#maybe I’ll work on this later today .. put the laptop on the kitchen table n whip that tablet out while we prepare thanksgiving dinar🔥🔥

[cenomatic]

uhm.. another maybe wip lol

[daddyjackfrost]

Just a ✨suggestion✨ you know how Kuroo is like the master of provocation and he motivates people by getting under his skin? (The way he did with Tsukki)

I feel like he’d do that with his s/o too! However, not everyone responds well to that (I know I wouldn’t💀) so like I can see him going about his normal way and his s/o bottling it up until one day they couldn’t take it, and when he finds out Kuroo is DEVESTATED like wow he pushed his own s/o to their limits :(

jansjs yes. just yes.

Kuroo would definitely 100% to this, but not with the intentions to hurt you. it’s just his nature yk? he’s always been able to pick people apart until he can press their buttons just the way he wants.

i think it would start slowly. you wouldn’t actually realize Kuroo was provoking you until you stared thinking about his words late at night. Until you started watching yourself around him a bit more, afraid he’d say something that had you silently fuming in anger or self hatred.

—————

it was thursday night, and you were so angry you had put off all your work till the last minute. You had a giant writing assignment due tomorrow morning, and you hadn’t even begun.

Kuroo was out with Bokuto and as much as you wanted your boyfriend to cuddle you and pester you with love, a small part of you was glad he was away.

Last night, you had asked Kuroo for some help with chemistry, and usually, he would be ecstatic to be able to help you, but not last night.

“Kuroo, can you help me with this?”

Kuroo pushed himself off the sofa, walking up behind you to lean over your shoulder. His hazel eyes skimmed the questions you we’re having difficulty with and he let out a small teasing laugh.

“Oh come on, y/n. You study so hard and want to do all these big things and yet you can’t solve these problems?”

You wiped your sweaty hands on your leggings. You were already struggling and having Kuroo demeaning you was not helping.

You sighed and threw him a small smile. “You’re right. I’ll do it on my own.”

Kuroo just nodded and patted your head. “See? You can do anything you put your mind too.”

You just let out a small laugh, not believing him for a second.

You hear the door open and you grip your glass of water tighter. You wanted to talk to Kuroo. You needed to tell him you didn’t appreciate his provoking ways, and that if he wanted to motivate you, he should find better ways. It wasn’t healthy for you to actually be anxious when he was around, but recently, Kuroo had been a bit more demeaning and a bit more scheming.

“Y/n~” came Kuroo’s voice. “I’m home.”

“In here!”

After a couple seconds, Kuroo walked into your living room. His eyes landed on figure, sitting on the sofa with your laptops on your thighs.

“What’re you doing, babe?”

You groaned and tilted your head back to rest of the sofa. “I’ve been trying to write for the past two hours.”

Kuroo frowned and moved closer to you. “Why did you put this off till last minute, y/n?”

You closed your eyes and muttered a few profanities under your breath. “I don’t know, tetso.”

You prayed Kuroo would just smile at you, maybe tell you that it would be okay. That you would finish it and that he believed in you.

But no, that’s not Kuroo.

Because Kuroo’s never been one to gently motivate, or to praise. Unless it was in bed, but even then, it was rare.

Kuroo tsked, and your eyes shot open. You knew a jab from Kuroo was coming, and you hated it.

“You always do this, y/n. You always procrastinate and then complain. Don’t you want to be better? Do you really want y/f/n to exceed you?”

Tears sprung to your eyes. You knew he was right, he was always right, but you didn’t want to hear that. You didn’t want to hear about how terrible you are with time management, and how you always procrastinate.

You wanted to be angry at Kuroo, hell, you were angry at Kuroo, but the logical part of you always made it difficult. You had been friends with Kuroo since you were younger. You knew of his nature, of her personality, but it’s like the small wall Kuroo had made to not hurt you had broken. You knew it wasn’t intentional, but that didn’t hurt any less.

You abruptly stood up, slamming your laptop closed.

Kuroo’s eyes widened and he took a small step back.

“Kitten?”

You shook your head. “I’m gonna go finish this upstairs. There’s some leftovers in the fridge if you’re hungry.” And with that, you walked away.

Hours later, when Kuroo made his way to your shared bedroom, he hoped you were done and awake. He had barely seen you today and he wanted to sleep with you in his arms.

Kuroo was smug. He was glad he was able to motivate you and get you working on your assignment.

Pushing the door open, Kuroo’s eyes landed on your slouched figure against the bed. Your laptop was shut and your eyes were tightly closed.

Kuroo felt his eyes soften. He loved seeing you asleep, it was the only time you were truly ever at peace. Except, when Kuroo walked closer to you, ready to lay you down properly, he noticed the tightness of your eyes, and the small frown on your lips.

Kuroo just brushed it away.

It’s just stress, he thought.

When you woke up, you were greeted with Kuroo’s sleeping figure. His black hair was swept across the pillow and his eyes were shut. You could feel his arm wrapped around you and you smiled.

You let yourself enjoy a few more moments, but then you slipped out of bed and started your morning routine. You were going to talk to Kuroo today. You didn’t know how much longer you could withstand his harsh words.

Kuroo found you in the kitchen. Your back to him as you flipped some pancakes.

You slightly jumped when you felt strong arms wrap around your waist.

“Morning, love.” Kuroo’s husky morning voice greeted you.

You squeezed his hand. “Morning.”

“You finish your paper last night?”

You nodded, flipping the pancake. “Yeah.”

Kuroo kissed the back of your head. “See? I knew you could do it.”

You mumbled a small yeah, and pushed Kuroo away from you. “Set the table, Tetso.”

Kuroo nodded and picked up two plates from the cupboard. He grabbed two knifes and forks and put them on the table. You brought the plate of pancakes and sat down.

You both began to quietly eat. Kuroo didn’t think much of the silence. He knew you weren’t really a morning person and didn’t appreciate a lot of talking so early in the morning.

You, however, were a nervous mess. Throughout your shower and up until Kuroo had hugged you, you were thinking of ways to bring up the issue.

You put down your fork and knife, clearing your throat.

Kuroo looked up at you, his mouth full of pancake.

A small smile made its way to your face. He looked so cute like this, with his cheeks all puffed out.

“I-uh,” your palms began to sweat and you wiped them on your sweatpants.

“Y/n?”

You slightly shook your head, trying to shake off the nervousness. This was Kuroo, you thought. Your boyfriend of four years. You shouldn’t be nervous.

“I wanted to—uh— talk to you about something.”

Kuroo nodded, and put down his fork and knife. All of his attention was on you.

When you didn’t speak right away, Kuroo’s lips lifted into a teasing smirk. “Cat got your tongue?”

Turns out this was the one time you were glad he had provoked you.

You slammed your hands on the table, causing Kuroo to instantly drop his smirk.

“That!” You yelled, pointing at him. “That needs to stop!”

Kuroo’s eyes widened in confusion. “...what?”

All the dismissal and all the logic had left your brain. You were angry at Kuroo, and the fact that he chose to poke fun at you while you wanted to talk to him made you all the more angerier.

“You always do this Tetsoru! I’m sick of you constantly trying to provoke me! It hurts! I know you mean well, but your words hurt me, and i’m sick of it!”

Kuroo’s eyes widen in surprise. When he fully processes your words, his lips tug into a frown and a whirlpool of emotions start rising in him.

Kuroo noticed your flushed cheeks, the few tears that had gathered in your eyes, and his heart broke.

He did that.

He hurt you.

He’s been hurting you.

“I know you do this to everyone, but I’m not everyone! You’re not on the court anymore! You don’t need to be sly or calculating with me.”

Every word of yours pierced his heart.

Kuroo knew he had a tendency to just try and get under everyone’s skin. It became a habit. However, Kuroo didn’t know he was hurting you.

“I love you Kuroo, but please, please take my feelings into consideration. Times when I need your reassurance or praise, you just end up hurting me.”

A couple angry tears had escaped your eyes, falling down your cheek. You felt so relieved to get all of this off your chest.

When your eyes met Kuroo’s, your eyes widened. There were tears in his eyes. His eyes were wide, and his hands were shaking.

You quickly slid off your chair and walked to Kuroo’s side, sitting on the edge of the table.

Kuroo’s heart hurt. He couldn’t believe he had hurt you like this. You were the one person he never wanted to hurt. You were the one person who Kuroo loved more than anything, and the realization that he had hurt you, killed him.

Kuroo lifted his head and his teary eyes met yours.

“I am so sorry, y/n.”

Your lips slightly parted in surprise. Kuroo had never been this open and vulnerable with you.

“I—” Kuroo let out a small breath.

“I never wanted to hurt you. I am so sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t think about your feelings. Please, y/n, please forgive me.”

Kuroo’s lips trembled.

You felt your heart squeeze in your chest. You were glad that Kuroo realized his words had hurt you, but you didn’t want to see him hurt.

“I promise I’ll be better. I promise I’ll work on it.”

You nodded softly at him. “I know, Tetso.”

You pried Kuroo’s arms apart and slid onto his lap. Your legs were on either side of him. Kuroo didn’t dare touch you. His arms were limp beside him.

You brought your hands to his cheeks, slowly brushing his cheekbones.

“Please don’t leave me,” Kuroo mumbled.

You tilted your head closer to his face, softly kissing his lips.

“I’m not leaving you, not over this.”

————————-

PLS WHAT IS THIS

anyways, i hope you like it! I wrote this during accounting so 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️

daddyjackfrost © 2021 | all content belongs to me, do not modify

[specialagentsergio]

baby kiss it better

summary: When D.C. implements a lockdown order, you and Spencer decide to quarantine together. There’s just one problem—he’s working from home, and his coworkers don’t know about you.

pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader

category: fluff

content warnings: a few swear words, but otherwise it’s just fluff

a/n: ahh, the secret partner trope. how i love it. this is set in 2020, but with the season 5 cast! i was feeling particularly self-indulgent, so i made reader a night shift worker. this is for you, fellow night owls. stay safe out there everyone, and wear a mask!

a/n 2: i don’t actually know what a doctor or physical therapist would recommend for spencer’s knee injury. this is just going on my basic understanding of anatomy (i took a class in it this fall!) and what i've seen on grey’s anatomy lol.

word count: 2.2k

masterlist

Spencer tries not to grimace as he shifts in his chair. Working from home during the lockdown had initially seemed like it came at a great time, starting just a month after his knee injury. Sure, he wasn’t thrilled about having to do almost everything digitally, but at least he wouldn’t have to worry about being mobile.

Unfortunately, that had turned out to be a downside. Tethered to his seat by headphones, he hasn’t been able to get up and stretch his leg properly, and as a result, is experiencing more pain.

It’s only 8:30, but he can already feel it flaring up. It’s been happening earlier every day, likely due to the existing irritation from the day before. Today is Thursday, and he’s miserable—he dreads to think of what tomorrow will be like.

He’s wondering if there’s some way he could get out of work tomorrow when he hears the sound of the front door being unlocked. He looks up to see you pushing the door open with your shoulder, carrying far too many grocery bags than is reasonable.

“Be careful!” he exclaims, watching as you teeter to the side a little. You just wave him off and close the door with your heel.

Working from home may not have been the positive he was expecting it to be, but you’ve more than made up for it. The two of you had decided to quarantine together, and he’s really loved having you around. Granted, you’ve only been here since Sunday, but he’s starting to think that this is going to end with him asking you to move in with him for good.

He hears a thunk as you dump all the groceries on the kitchen table. Then you’re back in the living room, taking off your mask as you walk by so you can blow him a kiss. He presses his knuckles to his mouth to hide his smile.

Usually you give him a proper cheek or forehead kiss when you get home, but the team doesn’t know about you yet. It’s not that he’s necessarily keeping you a secret, he just... likes having you to himself, and he doesn’t really want it to change just yet.

He’s also not looking forward to the pitch Garcia’s voice is going to hit when she finds out he’s been dating someone for over a year without telling her.

“Are you listening, Reid?” Hotch’s voice makes Spencer focus back in on the screen.

“Oh, y-yeah. Yeah, of course. Um, I was just thinking that this choice of rope to bind the victims is interesting.” He doles out a few facts about it, which seems to do an adequate job of convincing everyone that he’s paying attention.

They take a break when the main briefing is over—Jack needs something from Hotch and Sergio has apparently knocked something breakable off of Emily’s kitchen counter. He slides his headphones off and mutes his mic. Apparently that’s a cue you’ve been waiting for, because only a few moments later you’re placing a mug of tea on his desk.

“Green tea,” you say. “Might help reduce the inflammation in your knee.” Then you’re lifting his foot off the small stool it’s resting on and sliding another pillow under it so his leg is more elevated.

“Wh—“ he starts, but you’re already hurrying back into the kitchen. You come back with a baggie of ice wrapped in a dishtowel in your hands, which you place it gently on top of his knee.

“Twenty minutes on, twenty minutes off,” you say. “Then repeat with heat instead, like your physical therapist said. I’ll get the heating pad from the bedroom.”

“Hey, wait.” Spencer snags your wrists before you can walk away again. “How’d you know it was hurting?”

“Oh, I always know,” you reply. “You should have realized that by now.”

He thinks on that as you leave to get the heating pad, sipping his tea. You do always seem to just know, whether he’s in physical pain, a bad case is bothering him, or even if he’s just in a bad mood and doesn’t know why himself.

Not a day goes by where he doesn’t feel incredibly lucky to have you in his life.

“I’m leaving it by this outlet behind you. Have you been doing your stretches?”

He bites his lip, hesitating because he knows you won’t like the answer. But he doesn’t have to say it; you can tell from his expression.

“Spencer. You know you need to be doing them.”

“I know, I do,” he insists. “I just... can’t really get up and do them with these headphones.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Okay, so take them off. Your laptop has speakers.”

“But I don’t want to disturb you,” he protests. Since you work the night shift, you sleep during the day, usually heading to bed around 11 AM. He doesn’t want the noise from the Zoom calls to keep you up. Much like the bullpen in the FBI building, the calls can get rowdy.

“You won’t,” you assure. “I’ll just shut the bedroom door.”

“I guess that works,” he relents. “But I feel weird getting up and stretching in front of everyone. Like, wouldn’t that be disruptive?”

You sigh. “Spencer, I understand it’ll make you self-conscious, but you want full mobility in your knee again, right?”

“Yeah, I do, I get it,” he says sullenly, looking down into his mug. “I need to do the stretches if I want it to heal well.”

“Hey.” You take one of his hands and squeeze it. “I’m not trying to annoy you. I just want you to get better and be in less pain. I don’t like to see you hurting.”

“You’re not annoying me. I guess I’m just... not really used to being taken care of,” he admits quietly.

“Well, I’m gonna fix that.”

The confidence in your voice makes him unable to hold back a smile. “Alright.”

You smile back. “Is there anything else I can do?”

Spencer’s about to tell you that you’ve done plenty when an idea strikes him. He tilts his head to the side. “Well, there is something.”

“Yes?”

“There’s some research—nothing too substantial, but still some—that says kisses can help relieve pain,” he says.

You laugh, but it’s not unkind. “Oh, so you want me to kiss it better?”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, glancing away shyly.

“Okay, then.” You tuck his hair behind his ear and press a kiss to his forehead. “Better?” you ask softly.

He hums. “Better.”

“Good.” You stand back up and stretch. “Well, I’ll be awake for a few more hours, so let me know if you need anything.”

“I will.”

Spencer puts his headphones back on—he wants to wait to unplug them until you go to bed to spare you from hearing anything gruesome—and looks back at the screen to find Morgan, Emily, JJ, and Garcia staring him down. Rather hesitantly, he unmutes his mic and asks, “What?”

Emily is grinning—she looks the more awake than she has all morning. “Is there anything you wanna tell us?” she asks.

“Yeah, Spence,” JJ chimes in, “any new developments in your life?”

“I don’t—” he starts, then it hits him like a truck. He remembered to mute his mic, but the camera was still on. Clearly, they all saw you kiss his forehead. He barely stops himself from hitting his head against the table; he covers his face with his hands instead and groans.

“Isn’t the whole point of all this that we stay away from other people?” Morgan asks, and Spencer doesn’t have to look up to know that Derek has a shit-eating grin on his face.

“People outside of your household,” he corrects without thinking.

“Oh my god!” Garcia shrieks and he winces, pulling the headphones off out of instinct. He’s not the only one—JJ jumps and yanks her earbuds out, and Derek lifts one side of his headphones away from his ear. Spencer hesitantly copies him, putting one half of his headphones back on.

“Jesus, Pen, you scared the shit out of Sergio,” Emily’s saying.

“Sorry, I’m so sorry,” she says, then turns her attention completely to Spencer. “Boy wonder. You’re living with someone and I’m just now hearing about it?”

“I mean, you never asked,” he points out.

“Well, I didn’t think I’d have to!” she huffs. “You usually tell your friends if you’re seeing someone new, let alone living with them!”

“You do, maybe. Emily and I don’t,” he says.

Emily herself shrugs. “Good point. Fair enough, Reid.”

“Besides, we’re not living together,” he continues, “We’re quarantining together.”

“Right, because that’s such a big difference,” JJ teases. He glares at her in return.

Rossi returns to his desk before Penelope can start bombarding Spencer with questions. But there’s no reprieve for him—the man takes one look around and knows something’s up. “Okay, what’s going on?” he asks.

“We just found out pretty boy has a partner,” Morgan sing-songs before Spencer can say anything.

“Oh really?”

“Yeah.”

“And he didn’t tell any of us!” Garcia adds.

Spencer groans again and presses the heels of his hands into his eyes. “This is exactly why I didn’t say anything,” he mutters.

A knocking sound draws his attention away from the call. You’re standing in the bedroom doorway, your hand resting on the doorframe. “You okay?” you ask. “I just heard you groan.”

Spencer mutes his mic again and then leans over so he’s out of the camera’s frame. “They found out,” he sighs.

“Found out what?”

“Found out about... you.”

Realization crosses your face. “They saw me kissing you better?”

“Yeah. I forgot the camera was still on,” he says sheepishly.

“Well, it was bound to happen eventually.” You make your way over to him and take the ice off his knee. “It’s been twenty minutes, by the way.”

“Thanks. So, um...” He picks up the fidget toy you bought him when he was going stir-crazy in the hospital and starts messing with it. “What do you wanna do about this?”

“Whatever you’re most comfortable with,” you reply immediately.

“Okay, good answer,” he says. “But I actually want to know how you feel about this.”

“Well, I’m fine with meeting them, even if it’s just over Zoom. But if you’d rather wait, I’m fine with that, too. Really,” you add when he raises an eyebrow.

“Okay, well.” Spencer looks back at the screen. Hotch has returned now, and even though he can’t hear anything, it’s clear they’re all waiting on him. Best to just do this now, he thinks, otherwise I’ll be hearing about it all day. “How would you feel about meeting them right now?”

You blink. “Um, okay. So long as you don’t mind me looking like I was up all night, because, you know... I was.”

“You look fine,” he reassures. “Uh, just stay put for a second. Let me ask if this is okay.”

He readjusts to sit in his chair properly. He starts to put his headphones back on, but you unplug them so you can hear what’s happening.

“You ready to continue, Reid?” Hotch asks. It’s business as usual with him—if he was told what happened earlier, Spencer can’t tell.

“Well, actually,” he starts, and nervousness bubbles up in his chest. He glances up and you give him a reassuring smile. “Actually, I was wondering if I could introduce you guys to someone first?”

Garcia squeals. “Ooh, sir, please say yes!”

“Just keep it quick,” Hotch says. He didn’t even hesitate—they totally told him.

Spencer takes a deep breath, then gestures for you to come over. You seem a little nervous as well, but you handle it well, walking around the desk and into the frame. “Oh, we should have gotten you something to sit on,” he laments when you lean over the back of his chair.

“It’s fine.” You drape your arms around his shoulders and adjust so your head is on the same level as his. It’s silent for a moment, then you say, “Well, introduce me, silly.”

“Oh!” He clears his throat, trying to ignore the heat he feels in his cheeks. “Um, this is (Y/N). My... my partner.”

The call explodes with greetings, everyone talking over each other. “Slow down, slow down,” Spencer pleads. This is all overwhelming enough—he doesn’t need any excess stimuli.

Once it settles, everyone takes their turn introducing themselves (you already know who they all are, though, as he’s told you so much about them). Then you field a few questions—what you do for work, how you met, what your favorite food is (that was Rossi—Spencer suspects that he wants to know for the first dinner party he can hold after quarantine is over).

It’s going well. Everyone seems to like you, and you’re getting by just fine. Until Garcia asks her question, that is.

“So, (Y/N), how long has boy wonder been keeping you a secret from us?”

Both of you tense. “Uh, you know what, I’ll let him answer that,” you say quickly. “It’s just about time for me to go to bed.”

“Wha—no. No, it’s not. It’s just barley past nine,” Spencer protests.

“Yeah, I’m really tired. I’m gonna try and get some extra sleep today.” You give a little wave. “It was nice meeting you all.”

“Don’t leave me,” he whispers desperately. “Not with that question.”

You feign a yawn. “Sorry, I’m just too tired.”

He watches you go back to the bedroom with a pout.

“Well?” Garcia insists when he looks back at her.

Spencer cringes and preemptively lowers his computer volume.

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

tell me what you thought here!

[spideyspeaches]

Inconveniences ↬ p.p

AN: This is a reupload from my old account!

An entry for @geminiparkers’s 1k writing challenge!

Pairing- College!Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Warnings: mentions of sex :)

Wc: 1.7k

Masterlist || Taglist

1.

You didn’t understand what people saw in the Avengers. They were annoying and had no concept of personal space.

Or maybe those were just your thoughts. You’ve been living with them ever since quarantine started, finally able to convince your parents that you were capable of living alone, you were an avenger, after all. Well you weren’t really living alone, as the people in question along with your boyfriend, Spider-Man lived with you.

Never were you ever glad that May Parker, the angel, had allowed you two to stay together (without much embarrassment).

Back to the point where you got no privacy. For example:

“Peterrrr” you whined, elongating his name to get his attention. You had been horny all day long, craving some semblance of touch from your extremely sweet, hot, amazing, beautiful boyfriend.

He hummed, not even looking up from the laptop he was typing on. He was laying on his side, so you tried to shimmy yourself between the little space on the couch and him, only to grunt when he wouldn’t move.

So you tried something else, because fuck the Avengers you wanted a dick now.

“Petey petey pie,” you whispered, tracing his abs from under his t-shirt. You knew your trick would work, because you could feel them clench.

“Y/N, not here sweetheart.” He muttered, holding your hand while he continued to ignore you.

Pouting, you huffed and flopped back as much as you could.

“You promised you would be free tonight! Gah you’re such a nerd!” You whined, rolling your eyes when you saw Nat entered the living room.

At first she ignored you both, sipping at her milkshake and walking towards the kitchen.

“You chose me and not Harry remember? Thought you were into nerds not gonna lie.” He smirked, his voice low, the kind that had you clenching without a thought.

“And? Are you questioning my choices? Come on Petey you can do your homework later.” You said.

You climbed on top of him, your foot purposefully catching his dick. By now you were practically on his chest , tracing circles around his nipples.

Smirking, you continued to pepper his exposed neck with featherlight kisses, making sure to moan every now and then.

“Y/N, what are you doing?” He clenched his jaw, huffing to show that your kisses were not affecting him.

“Well you’re being a party pooper, so I’m having mine.” You muttered, voice muffled as you slid your hands inside his t-shirt, scratching your fingers against his chest.

Grunting, he gently pushed you off, sitting up with his laptop on his legs, “Y/N this is important."

Mouth open now, you puffed your cheeks, folding your hands on your chest.

"Can you believe this dude?!” You shouted, looking at Nat while pointing at your smirking boyfriend, “he chooses homework over sex!”

***

2.

Sipping at your drink, you smiled at the scene in front of you. It was almost half a year under quarantine, and Tony had finally agreed to host a party, albeit an internal one with only the Avengers, and May, now that she was out of duty from the hospital.

“How’re you feeling babe?” Peter appeared, wrapping his hands around your stomach, resting his nose on the crook of your neck.

Sighing, you leaned onto his head, enjoying the way he kissed your neck, caressing your waist with his thumbs.

“I’m good, things are getting normal again, if only the president caught the virus, this country would be a much better place.” You snorted, feeling your back vibrate as he laughed.

“You hate him so much don’t you?” He said.

“He’s hate worthy.” You shrugged, turning around to wrap your hands around his neck, playing with the baby hair on the nape.

Leaning forward, you hummed against his lips, crading your hands through his hair as he pushed you into his chest, fingers playing with the hem of your pants.

“Someone’s gonna walk in on us.” You mutter against his mouth, moaning as his tongue attacks your lips, parting them hungrily.

Swaying with the loud music, you whimpered when he touched your waist, his fingers hot and leaving shocks, your pussy throbbing and gut coiling with anticipation.

Panting desperately, you pulled at his shirt, fingers scrunching in the material as he lifted you up, planting on the counter top as you wrapped your legs around his waist, effectively straddling him. Feeling his muscles rippling under the shirt, gave a throaty moan, huffing due to the lack of oxygen.

Sweat was already coating your foreheads, creating highlights on his cheekbones and reflecting off the lens of his glasses-

“Peter did you see my- Oh! Oh am I disturbing you? Why don’t you use the bedroom though, I don’t think Tony would like if you do it in the kitchen-"

"May! Oh my god-"

”-It’s okay honey, you’re not a teenager anymore-“

Falling off the counter top, you bit your lip, playing with the hem of your shirt, not meeting May’s eyes. You look at your blushing boyfriend, embarrassed at being caught making out in between a party.

"May, just go, please-”

“Um, sorry I was just leaving anyway, you know, I got work to do. Yeah. You both continue.” She smirked, nodding at you and sending a sly wink at you.

Shaking your head, you looked at Peter, twiddling your hands together.

“Sooo, wanna make out?” You ask.

“Yeah. Sure"

***

3.

The dishes clinked together, the noise echoing in the empty kitchen. Peter moved with agility, hands cleaning the dishes as he passed it to you who were putting them on the rack.

You saw him take a deep breath, biting your lips and gulping. You knew what was coming next.

Peter had always been protective of you, as a friend or as a girlfriend. He protected everyone who he loved.

"I’m sorry-"

"Save it. Take your meds and go to sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow.” He grunted, nearly smashing the plates as you raised your eyebrows.

“Well be careful of the plates, they’re fragile.” You joked, heart beating fast as you contemplate his reaction.

“How are you so chill about all this?! You know you were reckless, and yet you do decide to not acknowledge the fact that you almost died!” He slammed his fist, nearly breaking the plate with his hand, a small piece did break, piercing his skin.

You jumped at his sudden aggression, your own anger building.

“I’m a big girl now Peter, I can take care of myself, I don’t need you to look out for me everytime I go out!” You snarled, curling your fist, “and you’re one to talk you hypocrite! You’re always so reckless during patrols, how is me getting blasted by a bomb in a fireproof suit, reckless when you get hit by bullets on a daily basis?"

"I stopped listening after you said you got blasted by a bomb, you’re not enhanced Y/N, how am I supposed to-”, he said voice cracking, “I love you okay? I can’t - I can’t lose you okay?"

Your chest ached at his hurt voice. Peter had lost a lot in his short life, his parents, his uncle, almost lost Tony. And now you felt bad about making him feel that way.

"I’m sorry Petey.” You said, taking his cheek in one hand, holding his suds filled hand in another, “You’re hurt."

He chuckled, looking at his hand where the broken plate had pierced it. Tony wouldn’t mind one broken plate, he was a billionaire after all.

"Yeah.” He said, sniffing and putting it under the faucet to get off any remaining blood. You watched in fascination as the wound closed up, not even leaving a scar behind as if you were watching a time lapse.

Rolling your eyes, you grinned mischievously, poking his chest with you fingers and snorting as he giggled, pulling you closer-

“Bucky! Give me back my cookie now or I swear to god-"

"Ughhh you guys do this purposely don’t you?” You groaned, glaring at Bucky and Sam as they stop in their tracks, looking at each other and smirking.

“We neither confirm nor deny your accusations.” Bucky said, plopping the cookie in his mouth and walking out of the kitchen as you bang your forehead against the table.

Why can’t people just let you be intimate with your boyfriend for one second?

***

+1

“Are you sure no one’s gonna walk in, Spider-Man?” You hummed against his lips, moving in slow motions as he caresses your bum.

“If they do, I’ll take care of it.” He rasps, squeezing your bottom and fingering the hem of your shirt shorts.

You were sitting in Peter’s bedroom after a full day of teasing him, because you were horny and desperate. Softly kneading your fingers through his hair, you whined at the feel of his bulge against your crotch, a wet feeling already seeping through those shorts.

Rubbing your hips faster against his, you huff, tracing his biceps and squeezing them occasionally as he moved down with his lips, slipping off your tank top.

“Thought you had super speed.” You grunted, urging him to go faster as he unclasped your bra before looking at you with a smirk, his eyes shining with mirth and lust.

“You were a bad girl today, teasing me every opportunity you got, it’s only fair if I get to do the same.” He said before squeezing your one boob and sucking on the other, a wet pop noise leaving his mouth every time he sucked on it.

Spreading your legs further, you shimmy out of your shorts, lifting Peter’s shirt up to get him out of it before he stopped you.

“Oh no, you’re not-” he started before the door opened with a bang.

“Did you guys-” before Tony could see anything, Peter produced his web-shooters and shot at the door, locking it for at least another two hours.

A muffled, “at least use protection!” Was heard from outside the door. Your face was burning with embarrassment, looking at Peter with an innocently terrified look on your face. He could hear your heart racing, and it was making him like, really hard.

“Now, where to begin.” He whispered, chills shooting up your spine, goosebumps appearing on your skin and the wet feeling intensifying between your thighs.

“Let me at least undress you.” You plead, lifting his t-shirt and unbuttoning his jeans simultaneously.

“No, you were a brat today, and brats don’t get a taste without punishment.” He smirked, flipping you so you hit the backrest, holding your arms up and…webbing You up against the headboard, “today I’m doing all the work."

And you didn’t mind it really. Like, at all.

[write-orflight]

Settle Down: Prologue

**Gif Not Mine**

Prev -  Next

Pairings: SpencerXReader (kinda enemies to lovers) 

Rating: M

Words: 2.5K

Warnings: None, will be smut in eventual chapters

Request: OPEN/CLOSED

Summary: Y/N and Spencer don’t get along but turn to each other for the one thing you need someone else for... A baby. You can plantonically start a family, right?

A.N: this is a bad bio but idk how else to put it. it’s a baby fic! I wouldn’t say this is enemies to lovers but they certainly don’t like each other at first so it kinda is. comment on this chap or message to be on the taglist. much love, Cia

                Prologue:  A Powerpoint, Really? 

If you had told 16 year old Y/N that she’d be working at the FBI, she would’ve called you batshit. 

Not only, did you not have any respect for authority or any inclination for rules in that matter, working for the FBI was never in the forefront of your mind. But when given the option of Jail or a full time job with benefits, it was fairly easy to make a choice. You remember the first day when you met your work partner and now best friend Penelope Garcia or specifically the day she caught you. 

You were waiting tables like you did every weekend to stay afloat. Today was unreasonably slow so you were just finding small things to do. That’s when she came in, an extremely brightly dressed woman, sat at the bar of the diner. 

“Hi, how can I help you?” You smile at the woman who looks up at you and smiles. 

“Yes, I’m looking for the Emerald City.” She says, smirking at you. Your face drops, you knew what she was talking about. 

When you started hacking it was only supposed to be a one time thing. You grew up poor, spent most of your life poor so when you saw your childhood home was set to be demolished to build a fancy new headquarters for Scotty Realins, an upcoming asshole tech CEO, without a cent going to your parents.  Something in you snapped. You had already been pretty decent at code and you flirted with a couple of guys in your STEM classes to learn how to hack so you would say you were pretty good at this point. So you hacked into the website and made sure all the Revenue for that day actually was wired to lower-income housing. At the end of the day, it was only a couple hundred thousand dollars but what was pennies to Scotty Realins changed some people's lives. 

So you started doing it more, to different companies under the pseudonym OZ. The money always went to different places that needed it whether it was paying the rent for a bunch of families or anonymous large donations to food banks or soup kitchens. You gained a bit of fame in the hacker community as a modern day Robin Hood. 

All good things come to an end though. And the end was standing in front of you in clunky, rainbow colored jewelry. 

“You don’t look like a cop.” you say, crossing your arms. 

“I’ll do you one better.” She says, pulling her FBI badge out, showing it to you briefly. You curse under your breath. “I’ve been following you for a while, OZ. Though I wasn’t expecting the man behind the curtain to be a woman. I will say, having my computers route back to a loop of “We’re not in Kansas anymore.” everytime I tried to track your IP was impressive. I couldn’t even be mad about it.” 

“Clearly not that impressive because you found me.” 

“Still took me longer than usual, which is saying a lot.” 

“This is a really long winded conversation if you’re just here to arrest me.” You say, taking off your apron. No use in keeping it on if you were going to be in handcuffs soon. 

“That’s because I’m not here to arrest you. I’m here to offer you a job, to work under me as a Tech Analyst in the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI.” Penelope says. 

“And if I don’t want to?” 

“Then you’re going to want a lawyer and my very good handsome friend outside is going to arrest you. You’re smart and you have a chance to help people which is why you started hacking in the first place, right? Please don’t make me do that.” She looked at you pleadingly like she really cared and didn’t want you to go to prison. You didn’t say anything but something told you she’d been in the same boat as you before. 

“Hmmm…. I’m tired of waiting tables anyway.” 

So you uprooted your life and moved from Philadelphia to Quantico. Garcia took you under her wing and pretty soon the two of you functioned in her batcave like a well oiled machine. You could do without the constant gore that filled your screens but at the end of the day, you loved what you were doing and you wouldn’t change that for the world. 

The team was an added bonus, it was nice to have your own little found family. Garcia, of course, taking on the role as best friend mere days after your first meeting. You met Derek Morgan right after you agreed to take the job, he’d been there to arrest you and was very glad he wouldn’t have to do that. He told you often about how you reminded him of his sister and he regarded you in the role of younger sister from that day on. The next person you met had been Aaron Hotchner, your new boss. It took him a couple of weeks to warm up to you, you guessed he had a difficulty trusting new people and when he would call you guys for information he would always ask for Garcia instantly instead of you, not very trusting in your skills yet. Though that changed when you had been the one to track down the Unsub once. 

Rossi was easily won over when you told him about your Italian side of the family, specifically your grandmother who loved to cook and left you a lot of recipes. You and him often went back and forth in sharing dishes. Emily and JJ had also been easily won over with one bottle of tequila and a regrettable girls night. 

Then there was Dr. Spencer Reid.     

You had a lot of opinions on Dr. Reid, most of them weren’t good. It wasn’t like you hated him in fact, you’d consider him a friend but the two of you seemed to butt heads on well, everything. Both of you needing to be the smartest in the room and neither of you wanting to admit when you’re wrong will do that though. You still respected Spencer though, he was an extreme asset to the team and he was your best friend’s other best friend so you couldn’t really hate the guy. 

You also didn’t have to like him. 

So you had a good job, good friends, a nice house to live in. You were finally happy, content even. So why did it feel like something was missing? 

The something missing came in a stroller pushed by JJ the next week. 

The last case had been rough. Really rough. So while the team was on their way back you and Garcia hatched a plan for JJ to come visit from maternity leave and surprise everyone with the baby. While you guys were waiting for them to land, Garcia wanted to show JJ something she had gotten her godson so JJ asked if you could watch him and feed him until she got back, which you obviously agreed to. As you were feeding the child his bottle, and his ravioli sized fist wrapped around your finger you realized what had been missing. 

Fuck, you wanted a kid. 

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

You told Garcia first, it slipped when she noticed how off you were being. You wanted to have a kid bad now and you knew you didn’t want to wait. Penny tried to convince you that you’d “find the right person” but let’s face it, with this job, long term relationships were few and far inbetween. Plus you didn’t need a man, you had a good job and insurance, you knew you could provide a child with a life full of love it deserved. So you made an appointment at a fertility clinic. As the doctor was talking to you about your options, you felt yourself feeling more and more down about your decision and that only increased as you looked in the book of sperm donors in front of you. You looked at too many serial killers daily that it made you uneasy, carrying a stranger's baby. Maybe Garcia was right and your best bet was to wait for ‘the right guy.’ Even though you really didn’t want to. 

You walked into work later, a little sullen. Heading immediately towards the coffee machine. Penelope, who had been at Derek’s desk, makes a beeline towards you.  

“So how’d it go?” She says, smiling. “Did you make an appointment to be baby-fied?” 

You sigh. “I couldn’t do it, Pen.” You say, frowning. “I just-- We see so much here that I don’t want to accidentally end up with a sociopath’s baby because I couldn’t wait.” 

“But you don’t want to wait, do you?” She says softly, empathizing with you. 

“No, I don’t.” You sigh again, finishing making your cup before walking back out into the bullpen. JJ had brought Henry again for the others to see on the slow paperwork day. You tried not to look bitter but it was like she was flaunting the one thing you couldn’t have, even if it was unintentional. You watched as she handed the baby to Spencer, who instantly smiled and made faces at the laughing baby. 

“Spencer is actually a surprisingly good godfather.” Garcia says, smiling at the exchange in front of you. “Kinda makes you wonder what he’d be like with his own baby geniuses.” She says before walking over to the group and scooping her godson out of Spencer’s arms, Spencer still held on to his fist with his pinky, smiling down at the child. 

“Yea…” You say, to no one in particular. 

You had an idea. A probably bad one. 

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

You were sitting in the coffee shop, nervously fiddling on your laptop while waiting for Spencer. You were surprised he even agreed to meet with you for coffee though you were sure he was just doing it out of curiosity because you told him you had something important to talk about. You weren’t even sure if you were going about this the right way. Hey Spencer, I know we’re not even friends but how would you feel about fathering my child? God, this was going to be terrible. 

You looked up when you heard the tell-tale bell on the door indicating someone walking in. Spencer gave you a small wave before going to the counter to get a coffee. You took that time to nervously sip yours. Your heart was beating a mile a minute, it was now or never. 

“Hey.” Spencer says, when he finally gets to the table, coffee in hand. “Why are you all the way in the corner?” 

“This isn’t really a conversation I want overheard.” 

Spencer tilts his head confused at that. “So what is the conversation we’re supposed to be having. I asked Garcia but she seemed to also have no idea.” 

“Yea, I didn’t tell her on account of this maybe going extremely bad.” You say, before sighing and turning your laptop around so Spencer could see the Powerpoint screen you have on it. When he reads it,  he chokes on his coffee.

“A Powerpoint, really?” He chokes, still coughing around the coffee. “Y/N, what is this?” 

“This is Reasons Why You Should Make a Baby With me.” 

“Yea, I got that from the title, Y/N.” He says, still shocked. “Is this a joke?!” 

“I wish it was, Reid.”

“Can I at least ask why you thought a Powerpoint was the best way to ask?”   

“Because I felt you’d be more inclined to consider it if you knew I spent time on a presentation.” 

“That’s true.” He leans back, taking a sip of his coffee, gesturing for you to continue. You hit the next slide. 

“Ok, reason number one is we both want kids.” You say, looking at him. “Garcia told me the other day that you were talking about how much you wanted a kid and I also want a kid.”  

“I did tell Garcia that.” He muses. 

“Reason two, an offspring between us would probably result in another genius. As you know, you are smart.” 

“Yes.” 

“And I am smarter.” You say, Spencer opens his mouth to protest but you keep talking. “A child between us could probably be the next Einstein.” 

Spencer nods and you continue. “Reason three, I’d be a great mom.” 

“That’s a debatable fact.” 

“No, it’s not. You’ve seen me around kids, have I ever given an inclination that I wouldn’t be?” You ask, he shakes his head. “Plus, I happen to think you’d be a great father. Which brings me to Reason 4.” You say clicking through the next slide. “If you don’t want to be involved in raising that’s fine. I’m perfectly fine raising the child myself an--” 

“What?! No!” Spencer says, sitting up. “If I do agree to have this baby, which I’m not completely doing yet. I want to be involved, I want them to know I’m their father and that I didn’t abandon them because I know what that’s like.” He says, seriously. You nod, already knowing this about Spencer. 

“Reason 5: I’d be the perfect platonic co-parent, I won’t ask you for anything unless it’s pertaining to the child and if you decide that later down the road you want your own family, I’d be supportive and help you along the way.”

Spencer nods. “We’re never home enough for a baby.” 

“That’s where you’re wrong because I’ll be here. I mainly stay here anyway and if there’s ever a case where you need a tech analyst to fly out, Garcia’s already agreed to have it already be her when I floated the baby idea around last month.”  

Spencer hummed, silent for a second. “You really want a kid, huh?” 

“Yes.” You say. 

“So much so you’re asking me?” Spencer says, matter-of-factly. “A Coworker you barely speak to?”

Well, when he says it like that. 

“Yes. I’m asking because while we don’t get along the best you are still one of the most compassionate, understanding men I know. And I know that if I have to raise this kid with somebody, you would love them just as much as I would.” You say, Spencer nods at that. “So, please?” 

Spencer sighs. “When’s your next appointment? At the fertility clinic?” 

You didn’t even want to ask how he knew about that. “Next tuesday.” 

He nods. “I’m going with you.” He says, standing, pulling the strap of his messenger bag over his shoulder. “This isn’t a yes.” 

“It’s not a no, either.” You point out. 

“No, it’s not.” He says, leaving you behind in the coffee shop with a huge grin on your face.

Taglist: @moonshinerbynight​ @crimeshowtrash​

Message/reply to be tagged!!

[tefilovesreading]

Things I love about you (Charlie Gillespie x Reader)

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x Fem!Reader

Word count:1,6k

Warning: Some swearing (not really), a little bit of French, mention of wine bc why not. Other than that is just fluff, like loads of it.

Edited by @theamazingtomholland​

MASTERLIST

Charlie always thought people were crazy when they used to list things they loved about their partners, maybe because he never fell in love as hard as he did for the girl sleeping peacefully, tangled in the sheets, and wearing nothing but his t-shirt. He kissed her shoulder before leaving the room, ready for his morning run.

He knew very well she’d still be fast asleep once he came back with breakfast, even if that meant coming back in almost an hour. And Charlie was right. When he came back an hour later, with sweat glistening his skin and the bagels he bought for breakfast, his girlfriend was still sleeping, and he let out a chuckle when he saw the nest made of pillows she always made in her sleep whenever she was sleeping on her own.

That was one of the little things she did that he completely loved. It was as if she needed to feel something holding her in her sleep, especially if he wasn’t sleeping next to her. They would cuddle before they fell asleep, but even if she wasn’t in his arms the whole night, somehow they always were touching each other in their sleep. It could be their hands, a foot, or their backs, but they were always close.

After a quick shower, he sat next to his sleeping girlfriend, caressing her arm to wake her up.

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” he said in a soft voice when the girl stretched out, opening her eyes slowly.

“Morning, Charlie,” Y/N said, her voice laced with sleep, “Are you going for a run?”

“I already went for a run, my love,” the boy laughed softly, “I got us breakfast, so get your pretty ass out of bed, because I’m starving.”

“I’ll be right there, honey,” she smiled at him and rubbed her face against the pillow one last time before getting up.

Charlie handed her a warm cup of coffee, pointed to the bagels on the table. Y/N picked the one she thought was hers, knowing her boyfriend preferred the one with the beacon.

“This smells so damn good,” Charlie heard her say, and when he looked at her, she was sneakily sniffing the bagel. 

And that was one of the little things Y/N did that he found adorable. Every time she had to eat or drink something, she’d smell it slightly, as if she wanted to find out the flavors beforehand.

“Who said that one was yours?” Charlie questioned jokingly just before she took the first bite. Y/N furrowed her eyebrows and put the bagel down.

“But you always order the one with avocado and tomato for me, baby,” she pouted and Charlie laughed. He got closer to the girl and pecked her lips.

“I was messing with you,” he clarified.

“What do you have to do today?” Y/N asked, before taking a sip of her coffee.

“I have an interview in like an hour,” he checked his phone with a grimace, “I should probably start getting ready. Do you have to go to the office?”

“No, but I need to catch up on some work,” Y/N answered with a shrug, “Other than that, I guess I’m just gonna chill here.”

“Lucky you,” Charlie stuck his tongue out playfully.

Later that day, when Charlie came back to Y/N’s apartment, he found her sitting on the floor with her chin resting on one of her knees. She always was sitting in the weirdest positions, and then she’d complain about back pain or having pins and needles in her legs. He thought it was cute because it was her way of finding the best position to concentrate on her work.

“You’re gonna end up with back pain, my love,” Charlie warned her and sat on the floor next to her, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Char,” the girl said, turning her attention to the hazel-eyed boy. She laced her fingers behind his neck and pulled him closer, rubbing their noses together before pressing her lips to his in a welcoming kiss.

“I love you, you know that, right?” Charlie murmured against her lips. She hummed in response and he kissed her again.

“I love you too, baby,” she whispered back. 

They sat there in silence, while she finished with whatever project she was working on, and once she turned off her laptop, Charlie put on a movie.

“Are we gonna make the effort to cook dinner or do you wanna order something?” He asked, making himself comfortable on the couch and patting the spot next to him, inviting her to join him.

“I’m in the mood for pizza,” she told him and cuddled up next to her boyfriend. 

“Five minutes and I’ll call,” Charlie mentioned, wrapping his arms around Y/N and holding her tight against him. Her hair tickled him right in the nose, and he could smell the soft fragrance of her shampoo. “Is it mango or lemon?” He questioned after a while, grabbing a strand of her hair.

“Mango, do you like it?”

“Yeah! it smells great, babe.” Charlie pressed a kiss on top of her head and then struggled a bit to get hold of his phone.

After a quick call to the pizza place they always ordered from, they stayed on the couch, enjoying being in the arms of the other. It was small moments like that one, a movie playing on the tv, but their attention fixed on each other. Charlie loved to hear her laugh every time he tickled her or the funny faces she made whenever he faked pushing her off the couch.

“Pizza’s here!” She chirped when the ring bell resonated through the apartment, standing up quickly and making her way to the door.

“Do you want wine or beer?” Charlie asked, walking to the kitchen.

“Wine,” Y/N put the pizza box on the counter and pointed to the small wine cabinet, “my mom sent me one the other day and she said it was perfect for pizza and pasta.”

“No plates, babe,” Charlie mentioned when he saw his girlfriend trying to reach a couple of plates, “that way we only have to wash the glasses.”

“You’re getting lazy, Gillespie,” Y/N teased the boy, but did as he told her.

With a new movie playing on the tv, pizza, and a bottle of wine they sat again on the couch, bickering over small things like Charlie muttering the dialogues because he knows all the lines or the fact that Y/N can’t sit still while watching a movie.

“If you kick me one more time, Y/N,” he warned her, putting his glass of wine on the coffee table before she could make him spill it on the couch.

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” Y/N batted her eyelashes and pouted at her boyfriend, “What are you gonna do about it anyway?” 

“Y/N stop it,” Charlie warned again, but Y/N kicked his thigh again softly, it was more a nudge than a real kick. 

He glanced at her, a grin forming on his lips before he grabbed the girl by her feet and pulled her into a laying position, and attacked her sides with his fingers.

“No, Charlie!” The girl squealed, trying to move away from his hands, “please!”

“That’s not gonna work, my love,” he cackled, moving one of his hands up to her neck knowing that was her weak spot.

“Charlie!” Their laughter filled the room, and Y/N squirmed under the boy, “S’il te plaît, babe!”

“Oh! Tu parles français, mon amour.” Charlie knew his girlfriend only knew how to say a few things in French, please being one of them. He stopped his attack and left a soft kiss on her nose, before pressing their lips together in a kiss. 

Y/N pulled away from the kiss first, still short of breath because of the tickles, with a smile on her face, she brought her hands up to cup her boyfriend’s face and pulled him into a kiss again.

“I love you, my idiot,” she breathed against his lips, “now get off, you’re crushing me.”

“I love you too, mon amour.���

Charlie was about to get in bed when Y/N walked in with a towel wrapped around her body and her hair wet. He let out a sigh, too tired to complain now.

“Sit so we can’t get this done fast,” he pointed to the bed and plugged in the hairdryer. 

Sure, he was exhausted, but he loved to help his girl dry her hair, and be a part of her little night routine. That was one of the things he loved about her, she had a tendency to be unpredictable, but no matter what, she’d always take a shower before bed, take her time putting on lotions and skincare, and he’d always help her dry her hair if he was staying over. 

He loved the fact that he could tell if Y/N was laying next to him just by her fruity fragrance. He loved to help her relax at the end of the day, and somehow, drying her hair helped him relax too. 

After her hair was finally dry, he covered himself with the covers and sent a quick goodnight message to his family group chat, while he waited for his girl to finish her night routine.

“Vanilla or coconut?” She wondered, fumbling things in her nightstand drawer. He saw the two hand creams she was holding and smiled.

“Vanilla.”

She squeezed the tube to put cream on her own hands and then squeezed cream on his hands.

“You know I love your sexy guitarist hands, but we don’t like dry hands in this house,” Y/N commented with a sweet smile.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Charlie said, shaking his head in amusement. 

“Goodnight, Charlie,” the girl answered, cuddling next to him.

“I love you,” he wrapped an arm around her and closed his eyes, happy to spend another night next to the girl he loved so much.

“I love you too, babe.”

[alwaysachorusgirl]

Adoption Day

Pairing: Frederick Chilton x Female Reader

Word Count: 2089

For: Covers the Animal Shelter square for @adarafaelbarba 's fall moodboard bingo

TW: very brief mention of past childhood abuse and animal abandonment, but other than that, it's mostly fluff

Dedication: This is for the world's best cat mom, @madamsnape921 ,because it's her birthday! Go send her some birthday love today!

Author's Note: Jumping back a little in the Cat Daddy Frederick timeline to cover Buttercup's adoption story. Per my previously established continuity, this would take place in January, right after New Year's, and prior to "Not According to Plan"

Tags: @itsjustmyfantasyroom @prurientpuddlejumper @thatesqcrush @welcometothemxdhouse @raulesparza4eva @teamsladsandgents @rosequcrtz

The winter wind howled outside the window and snow drifted across the windowpanes, but inside Frederick Chilton’s ornate home you were safe and warm. No, our home, I live here now, you thought to yourself. You were still getting used to thinking of it as your home, too. You were unpacking the last of the boxes from your recent move. A fire was roaring in the living room fireplace, giving the room a cozy, comforting glow. You inhaled the aroma of the hearty vegetable stew that was cooking in the crockpot in the kitchen, and your stomach growled. You were going to need to take a dinner break soon, and as if he was reading your mind, Frederick entered the room and came over to where you were placing your books on the expansive built-in shelves.

“How goes it with the books? Do you need more shelf space? I can always move somethings into my office if you need more.”

“Thank you, Frederick, but don’t worry; I think I have more than enough. I am, however, getting rather hungry. I think it’s time we ate dinner, don’t you?

“I couldn’t agree more, my love, shall I set the table?” he asked, taking your hand, and helping you to your feet.

“Thank you, Frederick, that would be lovely.”

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

“This stew is fantastic, my love! We’ll most certainly have to use this recipe again.”

When you didn’t respond right away, Frederick started to worry and reached for your hand. “Darling?”

“Oh! Sorry! I zoned out for a moment, must be more tired than I thought; Thank you, Frederick, I have a whole slew of crock pot recipes that are perfect for cold winter days.”

“Y/N, are you alright? Have I done something wrong? Is it the house? Is there something you’re not happy with?”

“What? Oh, Frederick, no!” You squeezed his reassuringly. “You haven’t done anything wrong, my love, and the house is perfectly fine. It’s just…” you paused, not sure how to broach your thoughts.

“What is it? Whatever you need, I’ll make sure you have it! Cost is no object!”

You took a breath and tried to collect your thoughts. You loved cats, but your previous apartment had not allowed pets. You had promised yourself that when you eventually moved you would be a cat mom again. It had been far too long. But it was something that you and Frederick hadn’t discussed yet, and you had no idea what his feelings were on the subject.

“What did you think about getting a cat?” You blurted out, bracing yourself for what you were sure was going to be an argument.

It was now Frederick’s turn to go silent, taken aback by your unexpected query. He mulled it over in his head before answering.

“Honestly, my love, I’ve never thought about it before. I never had a pet of any kind growing up. My parents did not allow animals in the house.”

“Oh, Frederick, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.” In theory, you knew you probably should have guessed that. You knew that Frederick’s father had been a hard, cruel man, and had been abusive toward Frederick and his mother. Frederick’s mother had been so worn down by it that she eventually shutdown, mentally and emotionally, and neglected to protect her son when he needed it the most. Of course, they hadn’t allowed pets, they hadn’t even allowed their son to have a normal childhood, or an ounce of happiness.

“My darling, you have nothing to apologize for,” said Frederick, placing soft kisses on the back of your hand. “If it’s a cat you want, then a cat you shall have. I’ll do some research after we finish here. Cats need supplies, right? Food, litter, toys, those fancy cat trees, cute little sweaters?”

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

After dinner you and Frederick sat side-by-side on the couch with your laptops, him researching what kind of supplies you going to need to buy, and you were looking at your local SPCA’s website.

“Good god, I had no idea how many different types of cat litter there were!”

“Oh, Frederick, if you think that’s bad, wait until you see how competitive the cat food market is. Hmm…that’s interesting…”

“What is it?” asked Frederick, looking over at your laptop.

“This listing here,” you said, pointing at a blank gray box. “There should be a picture here, like there is for the other listings, but it’s blank. It says it’s supposed to be a 2-month-old black female…. hang on; I have an idea.”

You grabbed your phone off the coffee table and scrolled through your contacts until you found the name you were looking for. You hit “Call” and waited.

“Hello?” A voice finally picked up on the other end.

“Joanne! Hi! It’s Y/N. How are you?”

“I’m great, how are you? It’s been ages since the last time we hung out.”

“I’m good, and you’re right; it has been too long. Is this a good time to talk?”

“Sure! What’s up?”

“Do you still work for the county SPCA?”

“Oh, you bet I do! Oh my god, are you finally in the market to adopt?”

“Yes, I am, and I have a question about one of the cat listings on the website. The one that’s missing a picture?”

“Yes, I just noticed that a few hours ago. Our website person put that up prematurely. The kitten was just spayed, and normally we wait until the animal has had adequate recovery time before we add them to the site, but accidents happen. Last I checked, the little one is recovering nicely and should be ready to interact a couple days. She’s the sweetest thing. Someone dumped her in a cardboard box at our front door. She had a leg injury, but that’s also healing up. She loves to play, loves to cuddle, and I’ll think she’ll thrive in a good home. Would you like to make an appointment to see her?”

“Yes, I would! What time slots do you have available?”

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

A few days later, you and Frederick walked arm in arm into the county SPCA. Frederick had rush-ordered all the supplies you thought you’d need and then some. You both excited and nervous. You’d already taken a huge step by moving in together, and now you were adopting a pet. You looked over at Frederick and noticed the uncertainty in his eyes. He also seemed leaning on his cane for support. He always seemed to do that when he was unsure about something. You gave his arm a gentle squeeze and kissed his cheek.

“It’s going to be okay, Frederick, you’re to be a wonderful cat dad. I believe in you.”

Frederick blushed and placed a soft kiss on your temple.

“Thank you, my love, I appreciate your faith in me, even though I’m still not sure what’s done to deserve it, or you.”

Before you could respond to that, Joanne came out her office and rushed toward you.

“Y/N! It’s so good to see you!”

“It’s good to see you, too, Joanne.” You enveloped her in a big hug and then motioned to Frederick. “Joanne, this is Dr. Frederick Chilton, my Frederick.”

Frederick gave you the most loving of looks, and nearly melted into a puddle at your feet at sound of you referring to him as “your Frederick.”

“Nice to meet you, Dr. Chilton,” said Joanne, extending her hand.

“And you,” he replied, shaking hands.

“Well, I suppose you want to meet the little one; right this way!”

You and Frederick followed Joanne to cat section of the shelter. You walked past several cats, each one trying to get your attention from their enclosures. If you had your way, you’d take them all home, but you didn’t think Frederick was quite ready for that yet; but maybe one day…

“Here she is, “announced Joanne, stopping in front of one of the enclosures. A tiny black, fluffy kitten was inside, and her eyes lit up when she saw you. She was immediately on her feet, and you noticed she still had a slight limp in her injured leg, but she was full of energy and mewing incessantly. Joanne opened the door and carefully lifted her out. You reached out to take her, but the impatient kitten leapt out of Joanne’s hands and into your waiting arms.

“Oh! Hello! Hi baby, hi sweetheart,” you cooed.

“Mew, mew, mew!”

You looked into her eyes, and it was love at first sight. You did your best to hold onto her, shifting and adjusting your arms to accommodate her constant movement and attempts to climb up your shoulder. You gave her a little scratch between her ears and kissed her head. She was perfect.

“Mew! Mew!”

“Yes, baby, it’s okay, I’ve got you, I’ve got you.”

Frederick stood there watching you with the kitten, completely dumbstruck. Just when he thought he couldn’t fall anymore in love with you, you had to go and surprise him. You were a natural cat mom, cradling the tiny ball of fluff and talking to her like she was a human. He saw the kitten rub her nose against your chin and looked like she was giving you kisses. He also saw the look of pure love and joy on your face, and he lived for that, wanted to see that every day. He didn’t know anything about raising a cat, but for you, he would try.

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

Joanne led you to a visitor’s room so that you and Frederick could spend some quality time getting to know the kitten. Frederick removed his coat and offered to take the kitten so that you could take off yours. You demonstrated how to hold the kitten and then handed her to Frederick. He held her close to chest and sat down.

“Mew?” the kitten looked up at him, confused as to who this new person was.

“It’s alright, little one, I’ve got you,” he tried to reassure her. A lock of his normally perfectly quaffed hair suddenly flopped in his face, and the kitten’s eyes grew wide.

“Mew?” she raised a paw and tentatively batted at Frederick’s hair. “Mew…”

“Oh, that’s adorable,” you said, plopping down next to them on a bean bag chair. You saw the smile on his face and nudged him with your elbow. “See? She likes you. And I think she wants to play.” You looked around the room and saw the toy boxes, filled with various dog and cat toys, but then something else caught your eye. “Frederick?”

“Yes, my love?”

“Hand her back to me and take off your scarf, please.”

He did as he was told. You carefully placed the kitten on the carpet and proceeded to dangle the scarf in front if her. Her eyes went wide again, and then she crouched, wiggled her backside, and pounced. Her little paws batted at the scarf, then she would roll around kick at it with her hind legs.

“It certainly looks like she’s enjoying herself,” Frederick chuckled. “So, what are we going to call her?”

“I was thinking ‘Buttercup”,” you said matter-of-factly.

“I am not the least bit surprised,” he replied, immediately picking up on your reference. He looked at the kitten. “Well, what do you think about that little one?”

“Mew?”

“Your name,” you told her, “Buttercup, do you like it?”

“Mew, mew.” She forgot about the scarf and crawled into your lap, kneading you with her paws.

“I think she likes it.” You threw Frederick a smile.

“Yes, I quite think she does. I have an idea, how about a story? Would you like that Buttercup?”

“Mew.” She replied with a yawn,

“Darling, if you check your bag, I believe you’ll find a book there.”

You checked your purse, and sure enough, in the largest section was a children’s book, one that you instantly recognized from your own childhood.

“If You Give A Mouse A Cookie?”

“It came highly recommended by the lady at the bookstore.”

“It’s perfect, Frederick.” You handed him the book and leaned your head against his knee. As he began to read, Buttercup curled up in your lap and shut her eyes, she was soon fast asleep, purring away. When he finished reading, Frederick caressed your cheek with hand to get your attention.

“So, shall we go find Joanne and make it official?”

“Yes,” you replied, gazing down at Buttercup, “If we don’t take her home today, I think I’ll cry.”

“Then let’s go fill out the paperwork and bring her home.”

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

By My Side (Part 7)

Summary: Jensen hires a team to help watch over the reader after the events of the night before but his suspicions are high and that might not have been the smartest move on his part...

Masterlist

Pairing: Bodyguard!Jensen x reader

Word Count: 3,700ish

Warnings: language, angst, minor violence

A/N: Enjoy!

_________

Four Hours Later

“Hi,” you said, sat on the end of your bed as Jensen quietly walked inside and closed the door after himself. “Is your shoulder-”

“I gave you a direct order. I know you heard me. I know you purposefully ignored me. I-”

“You were losing.”

“It doesn’t matter if I’m losing the fight, if I’m winning it, you get your ass away from the fight.”

“I was okay though. I-”

“Damnit Y/N!” he shouted. You went quiet, Jensen’s chest puffed out, his hands on his hips. “You promised you would listen to me. You promised.”

“I did listen. I-”

“If I can’t trust you to listen to me, then you’re a risk to the both of us. I will stay on as your bodyguard until I can find a suitable replacement.”

“What?”

“I’m giving my notice. We’re done.”

You stared at him and he narrowed his eyes.

“Oh don’t you-”

“I saved your fucking life!” you said, standing and poking him in the chest. 

“I told you to run!” he shouted. You got in his face, brushing your nose against his. “You little...I told-”

“He wasn’t after me,” you said. You backed off as you rubbed the back of your head. “Me he wanted out of the way. He wanted you, didn’t he.”

Jensen bit his bottom lip and looked away but you grabbed his jaw and forced him to look at you.

“Why?”

“Word is out about your bodyguard boyfriend. You have money. I’m ransom money to some people.”

“You’re a shitty liar yourself, Jensen,” you said. You walked away from him and went out to your private balcony overlooking the pool. The door opened after a moment and you crossed your arms, leaning against the railing. A hand ran over your head and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. “You can’t quit. Why did that person want you?”

“Truthfully, they probably wanted the both of us. I was the bigger threat so the guy went after me first. Next time it won’t just be one guy. Whoever is behind all of this will fork over more money for a team. You need your own team to stop that.”

“Why both of us?”

“I’m a soft spot of yours. Next time though they won’t try to take me probably. They’ll kill me outright. I’m too much hassle to try and deal with.”

“Someone wants to hurt me then?”

“I think a few things but I can’t know for sure. I think your life isn’t in danger. Your safety and the circumstances in which you live the rest of your life are but no, this person doesn’t want you dead. The gun didn’t come into play until you were clear of it. This person very much wants to be in my position.”

“My boyfriend?”

“Your protector. I’ll hire a team tomorrow. I know a guy that would be a good fit for your personal guard.”

“I thought I told you that you couldn’t quit.”

“I told you that when I say run, you run. You didn’t listen to me.”

“I’d make the same decision again.”

“Why?”

“Because he was hurting you and I’ve never been that angry in my life. Even the man that killed my father...maybe it’s because this was right in front of me but as long as I had the chance to help, I was going to help. Any bodyguard of mine is going to deal with that so get used to it.”

He leaned back against the railing, staring into the bedroom. He took a deep breath and rubbed his cut shoulder, sliding his hand over to your arm. He unfolded it and took your hand in his, giving it a squeeze.

“I would have liked to have met your father. It sounds like he raised an incredibly brave person like himself.”

“I run if you run too. I hide if you hide,” you said, turning your head. “New rules.”

“Alright. I still want a team. I have a feeling tomorrow night is going to be bad again.”

“I’m supposed to go to Gen’s baby shower,” you said.

“Do you want gun’s around your pregnant best friend?” he asked. You shook your head and he nodded. “They’ll need to reschedule anyways.”

“Why?”

“I need Jared on this with me and he won’t leave his wife and child. They-”

“Jensen. Leave them be. Jared needs to take care of his family. You’ll find a good team. We’ll just...take it one day at a time,” you said. 

“You should get some sleep.” He pulled you gently backwards until you spun around and followed him inside. You crawled under the covers, Jensen dragging a chair you had over to your small desk. 

“You’re not sleeping?”

“I need to work. I’ll sleep in the morning once I have a hire here to take over for me. You go ahead. I’ll keep an eye out.”

“Jensen,” you said as you lay down. He hummed and stopped the side of the bed before going off to get his laptop you assumed. “Make sure whoever you hires knows to keep an eye out for you too.”

“Yes mam,” he said softly. “Get some rest, honey.”

You woke up late the next day, Jensen passed out in his room when you trodded down the hall. There were five guys and a woman sitting at your dining room table, one of them standing as you gave a wave to them.

“Ms. Y/L/N. Good morning. I’m Brock Finley. I am your second in command and this is my team,” he said.

“I have two rules. Don’t drink all of my coffee and dudes, don’t leave the seat up and clean up after yourselves.”

“Yes, Mr. Ackles did go over your...requests earlier this morning,” said Brock.

“Walk with me, Mr. Finely,” you said, curling a finger. You walked him over to the kitchen, Brock reminding you a bit like Jensen when you first met him. “How do you know Jensen?”

“We served at the same time. I was injured on an operation with him, we recovered in the medical hospital in the same ward and grew to know one another.”

“Keep him safe,” you said. “As safe as me. I’m scared for him.”

“Mr. Ackles is in charge of-”

“I know. But keep him safe. Please.”

“We’ll do our best. The team’s been investigating possible leads and working with your manager to comb through any threats you may have received that seemed minor or even infatuations with you. I think Mr. Ackles is onto something with that track.”

“I honestly have no idea what’s going on anymore,” you laughed. “If you need anything from me, let me know. I plan on staying home today. My step-brother will dropping by shortly.”

“In the future please let us know in advance when guests will be…” he said as he saw the look on your face. “I’m going to return to work. There’s a team of eighteen on the premise, nineteen including Mr. Ackles. Don’t be alarmed if you see people outside.”

“Good to know,” you said, shaking your head as he left. “Eighteen? Really Jensen? I’m barely a B list actor on a good day.”

The doorbell rang and you caught the clock, nearly noon as you groaned. You rushed over and pulled it open, Nick standing there with a very confused look on his face and backpack over his shoulders.

“Hey,” you said as you let him inside.

“Nice SWAT team. Something going on?” he asked.

“Let’s go swimming. Better to talk there.”

“Wow,” said Nick twenty minutes later after you’d told him everything that had happened recently.

“Yup. I didn’t call you to come over cause of that though. I was...I’m nervous that with everyone moving out here you’re gonna be alone back home and it...scares me when...Jensen said something about us loving each other even if we don’t like one another and I think he had a point. I don’t want you to go to a dark place again Nick.”

“Y/N, could you slow down for a second? I know you move at a faster pace than most of us but I’m still on the fact you shot a gun last night. The chick that cried that time she thought she hit a squirrel in the road and she didn’t.”

“Oh. Sorry,” you said. You sat on the steps in the shallow end, Nick wading over and joining you. He sat back and played with the water in front of him for a moment before he let out a deep sigh.

“I like you, Y/N. Michael and I both do. We love you.”

“Why are you two so mean all the time then? It’s not teasing. It’s mean.”

“Cause you’re dad’s favorite. We know it. He never hid it from us. When we needed him, he was always with you and your mom. We think of her as our mom now and you our little sister but god we needed him and we were left on our own. You were an easy target to make us feel more in control. Instead of bonding with you, someone who understood exactly what we felt, we took advantage and we never bothered to stop. You were tough and could take it and we’re assholes. I’m sorry. The only reason I’m alive is because of you. You got me help. You still pay for my therapy. Shit I call you in the middle of the night and you pick up every time and just listen to me. You’re always going to be a better person than I am, Y/N. I suck at saying it but I’ve always been grateful to have you as my sister.”

“Could have just said that in the first place,” you said, wiping your face with the back of your hand for a second. “Come out here, Nick. You’d put my mind at rest.”

“I was never coming,” he said with a smile. “I sort of have a place already lined up back home with a roommate.”

“Yeah but I’m sure…” you said, catching the look on his face. “Oh. A roommate. Oh. Oh.”

“Yeah, hi, I’m bi in case you weren’t aware,” he chuckled. “Michael’s known since we were teenagers but I swore him to secrecy.”

“If we’re gonna have secrets, can we at least just keep them from the parents from now on?” you asked.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” said Nick. “Seriously don’t know you how didn’t catch on that I hang out with my best friend like all the time. Like all the time. And I sleep at his apartment all the-”

“I get it,” you said, Nick smiling. “He good to you?”

“Yeah. You don’t have to worry so much. You’re not the only one watching out for me,” he said. “But you though...what are you involved in?”

“I don’t know,” you said. “Last night got way too close for...say that again.”

“What are you involved in?” he asked. 

“Nick, can you do me a favor, like a monumentally huge favor and not tell anyone else about what I said. This is gonna be over tonight anyways.”

“What’s going on?” he asked as you stood.

“I know who wants to kidnap me.”

“Who?”

“My old manager of course. Can you keep everybody away from here the rest of the day? I have a feeling this is going to be messy.”

“She has a point,” said Jensen, half dressed ten minutes later as you spoke to him and Brock, the floor still a bit wet from where Nick had walked out the front door to head back to the hotel. “She did ruin his career.”

“But why escalate?”

“He wants money and his career back...and she is smarter than both of us put together,” said Jensen as it clicked for him.

“You got it?” you asked as he nodded.

“Involved Inn. It’s the firm your manager used to work with. It’s the firm your current manager works with.”

“Inside man,” said Brock. “How’d he know you’d hire him?”

“He knows the kind of person I like to work with and he was smart enough to research Jensen and know that a military background wouldn’t hurt.”

“Oh fuck,” said Jensen, his face going white.

“What?” you asked. He swallowed as he looked around, putting his hand on his holster and pulling out his gun. He undid the clip and showed you that it was empty. “Don’t you need bullets in that?”

“There were bullets,” said Jensen, grabbing your hand and pulling you away from Brock. “Finely Associates. They’re hooked up with Involved Inn. Very, very closely involved.”

“You chose the absolute worst possible group of people to hire you know,” said Brock. Jensen walked backwards with you into the living area, the both of you catching sight of the various guards around. “Two against eighteen is not very good odds.”

“Let me talk to your boss, we can-” you said.

“Kid was unknowingly in on it. Didn’t think his old mentor would screw him over like that,” said Brock. “So here’s how it goes. We-“

“This doesn’t add up. People don’t admit to shit in real life like that. No one’s forcing you to say a thing. This is a paycheck for you. No, something else is going on. You just want us to think it was my old manager, don’t you?” you said. Brock tilted his chin up and you crossed your arms. “You knew Jensen would hire your team and we’d make a connection. So here’s how it really goes. I guarantee I got more money than whatever you’re being paid. You drop this little charade, I pay you, and we get down to the issue of who hired you.”

“Mr. Ackles hired us.”

“You know what I mean. Who-”

“Mr. Ack-”

“I didn’t hire you to do this,” said Jensen. “I said...you got a second phone call, didn’t you. One saying you wanted to perform a live test, didn’t you.”

Brock was silent and Jensen made a face. 

“Tell me the truth or you’re all fired and being brought up on charges immediately,” said Jensen. Brock looked nervous for the first time and you pouted. 

“You said-”

“Dammit, Finley. You’re all fired. Leave. Now.”

“But sir you said-”

“I hired you to protect her, not play games. All of you, get the fuck out.”

Brock nodded and the team all left, Jensen getting in Brock’s face.

“You are always so gullible. Always. It’s what landed your ass in that hospital. You never verify information. Just go in head first. I-” said Jensen, Brock’s jaw clenching.

“At least my whole unit wasn’t corrupt behind my back! At least I didn’t wind up living in a hole in the ground for weeks because I was too stupid to see-”

“Get the fuck out of my house.” Jensen’s whole body was tense as Brock left, his hands clenched by his sides. The house was eerily still, the only sound was Jensen’s harsh breathing.

After a moment he calmed and turned around, looking you up and down.

“I’m sorry. I thought Brock was smarter than falling for a fake phone call.”

“What exactly just happened?” you asked.

“Whoever wants you set up a fake drill, a test of sorts. Normally we would run one with the participants knowledge or give them a heads up in order to find vulnerabilities in a protection detail. What just happened was to mess with you and for this guy to say he’s smarter than us. It scares me because he probably is and he’s miles ahead of us. I don’t know how to keep you safe by myself, Y/N and I sure as shit don’t know who I can trust.”

“Your old unit, the good ones, call them. They’ll help you.”

“They’re all over the country.”

“You call them and I will get them out here. I will give them whatever they want. Private jets are a thing you know.”

“Y/N-”

“We need help. Let’s get help.”

“I’m sorry I’m so horrible at my job.”

“If you were horrible at your job I’d be in some basement right now. We’ll get through this and then just you and me can go on a trip away, just the two of us,” you said. He looked down and you padded over, taking his hand. “Okay?”

“I can’t stop everything,” he said. “This guy is smarter than anyone I’ve dealt with before, way smarter.”

“Then we call in for backup. We got this. I promise.”

Later That Evening

“Jared,” you said as he walked in the front door with a hum. “Jared Padalecki. What the hell are you-”

“Don’t even start with me,” he said, shutting the door after himself. You opened your mouth but he simply adjusted the bag over his shoulder. “Gen and Tom are safe and you need all hands on deck and frankly I was coming whether you liked it or not.”

“Jared-” you said as he walked past and into the living room. 

“I’m here. Get over it,” he said before putting on a smile. “Hey guys. I swear you got uglier, Benny.”

“Must be from looking at you,” said Benny before he stood and gave Jared a hug. You hung back at the kitchen island, quietly listening to the eight of them talk and catch up before Jensen was standing and going over what had happened lately. You got a bit lost once they started talking in technical terms but suddenly they were breaking and everybody was grabbing their bags.

“How you holding up?” asked Jensen when he took a seat beside you.

“Nervous,” you said. “Tonight’s gonna be bad, isn’t it.”

“Hopefully not,” said Jensen as a redheaded woman went over to your fridge and grabbed a can of beer. “Y/N, this is Charlie. She was in charge of tech and surveillance for us back in the day. She works for google now, right?”

“That’s so three jobs ago,” she said with a smile. “She’s cute.”

“Thanks,” you said, Jensen rolling his eyes. “Oh, you’re…”

“Jensen ever bores you, give me a call,” she said with a wink. You swallowed and she laughed, Jensen chuckling to himself. “I’m joking. If I were into dudes I probably would be all over that myself.”

“You are not what I was expecting,” you said.

“Oh just cause we did secret stuff didn’t mean we were all sir yes sir.”

“Charlie was picked straight out of college for her...unique compter skills we’ll call it. If I could train this flailing hot mess, you’ll be just fine, honey. Charlie’s going to stay here with Ash as an attempted diversion. She’ll wear your clothes, Ash’ll wear mine. They’ll put on some wigs, we’ll see how that goes tonight.”

“Where are we going?”

“So this is an interesting hiding spot,” you said, squatted down in your next door neighbors kitchen twenty minutes later. “Thanks again Doug, I really appreciate it, even if I don’t get what’s going on yet.”

“It’s no problem, kid. The girls are on the road with their mother for the week so perfect timing,” he said. Jensen paced back and forth by the window in the dark house, not that you had much of a view of your own from over there. “Mind if I ask why you two trust me of all people?”

“Because you were halfway through kicking that paparazzi’s ass by the time I even showed up,” said Jensen, glancing over his shoulder. “You don’t want someone hurting your kids. It’s not a big leap to you keeping a watchful eye on your young neighbor just in case.”

“What are you expecting to learn from all this though. Aren’t you just going to get the team at best and not the guy?” asked Doug.

“Team could lead us to answers.”

“You know that won’t work. You’re trying to keep your head above water at this point, aren’t you,” he said.

“Yeah, Doug, I am,” said Jensen, snapping back quickly. “You have any genius ideas I’d love to hear them.”

“Y/N, when your show starts back up, would you mind letting the girls have a tour of set? They love it,” said Doug.

“Of course. If I’m still around that is,” you said. He smiled and glanced at his computer. “What?”

“I’m about to use up a huge favor that’s owed me. Glad I held onto it all these years,” he said. He took a seat behind his laptop and took out his phone.

“What are you doing?” asked Jensen.

“I’m going to ask for surveillance from last night, see if we can’t backtrack where that intruder originally came from.”

“You can do that?” you asked.

“It’s not easy but yeah, I can do that. I still have a few friends in the business. Let’s see if we can get you kids a break.”

_______

A/N: Read Part 8 here!

[fukurodaze]

some days

pairing: post-timeskip! oikawa tooru x fem!reader genre: angst wc: 2.4k warnings: cursing, stress, anxiety, homesickness, insecurity requested by @dasighosamu​ <3: “oikawa video chatting regularly with his girlfriend that somehow convinced him they’re okay [...]”

a/n: i.. am.. so so so sorry this took so long... many of the negative feelings here are taken from my own personal experiences as well, so i’m very sorry if this seems a bit impersonal for some people, but i tried to make it feel as y/n-able as possible! enjoy!

special thanks to nat @natszoo​ for beta reading! love u :(

LISTEN TO: blue - taeyeon; through the night - iu

you feel it in your bones. you feel it rumble and twist and turn. some days you feel it more. some days you feel it less. you know what it is today. 

it’s so empty, you think, movements like a crack of sound in silence. you had woken up in the afternoon today, the room still dark yet covers already warm. oh, you feel disgusting.

the least you do is open the curtains, hoping to squeeze in some sunlight for the day you had almost missed. you remember, though, to wake up for today, because it’s saturday. you look forward to saturdays, actually, because it has in store one constant that you hold onto - facetiming your boyfriend, oikawa tooru, at 7pm.

it used to be everyday that you facetimed him, until careers advanced and work took up more and more space in lives. still, you would always watch his matches when they were televised (it was a hassle sometimes, though, to get through to argentinian television channels, but it was worth it) and he would text you good morning and goodnight in your timezone most days (it slips his mind sometimes, but you could never blame him; you like the texts anyways). and it’s okay, really, it’s okay that you don’t get to see him that often. it’s just that work gets a bit harsh sometimes and you live alone and most of your friends live quite a bit far from you and you feel like you’ve cried to them about tooru way too many times and-

okay, you are not okay. but you hold on. you try to hold on.

you get yourself an instant meal in the fridge, feeling well into the shitty weekend when you see the stack of dirty dishes in the sink. you wash them anyways, thinking that it might be a way for you to feel a little bit better. you don’t want to be irritable when you’re with tooru, because then he’ll just worry. he already worries enough about himself - the least you could do is smile. right?

it’s what you tell yourself as you slap on some skincare, hoping that the various products containing tea tree essence and papaya are enough to mask the layer of sleepless nights and early mornings on your face. it’s not like you’re afraid of him seeing you in your dejected state; it’s more like you wouldn’t want the only time you spend with him this week be a negative memory.

now, you settle on the carpeted floor of the living room, laptop placed on the coffee table between the couch and the tv you never really use anymore. you remember when tooru had bought you this apartment right before an off-season with promises of him visiting in the summer. he even insisted on that nice tv screen for netflix nights. 

but alone, you prefer a laptop; so you’re thinking of selling it, yet you don’t want to pass up on the chance that tooru might come back one summer.

eventually, the facetime on your laptop sounds its ringtone, and a smile grows on your face as quickly as you pick up the video call. 

"wait- can- can you hear me well?”

you purse your lips, your tired eyes seemingly so much more eager to stay open. you say, “yeah, i can hear you well. can you?”

he hums, and there’s a loving silence that ensues. you don’t really know what to do with your insides feeling all warm again, so you fold your legs to your chest and let out a light laugh. it’s him.

“wow,” you mumble through chuckles, “hi, tooru.”

“i missed you, pretty girl,” he coos. you see how tooru has his back against his headboard, one arm folded behind his head and the other holding his phone up. it’s seven in the morning there, you reckon, and he looks like he’d just showered. 

“i missed you too. just showered?”

your boyfriend nods, “woke up later than usual today, but it’s, like, hot outside even at six in the morning. or maybe i just sweat too much.”

you giggle, “here, it’s so cold already. i can’t even go anywhere without a sweater - i even sleep with socks these days.”

“are you sure your heater’s doing fine?”

“my heater’s almost on its highest setting. i’ve just been getting so cold lately? maybe i just hate winter...” you trail off as you hear your own stomach grumble. still hungry...? you mutter to yourself, standing up to get a little snack for yourself, “tooru, i’m getting a snack. just keep talking, though, i can hear you.”

tooru’s smile falters a bit when he hears of you getting cold. he knows you’ve never really minded winter, using the season as an opportunity to stack up on cozy clothing and coats. hell, he had heard you say once, during one autumn, that you were so excited for winter because “you could finally wear the hoodies and sweaters since you felt too warm for them even during autumn and spring.” back then, tooru had told you that you were just too warm of a person. 

but maybe he’s just thinking too much into it. he hasn’t been to japan in a long time, anyways. maybe it really is that cold.

you come back with some toast and a glass of water. a crisp, warm bite into the food makes you feel relieved. you tuck your hair behind your ears, putting your focus back on tooru. “so, how’s everything?”

“everything... is... a lot.” tooru makes his way off of the bed, telling you, “seeing you eat just makes me hungry, too. lemme get some food.” he brings his phone with him to the kitchen, propping it against a vase on his dining table, giving you a perfect view of the kitchen. 

“welcome to my cooking show!” he exclaims as he lets go of the phone. it falls immediately, of course, but he takes care in propping it against some more items. it works somehow.

“i just recently perfected my egg poaching technique,” tooru smirks as he takes two eggs from the fridge, “it’s kind of flawless, not gonna lie.”

“can i see?” 

he sets the eggs down on the countertop, making his way to his phone before pausing, “erm, due to camera placement issues and a shortage of hands, i am unable to give you a full view of my absolute skill. is that okay, baby?”

you nod, your lip protruding slightly in a quiet pout. tooru’s pointed it out before, but it seems like every time he calls you baby your body automatically responds with a little pout. he looks at you with calm eyes, “cute.”

as he makes his eggs, you let him go on about the people around his neighbourhood, the results of the ca san juan tryouts from last week, his new team members, and one restaurant he’s found around town. he tells you, “their food is just so good. i’ll take you there someday.”

your cheeks raise slightly at his last statement, “really? tell me more about it.”

“well, it’s a bit expensive, but so worth it. they sell japanese stuff, actually, and i seriously kid you not, it tastes exactly like food from home.”

home, huh? 

“maybe when i visit one day i can bring you some food from home, too.”

somehow, the mention of home stings a little bit tonight.

 it’s an off-day, off-night, off-week, you’ve told yourself, and now that the week is ending with a call from your boyfriend, you were positive that it was going to end on a high. here, you stand corrected, with your throat getting all tied up threatening hot tears from the corners of your eyes. you’ve made it this far in the week, why must you cry in front of tooru, of all people? 

you take a long gulp from your glass of water in an attempt to blink back your tears. you’re glad that tooru’s back is facing the camera as he takes out a plate to put his eggs on. 

you quiet down intensely, afraid that any word out of your mouth will come out as a choked sob. of course, tooru notices, whipping his head around with a faltering smile.

“y/n, are you alright-”

“um, tooru, i think my laptop’s running out of battery, so i’ll reconnect the call from my phone instead, yeah?”

tooru nods, and you hastily stand up, clicking blindly at what you thought was the red hang-up button. your legs carry you to the kitchen, a place where tooru can still hear you even after the both of you thought you had hung up, to get another glass of water. 

but your arms don’t go so far as to reach for the tap, and instead, they only hold onto the edge of the countertop, trembling lightly against the cold marble. 

“shit,” you curse, head hanging as tears flow down your cheeks in warm waterfalls with your breath unsteady, your neck heating up. you see how some teardrops make little puddles on the shiny countertop, and some are swept away when your hand flies over to rid them, swiping in quick motions, angry that your body betrayed you by crying.

“stop crying, goddamnit.” you mutter, “it’s going to be so obvious, and tooru’s just going to worry, and he’ll just find it a hassle to stay with you, and-” you can’t even continue your spoken train of thought when you choke on your own words, your legs not even enough to support you up. 

“what a shitty week...” you slide down to the floor, trying to steady your breath. you tell yourself to hurry up with this damned cry, as you told him you were going to call him again on your phone. maybe you could say it was the wifi. 

you look up, wondering why, why do i feel like this?

is it because you just miss him? is work just getting hectic? should you be going out more? but it’s cold... nothing’s been working out lately. it’s just become doubts on top of doubts and you don’t know where to stop.

on the other hand, tooru’s freezing up. he can still hear your sniffles from afar, and as he stares at the warm plate of poached eggs on toast, he wonders if it would be okay to call out to you. 

it’s not like this is the first time he’s ever seen you cry, because you two have seen each other in more ways than one. still, tooru feels his heart crumble at the fact that he had had absolutely no clue as to what you had been feeling all this time, whether it be just a week, a few days, or a few hours. he wants to call out to you, hug you tight, wipe your tears, do something to make you feel better. 

but tooru doesn’t really know how to make his way through this, seeing as the distance is too far for any physical comfort. he’s learned he’s not as good with comforting words as he is with flirting, but now that he doesn’t flirt with anyone other than you, he doesn’t know if he even is good with words at all. he thinks, if you were to be okay with him reaching out to you, why were you choking back your tears? why were you so quick to hide what you felt? why do you not want him to worry about you the same way you worry about him?

tooru likes to think things through, especially when he’s never felt so unprepared with you before, as he’d been used to resorting to physical comfort in the past. but in this moment, through all the doubts and negative thoughts, his mouth moves faster than his brain.

“y/n, i’m still here.”

in this moment, your breath hitches and you make the dreaded way back to your laptop, your eyes swollen and cheeks glossy. 

“y-you heard everything?” 

your boyfriend nods, “do... do you want to talk about it?”

you shrug, swallowing slowly. “i don’t know how to talk about it, really,” a shallow laugh falls from your lips, “some days- this week- it’s just not... it’s been low, for me.”

tooru’s chin leans patiently against his forearms, eyes focused on you. 

“oh god. i haven’t cried in months,” you exhale, “and it just happened to be in front of you. i probably look ugly, or something.”

your boyfriend shakes his head, “you and ugly are words that simply do not go together.”

“you can keep crying, if you want. i’ll be here for you.” he affirms, “we take care of each other at our lows, remember? no matter the distance.”

you sniffle a bit more, your sweater sleeve damp from your tears. his words are new, but it makes you feel much less alone. 

the call fades into you attempting to steady your breathing once more, and tooru reassuring you left and right. maybe it does feel nice, you begin to think, to have someone there with you. to know that they’ll care for you as much as you’ll care for them.

in the midst of your thoughts, tooru calls out, “y/n?”

you hum in response, and he continues, “i wasn’t supposed to tell you this, since it’s not final, but there’s a possibility that i’ve been selected to play for the argentinian national team in the olympics next year. in tokyo.”

you do a double take at him. “wait, you... in japan...?”

he loves seeing you smile like that. “i was called in a meeting yesterday. they were pretty positive about me being a starting setter, but, again, it’s not final.”

your shoulders drop a bit, “but there’s always a chance, right?”

“well, ‘not final’ is just their way of saying ‘don’t tell anyone yet’. and how could i not tell you?”

you giggle a little, “maybe if you come over i might have some use for this big ass tv you bought for me.”

tooru laughs, “i’m coming home, y/n.”

here comes your second wave of tears.

[writingsfromhome]

Bad Timing II

A/N: I’m just about finished the whole series and I’m excited for you to read this! <3 Sorry for the late upload, I started a new semester and had zero time to write but I worked on this all weekend. I’m curious to know if your opinions on Harry change after this part, the next part’s going to be packed but this is an in-between. Thanks as always for reading <333

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

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

I lay awake in bed, staring at the blank ceiling before my phone’s constant buzzing forces me up. A couple voicemails, and a single text from Harry: GM, call me if you need anything.

I stare at it longer than I should, the audacity to think we were fine enough to text me so casually. But there was some small solace in knowing he took the extra step to let me know. Ugh; my head injury was more serious than the medic diagnosed. I throw my phone on the bed and head downstairs where I’m surprised to see him gone. It was only 8am and I needed a coffee, otherwise I would not make it through the day. When I see the pot of coffee half full, I stop in my tracks. Harry made coffee before he left. I touch the pot and it’s still warm, he couldn’t have left that long ago.

I open the dishwasher that I’d loaded last night only to find it empty. I stand straight, hand on my hips--had he unloaded the dishes too? How did I not wake up to the noise? How did he even know where everything went?!

Maybe he wasn’t such a dense detective after all, the thought makes me smile. I look around the room and notice he’d tidied up from last night, and folded everything away on the couch he slept on. I take my coffee to the couch and without thinking, hug the pillow to my face and inhale. The strong scent of his aftershave sends a sharp and painful jolt to my memories. What the hell was I doing?

I drop the pillow and settle on my kitchen table, responding to some emails while I make a game plan for the day, shaking off the claustrophobic feeling I got thinking about going back to work. I finish the last of the coffee and start moving, shower, dress appropriately, pack my laptop...I just had to keep busy so I wouldn’t have time to think about it.

***

“We’re here for you, whatever you need,” the regional manager lets me know during the meeting. I’d learned post-trauma policies the bank had. I was sorry to know them, I really just wanted to put the whole thing behind me. I tell her that. “Unfortunately, it’s not that simple. We do require you to go to at least one counseling session, your employees have got to go to a group meet with a licensed therapist so you can all discuss this and get over the awful event.”

“I see,” I chew my lower lip. I didn’t want to talk to anyone about the way I jumped at every little thing and stared down each and every stranger on the tube on my way in today. I felt crazy. Maybe I did need a shrink. “I’ll include that in the memo I guess. Thanks again for all the support and the resources-”

“That’s my job, our job.” She motions to the man sitting beside her who hadn’t actually said much the whole time. We talk for a little while longer, and by the time they leave I’m exhausted. But I make the trek to the hospital to visit Cole like I told him I would.

***

The weekend flies by: I take the train to visit my dad up north and let him take care of me like I was a kid again. It was nice to unwind, I thought, I should visit my dad more often.

But come Monday, I’m back in my pantsuit ready to get on with my life. I try not to think about Thursday too hard but it’s difficult when first thing that morning, a therapist shows up for a group session. Most of my employees look anxious to be here, but I watch their shoulders relax as they discuss what happened. Watching everyone bond brings a lightness to the heaviness that sat in my chest: it was good.

“Ms. Y/L/N? When can we schedule a one-on-one?” The therapist stops me at the end of the session.

“I think this session helped a lot,” I put on a big smile. “I don’t think that will be necessary.”

She smiles politely, as if she expected this, “It’s a requirement for back-to-work. I have time right now if you’d like, I’m not seeing another employee until lunch.”

“Um,” I look to where everyone mingles, comforting each other and breaking off into groups. If I had to talk about it in order to work, and work is the only thing to help me get my mind off of it...I guess I had no choice. “Let’s do it now.”

But an hour later and I’ve mostly just talked her ear off about Harry showing up, how awful my luck was that he would be the lead detective on the case, how much damage he’d done to me. How he appeared on one of the worst days of my life again.

“It’s almost a sign,” I ramble. “Like...what are the odds?!”

“Do you still have feelings for him?” She asks, looking like she knew the answer.

“No,” I scoff. “I hate him. He broke my trust!” And my heart.

“Those are feelings,” she says wisely. 

“Well sure, yeah, I have negative feelings towards him. Why wouldn’t I?”

She pauses, a very pregnant pause. “It’s been almost 4 years right? Usually, those feelings start to...dissolve into a more neutral ground when you...receive closure. You take time to grieve, to sit in the wound in your heart, but then you pick yourself up and try to heal. It seems like you’ve just told yourself you were healed and got on.”

“I am healed,” I insist.

“Just like you started this sessions by letting me know you were over the trauma that happened to you a few days ago?” She asks. I avoid her gaze. “When I asked about Thursday, you said you were ‘over it’ and you just wanted to focus on work but you’re not giving yourself closure. Likewise, with Harry. You haven’t found closure even after all these years.”

I stare at her, she’d sliced right into a vulnerable part of me--I’d led her there, I realise. It was something I knew all along, I just didn’t want to point at it alone.

“You’re right...I feel like I never got closure.” I confess. “How? I just want to know h-how he could’ve left me for another woman after all those years together--as lovers and as friends? He was there when mum...he was there through hell. And then he put me through hell.”

“I’d like to believe Harry showing up on a...hellish day is a sign like you say. But maybe a sign you need closure. Talk to him, ask him what you need to know in order to close that chapter of your life.”

I exhale, the idea of it making me feel claustrophobic. She wanted me to open myself up to him again and invite him to hurt my feelings? I try to ask her more but she looks at her watch. We’d gone over.

I thank her and walk out with a weight on my back that feels bigger than the one I went in with. I thought therapy was supposed to make me feel lighter.

***

I’m hiding behind my desk as the footsteps get closer and closer to the door. I clutch the knife in my hand and-

“Y/N!”

I jump up out of sleep, and open my eyes to my office. I stare at the table in front of me where the papers I used as a pillow are rumpled.

“Y/N? You have a call on-”

“Adam,” I look at my assistant. He’d been really quiet today and I was worried about him but there was so much to catch up on I hadn’t had the chance to talk to him. “Sorry I...haven’t been sleeping well.”

“I’m sorry Y/N...the detective’s on the line he insisted he talk-”

I roll my eyes and answer the phone, motioning for Adam I’d be okay. He hesitates at the door before closing it tightly behind him.

“Y/N?” Harry’s breathless voice answers irritably on the other line.

“Harry? Why are you calling me at work?” I ask, still sleepy from the nap. Is this about the case?”

“No it’s about your things at the station, it was processed--we couldn’t find anything useful so we’re returning this batch. And I think some of it belongs to your staff? Did you want to pick it up or should I drop it off to yo-”

“I’ll pick it up,” I wanted to make it clear that Harry in my space wasn’t going to be a normal thing. “I’ll head out in a bit, can I just collect it at reception?”

“They’ll buzz you through to me, I’ve gotta go-”

“Just leave it with reception...” I say to dead air. He’d already hung up. Damn.

***

“I’m here for some things, it was taken for evidence?” I say to the woman at reception.

“You’ll have to be more specific love,” she raises an eyebrow. “A lot happens here.”

“The bank rob-”

“Ah, Harry’s case. I’ll buzz you through-”

“No I thought maybe I could collect it here uh-” I look for a nameplate. “Serena, listen, I’m in a rush so is there any way for you to get it-”

The phone ringing cuts me off. She holds up her finger and I stand tapping my foot. She rolls her eyes at whoever was on the other line, motions that they were chatty and points to the glass doors. I sigh, I guess I was seeing Harry. I think about my therapist and cringe, I couldn’t.

When I walk in, I scan the room for Harry but I don’t spot him anywhere. I walk awkwardly until someone asks if they could help but they point to his desk and tell me I could wait there.

“I’m actually here to pick up some evidence, couldn’t you just give it to me?”

“He’s the lead officer, he’s got to sign off--”

“Fine,” I hated the bloody bureaucracy around here. I go to where he points and sit in Harry’s chair, ignoring the looks from people around me. I toy with the pen and doodle on an empty paper. Y/N was here I write and smile, it was juvenile.

“Y/N! Sorry! Nobody told me you were here.” Harry shows up a few minutes later. He opens the bottom drawer and takes out a nondescript cardboard box. If I knew if was down there I would’ve left a long time ago. “Just need you to sign this.”

“Okay,” I sign where he points and reach for the box. “I’ll grab that, thank you.”

“Can I walk you out?” He fiddles with his phone.

“Will you take no for an answer?”

“Nope,” he’s all teeth when he smiles. I sigh and walk in front of him. It’s weirdly silent but I notice he was typing on his phone when I look over.

“Well...g’night then.” I say at the door but he pushes it open and walks out with me.

He finally puts his phone away and asks. “Are you alright? Have you gone back to work?”

“Yeah,” I chew at my bottom lip, nervous. “We’re really sticking together, trying to get through it.”

“That’s good. That’s how it should be.” He waits a beat. “We’ve been trying to catch the robbers, they hit up another bank so it’s hell inside. That’s why I was so busy.”

“Another?” My heart plummets, and my palms feel slick.

“Yeah but we’re working as fast as we can. So...uh, did you need anything from me before you go?”

“I...” I think about the therapist’s words and chew my lower lip. I try to work up the courage. Fuck it, I realise. I had nothing to lose. “I do...actually.”

“Oh,” he looks surprised. “Good, what’s that?”

“I want to talk, about us. I...I need like, closure Harry. I think I deserve an explanation about...” I trail off as I notice him staring at me blankly. “What?”

His blank expression settles into confusion. “What’s more to explain Y/N. I’ve told you everything, I-I dunno. I thought one day we could get together like old friends, but it’s obvious you’re still upset with everything and I don’t know what more I can say? I said everything in that letter but if-”

“The letter?” I ask sharply, cutting off his chatter.

“Yeah, the one I wrote you after we...after you moved out?” When I don’t react he continues: “I dropped it off at your sister’s the week after you cleaned out your things? You didn’t...read it?” He looks hurt, if that was possible all these years later.

“I...did. Obviously I just...had some questions.” My heart races; what letter? He wrote me a letter?

“So what do you want to ask?” He looks at me curiously, concern etched in his brows. “I would like to talk actually-”

“Now’s not a good time,” I cut him off again. I had to know about this letter first. I can’t believe I walked into this blind. “I’ve actually had a long day, this is--we can do this another time, okay? Thanks for...walking me out.”

***

The first thing I do when I get home is call my sister. I can sniff her guilt a whole country away.

“Y/N, you were heartbroken! Y-you didn’t need to have it broken all over again reading his stupid letter! I was looking out for you!”

“That wasn’t your call!” I raise my voice. “I’ve been...I haven’t had closure all this time! I thought he didn’t even care enough to try to explain it to me and you knew he sent a letter this whole time?”

“Well when he showed up to the flat I wasn’t about to-”

“When did he come to the flat?” I wanted to strangle my sisters and her protective instincts.

“After you moved your things out. He wanted to see you and I knew you were a mess, I told him you never wanted to speak to him. I was looking out for you babe I-I didn’t even realise I was keeping you from closure I just...I didn’t want you hurting. Don’t be mad.”

I swallow the lump in my throat, she was right. It was Harry who hurt me, and I shouldn’t take it out on her. “I know. I know. I’m sorry for yelling I just-I wish I could read that letter.”

“I’m sorry,” she sniffs. “I should’ve given it to you once you moved out...I still have it though. I think I tucked it into my old yearbook. D’you want me to...”

“Mail it? Yes, as soon as possible please. I need to know what he wrote.”

“What if you just get hurt all over again?” she asks.

“I’ve been hurting, I don’t think his outdated explanation will hurt any more. Just please mail it the first chance you get okay?”

I was so close to it, I think. I had to get that letter. I needed closure. I deserved it. And just knowing I could get it, it’s almost like I was waking up in a dark tunnel I hadn’t realised I was in this whole time. I knew where I was, and I could see light on the horizon.

H POV:

The last time I had a full night’s sleep was on Y/N’s couch, this case was a lot bigger than we thought. It wasn’t just a robbery at one branch, these same people have hit up two other places in the last few days and they were good. The worst part was they weren’t afraid to use a gun.

“Chief,” one of the constables comes up to my desk, where I’d been staring at footage for the last hour. “There’s been um, there’s a problem-”

“Spit it out,” I say, eyes still on the screen.

“The evidence you released on Monday...blokes down in evidence can’t find the SIM from the scene...we think they accidentally left it with that batch.”

I look up from my screen and I can practically see the sweat breaking out on his brow as I stare. If that was important evidence, we’d misplaced it at the height of an investigation. My arse would be on the line too--it was my name on the authorization letter.

“Don’t panic until we’re sure it’s not with the evidence we gave out,” I get up and put my hand on his shoulder. “I’m looking into it right now, don’t let anybody know it’s happened.”

I grab my jacket from my chair and root in the pocket for my phone but Y/N’s number goes to voicemail. I curse. I look at the time, it was 6 already. I had a feeling she might kill me but I would have to drive to her place, I hoped she didn’t leave the evidence at work...after all I did tell her to return it to her employees...I have the brief thought of asking her in the morning but I remember my arse on the line and walk quicker.

“Woah, someone’s in a hurry,” Detective Cole comments as I rush past her. “Not even a hello.”

“Sorry,” I flash her a smile. “Urgent!”

“Need any help?”

I pause long enough to turn around and answer. “Normally I would say yes but I’ve got to do this.”

“Don’t let me keep ya,” she smiles, I notice Serena eyeing the both of us suspiciously as she packs up for the day. She was always trying to convince me to ask her on a date, but I was done with dating coworkers after I made the mistake of marrying one and breaking up quickly thereafter in the past. I’d changed careers quickly after that.

Y/N’s POV:

“Oh my god,” I stop in the middle of my bedroom as my sister reveals her big news over Facetime, an ultrasound held up to the camera. “Oh my god!”

“I know!” She squeals.

“I-I-you’re pregnant!” I was shocked, I didn’t even know my sister was trying for a third kid. “You better give me a bloody niece this time!”

My sister laughs, one hand on her belly. I should’ve known, I realise, she’d been cryptic the last few times we talked, dropping clue, but I’d been so wrapped up in other things I didn’t pick up on them. “It wasn’t even planned but Y/N, it feels right. The boys are stoked--they want a sister too.”

“I am so happy for you and Stu,” I let out a whoop. “I wish I could hug you! I’m going to book some time next month and come see you--this is big! Did you tell dad?”

“Not yet, don’t say anything--oh,” a cry bursts out from somewhere on her end. She rolls her eyes and tells me she would call me back. But I get a text to say there was an accident with a toy truck and a jug of OJ, she would call me back later in the evening when everything was settled.

I throw my phone down on my bed and sit on the edge in my robe, I’d just come out of the shower to my sister’s call. I was over the moon for her, but it was times like these I felt like an awful person. Because as I think about her happy news, I put my hand to my own belly and imagine what it would’ve been like to be the one calling family with good news. The familiar ache in my chest comes back, once upon a time I did have good news for a short period of time.

It was a few months before Harry and I split, I’d skipped a period and went immediately to the pharmacy. I’d decided to wait for a week before I would tell Harry because he was stressed from work. He was always stressed at that job, but I wanted it to be perfect. I’d spent the whole week stopping by nursery stores, browsing baby books, even buying a few onesies and the cutest booties I couldn’t put down. I picture the baby--mine and Harry’s, wearing them.

But the day I’d planned to tell him, I’d woken up and knew instantly something was wrong. I never told him, I fought with him that day instead...I couldn’t even remember over what. I held the awful burden on my own, packed the future I couldn’t have into a little box and shoved it under the bed. A few months later, Harry and I were over. That future was as fragile as the paper-thin wings of a butterfly, one that would never take flight.

I do what I did on my darkest days, I root underneath my bed and pull out the box.

I still had it; it was morbid, holding on to a future that was deader than dead. But I hold it in my lap, and run my hands over each piece of clothing. I imagine just for a moment what I could have had, they would’ve been 3 and I would’ve been a mum. My chest tightens, and I squeeze the items closer.

H’s POV:

By the time I get to Y/N’s, I’d stress-sang so many 90s hits that most of my nervous energy had streamed out the car window. I gather myself, clear my hoarse throat, and knock; ready to be beheaded. When there’s no answer, my nerves return. I knock louder, and try to peer through the frosty window.

“Harry?” Y/N opens the door in a flourish, looking fresh from a shower. I try to block the visuals that spring to mind, my mind blanking as I try to remember what I had to say. “Hello? Harry? Why are you here?”

“Uhm,” I shake my head. “Urgent business--the evidence I gave you on Monday, please tell me you still have it?”

Her eyebrows furrow, “You’re knocking on my door at nearly 7 for evidence you returned to me?”

“It’s urgent,” I look around out of habit. “Y/N, we may have accidentally given you something with the evidence we were meant to keep--please I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important. I’m not messing with you, this is my head on the chopping block--I need to know if you have it.”

“For fuck’s sake Harry,” she opens the door wider. “Just...come in.”

“You have it?” I step in eagerly and close the door behind me, basking in the warmth inside. It was a chilly spring evening.

“I haven’t touched it since I brought it home, I threw it somewhere in my room.”

“Didn’t it...have your employees’ personal items in it?” I ask cautiously.

“It’s not like they’re eager to have reminders of that day!” she snaps and I back down. She turns in a flourish of her robes and walks upstairs. She doesn’t say anything so I follow her up, drinking in every detail I can about her new life as we pass through.

She’s headed into her bedroom when her phone buzzes. I recognize her sister from the contact photo that takes up the screen. She glances at me, and back at the phone, making a decision.

“It’s beside the dresser, don’t make a sound or my sister will come here in record time to rip your head off.”

“I take it she doesn’t like me,” I try to joke.

“She’s not the only Y/L/N sister that doesn’t like you,” she puts a finger to her mouth and takes the call into the other room.

Maybe I should stop cracking jokes with Y/N, I think. It was clear she still hadn’t forgiven me. I was surprised she still held on as vehemently all these years later.

I head into her bedroom, a tidy and plain room. Compared to what I’d seen of her main floor, her bedroom looked like it belonged in a hotel. I spot the box almost immediately resting between a laundry hamper and her dresser. I pick it up but on the way back, the box on her bed catches my attention. The lid is half on, and I know I shouldn’t but something almost possesses my hand to nudge the lid aside. I stare and what’s inside the box sends me reeling; like I was seasick, but with both feet firmly on the ground. The feeling punches me directly into a past I’d abandoned. A future I abandoned too.

When Y/N finds me a few minutes later, I’m holding the shoes from the box in my hands. She stops beside me. I look to her and her face is frozen in fear, before it shuts down into anger--no, fury.

“What the fuck are you doing going through that?” she snatches the shoes out of my hand and picks the box up.

“Y/N,” I say gently. “What...what is all this?”

“Did you find your stupid box? Just--” her eyes search the room frantically and settles on the evidence box on the bed. She picks it up and shoves it into my chest. “Take it and go Harry, I don’t want t-to talk. To you. Please just--” her voice breaks.

“Okay I’ll go I just...” my heart feels heavier than lead and I want to say the perfect thing to her but nothing comes out. When she shoves me I scuttle out. I hear the sob that escapes her as soon as I exit into the hallway, I almost turn to go back in and offer comfort. But I couldn’t comfort her, not since the day I gave up on her. I walk to my car, not even relieved to have the evidence. I don’t know how long I sit in the car and think about the contents of that box: folded in neat piles were baby onesies, bibs, and a pair of tiny shoes. Remnants from a broken past, a broken promise.

I wasn’t an idiot, and I wasn’t heartless despite what Y/N thought. I know what my selfish actions did to her, I know how I’d fucked her up without meaning to. But it’s only now that the weight of it settles entirely on my shoulders. How many years has it been, and that small box of new onesies stayed under her bed. Her room might’ve looked sterile and fresh but its corners held heavier burdens than I thought were possible. A new feeling of shame blooms from within me, and it stays like a bad aftertaste.

***Y/N POV:

I was going to read that letter, find my closure, and burn everything from my past ceremonially in a bonfire, I think as I watch the trees in my backyard rustle with the morning wind. It had been a few days but I couldn’t even focus on him finding that box, the humiliation of watching him look up at me with confusion and pity...it was enough he’d broken my heart, but now he felt sorry for me too. I focus back on the greenery while my fingers toy with the letter that’d come in the mail, a few years late.

The envelope looked worse for wear but it was still as sealed as the day Harry had written it. I hesitate, trace my fingers over my name on the front. A memory comes rushing to me, Harry in my dorm writing silly things on my post-its and sticking it in places I wouldn’t find until he’d left. Like under my covers, or inside my closet door. They would be silly like

Y/N smells like farts

or cheesy like

have a terrific day

. I usually tossed them, other I’d tucked between classroom textbooks. I wonder what happened to them.

Finally, I work up the courage to slide my finger under the seal and break it open. Two pages fall out, his distinct writing halfway between cursive and chicken scratch covers both pages. I read:

Y/N

You’re probably wondering why you’re reading this--I don’t think I deserve your consideration for even a moment let alone for enough time it will take for you to read this. Yet I want so badly for you to read this, to just know I didn’t mean for this to happen to us. And I know you think I’m the one who did it to us, but I need to explain.

You always told me I was good with my words, that maybe I was an artist in another life--a poet you liked to say. But every time I try to find the right words to say to you, English may as well not be my first language. I should have tried harder, should have found the right words for months but I kept putting it off until it was too late.

You are and will always be my best friend first, Y/N, I know I’ve broken your trust but I care about you deeply. I just wasn’t happy. And that had to do with the road we were going down together, not you. I’m deeply sorry for the words I said that day, for how I’ve made you feel these last few months. I guess, ultimately, I was being selfish. And I don’t have an excuse for that. I fucked this up but I wasn’t happy and I was taking it out on you, and on us. I used the things we couldn’t have as an excuse, but I’m not happy where I am in my life. And that’s something I need to find; I need to figure out what I really want.

I can only hope we’ll circle back to each other one day, in the future, when we’re in better places. But I don’t think we were right like this, maybe it’s bad timing, or maybe there’s a blanket over us much too heavy for us to find comfort under. I’m sorry for leaving us like this and for breaking your trust but I need to do this.

Know you’re perfect as you are, right now, there’s absolutely nothing about you I would ever change. I, on the other hand, have a lot of changing to do.

I wish you nothing but the best, you deserve the whole bloody world Y/N, but I don’t think I can give that to you. I hope one day, you can find it in your heart to forgive me. For now, know I love you and I’m truly sorry.

Harry, xx

My finger brushes over the last line, I take myself back to the Y/N and Harry four years ago--and it’s not so hard to do. I lived there more often than I’d like to admit. But I picture us, I picture Harry sitting down to write this. How might I have taken this if I read it all those years ago? I picture myself dissolving into tears--maybe my sister was right in not showing me.

I also imagine I would have known why, and maybe I wouldn’t be where I was right now if I’d had that closure.

But even all these years later, the tears stream down my face as if it were just yesterday Harry handed the letter over to my protective sister. There was so much hurt and heaviness, looking at it from the perspective I had now...I see a glimmer of truth in Harry’s letter. We’d worked wonderfully as best friends, and our intimacy was comforting. But we were also two people being pulled in two directions while clinging onto what we thought would keep us happy. It didn’t mean I forgave him for what he did, how he did it. But I finally understood why.

All this time, I asked why--I wondered if there was something I could’ve done to have fixed it before he left. I see now, he’d wanted an out the whole time. Nothing would have fixed us except time apart. I still felt like shit, but this epiphany made me feel closer to the closure I needed. The light on the horizon grows a little brighter. We’d just had bad timing.

***

I feel bright and chipper Monday morning; a sunny morning and a weekend of closure could do that to a woman. I bring along with me a box of treats; it had been a week since the horrible robbery. We’d put some precautions in since, had the therapist stay a few more days, a few of the employees decided to transfer and as sad as I was to see them go I knew it was the right thing for them to do to feel better. As for myself, I forgot about it most of the time. But it would creep in every so often and freeze me up.

I spoke to the company’s therapist once more after Monday, she’d asked about Harry and I had told her about the letter. She was intrigued but quickly changed the topic to how I was feeling after the events of last Thursday.

“Y/N?” Adam walks into the staff room as I finish the note to accompany the treats. “What’s all this?”

“Treats to cheer everyone up! Not that sweet fried dough is going to erase everyone’s PTSD...” I try to make a joke but Adam’s face is tense like it’d been since that day. “Adam I’m teasing...have you um, have you talked to someone one-on-one?”

“Me? Why?” He jumps. “I’m fine, I’m alright it’s mostly out of my head anyway.”

“Hm,” I look him up and down. “I don’t believe you but I’ll let it drop...for now.”

He fidgets with his hands, “Anyway I came in here to let you know the detective on the case called first thing about returning some evidence-”

“I can’t pick that up.” I say finitely. “Do you have room today? Maybe take an extended lunch and pick that up?”

“From the station?” he stutters.

“Is that where he said it was?”

“Uh yeah, yes. He wanted you to pick it up.”

“Well DCI Styles won’t get what he wants for once, you’ll pick it up at lunch okay? Just keep me posted.”

I go back to my office with a coffee and get a crack on with my work. I check for any updates on the client from last Thursday but I continue to receive the automated email that their office was closed for the week. It was weird, but I just make a note to follow up later on.

After lunch, Adam appears shaken, with the evidence. I instruct him to leave it in the staff room and send out an email, making sure to remind them that they didn’t have to go through it if they didn’t want to. I would keep it there until it was cleared out, even if that took the month. I think about my scarf in there, the one used to tie my hands. I wanted to burn it, never see it again. I send Adam a quick email to remove it from the box and dispose of it.

H’s POV:

“This just doesn’t make any sense,” I comb my fingers through my hair, as if it might trick my brain into seeing the pattern here. “This same group’s hit four places total, and yet Y/N...the HSBC was the first. There’s got to be a connection there, it’s here but I just can’t see it.”

“Harry,” Detective Cole puts her hand on my shoulder briefly before moving it away. “Maybe you need a break, I don’t think I’ve seen you go home the last few days and your shirt’s a bit...ripe. Maybe take the rest of the day off?”

I sniff myself, she was right. She shrugs with a I had to say it look.

She was right too that I hadn’t gone home. I did almost nothing but focus on this case, not only because it was growing bigger by the day and I had pressure from upstairs. But it was a welcome distraction to the new guilt that seemed to jam every other area of my life.

It was almost like I was reliving a timeline, going back three or so years ago. It felt like Y/N and I were freshly broken up, and I was trying to pick myself back up from it. Except that’s not the way it went all those years ago--I’d moved on, quickly then. But now, time was catching up. Or maybe it was karma.

“Earth to Harry?” Cole waves her hand in front of my face. “You really should go home.”

“Yep,” I scratch my stubble. I should shave too. “I’ll just drop by evidence before I go.”

She looks like she was going to say something but she gets up from the chair beside my desk, and walks back to her own. I sigh, sifting through the files on my desk to take home with me. My notepad underneath shifts and I spot Y/N’s familiar writing: Y/N was here. I run my finger over it and smile, remembering how she had written that on the baseboard of every flat or dorm room we’d left. And just like that, the guilt and shame take the memory’s place. How the fuck was I supposed get past this and focus, I think.

I shove my files into a bag and head out. Evidence tells me there wasn’t a lot on the sim card but they were still trying. I ask for an email if anything comes to light, and go home where I fall asleep before my head hits the pillow.

i meant to take a short nap, but I wake at 4am and my mind’s buzzing with so many thoughts that I have nothing else to do but get up, eat a mashup of breakfast and last night’s dinner. With nothing more to do, and 6am creeping up, I decide to get in my car and drive while the roads were somewhat clear.

Driving helped me think sometimes, on my worst case after my promotion, I’d gotten on the road one night and driven all the way to Leicaster. After a night’s rest in a hotel and the drive back home, I’d cracked the case. But this time, with my thoughts racing, I end up driving to Y/N neighbourhood on autopilot. Maybe because she was on my mind, the guilt a constant companion since that day.

I park on the other side of her street, and watch her front door from the rearview. I don’t know why I was there, it felt ridiculous and creepy. Yet, I couldn’t leave. Maybe I could offer her a ride to work, I think. But I know she would decline because she didn’t even come in herself to collect her evidence. She’d sent her awkward assistant instead.

Her door suddenly opens, and a strange man walks out. She leans on the doorframe and laughs at something he says. He leaves a kiss on her cheek and walks away. She shouts something after him and he turns, saying something back that gets her laughing. My heart races, seeing her face in the distance wrinkle with laughter. I remember all the times I could get her to do that, effortlessly. The guilt returns tenfold.

He adjusts his coat, turning back around and she watches him fondly for a few seconds longer before closing her door. I’m suddenly irritated, immediately suspicious of this bloke. I watch, unblinking, until he turns the corner out of sight. Who was he? Her boyfriend?

I look at the time on the dashboard, 7:08am. I sit, indecisive for another half an hour. My thoughts churn: the robberies, the motives, Y/N, the worn out box with baby clothes, her male guest who’d spent the night, the look on her face when she’d woken up after her concussion and saw me: disbelief, anger, and sadness.

I get out of the stuffy car and walk across the street where I hesitate outside her door. I knew I was crossing a line, pushing a boundary she put up by not picking up the evidence herself. She’d made it clear what she wanted, but I never denied that I was a selfish bastard. I raise my hand, and knock.

[garbagevanfleet]

Brightest Blue (series)

PART SIX 

Pairing: Josh x reader Warnings: major marijuana usage!!  Summary:  Things are changing. New state. New school. New roommate. You just pray things are going to click into place. Notes: say hello to your new potential love interest - he’s cute, no? let’s see how he compares. 

As always, if you see @lantern-inthenight​, tell her thank you for being the very best editor. 

taglist: @valleyd0ll @satingrass-maidensfair @guitarfingers @thebohemianpenguin @peaceisouranthem @oblvions @hansonobsessed @myownparadise96 @lara-gvf @anditsmywholeheart @kill-fear-the-power-of-lies @bigblack-catattack​

On Monday it had dusted snow, but tragically, it had happened while you were in class. You hadn’t even known until you were leaving campus and had seen the lightest coating left on some spots of the grass by the treeline. 

When you got back to the apartment, Josh was already there, stirring a huge pot of something on the stove. The room smelled like a restaurant.

“Josh, oh my god, it snowed and I missed it!” you exclaimed, tossing your jacket over the back of the chair. 

He paused what he was doing to look up at you and chuckled. “Don’t worry, I promise that’s not the last time.”

“What are you making?” you asked, padding across the linoleum to peer over his shoulder. 

“Vegetarian chili,” he answered, lifting a wooden spoon to your face. You blew on it for a moment before taking a taste. “It needs something, but I can’t figure out what.”

“I think it’s perfect,” you replied and meant it, suddenly excited to have a bowl of it. 

He hummed at you. “Thanks, but it’ll be a while before it’s done.”

You watched as he swiped the scraps from vegetables from the cutting table into the compost bucket. 

“You want to watch a movie tonight?” he asked. 

You frowned back at him. “I wish I could, but I’ve got a lot of work to do on my presentation. I’m supposed to be reading it to the class in like two days.”

“Alright,” he agreed, just a shade on the solemn side. There was one thing you knew for sure, and it was that there was a lot you would endure to make sure you didn’t have to see him looking sad. 

“I think I can still concentrate on it if I sit with you during a movie.” 

He laughed under his breath at your bargain. “It’s okay, you can work in your room instead if you’d like. Or, you can have the living room and I’ll keep to my bedroom.”

You scowled at him and pointedly replied, “Don’t be stupid, Joshua. Okay, I’ll make you a deal. I’m going to work on my paper until dinner time, then we can watch a movie.”

“I’ll take that deal.” He reached out and took your hand, shaking it once in a faux professional manner. 

“But, that means I have to work all night on it tomorrow,” you warned, looking directly into his eyes. 

He just grinned back mischievously. 

+++

“So, what happened?” you prompted, dipping a spoon into a cup of strawberry yogurt. Kate peeked up at you over the rim of her cup, crunching a piece of ice as she set it back down on the cafeteria table. 

You had been expecting Josh to join you for lunch, but you’d gotten a text telling you that he had to bail to work on production stuff and he’d see you later. You had been a bit disappointed, but you had to admit that you envied his dedication. Plus, you had Kate to keep you company. 

She poured more of her Diet Cherry Coke from the bottle into the cup of ice as she talked. “Not much, honestly.” She looked like she was going to continue until her gaze caught on something over your shoulder. 

You were just about to turn your head to find what she was looking at when she spoke again abruptly, making you halt all movement. “Don’t look, but there’s a guy by the vending machine that keeps looking at you.” 

You gave her a surprised look. “Oh, what does he look like?”

“He’s kinda handsome - short blonde hair, probably a little taller than you, a little shorter than me.” She paused, fiddling with the cap of her soda bottle as he snuck peeks at him from across the room. “Okay, quick look.”

You chanced a glance over your shoulder and hummed as you turned back to her. “I think I’ve seen him around. I don’t really know him though,” you stated. “Are you sure he’s not looking at you?”

She huffed amusedly at you. “Pretty sure he’s not.”

“Ooh, speaking of,” you started, reaching out and nabbing one of the waffle fries off of her plate and popping it into your mouth. “Have you been texting Jake?” 

“Not really.” A scarlet-colored smile was forming on her lips. 

“Does that mean yes?” you pressed when you realized that was all the information she was going to give you. 

She shrugged at you, already collecting the remainder of her lunch to toss away with a cheeky look. 

It wasn’t until your last class that you realized where you’d seen that boy before, and embarrassingly, it wasn’t until he was already sitting next to you. 

You glanced over at him, trying not to look too surprised. 

“Hey, do you care if I take this spot today?” he asked, seemingly knowing what your answer would be. You kind of wanted to say no, just to prove him wrong. 

“Yeah, sure,” you agreed sweetly instead. 

“I hope this isn’t weird, but I saw you at Bennie’s party on Saturday and I guess I just wanted to formally introduce myself. I’m Trevor.”

He held out an open palm for you to take, and you cautiously did. “It’s nice to meet you.”

He looked pleased that this was going as smoothly as he had clearly intended - not that he was lacking confidence, but something about his facial posture told you he had expected you to give him a hard time. 

“So, I’m not going to lie, this is partly because you seem to be really good at this class, but would you like to study together sometime? We could maybe get coffee after class.”

You looked at him for a silent beat before replying. “What’s the other part of the reason?”

“You seem nice, and I think you’re very pretty,” he said honestly, giving you a smile. 

You mirrored it back to him with a nod. “Coffee sounds nice.”

+++

You had made it a point to message Kate, telling her exactly where you were and who you were with, and you had texted Josh, telling him you’d be back in a couple of hours. 

Trevor was nice and somewhat funny. He seemed a little intellectually shallow, but you couldn’t actually judge that from an hour and a half long hang out in a coffee shop. 

When you got back to your apartment and checked your phone, you had six messages from Kate. 

Oh i’m kinda shocked

Good for you tho

Is he cuter up close?

Are you guys actually studding

*studying

i’m going to ask around and see if anyone knows anything about him

You snickered to yourself as you were reading them, before quickly typing back, let me know what you find out tomorrow. 

You were greeted by an empty living room and kitchen, but you could see that Josh’s bedroom light was on, so you headed that way as you shedded your extra layers of clothing. 

You knocked on the door frame, though the door was wide open to reveal Josh laying out on his bed with a lit joint between his lips and Penny on his bedside table. Folk music was playing from his laptop in a tinny quality. 

He peeked an eye open at the sound of your entrance, greeting you with a smile. 

“You’re not falling asleep with a lit spliff, are you?” 

“This is my second one,” he replied as if that was supposed to answer your question or quell your concern. “You want some? Or do you want to work on your paper?”

You ran your teeth over your bottom lip. “I finished my paper in class today. My professor gave us the whole period to work on it.”

He perked up then. “I can’t help but notice that wasn’t a no.” And after a pause he finished, “And congratulations - I’m proud of you.”

You gave him an awkward thumbs up that he promptly barked a laugh at.

 “You wanna?”

“I’ve never smoked before,” you reminded him like it might change his mind. 

“C’mere. I’ll help you.” 

You held a finger up at him. “Hang on, I’m going to change. Don’t look at me like that, I don’t want my new sweater to smell like pot, dude.” 

You returned back in your pajamas, still nervous, but now comfy. He patted the spot in front of him on his bed, prompting you to clamber on. Once you were situated, you tugged his comforter over your shoulders from where it was bunched up at the bottom of his bed. 

“Are you good?” he asked. 

You nodded at him, nervous enough that he could sense it. 

“I’m going to shotgun you, okay?” He put his hand on your knee for comfort, and you had to admit that the touch helped ground you. 

“Okay,” you replied quickly. 

“Okay?” he prompted again, looking less convinced. 

“What does shotgun mean?” you whispered like it was a secret, making him giggle into his shoulder. 

“I’m going to blow the smoke into your mouth. Since it’s your first time, I don’t want you to get super high.”

“Oh. Yeah, that wouldn’t be good,” you agreed. 

“Okay, I’m going to take a drag, and you’re going to open your mouth and suck in the smoke when I blow it out.”

You watched him raise the paper to his lips, the cherry turning bright orange as he inhaled. It wasn’t until he leaned forward with a closed mouth that you realized how...intimate the moment was. 

You weren’t positive he wasn’t going to press his lips directly to yours until you opened your mouth and pulled in his exhale. 

“Hold it in a second if you can,” he instructed, his voice a bit deeper from the smoke. 

You did as you were told, grimacing as you exhaled. “It tastes like dirty socks.”

He snorted a laugh, tipping his head back until it was rested against the wall. 

“I’m not sure what I expected though, because it also smells like dirty socks,” you continued, prompting his laughing to continue until he was sighing contentedly. 

“That’s cute,” he said through a grin. “Innocent.”

You could feel your cheeks warming by the second. You rolled your eyes at him playfully. 

“Do you feel anything?” he asked, sitting back up to attend to you. 

You shook your head. “Not really,” you admitted. 

“You wanna try again? You can just take a hit yourself if you want.”

“Actually could you do it again?” you asked, embarrassed, but not enough so that you were willing to do it alone. 

He gave you a grin, lifting the blunt back to his lips, but this time when he leaned forward, the fingers of his right hand found your jawline, pulling you into him too. When he blew the smoke to you, it was just inches from your lips, and this time you drank it in, forcing it deep into your lungs and holding it there. 

It started to hit you moments after you exhaled it - this pleasant, warm feeling. 

“Hang on,” you said excitedly, throwing the blanket off of you as you scrambled to get off the bed. When you returned you had a little speaker and your phone. The playlist that the two of you had collaborated on for cleaning days started playing, and even though he was laying out flat on his bed, you could see his lips turn up into a smile. 

You laid next to him, resting your head on his arm and giving a pleasant sigh. 

“What’s it feel like?” he asked, a rasp behind the words. He lolled his head to the side to look at you. 

“Warm and fuzzy. Kinda like being in love or seeing a really cute kitten. But also kinda like being on a sailboat in the middle of...I don’t know, some European sea. I can’t think of a single one right now if I’m being honest though.”

When you met his eyes, he was grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “Damn, that’s awesome.”

He sat up on his elbow and reached past you to grab something from his nightstand. You were going to look and see what it was, but staring at the little speckles of plaster on his ceiling was suddenly the best thing you’d ever experienced. 

“Do you always wear cologne?” you asked, suddenly unsure if you were talking really slowly or if your brain just couldn’t process the sound on time. 

“Usually.” When you were able to look over at him, he had a bag of Tootsie Pops by his side, one of the sticks hanging out of his mouth. “You want one?”

You agreed by holding out your hand, letting him give you whatever flavor chance had picked for you. 

He had unwrapped it already, which you thanked him for as the flavor of grape hit your tongue. 

“What flavor did you get?” you asked, turning over so you could lay on your stomach, head propped up by your hands. 

“Cherry,” he replied through a smile, opening his mouth to show you after he asked, “Is my tongue red?”

You giggled at him. “Yeah, it definitely is.”

There was a long, comfortable pause, but you were in no state to determine how long it lasted. 

“I went on a date today.” It came out like an admission, despite your efforts to keep the statement casual. 

He had an impressed look on his face ”Oh, yeah? With who?”

He sat up with what looked like some effort until he was sitting cross-legged. You breathed a laugh, casting your eyes to the pendant of his necklace where it rested against his sternum.

“This guy, Trevor.”

The shocked smile he gave you felt a little surreal in your state. “I didn’t know you even knew any other people here.”

“I actually met him today,” you admitted. 

“And you went on a date with him?” And before you could answer, he continued. “How did it go?”

“It wasn’t really a date, per se. We just had coffee,” you informed. “And, actually, I even bought my own. “

He raised his eyebrows at you until you realized he wanted you to answer the other part of his question. 

“Oh, it was okay. I liked him.”

“Was he kind to you?” he asked, keeping his expression level. 

You nodded. “Yeah, he was. He offered to get my coffee, but I didn’t want him to think he was like. Doing me some big favor, you know?”

Josh huffed a laugh. “That sounds about right. Sounds like you.”

“We made plans for him to come over on Thursday and study.”

Josh tossed the stick of his sucker across the room, landing it perfectly in the little trash can by his door. “Would you like me to be gone for that?”

You frowned at nothing in particular. “Two things. One, how did you just make that shot? I can’t even move. And two, no, why would I want you to go?”

He shrugged, popping another sucker into his mouth. “I’m full of surprises, you’ve just gotta stick around.”

“Well, I live here so I don’t think that’ll be a problem.” The way you had muttered made him smirk at you. “But no, you obviously don’t have to leave while he’s here. Actually, I’d prefer if you didn’t - I don’t know him very well.”

Josh looked up at you through his lashes for a moment. “Then I’ll be here.”

The both of you hung out on his bed for an indiscernible amount of time, and not once did you ever feel less high. You had intended to get up and brush your teeth, but it didn’t happen, and there was nothing you could do about it. Your eyelids started to feel heavier than you could ever remember them being - like something had ahold of your leg and was dragging you down into sleep. 

The last thing you could recall was the sound of Josh’s smoked-out voice, quietly humming along to the chorus of a song and the visualization of the sound behind your eyes, sweeping back and forth between notes. 

[atc74]

Eye of the Beholder

Warnings: Poor body image (?), slight angst, a little envy, a lot of fluff, and implied sexy times

Summary: Jensen is feeling less confident in himself lately and you think you know why. He has always been there for you, now you just need to show your husband he has no reason to be. 

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Word Count: 1470

Written for: @breakthezone​ first quarter challenge, which was to choose one of two prompts. Mine is bolded below. 

Beta’d by: @amanda-teaches​, cause she is the best

A/N: So you know the pictures, the spread, the article in THAT magazine, featuring that beautiful soul, and that would cause any man to think less of himself, but I thought, what would go through Jensen’s head and how would I help him through it. 

Like Jensen’s Warmth? Buy it here from @scentsfromthebunker!

The cold snowy mountains were a stark contrast to the warm flatland of their home state, but Y/N was loving the quietness and solace of the northeast. Y/N pulled into the snow-covered driveway and started unloading the groceries. She planned accordingly and for weeks at a time; they didn’t have many delivery options out there. 

“Honey, I’m home! What do you say you come help me carry in and put away all this food and I make you a nice, juicy porterhouse for dinner?” Y/N called from the kitchen as she dropped the load on the counter. “Honey? Jay?” The house was mostly silent but then she heard it. The distinct smack of fists and feet hitting the heavy bag Jensen installed in the home gym. She sighed knowing this was the third day in a row Jensen had spent hours in the gym, working out until he was ready to drop. 

Y/N brought in the rest of the bags, stored the food, and changed her clothes. If she was going to join him in the gym, at least she could participate. It wasn’t like it was a hardship watching her husband in only a pair of shorts, his freckled skin dripping with sweat. 

She brought fresh water with her, setting it on the weight bench. He was breathing heavy, sweating, and red-faced. Jensen was not out of shape by any means, but he somehow had gotten it in his head that he needed to get into better shape. Maybe it was the pressure of becoming Soldier Boy, maybe it was that he was approaching his “mid-forties”, it could have been a few things, but Y/N thought she knew exactly what had prompted this new obsession. “Hey, honey.”

“Hey, babe,” he rasped, his breaths heavy with exertion, his hair soaking. “Just a few more minutes.” He landed another two punch kick combo. 

“Jay, you have got to take a break. You can’t keep going like this, hours a day, day after day,” Y/N pleaded with him. “This is enough for today.” 

“Yeah, okay. Maybe you’re right.” He stopped, hugging the bag tightly, holding on as he tried to catch his breath. 

“Go shower, I’ll get dinner started, okay?” Y/N smiled, kissing him softly. 

“You got it. I’m pretty sure I reek anyway.” 

Leafy greens and brightly colored vegetables covered the kitchen island as Y/N chopped and sliced away. The cuts of meat were sitting out to warm up before grilling, and a nice bottle of a full-bodied red was breathing on the table. Jensen emerged from the hallway leading from their bedroom about thirty minutes later, looking a little worse for the wear. He pressed a sweet kiss to her cheek, swiping a handful of peppers, too. 

“I saw that mister,” she smiled, leaning into his touch. “But I’m gonna let it slide just ‘cause you smell nice.” 

“Better than before?” 

“Oh, way better,” she laughed, turning and wrapping her arms around his neck. “Want to tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” 

“Nothing, babe. Just trying to stay in shape. I gotta get in that custom suit in a couple of weeks, and I ain’t getting any younger.” Jensen looked down, running a hand over his face, scratching at his beard. 

“That’s all, huh?”

“Yeah, just running isn’t gonna cut anymore. I have to keep up.” 

“Keep up with…?”

Jensen pretended he didn’t hear Y/N as he started helping with the salad. If he ignored the question, maybe she would let it go. It seemed to be working, for now, so he went with it, and continued to help her with dinner. 

“Jay, these look perfect!” Y/N gushed as she cut into the steak. She placed the bite in her mouth, the flavor exploding, and she moaned around it. “Oh my god, it's practically melting in my mouth!” 

“You made it easy with a superb cut of meat, babe,” Jensen shrugged, digging into his salad and grilled vegetables. 

All through dinner, Y/N noticed how he barely touched his meat or wine, but took extra helpings of the healthy stuff. She decided she would let it go, wanting to enjoy their meal, but soon enough, the dishes were cleared and leftovers stored. 

“Jay?” Y/N asked, rinsing the plate in her hand before handing it to her husband. “Can I ask you something?”

“Babe, you can ask me anything, you know that.” 

“And promise me you won’t get mad?” 

“I won’t get mad, but now I am a little suspicious,” Jensen raised one eyebrow, looking over at his wife. 

“Does your new workout regimen have anything to do with Jared’s spread in Men’s Health?” 

“No.” Jensen protested immediately. 

“Jay…” 

“Maybe,” he sighed, throwing the towel on the counter, then he turned, leaning against it. “Am I...soft?”

“Soft? I think you are the kindest, most generous, loving man I’ve ever known,” Y/N replied honestly. “I am lucky I found you and even luckier that you love me.” 

“Well, thank you for that, babe, but I was asking about my physical appearance,” Jensen hung his head, his voice getting quieter as he talked. “Do I have a ‘dad bod’?” 

“Jensen Ross Ackles, you listen to me right now. You have never looked better and you are in the best shape of your life. You just completed a 15 year run on the most successful sci-fi television show in history, you are stepping into an iconic role that you were hand-picked for, and if a ‘dad bod’ looks like this, then yes!” Y/N gestured to her husband while rambling on trying to make her point. “No, you know what? Come here, come sit down with me. Bring the wine.” 

Y/N sat down with her laptop, intent on showing her husband the proof he needed to believe her and believe in himself. Jensen sat down next to her, handing her a fresh glass, as she pulled up photo after photo on the screen. 

“Do you see what I see?”

“No, I see a skinny kid from Texas with no hair on his chest and barely-there abs,” he scoffed. 

“Okay, you still don’t have chest hair, but what else do you see?” She prompted him again. 

“A pudgy mid-section and that was before I turned 40!” 

“Do you want to know what I see?” 

“You’re biased.” 

“You’re damn right I am, but I do know that your fans, the Dean-girls, well, they’re not wrong. Did you know that according to several fan sites, you and Dean have way more fans than Jared and Sam? And are you telling me that millions of people are wrong?”

“Millions?” he asked skeptically. 

“Okay, well, maybe not millions, but a lot! But I see a man that is in better shape than he was twenty years ago. I see a skinny kid from Texas too. But I also see a man who now is in the best shape of his life and way sexier than that skinny kid.. What is it that you’re always telling me when I complain about my baby muffin top or my thunder thighs?”

“That bodies come in all shapes and sizes, and beauty isn’t defined by your body shape; it’s defined by your soul and you are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on.” 

“Okay, and I usually argue with you when you do, but that doesn’t mean you’re wrong. We are our own worst critics, you know that. But I see a healthy body and strong arms. Arms that hold me better than any others on the planet. Arms that hold our children and comfort them when they are hurt. I see a sexy mind and a stunning soul, one that was made for me.” 

“Okay, I think that is enough wine for you,” Jensen reached for the glass, but you moved it out of his reach. 

"Have I entered an alternate universe or did you really just crack a smile for me?"

“Fine, it could have been a smile.” 

“Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah, my exceptionally sexy wife made a pretty good point.” 

“Oh? Tell me more.”

“Well, she may also be the smartest person I know. She always knows just what to say when my dumbass is being, well a dumbass.” 

“Yeah, I am pretty damn smart. Because you know what else I did? I made arrangements for your visiting parents to keep the children overnight so they can swim until they pass out.”

“Wow, that is pretty smart. You know, I’ve been working out and I bet I could carry you all the way upstairs without breaking a sweat.”

“Oh, you’re on Ackles, but you are wrong about one thing.”

“What’s that?” 

“We will definitely be working up a sweat!”

The Whole Enchilada: @iwantthedean​ @dolphincliffs​ @mrswhozeewhatsis​ @flamencodiva​ @blacktithe7​  @amanda-teaches​ @hannahindie​  @kickingitwithkirk​  @wi-deangirl77​ @hobby27​​ @gh0stgurl​ @alleiradayne​ @idreamofplaid​ @manawhaat​ @crashdevlin​  @fangirlxwritesx67​ @winchesterprincessbride​ @waywardbeanie​ @jensengirl83​ @anathewierdo3467​  @winchest09​ @michellethetvaddict @magssteenkamp @waywardbaby  thewinchesterandreidwhore @anathewierdo

The Jensen’s Jamboree: @jerkbitchidjitassbutt​ @dean-winchesters-bacon​ @adoptdontshoppets​ @supernatural-jackles​ @fandom-princess-forevermore​ @akshi8278​ @thing-you-do-with-that-thing​ @deanwanddamons​ @rockhoochie​

[combat-wombatus]

Crimson Snow

Pairing: Hawks (Takami Keigo) x Fem!Reader

Genre: angst :’) (a lil bit of fluff thrown in here and there)

Warnings: mentions of blood, character death. 

WC: 7.8k. am i sorry? no.

Summary: Childhood friends doesn’t always equal lovers in the future. You wished that was the case, but ever since Keigo disappeared, you found it hard to believe in love again. 

(A/N): this was. i had to write this. it wasn’t up for debate. finishing this at 4am in the morning aldksjfhajshd. spent a grant total of 2 days brainstorming & writing this fic. not proofread at all. heavily inspired by the song 小幸运 by Hebe Tien. i strongly suggest you give it a try and listen to it as you read this :p (for all my chinese speakers out there...let’s see how you deal with this heartbreak :’) so yeah. i’m actually...really really proud of this fic. i tried a new format with this, and i think i kinda like it. also i left the ending up to interpretation if you don’t read the epilogue. enjoy! 

credit for this au goes to @wafflesandkruge​

here’s the link to the music :)

The one constant in your life.

The boy who’d always been there for you, through the dark days and the cold nights, holding your hand through it all.

The one who’d held you when you broke down.

The one who’d tucked you under his wings as the skies crackled with energy, rain pouring from the heavens, and told you that no matter where you went, he’d stay with you. He’d keep you nice and dry, snuggled close to his body as he shielded you from the storm.

The one constant in your life.

He’d left quietly in the night, not stopping by to say farewell.

In his place, he’d left a lonesome letter, tucked away beneath a boulder on your special hill.

“I’ll come back for you. Wait for me, okay?”

And from within that plain white envelope, a single red feather floated out, carried on the autumn winds, drifting aimlessly.

Almost as if it were lost.

And in that moment, you felt as if you’d lost a part of yourself, a little piece of your soul.

You weren’t sure you were ever going to get it back.

Years passed. You waited. There was no sign of him

Not in the skies, not on the land, and even though you’d sometimes see him in the reflection of the water, sitting next to you as you told him about your day, he wasn’t really there either.

I won’t give up on him.

I’ll stay strong.

He told me he’d come back for me.

Against the test of time, your resolve never withered. It only grew, strong as steel, taking over the crevices in your heart where he’d left his mark.

I’ll wait for you, Kei.

But please…come back to me.

“Hey, (Y/N)!” Your friend called out enthusiastically from her position on the couch. “Come look!”

“What?” You stepped out of the kitchen, only to be greeted by a familiar face, smirking on the TV screen.

“Look at him! He’s this new hero, and he’s only 18! (Y/N)! He’s our age! Isn’t he hot?” She pointed at his flickering image. “His hero name is Hawks!” Squealing, she turned to you. “Isn’t that so cool?”

You stood in shock, the glass of water that you had been holding slipped from your fingers and shattered onto the floor. Liquid pooled around your feet, soaking your slippers, but you made no move to step aside.

“Woah! (Y/N), are you okay?” She jumped off the couch, rushing towards you. “Hey, (Y/N)? He’s cute and all but…this is a little bit much, isn’t it?” She looked at you with concern, eyebrows drawing tighter when you didn’t respond.

“(Y/N) …what’s wrong? You look like you just saw a ghost.”

Shaking yourself from your daze, you averted your eyes. “Ahh, I’m sorry. Uh…I just, I never thought I’d see him again.”

“Wait, you know him?” Your friend looked at you, surprised. “(Y/N) …did he do something to you?” She asked softly. “If he did, I don’t care how cute he is, I’m gonna kick his ass to high heaven if need be. Someone like that shouldn’t be a hero.”

You shook your head, chuckling a little. “No…no, there’s no need to do that. It’s just…it’s been a long time, and I just didn’t expect to see him.”

“Ahh. Well, step out of that puddle! Come on, let’s grab you some paper towels.”

Hey!

It’s me, (Y/N). I…I saw you on TV today. You look…different. In a good way, I suppose. You’ve bulked up a bit.

You never used to smile like that though. Not like…like you were smiling for others. Seeing you smile for the camera, well…it made me sad.

But I’m happy that you’re ok. I think it would probably be hard for you to find me, since obviously I’m not on the news. So I’ll come find you instead, yeah? What do you say we catch up sometime?

I miss you. I’m in college now. I’m doing pretty good. You’re an overachiever, aren’t you? 18 years old and you already have your own agency.

Not that I’m complaining. Thanks for making it so easy for me to find you :)

So…let’s meet up sometime, when you have time? Maybe for some coffee? I know a quaint little place. It’s not too far away from your agency, three blocks to the right, turn left, and walk to the next intersection. It’s the corner shop. You can’t miss it.

I’ll wait for you there this Saturday, okay? I’ll do my work there. You can walk in whenever you have the time.

Your chicken, (Y/N)

Saturday came faster than you could prepare yourself. You checked your reflection repeatedly in the mirror, double-guessing your outfit decisions.

What if he doesn’t like it?

Is this too formal for a coffee date?

“Hey, (Y/N)!” Your friend barged into the bathroom. “I saw all the clothes on your bed! Are you going on a date?”

“Uh…just a meeting with an old friend. To catch up,” you explained.

She looked at you suspiciously. “Old friend…is it that guy on TV? Hawks?”

You grew flustered. “Err…yeah. If he got my letter.”

She looked you up and down, then dragged you into her closet. “Good thing I just went on a shopping spree last weekend then!” She pumped a fist excitedly in the air. “I’m giving you a makeover!”

Two hours later, you stood in front of the bathroom mirror once more. Your friend had put you through every single possible combination of outfits using both your closet and hers, and you had to agree that she had impeccable taste.

“Come on, you’re going to be late!” She shoved you out of the bathroom.

“I didn’t set a time!” You protested, laughing.

“Well, get your ass out of here! My boyfriend’s coming over!”

“So that’s the real reason you want me gone, hmm?” You teased her.

“Shush! Get out!”

Hawks was on patrol. You had been on his mind the entire week. Ever since your letter had reached his desk, he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

Thinking about you brought back happier times, and he wasn’t masochistic enough to give himself false hope.

No, it would be better for you to forget about him, and vice versa.

Still, he couldn’t stop himself. His body flew of its own accord, ignoring the sensibilities of his mind that screamed at it to stop.

Go back! The reasonable voice inside his head yelled.

Fly back!

His body refused to listen.

He found himself gently landing on a rooftop, right across the little café you told him to meet you at.

He even debated going inside. Just for a second. Just for a cup of coffee, to warm myself up in the chilly late-afternoon breeze, he told himself.

Then, he scoffed. Who was he kidding? If he went inside, he wouldn’t have the resolve to step back out before he saw you.

Shaking his head, he flew away as quickly as he could.

If he’d stayed a moment longer, he would’ve seen you walk down the street, humming a little tune to yourself.

Maybe then his resolve would’ve cracked.

Too bad he’ll never know.

Sitting alone at a table for two was an unpleasant feeling. Especially when you’re on your third drink, the waitress keeps eyeing you with pity, and you couldn’t concentrate on your work.

“Miss?” The waitress stopped by your table again. “Sorry to bother you, but we’re closing in 15 minutes.”

You checked the time on your laptop. Crap. It was already 5:15.

“Oh yeah, uhh, sorry to bother you!” You chuckle awkwardly. You quickly packed your books and laptop, dropped a $20 bill on the table, and hurried out the door. Walking home in silence, you tried your best not to feel too disappointed.

Maybe he just didn’t have time?

It’s ok. You’ll just ask him again, another time.

Another time.

You sent him countless letters. For the first year, at least. When he ignores all of them, you visit his agency in person.

As you walk through the glass doors, there’s a man sitting behind the reception desk.

“Hello, miss. How can I help you today?” He asks in the customary polite tone.

“I’m looking for Keigo. Hawks,” you answer, trying to hide your nervousness.

He looks at you suspiciously. “How do you know his first name?”

“We…we were childhood friends,” you tried to explain. “I…well, I haven’t seen him in a while.”

He took a closer look at you. “Can I ask for your name, miss?”

“(Y/N). (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

He sighed. “I’m afraid that you’ll have to leave the premises, Miss (Y/L/N). You’re not allowed to be here.”

What?

He hadn’t kicked you out before you told him your name.

“Why-” you started, but he cut you off.

“Miss (Y/L/N). I’m afraid that I have to ask you to leave, and don’t come back. Should I call security to escort you out?”

Holding back tears, you clutched your purse close to your chest and hurried out the glass doors, wishing nothing more than to shatter them into pieces.

You didn’t send any more letters after that.

Years pass. Every year on your birthday, Keigo gave you a feather.

“So I’ll always be with you,” he joked.

His feathers are extra durable, but time can wear down even the strongest things.

The last feather you got from him was ten years ago.

It can barely be considered a feather at this point, and you keep it in a special glass case so it can’t get any more worn down.

Ten years.

You’re turning 25 tomorrow.

Ten years of waiting around for him turned into ten years of watching him date other women. Ten years of hiding your pain every time another picture of him kissing a new girl graced the covers of the tabloids.

The first time, you cried yourself to sleep.

It wasn’t the last time.

Again and again, he breaks your heart.

By the third year, you convinced yourself to stop looking at the tabloids and the gossip sites.

By the fifth year, you scold yourself. You vow to stop crying over a stupid childhood crush.

By the seventh, you told yourself that you needed to forget about him. Step back into the dating ring, make out with someone else, and remove his presence entirely from your mind.

That didn’t work out.

Ten years.

It killed you to finally harden your resolve, but you told yourself that you couldn’t spend your whole life waiting for someone who was never going to love you back.

You’re turning 25 tomorrow, and you’re going to go on a date.

He’s watching you. He always is.

It makes him feel like a creepy stalker, but he can’t help it.

He watches you as you step into the restaurant, decked out in formal wear that looked amazing on you.

Going on a date. With someone who wasn’t him.

He stays on the rooftop, watching you through a window as you ate and laughed.

He wishes that he was the one making you laugh, that he was the one helping you order food from the menu, that he was the one sharing a dessert with you.

He’s selfish like that. It never does him any good.

He’s scared, really. Scared of commitment, tarnished by his time spent in the work program.

He sees you as the one thing in life that they can’t take away from him. You have this innocence, this purity that you always carry around with you, because you’re a part of a time when his life wasn’t so complicated.

He doesn’t want to shatter that illusion.

He never reached out to you because he’s scared.

He’s scared that he’ll break you.

He stopped sending you feathers, heart splintering every time your birthday comes around, hoping you’ll eventually forget him.

You don’t.

It’s not that you didn’t try.

No one else really interested you.

That is, until Masaki came along. He was bright, happy, always upbeat. He could find the words to cheer you up, to make a bad day that much better. He was attentive, caring, sweet.

He was everything that most people would look for in a partner.

And slowly, you began to open up to him too.

You fell into his embrace easier. You got a little happier when he came over for dinner.

You felt just a little safer when you were wrapped in his arms, a luxury you never thought you’d have.

Two years later, during a picnic date, he proposed.

You always had a love for picnic dates. Maybe because your first date, with Keigo, was a messy picnic affair during the spring, on top of a little hill where wildflowers bloomed and birds pecked at your leftovers.

“Stop!” You giggled, whipped cream smeared all over your cheeks. “You’re going to get it on my clothes!”

Keigo laughed, then popped another strawberry in your mouth. “You can wash that off later, silly! Just have fun!”

“It’s not fun when my clothes are all sticky,” you whined. “You try it! It feels gross!”

He smirked. “Oh really?”

Taking a strawberry, he dipped it in the container of cream you had brought, then stuck it down his shirt.

“Ha! Take that!” He gloated.

You stared at him in shock. “Did you just–”

“Yes I did! And it’s not gross at all, see?” He plucked the strawberry back out and shoved it in his mouth.

“Eww! Kei, that’s disgusting!”

“No it’s not, it still tastes like a strawberry! Mphm!” He chewed, licking his fingers.

He regretted that decision later, when bees swarmed the front of his shirt.

“Eek!” He shrieked, hopping backwards.

“Kei, take off your shirt!”

“It’s so sticky!” He yelped, trying to peel the front of his shirt away from his chest.

“I told you!”

“Hey, now is NOT the time for the ‘I told you so’ speech, okay?” He finally ripped his shirt off.

You couldn’t help it. You cackled.

“What now?” He looked at the bees feasting on his ruined tee.

“I told you so,” you teased him.

Taking one look at the devious glint in his eyes, you scooped up the picnic supplies and raced down the hill.

He followed, wings beating, taking off into the air. He reached you within seconds, tacking you to the ground.

“Hey, that’s not fair!” You struggled against him. “You know you’re fast when you fly!”

He looked at you mischievously. “And what about it?”

“You can’t race me like that when I’m on foot!”

“Who said we were racing?” His eyes locked on your lips. “I was just trying to catch up to you.”

You blushed, suddenly realizing how close his face was to yours.

“Kei–” you started.

“Can I kiss you?” He interrupted you, then quickly blushed. “I mean, only if you want to-”

You wrapped your hands in his hair, interrupting him with a kiss.

He tasted like the remnants of strawberries and cream, sweet honey on a beautiful spring day.

And it was a beautiful spring day.

Perhaps the last beautiful spring day you’d ever have, for the next spring, he was gone.

Beautiful spring days were few and far between. You’d learned that the hard way.

But today…you were inclined to think that it might be another one of those days.

Your boyfriend of two years had proposed on a beautiful spring day reminiscent of one long ago.

You supposed that this marked a series of firsts.

First date. First kiss. And now…a proposal.

You accept his proposal, tears in your eyes. He thinks that they’re tears of happiness, and in part, they are.

You don’t tell him that this was the one thing that you never thought you’d do. You feel like you’re betraying Keigo.

You have to remind yourself that he betrayed you first.

Half a year later, you have a wedding. It’s a small wedding, with only your families and close friends. You considered reaching out to Hawks’s hero agency, but decided to spare yourself the pain.

He’d moved on. So would you.

Unbeknownst to you, when the ceremony rolled around, Keigo was standing on a nearby rooftop, the wind blowing away his tears.

He couldn’t believe how beautiful you were.

He knew that he couldn’t have you, but didn’t you know that he was a sucker for pain? Watching you repeat the vows was like getting punched full-force in the gut, but the wind never returned to his lungs.

He felt empty inside. Something essential was missing, and he knew what it was, but he also knew that he couldn’t ever have it. Not if he wanted you to stay alive.

As the ceremony finished, he flew away into the sunset, and you caught a glimpse of his crimson wings, purely on accident. You shook your head in disbelief.

“Now I’m hallucinating too,” you muttered to yourself.

But no matter how hard you tried to convince yourself you imagined the whole thing, that final view made it so much harder for you to forget him.

Another year passed, and the seasons changed as they did. Spring flowing into summer, summer fading into autumn, autumn slowly drifting into winter.

Gradually, your new life engulfed you, the comfort of it all slowly draining away your doubts. Your husband was a good man. A faithful man. A caring man.

He held doors open for you and snuggled you on the couch. He played with your hair and made you breakfast in bed. He made it difficult for you not to love him.

You weren’t entirely sure you wanted to resist, anyways.

One night, you woke up in your shared bed, screaming in pain. Your lower back burned, almost as if you were getting branded.

Your husband woke up to the commotion. The bedsheets were stained with blood. Fresh, crimson, blood, all of it coming from you.

Whimpering, you laid limp as Masaki set you on your belly, trying to figure out the source of the injury. Taking a clean paper towel, he gingerly wiped the blood off of your raw skin, showing a tattoo emblazoned in gold ink.

Written in elegant cursive were three simple words.

Three words, but they hurt to look at.

(Y/N) …I’m sorry.

Your husband stared in shock. This didn’t happen. This couldn’t happen, could it? The only way someone got a tattoo like this was if their soulmate died, and, well…he was still very much alive.

He wasn’t your soulmate.

In this world, quirks weren’t the only strange thing.

Soulmates existed. But most never found out until it was too late.

When your soulmate died, their last words would be tattooed permanently on their other half’s skin in a bloody and painful process.

Their last moments would flash before the other’s eyes.

Nothing you could do. Nothing you could be sure of, until it was too late.

Fires blazed everywhere.

Building after building, it ate away at the crumbling city, tearing down everything in its path.

“Help!” A voice choked out, raspy from smoke intake. “There’s a beam—ugh—on my leg. I can’t get it off!”

A winged figure crouched on a burning rooftop, out of breath and utterly exhausted.

Backup wasn’t coming.

The whole city was burning.

Standing shakily, he sent the last of his feathers off to help the trapped woman.

“That’s it for me then, I suppose,” his smile wobbled slightly. “My work here is done.”

He couldn’t risk jumping off of the roof. His wings were stubs on his back, and only a single feather remained.

“That’s not enough for me to fly off, now is it?” He chuckled mirthlessly. “Oh, if only you could see me right now, (Y/N). You’d be proud. Saved more than 500 people today, you know that?” He sighed, sitting down on the roof. “Lost count somewhere around there. You were always proud of me, weren’t you? The only one that believed in me when I told myself I couldn’t fly.

You’re the one that taught me to fly, remember, chicken? Those were the good times.

Look at me now. Talking to myself. Don’t even have the strength to fly down anymore.” He coughed into his hand, blood staining his palm. He grasped tightly onto a keychain around his neck, smearing the metal with crimson.

“I never did thank you. Guess it’s too late now.” He stared up at the sky, hues of orange and gold dancing across the horizon.

“Never did treat you right.” He plucked his last feather off of his back, twirling it around in his fingers.

“You were always too good for me. Too good for anyone, really.” He laid down on the roof, back no longer sensitive to the burning heat.

“I lost the right to love you a long time ago. I’ve got no business crying over you.” He chuckled bitterly. “But is that going to stop me?”

Letting go of the keychain and his feather, his hands went limp.

“(Y/N),” he sighed, closing his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

The roof collapsed, the hungry flames licking at the bottom finally swallowing him whole. His comms fell out of his ear, the plastic melting in the heat.

A single red feather floated down to the ground, charred and blackened.

The only remains of his body they’ll ever find.

You were sobbing uncontrollably. Keigo.

He was your soulmate.

The boy you loved.

The one who’d abandoned you.

The one who you tried to forget.

He was your soulmate.

Your soulmate, who was dead.

“Turn…turn on the TV,” you whispered weakly. “Turn it on. I need to see.”

Masaki reached for the remote, flipping it on to the news channel.

“Earlier tonight, a bomb was detonated in Nagoya prefecture. Top heroes were on the scene, including Endeavor and Hawks, but their quirks are ill-suited to fight the conflagration. Endeavor has resorted to using brute strength to rescue people from the rubble, while Hawks hasn’t been seen since the beginning of the night. We are now reporting his status as MIA, and will continue to look for the Winged Hero, along with updating our reports on the status of missing civilians–”

You shut the TV off. You’d heard all you needed to.

Throwing on a mishmash of clothing, you sprinted out the door. Hailing a taxi, you hopped in before it had even screeched to a full stop.

“Hawks Hero Agency.” You told the driver, not bothering to mince your words. You hadn’t bothered to wipe all the blood off of your back either, so it was gradually staining your coat a deep crimson, a mocking parody of the way that Keigo’s feathers used to lay against his back.

His feathers that were burnt, charred, turned to ashes, no longer able to bring you the comfort they once had when they wrapped you in a warm embrace.

The driver looked concerned. “Miss, do you know what happened today? Hawks isn’t–”

“Yes, I know. Drive.”

You pressed your forehead against the window, breath steaming up the glass. It reminded you of one winter, when the two of you had been building snowmen, and your mother called you in for dinner.

“Kei, I have to go,” you tugged at his hand.

“Aww, (Y/N),” he kicked at an unfortunate stone with the scuffed toe of his boot. “Why can’t you stay a little longer? We haven’t finished his head yet.” He pouted.

“I can’t, Kei,” you tried to make him release his iron grip on your hand. “Mama’s gonna get mad.”

“Then I’ll make you stay!” He boldly declared, wrapping his little arms around your frame, tackling you to the snow-covered ground.

The two of you giggled, engaged in a tickle war, your mom’s voice fading into the distance.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N)!” Your mom yelled, marching over to where the two of you lay, tangled in a heap. “Do you want to get a cold?”

“No, Mama,” you said, slowly getting up and dusting the snow off of your parka. “I’m coming.” You turned around and poked your tongue out at your friend, letting your mom drag you back into your house.

Keigo sat in the snow for a while longer, not exactly excited to go back to his house.

Suddenly, an idea popped into his head.

He beat his little wings as fast as he could, half flying, half stumbling to your kitchen window.

Sneaking a peek inside, he saw you staring questioningly back at him. Not bothering to hide his mischievous grin, he puffed out a breath, steaming the window, took his little glove off, and started writing.

“D O  Y O U  W A N T  T O  F L Y  W I T H  M E ?” He painstakingly wrote out.

You shook your head, and his grin quickly dropped from his face. Looking down, he almost missed the words you mouthed out.

“I can’t read it!” You tried your best to sign. “It’s backwards!”

“Oh!” He tried his best to write the mirror image of what he had just written, making sure that you could read it from your point of view this time. You read his little message, a grin taking over your face.

“Y E S!” You mouthed. “YES, YES, YES!”

Quickly scarfing down your dinner, you waved a hasty goodbye to your mom, racing out the back door, only to get tackled into the snow.

“Come on, let’s go!” He took ahold of your hand. “Race you!”

“You can’t race me if you’re holding my hand!” You shrieked in delight. “Stop it!”

He paused, turning around. “Hmm. Well, maybe I don’t want to race you then,” he looked at you with a small smile on his face. “I wanna try something new!”

“Oh?” You asked, seeing the way his eyes lit up with delight. “What is it?”

“I wanna fly! With you!”

Giggling, he turned you around so that your back was facing him. He circled his arms below your armpits.

“Hang on!” He flapped his wings as fast as he could, kicking up a storm of snow around you. To his surprise, he actually managed to lift the two of you off the ground for around 3 feet or so. He wasn’t expecting it to work on his first try, but the two of you really were flying!

Sighing, you turned away from the window.

Happier times, you chuckled mirthlessly.

Isn’t it sad that I’m only remembering them now?

The car screeched to a stop at the front door to the Hawks Hero Agency.

You stepped into the lobby, the fluorescent lights blinding.

It’s the middle of the night, but they don’t seem to mind, you thought. Everyone was bustling around the place like it was normal.

The receptionist had changed since you’d last been here.

She spotted you and hurried over, most likely because of the blood staining your clothes.

“Miss, are you hurt?” She gave you a once-over. “Can I help you?”

You stared at her in shock for a moment. What were you here for again?

“Oh…uh,” you wrung your hands nervously. “I’m here for Hawks.”

Her expression of concern melted away into one of annoyance. “Another fangirl. This one appears to be married too,” she scoffed at the band adorning your left ring finger. “People these days…” she muttered underneath her breath, already hurrying back to her desk, where the phone rang incessantly.

“No. I’m not a fangirl.” You lifted your head. You might be in pain, but damned if you were going to let a stranger strip you of the remaining shreds of your dignity.

“I’m his soulmate.”

The way you said that phrase with such conviction made the lady pause.

“Soulmate?” She questioned. Girls had tried this trick on her before, but…when asked to prove themselves, they merely responded with “oh, it’s just a feeling,” or “I just know it.”

Never once had anyone said this phrase with such confidence.

“Yes.” You shut your eyes, defiantly holding back tears. “You have comms, right? What did he say before the comms died?”

The lady stared back at you, a pang of sorrow shooting its way into her heart. You weren’t joking around, were you?

“I…yes, yes we do. What’s your name, miss?”

You sucked in a deep breath. “(Y/N). (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

She stared at you for another moment, then quietly pulled out her comms.

“He said…” she choked a little. “He said, ‘(Y/N) …I’m sorry.’ We weren’t sure who he was talking about. We assumed it was a civilian he wasn’t able to save,” she pressed the back of her hand to her mouth. “Oh God…”

Quietly, she choked out another question. “Was it…was he talking about…you?”

You didn’t want to reply. You’d heard enough.

The lady didn’t try to stop you as you ran to the elevator, your fingertip pressing the “up” button so hard it bruised.

Quickly looking at the directory, you found his office.

“420.” You choked out a pained laugh. “He always did like messing around with people.”

Collapsing against the corner of the elevator, you wrapped your arms around your knees and lowered your head. You felt so goddamn tired.

Why did it have to be you?

Why couldn’t he break someone else’s heart?

Someone who was stronger?

Someone who could take this in stride and move on?

Why did the universe choose you?

The elevator bell dinged, rousing you from your thoughts. You stood up slowly, a trail of blood staining the place where you once sat.

Crimson, like the trail of feathers he’d (perhaps intentionally) shed during that game of hide and seek.

You buried your face into your hands.

Goddamnit, Keigo! Why does everything have to remind me of you?

You made your way into his office, most likely the messiest of all the top pro-hero offices. Paperwork was scattered everywhere, jackets strewn across the floor. You even saw a shoelace string laying on the carpet next to his desk.

It’s almost as if he’d always expected to come back.

Stepping cautiously over the objects that littered the ground, you came face-to-face with a cabinet next to his desk.

Snowglobes. So many snowglobes.

Snowglobes occupied every shelf of the cabinet, and the glass doors made it easy to examine the contents.

You squinted closely at them. They were all…different angles of the same scene, you realized.

The snow park above your houses.

He’d had snowglobes made.

They immortalized the place where the two of you played all day in the snow.

The place where he first learned how to fly, gliding off the hills like a paraglider.

The place where he’d picked you up and learned how to fly with another person’s life in his hands, hugging you close to his chest, reveling in your warmth.

In the spring, it was the place where he took you on your first picnic date.

The place where the two of you shared your first kiss.

The place where he left you his goodbye note, tucked away under the grounding weight of a boulder you used to lay on, basking in the sun’s warmth.

He’d had 12 snowglobes made. Your lucky number.

12 different angles that showcased the same scenery.

Suddenly, your legs wouldn’t carry your weight anymore. You leaned back into his chair, still smelling faintly of his scent.

How can someone’s scent not change over 13 years?

You closed your eyes, and quickly opened them again when you saw a pile of letters on the corner of the desk.

You weren’t sure why they caught your eye. They weren’t anything special, really. Plain white envelopes addressed in plain black print.

You took a closer look.

That was your name on the envelopes.

You leaned closer, quickly shuffling through them all.

Each and every single one of them was addressed to you.

Each and every single one of them was dated a year apart.

Each and every single one of them was marked for your various addresses over the years, his handwriting steadily improving.

You couldn’t resist your curiosity. Taking a paper cutter, you tore through the seal of the earliest envelope.

A single red feather, beautifully preserved, floated out.

You stared in shock. He…he didn’t forget.

He never forgot.

He just chose not to send it.

Hurriedly opening the remaining envelopes, you acquired more feathers, each fresher than the last.

By the end, you had a pile of 13 crimson feathers, right next to 13 shredded envelopes.

You looked around, confused. Why hadn’t he left a note? Any note?

Did he…did he never write letters?

You knew that you had sent him letters.

Maybe they did throw them out as spam.

Your curiosity piqued, you pulled open drawer after drawer, but none of them held anything of personal importance.

Finally, you came upon the bottom right drawer.

It was locked, you realized.

You carefully place the feathers back in their respective envelopes. Sealing them up once again, you carry them in a stack, making your way downstairs.

The agency workers saw you with the letters in your arms, not sure if they should stop you or not. When you looked to the receptionist and murmured a quiet “thank you”, they stood their ground. If she was okay with you walking away like this, then there shouldn’t be a reason that they wouldn’t be.

The taxi driver who took you here was still waiting outside. Seeing you arrive, he stomped out his cigarette butt and opened the backseat door for you.

“Rough night, miss?” He looked at your back, pity obvious in his expression. “Do you want me to take you to a hospital with that?”

You shook your head. “They can’t fix that. Do you remember the way we came?”

“Aye, yes I do,” he stepped into his own seat. “I’ll take you there right quick, miss. Don’t you worry.”

As you rode back home in silence, you couldn’t stop thinking about the cabinet in Keigo’s office.

The feathers, folded away safely in the envelopes you were holding.

If he never forgot, why did he never reach out?

The car door slamming shook you from your daze. “Miss, you’re back home.”

You stared at the man, realizing that you didn’t have your wallet on you.

“Do you mind waiting a second? I’ll go get my wallet now–”

He shook his head. “I know where that blood came from. See here?” He rolled up his sleeve.

“Got mine when I was 22,” a melancholy smile framed his face. “Rare, right? I never did find out who she was.

But the hospital staff helped me that day. Looked for deaths around my age, and then when I tried to pay ‘em, they refused. Said ‘twas only the right thing to do. Now I finally get to repay the favor. Don’t you go tryna pay me now. Won’t ‘ccept it.”

He leaned back against the hood of his car. When you opened your mouth to object, he merely saluted you, hopped back into the driver’s seat, and drove off into the night.

You turned to your house. The lights were still on inside, meaning your husband was still up. He probably couldn’t sleep, not after what had just happened. You couldn’t blame him.

Stepping inside, you heard muffled sobs coming from the kitchen.

“Masaki?” You leaned on the doorframe. He looked up at your voice.

“(Y/N)?” He rose from the table. “You’re…you’re okay,” he wrapped you in a hug.

You cleared your throat. “…yeah. Yeah, I’m okay,” you hugged him back.

I’m okay, you tried to convince yourself.

“Where did you go?” He looked at you curiously. Finally seeing the envelopes in your arms, he paused.

“Babe?” He asked softly. “Did you…did you know him?”

You buried your face into his chest. “Yeah…yeah, I did.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked softly.

“Not really…not now…” you replied.

He patted your back lightly. “That’s ok. I understand.”

The rest of the night went by in a blur. The letters were scattered on your nightstand, your husband helping you into the shower. He’s changed the bloody sheets already, but the stains on the mattress were stubborn and refused to come out.

Crimson stains, in the shape of wings.

Days later, some people from the agency stopped by your house.

“Is there a (Y/N) (Y/L/N) at this address?” The receptionist from your earlier encounter knocked on the door.

“Uh, hi. Yeah, that’s me,” you answered, not bothering to change out of your bathrobe. Your complexion had grown waxen, face shallow. Your hair formed an unkempt nest, spiraling around your face.

She gave you a smile, pity etched in her face. It disgusted you, really.

All anyone ever gave you nowadays was pity. Pity cards from your coworkers, although you weren’t sure how the information leaked out. Pitiful glances from your husband, who insisted on doing all the chores around the house.

Pity, pity, pity.

“What is it?” You asked her.

“We have some…documents for you.” She waved over two guys, each lugging a large crate of…paper?

“Wait…all that? For me?” You were confused. There was no way that that bottom drawer, even if all it contained were letters, had that much paper in it.

“Yes, (Y/L/N)-san. It’s all for you.” The men dropped off their crates at your door.

“What’s going on?”

“These were stored in the records house. Hawks filed them. They were all addressed to you, so we felt that this was the proper treatment.”

“We’ll leave you to go through these in your own time.” She started down the steps. Then, as if remembering something suddenly, she paused.

“You know…he was a good man,” she smiled gently. “We all knew he had a secret someone. We just didn’t know who they were. I’m glad he found you. Hero work is dangerous, especially for top heroes like him.

I hope that you find joy in those letters.” She turned back and finished her journey down the steps.

You turned around and looked at the crates.

Found me?

You smiled bitterly, a brittle coldness taking over your heart.

He never really did find me, did he?

Sighing, you sorted through the crates, looking for the ones that were dated the earliest. You carried the oldest set of letters into the bedroom and tore open the first envelope.

Hey, (Y/N). It’s me, Kei.

I hope you haven’t forgotten about me. I mean, I’m not an easy person to forget, I suppose, but it has been a while. Three years, to be exact.

Three years can do a lot to a person.

I should know.

How are you doing? I hope you managed to keep Timothy alive. You were always prone to overwatering him.

I’m not sure how long cacti live, but…if you nurture something, anything can happen, right?

I’m a hero now. I’m sure you know. My debut was broadcasted all over national television. They just can’t resist making themselves look good, can they?

At least now I’m allowed to write. I hope you understand why I haven’t written to you in so long.

I didn’t forget about you. How could I? Even though we were only 15, how could I forget someone like you?

I missed you. I don’t think you understand how much. It felt so empty, living without you by my side. Like…like I wasn’t ever warm enough, even bundled in the tightest blankets. I was always missing you.

Sounds like a curse, eh?

But don’t worry. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I just wanted you to know that.

Yours, Kei.

Ripping open letter after letter, you realized that you held his entire life story in your hands.

Hey chicken. It’s Kei again.

Realized I’ve been treating these letters as a kind of diary. I guess it’s…therapeutic? Even though I know I’ll never send these. I don’t want to put you in danger, you know?

Do you remember when we were kids?

We had all the time in the world to do whatever we wanted.

I miss that time.

Not as much as I miss you though.

I check in on you every so often, but I make sure you never see.

False hope is a dangerous thing. It shatters your soul into pieces, and when you try and piece them back together, it cuts your heart so badly you wish you’d never started.

But, you see, you’re like a drug for me.

I can’t seem to stop myself. No matter how bad it hurts, I…I still come back.

You wouldn’t know, of course.

I suppose there’s a reason it hurts when you stare into the sun.

I’m already broken, yeah? I don’t want you to break with me.

The thing is, I know you’d want to. I know we promised we’d always come back for each other. We promised we’d always be here for each other.

But some promises were meant to be broken.

You can’t be here for me, birdie. You’ll get hurt.

That would hurt me more than anything else, (Y/N).

So for my own safety, and yours…

This is the last time I’ll write to you.

I have to move on, or else those pieces of my soul?

They’re already in splinters, but if I keep going like this, they’ll be nothing more than powder, and I don’t think I could go on like that, yeah?

I love you, forever and always.

Kei.

Ha. Guess what.

What I said in the last letter?

A fucking lie.

I physically. Can’t stop.

The thought of not writing to you breaks me more than the thought of never being with you, and that’s a milestone I never thought I’d be able to pass.

So here I am again.

You’ve already heard my entire life story.

I wish I could be there to hear yours.

I saw you tonight, standing on your balcony. You know, the stars were so bright tonight. Reminded me of your eyes the first time I flew with you around the whole field, yeah?

Sparkling. You never stop sparkling, do you?

You know…do you ever wonder who your soulmate is?

I know that the world is cruel. I know that we don’t know exactly who our soulmates are until one of us dies.

But…do you ever think about it?

Who’s out there, just waiting for you?

Because I do.

And sometimes, when I’m at rock bottom, I’ll imagine that we’re soulmates.

I’ll create scenarios in my head. We’d be happily married. I’d spoon-feed you ice cream.

We’d play tickle wars with my feathers, have pillow fights, binge TV shows.

We’d watch horror movies, and you’d hide your face in my chest the whole time.

But…those scenarios always make me feel worse after I wake up. Because they’re not real.

And I…I so desperately want them to be real.

But you can’t always get what you wish for, yeah?

Going on a big mission soon. Undercover. Cool, right?

You’d be proud of me, I think, if you saw me.

I have to go now. But I’ll come back safe for you, yeah?

I know you won’t wait for me. I want you to wait for me, but…I know it’s not in your best interests. Probably not in mine either.

Sometimes I try and convince myself that it’s okay to be selfish. I want what I want, and you only live once, right?

But then I realize that you’re the one I’d be putting in danger.

And that’s when I realize you can’t ever stay with me.

It’s okay. I’ll watch from afar.

I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop loving you.

Yours,

Kei.

You put the letter down and rummaged through the second crate, desperately trying to find the last letter that he wrote.

Hey birdie. Long time no see. Ha.

13 years and I still can’t forget about you. Doesn’t seem normal, does it?

I’m convinced that we’re soulmates, but then again, I may have convinced myself. You know…I used to hate the idea of soulmates. Sharing your life with another person, seen as incomplete without them?

Sharing my soul?

Bunch of crap, right? I like making my own decisions. Wasn’t ever much of a rule-stickler. But…you know…I’m starting to warm up to that idea.

But only with you.

And that’s why I’m convinced that we are, in fact, soulmates.

You don’t know how my heart breaks every time I see you. Manual is a good guy. I know he’s treating you well.

That’s the only reason I’m letting you stay married to him, really. If it was anyone else, I would’ve busted their ass.

But…you deserve someone like him. Someone who can give you their all.

Someone who, if you date them…they won’t lead you into danger.

Soulmates are a finicky concept, yeah?

So…I guess we’ll never know ‘till one of us dies.

Yours,

Kei.

Epilogue

Rainy winter days were the saddest days of the year.

Especially today.

Strolling through the park, you held a black umbrella in one hand and clutched a glass case tightly in the other.

You stopped in front of a marble headstone.

“Hey there,” your voice cracked.

“Miss me?”

A whistling wind, scattering powdered snow and frozen rain across the landscape, was your only answer.

“Kei, I–” You collapsed onto your knees, uncaring of whether or not the cold would seep in. It couldn’t get colder than your soul now, anyways.

“I…I didn’t go to your funeral.” Tears rolled down your cheeks, leaving a silvery sheen in their wake. “There were too many people and I…I couldn’t handle it.”

“But…Kei…” You choked out an ugly sob. “Why didn’t you send me the fucking letters?”

“I don’t care how dangerous your work was. You can’t get anywhere without taking risks in life, Kei!” You screamed at the marble façade, willing it to crumble.

“You can’t–”

“You can’t make my decisions for me!”

“I should be the one who gets to choose who I love!”

Your screams attracted the attention of several bystanders, who quickly averted their eyes and walked away when they saw your distraught state.

“You shouldn’t have tried to choose for me!”

“And now–”

“You’re dead, Kei! What am I supposed to do now?” Your tears pooled on the frozen ground, marking little dents in the snow.

You slammed your fists into the ground, the glass case in your hand cracking.

Another ugly sob made its way out.

“Kei–” you whimpered.

The glass shattered, splintering into thousands of tiny pieces, each fragment glittering like diamonds.

Slivers found their way into your palm.

Crimson blood, the color of the worn-out feather freed from its enclosure, splattered the snow-white ground.

“Kei,” you whispered, carefully placing the feather on top of the chiseled marble.

“Wherever you are, I hope you’re happy.”

Masterlist

[deascheck]

Midterm Surprise

Midterms

Ask: “How - how did you find me?”

Word Count: 1922

Warnings: smut

A/N: This is one of my first DeanxReader fics… would love feedback on whether or not I captured his personality! Though they aren't really an item... ?? @flamencodiva I hope it's everything you were wanting! I'm a novice to writing smut so I hope it's ok! *crosses fingers*

You sighed. You could not believe you’d made it through your three hour lecture class. Somehow, you’d stayed awake, though you could not say the same for everyone in the class. You looked around. About every fifth person was still asleep. You chuckled tiredly. I can’t blame them, now can I? I wanted to do the exact same thing. You picked up your laptop and notebook and stuffed them in your backpack.

Maybe I’ll go to my favorite diner to study for midterms, you thought. I deserve a fucking treat after getting through this goddamn class.

You walked to the parking lot and got into your 1967 Chevy Camaro. You loved your car. She was your pride and joy and you called her Baby. Not unlike a certain hero who’d saved you from a werewolf a couple years back. His car was similar to yours, a 1967 Chevy Impala. A real beauty. He called her Baby, too. You smiled at the memory. Damn, was Dean proud of that car. Dean had gone on his way, but not before the two of you had spent the night together making memories neither of you were likely to forget.

Shaking your head, you brought yourself back to the present. You drove across town to your favorite hole in the wall diner, a quaint little 24/7 diner where the workers all knew you by name.

You hauled your backpack onto your back and walked in.

“Hey, Joy! Hey, Dave! How’s it goin’ today?” you asked.

Joy and Dave smiled at you as you sat down at the counter. “It’s goin even better now that you’re here, Y/N! It’s been a couple weeks! Where ya been hiding?” replied Joy, the waitress who was standing by your seat.

‘Oh you know, it’s midterms comin’ up, and all. Gotta study so I can get those A’s!” you said.

Dave laughed. “Ohhh midterms. I don’t miss those,” he stated. “I know I’ve only been out of college for a couple years, but damn I don’t miss it!”

Joy nudged you. “Your usual?”

You grinned. “Yes m’am! I gotta be fully nourished to study for this stupid Psychology class. I thought I’d love Psychology,” you added. “But having it in a three hour lecture format just blows.”

Thirty minutes later, you were deeply engrossed in lecture notes and flashcards. You were so busy studying, you didn’t hear the bell ring as the door opened. You were looking at your flashcards in your lap, and all of a sudden noticed a pair of worn boots standing close to you. Offended, you brought your head up to tell the guy off for invading your space when your words stopped dead in your throat. A brown-haired, green-eyed, devilishly handsome man was smirking back at you.

“D-Dean! Oh my god! How- how did you find me?” You couldn’t believe your eyes.

“You’re assuming I was looking for you sweetheart,” he retorted. “Just kiddin’. Sammy and I are in town for a hunt. I dropped him off at the morgue and was looking for a bite to eat when I saw your Baby. I’d recognize that car anywhere. I figured I’d stop in here and give you a hard time,” he said with a glint in his eye.

“A hard time, eh?” you said. “I see. Well, I’m in the middle of studying for my Psychology midterm. Would you care to join me?”

Dean’s smirk turned into a smile when you didn’t turn him down, and he replied, “Darlin’, I’d love to.”

An hour later, Dean was quizzing you with your flashcards when his phone rang.

“Sammy, what’s up? …. Uh-huh. Ok. … Yeah, I’ll be right there. Gimme 10 minutes.”

Dean looked at you regretfully. “Well, sweetheart, I’ve gotta go pick up Sammy from the morgue. It was really nice seein’ you.” He looked at you with something almost like hope in his eyes.

You knew you couldn’t let this opportunity pass you up. “Umm… I don’t suppose you’d want to meet up later?” you asked.

Dean grinned broadly. “Here’s my number. Text me your address and we’ll figure somethin’ out,” he said. He grabbed your hand and wrote his number on the back of it. Winking at you, Dean stood up and headed for the door. “I’ll see you later, sweetheart,” he called over his shoulder.

As soon as he left, you texted him your address. “Meet me at 7pm,” your next text said.

You realized it was almost five and panicked. You had to clean up the apartment, shower, and find something suitable to wear for Dean when he arrived.

You drove home in record time and instantly went about putting laundry away, putting dishes in the dishwasher, and picking up school papers and tidying them. You then took a quick shower and chose your best pair of lingerie, hoping your night with Dean would end steamy. Over your dark red lace panties and bra, you put yoga pants and a loose t-shirt that hung over one shoulder. Just as you finished getting dressed, the doorbell rang.

You took a deep breath. This is it, you thought. Here goes nothing. You swung the door open to find Dean standing there about to knock. He smiled at you. “Hey there, sweetheart.”

“Hey stranger,” you managed back. Why was he so handsome? He was in a red shirt, with dark jeans and boots. He’d clearly run his hands through his hair in an attempt to smooth it.

Stepping back, you let him into your apartment. He took his shoes off and followed you to the kitchen. “Drink?” you asked.

“Sure, sweetheart,” he answered. “Thanks.”

You got out a bottle of whiskey and two whiskey glasses. You poured a couple fingers and handed him his drink. Drinking was not what was on your mind though, as you stared at him from under your lashes.

He shifted in his seat at the kitchen table and said, “If you keep looking at me like that, I can’t be held responsible for my actions.” His pupils were blown, lust filling his eyes.

You sidled to his lap and straddled him. “Maybe I don’t want you to be,” you said seductively.

With that, he pulled you flush against him and began to heatedly kiss you, his soft lips crushed against yours. As you kissed, you could feel a bulge building in his pants, and as your tongues fought for dominance in each other’s mouths, you brought one hand down from his hair and began to palm his erection through his jeans.

He moaned against your mouth and bucked his hips. You grinned into the kiss and suddenly Dean was slapping your ass. You jerked, surprised, but it turned you on, and the heat that was already pooling between your legs became more intense. You needed friction. You started grinding against him. The two of you were breathing raggedly, grinding against each other like teenagers.

All of a sudden, Dean growled. “Enough of this. Where is your room?” He stood up with you wrapping your legs around his waist and you murmured, “Down the hall to the right,” as you kissed his neck and sucked on his earlobe. Dean groaned as he walked. “You’re killin’ me, sweetheart.”

You could feel Dean’s erection and you wanted nothing more than to take it in your mouth and get him off. But Dean had other plans for you. His hands were grabbing your shirt, ripping it over your head and throwing it across the room. His face darkened with lust when he saw your red lace bra and he eagerly pulled your pants down to your ankles, where you stepped out of them. Dean stepped back for a minute, admiring you in your lingerie before closing the gap between you and smashing his lips against yours, his hands coming up behind you and unclasping your bra. It fell between the two of you and Dean brought one of his hands back around and started fondling your breast. He massaged it, and rolled the nipple between his fingers. It was hardened, showing how turned on you were.

You decided he had too many clothes on too, and began to work on the buttons on his shirt, letting out a grunt of frustration at how many buttons there were. Dean chuckled into the kiss and deftly finished unbuttoning his shirt. He shrugged it off and followed it with his black t-shirt. He shoved you against the edge of the bed so that you fell back onto it. You watched him hungrily as he undid his pants and brought them down with his boxers. His erection sprang free, and you could see the pre-cum leaking from his head already.

Dean crawled on top of you and began kissing your neck and trailing down between your breasts, down your stomach, and down your leg, ending at your ankle. You had no idea how sensitive your ankle was to kisses but you weren’t about to complain. Your chest heaved as you silently begged for him to relieve your need.

Dimly, in the background, you could hear Dean’s phone ringing. The two of you ignored it as Dean pulled your panties to one side, exposing your drenched pussy. He groaned at the sight of it. “So ready for me, sweetheart. All that for me,” he muttered as he brought his tongue sliding through your folds.

Your response was instantaneous. Your hips bucked, needing more of that friction. Dean grabbed your hips and held them down as he sucked on your clit, pleasure shooting through you. You took one of your hands and fisted Dean’s hair, gently pulling and attempting to guide him. Your other hand went to your breast as you massaged it, desperate to find your climax. Dean’s fingers found your hole, and he slipped two inside as he curled them against your walls, licking and sucking along your pussy. You were close. You could feel yourself tightening, and you moaned, “Dean, I’m gonna cum!”

“Cum for me, baby girl,” he said. “Cum.” He took your clit in his teeth and gently rolled it around in his mouth. With that, your back arched off the bed and you screamed his name, waves of pleasure coursing through you. Dean finger fucked you through your orgasm, your pussy clenching around his fingers over and over again. His tongue lapped your juices, sucking up every drop.

Dean’s phone rang again. And again. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered. He got up and answered it. “This had better be good, Sammy,” he said angrily. He went silent as he listened. “Fuck,” he said. “Ok, I’m coming.”

“Sorry, sweetheart. We’re gonna have to pick this up later,” he murmured as he leaned over to kiss you. You grabbed behind his ears with both hands and held him in place, your lips caressing his. “Don’t go,” you pleaded.

“I’m sorry,” he groaned with frustration. “Trust me, doll, I don’t want to go anymore than you want me to leave. But it’s an emergency. Another person just died. I’ve gotta go,” he explained.

You sighed and released him. “I’ll be waiting,” you said, and spread your legs wide so he could get a good look.

“FUCK, Y/N. You’re - you’re going to be the death of me,” he stuttered. He got dressed, his erection at full mast. He tucked it into his pants with a groan. “Goddammit Sam, always the cockblocker.”

“I’ll be back, sweetheart,” he said. And just like that, he was gone.

Taglist: @katelynw93

[spookysweet-heart]

Don’t Board It Up

Commission: Yes!

Pairings: Natemare x Fem!Reader

Fandom: Youtuber Egos

Warnings: None

A/N: Thank you to @forbiddenstars​ for commissioning me to write this! I had a lot of fun writing this for you! Hope you all enjoy it! Collage was made by me! Edited by @semiproeagle​!

“C’mon, it’s my turn!”

“No way, it’s my turn! You’ve been hogging the controller for an hour already! Natemare said we get an hour each!” Natpai pouts at Bones, who just ignores him for a moment, continuing to play the game.

“I know, but I haven't died yet! That’s not fair!” Bones takes his arm back from Natpai who was gripping onto his sleeve.

“Quit being an asshole and let me play something for once!”

Phantom walks into the living room, ignoring the other two as he makes his way to the couch. Paying attention to his phone, he doesn’t notice Natpai sitting next to him right away.

“Ooh, texting your girlfriend again?”

“Dude, seriously, how many times have I told you not to do that!” Lightly shoving Natpai away from his side, Phantom goes back to texting.

Natpai rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest. “Yeah, well I wouldn’t have to if Bones would just LET ME PLAY!!”

“Hey, no yelling, that shit's annoying.” Looking over at Bones, Phantom sighs. “Can you let him play? You’ve been at it for a while now.”

“No way-” Bones is interrupted when the doorbell rings.

“I got it!” Natemare walks out of the kitchen, cleaning his hands on his apron.

“Mare! Bones won't let me use the Playstation!”

“Bones, what did I tell you! You guys get an hour each, I don't care if you haven't died yet, find a damn save and give the controller to Natpai!” Mare opens the door and looks over at Phantom. “You can help, you know?”

“I could, but they don’t listen to me. Besides, I have to study, exams are coming up.”

“Yeah, and I don’t see you with a textbook in your hands, now do I?” 

Phantom rolls his eyes, turning his attention back to his phone.

“Did I come at a bad time?” You smile at Mare while holding onto an empty tupperware in your hands.

“No, not at all. Oh here, let me take that back.” Reaching out to take the tupperware, he motions for you to come inside. “I just started dinner if you wanna stay for a while?”

“Oh um, some other time would be perfect, but I actually have plans with my parents for dinner.”

“I thought your parents weren’t living around here anymore? Did they come to visit?”

“Yeah, they got some time off of work to come down here today. They wanna catch up over dinner. You know how it is. My dad's probably gonna grill me on my grades, though. Kinda slipped up in math, but I mean it’s my last general course then I’m off to do my major.”

Mare puts the tupperware on the table that's by the door. “Yeah, right. Well, I hope your night is fun. I know mine will be with these guys.”

“Dude, you did not just turn off the PlayStation!” Both of them hear Natpai yell from the living room, making Mare visibly annoyed.

“I can tell. Thanks for lunch the other day, by the way. It was really good!” You smile up at him, feeling a little nervous.

“I’m glad it came out good. You and Bones both like the same thing, and since I had a lot of leftovers, I thought you’d appreciate it.”

“I did! Thanks again! Hey, maybe we can hang out tomorrow? I don’t have class all day.”

“That should be fine. I get off work around five, we can get something to eat near your place.”

“Yeah! That works for me! See ya tomorrow!” You give him a quick hug before waving goodbye.

Mare smiles, waving back as he watches you walk down the street. Closing the door, he takes the tupperware with him to the kitchen.

Bones walks in behind Mare, grabbing a cookie from the plate on the counter. Before he can take a bite though, Natemare takes the cookie back. “Hey! I was gonna eat that!”

“And now you’re not. Dinner is almost done, go set the table.” Mare checks the food in the oven and calls over his shoulder to Bones. “Oh yeah. You’re grounded tomorrow night.”

Stopping right as he enters the dining room, Bones turns back to Mare. “Seriously, again?”

Mare stands back up, grabbing the stack of plates that are on the counter. “Yes, again. Maybe if you listened for once and did what I told you instead of being a brat, then maybe you wouldn’t get in trouble.”

Bones rolls his eyes, taking the plates. “Whatever, since when did you get so parental?” 

“Since you started being an ass for no reason. You’re gonna apologize to Natpai later, alright?”

“Yeah, yeah. I am.”

“Good!” Mare ruffles Bones’ hair, turning back around to finish dinner.

After dinner, Phantom helps Mare clean up while the other two get ready for bed. He notices Mare being more quiet than usual. Picking up a napkin, Phantom balls it up in his hand and tosses it at Mare, catching him off guard when it hits him in the face.

“What the hell, Phantom?” Picking up the napkin, Mare places it with the rest of the trash.

Phantom shrugs as he puts another plate in his pile. “You’ve spaced out lately, especially after (Y/n) came by earlier. What’s up with you two?”

“Nothing's up. I’ve just had a lot on my mind with everything going on.” Making his way to the kitchen, Mare throws out the trash he collected from dinner. Passing Phantom on his way to finish clearing the table, Mare stops when he sees him giving him a look. “Seriously, it’s nothing.”

“I don’t think it’s nothing. I think you like her and don’t know how to confess.” Phantom takes the dishes to the sink to start washing them. “You can just tell her, I don’t think it’ll turn out bad.”

Bringing Phantom the last of the dishes, Mare carefully puts them in the sink. “Look, so what if I do? I can’t just confess to my best friend like that. (Y/n) and I have been friends since middle school. We’re practically like siblings.”

Phantom hands Mare a few dishes to dry and put away before he responds. “Is that how you really feel?”

“No, but it’s probably how she feels.” Mare dries each dish carefully, putting them away.

“Why not at least try? Instead of going to a restaurant why not just go to a park before the sunsets? You guys can just bring the food there, and it wouldn’t be noisy. You’d be able to talk and bring it up. It’ll be fine.” Handing him the last of the dishes, Phantom turns off the water and washes away any soap that was leftover in the sink. He glances at Mare who stares down at the cup he’s drying. “You have every right to be nervous, but c’mon, you've got this. When has being nervous stopped you from doing anything?”

Mare sighs, putting the cup away. “You’re right, I just don’t want to risk losing another friend.”

“Last time wasn’t your fault. Fallouts happen between friends, it's normal.”

Mare smiles at Phantom, tossing the rag over his shoulder. “Go to bed, it’s getting late.”

“You better take my advice.” Phantom smiles back at Mare before heading up to his room.

~

The next day after work, Natemare rushes home from work almost tripping over his own feet as he stumbles inside.

Bones looks up from his laptop where he’s sitting on the couch. “You okay?”

“Fine, where’s Phantom?” Regaining his balance, Mare walks into the living room looking around.

“He’s at Lexi’s, he said they were gonna study for exams.”

Mare sighs. Feeling exhausted, he runs a hand through his hair, calming himself down. “Right. I forgot he asked me if he could go over this morning.” Reaching into his wallet, Mare hands Bones a couple of bills. “Order pizza for you and Natpai for dinner tonight. I won’t be home late, but still.”

Taking the money, Bones shoves it in his jacket pocket, nodding at Mare. Relaxing back into the couch, he goes back to finish up his homework for the day while Mare makes his way upstairs to change.

After putting on his shoes, Mare picks up his phone and texts you that he’ll be there in a couple of minutes. Grabbing his jacket, he passes Natpai’s room on his way downstairs. “No fighting while I’m gone, you two!” Taking his keys from one of the hooks, Mare double checks that he has everything he needs before heading out the door. “I’ll be back later!”

“'Kay! Have fun!” Bones shouts at Mare as he walks out the front door. “Natpai! What kind of pizza do you want?”

“Anything but no pineapple or mushrooms!”

“Got it!” Bones takes out his phone to start the order when he gets a text from Mare.

“Don’t be a dick and order what Natpai doesn’t like. You did last time and he didn’t eat all night.”

Bones giggles to himself before he orders the food and makes sure he doesn’t do what he did last time since he doesn’t want Mare to scold him again.

Turning up the radio in his car, Mare drives off towards your place. His grip on the steering wheel tightens the closer he gets to your apartment. “There’s nothing to be nervous about, it’s just dinner with a friend.” Parking in front of your building, Mare turns off the car and sinks in his seat. “Yeah, a friend you have feelings for.” 

Sighing, he sits upright again, taking out his phone to let you know he’s there.

Leaning his head against the window, he lets his mind drift off for a moment. Thoughts start to race as he starts to forget his surroundings. Tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, thoughts of everything that could go wrong keep popping up, making him feel more anxious by the second.

Hearing tapping on the passenger window, Mare jumps, getting startled till he sees you waving and smiling at him when you get his attention. Unlocking the door, he smiles back when you climb into the passenger side. “Hey! Ready to go?”

Closing the car door, you put on your seatbelt, still smiling at him. “Yup! I’m honestly starving, I wasn’t able to eat a full lunch since I forgot I had a meeting with my professor today.”

Starting the car, Mare carefully pulls out of the parking spot. “Everything okay?”

“Oh yeah, everything is fine! Just going through the lessons again since finals are coming up and I just didn’t understand a few things.”

Mare nods in response, keeping his eyes on the road ahead. “You can listen to whatever you want. Also, I was thinking we could just pick up the food and take it to the park nearby. What do you think?”

“Sounds good to me! I’m glad it’s still kind of warm out around this time.” Scrolling through your phone, you decide to put your playlist on shuffle for the rest of the drive.

After picking up the food, you two arrive at the nearby park. Mare takes the bags of food with him when he gets out of the car. Walking over to your side, he waits for you to get out. 

Double-checking you have everything in your bag, you step out of the car, looking around and closing the door behind you. Mare puts the alarm on his car and hands you the bag with your food. “Hilltop, or by the water?”

“Hilltop, I think it’d be nice to see the sunset today.” You both smile at each other as you make your way up the hill. 

Feeling the breeze pass by makes Mare feel a bit calmer about the situation. He was starting to feel like things would be okay, even if it doesn’t go the way he hopes it will.

Reaching the top of the hill, you set the food down on one of the picnic tables. Taking a seat, you two immediately dig into your dinner. If Mare was honest, he’d also confess that he was starving from not eating all day since he was feeling anxious up until this moment.

Finishing up your meals, Mare asks how it went when you met up with your parents the night before. You tell him everything, making him laugh over a joke your dad told your mom. Things were just like how they always are between you two, full of laughs and great stories to tell. 

Mare offers to throw away the trash while you go sit on the grass facing the sunset. He smiles softly as he makes himself comfortable sitting next to you.

Feeling the sun hitting his face as he closes his eyes, Mare takes a deep breath in. The nervous feeling slowly starts to build up again, but he pushes it aside as he looks over at you. “Hey, (Y/n)?”

Humming in response, you smile when you turn to look at him. “Yeah? What’s up?”

Mare glances down at the grass, realizing he’s been picking at it. Quickly brushing off the few blades of grass from his palm, he looks back up at you. “Uh, well, I wanna tell you something, and you don’t really have to reply to it or anything, but I’ve just been thinking about us. How we’ve been friends for most of our lives.” Mare’s cheeks start to turn a light pink and he’s too busy rambling to see yours are too.

“I treasure our friendship. You know I love hanging out with you and everything, but I can’t stop thinking about being something more.” Nervously, Mare bites the inside of his cheek as he lets out everything he wants to say. “You have no idea how much I’d love to take you out on dates, to cuddle up with you on cold nights, to be the person you’re always happy and feel safe to be around. (Y/n), I love you. So much.”

Gently, you raise your hand to his face and wipe away a few tears falling down his cheeks. “You’re always so sweet, Mare. I always liked that about you. Well, there’s a lot of other things I like about you too.” Giggling, you lean in and kiss his cheek, seeing him start to smile again. “To be honest, I’ve also been feeling the same way, but was afraid of ruining the friendship we have. I was fine with the idea of us just staying friends because that was enough for me.”

Mare holds one of your hands in his while rubbing his eyes with his free hand. Laughing to himself, he grins, gently squeezing your hand. “So, does that mean you’ll say yes to a date this weekend?”

“Of course! I‘d love that!”

Tag List:

@smolwash​

@huffle-princess​

@missrose-writes-stuff​

@wildspeciallavender​

@stuff-from-the-void-matron​

@justwritingscibbles​

@nekosounds​

@stretch-time​

@lady-bee-fechin​

[btsslowburnfic]

The Arrangement Ch. 19

Story summary: Desperately in need of money, you answered the questionable ad. AKA-Arranged marriage AU featuring Y/N and Yoongi

Chapter Summary: After the photoshoot you and Yoongi decompress

Previous Chapter here  AN: SO FLUFFY UGH

You slunk back to the elevator and just stood there for a second. What a weird day. You pulled out your phone to double check your work schedule and saw a message from Yoongi.

YG: I ordered pizza.

You smiled. 

YN: Oh yeah? Did you order enough to share? 

YG: *Eyeroll* 

YN: :D Where is this food? Apartment? Studio?

YG: Apartment. Photoshoots wear me out.

You pushed the button for the 18th floor. Other people got on and off as you made your way there; it was the end of the work day for most of the hourly staff. You finally arrived at your stop and headed left.

You opened the door and took off your shoes, immediately noticing the delicious odor of bread and hot cheese filling the air. You had been running around all day and just now realized, other than a few carrots, you hadn't eaten today. 

"Oh my God thank you so much." You declared as you walked into the kitchen. You eyed the box sitting on the counter and looked around for Yoongi. “Helllooooooo?”

“Good. I’m starving.” You saw him rise up like a reanimated corpse from the couch.

“You didn’t have to wait on me.” You reprimanded, even though you thought it was incredibly thoughtful. Yoongi just shrugged and walked into the kitchen.

You opened the box and handed him a plate. 

“I have no idea if you ‘ll like this.” He said as he took some pieces.

“I like food. My favorite food is the food in front of me.” You took the plate over to the table, going back for some water.

Yoongi followed suit, quieter than normal. 

“You ok?” You asked.

“Yeah, just tired. Photoshoots take so much more energy.” He collapsed down into the chair. 

The air was filled for silence for several minutes as the two of you stuffed your faces. Finally, you worked up the nerve to ask, “Sooooooo…...did you know Bongcha was asking you out or are you oblivious?”

Yoongi looked up, shaking the bangs out of his face. “I knew. But what should I say to her? "No I don’t want to go out with you" and ruin her day? Upset her at work? It would make things awkward for both of us. Nah. Just request another stylist for a few months.” 

You pursed your lips together in thought. “Why not just date her though? She’s cute. You guys get along. Why go through this whole elaborate contract scenario?” You gestured to yourself.

Yoongi sighed. Ugh he had been dreading you asking him about the contract. Things had been going so normal. He thought, stupidly, maybe he could just never think about it again. Of course with Namjoon and BPD up his ass he knew that was unlikely. He realized he had been quiet for too long.  “Look, If I actually dated someone I worked with and then it didn't work out, imagine the fallout. The scandal. The wasted time. Plus then I'd have to go on dates and stuff. I'm busy.”  

You rolled your eyes "We went to a diner the other night. And the grocery store." 

Yoongi blinked his eyes and stuffed more food in his mouth. “Not dates.”

You scowled. "You spent all Sunday driving a van and putting up with my family'

Yoongi chewed, taking as much time as possible to think of a response. “Yeah but I did that because I wanted to."

You rolled your eyes, “You're a weirdo "

"Says the girl who signed a contract to marry a guy she didn't know. And who doesn’t eat their pizza crust. Are you 5 years old?"

"Crust is gross. Anyways. I'm a very good judge of character, I will have you know." You pouted at having been admonished over your crust preferences.

"That's true. You could tell Namjoon was an asshole within 30 seconds I bet." He jested. 

"Haha yeah. I could tell he was  rich and full of himself by his demeanor and then when he opened his mouth, he confirmed the asshole part. And, I knew Alice was awesome within like 2 seconds.” 

Yoongi pushed his plate over a bit and interlaced his fingers. Resting his chin on them, he asked, “OK. So what was your first impression of me?” 

You laughed as you recalled sprinting in your work clothes.  “That you were busy. Very busy. And a little bit short on patience, but I thought that's because you were in a hurry.” 

“Sounds about right.” He took a sip of his water. 

“The second time I met you, you were putting on an act for Namjoon. Still not sure why... " You eyed him suspiciously. “You guys have a fucked up dynamic "

"You are right all-around there. Cheers." He lifted his glass in your direction."You did a great job today."

You scoffed, "I literally just pointed at things and handed you stuff.”

“Hey I've been to shoots before, you haven't. Today went much smoother than usual. “

“Really?” You rocked back in your seat.

“Yep.” He stood up and extended his hand." Do you want more? "

"Yes please. Thanks again for ordering. I didn't realize how hungry I was til I got home.” 

“‘Same.” He took the plates to the kitchen and returned with more food. Sitting them down on the table. He pulled his laptop over and looked over some things as you guys sat in silence for a few minutes. You scrolled through your phone, returning some texts from Jimin and your brother. 

"Do you want to go watch something?" he asked, taking you by surprise. 

You raised your eyebrows, “You're not going to work?" 

"I told you, photoshoots wear me out. I'm done for today."

"Yeah sure," you stood up and grabbed the plates. "I'll clean up the leftovers and get changed. Pick whatever."

You travelled up to the loft area about ten minutes later, much more comfortable in your leggings and oversized sweatshirt. 

Yoongi was waiting on the couch, the remote in his hand as he scrolled through the menu. You plopped down on the other end, covering your mouth as you yawned.

“Grab a pillow. You know you’re going to fall asleep.” He said without looking over.

“No I won’t,” You protested through another yawn.

He shot you a look that told you he knew you were full of shit and got up. He returned a minute later, throwing a pillow at the back of your head.

“Hey.”

“You’re welcome.” He sat back down, adjusting himself into a comfortable position.

You grumbled a thank you as you balled the pillow into a couch-compatible shape and leaned up against it. You pulled back for a second. It smelled just like Yoongi. This was his pillow. You looked over, his eyes were still scanning the screen.

“Since you’re going to fall asleep in ten minutes I’m putting on my favorite documentary.” He said matter-of factly.

“I will last more than ten minutes.” You declared. You heard a small snort come out of his mouth as he dimmed the lights and pressed play. You started to watch the movie and tried to pay attention, but your heartbeat was racing. You kept replaying earlier conversations in your head and also smelling the pillow. You felt like a pervert. The man across the couch was completely oblivious. You stared at him for a few seconds and realized that yes, you did like him. Well Shit. You didn’t have too much time to ruminate on this as your eyelids began to grow heavy. Soon you were passed out, just as Yoongi predicted.

Ten minutes into the NBA show he looked over, a knowing smile crept onto his face. You were out.

He took a deep breath. What the fuck was he doing? He tried not to think about it too much. Every time he thought about you and the contract it left him feeling weird. The thought that you were getting paid to like him and to hang out with him, didn’t sit well at all. But he knew there was so much more to it than that. He picked up his notepad and wrote a few lyrics, the movie playing for background noise at this point. 

After several minutes he looked at his writing. Satisfied, he stood up and slipped the notebook into a desk. He didn’t think you would snoop, but better safe than sorry. He looked back at the couch and smirked. He thought it was hilarious you thought you would stay awake when he knew better. He went over to the stuffed animal line and pulled out a Snorlax. Appropriate, he thought as he sat it down on top of your side. He snapped a picture. Sweet revenge. Stretching, he decided to head to bed himself; only slightly lamenting that he had given you his favorite pillow and now he would have to use the flatter one. NEXT CHAPTER

@lidda  @anpanman-sonyeondan   @firefairy1  @cuteipat  @sugaslittlekookies  @janeelizabeth1216 @deeepvibes @gxldenhunny @livelyjay @niniita-ah @bobbyboops @honeysunandsoil @deathkat657 @min-yus​ @or-worse-expelled7​