had any fear about losing your job, you definitely didn’t show it because you continued to complete all the tasks Seungcheol assigned to you with efficiency, but with an air around you that was borderline unsettling.

You would hand him a perfect coffee order but wrinkle your nose at him when he took a sip. When you were given the freedom to book his appointments at any time of the day last week, you scheduled them all to be before 10 am (Seungcheol still fists his sheets in the morning when he thinks about this). And earlier today, you had let the newbie intern enter his office when you knew they were always too excited in the mornings for Seungcheol to handle.

The only reason why he hadn’t done anything about your eccentric behaviour was the fact that he had a conference to attend this weekend, and he really, really needed your deflecting skills to avoid the nosy representatives, who were always trying to find a reason to demean his accomplishments.

“You have a meeting with the director of finance at 8 am tomorrow morning Mr. Choi.”

“Another 8 am? Are you trying to kill me yn?” Seungcheol pinched the bridge of his nose and held back the nth exasperated comment of the day. He was not going to lose it when he was only on his first cup of coffee for the morning. You, as per usual, remained indifferent, and kept flipping through the tablet planner.

“You’ll thank me later when you don’t have to settle that client’s budget complaints later in the afternoon, because the marketing head tells me they tend to be a bit more reasonable in the mornings.”

It’s not like you weren't respectful, you were professional in giving all the appropriate greetings and even occasionally treated your company underclassmen to meals after work. It was just that you were so odd with him, like you were always trying to keep a certain distance.

“Did you already book the tickets to fly over to the conference this weekend?” You briefly glance up from the schedule to nod and bow your head. Without another word, you turn on your heel to leave the office. Seungcheol sighs as he falls back onto his seat, all he wanted to do was to spend more time talking with you. You had been in the company for a little over a year and he felt like he didn’t know a thing about your life.

Seungcheol shakes his head and goes back to wrapping up some reports ahead of the busy weekend.

Now you knew it was bound to happen. As you were doing the last round of checks for Seungcheol’s team’s luggage on the plane, you mentally give yourself a pep talk for the weekend’s conference—your mind was used to spending the majority of your day by Seungcheol’s side, but the thought of being in such close company for the entire weekend was making your heart run laps.

You made sure to book first-class tickets of course, but you also made sure that you were seated as far away from Seungcheol as possible. It didn’t matter that you were his personal assistant, the spacious cabin gave you lots of leeway for roaming around the plane and answering his requests. You just could not handle spending the twelve hour plane ride sitting so closely to him.

You were pretty sure that people were under the impression that you lowkey hated who you worked for, but anyone with two eyes would know that it was the opposite, really.

Lucky for you, Seungcheol’s team had the observational skills of a toothpick.

When you were being interviewed by the hiring manager, you of course knew the company that you were applying to, and the person who would be in charge of all your daily tasks. At the time, Going Company was still small, and you knew that there was going to be a lot of hustling while it was in its beginning stages. You were ready for the over-time stress, the several cups of caffeine and the frequent nagging of either your boss, or his colleagues, that were under the impression that you worked for them too.

You however, were not ready for the boss that told you to go home early when he caught you blinking back eyes that lacked sleep, or the boss that invited you to drink with all his colleagues after work, and said colleagues treating you with an utmost respect that you had never seen from any previous position of employment.

It was a bit sad that you found yourself absolutely smitten at any acts of kindness shown to you in your workplace, but the accompaniment of your boss’s tiny mannerisms really hit a spot in your heart that you never even knew existed before.

Maybe it had to do something with the way Seungcheol was exceptionally grumpy in the mornings, but after you gave him his coffee, his eyes would fall shut and a soft smile would grace his features after the first sip. Or it could be the way he was not afraid to whine in front of you about the silly clients he had met for the day, or the way he would write little notes on the edge of your meeting minutes when you two were stuck in a boring product presentation, or the way he would patiently listen to all the young interns who barged into his office with jittery excitement, or the way—

In short, you loved the company that you worked for (and the person who ran it).

Despite the endearment you had towards your boss, professionalism came first above everything. You decided that you would keep your distance from Seungcheol. You would still perform all of your duties with efficient ease, but any possibility of growing closer was out of the question. Conversations would be kept straight-to-the-point and company dinners would end early for you. You were not risking Seungcheol finding out that you held any sort of feelings for him.

However, the world seemed to have other plans for you, because Seungcheol was now heading in your direction, and when he stationed himself in the adjacent cabin across from you, you were pretty sure that he had no intention in returning to his booked seat.

“Mr. Choi, was there something wrong with your seat?” Seungcheol hasn’t met your eyes yet, instead he smiles while facing forward as if knowing that you were going to ask that question, and he responds with, “Mingyu finds the back more spacious, so we agreed to trade seats.”

How strange, you were pretty sure that each cabin in the first-class area had the same amount of legroom. Unbeknownst to you, Seungcheol had actually not-so-subtly pleaded with Mingyu using the bribery of extra vacation days to switch cabins in order to be closer to you. Reason being, well— he has yet to figure that out.

The first two hours of the flight was spent in blissful silence. You figured it wasn’t so bad to be seated closely next to Seungcheol if you could just pull the divider to separate your areas and turn the lights off so he would think that you were sleeping.

Unfortunately, everyone on the plane had to eat dinner, so you were forced to come out of hiding. Fortunately, you were blessed to find a delicious bowl of bibimbap being handed to you by the flight stewardess. After you thanked her for the meal, you take the chopsticks into your hand and are just about to dig into the meal, before you hear a knock on the dividing partition.

You slide the door open to be met with Seungcheol, who was also holding his bowl of bibimbap and you give a slight bow to acknowledge the request he was about to make. “Would you like to have some extra bibimbap of mine?”

You try to mask the confusion that washes over your face at Seungcheol’s unusual request. If he asked you to place an order for more food, you would not have batted an eye, but to no surprise his unwavering kindness nestled its way into your heart despite your internal protests. “Are you not hungry Mr. Choi?”

“I’m supposed to be dieting right now, there’s going to be another magazine shoot when we get back from this trip.”

“I’m sure the photographer would gladly take your pictures regardless.”

“And what do you mean by that?”

“I mean that you will always look good on camera no matter how much your outside appearance changes—”

Your sentence comes to an abrupt halt as your eyes widen slightly at the realization of your words and you plead to the empty air that the conversation you were having was just a figment of your imagination. The curious, yet endearing grin that was immediately sent your way made it very apparent that the words spoken were not a delusion.

“You sure know how to flatter someone, miss ln, and I thank you for your kind words. But I also noticed that you buy this for lunch almost every Friday, so I thought you would like some more of it.”

Had Seungcheol really noticed the foods you enjoyed during the lunch breaks of your work week? Your mind cannot find any further responses to Seungcheol’s last comment, so you just give a small smile and nod in thanks when he scoots closer to your side to pile some extra bibimbap into your bowl.

Seungcheol does not say much to you for the rest of the flight. He figured that you wanted to get as much rest as possible before the start of the hectic weekend. You on the other hand try to ignore the disappointed pang in your stomach when he doesn’t knock on the partition for the rest of the journey.

Conferences were the worst. The whole making connections aspect was so tiresome and kind of shallow if Seungcheol was being honest. But alas, he is CEO after all, and he does try his best to spend more time around the people who seemed the most genuine.

As planned, you were by his side for most of the evening. You were organizing all the business cards that were collected from the other attendees, as well as redirecting the conversation once it got too uncomfortable for Seungcheol’s liking. Majority of the attendees were already middle-aged, and it irked Seungcheol when some of them refused to treat him as an equal. In his mind, business was business, and it didn’t matter that he had spent less years working in the corporate sector than others.

Seungcheol was pleased to have a reunion with Minghao, a distributor in the China district. He was around the same age, and Seungcheol would even consider him as a close friend, as far as partnerships go. You, being the absolute legend you are, not only arranged an event itinerary for Seungcheol that had ample time to meet new people and get work done, but with lots of leeway for him to socialize with mutuals and enjoy the time away from Korea.

Seungcheol also did not fail to notice how you really shone in your professional attire, and how the way you weaved in and out of the crowds of hotshot business owners and investors made it seem like you owned the place. At first, you were a little hesitant to come on the business trip as personal assistants did not have much of a role in these kinds of events, but through Seungcheol’s polite persuasion, you had agreed to lead the team in navigating through the weekend.

"Miss ln, I'll have you know that your input has actually helped the company grow lots in the past year, and it would be a pleasure to have you take the lead in some of the conversations we will be having with the shareholders we are going to be meeting. This is, only if you'd like to, of course."

It all came down to you in the end, and you figured that it would be a good experience for personal growth as well. You didn't think many CEOs involved their personal assistants in business decision making so much, but you were happy to try something other than mastermind scheduling (even if that was a great feat in it of itself).

You were first afraid that the other attendees would see you more as an unnecessary dead weight. However, if anyone felt that way, they would have immediately been proven wrong when they saw how you and Seungcheol worked seamlessly at each other’s side.

Seungcheol had insisted that you were a valuable asset to the team, and while you believed that your appeal came from the sole fact that you were practically a microsoft office god who was amazing at schedules, Seungcheol knew that you were more level headed when it came to business decisions than you let on. While his original intentions were to have your support when speaking to haughty investors, he soon came to realize he valued your insight more than anything.

“Mr Choi, shall we head over to the next panel now?” Seungcheol figured that the tiresome weekend had just begun to take its toll on you. Your eyes were slightly hooded, and a soft, almost dreamy smile had somehow broken through your cool business persona. He liked it when you smiled, you were always pretty beforehand, but he would say that your smile made you look younger, and a little more at peace.

“Right, I can take over for now miss ln, you can head back to the hotel room and rest for the remainder of the day. We still have that dinner tonight, and I don’t want you to be tired.”

“What about you though?”

“I’ll be fine, just make sure to get some rest, okay? Is it alright if I walk you back to your room?”

“Thank you, but I’ll be just fine, you need to be at the next panel soon anyway.”

You bow your head once more before heading off in the direction of the exit. Seungcheol knew that he would see you in a few more hours anyway. It was your first trip out of the country, and he didn’t want you to be drained by the end of it. While you had somehow managed to keep your distance from him all weekend, Seungcheol still managed to learn a few more things about you in the pockets of downtime.

He learned that you were all alone in Seoul, and that you chose to work elsewhere because of the lack of opportunities in your hometown. You didn’t talk much about it, but Seungcheol could tell that your previous places of employment weren’t so good to you, from the way you shifted your eyes at his questions. You weren’t too acquainted with each other, so Seungcheol didn’t pry.

He also learned that you were more of a tea person, hence why you couldn’t help but wrinkle your nose a little when Seungcheol sipped onto his bitter caffeine in the mornings. (Seungcheol of course didn’t know about your fondness towards him when he drank from a perfect order in one of those tiresome mornings). You always booked his appointments early in the morning because he was less likely to make impulsive decisions earlier in his day, and you noticed that the longer Seungcheol spent thinking about a decision, the better the outcome was for the company.

You liked to invite the new interns into his office frequently, because one time when you accidentally gave the green light to a freshly graduated intern, Chan, to enter Seungcheol's office, he left with the biggest smile on his face and rambled to you about how amazing the boss is (you already knew that, of course). You had been letting in new interns whenever Seungcheol wasn’t busy since he was the perfect example of a good mentor, and you wanted everyone in the company to learn of his down to earth, almost fatherly-like nature.

Additionally, you liked to collect different kinds of plants, and Seungcheol made a mental note to gift you a set of succulents at the next office Christmas party. You had a knack for witty jokes, and Seungcheol found himself laughing at the side commentaries you would make after another attendee made an arrogant comment about something neither of you particularly cared about.

You were, for a lack of a better word, intelligent, interesting, and funny. Seungcheol admired how dedicated you were to your career, but he wished you would just stay this way without losing any aspect of yourself.

The rest of the conference went by smoothly, and Seungcheol was pleased to have made more connections in hopes of expanding Going Company into international markets in later years. The conference was going to end with a dinner banquet, and if he was being honest, he had little motivation to go. Back to back early mornings was something Seungcheol had grown somewhat accustomed to, but the constant monitoring of his words and the never ending flow of conversation left him exhausted.

“Mr. Choi, we are to head to the dining hall in approximately fifteen minutes,” Seunghceol sighs when he hears your voice softly echo from the other side of the door. Seungcheol, he’s been asking that you call him Seungcheol when you were no longer in business settings.

When he opened the door to find you in a gorgeous shimmery dress that not only emphasized your beauty, but also made you glow, Seungcheol forgets why he was so opposed to the dinner in the first place.

“Your tie.”

Without another word you move closer to Seungcheol to adjust the tie around his neck properly. Seungcheol tries not to notice the soft curve of your lips, or the gentle flicker of your eyelashes that accompanied the air of elegance that wafted around you.

“Yn, I—”

“I’ll be handing in my letter of resignation once we come back to Korea Mr. Choi.”

“What?”

You had been in the company for barely over a year and Seungcheol thought that you had really enjoyed the flexibility of your schedule and the bonds you had formed with your colleagues.

“Is it Soonyoung from advertising? I know he can be a little energetic but I can have a chat with him and ask him to tone it down a little. Did you not like the event the marketing team held last month? I know it was a little different from what the company is used to but I want you to know that your opinions are valued and— or was it me? Did I forget to approve your last vacation claim—?”

'It’s none of that Mr. Choi, Going Company has the best company culture that I could have ever asked for. You were the perfect boss, and I thank you for letting me have an amazing work experience.”

“But why?” Seungcheol knew that it was no longer his place to be asking you about such things. You were in no way obligated to give a reason, but his emotions have gotten the better of him. He really, really liked you, and he felt guilty for making this a personal matter.

“I— I don’t think I can work under you anymore. I’m sorry but it seems that— I might have—”

You aren’t sure where the words are coming from. You were definitely not going to tell Seungcheol that you were quitting your job because you had fallen in love with him.

“I can’t give you an explanation, but I am going to resign and find a suitable replacement in due weeks time—’

“Yn, I like you.”

You feel your whole body freeze and stare up at your boss, no— Seungcheol, who for the first time in the several months you had worked at his side, looked a little unsure.

“Don’t say that. I’m going to start searching—”

“Will you just listen to me?” You were always so quick to respond to whatever Seungcheol asked you to do. But this time you felt as if you had lost the ability to speak.

“Be honest with me yn, are you— do you like me? Even just a little bit?”

You aren’t sure where your voice went. It’s somewhere far away but you have no intention of finding it. You hoped you could just melt into the ground and go back to your hometown without having to be in this situation. Life was much simpler there, there were no fast-paced evolving corporations and there were no endearingly nosy bosses.

“I do like you, very much so— and I’m not going to let that interfere with everything you have worked so hard for, and I’m sorry—”

“Please don’t apologize. Please don’t be afraid of me. And please don’t be afraid to fall in love, even if you would like nothing to do with me.”

“It’s not professional, what happens if something goes wrong?”

“Then we’ll work through it! You want to be serious about this right?”

You find yourself choking up, so you could only reply with a small nod of your head. This weekend was almost impossible to get through. You had promised your family that you were going to work hard and make it big in Seoul, this situation was something you never had expected to happen. You didn’t want to tell them about all the horrible treatment you had gone through under past employers. You avoided mentioning the sleepless nights, little pay and the side jobs you took on to pay the bills.

When you had secured a position at Going Company, the business was still small and trying to have its big break. You weren’t expecting the company to grow rapidly in just a little over a year, and you knew a big contributing factor to the company’s success was because of Seungcheol and his persistent efforts towards the employees. You didn’t want to tell your family that you had fallen in love with the first person that had treated you as an equal in the soul-sucking world of corporations.

“How do I know if I don’t like you just because you’re nice to me? You wouldn’t want someone like that, would you?”

“Well, do you?” This was the first time Seungcheol had seen you lose a bit of your composure. If he was being honest, you looked a little panicked and if you were under different circumstances, he would wrap his arms around you and curse every being that had made you think, for even a second, that you weren’t allowed to feel things like love. “What is it that you like about me?”

“I like your dedication to your employees. You never cared about what their position was and always valued their thoughts and opinions regardless. You never raised your voice when someone made a mistake, and you would always guide them through it. You never seem to lose your passion, even when the day goes haywire…”

You kept your head bowed down as you rambled on about the true feelings you had towards your boss. You felt pathetic, and you were not looking forward to receiving a call from home asking if you had finally settled on a job that was perfect, and that had met all your needs. If only your family knew that you were constantly in between jobs because several workplaces had been unkind to you, not because you were ambitious and were not willing to rest until you found something exactly to your liking.

“Would you like to try to make it work?”

There it was again. Seungcheol’s way of speaking never failed to amaze you. He would have never forced you to come on the business trip unless you agreed to it. He didn’t force you to speak with him for the entire plane journey and he didn’t further insist that he walked you to your hotel room. Everything always came down to your choice, and you knew that Seungcheol definitely was not going to force you into attempting a relationship, even if he knew that you shared the same feelings.

This is why you loved Seungcheol. And the realization brings you a comforting peace that you had been searching for, for so long. You were going to tell your family that you had found the perfect job, and you were going to say that it had everything you could have asked for. You were also going to tell them that you had found someone who was your perfect match. And that you wouldn’t trade either for the world.

“Can we? You know— try? I really, really would like to try.”

“Then we will, and we’re going to make it work.”

“Is it okay if we talk more about this once we’e back in Korea though? We’re still in the middle of, you know, business stuff.”

Seungcheol laughs for the first time in the evening. He’s tired, but it’s hearty and full, he can’t believe that you somehow regained your professional attitude in the midst of all this. “Of course we can, you know, after all this business stuff.”

You return Seungcheol with a small, shy smile of your own. It is to no surprise that you two are absent from the conference dinner that night. You spend the rest of the night in comforting, yet meaningful silence as you two do your own separate things to regain some energy and relax after a tiresome weekend. At some point you order takeout, and you start calling him Seungcheol. At a later point, you fall asleep in Seungcheol's room while watching one of the kdramas the hotel tv was broadcasting at the time. Your world is lovely, and you have found your peace.

#ficscafe dpe #ficscafe #choi seungcheol x reader #seungcheol #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol x you #scoups #scoups x reader #seventeen x you #seventeen x reader #seventeen #seventeen scenario #seventeen scenarios #seungcheol scenarios #fallinchan fic: your choice

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lumosandnoxwriting · 4 years ago

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Honey, Flowers and Pinky Promises - Fred Weasley

Title: Honey, Flowers and Pinky Promises Pairing: Fred x Fem!Reader Summary: Fred denies himself the one thing he wants most in life, a future with Y/N, to keep her safe. So, what’s he to do 5 years later when she reappears in his life, safe from harm and with their future together already started. A/N: For the anon who wanted Fred breaking up with the reader before he leaves school, only to find out she gave birth to his kids a few years later! This was actually a very cute idea and very fun to write! As always feedback is appreciated and requests are open!!

tag list: @pandaxnienke @feltondarling (send a message if you'd like to be added!)

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“Everything is all set,” George says quietly as he takes a seat next to Fred at dinner. “I figured out where our brooms are, and I found the spell we’ll need to get them out of the enchantments Umbridge has them locked up with.”

Fred hums and nods absentmindedly, not really paying attention to what George is saying. He’s too busy watching Y/N. She’s sitting a few seats away with her friends, laughing at something one of them has said. Y/N looks absolutely gorgeous and carefree, and Fred’s heart pounds in his chest as he watches her.

“Everything all set on your end?” George asks, nudging Fred.

“Almost,” he responds. When George smacks him upside the head Fred finally turns to glare at him. “What the hell was that for?” he asks, rubbing at the spot George’s hand hit.

“I did all the hard stuff! All you had to do was pack the bags and set up the swamp for us to set off,” George scolds. “We leave tomorrow, Fred!”

Fred rolls his eyes. “That’s not what I was talking about git.” He turns in his seat so he can look at Y/N again. “Bags are set and so is the prank.”

“Oh,” George says softly, feeling stupid. He follows Fred’s gaze and frowns. “You haven’t told Y/N yet?”

“No,” he admits. “She’s not going to like what I have to say so I’ve been putting it off for a few days to get as much time with her as possible.”

“I thought Y/N supported the whole joke shop thing?” George asks, his confusion evident in his tone. “There’s only two months of school left, I can’t imagine she’ll be that mad.”

Fred bites his lip and tears his gaze away from Y/N so he can look at George. “It’s not the joke shop she’s going to be mad about.” Fred swallows thickly. “It’s the fact that I’m going to break up with her that’s going to upset her.”

“What?” George asks in shock as his eyes widen. “You’re joking right?” When Fred doesn’t move George hits him. “Tell me you’re joking.”

“No, I’m not joking,” Fred whispers, hanging his head. “It’s for the best.”

George nudges Fred so he’ll look up at him. “What do you mean? You’re madly in love with her and she’s madly in love with you, how can breaking up with her be a good thing?” George leans forward to whisper in Fred’s ear. “You’ve talked about marrying her, Fred. What changed?”

“The world has changed, George,” Fred says suddenly, scaring his brother. “Percy disowning us, us joining the Order, our family being a target for You-Know-Who and the death eaters. I can’t bring her into that, I can’t risk her life like that.” Fred clenches his fist. “I love her too much to let her get hurt.”

“So, you’re going to break up with her, to keep her safe?” George asks, trying to understand Fred’s point of view.

“I know it seems weird but it’s the only way that I can keep her safe. Even if it kills me to do it,” Fred sighs. He lets himself look at Y/N again, and his heart breaks when she returns his gaze and smiles at him warmly.

“Freddie,” Y/N greets as she takes the last few steps down the staircase and into the common room. It’s well past midnight, and Fred had left Y/N a note to meet him downstairs. She moves over to him quickly and sits next to him on the couch. “I feel like I’ve barely seen you this week.”

Fred resists his urge to cuddle her close and leans in to kiss her briefly. “Sorry, love. Been busy doing stuff with George,” he lies. Truthfully Fred has been distancing himself from her over the past few days. He knows breaking up with her is for the best, but it doesn’t make it any easier. Y/N is like a drug to him, the more he’s around her the more he craves her touch and her presence. If he allowed himself to spend every waking moment with her like he desired he’d never get the nerve to end it.

“Joke shop stuff?” Y/N asks excitedly and when Fred nods she smiles at him. “I’m so proud of you, Freddie. You’re working so hard on all that stuff with George, and I just know you guys are going to make it big.”

“Thanks, love,” Fred says quietly, praying that his voice doesn’t crack. He leans forward and presses a lingering kiss to Y/N’s forehead, taking a deep breath in. She smells like honey and flowers and Fred thinks it’s the most comforting scent in the world. Normally it would make all the stress leave his body, but tonight it punches a hole in his chest.

Y/N pulls away from Fred and cups his cheek so she can make him look her in the eyes. “What’s wrong, Fred?” The use of his actual name knocks the air out of Fred’s lungs. He’s always Freddie to her, unless they’re talking about something serious. “You’re not acting like yourself. What’s going on?”

Fred moves away from Y/N further down the couch, and he puts his hand up to stop her from following him. “We need to talk about something.” He can feel tears forming in the back of his eyes and he blinks furiously, trying to keep them at bay. “We can’t, we can’t see each other anymore. Be together anymore.”

“What?” Y/N asks, her voice cracking. Tears spring to her eyes and start to slowly wander down her cheeks as confusion and sadness start to flow through her veins. At dinner just that evening Y/N had mentioned to her friends that she suspected Fred was going to propose after graduation, and just a few hours later he’s shattering her heart into a million pieces.

“I’m breaking up with you, Y/N,” Fred says clearer, his bottom lip trembling. “We’re done. Over with. I can’t be with you anymore.”

Y/N sobs and when she reaches out to grab Fred he stands up quickly. “Don’t do this Fred, please. I thought everything was okay with us. What went wrong? I can fix it Fred, please.” She wipes away some of her tears, but fresh ones just keep replacing them when she looks into Fred’s cold, emotionless face. “I love you Fred. Don’t you love me too?”

Fred closes his eyes, so he doesn’t have to look at the pure heartbreak on Y/N’s face. He loves her more than life itself, and that’s why he has to do this. “I don’t love you anymore,” he says coldly, opening his eyes to look Y/N in hers. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly, before turning around and heading up to his dorm, the echoes of Y/N’s sobs following behind him.

Y/N doesn’t think much of it when her period doesn’t arrive like it’s supposed to three days after Fred and George leave school. She just had her heart broken by the boy she thought would be her forever, so it makes sense to her when she misses it completely. And when she starts to feel lethargic and has random nausea spells in the following few weeks Y/N attributes it to stress; her chest still aches with the thought of Fred and NEWTS are coming up.

Y/N doesn’t start to panic that it may be something more until she misses another period. Her chest still feels empty without Fred, but she’s just graduated and she’s excited for her life to continue on. But the nausea is still there, and her ankles have started to swell, and she can’t help but notice that her boobs are sore pretty much all day every day. When she wakes up one morning and the smell of her mother cooking eggs sends her heaving into the toilet, Y/N can’t deny what she’s known deep down for weeks. She takes a test that afternoon and confirms her fears.

Pregnant.

Her parents are upset when she tells them the next day, and they urge her to send an owl to Fred immediately. By this point it’s no secret to anyone what Fred and George are up to, their joke shop has been open for weeks now and is the talk of the wizarding world. Y/N has often thought about heading to Diagon Alley to check up on Fred, but she always resists those urges. Fred was her first thought when she saw that little pink plus sign, but she can’t bring herself to tell him. Fred clearly didn’t want her to be a part of his future, and she’s not sure she’s ready to let him be a part of this future with her.

Y/N is 10 weeks along when her mother escorts her to her first doctors’ appointment, and to no one’s surprise its twins. Up until this point her parents had been adamant that she consider adoption as well, but as soon as the doctor announces its twins, Y/N’s decision to become a mother is solidified. These babies are going to be the perfect combination of her and Fred, her last connection to the boy she still loves.

Y/N gets a job doing copywrite work for the daily prophet, and a hefty inheritance from her grandfather allows Y/N to move to a cute brownstone in London when she’s eight months pregnant. She avoids Diagon Alley like the plague, too afraid of running into Fred or George. Her family and friends try and convince her to reach out to Fred, and Y/N really does try. She has dozens of unsent letters in a box under her bed, dating all the way back to the day she found out she was pregnant. Y/N thinks about sending them often, but her stomach lurches each time she tries to.

She gives birth to a perfect, healthy baby boy and an equally perfect and healthy baby girl on a snowy day in December. Y/N names her son Phoenix, to match the fiery red hair that’s already sprouting out of his tender head. And she names her daughter Electra, to match her bright eyes and to remind Y/N that she and her brother are the light at the end of a very dark road. They both remind her so much of Fred, and it makes her journey into parenthood harder than she thought it would be.

The war is tough on everyone, but Y/N manages to survive it. It’s hard, raising two children alone during the darkest times anyone has seen, but it builds her confidence in her parenting abilities. She falls in love with herself and being a mother, and it only strengthens the bond she has with the twins. They’re without a doubt the best thing that has ever happened to her and watching them grow swells her chest with pride. In the blink of an eye the twins are 4, and the world Y/N had created for them suddenly comes crashing down.

“Damn,” Y/N mutters to herself as she examines the jar that usually holds Abraxan hair. “Forgot to get more.” She’s not the best at potion making, but she had found one in her youth that will temporarily change the color of your hair, and Electra had woken up that morning with the desire to turn her fiery red locks purple.

“Mummy said a bad word,” Phoenix teases, kicking his legs excitedly.

Y/N turns around and playfully rolls her eyes at the twins. They’re sitting at the table gobbling down pancakes as per usual. While they both sport the same red hair as their father, Phoenix is the spitting image of Fred, and it used to make Y/N’s heart ache. But it’s been almost 5 years since Fred broke her heart, and the pain no longer lingers. Electra takes after Y/N, her soft features and eyes nearly identical to her own. Unfortunately for Y/N they both inherited Fred’s love for pranks and jokes, and she finds herself collapsing into bed every night exhausted from the mischief they create.

“That’s because Mummy is allowed to say bad words,” Y/N teases. She puts out the fire beneath the cauldron she’d been brewing her potion in before taking a seat at the table with her kids. “We’re going to have to run into Diagon Alley after breakfast. I need to stock up on some things to make your potion, Ellie.”

“So, you can say shit, but we can’t?” Ellie pouts, putting her fork down.

“Hey!” Y/N says, trying not to laugh. “What did I just say? Bad words are for adults to use during the appropriate situation. They’re not for little kids to say at the breakfast table.”

“That’s so not fair,” Phoenix sighs, putting his fork down as well. “How old do we have to be to be adults?”

Y/N takes a sip of her coffee, shaking her head. “Older than 4 I can tell you that.”

“Five then?” Electra asks excitedly, her eyes lighting up.

Y/N gives both twins a look that makes them burst out into a fit of giggles. “Hurry up and finish your breakfast or we’ll never make it to Diagon Alley before it gets crowded.”

45 minutes later Y/N apparates into Diagon Alley, a twin holding each hand. Normally she avoids taking the twins with her whenever she needs to shop, fearful that Fred may be lurking around every corner. But she just needs to grab a few things, and it’s early enough that most of the stores are closed, and when Y/N looks over her shoulder it seems that Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes is no exception.

“Here come on. We just need to grab a few things and then we’ll go home, and I’ll be able to put the potion in your hair, sound good?” Both twins nod excitedly and Y/N smiles at them. “And no running away!” she adds with a laugh, before pulling them both into the store behind her.

“There were just the cutest little red head twins outside,” Verity calls dreamily from her place in the front window. They’re still a few minutes from opening, so she’s waiting by the door for it to be time to unlock it.

Fred comes down the last few steps from his flat into the shop, fixing his tie. He comes to stand next to Verity, peering out the window with her. “Really? George and I better watch out, they may try and steal out thunder,” he jokes.

It’s started to barely snow when the door to the Potion supply store just down the road swings open, and two little kids with fiery hair are running out to twirl around in the snow. Fred goes to say something, but his mouth runs dry when someone else follows the kids out. “Y/N?” he asks, almost unable to believe what he’s seeing. He hasn’t seen her in almost five years, and his heart has started to pound in his chest.

“You know her?” Verity asks, watching as Y/N chases the two little kids around in the snow.

Fred nods, almost unable to believe what he’s seeing. Y/N is there in front of him and Fred’s blood runs cold as he watches the little girl run into Y/N’s arms. “Hey Verity. How old do you reckon those kids are?” Fred has a few nieces, but he’s absolute shit at telling how old kids are.

Verity hums, watching them closely. “I’d say anywhere from 4 to maybe 6? It’s kinda hard to tell through the window but they’re definitely no younger than 3.” Fred makes a noise from behind her, and she turns to look at him. “Why? What’s wrong?”

Fred just stands there, unable to form a coherent sentence as his brain puts the pieces together. Not only is Y/N out there with two young children, they both have fiery red hair that looks quite like his, and their approximate age makes it very likely that Y/N could have been pregnant with them during their last year when he broke up with her.

Before Fred has truly processed the fact that those very well might be his children playing in the snow, he’s throwing the door to the joke shop open and heading out into the cold. Both of the kids are giggling like crazy, and it makes Fred’s knees quiver as he approaches. “Y/N!” Fred calls when he’s only a few feet away.

Y/N freezes at the sound of her voice being called by someone far too familiar. She grabs a hand of each twin and pulls them close to her side as she stands up. “Fred,” she says flatly, looking up at him. Her heart feels like it might beat out of her chest, and she can’t help but look Fred up and down. He looks older, more mature, but still so familiar to Y/N.

“What are you? What is? Who are?” Fred stutters as he tries to find just the right words.

He lets his eyes wander from Y/N’s face down to the two little kids standing at her side. Both of their cheeks are flushed red from the cold, and as Fred looks at the little girl there’s no denying that she’s Y/N’s daughter. Her eyes are the same color as her mother’s, and her cheeks have the same roundness. He looks to the other child then, and his jaw nearly drops. It’s as if he’s looking at a baby photo of himself that his mother has hanging on the walls of the Burrow. The little boy has the same brown eyes as Fred, and an almost identical freckle pattern splashed across his cheeks. If there was any doubt in Fred’s mind before it’s gone now. There is no denying that he’s the father of these children.

“Mummy,” Electra asks, tugging on Y/N’s hand. She waits for her mother to look at her before she continues. “Who is that?” she asks, pointing towards Fred.

Y/N swallows thickly and squats down so she’s eyelevel with the kids. “That’s Mummy’s friend Fred, from school. I’ve told you about him and his brother, George. Remember?” She gestures behind Fred, towards the shop. “They own the joke store where Papa buys all those little things for you two to prank me with.”

Both twins giggle at that, looking at Fred with awe. He can barely believe the words he’s hearing, and he’s frozen in place. The little boy lets go of Y/N’s hand and takes a few steps towards Fred and holds his hand out.

“It’s great to meet you, Mr. Fred,” Phoenix greets. When Fred tentatively bends down and shakes his little hand, he smiles. “I’m Phoenix and that,” he pauses so he can turn back to point at his sister. “Is my baby sister, Electra.”

“Only by 5 minutes!” Electra shouts, running towards her brother. Phoenix takes off then, and Fred watches as they chase each other around in the snow, the wind blowing through their hair and both of them laughing like crazy.

“They just turned four, in December,” Y/N says as she stands up.

Fred tears his gaze away from them so he can look at Y/N. “How could you not tell me?”

Y/N shrugs and looks away from Fred’s intense stare. “You made it pretty clear that I had no place in your life or in your future, I didn’t want to go through that again. And I didn’t want to share them with you, if I’m honest.”

“Share them with me?” Fred asks, trying to contain his anger. “They’re my kids Y/N. Not some stupid toy.”

“Obviously I know that, Fred,” Y/N sneers with a glare. “But I was barely 18 when I found out I was pregnant, and I’d just had my heart shattered out of nowhere by the guy I thought I was going to marry. So, excuse me for not running right to you. I was freaking out when I found out I was pregnant and being rejected by you for a second time wasn’t high on my list of priorities.”

“I still deserved to know,” Fred responds, less angry. He hadn’t of even thought about that. Of course, Y/N would have been scared and unwilling to come to him. He still can’t think about the night he ended things without getting emotional, and he can’t imagine how it felt for Y/N, especially finding out she was pregnant only a few months later.

“I know, I know,” Y/N admits sadly. They both just look at each other for a moment, the twins still running in circles around them.

“Where do we go from here? I can’t just pretend they don’t exist,” Fred says quietly. “I want to be in their lives, Y/N. I need to be.” Fred pauses to swallow the lump in his throat. “But there’s things we need to talk about. About that night, the things I said to you. Can we do that, please?”

Y/N nods and reaches into her bag for a spare piece of parchment and a pen. She scribbles something down and reaches out to hand it to Fred. “Here’s my address. Come by tonight? The kids go down at 8 so come any time after that, we won’t have to worry about any little ears listening in.”

Fred grabs the piece of parchment, letting his hand linger on Y/N’s for just a moment. The contact sends a shiver down his spine and Fred thinks his heart might just beat out of his chest. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“Great.” Y/N calls both kids back to her, and they each wave at Fred before taking their mother’s hand and apperating away.

“Mummy?” Electra asks that evening as Y/N is getting her and her brother ready for bed. The twins are standing on little stools and brushing their teeth while Y/N runs a comb through their freshly washed hair.

“Yes, my love?” Y/N responds, making eye contact with her in the mirror.

“When can we see your friend again?” Electra asks once she’s spat her toothpaste foam into the sink. “The one from today?”

Y/N bites her lip and starts to braid Electra’s hair. “You mean Fred?” Electra nods as best she can and Phoenix nods excitedly next to her. “You guys like Fred?”

“He’s so tall!” Phoenix muses with a giggle. “You think I’m ever gonna be that tall, Mummy?”

Despite the fact that they’re the same age, Phoenix is already a few inches taller than Electra. He clearly takes after Fred, so Y/N is sure that he’ll end up being just as tall as his dad. “I think you might be, bud.”

“And he’s got red hair like us!” Electra adds with a giggle. “I’ve never met anyone with red hair before.”

“Well your hair isn’t red right now,” Y/N teases as she wraps a hair tie around the end of Electra’s braid. Her potion making was successful, and for the next few days Electra’s hair will be a soft purple color. “Can I tell you guys something crazy?” Both of the twins turn so they can look at Y/N and nod happily. “Everyone in Fred’s family has red hair.”

“No way!” Electra and Phoenix gasp at the same time.

“Everyone?” Phoenix asks in awe.

Y/N nods and reaches out to ruffle his still damp hair. “Every single one. And you guys have something else in common with Fred too.”

“What is it? What is it? What is it?” Electra asks excitedly, bouncing on her stool.

“Fred is a twin too,” she says with a laugh, pressing a kiss to Electra’s forehead. “His brother George that he runs his store with is his identical twin.”

Phoenix hops off of his stool so he can come over and hug Y/N’s leg. “Wicked. So, we can see him again?”

“Maybe, sweetheart. I’m not sure yet,” Y/N says honestly. Fred wants to be in their lives, but they still have so many unresolved issues. The last thing she wants to do is get their hopes up only for Fred to be gone just as quickly as he came.

Electra wraps her arms around Y/N’s middle and hugs her close. “Please Mummy,” she begs, looking up at her with wide eyes. “He seemed really nice. And he was really cute!”

“Electra,” Y/N laughs. “That’s enough out of you. Fred is my friend and I won’t be having any talk like that.”

“Do you think he’s cute?” Phoenix teases, looking up at Y/N with a cheeky grin.

He looks so much like Fred in that moment, and it nearly knocks the breath out of her lungs. “You two are crazy. It’s time for bed, monkeys. Let’s go.”

“That wasn’t a no!” Electra shouts as she jumps from her stool and follows her brother out of the bathroom.

Y/N has just come down the stairs from putting the kids to bed when there’s a soft knock at the door. She sighs as she looks around at the mess her living room as turned into. Y/N planned on cleaning up a bit before Fred arrived, but it took forever to calm the twins down after their conversation in the bathroom. She’d had to read them two stories and admit she thought Fred was cute before they would drift off.

“Hey, come on in,” Y/N greets as she pulls the door open for Fred. This is the first time she’s seen him up close, and he’s just as handsome as she remembers. Y/N tries to calm her heartbeat down as she shuts the door behind him. “Sorry about the mess. The twins have just started getting their magic and it’s hard to keep up with them.”

Both Electra and Phoenix had started to exhibit signs of magic just after their fourth birthday, and ever since they’ve been more chaotic than usual. If Y/N didn’t know any better she would think that they somehow have managed to already control what little magic they have, because it always seems like they’re working together to cause as big of a mess as possible.

“Don’t worry about it,” Fred says as Y/N waves her wand, watching as things fly back into place. “George and I gave Mum a run for her money, so I’d expect nothing less from my children.” The words feel funny in his mouth. His children. As exciting as the idea of being a dad is, Fred would be lying if he said he also wasn’t scared shitless.

“Can I get you something? Wine? Firewhiskey? Tea?” Y/N asks, gesturing for Fred to take a seat on the couch.

Fred sits down slowly, watching Y/N fidget. “Most people assume I drink coffee.”

“Well I’m not most people,” Y/N responds, flushing slightly.

“You’re not wrong about that,” Fred says quietly. “I’m alright, Y/N. Thanks though.”

Y/N nods and sits down next to Fred, making sure to keep a good amount of distance between them. “So,” she starts, looking over at Fred. “Where do we even begin?”

“I don’t have any idea,” Fred answers truthfully. “I never really thought I’d ever be having a conversation like this. There’s so much I wanna say to you. And stuff I wanna ask you. But I have no idea where to start.”

Y/N clears her throat. “Can I ask you a question?” When Fred nods she takes a deep breath to try and calm herself. There are things she needs to know the answer to, no matter how much it hurts. “Why did you break up with me? It came out of nowhere, for me at least. One minute we were talking about building a life together and the next, you were gone.”

“There was a lot of stuff going on, with my family,” Fred starts, trying to find the right words to explain himself. “My parents were a part of this secret society founded by Dumbledore to fight Voldemort called the Order of the Phoenix. And just before Christmas break my dad was almost killed by Voldemort’s snake during a mission.”

“Fred,” Y/N says softly, fighting her urge to reach out and grab his hand. “How come you never told me any of this?”

“I wasn’t allowed to, Dumbledore’s orders. But going through all that, it made me think about stuff. About me and you and life outside of Hogwarts. George and I decided that we would join the Order once we left school, and I couldn’t put your life in jeopardy like that, Y/N. Our family was being targeted by death eaters and followed around. I knew it would only get worse as time went on. And if you had gotten hurt because of me, I would never be able to forgive myself,” Fred pauses, running a hand through his hair. “So, when George and I decided to leave school early to start the shop, I decided it would be best to end things with you. That’s the only way I knew to keep you safe.”

“So, you didn’t just randomly stop loving me?” Y/N asks meekly.

“God no,” Fred answers immediately. “Y/N I loved you more than life itself. If I knew you were pregnant, or you came and told me I would have grabbed you and ran as far away from Voldemort as possible. It killed me to lie to you like that, but I wanted you to be safe and happy, even if it meant that it wasn’t with me.”

Y/N goes to respond, but she lets out a groan when the phone rings. “Probably my Mum, I’ll be right back. If I don’t answer she’ll just show up and I don’t think either of us wants that.”

Fred laughs as Y/N walks away, unable to stop himself from watching. Having children has done great things to her body, and he can’t help but appreciate it. He’s thinking about how beautiful she still is when the sound of soft pattering on the stairs catches his attention.

“Fred?” Electra asks, her lower lip wobbling as tears streak down her face. “Where’s my Mummy?”

“She’s in the kitchen. Do you want me to go get her?” Electra shakes her head, and before Fred can process what’s happening she’s heading towards him with her arms outstretched. Without hesitation Fred picks her up and places her in his lap. Her little legs wrap around his middle and she tucks her arms into her chest before resting her head on his shoulder. Fred’s hands shake as he hugs her to him tightly, one of his hands coming up to stroke her hair. “What’s wrong, Angel?”

“Bad dream,” she sniffles.

Fred’s heart melts as she snuggles in closer, and he starts to slowly rub her back. “It’s alright, Angel. You’re okay. Everything is going to be okay.” He presses his cheek to the top of her head and inhales deeply, the familiar scent of honey and flowers overwhelming his senses. His chest aches as Electra, his daughter, cries, and he so desperately just wants to make her feel better. “I’m right here, Angel. Nothing’s going to hurt you. I’ll keep you safe.”

“Promise?” Electra asks, pulling away to look at Fred.

Fred leans forward and presses a kiss to her forehead. He’s aware that he’s probably breaking about 100 boundaries, but he can’t find it in his heart to care. His little girl is sitting in his lap crying and he’s going to make sure she knows he cares for her. “Promise,” he answers, holding out his pinky finger.

Electra lets out a giggle and hooks one of her pinkies around Fred’s. “You have to keep it now, forever,” Electra reminds him, squeezing his pinky tight.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Fred presses another kiss to her forehead before he wipes away some of her tears. “Feeling better now?”

“Loads,” Electra confirms with a nod. She bites her lip, giving Fred a look. “Can I ask you a question?”

Fred chuckles. “Sure, Angel. What’s on your mind?”

“Do you think my Mummy is pretty?” she asks, shocking Fred. “Because she thinks you’re cute.”

“Does she?” Fred asks in surprise. Of course, Fred had hoped Y/N would still find him attractive, and he hasn’t stopped thinking about her since this morning. He never imagined that he’d be reunited with Y/N so he never let himself imagine creating a future with her, but now she’s back in his life with his kids and Fred would be lying if he said he hasn’t thought about what that could mean for them.

“Mhm, she told me and Phoenix before we went to bed.” Electra nudges him. “So, do you think she’s pretty?”

Fred smiles at her. “Don’t tell her, but I think your Mummy is absolutely gorgeous,” he tells her quietly.

Electra giggles excitedly and hugs Fred tightly. “I think you should ask her to be your girlfriend. Mummy’s never had a boyfriend even though Grandma keeps trying to give her one.”

“Oh?” Fred asks, raising his eyebrows at her. “And how do you know all this?”

“I can be real quiet when I want to be,” Electra answers, giving him a cheeky smile and a wink. “Papa thinks it’s because she’s still in love with our Daddy.”

Fred practically chokes on his saliva and he has to take a few deep breaths to calm himself down. He can hear his heart pounding in his chest and his pulse is thrumming. “Do you know a lot? About your Daddy?” he asks, unable to stop the question from coming out.

Electra shakes her head. “Mummy doesn’t talk about him a lot. Only if Phoenix and I ask. She tells us stories sometimes and talks about how funny and kind he is. And that they loved each other tons. But that’s it.”

“Does it make you sad? That you don’t know a lot about him?” Fred asks. This is definitely not an appropriate conversation to have with a four-year-old, but he can’t seem to stop himself.

“Sometimes,” Electra answers with a shrug. “I love Mummy so so much and she’s the best Mummy in the world. But I think it would be nice, to have my Daddy around too. And I think it would make her happier too.”

“What would make who happier?” Y/N asks as she comes back into the room.

“Nothing. I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Electra answers, winking at Fred.

Y/N crosses her arms and gives the girl a look. “What are you doing out of bed, Ellie?”

“I had a bad dream. But it’s okay, Fred made me feel better.”

“Well that was very nice of Fred to do,” Y/N says quietly. “But since you’re feeling better I guess you can get back in to bed now, hm?”

“I guess,” Electra pouts. “Can I ask you a question first?” she asks, holding her arms out for Y/N to pick her up.

“I suppose,” Y/N answers, picking her up and settling her on her hip.

“How come you lied to us? Before bed you said you didn’t know if we’d see Fred again, but here he is, sitting on our couch.” Electra’s tone is stern, and her eyes are narrowed at Y/N.

Y/N laughs. “I never said I wasn’t going to see Fred again. I said I wasn’t sure you and your brother were going to see Fred again.” Electra frowns at that and Y/N presses a kiss to her forehead. “Now say goodnight to Fred.”

“Goodnight, Fred,” Electra grumbles as Y/N starts to head back up the stairs.

“Goodnight, Angel,” Fred says back with a chuckle.

“I’m sorry about her,” Y/N says as she comes back down the stairs a few minutes later. “I hope she didn’t say anything too crazy.”

“Nothing too bad,” Fred reassures with a laugh. “Though she did mention she’s quite the eavesdropper, so I’d keep an eye on her.”

Y/N groans as she flops onto the couch. “She told you about the boyfriend thing then?” When Fred nods she groans again, her cheeks heating up. “It’s all she’s talked about for weeks, literally anyone that will listen to her gets to hear about the fact that I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“I think it’s cute,” Fred insists. “She clearly loves you a lot and just wants you to be happy.” Fred bites his lip. “How come you don’t date? If you don’t mind me asking. Electra has theories but I’d like to hear from you.”

“Of course, she does,” Y/N says with a laugh. “Truthfully, I’ve never had the desire to date anyone else. I always say it’s because the kids are young, and I don’t want to confuse them or bring people around them, but I have gone on a few dates here and there. No one ever feels like the right fit. We were together for so long that everything just always seemed so natural between us. Like we always knew what the other was thinking. Trying to date other people just feels weird, and artificial.”

Fred nods, running a hand through his hair. “I feel you. I’ve had my fair share of failed relationships over the past few years. I think the longest one lasted maybe three months?” he sighs. “I realized I kept trying to recreate what we had with every girl I dated and it’s not fair to them. What we had was special. Irreplaceable.”

Y/N watches Fred for a moment. Before today she had been positive she moved on from Fred, he hardly occupied her thoughts anymore and her chest would only occasionally ache. But after seeing him today, finding out the truth about what happened that night. She can’t help but notice that feelings for Fred she buried long ago have started to rise up again with full force.

“So, you’re not seeing anyone right now?” Y/N asks quietly.

Fred shakes his head and turns so he’s facing Y/N fully. “No, and I haven’t been for quite a while.” He looks her up and down, trying to decide what to say next. “But there is this woman, who I haven’t been able to stop thinking about since I saw her today.”

“Oh?” Y/N asks coyly, subtly moving a bit closer to Fred.

“Yeah. And just a few minutes ago her daughter was telling me how cute her Mum thinks I am, and that I should be her boyfriend.” Fred smirks as Y/N’s cheeks flush red. “And I couldn’t help but tell her daughter just how breathtakingly beautiful I find her Mother.”

Instead of responding, Y/N chooses to be bold and she grabs the front of Fred’s shirt, pulling him into a slow kiss. Their lips move together just as perfectly as they always have, making it seem like no time has passed between them at all. Y/N moans as Fred deepens the kiss, letting him pull her onto his lap.

“You’re incredible,” Fred pants as they pull away. He leans forward to press a kiss to her forehead. “I’ve missed you so much, Y/N. You have no idea.”

“I’ve missed you too, Freddie.” Y/N buries her face in Fred’s neck, letting him hug her close. They sit there in silence for a few moments, just enjoying being together again.

“How should we tell them?” Fred asks, breaking the silence. “About who I really am? I’m okay, with being just your friend Fred for a bit while we figure everything out. That might make it easier.”

Y/N pulls away and gingerly grabs Fred’s face. “You deserve to be in their life as their dad and they deserve to have you in their life that way too. I thought seeing you with them would fill me with jealousy but honestly, seeing you with Electra, it made my heart burst with happiness. And Phoenix would not shut up about you before bed, it was actually really cute.”

Fred chuckles. “They’re just like their Mum, can’t resist my charm.”

Y/N flicks Fred on the nose and then kisses the same spot. “I’ve been thinking about how to tell them throughout the day and I think I have a good idea. All you have to do is come by again tomorrow, around 8 again. Sound good?”

“Sounds perfect,” Fred murmurs, before pulling Y/N into another heated kiss.

“Alright guys, it’s time to start getting ready for bed,” Y/N says as she walks into Electra’s room the next night. Both kids groan and turn to pout at their mother.

“Five more minutes,” Phoenix begs.

“Please, Mummy!” Electra adds.

“You can have five more minutes.” When both of them cheer Y/N puts a finger up to quiet them down. “Or we can start getting ready for bed right now and you’ll get a special bedtime treat. Which would you prefer?”

Phoenix and Electra look at each other for a moment before they drop the toys they’d been holding and run past Y/N into the bathroom.

“Is the special bedtime treat that we get to sleep in bed with you?” Phoenix asks thirty minutes later as he snuggles into Y/N’s pillows.

“Not quite, it’s even better than that,” Y/N responds as she helps Electra on to the bed. She drops to her knees then and grabs a medium sized shoe box before standing back up.

“What’s in the box?” Electra asks as Y/N climbs into bed and settles in between her and Phoenix.

“Well,” Y/N starts, letting her hand slowly drag over the top. “There’s a few different things in here. When I first found out you two were growing in my belly, I started writing letters to your Dad. But I was too scared to send them, so I kept them all in here.”

“Are you going to read them to us?” Phoenix asks softly.

Y/N shakes her head. “Not tonight. There are a few other things in here I want to show you. Inside this box along with all of those letters, is all the pictures I have of your Dad and I from when we were at school together.”

“We get to see them?” Electra asks excitedly.

“Mhm,” Y/N confirms with a nod. “You guys are getting older now and it’s time you know a bit more about him.” Y/N slowly lifts the lid of the box and grabs the small stack of photos on top. She takes a peek at the first one, before holding it out for both of them to see. “This is from our seventh year, we were walking down to Hogsmeade, the little village outside of school. And one of my friends took this picture of your Dad carrying me on his back.”

Electra and Phoenix’s eyes roam over the photo. Fred isn’t very visible in the photo, just his red hair is visible over Y/N’s shoulder. This is one of Y/N’s favorite memories she has of Fred. She’d stubbed her toe just as they left the castle, and Fred had made a spectacle of it. He insisted on carrying her everywhere, no matter how many times Y/N demanded he put her down.

“Show us another one,” Phoenix requests quietly.

“This one is from our sixth year,” Y/N explains as she shows them the photo. “Hogwarts participated in something called the Triwizard Tournament, and there was this great big ball on Christmas.” The photo just captures Y/N and Fred’s side profiles, each of them smiling as Fred sways them side to side.

Electra frowns and her eyebrows knit together as she looks at the photo. “Hey, he looks kinda familiar,” she muses, looking up at Y/N. “I think I’ve seen him before.”

Phoenix pouts. “What? That’s not fair.”

Y/N chuckles and shakes her head. “Let me show you one more photo, okay?” She takes the next photo and holds it face down for a moment. “This one is just your dad. I took it in front of the black lake just a few weeks into our last year.” Y/N flips the photo over slowly, watching as both Electra and Phoenix focus on it intently.

“Wait a minute, isn’t that,” Electra starts.

“Fred!” Phoenix finishes excitedly. “So, Fred isn’t just your friend?”

“No baby,” Y/N says quietly, trying to keep her emotions in. “Fred was my boyfriend at school, and he’s your Dad.” Y/N pauses, and she hears the front door click shut. “And I think he just walked through the front door.” Both Phoenix and Electra squeal excitedly as they scramble off the bed and head towards the stairs. “Be careful!” Y/N shouts as she starts to follow them.

Fred has barely taken off his coat when he hears the sound of tiny little feet running towards him. He turns towards the stairs just in time to hold out his arms and catch Phoenix and Electra as they jump off the last few steps and into his chest. He wraps one arm around Phoenix and the other around Electra so he can hug them tightly.

“Hello to you too,” he chuckles, pressing a kiss to each of their heads. He inhales deeply, overwhelmed once again by the scent of honey and flowers. “You guys miss me that much already? I just saw you yesterday,” Fred jokes, trying to hide how emotional he feels.

“Yeah but yesterday you were just Fred,” Electra giggles.

“Today you’re our Dad,” Phoenix adds with a laugh.

Fred laughs and puts them both down on the ground and crouches so he’s eye level with them. “Is that okay? That I’m your Dad?”

“Is it okay? It’s like the coolest thing ever!” Phoenix insists, hugging Fred again.

Fred returns his hug, rubbing his back. He holds his other arm out and looks at Electra. “What about you, Angel? It is okay with you?”

“Better than okay, Daddy,” Electra confirms, letting Fred hug her tightly.

Y/N comes down the stairs then, tears forming in her eyes as she watches Fred hold their children close. Phoenix is the first to notice her presence, and he pulls away from Fred so Y/N can pick him up.

“Why are you sad, Mummy?” he asks, wiping away a few of the tears that have started to stream down her cheeks.

“I’m not sad, baby,” Y/N insists. “Just really, really happy.”

Fred stands up then and picks up Electra, settling her on his hip. “Hi love,” he greets, leaning forward to kiss Y/N briefly.

Electra squeals in delight as their lips touch, and Phoenix pretends to gag, causing Fred and Y/N to laugh as they pull away.

“Does this mean we get to be a family? Forever?” Electra asks excitedly.

“Forever,” Fred confirms, kissing her on the forehead.

“Pinky promise?” she asks, holding her little pinky out.

Fred hooks his pinky around hers, gesturing for Phoenix and Y/N to do the same. “Promise.”

#fred weasley #Fred Weasley imagine #Fred Weasley fanfiction #fw #golden

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talatomaz · 4 years ago

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chased away by shadows | hailey upton x fem!reader

a/n: i didn’t include a love confession but i did reference it. after 8x11, we saw how hailey reacts to those words and honestly, i get it bc i’m kinda the same so i just changed it up a bit.

not a huge fan of this and there’s not as much hailey x r as i initially wanted but oh well, hope you still like it anon

(feedback/positive comments are appreciated)

requested by anon: “hi! can i please request a hailey upton x intelligence love interest reader please? it’s been a really rough case and reader is quite depressed and hailey comes over and reader ends up falling asleep safe and warm in hailey’s arms and in the morning there is a love confession maybe? hope that makes sense, thank you x ”

warnings: mentions of assault, death, murder. usual canon violence

word count: 1.6k

masterlist | navigation | request rules

i do not give you permission to repost or translate my fics on any platform - likes/reblogs are okay and are much appreciated

“Upton and I will take the front. Burgess, Atwater, secure the back.”

You ordered, whispering into your comms.

It had been a rough couple of days.

The Intelligence Unit had caught a rape and murder case with seemingly no witnesses or leads to the sick bastard who’d done this.

Like the rest of your team, you were damn near losing the end of your rag at the lack of leads and it didn’t help that this brought up some unwanted memories from your past.

You shrugged them off, not wanting to get emotional at work but it was difficult. Especially when you had no idea who you were looking for.

But you’d managed to catch a break as one of your CIs had contacted you, telling you that they had heard about some gang member who’d been boasting about “having fun with a chick before popping her off”.

After some further investigation, you’d managed to identify the man. He had a rap sheet about as long as your arm, including prior battery and assault charges.

It was only when Halstead had found out that he was holed up in a supposedly vacant property that you’d all geared up, armed to the nines because you knew the kind of heat this gang carried.

“On my mark.” Halstead said into your comms.

He waited a few moments for you all to get into position. You were standing behind Hailey, your hand on her arm, alert and ready to conduct your search.

“Be careful.”

“You too.” You replied softy to your girlfriend.

You’d been dating for the past 6 months, having fallen into bed one night after a evening out at Molly’s. You’d both agreed to keep it a secret as it was a one-time thing but what you both didn’t realise at the time was just how much you liked one another.

It had soon become a habit. The two of you sleeping together after everyone gathered for a social call at Molly’s until one evening, Hailey told you that she liked you and wanted the two of you to be more than just sex.

You were surprised to say the least because there was never any indication that she liked you. In fact, you thought she was out of your league considering how beautiful and smart she was. But you decided to take the leap and you were so glad you did because you loved being with her.

Not that you’d told her those words yet, mind you.

It was a tough thing to say, for you anyway, especially after your past alongside the lack of any emotional attachments with your parents. And you knew Hailey had her fair share of trauma too, the majority of which you learned after you and Ruzek overheard her telling a suspect they had in interrogation.

And although your relationship wasn’t without its flaws, it had pretty much been smooth sailing since the moment you’d got together. No unnecessary drama or bullshit.

That was the last thing the both of you needed in this type of job.

“Now.” Halstead ordered so you gave a quick nod to the blonde before yelling “Chicago PD!” as Hailey kicked the door down.

There were a few offenders in the house who tried to run when you’d entered and as Hailey and the rest of the team went to secure them, you made your way up the stairs to see if there was anyone else hiding out.

Your arm was extended, gun clutched carefully in your hand, finger just next to the trigger, ready for any indication of movement. Reaching the landing at the top of the stairs, you entered one of the bedrooms. As you stepped through the door, someone jumped out and hit you in the head with a bottle. It shattered upon contact with your skull and the force threw you as you groaned in pain.

You began fighting the male, who weighed at least 100 pounds more than you, so it was no small feat. You wrestled with the gun he’d aimed at you before kicking him in between his legs and throat punching him.

As he coughed to catch his breath, you grabbed your gun that had fallen out of your hands and aimed it at the man crumbled on the floor. Ignoring the way blood seeped from your wound and down your face, you yelled, “Chicago PD. Stay down or I will drop you.”

Staring down at him, you realised that it was the man you’d been looking for and when he looked up at you with a sinister smirk on his face, you wanted nothing more than to shoot him where he lay.

But you had more self control than that so, instead, you kept your gun trained on him and called downstairs for back-up.

In less than a minute, Hailey and Jay were right beside you. Jay handcuffed the suspect and you re holstered your gun.

“Baby, are you okay?” Hailey asked frantically, her hand gently cupping your face as she examined the cut on your forehead.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” You said, releasing the breath you didn’t realise you’d been holding.

“Are you sure? You’re bleeding pretty badly.”

You winced when Hailey touched the wound.

“Shit, sorry.”

“It’s fine. Come on, let’s go.”

✧── ･｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

After apprehending the suspect, Hailey had forced you to be checked out by one of the paramedics who’d arrived to take care of one of the offenders that Kevin had shot. They’d cleaned and stitched the wound and told you to take some paracetamol for the pain.

Now you were currently watching Voight and Halstead take lead on interrogating the man who’d attacked you at the house.

The man was so vile that you had to force yourself to not jump through the two-way glass and smack him silly. He’d copped to the murder but wouldn’t admit to the rape, sitting there with a smirk on his face.

“She wanted it rough. She was a slut. I just gave her what she wanted.”

The words continued to ring in your ear as they were words that you, yourself, had once been told. Forcing the bile back down your throat, you watched as Voight moved to stand behind the man, his hands on his shoulders.

“I’d watch your mouth if I were you.” Voight said, the threat lingering behind his words.

Your hands clenched into fists as he continued to speak.

“I ain’t gonna apologise for banging that whore. She got what she wanted.”

You could feel your anger boiling until it threatened to consume you so you left the viewing room and briskly walked to your desk.

You grabbed your coat that was hung on the back of your chair and ran out of the precinct; ignoring how your girlfriend’s eyes bore in your body as you hurried out of the building.

She decided to let you go, knowing that you needed space for a few hours.

✧── ･｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

When you got back to your apartment, you fell down onto your couch, picked up one of the throw pillows and screamed into it, your frustrations coming to a blow.

You went from screaming to crying out of anger and old pain until you felt a hand on your shoulder that startled you. You hadn’t even realised Hailey had used her key to enter your apartment.

“Oh, baby.” Hailey murmured when she saw how red your eyes were.

She placed a soft kiss on your cheek and went to your freezer to grab an ice pack. She wrapped it in a table cloth and gently rested it over your eyes, the coolness soothing your swollen eyes immediately.

You tried to take the ice pack away from her but she simply tsked at you; too tired to fight, you instead relished in her taking care of you.

“Sorry.” You mumbled, finally gathering the courage to speak.

“It’s been a rough couple of days, honey. No one blames you for your reaction.”

“That’s not why I’m so...so angry and why I’m like this.” Your voice barely louder than a whisper but Hailey still heard you.

“What do you mean?” The blonde asked, furrowing her brows in concern. But her eyes told you that she already knew what you meant and that made your heart hurt.

“I just-I. It was a long time ago, back in high school. I’m over it but cases like these just bring it all back up, you know?” You sighed, deciding to remain ambiguous whilst knowing full well she knew exactly what you were referring to.

“Oh, baby,” Hailey repeated as she wrapped her free arm around you and pulled you close.

“The guy ended up confessing not long after you left. Voight stuck him in the cage and he ended up having a change of heart.” Hailey told you as she placed soft kisses on your forehead.

Your derived snort was muffled as your head was buried in Hailey’s chest but she heard you and chuckled in response.

“You’re safe now, y/n. You’re safe with me.” Hailey whispered, breaking the peaceful silence that had filled the room.

Her words brought a sense of calm to you as you sighed contently in her arms.

Gently removing the ice pack from your eyes, she put it on the table before lifting your chin up with her finger, bringing you in for a deep, reassuring kiss.

“I-I’m glad you’re in my life, Hailey” You said, catching yourself before you said those three words. You weren’t ready to say them aloud just yet and you had a feeling that your girlfriend felt the same way.

The blonde smiled knowingly, kissing your lips once more before hugging you close to her as you both got comfortable on the large couch you were still on.

“I’m glad to have you in my life too.”

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ejlovespie · 4 years ago

Text

Over Time

Fandom: Supernatural

Author: EJ (@ejlovespie)

Summary: After a nasty argument and a drunken mistake. Dean and the reader have some issues to work through, it’s not easy though.

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 2198

Warnings: Angst/Cursing/Drinking/Cheating/Spanking/a lil’ bit of Angry & Degrading Sex/ Kind of fluff

A/N: Reader’s Request: “Sooo I was wondering if you would do a request please? A little bit of angst with some fluff later...the reader has cheated on Dean and the couple is trying to work through it, but it's been tough.”

Thank you for the request anon; I hope you like it! I also wrote this for one of my @spnkinkbingo squares - Infidelity

I really struggled to write this one but I was hoping that this may bring some perspective into the mind of someone who strays? Any feedback is greatly appreciated and any mistakes are mine. Thank you for reading! :)

Your head pounded violently as you stared into the bright light of the sun. Stumbling out of the dingy motel, you shielded your eyes as you walked. With the start of a new day and a lack of alcohol, you were realizing the huge mistake you had made. You don’t even remember the name of the guy you left in the room; he was just as forgettable as your night together. All you had to take away from it was a severe hangover and an overwhelming amount of guilt. You were a cheater and now you had to go home and tell Dean what you had done. Tears rolled down your cheeks as you walked to the bar where you had left your car. Your stomach rolled violently and you darted sideways into the grass as vomit rose up in your throat. You heaved into the bushes for a moment before groaning in pain. It was a hot day and both the heat and your dehydrated body made the walk painfully slow. By the time you reached your car, it was mid afternoon. You jumped in and turned the key before plugging your dead phone in on the charger you kept there.

Your heart sank when you saw the five missed calls from Dean. Shit. No texts, no voicemails. Your heart started to race thinking about the fight you had last night. It was the same argument you had many times before. It was about work and how you felt like Dean cared more about hunting than you.

"You're always gone Dean and I never know if or when you're coming back. I always get left behind and I'm so scared. We both know that one of these days you're not going to walk back through that door and I don't know what I'm going to do when that happens."

His response was, "You knew what you signed up for." You had gone round and round for hours before you stormed out of the bunker and drove to a bar outside of town. With a sigh, Dean had let you leave without further argument. Your only plan was to get drunk and sleep in your car. However, when the guy at the bar had started to flirt with you, you hadn't told him off or said you had a boyfriend. It was harmless, even flattering at first, but when the drinks kept coming, your inhibitions went out the window. You forgot about your big fight with Dean and all the fear and loneliness you had been feeling and you let him take you to a motel.

Tears rolled down your face as you drove home. What could you say? It didn't matter how sad and lonely you were. It didn't matter how drunk you had been. It didn't matter that it meant nothing to you. You were still a cheater and you knew this would hurt Dean. You knew, even if Dean could forgive you, you would never forgive yourself. The drive was quick and before you knew it, you were pulling into the bunker’s garage. You probably looked just as bad as you felt and you cried harder for a moment before you wiped your eyes and stepped out of the car. Time to face the music you thought to yourself. You found Dean in the kitchen where he was making himself a sandwich. Thankfully, Sam wasn’t there to witness what was about to unfold.

Setting your bag on the table, you cleared your throat and Dean half turned to greet you. Seeing your face, he fully turned around. His eyes were worried but everything else about him was tense as he leaned against the counter, his arms crossed and his jaw shut tight. He didn’t rush over to you and ask if you were okay. He didn’t move or say anything at all, just waited for you to explain. In a sob you rushed out an explanation,

“I was with someone last night. I..I’m so fucking sorry Dean. It didn’t mean anything and I was shit-faced drunk. I...I don’t expect you to forgive me but please know I regret it and I will never ever do it again. I love you..so much and I am just so scared of losing you.” The tears had started again and they ran down your face as the words rushed out of your mouth. You had started hiccuping about half way through and the anxiety and fear in your stomach was growing as Dean continued to stare blankly at you. Oh God. Please say something. After a long moment, Dean turned back around and finished making his sandwich before he walked right past you out of the room. He didn’t say anything; he didn’t even look at you and your heart sank. Dropping into a chair at the table, you buried your head in your hands and sobbed.

It had been days before Dean had even looked at you. After you had come home and told him what you did, you had taken a long shower and had gone back to your shared room to find Dean’s things gone. This was the first time you had not slept together, while Dean was home, since you had started dating a year ago. A few weeks passed and still, Dean had barely spoken to you. Anytime you tried talking to him about anything other than work or meals, he would ignore you and walk away. You knew you had to give him time and space to work through his emotions but you were terrified he would never forgive you. If you were being honest with yourself, you didn’t even know what you guys were anymore. He hadn’t said the words to break up with you and he hadn’t asked you to leave but it was like you had become awkward roommates. Sam had obviously noticed the tension and had asked you a few times what had happened. Eventually you had broken down and told him everything. He was shocked and disappointed but he had hugged you and said something generic like “you guys will work through it.” There was no sincerity in his voice though. Neither of you thought Dean would forgive you. He would most likely push you away completely and then you would be just another person who let him down.

A few weeks turned into a month and nothing changed. Sam and Dean continued to hunt and you continued to stay home, researching and keeping things in order until they got back. Dean had never moved back into your shared room so you had resorted to stealing his clothes and climbing into his bed when he wasn’t home. You missed him desperately. You missed his gorgeous smile and boisterous laugh. You missed his touch. You couldn’t remember the last time Dean had hugged you, let alone kissed you. The loneliness and grief you had felt before had grown tenfold. Most nights you cried yourself to sleep hugging Dean’s pillow or one of his soft shirts.

It had been over a month of walking on eggshells and sleepless nights when things finally changed. The boys had come home from a hunt and you had gone to bed early. Not quite asleep, you were shaken awake violently and your eyes flew open to find Dean’s angry and heated ones, staring at you in the dark. Sitting up in bed, you had reached for him, to ask what was wrong, but Dean growled and flipped you over. Bending your body so you were on your knees, you felt his hand reach out and yank your panties down your legs. Gasping, you cried out when Dean slapped your ass, hard, before bringing his fingers to your sex. This had been the first time you had been touched in weeks and you moaned and pushed yourself onto Dean’s hand. He growled and pulled his hand away before he slapped your ass again. You heard rustling behind you before Dean leaned close to your ear and demanded,

“I want you and I won’t be gentle. Tell me I can have you; tell me you want this.”

Whimpering you nodded in the dark before quietly answering him, “I’m yours, Dean.”

A second later you felt him behind you. He slapped your ass one more time and then plunged into you from behind. You cried out again from surprise, not pain. From this position, he filled you completely and the sensations you were feeling were so intense. It felt so damn good. Dean let you adjust to him for a few seconds before pulling out and slamming into you again. He did this over and over for a while, occasionally grunting or growling like an animal. You moaned at the intense rhythm. It was aggressive and rushed and not at all like your previous lovemaking but it felt amazing. Dean was fucking you, with no consideration of your own pleasure. Your nipples rubbed against your shirt and you reached a hand back to rub your clit but Dean grabbed it. He didn’t want you to find pleasure in this and tears pooled in your eyes as you realized Dean was using you. This was a punishment for what you had done. In a broken voice you croaked, “Dean, stop.”

He did immediately. You felt him pull out of you and the bed dipped as he got off. You flipped over and reached out to turn your lamp on. Dean was already trying to walk out the door and you cried out, “Enough is enough Dean Winchester! You can be pissed at me but you can NOT use me and walk away. I have been patient but we are going to talk. Now.” His steps faltered and he paused at the door before spinning around. You gasped at the look on his face. He was furious.

“You want to talk. Fine.”

You got out of bed at the same time as Dean took three large strides back into the room. You were now standing before each other, both angry and finally ready to talk. Dean practically screamed in your face. “HOW COULD YOU?! Y/N, how could you let some douchebag touch you. How could you let it go so far? How could you stay the night?” His face and voice had changed from rage to sadness. His eyes were so sad it made the tears you had been trying to hold back fall freely. He was so hurt and it was your fault.

“Dean. I..I never would have done it sober. I was so lonely and so sad and scared that you were going to die on a hunt and that I would never see you again. I drank way too much to drown it all out and it just happened. I don’t even remember the encounter. I will never forgive myself but I need to know if we can get past this. If we can’t, then there’s no sense in dragging this out.”

Dean had started crying too and he looked up at the ceiling as if he was looking for some kind of direction from God. In a soft voice he said, “I don’t know if I can get past this Y/N. I don’t know if I will be able to trust you again.” Your heart broke at his words and you let out a long sigh. “What if we go back to what we were before? I know it won’t be easy..but what if we just work on being friends again? Maybe we can work past this over time.” Dean nodded and hope filled your chest for the first time in a long time.

It took close to a year for the wounds to begin healing. You never had any more sexual contact after that night and it was months before Dean hugged you. Your heart fluttered when he did and quietly you had thought to yourself that it was worth the wait. You made an effort to keep the bunker stocked with his favorite things like beer, whiskey, and a wide array of pies that you would bake for him. You started small at first, watching TV and movies or cooking dinner together. After a while you would go on supply runs together and eventually, you were even invited to go on a hunt. You were not allowed to fight or do anything you had no training or experience in but it felt so good to be included. You felt like you were a part of the team and that had started to mend your broken heart. You and Dean had started talking about more than just work. Without either of you saying it, it had felt like he was starting to forgive you. You blushed thinking about the few times where you had caught Dean checking you out; and vice-versa. You still felt the guilt from cheating, that would never really go away, but life was moving on and you knew that you and Dean had a chance of getting past it. Deep down you knew you would be together again and you would be stronger than you were before.

Tags:

@akshi8278 @wellfuckmyexistence @spnkinkbingo

#dean winchester #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester angst #sam winchester #spn #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural angst #supernatural fluff #spnkinkbingo

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duskholland · 4 years ago

Text

I'll Take Care of You | Peter Parker

summary ↠ you’re a med student who falls into the habit of patching up Spider-Man

wc ↠ 4k

warnings ↠ some descriptions of injury (but nothing very graphic because I am a wimp), light swearing, fluff

a/n ↠ based off a request I had for a doctor/patient fic with Peter. I didn’t want to do that exact dynamic, so I put a spin on it and had some fun with it! I hope you enjoy, anon! any feedback would be gratefully received :’))

It’s 11pm on a chilly October night, and you’re hunched over one of the high wooden benches in your university’s lab. The only light in the room comes from the lamp you’re settled beside, and you’re completely lost in thought as you practice your running stitches on a rather beaten and bruised banana. You can’t quite seem to get it right, and with each failed attempt at securing an even stitch, you find yourself growing more and more frustrated. You’re about to pack it in and call it a night when there’s a loud crash behind you, and you spin around to see the shady figure of someone attempting to break into the lab.

“Fucking hell,” you mutter. Your heart rate spikes and your mouth runs dry, fear replacing your irritation as you watch a dark stranger jimmy open the window at the other side of the lab. You freeze, eyes wide in fear, and cower back as the person topples through the window, cursing lowly. They scramble to their feet, brushing themselves down, and when they take a step towards the centre of the room, your eyes light up with terrified recognition. “Spider-Man?!” You exclaim.

It might be dark in the lab, but that doesn’t prevent you from making out the red and blue lines of the familiar spidersuit. You didn’t think it was possible to be even more shocked than you were, but then the figure stumbles towards you and crashes to the ground, and you realise the darker spots on the suit are patches of blood.

“Help me…” Comes a high, quivering voice.

Shaking like a leaf, you tentatively approach the figure. He’s curled up in a ball on the floor, and you grab a handy first-aid kit as you crouch beside him. The darkest patches seem to be around his torso, but you’re not sure how to access that without harming the suit. As if sensing your predicament, the man reaches up and presses a button on his neck. You gasp lightly as the entire torso section of his suit separates itself and dissolves into nothing, leaving you facing the exposed, clammy skin of New York’s favourite hero. Your eyes quickly identify his source of pain, and you find yourself wincing as you see the issue: there are several shards of glass impaled in his side, and they’re preventing his body from regenerating and healing. You know you’ll need to remove them.

“Okay, okay,” you mutter, steeling yourself. You quickly unzip the kit and pull out a pair of tweezers, some disinfectant, and a roll of bandages. You try to keep your voice as level as possible as you speak to the man. “You’ve got some glass stuck in your side,” you say calmly. “I’m going to pull them out and disinfect the wound. It, uh, it’s probably going to hurt, and I’m really sorry, but it could get infected if I leave them in.”

Spider-Man manages a breathless, “okay,” which you take to mean you can start working.

Trying to still your shaking hands, you press one palm to his chest as the fingers of your other hand wrap around the tweezers. You manage to get a grip on the larger shard of glass and slowly pull it from the wound. The hero tenses and curses, but he stays still, allowing you to quickly and safely remove the piece. Once the first one is out, you grow more confident and manage to clear the others within the minute. After inspecting the wound and deciding there’s nothing left in there, you drag a ball of cotton wool soaked in disinfectant over the gash.

“That’s you,” you remark. Your forehead has a line of cool perspiration over it, and you feel a wave of intense relief pass through you as you finish bandaging his side. You sit back and lean against a wooden bench, a deep sigh passing through your lips.

Spider-Man looks down at his side, the erratic movements of his chest slowly calming. It’s for the first time that you’re able to properly look at him, and you find your heart beating a little faster in your chest as your eyes make out the shadowed lines of his abs.

“Thank you, uh…”

“Y/N,” you supply.

You can sense the smile beneath the mask. “Thanks, Y/N,” Spider-Man finishes. He scoots himself back so he’s also leaning against a wooden bench, his body facing you. “I usually have to do that myself.”

A warmth tickles at your cheeks as you push your hair back and away from your face. “You don’t have, like, a team of people to do that for you?”

Spider-Man laughs, his voice light and airy. “Not exactly,” he replies. “I mean, I probably could if I wanted to, but I work better alone.”

Your lips curl into a frown. “Alone?” You echo. “Isn’t that kinda dangerous?”

Spider-Man shrugs. “I guess,” he says, voice drawling. “I’ve made it this far, though, so I must be doing something right.”

You laugh gently. “Yeah, right,” you tease. “If it wasn’t for me, you would’ve passed out and woken up with a nasty infection.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” he says, raising his hands innocently. He tilts his head to the side. “What are you doing here, anyway? No classes run this late.”

It’s your turn to feel a little embarrassed. “Oh, uh, I’m a first-year med student. Sometimes I stay back late to practice some of my sutures.” You point up to the desk and where a pile of your abused, half-stitched bananas sit. “It’s the only time I can get some peace and quiet.”

He surprises you by nimbly climbing to his feet and walking over to your workstation. As he moves, he presses a button on his neck again, and his suit closes over his chest. You find yourself frowning as the suit hides the rippling muscles of his back, and you quickly clear your throat to suppress that particular thought. You get up and join him, lingering a little behind.

“Not bad,” he compliments. He turns to look at you, and you know from the way the suit’s mask twitches that he’s smiling. “Med student, you say?”

You nod. “Yeah. So far I only know the basics, but it feels good to be able to give back to people.”

Spider-Man nods. “I know what you mean.”

A silence falls between you both, and you lean down to grab a scrap piece of paper. You quickly scribble down your number before passing it to him, the hero accepting it cautiously.

“Take it,” you plead. “Just in case you ever need anything. I live just off campus, and I’m usually awake at night. If you ever decide you need a medical squad, I’m your guy, alright?” Your lips pull into a smile as he pockets the paper.

“Thanks, Y/N,” he says, voice softer. He takes a few tentative steps back, looking at the window he entered through. “I should go. City to save, and all that. But… I really do appreciate what you’ve done for me tonight. Thank you.”

You manage a brave smile as you urge him towards the window, pretending it doesn’t shatter your dreams to bid farewell to the hero you know you’ll likely never see again. “See you around, Spider-Man. Stay safe!”

And he raises a hand in a quick wave goodbye before hopping from the window and disappearing into the night sky, leaving you, a messy lab, and a thousand thoughts behind.

You don’t hear from him for three months.

Over those long, twelve weeks, you start your first placement at the local hospital and soon become too busy to feel sad at his lack of contact. But still, occasionally, you’ll catch yourself with a dullness rounding out your heart as you think of the way he’d taken your number and since ignored you. A part of you is grateful he hasn’t needed you, but another is sad you only spent one night with him. Spider-Man has always been a bit of an idol to you, and the realisation that you’ll never see him again is a tough one to come to terms with.

It’s mid-January and 1.32am when your phone vibrates on your nightstand. You groan as you turn over, your body shifting beneath your rustling sheets as you blindly bat at the table before your fingers close around the device. You pull it in close, silently begging you’re not being called in to work a spontaneous night shift, and lazily force your eyes open as you read the texts.

[Unknown] hey where do you live ???

[Unknown] it’s spider-man

[Unknown] I need you

[Unknown] help

Suddenly you’re wide awake, and with trembling fingers, you quickly attach your location and send it off. You jump from your bed and turn on your bedroom light as you pull a hoodie around your torso. Luckily you live alone and have your own comprehensive first aid kit, otherwise, you know you’d be fucked.

You wait for about three minutes before there’s a sudden, loud knock on your bedroom window. Your heart catches in the back of your throat as you squeak loudly, spinning around to see a blurry figure behind the pane. You hurry over and quickly unlock the window, and jump out of the way just in time to avoid the very heavy, and very wet figure of Spider-Man as he rolls into your room, collapsing in a heap in the middle of your carpet. He’s groaning - loudly - and this time, he appears to have dislocated his shoulder.

“Pop it back in,” he whines, voice pulled tight with stress. He manages to sit up, hunched over as his good hand clutches at his shoulder. “Oh my god, I’m gonna pass out.”

“Calm down,” you manage, gulping. Luckily for him, you’ve just finished a rotation in orthopaedics, so you aren’t completely in the dark about how to help him. “Take a deep breath, Spidey.” You push his hand away from his shoulder and replace it with your own. “I’ll count you down. 3, 2, 1-”

He curses, expletives rolling down his tongue as you carefully, but decisively, pop his shoulder back into the socket. A sickening crunch fills the air, but a moment later, his entire body seems to relax. He sighs and slumps back.

“Thank you so much,” he manages, voice sounding a little weak. “I tried to do it myself but apparently that just made it worse.”

Your eyes widen. “Uh, yeah, that’s a terrible idea.” You pull yourself to your feet and quickly help him up, depositing the hero on your bed. “I’ll go get you some water, or something. You look terrible.” You don’t have to see his face to know that beneath the suit, the man is bruised and exhausted. His posture alone speaks volumes as he sits curled over on the edge of your bed, his head falling forward to rest in his hands.

When you return with a glass of water and a bar of chocolate, he lets you sit beside him as he gratefully devours them. To your surprise, the suit parts at his mouth and exposes the thin lines of his pink lips, letting you see his cheesy grin as he smiles at you.

“Always coming to my rescue, Y/N,” he says, voice a little stronger just after a square of chocolate. “Thanks.”

“It’s alright,” you reply. Suddenly you become very aware of the large, sagging bags beneath your eyes and the way you’re sure your hair is sticking up all over the place. “Anything for New York’s best.”

He chuckles slightly. Once he’s done with the water and the chocolate, he places both the glass and the wrapper on your bedside table and collapses back on your bed with a soft thump. He stares up at the ceiling, his breathing gradually growing slower. “How’s college?”

You shrug. “Busy,” you explain. “I’m in the hospital most days, learning how to do stuff. Never thought it would be so demanding, but it feels good to be able to make someone feel better.”

“You should get extra credit for helping Spider-Man,” he ponders, voice quiet but sweet.

You laugh. “It’s not exactly been difficult to help you, so far. I can handle a dislocated shoulder and a few bits of glass.”

“Oh, so you want me to be more injured next time I visit you?” You can practically feel the smirk in his voice as your face heats up.

“No! Absolutely not. I don’t mean that at all.”

Spider-Man’s laugh warms your heart. “I know what you meant.” He sits up with a sigh. “Your bed is so comfy, Y/N.”

“Help yourself,” you tease.

He laughs again as he carefully rises to his feet, rolling around his shoulder as if testing its capabilities. “Feels as good as new,” he says. “Thanks, Doc.”

“Any time,” you reply. You stifle a yawn, and Spider-Man crosses his arms over his chest.

“Get some sleep,” he orders sternly. He hops over to your window and wrenches it open easily. “Thanks for the water, and the chocolate, and the life-saving,” he adds, already with a leg swung out of your window.

“Bye, Spiderman,” you say. The smile fades from your lips as he disappears once more, closing the window behind him with a quiet thud. But the grin quickly springs back as you realise he might contact you again, now he knows where you live, and you can’t help but find a little comfort in that thought.

Over the next few months, Spider-Man visits you semi-regularly. He has you text him your rotation schedule so to ensure he never bothers you when you’re busy at the hospital, and that alone causes your heart to warm to him even more. It’s always small things he visits for: bullet wounds, dislocated joints, grotty injuries. Things that would seriously harm any normal human, but since it’s Spider-Man, they only graze him. You fix him up and then send him on his way, and that’s it, simply. A fleeting encounter and then he’s off.

And it goes on like this for a while, until a warm evening in May. You’re sat cross-legged on your bed as darkness falls across the city, curled up with a nice book as you enjoy your day off from college. You feel calm and collected, and you’re about to light a candle and crawl into bed when there’s a loud banging on your window and you startle.

You stare outside, but there’s no one there. It’s dark, so you put your book down and tentatively creep over to the window, confused as to the source of the noise. Curiously, you pull up the window, and that’s when you hear Spider-Man’s familiar groans, and you look down to find him crumpled in a heap on your fire escape. Instantly you’re filled with dread.

It’s very difficult to actually get the hero into your apartment, but you manage to haul through your window eventually. You set him on the floor where he lies motionless, his breaths shallow and pained, and your blood runs cold as you take in the state of him. You crouch down beside him, first aid kit in hand, and find yourself at a loss of where to start. His suit is covered in lacerations and dark, bloody marks, but you don’t have access to him at all.

Just as you’re beginning to despair, you remember the buttons on his neck and carefully reach up. You don’t know which ones to press, and you certainly don’t want to betray him by accidentally removing his face mask, but when he releases another pained groan, you just push at a few random buttons. The suit deflates and retracts from his chest and lower half, leaving him in his gloves, face mask and underwear, but luckily exposing all the areas you need access to.

You survey the damage and feel despondent. He’s been very badly injured, and you’re terrified you won’t be able to help him. But that fear is quickly replaced by a determination as your brain shifts into doctor mode, and your hands start working before your mind can even process what you’re doing. You start by applying pressure to some of the larger gashes on his chest, stemming the steady flow of deep crimson blood until it’s a weaker trickle, and you feel confident bandaging them in a tight white wrap. Then you clean out some of the smaller wounds and stick a few smaller plasters there. Once you’ve cleaned him up a bit, the damage doesn’t look so bad, and though his pale skin has the beginnings of some deep, yellowy-blue bruises forming, you don’t think he’s got any internal injuries.

“How are you doing, Spidey?” You manage, voice croaking hoarsely.

Spider-Man groans softly. “I don’t feel like I’m dying anymore,” he quips, “But I still feel horrendous.” He pauses for a moment before grabbing at your hand. He’s still got gloves on, but you feel the tenderness in his touch as he squeezes your fingers gently. “Call me Peter,” he requests.

You nod as surprise settles across you. “You’ve lost a lot of blood but I think you’ll be okay, Peter. I don’t really understand how your body heals so quickly, but you’re looking stronger already. I think you just need to rest.” You glance out at the dark night sky. “You should stay here overnight.”

To your surprise, he doesn’t disagree. “Okay,” he says instead. His grip on your hand tightens as he slowly tries to get up. You help him out as much as you can and quickly settle him on your bed.

“I’ve got some clothes you can wear, wait.” You turn around and go to rummage through your dresser, pulling out a spare t-shirt. You toss it to the bed, and when you’re back by his side, he’s slid it over his chest. He looks very odd, sitting on your bed, your t-shirt on his upper half, his boxers on his lower, and a mask on his face, but at this point, you just accept it. “I’ll go crash on the couch. Yell if you need-”

“No, no. That’s not right,” Peter interrupts. You can tell he’s frowning. “You can, um, stay here, if you want. With me. In here.”

Your face shifts into a surprised o. “Oh, no, really, I… You should have space to spread out,” you say. You can’t ignore the way your heart beats deeply against your ribcage at the idea of cosying up against the hero.

“Please?” He asks, voice sweet. “What if I suddenly crash in the night? Or start bleeding out? How will I live if my doctor isn’t here to help me?”

You roll your eyes. “Dramatic, aren’t you?” But you walk over to him anyway and help him settle into your bed. You flick off your light and shut your window, and then you tentatively climb into the other side of your bed, slipping down until you’re beneath the covers, the warm figure of Spider-Man beside you. You’re tense, and for a moment you just lay there, breathing unevenly, staring at the ceiling and wondering how the fuck you ended up in this position.

“I’m, um… I’m gonna take off my mask,” comes Peter voice, quiet, but still loud enough for you to hear.

“What?!” You exclaim. You turn over on your side so you face him, your eyebrows pulling towards your forehead. “Why would you want to do that?”

He shrugs, his slim fingers knocking up against his neck. “It’s dark,” he reasons. “I trust you. And honestly, I’m feeling kinda delirious and this thing can be a bit hard to breathe through.”

You swallow deeply and watch carefully as Peter slowly pulls the mask up, up, up. It rolls up over his chin, his mouth, his nose, and his eyes, and with each feature it reveals, you find yourself holding your breath even more. Because it’s dark, in your room, but it’s not dark enough to hide his face, and you realise in a terrifying moment that he trusts you - Spider-Man trusts you - with his most hidden secret: his identity. And that makes you feel incredibly special.

“Peter…” You whisper, voice escaping into the air. Your eyes trace all over his face as he flings the mask aside. He’s got lovely dark, wispy hair, that stands up madly in all directions, and deep, caring brown eyes that watch your face intently. Your gaze shifts to his nose, and you smile as you notice it sits a little wonkily to the side, and then you find the air being pulled from your lungs as your eyes settle on his perfect, parted lips.

He’s beautiful. Utterly, completely, beautiful, and you really wish he’d kept the mask on, because he’s made it very hard for you to lie there as your lips quirk into a smile and your heart races in your chest, and just do nothing.

But then he does something.

With a shaky hand, Peter reaches up to cup your cheek. He shuffles closer, his musky cedar-wood scent filling your nostrils as he places his head on your pillow. His long, roughened fingertips move over your cheekbones, scattering trails of warmth over your skin as he gently caresses your face, his eyes gentle and loving. “Thank you for always looking after me, Y/N.” His breath fans out across your features, drawing a warmth to your face.

You swallow deeply, subconsciously nuzzling your cheek into his hand. You stretch out your legs and they tangle with his, and excitement rushes through your veins as his other hand finds your waist and he pulls you closer. Your foreheads are practically pressed together now, the warmth of his body heat surging through you as you gaze into his eyes. “I’ll always look after you, Peter,” you promise, voice soft and sweet. “I care about you.”

The tip of his nose brushes against yours softly. “I care about you too, Y/N. So much.” His eyes flicker shut, his long, feathery eyelashes falling to a soft rest at the top of his cheeks. You follow suit, and with your eyes closed, it’s as if everything else is amplified: his tender touch on your cheek, his warm hand wrapped around your waist, his legs tangled with yours. You find yourself straining closer, desperate for more.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, finally.

“Of course.”

And then his lips are on yours, moving softly against your mouth. It’s tender at first, barely even a touch, but as you push back against him, it grows stronger, like a small fire gradually building heat. You reach for his figure and gently wrap your hands around his waist as you kiss him deeply, clinging to him, longing for him, enjoying the feeling of coming home as your lips move together. It’s soft, and warm, and perfect, and it seems to span an infinity as you kiss him in the dark, bundled up beneath the blankets together.

He pulls back after a few perfect minutes, his forehead pressed flush against yours as he pants for breath. “I love kissing you,” he murmurs. “I love being with you, Y/N.”

You drag a hand up through his soft brown curls, a permanent smile hanging from your lips. “Feel free to kiss me as much as you’d like,” you mumble.

He presses another sweet kiss to your lips and holds you close. “Oh, I fully intend to,” he promises. Then he drags his mouth to your forehead and leaves a scattering of light kisses to your hairline, and you relax back into his arms, a sense of fulfilment blossoming through your chest. He’s warm, and soft, and you know there’s nowhere you’d rather be than right here, bundled up in Spider-Man’s arms, drifting off into a gentle slumber. And as he presses a final kiss to the back of your head, you know he feels the same way, too.

any feedback? I would love to hear any thoughts you have on this!

masterlist

taglist ↠ see this post to be added :D

@behind-my-hazeleyes27 @stiles-o-dylan24 @stilinskiswritings @stealth-spiderr @youngblood199456 @flyingburrito123 @kiwijulia @theraggedwerewolf @stixnstripesworld @mischiefandi @penguinchick100 @hcomet28 @aftrrglo @scottish-sim @cosmicholland @pinkbubbles-and-bigtroubles @sweet-baby-cakes @apatheticanvas67482 @oh-whatabeautiful-parker @panadolle @rhapsodyparker @xxxxdelenaxxxx @blairscott @quaksonhehe

#Peter parker #Peter Parker oneshot #Peter Parker imagine #Peter Parker x reader #Peter Parker fluff #woohoo #I wrote this all this evening so if it's bad I apologise but ? I think it turned out kinda sweet n fluffy #any thoughts would be appreciated!#am still getting into the swing of writing #so any feedback welcomed #thanks for reading <3 #my writing #self-insert #y/n #y/n use #wahey #college!peter

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bowieandqueen11 · 5 years ago

Text

This Girl / Steve Harrington Fluff

Reader: Hey, could I have a Steve Harrington x reader where y/n went to high school with him. She was in the track team and everyone thought she was just a jock. She works at the mall and comes to visit him at work. But when Dustin comes she nerds out with him and makes Steve love her even more. She helps fight the mind flayer and is badass. She gets knocked out at one point so Steve freaks out and accidentally admits his feelings. Then have a happy ending. Thank you! I can’t wait to see it.

This is so adorable my lovely anon! All comments and feedback are much appreciated, and honestly mean a lot! <3

Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington. Now that was a name you were never going to forget. Especially as he happened to be your best friend.

High school had been tough, even with the coolest kid in Hawkins by your side. His friends were always vulgar, and rude, and quite obviously disapproved of you hanging out with them at lunch from the glares they gave you over the sticky canteen tables, bubblegum popping from their lips with an air of distaste. Sitting with someone from the track team for them was only okay if it was a hot guy they could hit on later, but Steve’s childhood best friend who constantly stole his thunder and attention? Not so much.

Sighing to yourself, you shake yourself out of your thoughts by pulling your blue apron over your head in preparation for your break away from the food court. Smoothing down your navy shorts and straightening your newly washed white dress shirt, you lift up the flap in the counter and skip away from the cash register, a small smile beginning to brighten your face at the thought of Scoops Ahoy, and at the prospect of seeing Steve’s adorable little hat that he’s so frustrated about during yet another thirty minutes of total bliss.

You still sometimes are awestruck by this great monstrosity that had managed to eat its way into the midst of small town Hawkins; the architecture, the domed roof higher than cathedral and made of the most beautiful swirling glass, a mirage of blue and white. The walkways flow with rivers of people, a sterile, blinding white tile that shine like the surface of a lake at sunrise. In the background is music to soothe, gentle flowing notes to take the shopper's cares far away, an ordered chaos full of life and hope.

Stepping into the shop, you laugh lightly to see a disgruntled Steve watching a smirking Erica walk away. Steve’s face brightens into a beaming smile as you approach.

‘Ahoy, my lady, I didn’t see you there!’

‘Steve, I literally come here the same time everyday, dipshit. Now. where’s my best friend?’

‘Hey! I thought I was your best friend?’

You shrug your shoulders, a smile tugging at your lips. ‘You’re up there. Definitely. But I have to say, David in the food court makes a mean smoothie. And what do you have, Mr Ice cream scooper?’

Whipping out his scoop and twirling it in his fingers, he runs around the corner, shock lining his expression before he comes stumbling to a halt in front of you, his little sailor hat slightly crooked over his hair. There’s silence for a moment, neither of you noticing Robin peer out with an amused, knowing smirk from the back room as the two of you start to break into giggles, before Steve comes barrelling into your arms.

You shove him out of the way however, ignoring the light gasp and ‘hey!’ that bubble from his lips as you see a mass of curls approach behind him, covered by a very recognisable red and white hat,

‘Henderson??’

‘Y/n!? Damn girl, I have missed seeing you.’

Running forwards, you nearly slip across the floor and straight into a metal chair to reach Dustin. You giggle lightly as Dustin chuckles along, the two of you doing your signature intricate handshake as Dustin hops lightly, overjoyed to see you working at the mall as well.

‘Hey...hey, hello? Earth to you two, I’m still here?’

Not noticing Steve’s plea, you wrap one arm around Dustin, before launching into a myriad of questions concerning how summer camp had been and whether he had time yet to go see Back to the Future and what he thought about the concept of time travel and on and on and on, your arms waving animatedly in the air and your eyes bright.

However, what you don’t see, are Steve’s eyes. Even as you yap, his eyes constantly lock onto your cheeks with a burning heat, willing the blush crawling up his neck to disappear as he sees Dustin pause for a moment, smirking back at Steve who only shakes his head with a giddy smile. As time seems to slow down for him, he can’t help but watch your breath rise and fall, or see the way the rays of light from the swinging lamps fall and light up the soft locks of your hair, bathing you in a halo of light, which he thought was rather fitting. Dustin was disturbed by the awe-struck look Steve was desperately giving you, his head which was tilted slightly suddenly snapping up as he heard Dustin’s high pitched giggles, turning his head towards Robin who raises her eyebrows and only replies by sliding the little counter window shut.

That was the moment Steve knew for sure, and it scared him a little to realise how furious these feelings now raged in his heart, having squashed them down to lie dormant for a while as the whole madness of the Upside Down carried on. He was ferociously, madly in love, and he couldn’t hide it anymore.

‘I’m so sorry, so damn sorry to have dragged you into this, y/n.’

‘Steve, you didn’t drag me into anything’, you try to shout over the deafening sound of bursting fireworks that fizzle and spin in bright red and blue sparkles in front of your eyes, continuing as the Mindflayer roars, ‘this was my own damn decision. Plus, I can’t just leave you all doped up for the Russians to take again, can I? What sort of best friend would I be.’

Steve’s lips twitch, and you swear you see tears well up in his eyes as he turns towards you, looking away from the Mindflayer. He steadies himself against the stone pillar, and you grimace slightly to see the blood that soaks his shirt as it pours like tears from the deep cut on his forehead, his hands shaking, but he’s not sure it’s because of the danger he finds himself in yet again.

‘I...I wish I had more time, y/n. There are so many things I wanted to say to you.’

His heart hammers as you squint at him. ‘I have so many questions, but you’re kind of scaring me with this whole ‘more time’ bullcrap.’

Your voice nearly breaks as you continue. ‘You better not be trying anything, Harrington.’

Steve rustles his shorts, one slipping up his thigh as he stares at you, afraid to move but knowing the only way he could keep you safe, the girl he had been in love with since the first day of school, the girl he had shared countless sleepless nights with, countless memories of road trips during summer break where it was just the two of them and his newest Queen cassettes, was to end this himself.

He finally allows the tears to slip down his cheeks, and you huff lightly as you finally take in his meaning. Letting out a shaking breath, you whisper, ‘not on your life, Harrington.’

Standing up, stumbling to your feet, feeling angrier and more indignant now than you ever had in your life, you turn to face the thing that had plagued this town and the boy who owned your heart for too long now, raising your arms out in tight fists by your side before running forward out of a floundering Steve’s grasp, as the Mindflayer just roars in your face.

The cold, slimy tendrils wrap around your arm and his midriff, scraping and winding around your bloody uniform as Eleven scrambles back, nearly falling down the steps as an eternity of razor teeth roar out into the near empty mall. You feel the heat of the firework’s flames as the Mindflayer moves closer, your grunts and moans of frustration bursting against your lips as you feel the blood start to trickle against your chin, feel the air begin to leave your lungs as your chest begins to squeeze. Hitting out against the thing, you kick and scrab and fight with all that’s left in you, closing your eyes tight and thinking only of Steve’s laugh. And for a moment, as its hold begins to loosen, it feels as if you’ve won.

The next thing you feel, however, is not a sharp point ripping through your chest, but the cold hard crack of your back as you hit against the cold tiles again. For a peaceful few minutes, you lose consciousness, dreaming of your childhood in short flashes, not noticing Steve stumbling to his feet, his eyes bloodshot and cloudy as his heart begins to pound, whispering small little ‘no, no, no, please god no’ ‘s to himself like a mantra as he hobbles across the tiles, his boots nearly slipping in his desperation to get to you, to hold you, to know that you’re alive. He pushed Mike harshly out of the way, falling to his knees by your side.

‘No, no, goddammit y/n, not now. You can’t die now, not now! Come on, I love you! Please, y/n, I love you. I can’t lose you now.’

Nancy never thinks she’s seen Steve cry so much before, but as she wanders over, watching the tears drip down his cheeks in hot streams, his eyes nearly shut with pain as his lips blubber, so unsure as to what or say or what to do as his hands tremble, hovering over your body, she’s frightened by its intensity.

‘Somebody-somebody call a damn ambulance! I can’t lose you now, y/n. Please, god just please. I’m an idiot, I know, but I’m you’re idiot, y/n. If you can hear me, please open your eyes.’

Pressing his head down onto your neck, he begins to sob gently, before they turn into devastating, racking sobs that echo throughout the silent building.

‘Why would you do that? Why would you do that, y/n?’

‘B-because I love you too’, you whisper, your eyes flickering awake to see his wide eyes hovering over you, nearly crying at the slight hope that glints in his forlorn eyes, not even caring about the pain in your head as he wraps his arms around your middle, resting his head just above your struggling, but strong heartbeat.

‘I swear-I swear if you ever do that when I’m just about to launch into a speech about my undying love for you’, he begins to whisper with laughing hiccups, ‘you’re never getting another free sundae again.’

#stranger things #stranger things 3 #stranger things imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #joe keery #joe keery imagine #steve stranger things #steve stranger things imagine #mike wheeler #the mindflayer #steve stranger things x reader

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pastelwitchling · 4 years ago

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Been watching the "Michael in Forlex fics" drama from afar, but after that last anon I have a message for the people: can y'all leave Rin alone? She can write whatever tf she wants and it's ridiculous that people think they can or should police her content. Don't like it? Too bad. Write your own goddamn fics

I’ll add to that message (thank you for coming to my defense, by the way, you really didn’t need to do that, these people don’t frighten me); Guys, I appreciate your feedback, always. If you have critique, even if it’s negative, then I don’t mind if you send it in.

But just as you’re having a tough time after that mess of a season, so am I. Just as you’re a fan of the show with feelings, so am I. You’re a person, I’m a person, it’s not that hard. Writing fanfics is supposed to be about fun. Writing angst is supposed to be stress-relieving and cathartic. I write angst. I always have. I write fluff as well, but angst is somewhat of a trademark of mine. If you don’t like that, I suggest, as this anon above me did, that you write your own fics. Block me, if it makes you feel better, but malex angst still exists.

I’m not a writer on the show, I’m a fanfic writer on tumblr. Don’t take your anger out on me. If I ever decide to post one of my original works, you can complain about that, but talking to me about how I’m misrepresenting Michael? This is how I see him, and I’ve made a million arguments about it, and I won’t change my mind just because you tell me seeing him like that upsets you. Talking to me about posting malex in the forlex fics? Yeah, only when malex is heavily included. I do the same thing with kylex and max x alex fics, even if Michael and Alex don’t end up together, when malex is a big part of the fic. To me, that’s malex, and, again, I have that right to tag it so.

But the worst, I think, is talking to me about posting it under malex to spite fans? How dare you? Not because it proves that you don’t know my blog or a thing about me (I mean, I posted a 30-page malex amnesia fic after the finale, for God’s sake, despite an extremely heavy depression period, because malex is the only thing that cheers me up), but because you took one look at a fanfic of mine and automatically assumed the worst. How many times do I have to post about my love for malex for people to get it? I don’t have to prove anything to you guys, but I constantly feel like I do because otherwise, I wake up to nasty messages in my inbox.

I’m not the showrunner, I’m not a writer on the show, I’m a fan who works very, very hard at her fics, and posts them online, for you guys, for free. The only thing I ask in return is that you remember that when you speak to me, when you speak to any creator whose work you have a problem with, that you are speaking to a human being who can snap, too.

I am already liking social media less and less the more I’m on it, I have already considered walking away for good, despite my love of the show and this pairing, because of how toxic certain people in the fandom can be. Because of how toxic cowards hiding behind their screen can be. You have no right to boss me around, understand? Do not try it again because I can block anons, and I will use that button.

#ask rin #rnm discourse #forlex #malex

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acockius · 5 years ago

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prompts 16, 21, 35, 58 and 65❤️ sorry if there’s so many, i just had an idea in my head !

Thank you, anon, for helping me feed the children! I hope this is along the lines of what you were looking for… (if/when you read this, please confirm with an ask!)

This is gonna be a Roger blurb, because I love to give the people what they want. I am BEGGING for feedback. I want to give you guys what you want, but I have trouble writing Roger so I need to know your feels.

she thicc. she angsty. and she eventually soft. so enjoy a near 2,000 word blurb!

Your normal sitter had fallen ill so you had no choice but to bring your precious cargo to the to grocer with you. You’d managed to fit as much as you could underneath the carriage in the storage compartment but there was still more to carry. You balanced two bags of groceries in your arms and simultaneously struggled to push the stroller down the street. It was taking longer than usual, and the baby definitely didn’t like any part of the stop-and-go you were putting him through by trying to multitask.

When you finally arrived back at your flat, you were exhausted. The baby had grown fussy, and your arms muscles were cramping from being stuck in the same position for so long. Your face lit up when you saw someone open the front door to your building and did your best scurry towards it to catch it while you could. The man pushed open the door and didn’t take notice of your struggling, having it close behind him.

“Hey, do you mind grabbing the door for me, please?” You asked politely.

“Sorry, I’m running late.” The person grumbled as they walked past you and away down the street.

You were stunned; You stood there completely dumfounded, trying to register this moment of selfishness from someone who lived in the same building as you.

“Thanks for nothing!” You called out, but the gentleman was already long gone.

You took a deep breath and composed yourself before arranging the stroller in a way that could allow you to open the door on your own. When you turned your back to open the door and set your bag of groceries down, you felt the weight of the door removed from your back.

“Let me get that for you.” a voice called from behind you.

When you turned around to express your gratitude, all of the color ran from your face. The last person in the world you were expecting to show up at your doorstep was there, coming to your rescue.

“Roger…” You croaked.

“In the flesh!” Roger smiled warmly, as if not to put you off.

You stared at him, stunned, for several moments. You never thought you’d see him again. Roger was your long time boyfriend and first love of your life. That was until you found out he was cheating on you while away on tour with his band. So much for dating a rockstar…

Though it had been nearly two years since the break up, your wound remained fresh. This current moment felt like salt and lemon juice being dumped onto it one after the other. You were still stunned. Why was he here?“You… Did you do something different with your hair?” Was all you managed to say.

Roger shot you his million-dollar smile, which made you weak at the knees and perched his sunglasses atop his head.

“I guess you can say that. It’s shorter!” Roger pointed out nonchalantly.

“And blonder.” You added.

“Well, yeah. I suppose it is. Just a minor change.” Roger stated. “May i help you carry those bags?”

He held his arms out and you hesitated. You wanted nothing more than to tell him to go sod off and put this moment behind you. But you’d been through enough trouble that day, and would take help from the devil if it meant you should just return to the confines of your flat.

“Thank you.” You did your best to smile as Roger took both bags from your arms. He pushed the door open further, which allowed you to wheel the stroller inside the building.

You pushed the carriage through the vestibule and over to the elevator. Roger rushed to keep up with you, using his leg to assure that you could wheel the stroller into the elevator. He joined in the elevator and watched as you pressed the button to your floor, triggering the doors to shut.

Once the elevator started moving, Roger looked down at the baby in the stroller and then back at you.

“Are you going to introduce me to this little tike?” Roger asked

Were you? Should you? Doing that would change everything. You weren’t sure if you wanted Roger to know this side or you, or any part of your life now that he was no longer part of it.

“Uh, yeah.” You awkwardly scrubbed your face and sighed. “Hudson… this is Mr. Taylor.”

The baby stared up at Roger with big blue eyes, cooing quietly.

“How’d’ya do there, Hudson?” Roger offered the baby his finger, which he graciously accepted, and tried to put in his mouth.

“Beanie baby, no. We don’t put stranger’s fingers in our mouth!” You leaned down to move Roger’s hand away from the baby’s mouth and he whimpered in response.

“Sorry… I’d just prefer if your hands were clean first.”

Roger gave a complacent nod, trying to move past the fact that you’d called him a stranger to the young baby. Perhaps that’s what you were to each other now, but it hurt to hear it coming from your lips.

The elevator door opened and Roger held it open for you as he balanced the grocery bags in his hands with ease. Life was always easy for Roger Taylor. It angered you to no end. Your flat was only two doors away from the elevator but you were having a difficult time locating your keys in your purse. That’s when Hudson starting crying loudly.

You sighed, stopping for a moment to try and gather yourself, as Roger crouched down to the ground.

“You’re alright, buddy. Your Mummy will bust you out of here once we get inside!” Roger spoke enthusiastically, his finger rubbing the back of the baby’s hand.

You tapped your the pockets of both your jacket and jeans before you found them sitting in your the back pocket. You unlocked the door and ushered Roger inside with your hand.

“You can set the groceries down in the kitchen. It’s to the right.”

Roger walked around you and into your apartment. It wasn’t until you watched him cross the threshold that you realized what was actually happening. You’re letting the man who broke your heart into your apartment. You didn’t even know what brought him to your apartment in the first place. You saw his smile and his new hairstyle and instantly became distracted!

You wheeled the carriage into the kitchen where you were met with Roger drying his hands after washing them.

“Can I hold the little guy?” Roger asked as he put down the dishtowel.

“Rog…” There was clear hesitation in your voice. You ran a hand through your hair, trying to think of an excuse as to why he couldn’t that didn’t sound as harsh as it was.

“I promise I won’t drop him.” Roger leaned over the stroller and before you could protest, he had plucked Hudson from this carriage.

Roger gently bounced your son in his arms, watching his reactions closely as not to upset him. Hudson was absolutely enraptured by him. Roger made playful noises with his mouth, which had Hudson grabbing at his face.

“Hudson, you’re quite the looker.” Roger said as he pried the baby’s small hands from his nose. He offered up his finger as a teething toy to distract him, and Hudson gladly accepted.

“You take after your mummy that way.”

Your whole body trembled like a leaf as you watched your son become dazzled by the man that had once dazzled you. You didn’t want Hudson to be subjected to the kind of pain that came along with being associated with Roger Taylor.

“How did we get here?” You asked, your hands gripping the kitchen counter for stability. Your voice was barely above a whisper, but the room was quiet enough for Roger to here.

“What do you mean?” Roger squinted pensively, leaning his cheek against Hudson’s head.

“I mean - you just showed up at my flat unannounced after a couple of years and, like a night in shining armor, help me get my groceries and my son upstairs.” You shook your head in disbelief.

“How did you get here? Or why? Why are you here, Roger? After all this time…”

“It’s been less than two years.” Roger corrected.

You rolled your eyes before pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Look…” Roger started. “Queen’s recording an album in the area and I knew I had to come and find you. I wanted to see you, and see how you were.”

“Well. Now you’ve seen me. So you can be on your way.” You walked over to the stroller and retrieved the two packages you’d stashed in the storage area before Roger placed his hand on your wrist.

“You know I never meant to hurt you.” Roger still held Hudson in his arms, who was too busy staring at Roger to notice how visibly upset you were.

“It doesn’t matter what your intentions were, Roger. You’ve got your life now and I’ve got mine.” You let your wrist fall from Roger’s grasp and set the bags down on the table.

“Well, for what it’s worth… I think this baby is a pretty good life to have.” Hudson had rested his head on Roger’s shoulder and struggled to stay awake as Roger swayed side to side, lulling him to sleep.

“It’s quite tough to argue with that sentiment.” You smirked, playfully swatting at Roger

You then reached to run your hand through Hudson’s hair and he yawned, reaching to clutch Roger’s shirt in his little hand. You smiled weakly at him, and then looked up at Roger. You hadn’t realized that he was looking at you, watching your every move.

The look on his face was so familiar to you. He gazed at you with intense admiration that made you feel like the only girl in the world. You yearned for that look since you’d ended things with him, even though he was unfaithful to you. No one else had ever made you feel special. Not until your son was born.

“Hey, Rog?” The nickname was habitual. It’d always had been. It rolled off the tongue just as easily as it used to.

“About the baby…”

“What about him?” Roger was quick to respond, impatiently waiting on your next word.

“He’s yours.”

Roger was quiet for several moments. You were beginning to think that you shouldn’t have said anything. You should’ve just gotten him out of your apartment and out of your life for good.

“That explains why he’s so good looking.” Roger teased.

You let out a sigh of relief and hugged your arms around yourself for stability. You never thought that Hudson would know his father or vice versa. This unpredictable moment suddenly meant everything to you.

A few tears fell from Roger’s eyes and he kissed Hudson’s temple. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d be holding in. It’d always been a fear of yours for Roger to find out about his son and be angry. It seemed as if you’d worried for no reason at all,

Roger’s free arm wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you close.

“I’m going to make this right. I promise.”

And then he kissed you. Slowly and deeply, just like he used to. You’d all but melted into his arms, overcome with emotion. You finally felt whole again.

#roger taylor fic #roger taylor fluff #roger taylor angst #roger taylor fan fiction #roger taylor imagines #roger taylor blurb #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor x y/n #request #my writing #writing prompts

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omega-deku · 5 years ago

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So I would love to progress on my art and try comics any tips? ÙwÚ

Hi! I’m so sorry about the late reply. D: I hope you don’t mind if I take this opportunity to address all the anon messages about how we can improve as artists.

I have a tough time answering this question because there is so much I need to learn. I’m super flattered that some of you feel that my art is good enough to ask me for tips, first of all!! So thank you, guys.

It’s a struggle because I only recently started taking up art again. So I’ve forgotten a lot of the things. So I’m probably not the best person to ask about this.

I used to draw all the time as a kid, but after high school, I stopped drawing. I stopped drawing for almost a decade, pretty much. I really regret it. I feel like I could have come such a long way if I did keep going. My parents really discouraged me from pursuing art, even just as a hobby, too. Even when I left home (I’m back now tho), my ex-spouse, greatly discouraged me from doing art too. I mean, “proper” art. They told me my art wasn’t “real art” because it’s not studio art, it’s “sellout” art, like anime/cartoons/fanart. I had even worse self-esteem as I do now, and I listened to them and gave up. I convinced myself I hated drawing.

Please don’t deny yourself things that make you feel engaged and connected. If drawing makes you feel good, if it makes you not realize how much time has passed and makes you feel like you’re accomplishing things, even little by little, please don’t stop. Even if you suffer from depression and feel like things like this are pointless, remember that just doing things in general will help you. Drawing is an awesome way to get into the flow state. To me personally, it’s almost like a meditative state and I find it helpful in dealing with chronic pain and mental health issues.

Anyways, I’ll try to compile some advice sort of things.

ART IN GENERAL

1. Draw what you enjoy! I think the most important thing is to draw what you like. It’s okay if it’s “dumb stuff”. Draw your favorite characters or pairings from your favorite tv shows if that tickles your fancy! You’re much more likely to be spending more time drawing if you’re drawing stuff you like. And as long as you’re drawing, you’re improving. (But still, challenge yourself and get out of your comfort zone!)

Especially for those of you who are planning to pursue art as a career, it’s essential that you don’t view practicing art as a chore.

2. Draw from life. If you really want to take your art to the next level, drawing from life is vital! I think many of us have come across artists who are just amazing, but there are things that look a little “off”. For example, the anatomy doesn’t look quite right, or the perspective is a little wonky. Things like that can be a tell that they’ve learned to draw from other people’s art rather than from life. Or just haven’t practiced the basics enough. (My art isn’t amazing or anything close to that lmao, but it definitely suffers from this. I need lots of life drawing practice.)

There is nothing wrong with learning from your favorite artists, but to really train your “artist’s eye”, you need to strip away all the stylistic choices and go back to the basics. Training that Eye is one of the most crucial things you could do as an artist.

Just take a piece of paper, a pencil and start drawing what you see. If you can, take figure drawing classes at your local community college, or draw the animals you see at the zoo. Sit on a bench and draw the scenery in front of you. Over time, you’ll start to recognize common patterns, simplify/think of things in terms of lines and shapes.

If you can’t afford a class or have the ability to go outside easily, drawing from photographs can be the next best thing. (See the Resources below for an online figure drawing tool.) I’m not experienced enough to definitively say why this isn’t the #1 idea, but from what I hear, there are things that you’ll miss out on, such as subtle shifts in shadows, colors, and other things that will happen from small movements in pose changes, a cloud moving, or whatever else. A different “feel”, if you will.

With the digital art boom, a lot of artists are learning how to do cool digital effects and fancy things, but forgoing basic anatomy, perspective, shading, etc. Which is all fine if you’re just having fun, but isn’t the best idea if you’re really serious about improving. Practice the fundamentals!

(If you have been dreaming about CalArts at one point like I did when I was in high school, one advice I came across from everyone who went there was to draw from life. All the time. It’s not an answer I expected from people who draw funny looking characters all day. You mean all these people who draw such simplified cartoon people and animals can actually draw like masters? Perfectly rendered bowls of fruit? I didn’t realize how much work goes into animating simple characters.)

3. Put in the time.

It’s really easy to get suckered into just watching “how to improve” videos all day and thinking about improving. Watching how other artists work is an important learning tool, but you’ll never actually make progress if you aren’t practicing.

Sometimes, the best thing to do is to not think about it. Just do it.

It’s like when I’m spending a whole lotta time thinking about getting physically fit than just, you know.. just doing it. “Tomorrow for sure.”

It may seem like it’s worthless, but doing those lame 5 push-ups a day instead of the 20-minute workout you wanted to put in, is better than nothing at all. You are making progress, no matter how small it may seem.

Make it a habit to practice every day. That way, you don’t even hesitate. It’s as automatic as brushing your teeth.

All the artists you see who have fantastic, awe-inspiring art may seem like Unreachable Gods sometimes, but those artists didn’t just pull that out of their ass one day. They put in hours and hours and hours of work. Let’s not disrespect other artists by ignoring that and chalking it up to “talent”. No one is born with an innate ability to draw. WE can get there too if we practice!

I want to get good enough to draw the things I have in my head one day!

Some resources that may be helpful:

Draw a Box - This is a site for free lessons for absolute beginners. Look under “Lessons” to learn. The creator of the site is the mod for r/ArtFundamentals. You can post your work there to get critiqued.

Check out Proko’s videos on gesture drawing, art fundamentals, etc. Daily routines of successful artists.

Use this site to practice figure drawing, gesture drawing - Set aside some time to practice drawing people and animals every day. Start trying to see things as lines, shapes, and go big. Don’t get too caught up in the details, and tiny drawings. Learning to draw fast (not draw FAST as in speed, but as in capture the gesture in a post, the “feel” of the movement) will force you to do this more, and with more experience, make your figures less stiff looking.

And it’s okay if you’re aren’t good at it. You’ll make loads and loads of shit drawings until you can get decent.

I’m most definitely in this stage right now, trying to train my Artist’s Eye. As in, I can’t just draw a figure from memory. I don’t really know what goes where without a reference, or how they move, etc. You can tell by how stiff my drawings look.

Lulusketches How to Improve video - She has similar advice, but her point about looking at “Art of” books something I have come across from multiple professional artists; Her advice on worrying about finding your own “style” is really good too. Do challenges like she said!

Her playlist of art tutorials & advice is great. They’re short and sweet. Her beginner digital art tutorial got me started on digital art (the one with Ginny Weasley).

Not free ($30 a month), but these online Schoolism classes look helpful. It’s run by Bobbie Chiu. I saw some great reviews and I want to try them someday. They’re taught by artists in the animation/film industry. But you gotta have a basic grasp on digital art/photoshop for many of the classes, I think? I’m not 100% sure. They’re pre-recorded video lessons.

You can pay more for feedback from the teachers, but you can also just use it as a self-learning guide.

This drawing faces from any angle video was pretty helpful for me. The artist has loads of other tutorials.

COMICS

I don’t feel qualified enough to give much advice on comics. I mean, I don’t even draw the lines for the boxes, haha.. However, these comic books are basically required reading for some courses:

Scott McCloud’s Understanding Comics & Making Comics.

I can’t remember which one it is that I read, I think it was Making Comics? But wow, if I remember correctly, it was FULL of really useful things about how to make effective comics. I lost the book while moving years ago, but it was FANTASTIC learning material. I loved every panel of it.

He talks about everything from perspective, placement of characters, speech bubbles, how big panels should be, etc.

If you can afford it, get a used one and start reading! Even if you don’t want to make comics just yet, it’s super interesting.

#art #comics #art reference #art resources #asks #text #okay i fixed some of the links now #added better stuff

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captainkippen · 4 years ago

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Hi Aaron, I read your writing tips tag & found it really helpful, but I was wondering if you had any other advice for me. I used to write original works years ago but I lost a lot of motivation & stopped. Recently I've thought about getting back into it, but this time trying to write fanfiction as well. I've never written fanfic before. How do you come up with ideas and, more importantly, share your writing & open yourself to critique from others (i've never shared my writing publicly before)?

Hi, Anon! First of all, thank you! I'd forgotten all about that tag. I'm glad it's been useful for you!

Loss of motivation is tough, and getting back into the swing of things can be difficult, but it's never impossible as long as the desire to write is there. Good on you for wanting to get back to it and I'm excited for you to delve into the world of fic writing!

Brainstorming ideas

Music

To answer your first question, there are a lot of ways I personally come up with ideas. First and foremost for me is music, I like to sit down with my headphones in and let my thoughts wander while I'm listening. A lot of inspiration can come from lyrics, or from the tones of songs, and sometimes even just letting yourself drift results in ideas popping into being. That's not for everybody, but it definitely works for me.

Imagery

Another is imagery. Try looking at Pinterest or on other social media for pictures that might give you a spark. I like looking at specific aesthetics I enjoy and building scenes in my head from there.

Prompts

On Tumblr, or even just googling, you can find a lot of writing prompts which might give you a start for ideas. Try looking at those, or even asking people you talk to for prompts, and use it as an exercise to see where you end up.

AUs & Borrowing Storylines

That might be a misleading subheading — I'd like to clarify I do not think you should commit plagiarism. What I do mean is, when it comes to fanfiction at least, a lot of stories are borrowed from books and films. Sometimes it's fun to write an AU based on a romcom or a fairytale, in a lot of fandoms you can find a 10 Things I Hate About You AU, and as long as you're using your imagination (not copying the OG source word for word) and clarifying that your story is loosely based on something else that's fine!

Many fics are set in AUs (alternate universes). You could try looking at types of AUs and seeing if any of them spark an idea for you. AUs are the best thing about fanfiction in my opinion. Ranging from Canon Divergence - set in the canon universe but taking a different course of events according to the writer - to Coffee Shop AUs, they give you a lot of scope and room to breathe. You can have fun with AUs, and the best part is that, even if someone else has already written a particular AU, fanfic readers are always hungry for more. I'd once again like to underline the importance of not plagiarising — stealing other's work is not cool. There's a line between taking inspiration and straight up copying.

Looking For What's Missing

I would have a think about the kind of fics you love to read, and ones that you haven't yet seen in the fandoms you want to write in. If there's a hole you think needs filling, especially if it's very niche and just for you, then go for it. Be the one to bring that story into being. It's a great feeling.

Research & Artefacts

I've found in the past that looking at specific objects or events can often inspire ideas. Say I had a tin of tea, or saw an old sign on the road pointing to Polperro, I might decide to look into the history of those objects and find myself several hours later up to my ears in research on the tea trade of the 1800s or Cornish smugglers. Researching things that catch your interest is a great way to develop new arenas, characters and narratives in which you want to tell your stories.

Have a look for news articles or interesting nonfiction books you have lying around and flick through them, they might contain that first spark of an idea and lead you down that research path for yourself.

Writer's Notebooks

Leading on from that, the next thing I would recommend for generating ideas is writing things down. Ideas will pop into your head more than you think and it's important to get them on paper (or in the notes app on your phone - mine is an absolute mess) because you never know when two ideas might link and turn into a full story.

Another way to use a writer's notebook is through observation. Go out and pay attention to your surroundings. Make notes on any people, places or events you come across which catch your interest. This way, if you're ever stuck, you have a bank of inspiration ready and waiting.

Sharing Your Writing

Offering up your work for others to read can be really nerve wracking. I'm doing my MA in Creative Writing and I still find it downright terrifying to share my work with my classmates, however critique and feedback are really useful tools for developing your writing skills.

I like to think of my fics as writing practice. When I publish them, the feedback I get is helpful in figuring out any chances I need to make to the story or to my style. The best thing about fic readers is they're generally very friendly and understanding. I find that focusing on that fact makes me feel a little more confident in posting. This confidence will help you develop your original works too, you'll be more open to sharing with others and getting feedback. It's especially interesting to share with other writers when developing ideas because sometimes you just need a different perspective to bounce your thoughts off.

Taking that first step and hitting publish is the most difficult part, but once you've done it once it gets less scary. My advice to you is just to write something that makes you happy, make sure it's edited to a readable standard (I am often guilty of giving up and pressing publish without giving it a second glance, sorry guys, you don't want to be me with this), and it's something you want to share. Having other people read your work and talk to you about it can be really fun, you've just got to dive in headfirst.

This answer for away from me a little. Anyway, thank you again for your kind words and I hope my advice is helpful! Enjoy your fic writing endeavours, wishing you the best.

#writing tips

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queenmylovely · 5 years ago

Text

The Law of Attraction i

Summary: John deacon x fem!reader. Your first week of classes with Professor Deacon.

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: little bit of awkwardness, cussing (probably)

A/N: This is the first part of a probably miniseries or two-parter to fill the request I got. I just am incapable of not writing some backstory I guess. Side note: this takes place in the present but John is in his late 30′s. For you, anon, don’t worry, spicy things are coming soon! I hope you all enjoy, and any feedback including likes, replies, reblogs and asks are greatly appreciated! Requests are open!

Request: idk if you write for prof!deaky but like… i’d be so down for that.

Part ii, Part iii*, Masterlist

(look at this picture, what the fuck)

💥💥💥

In your junior year of university, you had finally decided on your major after switching between math and physics. You had definitively chosen electrical engineering. While you had enjoyed math and physics, they were much too focused on theoretical equations than on real-world objects, which is where you found most of your interest.

The problem solving and designing aspects of electrical engineering were what had appealed to you the most. You could plug input into equations and get the correct answers in your sleep, so creating was what would challenge you in the way you wanted to be.

Since you had taken all of the math and physics prerequisites already, you were able to jump straight into the engineering classes and labs right away in the fall of your junior year. When you had registered in the spring prior, you had wanted to keep two days empty so that you could have days free for your part-time job at the admin office. This had somehow ended up in you having five classes between three different professors. Two of the professors you had only one class each with, which meant you had three classes with the same professor. Your days off from classes had landed on Mondays and Fridays, which you thought would be good bookends to your pretty heavy Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays. Plus, the admin job would be good for starting and/or finishing homework when it was slow.

_____

The first Monday of the semester was spent getting a quick brief on your duties as administrative assistant. It seemed like it would be pretty simple; answering phones, putting appointments into the computer’s calendar, scheduling tours, and directing people to the correct offices around campus. They also said that you were free to do homework in your down time.

That Monday was pretty busy though, which was okay since you didn’t have any homework aside from printing out the syllabus. (Which you might have used the office printer to do.)

You had some pretty frantic-looking students asking questions about how to change their classes or where to find their professor’s office. Since you were a junior and had changed your major twice, you were pretty fluent with all of the forms and were able to answer their questions easily. You went home around 5:00, which, with the hour lunch, made for an eight hour day. Since you were taking 16 engineering credits, you felt pretty good with working 16 hour weeks.

Tuesday you started with a System Modeling and Control class that was 75 minutes long, and started at 9:00. The professor seemed nice, which was good, but you were more worried about the professor you had later that day since he was the one you had three classes with. Two of which were labs of no more than 25 students. First, though, you had an Electromagnetic Theory lecture with him on Tuesday and Thursdays.

The class was at 10:30, which meant you had fifteen minutes to walk down the hall from your first class. You figured you would at least get a good seat.

Walking from room 215, you counted the numbers on either side of the hall until you reached 220. The door was cracked open with a rubber door stop and you looked through the crack to see that it was empty. There must not have been a class in there yet. You pushed the door open and walked in, seeing there were actually a couple people there on the edges. The room was lecture style, but pretty small with only four rows with 10 seats each going up from the floor. There was a lectern in the middle of three blackboards that had been wiped completely clean. You nodded at the other students as they looked up at you, but chose to sit in the middle of the front row. Since you were probably getting a later start to electrical engineering than most, you wanted to be front and center to absorb as much information as possible. And perhaps you were a bit of a teacher’s pet at times.

You pulled out the fresh, three subject, college ruled, spiral notebook you had gotten for this course and a mechanical pencil. Labeling the first page “Electromagnetic Theory,” you then flipped the page and wrote the date. You also took out the syllabus for the class and skimmed over it again while you waited for the professor and the rest of the class to get there.

Students slowly trickled in, most opting for the edges of the room and a couple joining you in the front row, but still near the sides. Once it hit 20 past, the professor walked in. He was on the taller side, a man in his late thirties from what you could tell, with brown hair that was shorter on the sides and longer and kind of curly on top. He was pretty handsome, in kind of a dorky way. He was wearing a plaid button down shirt tucked into jeans with a black belt and dad sneakers. You giggled at that last part and found your eyes drifting to his left hand to see if there was a ring there. There wasn’t. You shook your head slightly at yourself. He was your professor, and your professor with who you will be spending over five hours a week, and a crush will not make it any easier to learn, you had to remind yourself.

Just before class started, a rush of ten students came in at once, and one finally filled the spot next to yours. The two of you said hi and exchanged names (hers was Sarah), and were starting to talk about majors until you heard a loud scraping sound. The class turned their heads to the front of the room to see the professor pushing the lectern all the way against the wall. He finished and faced forward, noticing that the class had its eyes on him.

“Well, since I’ve got your attention, I might as well start,” he said with a smile and the class chuckled. “As it says in your syllabus, I am Professor Deacon, but as I know some of you know by your familiar faces, I am often referred to as ‘Deaky,’” he said, putting air quotes around the nickname, which earned another laugh.

“You can call me whichever you prefer, because I really don’t care. Alright, so obviously this is the class for Electromagnetic Theory, so if you’re in the wrong room, go ahead and leave now, we won’t judge,” he paused for a second and when no one moved, continued. “Good, we can get started.”

That first class was spent going through the syllabus mostly, and outlining the type of assignments and materials everyone would need for the course. He had a pretty dry sense of humor, and cracked jokes throughout the class, which helped to put everyone at ease. That being said, it seemed like it would be a very technical and involved class, and the assignments would require a lot of time and were process-heavy. Professor Deacon highly encouraged using his office hours for help or to answer any questions, and you made sure to highlight when they were on your syllabus.

When the class came to an end and everyone was packing up, you chatted to Sarah about it.

“Have you had Professor Deacon before?” you asked her.

“Oh, yeah, I had him for Introduction to Electric Circuits my freshman year. He’s a nice guy, and not too tough a grader. Everyone does really call him Deaky, just so you know,” she answered with a smile.

You nodded, “Good to know.”

She left for her next class and you said goodbye to each other before you walked down to the front of the class where Professor Deacon was.

He was writing something down in a little agenda and you stood waiting for him to finish when he looked up and saw you. “Hello,” he said cheerfully.

“Hi. I’m Y/N Y/L/N,” you said, extending your hand for a handshake. His hand met yours and shook it firmly, and you didn’t miss how warm it was against yours. “I just wanted to introduce myself because I’ll be in both of your labs tomorrow.”

“Oh, that’s you. I had noticed that there was a student on all three of my rosters. Did I have a really good rating on ratemyprofessor?” he joked.

You laughed lightly and responded, “I couldn’t say. I just declared as Electrical Engineering at the end of last semester, so I have some catching up to do.”

“Really? Most people would have a lot of prereqs to get through first. What was your major before?” he asked warmly.

“Well, first it was math my freshman year and then it was physics last year,” you explained a bit sheepishly.

Professor Deacon didn’t seem to think there was anything unusual about changing your major three times however, and just smiled a toothy smile and said, “Ah, that makes sense. Well, welcome to the department, and I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Thank you. See you tomorrow,” you smiled back before turning around and walking out the door. You were relieved that the professor you would be seeing so much of this semester was nice, although weren’t sure you would be able to bring yourself to call him Deaky.

_____

The syllabus for the labs had said to only bring a folder, pen or pencil, and to wear at least short sleeves, long pants, and closed toed shoes, all of which you had to be willing to get dirty. As you got ready in the morning, you pulled on a faded pair of jeans, a shirt you had used in the past when painting, and your old pair of tennis shoes. You grabbed a jacket to wear over your clothes as you walked through campus and headed out with just a shoulder bag instead of the backpack you normally took to class.

You drove over to campus and parked in the engineering building’s parking lot. You had bought the parking pass for that building since three of your classes were in it, but hadn’t realized that the engineering labs were in a different building on the other side of campus until the day before. You sighed as you turned your car off, knowing you had close to a twenty minute walk, but put on your headphones, turned on some good music, and started walking over.

The building was old and the cinder blocks were painted white, though you could tell from where it was peeling that it had had many coats over the years of varying colors. You had heard from someone in your Computer Science class (which was an hour after your first with Professor Deacon on Tuesdays and Thursdays) that the building used to be the main Engineering building until the university got an endowment for the new, fancy one. Looking at the building, you thought that it must have been pretty cramped since there were only three large rooms and four little ones, which had since been turned into professors’ offices and what could be called the lobby with a check-in desk and no one behind it. There were two offices for the professors whose names you didn’t recognize and they were both of the left side of the building, opposite of the labs. The last one was on the right side, in between the furthest lab and the “lobby” itself, and had a nameplate labeled “John Deacon.”

Each of the lab rooms were designated for a different type of lab. Lab A was filled with cars and engines which you assumed was for mechanical or automotive engineering, Lab B was filled with drafting materials and models which you assumed was for civil engineering, and Lab C was filled with old computers and motors, which was exactly where you were supposed to be.

There were a couple people already in the room, milling about and chatting to each other. You were glad to see Sarah and went up to her to say hi. Looking around at everyone, the two of you laughed at how you all looked more like house painters than engineering students.

“I’m not entirely sure how our clothes would get dirty, but I guess it’s better safe than sorry,” she commented to you.

“I don’t know, maybe if we accidentally blow something up or it catches on fire, the smoot won’t ruin our clothes?” you guessed and the two of you laughed.

“I for one, wasn’t planning on any explosions, but I guess I know to keep a close eye on you now, Y/N,” said a voice from behind you on your right. Sarah and you whipped around to see Professor Deacon standing right there with a smirk on his face. You felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment and Sarah had to hide her giggles behind her hand.

“I-I’m- that was just a joke,” you stammered out.

“Hmmm, I guess we’ll see,” Professor Deacon said, walking to where there was a chalkboard at the front of the lab. Before he turned completely away, though, he shot you a wink that eased your nerves about the joke you made, but for some reason sent a shock of adrenaline (or something else) through your body at the same time.

The rest of the lab went better. Professor Deacon started with introductions of everyone since it was a smaller class and people should definitely know each other by the end of the semester. He then went over the lab and safety procedures, congratulating everyone for their proper attire. He himself was wearing these old carpenter pants that looked straight out of a 90’s catalogue and an oversized t-shirt that seemed like it was a souvenir from Bali but had grease stains all over it. And he was wearing the same sneakers as the day before. You couldn’t help but think it was kinda cute that he wore the same sneakers all the time.

He also took everyone on a little tour of the lab building, starting with Lab A and B briefly and then a more indepth look at a room only accessible through the rear of the building. It was a storage/equipment room that housed a bunch of scrap metal, lumber, spare parts, abandoned student projects, and tools. Everything in there was for free use of students of all labs to work on their projects and the projects for the department. To a bunch of engineering students, it was a treasure trove.

Finally, he took everyone back to Lab C and pointed out all of the stations and larger equipment in the big room. After the tour, he had everyone do a little exercise with some of the tools to get acquainted with them. By the time everyone had completed the exercise, the two hours and forty-five had pretty much elapsed and Professor Deacon let everyone head out a little early.

Of course, since you were in his next lab that took place in 15 minutes, you stayed. And, it seemed that you were the only one in both of these labs, so you stood around awkwardly as everyone left. You were about to grab your phone from your pocket when you heard his voice.

“So you didn’t blow anything up, I’m relieved,” he teased from behind you.

You turned around to see him smirking yet again and laughed lightly before replying, “I mean, it’s only been the first part of the first day so I wouldn’t take your eyes off me just yet.”

There was a beat when both of you realized what that sounded like and you saw Professor Deacon’s ears get pink as you felt your neck heat up. Your eyes widened and you determinedly did not make eye contact.

Trying to relieve the tension, he cleared his throat and said, “Anyway, I’m sorry, but you’re about to have the same exact lab in 15 minutes. I would say you could leave but then you wouldn’t meet everyone else, and there are a couple different things that I talk about.”

You were glad that he changed the subject, and further tried to get things back to normal, “That’s okay. I’ll have a leg up on everyone when we try out the equipment.”

The two of you laughed, and you couldn’t help noticing what a nice laugh he had, “That’s the spirit. They’ll be baffled at your ability to use the air compressor slightly better than they can.”

“Hey, I was the best and fastest in the class just now. It might not have been a competition, but you know it’s true,” you said, still smiling, but pointing an accusatory finger at him.

“You’re very passionate. I like that in a… student,” he said, matching your intense gaze. Neither of you had time to think about his hesitation before saying “student” because a group of your classmates walked in at that moment.

Looking down at his watch, he noticed that it was only five minutes before class started, and he walked away, giving you a nod, to go grab the lab rules handouts.

You watched him walk away and sighed to yourself. It seemed the crush you were trying to fend off wasn’t going anywhere, and with all this time spent with him, was only continuing to grow.

💥💥💥

Taglist: @somekindof-cheese @gwilyoubemine @deacytits @supersonicfreddie @siriuslovesmarlene @bowiequeen @acdeaky @deakysgirl @sunflower-borhap-boys @deakyfordays @queensilveryrog @happy-at-home @ceruleanrainblues @briarrose26 @bensrhapsody @painkiller80

I just kinda created this taglist so if you would like to be taken off or added, just send me a message or ask!

Reminder that my requests are open! If you would like something in a sort of one shot format/length or blurb, etc. send it in! I’ll write for any of the Borhap or Queen boys (Freddie only platonically), Lucy, Patrick Murray, Gardner Langway and adult!Tim Murphy or possibly any of the other characters these people have played if I know enough about them!

#im real excited for the next part #ill have another request thing coming out first though #queen #john deacon #deaky #fic #fluff #queen x reader #john deacon x reader #john deacy #john deaky #deacy #deaky x reader #deacy x reader

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iamkatehardy · 5 years ago

Text

A Keeper (Tommy Conlon x Reader)

Requests : @bsotstory “Hii!!! I lOVE your Tommy Colon fics!!!!!! Could you use the kiss prompts 44 and 9 for a first kiss between Tommy and the reader, maybe they have to share a bed in a hotel before one of tommy's fights? ❤❤ Thank you!” AND Anon: “Hello can i request a Tommy Conlon and virgin reader with 11 14 and 15 prompts. Like they were dating maybe 5 or 6 months and she want to have sex with him cause she loved him and trusts him soo much.”

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol/pills consumption, smut (cute smut, ok?)

A/N: Sorry for ending all of a sudden, but it was getting too long 😂❤ (Smut prompts are in bold) Sorry for possible typos too, it’s 3 am 😂

Your feedback is really important ❤

New city, new life; definitely better, but not always easier.

The lack of job vacancies for your profession was certainly an issue; looking for a job had been a tough mission, even with a college degree and a vast resume. Bills were accumulating and they didn’t pay themselves, so you had no other choice but to take a job as a barmaid in a little local bar. The working schedule bordered exploitation, but it was quite well paid and the owner was a kind old man whose helpfulness was only limited by his arthrosis.

The toughest tasks were invariably assigned to the rookie, meaning you, but changing the beer barrels was nothing compared to putting up with drunken folks.

“(Y/N)?”

“Yes, Mr. Barnes?” – Running back and forth, you huffed exhaustedly while pouring drinks. Despite all the weariness, you kept distributing smiles and thanks to all the costumers.

“Come here a second, will you, please?”

“Sure, sure, sure!” – After serving all the tables around, you spun around one last time to check if everything was in order before walking to your boss. - “Is everything ok? Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Do you see that guy over there?” – Mr. Barnes discretely jerked his head in direction of a man sitting on the farthest table.

“I thought Benjamin had taken care of that row of tables, that’s why I didn’t go there. I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.” – Just as you were about to turn and leave, your boss softly grabbed your arm to get your attention.

“That’s not why I called you, (Y/N). That’s Paddy’s youngest son.”

“Oh.” – You smiled and nodded in acknowledgement.

Paddy Conlon was a regular costumer, although he never touched alcohol. He seemed a decent man, but also very lonely; it was nice that he actually had someone to give him a helping hand now, or so you thought.

“And the most troublesome too. Some nights ago he beat the hell out of some guys after the bar closed. Ben was just leaving, so he tried to stop him, he ended up taking a punch too, that’s why he’s not going there.”

In that moment you didn’t know exactly what to say to that.

“If it wasn’t for his father, I wouldn’t allow him to set foot in here again. I just wanted to warn you that he can snap, just like that.”

“Ok…” – Some nervousness appeared on your face and you swallowed hard. - “I’ve got this.” – You thought to yourself

His size was intimidating enough, let alone his cold stare, but you could find easily some charming features too.

“Good evening, what can I get for you?” – You smiled from ear to ear, ready to take his order.

He drummed his fingers on the table for a second, before he turned to face you.

“Are you new around here or something?”

“Do you think it’s that obvious?” – You wrinkled your nose and giggled. – “What gave me away?”

“ You’re still witty and friendly, that’s not common in people who have been here for a while. That’s what’s giving you away.” – Pausing for a moment, he casually shrugged, shaking his head as his gaze swept over you, intense yet somehow tender. - “ And I’ll have a Jack Daniels, neat.”

Ok, he wasn’t as bad as Mr. Barnes made it seem; if your boss hadn’t told you so, you wouldn’t say he was the aggressive type at all. Although he didn’t seem to be the most extrovert person on Earth, his eyes showed way more pain than wrath.

“Why don’t you try an Irish? I mean, I’m sorry for meddling…” – You rested your hands on the table and leaned slightly toward him, talking quieter.- “ Don’t let Mr. Barnes know I’m telling you this, he’s a hardcore American whiskey fan… But Irish tastes way better, to be honest. Especially if you’re a fan of neat whiskey; it has a smoother, velvety texture.”

“I think I’ll take your word for that. Amaze me.” – Nodding in agreement, he gave you a cordial smile.

And so you did, for the next couple of weeks you managed to amaze him.

Tommy left his usual spot on the farthest table by the window and started sitting by the counter, where he could occasionally chat with you on the less crowded nights.

“You beat people up for a living?” – You slowly lowered your head and raised your eyebrows in surprise.

“Well, it sounds bad when you say it like that. But we all know what we’re getting into in advance.” – He snickered at the surprised look on your face. – “Think of is as a cathartic release, it’s a great stress reliever.”

“Jesus, have you tried popping bubble wrap? That’s the definition of soothing stress reliever, at least for me.”

You won a rare broad smile from him; it was always a delightful treat after a long day of work.

“At least that way you don’t get hurt and I’m sure glad for it.” – He looked down, fingers playing with his glass.

“You know, despite being misunderstood, you’re an amazing being, Tommy. The person who catches your heart will doubtlessly be very fortunate.” – You couldn’t help a gentle smile as you smoothly laid your hand on his arm, fondling it, before going to serve the costumers that had arrived.

When it was time for him to leave, he searched for his wallet in his pockets, emptying them during the complicated process and laying his things on the counter.

“Here it is. Keep the change, sweet thing.” – He smile made your stomach flip-flop. He absentmindedly picked his things of the counter, giving you a lingering look before he left.

When you went to clean the counter, you noticed he forgot something and came outside, hoping he wouldn’t be far and you could give it back.

“Fuck. I’ll give it to him tomorrow.” –Curiosity beat you and you found yourself looking more closely at the vial, furrowing your forehead.

Painkillers. An ordinary thing when you do full-contact sports, but not so ordinary when you noticed he had taken half of the bottle within a week, according to the prescription date. Especially not if he had been drinking while taking them.

The next day, Tommy came at the usual time. You put the empty pill bottle right in front of him, leaning the closest you could.

“Before you ask, they’re in the fucking dumpster, Tommy.” – You spoke quietly, your voice seeming to fade before you even finished the sentence. – “You can get it together, without that stuff. I know you can, you just have to want to.”

He didn’t say a word, just watched you pour him his usual drink and set it before him. You words and the slight hint of disappointment in your eyes weighted on his shoulders, more than he thought they could. Before he even finished the drink, he placed the money on the counter and left the bar, sitting on a staircase nearby. His mind churned out a stream of thoughts for a while; resting his face on his palm, seemingly unaware of the flow of time until much later.

At that time you almost never had costumers, it was nearly closing time. His steps toward the bar were quick and quiet.

“I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to ask to leave, Sir.” – You asked the last costumer, who was clearly reluctant to leave.

“Or what?” – The man with a cadaverous look got up, walking up to you.

All of a sudden you stepped back, feeling a threatening tone in his voice when he addressed you.

“This is fate, little doll. I won’t hurt you, unless you try to run away from me, of course.” – He pulled out a knife and leaned against the counter. – “The choice is yours.”

The wind chime on the door tinkled aloud when Tommy opened the door and came in. Clearly seeing the panic on your face, he came closer.

“We’re closed. I strongly suggest you leave, now.” – Tommy stated assertively.

The man turned around and faced Tommy with a knife in hand.

“Look. You really, really don’t want to do any stupid move. I’m a former…”

Before Tommy could finish, the man advanced upon him, attacking him savagely, managing to make a small cut on his face.

Stupid move, indeed. Tommy managed to kick the knife of his hand the second after, before launching at him, kicking him in the ribs and guts, hitting him even after he was down.

“This is a friendly reminder to not mess with women ever again. Fucking coward. ” – He kneeled down and rear naked choked the man until he was out, before dumping him on the sidewalk.

You were shaking quite noticeably, dead pale.

“It’s alright now, (Y/N).” – His strong arms locked around you, holding you against his chest. Leaning down, he buried his face on your hair, kissing your temple. It felt more right than anything in his life had ever felt.

“You’re hurt.” – You looked up at him, gently cleaning the blood on his face with your fingers.

“Never mind. It’s not important. Are you hurt?” – He put your hair behind your ear, before cupping your face gently in his hands. He moved closer, staring into your eyes and slowly brushing his thumb on your cheek.

“Yes.” – Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes for a second. You put your hand over his, bringing it to your mouth and giving it a kiss, as a silent thankful gesture.

“Come on, I’ll take you home.” – As he bent forwards, his face was only inches away from yours.

When you opened your eyes, he rested his forehead on yours; you could almost feel his lips on yours and you immediately felt a lump on your throat. With a fluttering heart, you just nodded almost imperceptibly. Your lips slowly parted in invitation, reacting to his proximity, his warmth, his care.

Intensely staring at your eyes, he fought himself to resist his urge to kiss you; at least until he had proven you that his intentions about you were absolutely serious and pure. The last thing he wanted was you to think that he would be the kind of man to take advantage of your fragility, by any means.

“Let’s go, babe.” – Squeezing your shoulders gently, he kissed the top of your head.

Over the next few weeks, he spent all of his free time on the bar, until there wasn’t any costumer left and walked you home after the closing. Altruist motive: he wanted you to be safe. Selfish motive: he wanted to be the one to make you safe, to have the chance to be around you as much time as possible.

“Hey, (Y/N)?” – He chewed his toothpick thoughtfully. – “Do you like to dance?”

“Doesn’t everybody?” – Across the counter, you gave him a dazzling smile.

Tommy didn’t. But if you did, he was willing to give it a try.

“Why don’t we go dance tonight?”

You looked him up and down, furrowing your eyebrows. He certainly didn’t strike you as a dancer, but you were curious to see the outcome, plus, it would be good to spend some time with him outside your working place.

“It’s a date, then.” – You giggled nervously again.

At those words, he sucked in a breath and felt a tingle inside.

Later that night, after hours and hours of overthinking and planning his speeches, he picked you up at home.

“God, you look perfect.” – He smiled to himself when he saw you and the heat of a blush rushed to your face.

“Thanks, you’re not so bad yourself.” – Smirking, you adjusted his collar. Ever so lightly, your fingers softly grazed his neck, sending shivers through his body and causing his muscles to tense up.

Playfully, you linked your arm on his, but instead of escaping from it, he drew you closer until you were nestling against him.

The second you arrived on the dance club, his face told everything; after some attempts of dancing you could noticeably see he hated that place, it made him uncomfortable. Without further explanations, you grabbed his hand and walked out the door.

“What’s wrong? I thought you’d enjoy this place.” – He looked at the building behind him and then stared at your connected hands.

“Yes, I do, but you clearly don’t. I don’t want it to be the worst night of your life.” – You nudged him, laughing innocently. – “I’d rather if it could be good for both of us, you know.” – You ran the fingers through his hair and then his face. – “ I appreciate the effort though, it was really cute.”

“It was a disaster, wasn’t it?” – He scratched the back of his head with both hands. – “Yeah… Sounds just like me.”

“Tommy?”

“That’s the only thing I, Tommy Riordan Conlon, can do.”

“Tommy?”

“Typical.”

This triggered an involuntary eye roll; before you knew it, you were placing your hands around his face and leaning over to kiss him with a passion he happily returned. It was as if he forgot the whole world; everything disappeared for a moment. In that moment it was only you and him. Time seemed to stand still as long as your lips touched. He placed a hand on the small of your back, slowly bringing you closer. Your breaths, lips and tongues tangled together, perfectly. Both of you were nearly out of breath, but none of you broke the kiss you had been longing for so long.

“It was about damn time.” – You murmured between kisses.

“My bad.” - You felt him smiling against your lips, just before he kissed you again, claiming you. The warmth of his body surrounded you, making you feel safe and sound. - “For a million reasons, the main one being the fact I am utterly, irrevocably, maybe madly in love with you… I really, really want you to be my girl.” – His eyes glistened and beamed with love as he met your gaze.

“I would really, really love to, baby.” – You trailed your finger over his lips, before you pulled him into another kiss.

The following months felt just like heaven; you quit the job as bartender and found a job on your professional area, Tommy never touched painkillers again and felt much more relaxed, plus your relationship was booming and neither of you had ever been so sure it was what you wanted.

“Babe?” – Snuggling comfortably on the couch, he pulled you closer and rubbed his nose on your hair.

“Yes?” – Smiling, you looked up at him, simultaneously taking his hand and intertwining your fingers with his.

“There’s this tournament coming up…”

You just sighed and took a moment to answer. Multiple times you had seen him fighting and you knew he was good at it, but you couldn’t help feeling tightness on your heart and your stomach every time it happened, wondering what could go wrong.

“As long as you make it in one piece and I can come with you.” – Holding his hand tighter, you gave him a worried smile.

“Now I’ve got a princess to take care of. I’ll be a lion on that cage, to come back safe for you, I promise.”

“You better, Tommy. I swear, if anything happened to you, I don’t know what I’d do. I love you.” - You hid into his chest, feeling safe, yet scared for him.

“I love you too, little one.” – He whispered, petting your hair. His eyes never shifted off you, watching your every feature, instead of whatever you were supposed to be watching.

The date of the tournament came quickly and you both flew across the country, settling on a cozy hotel nearby the tournament’s location.

Although you and Tommy had been dating for quite a while, you had never slept together; this would be the first time. You never brought the subject up and he would never be the one to pressure you to do anything. When you found yourselves alone on the first night, you didn’t quite know what to do and you couldn’t help nervousness at the thought of what could happen.

Tommy smiled when you laid by his side, but he could tense from a mile away.

“What’s the matter?” – He asked with a hint of worry in his voice, looking into your eyes. – “Is it because of the fight? I’ll be ok.”

“No…I…”

He looked puzzled at you and sat upright on the bed.

“Fights have nothing to do with this.”

“Is it something that I did, love? Or said.” – He let out a low sigh.

“No. No. It’s me. I’ve just…” – You looked down, blushing deeply, while chewing your lower lip. - “I’ve never been with a man before… And by being with a man, I mean…”

“Babe…”

“I know it’s stupid and I don’t want you to think I’m some kind of…”

“Babe.” – Smiling reassuringly, he cupped your face on his hands. – “It’s not stupid; it’s your body, your life, your decision. And it’s not because we’re here alone that it has to happen, ok?” – He placed a lingering peck on your lips. - “I don’t want you to be this terrified; I love you and I won’t ever force things, not on your first time or the hundredth or the billionth. Things will happen if you want them to happen, when you want them to happen.

After a little while, he felt you relaxing again.

“I’m sorry, Tommy.” – Laying your head on his chest, you closed your eyes, just listening to his heartbeat. – “And thank you, I didn’t know you were so sensitive.”

“There is absolutely nothing to apologize for, princess. Get some rest and don’t worry about a thing, ok? I don’t want this to be a torment for you, or you to feel some kind of obligation. I just want you enjoy our time together, day by day. It will happen when it happens.” – Whispering, he rubbed the tip on his nose on yours.

“Have I told you I love you?”

“No, not yet.” – He sneakily looked up.

“I’m pretty sure I did... In fact, I shall never tire of repeating: I love you.” - Your mouth found his and you bit his lower lip gently.

That night you made a decision, you’d have your first time with Tommy. The following day, before he got to the hotel from the training, you prepared everything.

When Tommy got inside the room, it was dimly lit, with the moonlight shining through the window; it had pleasant scent of candles, mixed with your own scent that filled his head like a strong drink. He put his things aside and sat on the edge of the bed.

You emerged from the bathroom, wearing black lace lingerie along with a silky robe that clung to your curves.

Tommy was slack-jacked, fascinated, perhaps stunned, for a minute.

As you came closer, he inhaled deeply and your scent flooded him. You laid him down and straddled him, placing several tentative kisses up his neck, each one longer and wetter than the last.

“(Y/N)…”

“Yes?” – You brushed your lips on his as you spoke, before you bit his lower lip and your hands roamed inside his shirt, wreaking havoc on his senses.

“Is this what you want?” – Breathing quicker, he slid his hand down your side, stopping at your thigh and grabbing it firmly, trying to keep it together.

“Yes.” – You pressed closer, whispering breathily in his ear.

“Are you sure? Once I start I might not be able to stop.” – It was hard, if not impossible, for him to control his body in that moment. He loved you and consequently desired you just as much, although he was willing to wait as long as needed.

“I have never felt so certain about anything in my life.” – Your lips reached his ear and you bit his earlobe gently.

He tightened the grip on your thigh and kissed you fervently, conveying his every feeling through his kiss and his warm touch.

Careful not to put too much weight on you, he rolled until he was on top and began shrugging out of his clothing, with your help. Once he was done with his clothes, he started undressing you, slowly, almost with reverence; he left a trail of kisses down your throat and stomach, until he met your sweet spot. His hand cupped your breast gently and you ached for more of his touch. He placed his lips on your sex and began giving it small wet kisses, before sucking your clit gently and teasing it with his tongue.

You gasped and grabbed his hair, moaning it pleasure as he flickered his tongue on your clit. The heat inside you begged for relief.

“Oh, Tommy…” – You ran your fingers through his hair, pushing your hips against him. – “Yes!”

He had heard you saying the word “yes” at least a hundred times in the last minutes, yet he wouldn’t get tired of hearing it. He could literally taste your arousal and it turned him on.

You quivered as he slid a finger inside you, keeping his mouth where it was. It must’ve been the last moment your brain actually functioned, before pleasure took over your body. As his finger slowly made small circles inside you and his tongue made the same motion on your clit, your breathing slowly became panting. Wetter and wetter, you started to ache for him, in ways you didn’t think you could.

His cock was throbbing and he needed relief, but not only he wanted to please you first, he also wanted you to be relaxed enough so he wouldn’t hurt you. Pursing his lips around your clit, he hummed slowly, sucking it into his mouth before teasing it with his tongue once again.

“Fuck.” – A heat started build up inside you, consuming you. Grabbing the sheet tightly, you let out a loud moan, wrapping your legs around him as you came on his mouth. – “Time to return the favor, I want you to feel as I feel…” – You pulled him up on you.

“No. I’m supposed to be making you feel good.” – He slid his tongue across your lower lip, his eyes blazing with desire.

“I want to feel you, Tommy. I need to feel you.” – You whispered against his lips and wrapped your arms around his neck.

He gently slid the tip of his cock inside you and you groaned lowly.

“Am I hurting you?” - He laid his forehead on yours.

“Well, truth be told, it’s not that bad. I don’t care about pain right now; I just want to make love to you.” – You pecked his lips, moaning lowly when he slid it deeper, stretching you more.

“If you want me to stop, I will.” – He nuzzled his nose between your neck and jaw.

“I don’t…” – Your hands slid down his back, urging him to thrust deeper inside your moist core.

“I love you, baby.” – He kissed you passionately, his tongue dancing with yours, between moans.

“Me too.” – Suddenly your mouth fell agape as you gasped loudly and your nails dug on his back.

His thrusts were controlled and slow, yet incredibly tentative, making you plead for more as you grabbed a fistful of his hair. Slowly, his pace grew faster and his cock swelled inside you, making you tighten reflexively around it. He greedily placed his lips on your necks, trying to stop himself from moaning loudly.

Throwing back your head, you wrapped your legs around him.

“Harder, baby.” – Your eyes fell shut and your body jerked against him.

“Why don’t you set the pace you like? I don’t want to be too rough.” – Biting you lower lip, he grabbed your buttock.

You rolled until you were on top, taking him deep inside you and sliding your hips, keeping your movements for long minutes, until your juices began to pour across his manhood. Hearing you moaning his name, sped up the process of making him reach the climax as well.

You finally collapsed by his side and held his hand, giggling, happy and exhausted.

“Did you like it?” – Panting heavily, he turned to you and tucked your hair behind your ear.

“It was perfect.” – You snuggled to his chest. – “I don’t think there’s someone as careful and thoughtful as you.”

Feeling your hot breath against his chest, he felt a chill down his spine. Wrapping his muscular arm around you, he pulled you even tighter against his body.

“You know what? If you win the fight tomorrow…” – You held his hand, playing with it. – “I might empty half of my closet, to make room for your things. I want you to come to live with me.”

“And if I lose?”

“Well, if you lose you’re emptying the closet and you only get a third of it. But I obviously still want you to come. If not permanently, at least much more often. You’re a keeper.” – You rubbed your nose gently on his neck, taking in his scent.

“Wait, are you serious?” – His eyes shone with excitement.

“I don’t make jokes out of such serious matters, love.”

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