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luveline · 7 months ago

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hii hope youre doing well! could i request coworker!james where r comes in to work sick and he gets worried?

fem!reader, 1.3k

It’s getting old, the whole charade. James didn’t like you and now he does. You used to piss him off, now you don’t. Somehow, someway, he’s seen parts of you he couldn’t help but love, in your voice, how you talk; in your hands, your touch; in your emails worst of all. Who ever thought that James could fall in love on Outlook?

Dearest desk mate,

Where are you? It’s 9.45 and you aren’t here. You realise work starts at 8.30? Besides my worry, I need the invoice for Lang and Co. and Remus doesn’t have them either.

You’re my only hope,

James

You email back a stringy fifteen minutes later.

James,

I’ll be there soon. I can’t attach the file from my phone but I will send it to you the second second I get there, I know you asked meyesterday. I’m sorry for holding you up .

James reads your email with a frown. Your typos are unlike you. He wonders if perhaps you’re texting and driving, which is abhorrent, but you walk into the office a minute later, so you must’ve been responding to him as you walked.

You duck straight into the manager’s office. James can hear you say sorry before the door is fully closed, craning his neck for a good look at you.

Remus laughs shamelessly. “Worried about her?”

“About who?” he asks, even as his chair creaks and threatens to snap under his weight, leaning back to see you through the frosted glass.

“She’s not going anywhere now she’s here, James. Nobody stops by for social visits.”

James relents when he realises you may be in there for a little while. The rain today is aggressive against the window, condensation dripping down the windows to pool atop the radiators. You hate it; you love the radiators when they’re working in the winter, but sad summer days with rubbish weather bog you down. Either way, the condensation wets your elbows or gathers on your desk —it’s not nice. James grabs a wad of tissues from the box on his desk and begins his quick mission.

“Oh, my god. Jamie, you can’t be serious.”

“I'm avoiding electrocution.”

“You’re cleaning up for her,” Remus says, putting his face in his hand to watch him with a softer smile, “it’s nice of you, really, but you can’t expect me to pretend I believe you when you say you don’t like her for much longer if you’re going to do stuff like this.”

“Now say that five times fast.”

His heart drops when you clear your throat, caught, sodden tissue in hand. You don’t eyeball him, there’s no scorn, you clear your throat again and all but collapse into your seat.

“Hey,” James says.

You tip your head back. “Hi, James.” Your eyes are bloodshot, and, to James’ surprise, you aren’t wearing a lick of makeup. You look very pretty but very tired, too.

“You okay?”

Remus bends around the desktop. “Yeah, are you okay?

“I’m fine,” you drop your head back with some vertigo, and press your hands to your eyes. “I’m not very well, is all.”

“What’s wrong?” Remus asks.

“Just poorly. Um, I have a bad headache, and my ears are ringing, but it’s not unmanageable. I’m full of sudafed.”

“Can’t you go home? We can manage without you until you’re better,” Remus says.

“I had all that time off a few weeks ago,” you say. You’d been ill not so long ago.

“You can have some of my sick days,” James says immediately.

You rub your eyes hard enough to make James’ ache in sympathy. “Doesn’t work like that.”

“You really shouldn’t be here if you’re sick,” James says.

“I won’t get you sick, I promise. I brought hand sanitizer, I’m not sneezing or coughing, I’m just aching.” Your movements are lethargic as you lean back in your chair, the slow roll of your shoulders and the limp cross of your arms over your stomach hard to ignore.

James rounds the desk to chuck his tissues in the little bin beneath it. “I don’t think either of us are worried about you getting us sick, lovely.”

Your face crumples quickly and neatens up again just as fast. “My head just hurts,” you say, rubbing your forehead. You manage to summon a wobbly smile despite your pinched brows. “I’m fine, don’t worry.”

If it were Sirius, James would thrust a bottle of water and a pack of ibuprofen at him and tell him to chill out. It it were Remus, the expression would turn his heart, and he’d give his friend a good pat on the back. You aren’t Sirius nor Remus, you’re not so close to him that James knows what to do, but what use is he if he doesn’t try?

“Can I make you a cup of tea?” James asks.

“That’s cruel,” Remus says, “your tea is like milky disappointment.” He stands with a smile James hates, some playful conniving mixture with good intentions deep, deep down. “I’ll make it. James, why don’t you turn the radiator?”

“Is that okay?” James asks.

“What?”

“Do you think that’ll make you feel better, the radiator?” James asks.

“I can do it.”

“No, it’s okay, it hurts your hand. I’ll turn it up.” He weaves back in between your chair and the radiator. Your desk is close enough to be faced with your thighs, but James doesn’t get half as distracted by them as he does your twitchy face.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asks.

“You and Remus worry too much.” You give him the side eye. “Why do you care?”

“I think we’re a little bit past pretending we don’t like each other, aren’t we?”

He turns the radiator on with less struggle than he’s anticipating and holds his hand to the bottom until he feels the metal warming. “Tell me if that gets too hot for you,” he says, standing.

“Thank you.”

“It’s no problem.”

“No, really,” you say, rubbing the bridge of your nose, “thanks for worrying about me. I’ll feel better in an hour.”

“Did you eat breakfast?” He brings his hand up to wipe a stray fibre from your cheek, “Why were you late?”

“I…” Your eyes follow his hand as he lowers it. Emboldened, James raises it again, wiping at a phantom fibre. “What is it?”

“Little hair on your cheek.”

“I slept late, and I felt strange in the car so I parked for a bit, and… I don’t know. I should’ve stayed home, but you know what he’s like about sick days.”

“You feel alright now, other than the headache?”

“Just heavy.”

James spots Remus coming back and steps away. “You’ll be alright, okay? Don’t worry too much. Do some of the top spreadsheets and we can manage the rest.”

“You don’t have to do that for me.”

James does, really. Remus gives you your mug of tea and one of the plastic wrapped muffins from the kitchen, both boys keeping watch over you like a vigil. If you were well enough to notice you’d complain, but you spend the next few hours sipping at your tea as it turns cold, and nibbling at little bits of muffin, clearly tired.

You email James the Lang and Co. invoices four hours after he’s asked for them with a sorry and a frowny face emoticon. James wants to kiss you on the forehead, feels it so strongly it becomes a different kind of wanting, to look after you and for you to want him to do that. He’s in way too deep. There’s not much he can do.

“You want some more tea?” he asks, leaning over to grab your discarded mug.

“Yeah, please, Jamie.”

James’ fingers wobble around the mug.

Remus glances up from his phone.

“Of course,” James says, smiling, “coming right up.”

Jamie, he thinks. Friends call him Jamie. He can be your friend, he’d love to be your friend, but Jamie. Even sick, you say it sweetly. He trips over himself trying to get what you asked.

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter fic #james potter fluff #james potter blurb #james potter drabble #james potter imagine #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #james potter scenario #james potter oneshot #the marauders #marauders era #marauders

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marvelwitchergilmore · 3 months ago

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Let Me Prove It

Summary: Logan x Fe!Reader -> After months of grieving for Logan, he proves to you he's not going anywhere.

Disclaimer: Descriptions of death, blood, reader goes through grief of losing Logan. Angst, sadness, some fluff. There is a happy ending. Illusions to smut towards the end. Not Proof Read.

You could remember the day you fell in love with Logan Howlett.

It had been a rainy afternoon. Nothing grand had happened that day. The kids had been in classes all day, most exams were happening all week but by Friday, they’d all be over for the semester. There was stew, heating up on the stove, and you had been reading your book.

At least, you’d been trying to.

Often, your mind would wander off on its own and only half way through your train of thought would you realise you had boarded the wrong train and it was already moving. And just like a flash of a meadow, snapping past one of the compartment windows, you discovered you had feelings for Logan.

And watching him walk through the backdoor only a moment later, confirmed your thoughts.

“What’s wrong with you?”

Your train came to a halt and you snapped up, focusing on reality. “What?”

Logan grumbled. “Nothing. Dinner ready?”

“Almost. Storm’s looking for you, by the way. She wants to know if you can cover her class next week. She’s got a doctor's appointment and no one’s available.”

Logan still had his back turned as he looked in the cupboard for something. “Sure. What class?”

“History. What are you looking for?”

Logan didn’t fully answer you. He just mumbled a noise before pulling a small box out from the back and closing the door. Turning around he opened it up, took a cookie out before offering it to you.

“She got a lesson plan?”

Looking down at your book, you dog-eared the page. Sometimes, you’d use a bookmark but considering most of them would disappear without a trace and leave you fending for yourself to find your page again, hours after you’d read it, you gave up on them.

“Yeah, she’s already left it in your room.”

“Of course she has.” Logan took another bite of his cookie and rounded the kitchen island.

Your gaze followed him. Mostly out of curiosity. You and Logan were friends. Not best friends. But good friends. Well…

Good enough friends.

Could you really be in love with him?

Reaching up into the top cupboard, he brought down the set of bowls and took half from the top.

“You take the rest.”

And for the next ten minutes, you both laid out the table in time for dinner.

Then you watched as he helped some of the younger kids with their hot meals. Despite all of his grumbling and his small protests when it came to calling him the best baby-sitter.

Logan was good with kids.

Yep.

You were in love with Logan.

And just like how you could remember the day you fell in love with Logan, you could also remember the day he died.

It had torn you to pieces.

It still did.

It had been on a mission. You’d all faced worse before. And yet, somehow, nobody was prepared for what was about to happen. Everything blew up. Quite literally. You had been helping some of the kids to safety with Storm and Scott. Scott had left half way through, running to find Jean and help her. Storm had given him cover, as well as the kids.

And once you knew the kids were in safe hands on the jet, you ran back.

Only, when you got to the top of the hill, having skidded to a halt only to catch yourself on a rotting tree, you looked down to see for the first time, the image that would be forever imprinted in your mind.

Logan and Jean were at the bottom. Scott had made it just in time to hold his girlfriend back when Logan took the brunt of the attack. It sent him flying and when he fell to the floor, your gut twisted.

Usually, he’d get up.

But something was off.

He wasn’t getting up. Not as quickly, anyway.

And when he did, an attack came sooner than anyone else had expected.

Straight through his stomach and a second through his side, Logan was impaled to the tree before being torn from it, sent flying forward with the tentacle branches before being pulled off and sent flying to the ground.

You remembered screaming his name along with the others before running forward. Storm had made it there before you, but you were the first on your knees beside him, trying to check for any healing that was starting.

It wasn’t.

You heard the muffled voices of the rest of the team in your ears, fighting against your own heartbeat as you looked down at Logan. He was bleeding out and fast.

The bodies beside you disappeared and followed after the attacker and soon everything became…

Silent.

The ringing in your ears had stopped, your ears had gotten used to your own heartbeat, and you tried your best to focus on Logan.

His eyes were closed. Begging him through your own tears for him to open his, you took his hand. Feeling for his pulse, it was weak. And getting weaker.

“Logan…please. Please don’t do this.”

Then your hearing focused on his heartbeat. Each beat took longer to come after the other until finally, with one weak squeeze of goodbye to your hand, Logan died.

The hours that followed after that became a blur.

The man you loved but had never told had died in front of you. You had heard his heartbeat stop. You had felt his last goodbye. He never got any last words. Just one last touch.

And every night that followed after that, you re-lived it. Over and over and over again. Each night, the same. Logan. The branches. The blood. The pulse. The heartbeat. The touch. The silence.

Sometimes you’d wake just as he touched your hand, the ghost of a feeling left on your palm as you woke.

The others never bothered to ask. At least, not after the first time you had told them. The Professor had gathered you all in his office after everything had happened. And all you could think of was that Logan’s body was lay, lifeless, underneath the school.

He had asked you what had happened and, with your arms folded and your eyes on the ground, you answered him.

“He wasn’t healing. There wasn’t anything I could do. He died,” you explained before looking up at the Professor and giving him Logan’s time of death. “May I go now? I want to make sure the kids are okay.”

The Professor excused you and you left as quickly as you could, the door slamming a little louder than you had meant.

And for the next two months, you…kept yourself busy.

People talked about Logan, they were determined to keep his memory alive. But they didn’t have to go to bed at night, just for his memory to die again. Each morning, you seemed to wake up earlier than usual. And with the feeling of Logan’s hand against yours, you busied yourself as best as you could.

Grading papers, alphabetising the library, cleaning every possible surface including the ceilings, constantly doing the laundry. Weeding out the garden, planting some new flower beds. Fixing the creaky wooden board in the hallway, painting the doors and wooden boards between the windows. Trimming the bushes, scrubbing the pots (even the old ones that weren’t in use anymore).

You did anything and everything you could. Mostly to keep your mind busy but party because you hoped, if you tired yourself out enough, you might have caught a break. Made it one night through without re-living Logan’s death.

But all of that changed one afternoon when you were called to the Professor’s study.

Where you came face to face with…

Logan.

Everyone was confused.

Apart from the Professor.

And throughout the meeting you remained quiet. Obviously, everyone was angry at the fact the Professor had kept such a big secret.

“We didn’t know if it would work and we didn’t want anyone to have to re-live their grief.” The Professor explained. “It was a shot in the dark.”

“How is this even possible?” Storm asked as she sat down.

“It seems Logan’s healing abilities were simply weakened. He needed help to heal. Medical help that not I, nor I’m afraid even you, Jean, could give him. There is a doctor I know, based in Alberta. She helped boost Logan’s healing factor and made sure that whatever had weakened him was no longer in his system.”

There was a little more explaining to do, but you could feel yourself drifting from the conversation. You just kept looking at Logan as he stood by the window and the Professor’s desk.

He had his back turned when you had walked inside, the others all looking confused and annoyed, having to wait for you before they got their explanation.

He had died.

You had seen him die.

You had felt him die.

And yet, there he stood. His hands in his pockets, looking around the room, breathing and living as if nothing had even happened.

Not long after all the explanations, everyone got to voice their opinion and you came last. Everyone looked at you, including Logan.

And all you wanted to do was run.

To him or away from him, you couldn’t quite tell.

So, with a breath, you forced a half smile and nodded. “It’s good to have you back. Professor, may I go? I’ve got a class that’s about to start.”

“Of…of course. I would have thought-”

Reaching for the door, you looked back. “See you round, Logan.”

Just before you closed the door, you heard Storm announce her way to Logan to give him a hug. But even the Professor couldn’t concentrate on that because he couldn’t help but notice there was something different about you.

Of course, he’d noticed you’d been keeping yourself busy. Missing out on family dinners, eating yours when you found the time later on in the evening, cleaning up the classrooms after hours, doing a little touch ups here and there with a smaller paint can and paintbrush.

Little did he know, you had just been filling in the spots you had missed the day before.

But he had figured you had been like the others. Itching to hug Logan. Being glad he was alive and breathing.

Instead…

You had barely said two words and had left as soon as you could.

“Are you okay?” Storm asked you later that night when you were cooking dinner.

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Storm lifted herself onto a stool opposite you. “I don’t know. You just didn’t seem…excited about Logan being back.”

“Of course I’m excited he’s back.”

“Then would it kill you to show it?” Storm asked, half jokingly. “Here, let me help.”

You shook your head. “It’s okay, I’m almost done.”

Storm moved her hands away from your chopping board slowly. “Okay. Are you sure you’re okay?”

You smiled. “Ororo, I’m fine. Scouts honour. It’s just…”

“Just what?”

You shrugged, forcing your mind back to reality. “Nothing. It’s just been a long day, s’all.”

Later that evening, you found yourself alone in your classroom. The others were down the hall having dinner but you had found yourself something to do. You could have gone down but whether out of habit of the last two months or fear, you didn’t wish to join them.

Your appetite had already been worse for wear over the last couple of weeks. If you were sat at the table, across from Logan, you wouldn’t have been able to even think about eating.

So, taking another bite of your sandwich, you turned back to your essays.

Meanwhile, back in the kitchen, Logan looked around the table. You were missing.

“Whose turn was it to cook tonight?” Logan asked.

“Y/n’s.” Jean told him. “She’s been making most of the meals lately. Guess she just got the cooking bug.”

“But she’s not here.”

Jean shrugged it off. “She’ll probably get some later.”

“Where is she?” He asked as he went to stand. But Jean stopped him.

“Oh, no. Stay. Come on, Everyone needs to catch up.”

“Catch up on what?” Logan asked. “I’ve been in a hospital in Alberta for two months.”

“Please, just…stay. Besides, Y/n’ll appear when she wants. She’s probably busy.”

And after a little bit more convincing, Logan stayed. You’d left so abruptly that morning, he questioned if you even wanted to see him at all.

It continued like that for a week.

At first, Logan tried to convince himself you weren’t avoiding him. But as the week went on and he began to see less of you inside his routine, he knew you had to be.

And then he began to notice things.

Everything seemed cleaner than when he had left. And brighter. Fresher, even. The doors had been given a paint job. Despite it being dry, he could still smell the aroma of fresh paint in the air. The halls were less creaky when he walked down them. The cupboards were tidier. He could find his cookies with ease now.

And despite the fact he didn’t read all that much, he knew the library had changed. Even the books that no-one ever touched. There wasn’t a speck of dust to be seen near them. And one of his personal favourites – a book he tended to read around winter, where the cover was falling off and the pages were falling apart – had been binded to look like new.

So, taking action into his own hands, he went to look for you.

And it wasn’t long before he found you.

You had escaped him when he saw you planting fresh flowers in the garden, and you had escaped him when you had brought in the groceries having used Storm as a distraction for you to slip out of the kitchen once everything was away.

But he had found you in the library.

Once again, you hadn’t come to dinner, making up an excuse that you needed to work. And Logan knew for a fact you hadn’t left to come and get your dinner yet so, he brought it to you.

“Thought you might be hungry.”

You looked up but Logan had already heard the change in your pulse.

“Oh…thanks. You can just leave it there.”

And he did.

“You’ve got to eat at some point.”

“I will,” you looked back up at him. “Soon. I promise.”

This was the longest conversation you’d both had since he got back. So, he took a seat across from you.

“What are you working on?”

“Work.”

Logan smiled. “Funny.”

Then the silence washed over you both. But he didn’t want it to stick. “Y/n?”

You hummed a response.

“Can you look at me?”

Your heartbeat seemed to jump and you took in a discrete breath. Finally seeing your face, Logan smiled.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

“I’ve not been avoiding you.” You looked back at your work.

“Yes, you have.”

“What makes you say that?”

Logan gave you a list. “The constant work, the avoidance of dinners, the silent treatment. Did I do something?”

You shook your head. “You haven’t done anything, Logan.”

“Then can you look at me when you tell me that so I might believe you.”

Finally, you looked at him.

“Tell me what’s going on?”

“Nothing’s going on.”

Logan asked again. “What’s going on?”

You laughed, nervously. “Nothing’s going on. Logan, I’m fine.”

“Are you? Because you’ve been avoiding me since I got back and- what? What is it?”

You laughed again, except this time you didn’t know how you’d describe it.

“‘Got back’ you repeated his words. “You say that as if you left for a vacation. You died, Logan. Or did you forget that?”

“No. Y/n. What’s going on?”

You shook your head and packed away your things as quickly as you could. “Forget I said anything. Thanks for dinner.”

“You didn’t even eat-” Logan watched you walk away from him again.

He’d rather have you fight him than avoid him, so he pressed on.

“Talk to me.” Logan followed after you. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing. It’s late, Logan. Go to bed.”

“Only when you do.”

“What?” You asked.

“Your bedroom, it’s upstairs, down the hall from mine. In the opposite direction. The only thing this way is your classroom.”

“I’ve got to finish grading.”

“It’s almost midnight.”

You shrugged. “What teacher doesn’t get enough sleep?”

“Something is going on. Something has been going on. For a while. Please,” Logan begged. “Just tell me what it is.”

You stopped in your tracks. “Do you really want to know what it is?”

“Yes.” Logan nodded, stopping in front of you.

“Okay then, I’ll tell you.”

And you did.

“I watched you die, Logan. I heard your heart stop. I watched as blood pooled out of your body with no way for me to stop it. Even after three scalding hot showers, I still had your bloodstains on my skin, under my nails and on my clothes. Every night when I close my eyes, I re-live it. Everything. Every tiny detail. And the silence afterwards…it’s deafening. Sometimes I wake up, still feeling the pressure you put into my hand. Sometimes it’s still there hours after I wake up. I had spent every single day keeping myself busy, finding extra work for myself, just to make sure that I don’t start daydreaming about the waking nightmare I had to watch you go through. I had spent the last two months going over and over in my head what I would say to you if I ever saw you again. But I could never bring myself to do it, because I had watched you die. I had felt you die. So, please. Forgive me if I’m not jumping with joy because I can miraculously forget what happened, like everyone else.”

Logan let your words wash over him. No one had told him. He had a sneaking suspicion they hadn’t because even they didn’t know. Maybe they never asked. Maybe they just hadn’t noticed.

Gaining back your breath, you went to turn away.

“Goodnight, Logan.”

Closing your classroom door behind you, you silently locked it and pressed your back against it feeling your entire body start to shake. Slowly, your legs went from underneath you and you lowered yourself to the ground by sliding down the door. You tried your best to squeeze your tears back into your eyes with the heels of your hands, but nothing could stop them.

Not now.

Not when you had just admitted the truth to the one man you never thought you would see again.

Three times Logan turned back to your classroom door, ready to walk inside. But he didn’t know what he would say.

So he waited.

Back in his room, he waited to hear the door to your room close.

And after two hours, he finally did.

And before he knew it, his feet were carrying him towards your door. Only, he stood there for ten minutes, unsure of what to do with himself.

At some point, he finally knocked.

Turning off the tap by the sink, you hung up your flannel onto the radiator bar and dried off your face when you heard the soft knock at your door.

There was only one person who could have been up so late.

He knocked again after a minute or two.

And you opened up the door.

Whatever Logan had just semi-prepared in his mind, slipped away. He was going to say something. But looking at you, standing in front of him…all words failed him.

And the longer he stood in front of you, the louder the reminder came to you that he wasn’t dead. He was alive. He could be shot with twelve live rounds and the bullets would pop right back out of his skin. His claws would flare out and he’d be Wolverine. They’d retract and his skin would heal instantly. There would be no evidence that anything had ever happened.

Then six words slipped from your mouth before you could stop them. Before even your brain could register the thought.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.”

Logan felt his chest crack and his heart impale with pain.

Pushing the door open a little wider, his arms engulfed you in an embrace that would forever be imprinted on your soul. Your own arms wrapped around him, trying to remember the feel of him both physically and spiritually in case the day ever came where you truly would never see him again.

That if this was going to be your only memory of him, you could never, ever forget it.

Lifting you up in his embrace for a moment, Logan walked further inside your room, kicking the door shut with his foot. Even if no one else was awake, he didn’t want to risk anyone walking by. Clearly, no-one else knew what you had been living through in your nightmares. And he didn’t want anyone else to share this moment between himself and you.

“You spared me the pain of being alone.” Logan whispered into your hair. “I was less scared because you were there.”

“I couldn’t have left you.”

Your tears were back to rolling down your cheeks. “I’m sorry about everything you had to go through.”

Logan softly kissed away your tears, wiping the others away.

You took in a shaky breath. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.”

Logan shook his head. “You saved me. You stayed with me.”

“But-”

With both your eyes closed, and Logan’s, you felt his forehead touch yours as his hands cradled your cheeks. “I’m real, Y/n. I’m alive.”

You felt Logan take your hand and press it to his chest, over his heart. His heartbeat was mostly steady, if a little quick. Spreading your fingers across his chest, you felt it rise and fall with his breathing.

“I’m alive,” he kept repeating. “I’m alive.”

Logan’s breath was drawing closer to yours. “Logan…”

“Let me prove it to you.”

And you let him.

Capturing your breath in a kiss, Logan remained soft at first. He didn’t want to scare you. He didn’t want you to jump and run away from him like you had done only a few hours before in the library.

But then you kissed back.

So he moved his hands through your hair and over your body until you were pressed against him as close as you possibly could be.

Your own hands pulled him in closer by his neck whilst the hand he’d placed over his heart remained fixed in its position.

Logan was proving to every sense in your body he was real. That he was alive. Almost counteracting the memory that had been drawn from a waking nightmare.

And as he lifted you up, your back soon pressing against the wall, you and Logan knew he would be spending the rest of the night doing exactly what he told you he wanted to do.

Prove it to you.

As morning rolled around, you felt a warm body next to you, tangled not only in you but also your sheets.

Logan.

His arms practically caged around you, you recalled every single detail from the night before. Your argument in the hallways, the classroom, the knock at the door, the hug, the kiss, the proof.

And then, you felt yourself, for the first time in months, give a real smile.

Lowering your head, you buried yourself in between Logan’s chest and your bedsheets, feeling his arms tense at your movement, holding you in the bed without a way of escape.

And as your body reacted to his touch you realised something.

For the first time since his death, you hadn’t had a nightmare. You hadn’t seen his death play on repeat inside your head. And the touch you were feeling wasn’t in your hand but rather all across your body.

Parts were aching with a soreness you never quite knew was possible and later when you would look in the mirror, you would find fingertip bruises by your hips, love bites leading down your hip bone and on your inner thigh. Smaller ones were also dotted around your collar and neck, but a rather prominent one was yet to be left by the crook of your neck from behind where Logan’s lips would find themselves before you got into a fresh shower, Logan joining almost immediately.

But until then, you’d revel in the feeling of Logan’s constant heartbeat against your hand, and for a moment your lips as you kissed his skin. Before he woke up and proved to you time and time again how real he was and how much the memory that had plagued you for two months was something that, although wasn’t easy to forget about, could become something of a distant memory.

And for the rest of your lives, he would make sure to do exactly that.

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saerins · 6 months ago

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ᯓ ᝰ RIGHT HERE .ᐟ — touya todoroki

touya x female reader. content tags modern au, childhood sweetheart!touya, both are working adults, making out, mentions of infidelity/murder, he’s a tease. word count 1.7k

ᯓ notes .ᐟ haha can you tell i love touya too much rn ? just getting back into writing so have some of my touya :) thanks to any of you who read this <3

“touya, you’re gonna make me late for work tomorrow,” you whine, pouting as he wins you in yet another round of super smash bros. (and hence you’d have to stay up and continue playing at his behest.)

beside you, touya smirks, rows of pearly white visible while he clearly enjoys tormenting you. “weren’t you the one who said you needed a distraction?”

you grumble as you take the couch pillow and hold it over your face, groaning in frustration. touya’s right; you’d called him right after dinner, practically forced him to come after you figured out that you’re actually not as strong you thought and you’re actually still really upset that your ex cheated on you.

it’s only pathetic because it’s already been a couple of months and you’re still wallowing over it somehow.

“you know, i bet all that frustration will go away if you just let me kill that fucker,” touya tells you, flicking your forehead as leans forward, yanking the cushion off your face.

unamused, you deadpan at him. “yeah? then what am i gonna do when you’re in jail, huh?”

touya snickers, “aww, what? can’t handle being without me?”

in a strange way, your honest answer is definitely not. you’ve known touya forever. ever since you were five and your families connected at a preschool event. ever since your friend fuyumi introduced you to her brother. ever since touya confided in you how much he hated his father.

fast forward more than a decade later and you’re both sitting in your apartment, in a different state than either of your families, still as close as you were when you were kids.

you glare at touya, rolling your eyes before scrunching your nose and smirking at him. “actually, go ahead, i’ll go find myself a better guy while you rot in the cell.”

your best friend scoffs, cocking a brow and looking like he’s offended. “i off someone for you and you don’t marry me immediately? the fuck is wrong with you?”

the shit-eating grin that dawns on his face immediately after makes your heart skip a beat. yeah, you’ve always found him attractive, maybe even had a crush on him back in high school, but he’d always had girls after girls, and somewhere along the way you learned to stuff those flimsy emotions back down.

until you remember that he’s been single for a while now, and the fact that you’re both working adults with all the freedom in the world.

fuck, you really shouldn’t go back there.

“haha, funny,” you try to wave it off sarcastically. “says the one who told his ex that he just sees me as a little sister.”

he laughs, leaning back against the couch, a hand behind his head, abs sticking out from the edge of his shirt. it takes you a second to rein yourself in, not wanting to get teased relentlessly by him if you get caught staring.

“hey, she was getting jealous of me spending so much time with you! what was i supposed to say?”

yes, you’re aware. most of them were. most of the time you never told touya about any of that; of how his girlfriends were coming up to you, all insecure about your friendship and asking if you could back off. that was the most common thing among all his relationships: the girls’ pleas for you to keep a distance.

you did… the first few times.

and after his fifth relationship, you realised that touya would always pull you back close. would always end up breaking up with them if your friendship is causing them too much worry.

“you didn’t have to say anything, maybe you should’ve just kept your distance, you know? since most of them seemed to have a problem with it,” you comment, trying to act as nonchalant as possible, though even you don’t believe yourself.

a life without touya is unimaginable for you. even if you can’t really say the same for him.

touya sighs, shifting in his position before ultimately putting an arm around you, pulling you close. he smells like your soap and his hair against your face tickles.

he’s always like this; always touchy, always close. recently he’s been more than usual, coming over and sleeping the night (you never did anything physical!), chasing other guys away at the club because they’re not good enough for you.

and when he’s like that, you think maybe there’s no harm in letting those long-lost feelings flow back.

it’s dangerous.

he’s always like this. always way too much for you to handle. and yet you can’t live without him.

and then he does something he’s never done before.

you feel his lips on your temple, and you hear the chuckle reverberating from his throat. his left arm around you holds you tight, not that you’re running anywhere—you’re pretty sure you’re frozen stiff from the shock.

did that really happen?

“how can i do that when you’re the only one i want?”

you’re sure that’s his voice. it can’t be anyone else’s. but you’re not sure if you believe him. is he really saying what you think he’s saying?

slowly, you turn to face him, expecting him to wear that smug grin and tease you for being so gullible but it never comes. instead, you’re greeted with his half-lidded eyes, blue pupils staring at your lips like he’s hypnotised, his thumb caressing your lower lip from left to right like he’s trying to memorise all the grooves.

it’s so soft that you barely recognise your own voice when it comes, “touya, kiss me.”

and maybe he’s always wanted to, because he doesn’t miss a beat. the second you open your mouth, he’s giving you what you asked for, his tongue prying your lips open and he tastes just like the warm in winter mornings, like the comfort people always dream about.

mint. you can taste the sweet from when he ate it right before he beat you in the game. you can feel the cold on the tip of your nose from when you brush against the piercings on his nostrils. you can feel him carry you onto his lap, feel his hands wrapping around your waist. you can feel his heartbeat under his chest, under your palm, almost as erratic as your own.

were you really just upset over someone else?

every relationship you’d been sad over suddenly didn’t seem to make sense anymore. not when touya’s right here, lips locked with yours and telling you more with his kiss than you’ve ever heard from his words.

by the time you pull away, both of you are breathless, his hand on your cheek, lips softly brushing over your own like he can’t bear to be away even for just a second. you can’t bring yourself to open your eyes, half overwhelmed and half confused.

“fuck, did we really just—”

“shh,” you hush him, putting a finger on his lips, suddenly embarrassed. your foreheads are still pressed together, and you can’t see it but he’s admiring your face, holding himself back from just kissing you even more.

touya moves your finger away. he whispers your name in the most gentle tone you’ve ever heard, “does that mean you feel the same?”

you swallow the lump in your throat, tongue-tied and still straddling your best friend on the couch. you’re just a single impulsive action away from going all the way.

dangerous.

pulling back even further, you’re about to make a break for your bedroom when touya pulls you back, making sure you face him.

“no running this time,” he tells you, voice raspy and his eyes flicking from your eyes to your nose and your lips but mostly your lips. “i want you,” he whispers, and the minute you lock gazes, the answer has never been more clear to you.

“i want you too, touya,” you answer, both excited and afraid but he never lets you harp on things too much because he’s already kissing you silly, barely letting you breathe—you don’t have to guess with him; he wants you so desperately you can feel it in his actions.

“touya, we should stop,” you whine, knowing that this might be going way too quick yet you want it all the same.

touya shakes his head, big hands slipping under your shirt and squeezing your waist. “no, don’t wanna stop,” he whispers into your mouth.

he’s about to pull your shirt over your head when the loud shrill of his phone interrupts. he would’ve tossed it to the side if you hadn’t taken it and insisted he should take it. it’s from shoto, after all. (he doesn’t call often, it’s a complicated relationship.)

grumbling, touya leans back, keeping your thighs in place so you can’t move away. he’s smirking at you as he answers, “shoto, what is it?”

you can’t hear his brother over the phone. you can only guess snippets of the conversation from touya’s end.

“huh.”

“what for?”

“you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“yeah, yeah, whatever.”

when he finally puts it down, he pulls you close by the chin, a glint of mischief in his grin. “get ready, doll.”

“huh? for what?”

touya gives you a peck on the lips. “family’s visiting, a surprise or whatever. they’re already in the city.”

you blink, praying he’s not being serious and wishing it’s not what you’re thinking. “okay, have fun!”

“and where do you think you’re going?” touya laughs, pulling you back down after you barely got back up.

“go spend some time with them, it’ll be fun.”

“oh i’m sure it’ll be fun,” he smirks, typing something into his phone and sending the message before you can sneak a peek.

you’re almost too scared to ask. but you do. “and why’s that?”

touya chuckles, thinking you’re way too stubborn, playing dumb even if it’ll kill you. but he guesses it’s fine if he has to spell it out for you. “because i wanna re-introduce you.”

“wait, what do you mean?”

with a gentle smile and a poke on your forehead, he looks you in the eyes. “i’m gonna introduce them to my future wife.”

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reiderwriter · 1 year ago

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hii!! can you do 49 and 68 please??? i love ur writing so much btw

prompts: #49 - "I'm so fucking obsessed with you." #68 - "Sit on my face."

A/N: Thank you for much for requesting! Munch Spencer for the win once again! Not to sound like a broken record, but I think I'm physically incapable of writing a smut that I dont somehow become obsessive over 🫡 I hope you like it!!

Warnings: possessive Spencer, oral sex (f receiving), multiple orgasms, alight come play, penetrative sex, creampie, just some very obsessive writing ngl. 18+ MINORS DNI (that means do not interact for those of you who still don't understand!!)

You weren't sure if you were going to give into him.

You know it'd taken a lot of courage for the man to ask you out, you'd seen first hand that he threw himself head first into relationships, and that meant he was entirely careful about kindling them.

But you'd been so shocked by Spencer Reid's admission that he was romantically interested in you that you'd all but gaped at him the entire time he stood there talking you through it.

After he'd finished, you still didn't know what to say, you just knew that your entire body was aflame with the words he'd dropped in the space between you, and you were vaguely aware that your phone had clattered to the floor, forgotten.

“Y/N, what do you say? Will you let me take you on a date? Please?”

He stood fidgeting in front of you and you almost apologised but your tongue still wouldn't move accurately.

You swallowed, and calmed your heart from the tempest it was running through in your chest to answer him.

“I need some time to think. We work together, it's going to be complicated and I want to make sure I think this through.” He'd politely agreed to that and seen himself out of your apartment, having appeared on your doorstep at near midnight on a work night.

And two weeks later, you were no closer to your answer.

But Spencer seemed to have grown bolder in his advances. He seemed to have taken your entire plight of never realising he was into you to heart, though. Because you sure as hell knew where he stood now.

He used every excuse to put his hands on you.

He came up behind you, putting his hands on your waist as he slid past you, moving you this way and that to arrive at his intended destination.

You'd found that a most annoying male trait in the past, but when Spencer attempted it, you practically leaned into his heat, shivering each time his hands brushed you.

He'd taken to brushing your hair out of your eyes as well, tucking it behind your ear in front of others, and, embarrassingly enough, tying it up for you with one of his own hair elastics.

You'd frozen in the moment as you leaned down to examine some footprints on a case, complaining your hair was in your face as he immediately came up behind you and began gently pulling it up himself.

His fingers moved skillfully, and felt soothing on your scalp as he made sure to get every hair.

You couldn't even say a word of thanks as you sat there wondering what the fuck had just happened, and if anyone else had been witness to it.

Luckily, no one had, and you could only contemplate it alone.

And contemplate it you did. In bed. In the shower. In your sleep. You couldn't stop contemplating it.

You couldn't seem to step over the boundary of professional working relationship to more, though.

So you weren't exactly surprised when he showed back up on your doorstep a month later.

“Spencer. Did something happen?” you breathed a slow sigh as you opened the door to see him standing there, still and tense, as if he was ready to spring an attack at any second.

“I'm obsessed with you.” His voice was low as he took a slow step forward, letting his gaze rest on your lips, and not moving it as he continued his path forward.

“I'm obsessed with you and I've tried to show you that for the last month, and god, please you have to please release me from this if you can't accept it.” He took another step closer and then he was in your apartment and closing the door behind him, blocking out the cold that had your nipples hardening. You assumed it was the cold.

“I think about how you would taste daily, how you would smell, how you would feel wrapped around me, the sounds you would make. I think about any other man getting close to you and I feel angry and sad and my chest physically aches.”

“I think about how I could make you happy, how you'd smile at me every morning,” his hand hesitantly reached up to tuck another stray hair behind your ear as he stuttered through yet another confession.

He was close now, so close your back was pressed against a wall as you resisted your chest meeting his.

“I will leave and never mention this or touch you again if you can't take that on, but if even one part of you thinks this is an experience you want…”

You finally looked into his eyes as your fingertips rushed forward to touch him, darting out to feel his chest and press yourself further into his warmth.

The physical confirmation must have been enough, as in moments his lips were dropping to meet your own in a sweet, but still strong kiss.

He moved achingly slowly as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you further in to his atmosphere, taking each small caress as an indulgence, each run of your lips across his as a blessing coated in lust.

He went so luxuriously slow, that you had to be the one to pull him in closer, to give into the passion threatening to throttle you from inside out.

You tugged him back through your apartment to your bed, making sure to rid him of his coat as you went, lips still exploring each other as you did. His hands held you firmly, wrapping you up in a strong embrace even as you needed him to move faster, to touch, caress, tease, and pleasure you.

You pushed him away when your back hit another wall, only so you could get some air between you as you waited for the next logical step in the direction you were headed.

“Spencer, I want you to make love to me.” You always hated that phrase, feeling it was so cheesy and overly sentimental, and yet that was the only way you could describe what you wanted from him.

He looked at you and suddenly, it was as if a flip had switched inside him. His slow, discovering kisses became bruising and hot as he marked his way down your neck, eager to please and desperate to know all of you. Your body was another book Spencer needed to read, more knowledge for him to acquire and never forget, never let go of.

Gently raising you off the ground, he pinned you against the wall, as you wrapped your legs around his waist, feeling his notable arousal through his clothes. He began divesting you of yours, the casual t-shirt you'd slipped into after work being easy work for his hands, sweatpants following suit as he memorised every inch of flesh visible to him.

With two hands firmly cradling your ass, he made his way into your bedroom, and sat on the edge of the bed, you in hand. Your core rubbed over his cock, and a deep dissatisfaction crept up your body. You were empty and you wanted so badly for him to fill you.

Your need became a great force clawing at his clothes, rocking your hips into him needing as you scrambled button after button, wishing your hands would obey your mind.

He groaned under you, the sound catching you off-guard and flooding your panties even more. He caught your hips and steadied your pace as you worked yourself up to a high without ever having fully touched him.

“Y/N…” He breathed it out like a prayer and a curse combined, pushing your hips down tighter as he tried to put an end to your elicit movements.

“Y/N stop, I want…” His lips finally left your neck as he took a deep breath, opening his eyes to look directly into yours.

“Sit on my face.” It was a demand, one that wouldn't be ignored, and honestly, you weren't sure you wanted to ignore it.

He laid himself down more comfortably on the bed, pulling you down with him as he stroked small circles into your lower back.

His hands worked down until they reached the waistband of your panties, hooked a finger under them and slowly dragged them off your ass, forcing your hips up to get them further away from his prize.

“Please, Y/N. Please sit on my face.” You moaned at the request again, dropping one final messy kiss to his lips before climbing up and over his head.

You completed the job he started with your underwear, deciding to go the extra mile and discard your bra as well. He wrapped his hands around your thighs and shifted your cunt to better suit his own position, and you braced yourself as he pulled you closer to his devilish tongue.

The first swipe of it was so foreign that you almost bolted upright like a cat dropped into a bathtub. But he held you fast and pulled you right back down as he began his meal. He'd said his prayers, and now he was ready to indulge himself in the taste he'd been craving for the last month.

You braced your hands on the metal headboard of your bed, thankful that you lived alone as you knew there was no way of muffling the noises that were beginning to toll off your tongue.

Head thrown back in pleasure, it was all you could do to not beg him to never stop, to keep up your pleausure for eternity, even as he left himself unsatisfied and rock hard.

Everytike you pulled slightly back from the stimulation, he pulled you even further in, until you were sure he couldn't breath, his mouth and nose so lost in your heat and so intent on your pleasure.

You almost forgot it was his face below you, and started desperately riding him, grinding your clit into anything that would allow for some friction.

Every few minutes he came up for a larger breath, letting his fingers slip inside you as he explored your every reaction.

There was only so much you could take, and apparently tongue and fingers was just that step too far, as you let your body convulse over him.

He let you ride it out, drinking in every drop of juice that escaped you, finally getting that taste he'd become so obsessed with discovering.

When you finally pulled away, his lips and chin were slick with your arousal, and his face was awash with desire.

A tiny push had you on your back as he crawled up between your legs again, taking the time to unclassified his pants and pull them off, discarding them along eith the shirt you'd so painstakingly unbuttoned for him.

“I am going to make love to you, Y/N, and you are going to be mine. You'll always be mine.” His forehead rested against your own as he finally slid inside of you, sheathing his whole cock inside of you as it expanded with his intrusion, trying to find room for him.

He fit like a glove, provided the glove felt this fucking good, so warm and comforting to know he was filling you completely.

His thrusts began and you were almost overwhelmed by the sheer arousal he inspired in each heartbeat.

Wanton moans left your mouth as words failed you, tongue lolling about as you desperately wished he'd slip his head down to let you taste yourself on him.

“I love you so much, Y/N,” he said, tightening his grip on your hips so much you were sure his nails were going to leave tiny crescents carved into your very bones.

Your second orgasm snuck up on you, hips suddenly jolting up as if they'd a mind of their own, milking his cock as he whimpered at the sudden tightness.

“Y/N, I love you. I love you, I love you I love you so much,” the words were overwhelming as you struggled to speak through the after shocks of your climax, legs still twitching even as he spilled his seed inside of you.

“Now you're mine,” he whispered into your ear as he again found a stray lock of your hair and tugged it right back behind your ear, as if it would help you to see him that much clearer.

Your vision was already so filled with him though, that you were sure it would not matter how far he was or how obstructed your view, he would be the only thing you saw for the rest of your life.

Maybe you were a little obsessed with him as well.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fandom

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alrawabi-imagines · 19 days ago

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Complicated

Your roommate,Glinda Upland, was the most popular girl at Shiz and she was the stereotypical rich mean girl. Somehow you found yourself roommates with her,immediately the school felt sorry for her having to give up her private room. She hated you and the feeling was mutual yet you found yourself enchanted by her. Sometimes starting fights just for her attention.

You found yourself in another argument and as she turned her back you

"Why did it have to be your?" You mumbled quietly.

“What did you just say?” She inquired, her head turned back towards raising a brow.

"Nothing important,Gaaalinda" you rolled your eyes before turning your back to her. The blonde stepped closer, closing the gap between the two of you,grabbing your shoulder and turning you back to face her. The expression on her face was demanding, demanding you to repeat yourself.

“What. Did you. Say?” She repeated herself, her voice firm as she held the eye contact between you both. You pushed her hand off your shoulder

"Don't touch me" you walked off. She stood there for a long time, staring at you as you walked off. Glinda stared after you in shock and confusion. She was not used to people telling her what to do, especially when those people were ‘beneath’ her. She was more used to the other students tripping over themselves to get the chance to talk to her.

The rest of the day it seemed that Glinda was more distracted than usual, zoning out in class and just being all round quieter than usual. As class ended you walked over to the library. She began to follow you, keeping a good distance between the two of you so you wouldn’t realise her footsteps following yours and avoid her again.

Hours later the other students walked out of the library,which was soon empty,making it obvious that Glinda was staring at you from across the room. She slowly strutted over to where you were sitting, standing there and waiting for you to notice her. You proceeded to ignore her. Her staring eventually got on your nerves.

"What do you want?"

“What do I want?” Glinda almost exclaimed in surprise, raising her voice in your direction, “I’ve been waiting for hours and you’re sitting there ignoring me.” She looked you up and down, her nose crinkled a little, “And for what it’s worth, those clothes are hideous.” Why did it have to be her? Why? The spoiled rich dive,who looks down on everyone and everything. Why did she have to be the one you fell for?

"Well it's a good thing you're not the one wearing them" you said nonchalantly,still focused on writing down various notes. You could see her fuming,she was used to being the centre of attention, having everyone catering to her and giving her what she wanted. So why was it that you were immune to her charms and didn’t give her a second of your time? It seemed that every time she was around you, you managed to get under her skin in a way no one else had managed yet.

“Are you just going to keep ignoring me?” She huffed, continuing to tap her foot in irritation and growing more and more agitated.

"Just tell me what you want,I don't have all day" She huffed again, her cheeks flushing as she tried to remain angry, but the longer she went without your full undivided attention, the more she found herself feeling… insecure.

“Can you stop writing and look at me for five minutes? Seriously, what is so important in that little book that you can’t pay attention to anything else?”

"Is that what you want,attention? Seriously just go out there,they'll give you all the attention you want"

“I don’t need attention, I get plenty of that!” She replied, her irritation only growing as the words left her mouth. You closed the book and headed out of the library. Without being able to think, purely acting on impulse, she grabbed a hold of your arm and tugged you back, forcing you to turn back and face her. In one moment you turned,freeing your hand and pushing her. Not too hard,but made her stumble a little.

"I told you not to touch me" Glinda’s face fell,

“I don’t understand you,” She stated, shaking her head and taking a step towards you. “Everyone is always falling over themselves to give their attention to me, but you… you’re different,” A scoff. “I hate the way you get under my skin.”

"And I hate that I love you" your anger took over fully ‘and I hate that I love you.’ Her entire face flushed red and her mouth ran dry. She couldn’t speak, she couldn’t think, the words repeating themselves over and over in her head. Silence. "Seriously, why did it have to be you,the spoiled rich diva who thinks she's better than everyone else? The person who's completely blind to how much she looks down at everyone." You were still angry and just rambling. Glinda flinched at every word you spoke as if they were stabs in the chest. This wasn't the reaction she was expecting. In her mind, you were supposed to look at her and fall at her feet. You were supposed to give her the same treatment everyone else did. No, better. You were supposed to look at her like she was the centre of the universe. "You're such a selfish,egotistical vain diva. Why did it have to be you?" You saw her face and just walked away,not looking back.

Once you had walked away, Glinda felt her legs give out from under her and she dropped to the floor. No this wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. She was . Everyone was supposed to love, give her all the attention and affection she wanted.But you. You didn’t do that. You looked at her like everyone else. You refused to give her a second of your time or attention. And why did it hurt so much? You walked through the halls,your heels clicking against the floor as you made your way to your room. Despite this, she tried to look up and maintain a calm and collected front as she walked through the halls. Do not cry,do not cry! At least until you make it back to your room,Glinda thought.

The next morning Glinda spent a full hour at her vanity trying to conceal her red and puffy eyes,speaking out loud to herself so her voice wouldn't give away that she had been crying. No matter how much she tried to use, the redness in her eyes still showed and she huffed in frustration as she continued to try and hide the obvious signs of a sleepless night. She continued to apply copious amounts of concealer to her face in an attempt to hide the obvious signs that she had been upset. Glinda was used to using many different types of makeup, but this morning seemed to be a struggle. You had made it to class before she did,taking your usual seat. Glinda avoided looking in your direction as she headed to her seat and sat down, staring out the window instead. Glinda came in looking as flawless as ever. If anyone looked closely, however, the makeup that she had put on to cover the signs of tears was a little too heavy to be normal and the bags under her eyes would become visible on rare occasions. You overheard some of the other students talking about her,she kept an unusually cold expression on her face.

“Did you see Glinda this morning?”

“Yeah, I was just thinking about how much makeup she’s wearing,”

“Did she try to overdo the makeup to look even more attractive?”

“She looks more like a clown than usual,” The last one irked you,she was vain and a bit of a jerk but she didn't deserve that. You decided to change seats,using your books to smack the girl who said the last comment on the head. You sat down in the back corner of the room. Her eyes followed you to the back of the room. Why did you do that?

Glinda was lost in her thoughts, silently picking at her food but not actually eating any of it as her eyes darted around the hall, keeping an eye out for your entrance. Why would you, someone she had never seen do something like that, suddenly smack a girl on the head for talking about her. It just wasn’t making any sense in her mind. You walked in and were met by Madame Morrible,handing you a box before you got your lunch and sat down.Glinda’s eyes were drawn to you the moment you entered the hall. She found herself watching the interaction you had with Morrible as you were handed an unfamiliar box. Her curiosity peaked, the blonde girl picked up a slice of apple and pretended to focus on her food, not wanting to be caught looking in your direction like an idiot. The moment you stood up and left the hall, her body had the strange impulse to follow. Her eyes followed the small box clutched under your arm as she watched you leave. She quickly got up to follow you out. Glinda had no idea what compelled her to follow you, yet she still did it. Perhaps it was curiosity, or maybe something else. Either way, she was making her way through the halls, searching for you.

“Come on, where are you…” She muttered under her breath as she continued her search. It was taking a few twists and turns in the halls of Shiz, but Glinda was determined. She was used to getting what she wanted, and even if she didn’t know exactly what she wanted at that moment, she was determined to find you. She saw you turn a corner into the courtyard. You sat down on a bench in the corner,the box in your lap as you looked out over the small lake. Glinda took a moment to hide behind a nearby pillar to observe you. The blonde girl took a breath before stepping out and beginning to walk in your direction. What am I going to say? After what you said yesterday but you had also defended her today. It just didn't make sense to her. She knew she was supposed to be feeling anger or disgust after the way you spoke to her yesterday, but the fact you had defended her from those students was completely throwing her off. “Uh… hey…“ You looked up at her

"What is it now?" You asked but not in angry way

“I, uh, I wanted to ask you something…” she mumbled, looking down at the floor.

"Yes,I did defend you and yes I still stand by what I said yesterday. I still think you're a vain and shallow spoiled little princess"

“I-I’m not that bad though, am I?” She still didn’t understand her own feelings and emotions regarding the past day, and she was especially unprepared for you defending her while simultaneously still calling her a spoiled brat.

"You're only saying that because I defended you. So,what's with all the makeup?"

“Uh, it’s…” She hesitated “Um… I… I couldn’t…” she kept stumbling over her words, not knowing how to explain the heavy makeup she had on.

"Sleep?" Glinda nodded quietly, no longer trying to hide the fact that she had been up all night.

“It’s...it’s because of the things you said.” she mumbled, looking like she wanted the ground to swallow her up.

"At least I said it to your face,you have no idea how many people talk behind your back" Glinda felt a pang of guilt at your words, knowing you were right. She knew that many people talked about her behind her back, a small part of her just didn’t care. But for some reason it was different with you. You’d said what you thought to her face, you hadn’t put up any sort of fake mask before telling her what you thought. Like you had seen through her own mask. She remained silent. “I’m sure you followed me wanting to know what this is” You opened the box,pulling out a wand that looked to be made of blue tinted glass. With a wave of your wand a blue glow enveloping the tip,flowers started floating around in a line that you guided. Moving the flowers around Glinda for a moment before you set them down,some landing on her head and shoulders. Her eyes widened as she saw you pull the wand from the box, and a gasp left her lips as you began to control the flowers with a wave of it.Glinda stared wide-eyed at the sudden action. "Listen,not everyone is gonna to love you,as hard as that is to believe" you said,the last bit a little sarcastic. "Don't get too upset about it"

“Yeah… I know that…” she mumbled, avoiding eye contact again. Glinda knew you were right, not everyone was going to love her. Most people even hated her. But for some reason, she was hurt that you didn’t.

"So why are you so upset that I don't worship the very ground you walk on?" You asked seriously

“I’m not upset… It’s just..I’m not used to it, that’s all” she mumbled, her hands still fiddling nervously with one another. Using your wand,you formed the petals into a new flower in her hair. When you formed the petals into another flower and put it in her hair, her eyes widened slightly and she couldn’t help a small noise of wonder leaving her mouth.Normally she was looked up to as perfect and pretty, but she felt the complete opposite with you. She wondered if this is how other people felt when they stood in front of her.You watched her,wondering if she was going to say something. She didn’t know what to say. For the first time in a very long time she was lost for words. After everything that had happened in the past day, how was she supposed to respond? The silence only seemed to worsen the feeling, and the self-consciousness of having the flowers in her hair and the fact she was so tired and had so much makeup on. Glinda hated it. She didn’t like feeling this way and suddenly she hated the fact she had followed you out here. Glinda felt the first few tears fall before she could even stop them.She felt so pathetic at the moment, and the last thing she wanted was for you to see her crying. She attempted to lift the back of her hand to her eyes to stop the tears, but to no avail. The tears started flowing faster and her shoulders started shaking a little. "Hey,what's this about?" You asked,patting her shoulder. The moment your hand touched her shoulder, she only started crying more. She couldn’t do anything to stop herself from crying. Glinda, usually confident, was now breaking down in front of you. She practically shoved herself into your arms,making you hold her. Glinda continued to sob into your shoulder, clutching at the front of your clothes and holding onto you tightly. You lowered her to the ground,using your wand to make a sphere around you. It was like a night sky,dark with glittery stars. You rubbed her back,trying to calm her.Her body shuddered and her breath caught as she tried to calm down. But the moment the night sky appeared around them and her grip loosened, the tears slowed a little.The blonde didn’t say anything as you continued to rub her back, feeling her tears start to subside. The sphere combined with your gentle touch slowly began to calm her down, her eyes still red and puffy as she tried to stop herself from crying.

“I’m sorry…” she mumbled, feeling even more embarrassed now that she’d suddenly sobbed all over you. Even as she started to calm herself down, she didn’t let go of you. It wasn’t until she took a deep breath that she finally lifted her head to look at you, her makeup and face still a mess. You handed her your handkerchief to wipe her face,your handkerchief was surprisingly her exact color of pink. “You carry this around with you?” She mumbled, looking down at it. Glinda suddenly noticed the handkerchief was her favourite shade of light pink.

"Don't start" you shook your head. Glinda took your handkerchief and wiped away the smeared mascara and smudged makeup from crying. Glinda couldn’t help the small snort that left her as you shook your head.

Glinda let you pull her into a standing position.Her eyes were now dry, but Glinda knew her face was most likely swollen from the tears. This was completely embarrassing, but for some reason she couldn’t bring herself to leave or walk away. And she didn't let go of you,which made you confused. You had told her that you hated her but also that you loved her in the same sentence. You ridiculed her yet defended her when someone insulted her. The image of her perfection faded away and you had stayed now seeing the real Glinda. Despite it all you stayed,you saw her flaws and even expressed them to her. What really confused her was the fact that despite everything, you stayed and comforted her after she had completely broken down crying.Glinda was used to people sticking around her because she was pretty and popular, not to mention the amount of money her family had.But here you were in front of her, seeing all her flaws, all the mistakes, her self-obsession and still sitting with her even after she had cried and looked so messy. It dawned on her that you were the only one who told her the truth,you were practically the only real friend she had. It scared Glinda, having to face the fact that the most ‘real’ person in her life was also the same one that had insulted her. And the fact that she had suddenly cried in front of you and felt more comfortable around you than she did around any other ‘friend’ sent a wave of confusing emotions through her. And the very same person who had fallen in love with her.

“…You really fell in love with me?” She blurted out without thinking about it or attempting to hide her feelings.She then suddenly looked up at you with a serious expression.

"Unfortunately" you said with a small hint of a joke

“You don’t have to say it like that,” she pouted.Glinda stared at you for another moment as you jokingly said you ‘unfortunately’ loved her. She then smacked your arm with a huff as you laughed. “Stop laughing. I’m being serious” Glinda scolded with an embarrassed expression. She felt the colour flood into her cheeks again at the fact that you’d admitted that you were in love with her.

"I can't take you seriously" you laughed "you look like an angry pink cupcake"

“I do not-!” She suddenly stopped, realising that technically she did look a bit like a pink cupcake with a frown at the moment with all the makeup and flower decorations. Glinda’s face turned even redder at your comment and with another huff she tried to give you a glare. “Alright, I’ll admit I look ridiculous at the moment-” She mumbled “but how long have you been in love with me?” Glinda quickly tried to change the subject and avoid the fact that she did indeed look like a pink cupcake with a frown. You sighed,not wanting to answer. “Come on… tell me” she urged, leaning forward slightly.

"This is so embarrassing" you took a deep breath "Since the entrance ceremony" you confessed. Glinda stared at you in surprise as you admitted that you’d been in love with her since the very first day of her classes at Shiz.She didn’t say anything for a while, her brain still processing the fact that you’d been in love with her for months before she’d even realised it.

“How have I not noticed it before?” Glinda mumbled, her expression bewildered. She’d never thought of the fact that she might have had someone secretly in love with her.

"Again with the vain and shallow" you said as if it was the answer. "Then we became roommates and I liked you more but I got so mad at you because I couldn't stand to be that close to you"

“That’s the reason you kept insulting me and getting mad at me?” She asked, her voice and expression a little hurt. The moment you said you got mad at her because you couldn’t stand to be so close to her, Glinda felt stung.

"Yeah,I just couldn't stand to be so close to you. So I chose to hate and focus on every negative trait you had" you explained

“So let me get this straight…” her tone was cold as she spoke. “You were secretly in love with me and the only way you could deal with it was by hating me and pointing out my flaws?” The hurt on Glinda’s face suddenly turned into a frown.

"You do actually have some flaws,but yes that's the reason"

“But I’m not the only one with flaws here! You have flaws too!” You smirk

"Go ahead" you wanted to see what she had to say,moving closer.

“You’re bossy” she started off with. “And you get angry easily. You’re rude and you can’t handle your emotions-“ her eyes then narrowed slightly. She was slightly glad that you had encouraged her and that you were now moving closer. She was right,especially about the last part. “You have a huge temper and you’re stubborn. You’re impatient and easily pissed off. And I know you have zero sense of fashion” she huffed as she named each flaw. “And don’t get me started on how you never have any idea how to dress. I can guarantee that you have no fashion sense whatsoever” She huffed again, her eyes still fixed on yours. She was now standing directly in front of you, so close that you could feel her breath on your face. She stood there breathing heavily.

"Feel better?"

“Yes, actually. I do feel better” she said.

"We should head back,it's almost time for class"

“Why can’t we stay here and skip class?” She asked with a slight pout. You fake gasped "Glinda,how could you suggest that?"

“Come on, we’ve missed class before” she tried to make her argument, now giving you a pitiful puppy-eyed expression.

"I have,you haven't there's no we in this"

“You make it sound like I’ve never missed class before” she said in an offended voice, trying to make you think that she hadn’t.

"So what do you wanna do?"

“Actually… I have a couple of ideas of what we could do instead of going to class…”

"I swear if you suggest we go one some sort of date-" she quickly interrupted you

“I wasn’t going to suggest that!” She exclaimed. “I was going to suggest we go to the town instead of going to class. I can’t remember the last time I went to the town anyway and besides I’d rather do that then sit in a boring class for the next three hours”

"Fine,but if we get caught I'm blaming you" you joked

“Okay, deal. I’ll take the blame” she gave a small grin as she spoke, knowing that they’d likely get scolded for skipping class but not really caring.

“Let’s get going then” she said, holding back the urge to grab your arm and pull you along towards the town. Glinda walked with a slight skip to her step, feeling excited about the fact that they were skipping class. You made it to town,which was full of people walking around in and out of shops. Hanging out at cafes and restaurants,no one batted an eye at you. She was one of the most popular and recognizable people at Shiz, yet no one even looked her way.

"So,what should we do first?"

“Let’s go get something to eat” she said, her eyes fixating on a nice-looking little cafe off to the side of the street where they were walking.

"Sure,so do you have a plan for this date?"

“It’s not a date” she huffed as they started walking towards the cafe. Glinda rolled her eyes yet again as you jokingly asked if she had planned out a ‘date’.

"It's practically a date," you said,prompting her to finish her sentence.

“Well…” she looked at you once again and took a step closer, lowering her voice slightly. “Since a certain someone insists on calling it a date..”

“How do you feel about getting some lunch at this cafe and then… going somewhere private?” She suddenly said in a low tone, keeping her eyes fixed on yours and her voice now a whisper as she spoke.

"And what exactly will we do there?" You leaned closer

“I have a lot of things in mind” she answered, her voice now almost a whisper as her smirk grew even wider.

"Really? Do tell"

“I could tell you” she said, her tone now in a teasing manner, “or I could show you.” She suddenly moved her face closer to yours, looking up at you almost challengingly as if to say do you really want to know what’s on my mind? A light pink colour appeared on Glinda’s cheeks as she spoke, suddenly feeling quite flustered but trying to mask it. You smirked at how she blushed while trying to be confident. “Why’re you smirking like that?” She asked with a mixture of an indignant and playful tone.Glinda felt the heat on her cheeks increase at your smirk on your face at her flustered expression.

"You're just too cute"

“I am not cute“ she protested adamantly, her cheeks still a light pink colour as a pout appeared on her lips. Glinda suddenly decided to regain some of her confident composure as she quickly composed herself. You sat down at the cafe,both with drinks in front of you. Hers of course was pink. As you and Glinda sat in the cafe with drinks set in front of you both, Glinda took a sip of her drink through the straw. You watched her,taking a sip of your own drink. “See something you like?” She joked, taking another sip as she kept eye contact with you. You rolled your eyes at her. She felt a sense of satisfaction, realising that she was now giving you a taste of your own medicine after you’d smirked and teased her the whole morning.

"Do you always have to be so beautiful?" You whispered

“I could ask you the same thing” she whispered back, her facial expression now slightly flustered once again.

"Now you're just lying" you scoffed

“You really don’t get it yet, do you?” She asked with a slight smirk. “You’re just as beautiful to me as I am to you. It doesn’t matter that other people constantly give me compliments and not you” she said, her voice quiet but her tone firm, “to me, you are just… utterly gorgeous” You froze up not knowing what to say back. “Cat got your tongue?” She teased, leaning even closer and keeping eye contact with you.Glinda smirked seeing your reaction, noticing how you were now frozen and speechless after she had spoken her true thoughts.Her heart skipped a beat seeing how flustered you were suddenly, as she was not used to you being the flustered one.

"More like a pink witch" you chuckled

“Pink witch is slightly more accurate than calling me a cat, yes” She joked, leaning back on her seat and smiling at you as she took another sip of her pink drink. You finished up and walked around the town,dipping in and out of stores. There was a dress shot that she had dragged you into since she saw a sparkly pink dress. She had already dragged you into a jewellery store (”Which of these necklaces do you prefer?”) and even a flower shop (”Which of these would look best in my hair?”) amongst a few other shops. She immediately went to try on the dress,letting you take a minute to look around at the dresses. You stopped in your tracks at the sight of a white sparkly dress,tight and flowing sparkling from every angle like a disco ball. You hadn't even noticed Glinda behind you. She eventually appeared behind you, standing there in the dress and watching your expression, unsure of what had caught your attention.

“What’re you looking at?” She asked as she stood there silently behind you for a few moments. She walked over to the dress and picked it up, holding it up against herself to get an idea of how it’d look on her. Glinda then let out a small scoff. “White is not my colour” she said with a smile, knowing how easily the dress would get dirty.

"I know" you chuckled

She turned to face you, suddenly holding the dress against you instead.

“Try it on,” she insisted with a smirk. “I want to see if it’ll look good on you” She pushed you into the changing room before you could stop her. You changed and walked out to show her the dress. Glinda waited outside the changing room, unable to hide the amused look on her face as she pushed you into the changing room.Her gaze ran over your figure in the dress, noticing how the fabric looked against you and how the dress perfectly hugged your figure. “You look stunning” she said without looking away from you, her thoughts now consumed by the sight of you in your current state. “We have to get this for you to wear to prom” she said in a firm tone, suddenly looking you directly in the eyes.

"I don't know,I don't think I'll go" you confessed

“What? Why wouldn’t you go to prom?” She asked, seeming almost baffled by your confession. “It’s one of the most important events of the year!”

"Yeah,the event of the year and I show up without a date" you said quietly

“So you don’t want to go because you don’t have a date?” She asked, her tone now slightly softer than it had been before. Glinda now suddenly understood why you were hesitant to attend prom,the fact that you didn’t have a date to go to the event with. “I guess that does make sense…” she admitted quietly, her mind currently trying to come up with a solution.

"The biggest event of the school year and I show up without a date" you reiterated.After a few moments of silence, Glinda suddenly spoke up with a suggestion.

“Why don’t I be your date?” She blurted out.

"You wanna go with me?"

“Of course I do,” she responded without hesitation. “We are friends…” Glinda then blushed slightly as she realised how the next part of her sentence was about to sound. “… and I would like to go with you” she finished.

"So,is this official now? You know,us?"

“Well… I suppose it is now” she responded, a smile still present on her face as she looked into your eyes. “If that’s alright with you?”

"If that means I can kiss you now?" You asked

“Yes… you can kiss me now” she replied quietly, the smile on her lips growing slightly as she felt a mixture of excitement and nervousness. You leaned in and kissed her,your hand gently resting your hand on her waist.A feeling of warmth spread through Glinda’s body as you gently leaned in and kissed her, your hand resting on her waist.She allowed her eyes to shut as the two of you kissed, feeling your lips on hers and the sensation of your hand on her lower waist.Glinda placed her own hand gently on your arm, almost instinctively as she deepened the kiss.You pulled away “Wow…” she whispered breathlessly, her grip on your arm tightening a little as she didn’t want to pull away from you entirely.

"Save some for later" you chuckled "and for we're not in public"

“You’re right… I got a little carried away there” she responded, her hand still resting on your arm.Glinda suddenly realised that yes, the two of you were actually in a changing room in the middle of a public shopping area and therefore shouldn’t do anything that would cause a potential scene. She laughed lightly, amused by your words. "Let's get the dresses and head back" You made your way back to your dorm As soon as you arrived she threw herself down on the bed and kicked off her shoes, letting out a small sigh as she relaxed. Suddenly she thought about everything that happened,that you were now officially girlfriends.The fact that she was now officially your girlfriend was suddenly all that was on her mind.

‘Girlfriends’

Glinda’s heart skipped a beat as she thought about the implications and possibilities that came with now being your girlfriend. She couldn’t help but smile to herself as she thought about the fact that you were no longer just her roommate, but were also her girlfriend now.

She felt a sudden rush of adrenaline and confidence as she moved to sit down next to you,on your bed. As she sat next to you, she looked at you as if she was silently contemplating something, waiting for a small moment before suddenly closing the space between the two of you and kissing you passionately. She quickly pushed you down onto your back,all without letting go.Glinda was now laying on top of you on the bed, her lips still firmly attached to yours as she continued to kiss you. Her body pressed closely against yours as she held you down against the bed. You wrapped your arms around her waist,pulling her down and closer to your body.Glinda broke the kiss for a moment, catching her breath as she looked down at you between ragged gasps.You had one arm around her.

"We should do that again" you whispered Before you could respond, Glinda leaned down to kiss you once more, her lips finding yours and kissing you passionately. Glinda’s body was now pressed fully against yours, a feeling of heat and desire filling her body as she lay on the bed with you.Slowly, she broke the kiss, pulling away as she looked down at you, both of your breaths ragged.

“I could get used to this”

“Me too”

~~~~~

@s1xthirty

#wlw #glinda upland x reader #glinda x reader #galinda upland #Galinda x reader #wicked 2024 #wicked wlw #wicked x reader #wicked fanfiction #wicked #Glinda imagine

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bangtanficsforyou · 6 months ago

Text

Hello, Love (JJK)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: fluff, angst, probable smut (we don't know yet lololol)

Rating: 18+

Summary: You had a plan when you returned home, seven years later. However, falling in love with your sister's fiance wasn't it.

Warning: mentions of drug addiction, familial neglect.

A/N: Based on a movie 😏📸. Also, here's a post explaining why I disappeared.

Playlist | Patreon

“So you’re getting married tomorrow, huh?” the rhetorical question slips from your mouth with a smile. A smile that in every way looks, forced.

You don’t know what you were thiniking. But a part of you, just wanted to have a conversation with your sister. Maybe you had hoped for it to be like one of those conversations. The kind that you’d see in movies, taking place between two sisters, when one is about to hit a big milestone.

Maybe a little reminscing about the old days. A little recallation of the past times when you both got into trouble. Joking about the embarassing moments. A little laughter, a few tears and hearts filled with warmth.

“Yes, I am,” your sister replies without bothering to look up.

You linger at the doorway for a moment and then realise how stupid you were.

You nod, knowing very well that this is pretty much the end of the conversation–if you could even call it that. You let the door shut quietly and slip out of the room.

Tomorrow, your sister is getting married. Your elder sister, to be more specific.

She is getting married to the man she loves, to the man she has been in a relationship with for seven years.

The man, who unfortunately happens to be the one you have fallen in love with, in the span of these last few weeks.

Oh how did you get into this mess and expect it to result into anything other than heartbreak?

SEVEN YEARS AGO

The loud music playing through the speakers tempts you to join the ongoing celebrations. You look at the joyful faces of your family members and a smile appears on your face. Lord knows when you will be seeing them next.

“Please take care of yourselves,” you whisper, knowing very well that you should leave as quickly as possible.

However, your gaze lingers on one person in particular. Your father. Oh, how you wish you could just hug him once before leaving. But that might not be a smart move. Your resolve might weaken on feeling his arms around you. No, you cannot afford that.

You take a deep inhale and turn away from the wedding celebrations. You march towards the exit gate with hurried steps. Your feet however, come to a halt when you spot one of your friends chatting with some guy near the gate. Shit. You turn away immediately and flee the spot before she can spot you.

Once you’re sure that there is no way for her to see you, you release a sigh of relief. You have no idea how you’d have explained the bags and luggage you’re currently carrying, had she seen you.

The thought of that makes you feel more urgency to leave this wedding venue. You look around frantically hoping that there would be some other gate. You do spot one, however, there stands your father’s uncle’s son’s son, who has seemingly found this to be the ideal smoking spot.

A few moments later, you come to the conclusion that there is indeed, only one way to escape this place. You need to climb over the wall.

You find a quiet place, away from the crowd, that has very dim lighting. You throw your bags over the wall and wait for the thud to confirm that your bags have landed on the other side. Then, you roll the sleeves of your shirt up and get ready for the difficult part; the climbing.

Thanks to your experience with tree climbing, you somehow successfully manage to climb the wall at your second attempt. However, it’s that wired fence that causes you more trouble than you would have ever imagined.

Somehow, it gets stuck to the back of your shirt in such an awkward position that you cannot even grab a hold of it properly. The only way for you to get your shirt unstuck would be to pull the piece of cloth hard enough. But then you cannot do that. It will tear your shirt and boy, where will you go and change now?

Slowly, very slowly, you move the shirt, hoping somehow, it would get freed from the wire.

Okay, so maybe a little this side–a little on the other–no, wait this is not–

“Are you leaving or are you arriving?”

A voice speaks, startling you to your very core. You look up and feel extremely relieved upon realising that this man happens to be someone who’s completely unknown to you.

“Well as of now, I’m stuck,” you trail off, hoping that the guy would catch the hint and help you.

Thankfully, he does.

He gathers a couple bricks that were laying around and tip toes on them for his hands to reach the wired fence. Despite not being able to see how the wire has gotten stuck in your shirt, his hand somehow still manages to do the job smoothly.

Once you’re free, you’re quick to get down. Dusting off your clothes, you pick your bags up. “Thank you, for helping me.”

“Considering that you got down on this side of the wall, I’m going to assume that you’re leaving.” He observes.

You look at him for a moment and then nod. “Yes, I am.”

“Do you need help with the bags?”

A smile appears on your lips at his words, as you think this guy is a little too nice for his own good. “Sure, that’d actually be helpful!”

Nodding he bends down to pick up the bags. He’s surprised when he realises how heavy your luggage actually is. “Damn, these are heavy.”

“I know,” you glance at your watch. “Let’s get going.”

It takes him a split second to process as you start walking immediately after the words are out of your mouth, without so much of a second glance at him. Your quick movements make him trail behind you, as you make your way through the playground which connects to the main road.

Having given up on catching up with you, he looks around and sees a bunch of kids playing football on one side of the ground. While the other side remains occupied with kids playing cricket. The scoreboard catches his attention as it reads “6 required from 3 balls”. That’s intense, he thinks.

His eyes remain fixed on the match as his feet continue to move. The bowler bowls and he watches with excitement as the batsman flicks it for a single. As the strike rotates, the scoreboard now changes to “5 required from 2 balls”.

The second last delivery of the match and much to his surprise, it’s a full toss. The ball connects right to the centre of the bat and goes straight in the air. His eyes follow the ball and he watches with a bated breath as he waits for it to be either a six or a four.

His jaw drops open, when the ball is caught–by you. You aim the ball straight at the stumps and before the runner can reach the crease, the ball hits the wickets, dismissing the bails.

“OUT!”

A unanimous shout breaks out, celebrating the wicket. The tension breaks as the match is now in favour of the defending side.

Suddenly, the bags aren’t as heavy as they were moments ago and he rushes to catch up with you. “That was such a cool throw.”

“Thanks,” you shoot him a smile.

“Do you play cricket?” He queries, his eyes shining bright with excitement.

“I once used to. Nowadays, I don’t really get the time to play.” You shrug. “I love watching cricket though.”

“Did you watch yesterday’s match?” His excitement heightens.

“No I didn’t, but I did watch the highlights.”

“You missed one of the greatest matches of all times,” he shakes his head, emphasising his point with a dreamy smile on his face.

“I just don’t like watching ODIs,” you comment. “I think cricket matches should be of twenty overs. Four hours and the match is done.”

“I mean sure, T20Is are good, they are explosive in nature,” he agrees. “But nothing beats the longer formats of cricket.”

“Well, i am yet to get the hang of them,” you muse. “Maybe someday, I will get the hang of ODIs.”

“Maybe a India VS Australia match would do it for you.”

“Oh! I live for the sledging in India-Australia matches.”

“But then, the real spirit of cricket is in test matches! Five long days for one match and yet the match might be a tie. It really does test a man’s patience,” he speaks, his hands moving animatedly with each word. “Maybe that’s why they are called test matches, you know?”

“Kudos to the players playing these matches, because I do not have the patience to watch a test match. Can’t imagine playing it.”

“You should try watching a good bilateral series sometime, I bet you’ll like it.”

“Oh, I have definitely tried watching test matches before and I remember in half an hour, the scoreboard changed from 243 to 245. That was pretty much it for me.”

Your words cause him to cackle. “Maybe someday, you’ll realise the beauty of test matches, who knows?”

“Maybe. Someday.”

A brief moment of silence falls between the both of you.

“Who’s your favourite player, right now?”

“Has to be Steve Smith!” You claim proudly, without a second thought.

“Dude has got a bright future in cricket, that’s for sure.”

“I love how smoothly he hits those shots. It’s a treat watching him,” you add, your admiration for the young player visible in your eyes.

He hums and lets the conversation die as you both approach the main road, which is from where he assumes you’re about to take some vehicle to continue the rest of your journey. His assumption is proved right when you start waving at a taxi approaching towards the both of you.

“Airport?” You ask and upon receiving a nod from the driver, you start loading your luggage in the car. Once everything is settled, you get in as well. Locking in the door, you wave at him and ask the driver to get going.

He watches as the taxi sets to motion with a small lingering smile on his face. He is about to turn around and leave when the car stops and you poke your head out of the window.

“You want to tag along?” You ask loudly to be heard through the newly made distance between the both of you.

He is bewildered on hearing your words. “But the wedding---,” he points in the direction where the wedding ceremony is being performed, instead of completing his sentence.

“Are you the one who's getting married?” You answer with another question.

“No,” he shakes his head, eyes wide with confusion. How on earth are you saying this so casually?

“Then come along.”

He cannot see the whole of your body as only a portion of it remains poking out of the window and he has only known you for a very brief moment, but for some unknown reason he feels so sure that you must have shrugged as you said those words. And for some odd reason, with how casually you’re treating the situation, he feels the oddness of the situation fade.

“I cannot just leave the wedding like that,” he replies.

“Okay, then. Have fun.”

You do not sound disappointed at all. You sound just as casual, he thinks.

“Have a safe journey,” he yells, as you retreat back inside the car.

A faint, i will, thank you, greet his ears and he shakes his head to himself. You are something, he thinks with that same smile as he heads back to the wedding.

“Dude, I met a 8.5 outside!” He tells his friend the moment he’s within earshot.

His friend doesn’t look at him as his gaze remains fixed somewhere else. “Forget about an 8.5. Look there, there’s a literal 10 right in front of your eyes.”

He follows his friend’s gaze and it leads him to one of the prettiest girls he has ever seen, in his entire life. A ten indeed.

“Wow.” The breathless one word sentence escapes his lips without his permission.

His friend smirks at the reaction. “She’s the bride’s sister. She’s a model but is soon going to feature in some short films.”

The words barely register in his head as the girl locks eyes with him. Maybe he wasn’t discreet with his gawking, after all. What absolutely leaves him speechless, however, is when the girl gives him a shy smile.

The interaction isn’t missed by his friend as he whistles slowly, before murmuring, “Here’s to hoping you’re smart enough to understand what that smile means.”

#jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #Jungkook fluff #Jungkook smut #Jungkook au #Jungkook ff #Jungkook scenarios #Jungkook series #jungkook fanfic #bts angst #jungkook bts #Angst #Fluff #Smut #Fic: hey

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loveinhawkins · 2 years ago

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Steve doesn’t notice the answering machine for several weeks.

His time is split between the hospital and donating food and clothes; and when he’s not doing that, he’s helping put up missing posters for people’s loved ones.

It’s only when both Max and Eddie are discharged that he has a moment to even catch his breath—when, half-dozing on his feet, waiting for a microwave ready meal to heat up, he notices the blinking red light in the hallway.

He feels like he’s still in a dream when he presses ‘play’, hears his mother’s voice. There’s people talking in the background, the echoing, constant chatter of a hotel lobby. She’s laughing at something someone must have said before the answering machine kicked in.

She sounds… happy.

“Steve? Steve?” The rustle of the receiver getting briefly pressed to her blouse, a muffled, “Just a minute, hon, he might still pick up.” Then, clearer: “No, you must be out. All right, Steve, it was just to let you know that we’ll be home a little sooner than we—yes, I’m telling him, what do you think I’m doing?”

Steve’s thoroughly grateful that he’s listening to a message, and no response is required—can only stand there, jaw slack, at just how light his mother’s voice is.

“A couple of work things fell through,” she continues with a breeziness that probably means several major ‘things’ went disastrously wrong, work related or otherwise. But it doesn’t sound like she cares all that much; if anything, she sounds excited.

“So I thought we could—well, I don’t know how late we’ll be, but if you’re not too hungry, we could just order some pizza, lazy dinner? Plain cheese for you, right?” The distant ring of a bell on a counter. “Steve, darling, I know we haven’t been—” She cuts herself off with a sigh that’s gone too quickly for Steve to parse.

He hasn’t ordered a plain cheese pizza since he was 12 years old. But she’s trying, he thinks. She’s trying.

“Oh, we’re just checking out. What? No, I thought you had that bag. Oh, well, just—sorry, Steve, see you tonight. Love y—”

The message ends.

In a daze, Steve replays it once, twice—it’s on the third re-listen that he hears the mechanical voice intone what date the message was left.

See you tonight.

He inhales sharply just as the microwave beeps, and then he’s out the door, leaving the food to congeal.

He knows the route they would have taken. Plays it backwards in his head as he drives. Can see them in his mind’s eye taking the exit that leads into Hawkins—his mom berating his dad for not using his turn signal.

He finds the road. Stops. Gets out and presses his hand to the tarmac. He can feel it under his palm, like a scar.

The gates spread, at the end.

There’s no proof, nothing he can point to and say there, that’s what happened to them. Not a trace.

But he knows.

He knows.

“Okay, what’s up?” Eddie asks him three days later.

It’s almost funny, how little things have changed. Steve keeps waiting for a knock at the door, a just kidding! There’s no harried phone calls from their work, so they must have taken extended leave or—he doesn’t know.

He’s never going to know.

“Nothing,” Steve shrugs. “Just thinking if the kids want popcorn now or later.”

Eddie’s suspicion melts away with a snort; it’s too easy. “Stupid question—the answer is always now.”

“Yeah, yeah. Second cupboard on your left, Munson, knock yourself out.”

“What am I, the maid?” But Eddie’s already reaching for the popcorn, opening the microwave door with a clunk, and then there’s an abrupt silence.

Steve realises why a second too late. “Shit, I—sorry, lemme just—”

He picks up the plastic tray full of mouldy pasta and throws it in the trash—feels a prickle of shame as he does so.

It’s stupid that this is the thing that makes his breathing catch. So fucking—senseless.

“Steve,” Eddie says haltingly, like he somehow knows this isn’t just about being absent-minded.

“Don’t,” Steve says.

He knows that’s practically a signed confession already. But Eddie nods and even cleans the damn microwave without a word of complaint. Because the popcorn still needs to be done, and the kids are waiting, and they’re pretending, Steve thinks.

They’re all just pretending.

He loses himself in washing up, makes the water run hot and doesn’t wear gloves, lets his skin scald. They’d all ordered pizza, and Steve had hidden every slice he’d taken, torn them all up and stuffed them into a napkin.

He stops when he comes to a large plate with a floral trim.

Would she have picked this one? he wonders. The pizza would’ve looked pretty, served up on that.

And then, as quickly as that thought came, another takes its place. How dare she? How dare she think that a fucking lazy dinner would fix everything? Did she think he’d just forgive her, forgive them both, just like that?

But she never got the chance. He’ll never get the chance to—

A sharp, stabbing pain. Steve turns off the faucet automatically, sees that the plate has smashed in the sink. A shard of china in his palm.

Eddie’s voice echoes in the hallway. “Um, I called Wheeler? Uh, Nancy. She—she took them all home.”

“Cool,” Steve says, voice tight.

He knows that Eddie has entered the kitchen when he hears a shocked hiss. “Dude, what the fuck? You’re bleeding, wait there, just—”

It’s not a deep cut, Steve thinks numbly. He doesn’t know why Eddie is worried. But he lets him fuss, lets him gently pry the remnants of the plate away, lets him wrap a bandage tightly.

“Hey,” Eddie says. His voice is soft. “Whatever it is, we’ll fix it, ‘kay?”

Steve can’t look at him. Clenches his jaw.

“We will, you hear me, Harrington? I promise.”

Steve shakes his head. “Can’t fix—” he gets out before his throat closes up, and when he glances back, Eddie’s eyes are wide and fearful.

“What?” he says sharply, and he looks almost nauseous, like he suspects he’s about to be told that the monsters are back, that they have never even left. “What the fuck do you mean? You’ve got to tell me, man, just—”

Steve makes an anguished noise that feels like it comes from somewhere in his chest, and Eddie freezes. He considers Steve for a long moment.

“Okay,” he says, a wary placation. “Can you… um. Can you show me instead?”

Steve blinks. He flexes his hand, uncaring of the cut, and jerks his head to the hallway.

Eddie stares. Frowns. Then leaves.

He figures it out, of course he does. Steve just stands there, hears the click of the answering machine. He closes his eyes.

This is all that’s left; these are his scraps. A sigh he’ll never understand. An aborted, “I love you.” It had never come easily to her, but it had left her freely then.

Why?

A hand on his shoulder. Steve opens his eyes.

Eddie looks stricken. “Steve,” he whispers, then stops like he doesn’t have the words.

Steve can’t blame him. Neither does he.

“I didn’t—I didn’t know,” Eddie says. “Steve, I didn’t—”

“They were coming home,” Steve says stupidly, feels a bit like he’s twelve years old. “They were—Eddie. They were gonna come home.”

“Oh,” Eddie says, and it leaves him all in one breath. “Oh, Steve. C’mere.”

Steve falls against him, muffles something that’s half a cry, half a scream against his shoulder—and mourns the loss of a conversation he will never have.

#steve and his parents #steve harrington fic #steve harrington #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #eddie munson #steve x eddie #steve harrington’s parents #steve and his mom #steve harrington’s mom #steddie

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coloursflyaway · 6 months ago

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i'm finally going through the comments on heaven to no one else but me (i'm so sorry for the delay, btw, but i was gone over the weekend and you guys were SO sweet that i wanted to take the time to reread everything and make sure i'd respond properly) and i just had A Thought.

i've been putting charles through the ringer lately, which i love doing, because that boy suffers so prettily. but how about a fic in which through magical hijinks charles loses his memory, and edwin is the one left behind?

and charles is like he always is, which is bright and happy and clever and wonderful, and he takes to edwin like he did last time ("so we're best friends? that's pretty cool, i never thought i'd get a best friend this clever! how do you put up with me?") and he's the same, but also, he's not.

because all the time they had together changed charles, just like they changed edwin, and there is something impossibly nostalgic about seeing charles like this, like a snapshot of thirty years ago, but at the same time, it's the most painful experience of edwin's life, because charles has forgotten everything about what made them them.

the synergy isn't there anymore, the ease they usually move with together, the references to older cases and the inside jokes they have.

one time, edwin holds out his hand on instinct; charles asks, "huh? what do you need?" instead of putting their magic screwdriver into it.

edwin doesn't do it a second time.

and there is a beauty, maybe, in watching charles get to know him again, but god, it breaks edwin's heart every second of the way.

and they go through remedy after remedy and nothing works, and edwin has to face the possibility that he might still have a best friend, but he'll never get His Best Friend back, and it's not enough to destroy him, because charles is still there, but god, it is close.

(charles, at the same time, is baffled by everything edwin knows about him and how close they must have been and is this really everything, is edwin keeping something from him? did they - he can hardly think it, because surely it can't be true, this doesn't happen to him, he's not worth of this happening to him - kiss? is this why edwin looks at him so dejectedly when he thinks charles doesn't notice?)

and charles keeps asking questions, like he is trying to figure something out, until one day, he kisses edwin. straight on the lips, a hint of a question in the curve of his mouth, and edwin is both overwhelmed and devastated, because this is what he had been hoping for before charles had lost his memory, and yet he cannot enjoy it now, because it's not His Charles; and yet he cannot pull away, because it is Still Charles and edwin loves him in any way he can.

it feels like cheating somehow, but what if he'll never get charles back, what if this is all that is left of their friendship now?

so he kisses back anyway, and when charles smiles against his lips, edwin thinks maybe, just maybe, it could be okay.

only that a few days, or maybe a few weeks later, something happens and charles suddenly looks at him and he's Back, edwin can see it in his eyes, and -

-and how can he explain this to charles now, that he let himself be kissed by charles when he was not himself, how can he look charles in the eyes when he knows that he has taken advantage of him like this, has he gotten his best friend back now only to lose him again because he couldn't control himself around charles and-

-and charles smiles at him, says, "hi. good to be back. i missed you."

and he takes edwin's hand, who still cannot speak, cannot think, and presses a kiss to the back of it.

"guess i just had to start all over again to realise i could absolutely fall in love with you, huh?" he says, and he looks at edwin like he used to a week ago, like he used to a decade ago, and edwin is crying before he knows it, fingers curling around charles' to hold onto him.

"did you?", he asks, and charles just laughs, sweet and happy and safe.

"oh absolutely. although i think i might have started thirty-odd years ago."

#one day i will not only consist of thoughts about them but today is not that day #dead boy detectives #dead boy detective agency #edwin payne #edwin paine #charles rowland #painland #payneland #paynland #chedwin #charles x edwin #edwin x charles

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auspicioustidings · 2 months ago

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Kinktober Day 15

Moniker: Velikan Risk Level: Medium. Velikan is a permanent resident of the Kennel. Brief: Restraints, squirting Safeword: Refer to first brief. Velikan doesn’t talk. They’re potentially the deadliest person in the world, but we have never had a problem with them in the Kennel and they were the one that checked themselves in as a resident, so I don’t think you’re in any danger at all from them. Safeword out and I’ll shoot them if they don’t listen - Laswell

So far everyone had been pretty casual, but Velikan was in full gear including a hard mask with an oni pattern on it. You knew immediately that it would be staying on.

They patted a gloved hand on the bed and as you approached they stopped you to relieve you of the robe your were wearing, leaving you naked. You couldn’t see if they were looking at you, but you could feel it, your nipples puckering from what you were sure were eyes on them and your clit throbbing a few seconds later as you imagined their eyes going south.

The sheets felt luxurious enough but a little strange on your skin as you lay down on your back. You wriggled a little to get used to the feeling, trying to pinpoint what was strange about them.

Velikan said nothing, but they took the glass of water from the side table and spilled a few drops on the sheet. They beaded and ran off the side. Waterproof. The sheets felt odd because they were waterproof.

“I don’t know if I can… um… you know…” you mumbled nervously as your ankles and wrists were buckled into cuffs attached to the four corners of the bed.

You automatically tested them, yanking and finding they only had a little give. Velikan just let you lay there for a while, getting used to it. You thought they must be experienced, because if they hadn’t you’d have safeworded from how uncomfortable it felt to be so at their mercy. It made your stomach fizz not being able to move properly, not being able to fight if you had to.

After a while the feeling started to dissipate and instead the powerlessness started to feel sort of liberating in a way. You couldn’t fight this so nobody could blame you for not trying. Once your brain switched to that kind of thinking it was like everything untensed all at once and you melted into the bed.

Velikan only stood and, you presumed, watched until your body relaxed and only then did they approach. They had a clinical touch as their gloved hand ran across your clavicle and down to run their fingertips over one nipple and then the other.

Your body was so primed and tuned in to their touch. You hadn’t realised how much not being able to touch yourself or touch them back would sensitize your body, make all your brain power only focus on what was happening rather than always having to tick over with escape routes or contingencies.

Once they were satisfied that your nipples were at attention for them, they moved down to your belly and spent a great deal of time there, pressing against the fat and tracing swirls into the skin. You’d never really considered the stomach to be an erogenous zone but the press of leather glove was making you squirm and you choked an annoyed noise when you tried to close your legs to get some friction and the restraints stopped you.

It was maddening that you somehow knew they were smirking under that damn mask.

Only when your ankles were chaffed from the constant attempts to get any sort of pressure did they moved down again, fingers swirling around your clit, through your slit and probing inside you just as clinically as they had assessed your nipples.

You couldn’t tell if they were getting any sexual gratification from this because their touch felt like you were a puzzle to figure out more than a body to play with. The leather clad finger inside of you curled and poked and prodded while their other hand pushed down on the outside, testing different spots.

You felt like a science experiment and that was weirdly doing it for you. Fuck, were they all turning you into a sexual deviant or had you been one all along?

There was a spot they hit that made you spasm and had a sharp sound of surprise spilling from you. It was odd, you weren’t sure if it felt amazing or uncomfortable. It seemed to be what they were looking for though because suddenly that finger was jack hammering inside of you at just the right angle and you were straining against the restraints.

“Oh fuck, wait wait wait, something is- I feel-!” you babbled.

This did not feel like the build up you were used to. If anything you felt like that moment just before peeing where you had been desperately holding it all day. They pressed harder and you nearly blacked out at how sudden and sharp the fall was.

The scream that tore through your throat hurt when you came. Not a normal orgasm, not by a long shot. This was explosive, like there were other parts of your insides getting involved that you hadn’t known could. You looked down at yourself horrified because you could hear the splatter of wetness on the sheets, a lot of wetness, as they pulled their finger out and rapidly ran their palm back and forth across your pussy to sustain it for as long as possible.

You were soaked. The sheets were soaked. Fuck had you…? You looked at Velikan whose mask was as impassive as ever and they simply gave you a short nod as if to say ‘good job, now we know it works’.

They took a silk sash from their pocket and made it clear that they were intent on blindfolding you, giving you the chance to protest. You did not. This person was massive and imposing and yet you really had no fear of them at all. It was something in how they treated your body, oddly non-sexual even while you were still reeling from squirting all over the damn bed.

They started the touch again, this time that gloved finger soaked. It was different with the blindfold on, your cunt violently throbbing with every drag of leather against flesh since your brain couldn’t send any warning signals about what was coming.

There was a click this time when they got to your clit and a warm pressure. A tongue. Oh, the blindfold made sense now, they had taken off their mask. You wished you could see the face of this fucking machine because nobody should have a tongue so dexterous. Not even Soap had been able to flick his tongue so fast against you for so long.

When you started to build up again you strained against your hand cuffs, needing to push their head away because you screeching at them wasn’t working. If they kept going like that you were going to squirt all over their face.

Velikan did not let up nor did they pay heed to any of your manic warnings and soon they were content drowning in your squirt, free hand forcing your hips down so they didn’t miss a drop.

You expected the click of their mask and to be undone from your blindfold and restraints. A silly notion really, you should have known better. It wasn’t until a half hour later when you were cumming dry because you had nothing left to give that they relented and by that time it didn’t much matter that they masked up and removed everything because you were pretty sure you were too strung out to actually take in any visual stimulus or move at all.

To your knowledge they hadn’t gotten off. In fact they looked much the same as when you had walked in, not rumpled in the slightest. Before they left you for Kate to clean up, they caressed your cheek, their damp still gloved thumb rubbing against your cheekbone fondly.

“I um… thanks. This was nice. Probably not an everyday thing because I’m pretty sure I’m severely dehydrated but still nice” you said, stupidly proud of yourself for actually being able to talk to someone like a normal person after such an intense session.

You swore you heard something like a chuckle and then they booped your nose and left. Strange character that one, but their brand of fondness left you smiling for the rest of the day.

#mhairi'skinktober #look you can probably tell I am running out of steam but I am trying my best :')

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gadriezmannsgirl · 5 months ago

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Hello, is it me you looking for?

Girlieeeee!!! I want to make a very important request ✨😋✨ I need you to do a Pedri fic with the song ✨we can't be friends✨ I need to read something like that from you 😌❤️

Love you very much girlie ❤️❤️❤️

Wait until you like me again. I'll wait for your love... MY LOVE!🎶 I'm so deeply in love with that song, you wouldn't believe it😭

Warnings: I don't think there will be second part to this, full angst, Pedri is somehow clueless, reader is hurting and italics are memories

Can't Pretend -P.G8

Summary: You don't know how long you can keep your act up.

Your best friend, the guy you've known ever since you were two years old. The one who you could rely on, rant to and cry with, has just broken your heart once again. You stood there watching him kiss her as if his life depends on it, hugging her close to him as if he's afraid to lose her.

You wish you were her

It's then when you realise he was looking at you, you tight smiled and walked slowly over to him, your friendship wasn't the same since that day but right now you pushed it aside he had just won the EURO's with Spain, you felt happy for him and his achievement.

"Congratulations, platanito" You said softly maintaning some distance in between the two of you

"Gracias, corazón" The nickname had your chest tighten and you felt like crying, soon you felt his arms around you and you took a deep breath.

You had already made up your mind so you let yourself hug him tightly, some tears escaping your eyes; these being misinterpreted by tears of happiness.

"But don't you cry, I just cried enough for the two of us" He said as you crack a small smile

"Eres campeón de Europa" (You're champion of Europe) You said "How could I not cry if this is something you've always wanted? I feel so proud of you" You caress his cheek lovingly

"You've helped me through all of this too" You shook your head and was about to speak but no words came out, so you just wrapped your arms around him again and let go of the breath you were holding.

"Te quiero muchisimo, mi platanito" (I love you so much, banana boy) Your voice shook lightly

"Y yo a ti, mi corazón" (Love you too)

"Never forget it, please"

"You're my best friend until the day I die, I will never" He gets away for a bit before joining both of your foreheads "Why are you crying so much?"

"I'm just happy, that's all" You sniffed getting away from him, if you stayed one more second you will not be able to do it. "I'll go congratulate the others and then we will take a pic with the throphy, sounds good?" He nods

"See you in a few then" He said "Leila, vamos" He called his six months girlfriend over to congratulate other players and have some pictures of themselves with the throphy.

You dried your tears and walked over to the shark, who was watching you with a small smile

"Mi tiburón" (My shark)

"Mi pececita" (My little fish) He hugs you swinging you side to side

"Congrats, you deserve this win so much" Your voice was shaky

"We all did" He said and you nod "Will you be back?"

"I don't know" You whisper "But I'll try my best to keep in touch"

"I still don't think it's the best option" You shake your head

"Ferran..."

"But I know you need this" You nod thanking him "I'll always be one phone call away" You smile

"So will I"

"You won't stay for the celebrations?" You shook your head

"I can't" He nods

"See you later, then?" You nod hugging him once again

"See you later, my shark" You kiss his cheek "Love you"

"Love you too, little fish. Take care"

You go over to Gavi, Fermín, Lamine and Nico who are dancing and congratulate them with smile on your face and tight hugs. The first two also knew about your decision, they didn't question, they didn't cry, they just hugged you and wished you the best.

You then walked over the González López, Rosy and Fernando didn't know but Fer did, that's why he had this sad and melancholic look on his face as he watched you arrive

"Can't you reconsider it?" You shook your head

"This was a mistake" Pedri says standing up from the bed quicly searching for his clothes

"Pedri"

"We're best friends, we shouldn't have done this"

"You started it"

"And I don't know why I did it! But this can't happen again, we're just friends and that's it"

"Are you serious?"

"Yes, I am! We can forget about this and be friends, like we've always been"

"I have sat in silence for a long time, I can't wait for thim to suddenly like me again and then pretend nothing happened" You looked to the side watching Pedri goof around with Leila "He's happy now"

"What he did was wrong but I can't pay for his mistakes"

"You won't"

"I will be if I'm losing my sister"

"You'll not lose me Fer. I'll always be here for you but I need time for myself"

"I feel like I will, you don't even want to tell me where you are going to"

You sigh "You remember me saying of this famous program in this collegue I really wanted to go?" He nods "They let me in"

"In fucking Australia?! That's so far"

"You can still visit me anytime you want to, I'll keep in touch with you, I promise"

"Promises can be broken"

"I'm not like that and you know it" He sighs fighting the tears

"You want me to go with you to the airport?" You shook your head

"Spain just won the EURO's, your brother's a champion. You need to celebrate with him. I'll let you know whenever I land"

"Please, don't be a stranger" Fer whispers hugging you once again

"I won't, promise" You whisper kissing Fer's cheek.

You start walking before you turn around to watch Pedri laughing and smiling with his girlfriend by his side, he turns around and waves you over. You nod telling him you'll be there in a few minutes, he winks at you and you wink back at him. Soon, he turns around once more paying attention to the story his cousin is telling while you hurry to get out of the stadium.

You open your apartment watching all the packed boxes, his clothes laid on a box that Fer is meant to take later, your sister's helping you with everything and you know you shouldn't go there but you do. In there, lays the pink small bear he gave you at the feria, the small Barce shirt with the 8 fitting the bear in such an adorable way, you smile softly.

"This is ours"

"You won it for me so it's mine"

"I won it but I'm letting you have it everyday so it's ours"

You dig a bit more into the box and find the crystal sphere he gave you in Christmas, you shook it and watched the snow fall slowly

"You're a football player, of course you'll be faster than me!"

"Come on, mi corazón. I gotta give you your christmas present and if you're not fast enough santa's reindeer will take it away!"

You sigh moving your legs faster, running behind him "Liar!"

"So you don't believe in Rudolph, Dasher, Dancer, Vixen, Prancer, Cupid, Comet, Blitzen y Donner?"

"No?"

"Too bad they got me this for you" He lifts a bag

"You asshole making me run for it!" He laughs hard as you try to catch your breath "Did you seriously learned the whole 9 reindeer's names?"

"I did, for you. Yes"

You felt a tear coming down your eye, then you grabbed his 2002 hoodie, you were the first one to ever try a piece of clothing from his collection. You smiled remembering he gave it to you so you could fell asleep in his arms because of the thunderstorm

"Stop" The hoodie was ripped from your hands, you turned around to find your sister, Amelia. "You're only hurting yourself more"

"I can't help it, Meli" Your tears came out

"And that's why we're moving out. So you can pursue your dreams and forget about him"

"What if I don't?"

"You will, Y/N. I know you will"

You leaned down to pick your one year old dog, Zeus into your arms, he licked your tears away "Will I?"

"You will, now stop looking at those. We need to catch a flight"

"When is Fer picking these up?"

"Probably after the celebrations"

"Do you think he'll be mad at me?"

"Maybe he will, maybe he won't. But I know that you need to put yourself first from now on"

"Can I at least have something?"

"It wouldn't be ideal"

"Please, just one little thing and we'll go right away" Amelia sighs but either way nods. You turn around and grab a small bracelet he gave you a few years ago from his box; he's supposed to have the other half but he left it in your apartment some weeks ago before he left for Germany.

You looked at the pictures of you both from babies all the way to teenagers and to the young adults you were now. You sighed before turning around to face Amelia.

"We're ready" You grabbed your suitcases, Zeus's bag, leash and with one more look at your apartment you left, ready to stop hurting, ready to forget about an unrequited love and ready to start your new life.

°°° °°° °°° °°°

Taglist: @gaviymarcsbride @stuckinaf4nfiction @elijahslover @azzpenswrld @http-isabela

#gadriezmannsgirl replies #gadriezmannsgirl writes!#pedri x reader #pedri gonzalez x reader #pedri blurb #pedri icons #pedri gonzalez icons #pedri gonzalez blurb #pedri fluff #football players x reader #football players fanfic #football imagines #pedri

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eveningepiphany · 1 year ago

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welcome to the final show | H.S oneshot

my masterlist!

summary: you take a beautiful sign to the final show and have the sweetest interaction with harry. then somehow bump into him in italy 2 days later.

warnings: nothing but fluff, and a few little mentions of how he saved your life!

a/n: i am so fucking proud of h. i want to give him a hug more than anything. this is for all my lovelies who love hslot so fckn much it makes them ill.

also this is such an unrealistic oneshot but like that’s just the way for it ig

———

There’s a certain type of atmosphere that comes around once and a while. It’s rare.

It’s one that no matter how many photos or videos you take, you can’t capture it. One that no word has enough emotional range behind it to convey the feeling it opens up in you.

That is the only way to get close to even describe standing where you are.

You can’t lie, you had waited hours upon hours in the Italian sun just to feel the warm metal of the barricade underneath your palms.

You’d waited years just to get here in general.

When you turn your head to look behind you, you see tens of thousands of people there. Going from visible, overwhelmingly happy faces to a sea of tiny dots.

But you’re here. At the front.

You smile because you made it. This has, albeit dramatic, been a home to you over the past 2 years.

A creature comfort. One you followed every step of the way. And somehow you can’t believe you made it here, and neither would the girl back 18 months ago watching a pixelated Instagram livestream.

Standing in your outift, which took more rhinestones and glitter than you could ever have kept track of.

But you shined under the sun like a mirrorball, so it all felt worth it. Even though you swear there’s still glue stuck under your nails.

Your friends around you shared water, staying hydrated as the show starting neared. Wetleg had already preformed their final set. And tears had been randomly springing on you all day.

You heard the power in the crowd as they sung the prelude songs, goosebumps dotting over your body as you realise he’s probably able to hear it now.

Soon enough he’ll be looking at it. In all of its 100,000 people glory.

“You okay lovely?” Sofia, an Italian girl you’d met in the line checked in on you.

You nodded with a heartfelt smile. The whole experience was so bittersweet. Full of lasts.

“I’m okay. Just so so proud.” You nodded and she softly chuckles.

Her outfit was an electric blue that contrasted her tan skin, “I have some granola bars in my bag if you’re hungry? You should eat, we’ve been standing in the heat all day.”

Your best friend from your other side peered over, drawn back into conversation after being lost in the magic of the crowd surrounding her.

“On cry number— let me guess— 24 of the day?” She said it teasingly.

“Saying that as if you don’t already have mascara stains half down your face.” You grumble back jokingly, leaning your head back to look at the pastel blue sky.

You turned back to Sofia, “We’ll save them for after, maybe lay down on the ground and eat them or something.”

You only said no because you felt like you could probably be sick right now.

“Amore sciocco, troppo testardo il tuo bene, mio dio.” She mutters under her breath with a laugh, shaking her head at you disapprovingly.

“Trash talking her again in Spanish. God I wish I knew how to speak it.” You elbow your best friend at her quip.

You could stay in this moment forever.

As Bohemian Rhapsody begins playing you watch the sun go down, and in this very moment, It is your forever.

You live and breathe every second of it. All the way into peace piece, and as you’re gripping the girls around you for dear life as the lights start to dim along with the setting sun.

Harry coming has the arena screaming so loud it would have been heard for miles. He looks beautiful.

Like a shiny star up on stage. Blowing kisses and sending thank you’s to as many areas of the crowd be possibly could.

Mouthing words in Italian, causing Sofia to almost pass out beside you she screeched that hard the first time he did it.

And him counting in Golden with their language, speaking proudly into the mic— “Uno, due— uno, due, tres!”

“HES— WHAT THE FUCK!!” You’re laughing, holding her hand as she shouts frantically.

Songs bleed into one after another, going on your part from embarrassing screaming and dancing onto equally embarrassing crying.

The overwhelming feeling of seeing him so close— so damn close you can see each individual sequin on his silver outfit when his on the main stage at his mic stand in the centre.

You don’t even realise he’s doing a sign reading interlude until Sofia hands you yours from where it leant on the bottom of the barricade at your feet.

You were enamoured by him.

Taking the sign, your hands shook a little as he was on the main stage. Right in front of you.

His eyes are scanning the crowd, glancing over some signs and smiling.

“We have a choice tonight,” he begins, voice echoing through the speakers.

“we can either move quickly through signs, in which case, we’ll be able to give you some more songs!” An array of screams come from everyone, and you feel sick just at the prospect he was suggesting. The fact he could pull out any song.

He chuckles, walking further towards the area of the pit where you are, “Just an idea, just an idea!”

You’re pretty sure the girls are yelling something about him walking over, but you’re stunned at what’s happening overall, and you can’t even process what they’re saying.

But contradictory to what he’d just said. He stops a moment.

From his perspective, he saw a handful of very bright colours in the front of the crowd. One holding up an equally eye catching sign.

But he takes a moment to blink, focus in on the person holding it.

This girl has her eyes locked dead onto him, like as if he moves an inch— something could implode at any moment. Yet it somehow comes across in a flattering way.

And then he reads the sign.

‘you saved me. i cant thank you enough for that. BTW…’

His heart immediately pangs. Already too emotional at this whole event to be reading a sign like that.

You are in shock. Because he certainly just made eye contact with you and he’s been staring at your sign for a few good seconds.

“Can— wait can you turn that for me, love?” His voice falters a little.

As if Harry Styles just asked you to do something, you move with a haste you never had.

However you misinterpreted his question, turning the sign clockwise like as if it was upside down. Feeling a little embarrassed in yourself that it was around the wrong way.

He chuckles into the mic, causing a small uproar at the softness of it.

“Wrong way, it has B-T-W on it so I’m assuming there’s more on the back.”

“Oh, god— sorry!” You shout out to him, it sounding a little shaky, and you can’t lie that tears were threatening to spill from your eyes.

You had waited so fucking long to have a chance to tell him that he genuinely saved your life. And you’re finally doing it.

Also spinning the sign so the back of it is facing him, and his eyes flit gently over it too.

‘you have by far the prettiest smile ever.’ It reads, with a few large red hearts around it, decorated with glitter and rhinestones.

A dimple pops out on his cheek and he covers his mouth with a hand, flattered as ever.

“Why thank you.” He does a little bow as well, and you’re laughing out of shock. You’re interacting with him right now.

He straightens up, “I’m flattered as ever.” Prodding one of his dimples as he shows off just how pretty his smile is.

“And thank you for coming, it means everything to me.” He flushes a little, laughing at himself and your still starstruck reaction.

“You are stronger than you probably think. What’s your name?”

A tear breaks past your waterline, and you call out, “Y/N!”

Both girls at your side are clutching you like no tomorrow, and Harry takes his in-ear out to hear you better.

You call it out again, he makes only one off guess before he gets it. And your name rolling off his accent tongue makes your stomach flip.

“Y/N? That’s right— well that was a pretty good record for name guessing—“ he laughs, walking over as close as he can to the edge of the stage.

He holds the mic up to his mouth, “make some noise for Y/N everyone!”

You are in complete shock as you hear the whole arena cheer and holler for you, and Harry has this wholesome feeling of adoration wash over him as he sees your reaction.

The tears slipping down your pink cheeks. If he could, he honestly would go down there and wipe them off.

Not something he often find himself thinking. Yet here he is.

“Thank you for coming Y/N. What do you say we do some more songs?” He asks, smiling at the shocked raise of your brows.

“Yes, please.” You enthusiastically reply.

“Alright, you heard her. More songs it is!”

And so the show continues on. The second he breaks eye contact and moves away, a sob tears out of you.

You can’t believe that just happened. And the fact the rest of the show— unless you’re delusional, and making this up in your head— he lingers anytime he’s going past where you are. Catching your eyes, and smiling a little wider.

And you’re absolutely a wreck at the speech he makes, even though Sofia has to translate every word that leaves his mouth.

But if that nearly killed you, the piano ballad was honestly your final straw.

You cried so hard you couldn’t see the fucking stage at one point. And you wish you could say you were embarrassed for him to see you as he did one last round of goodbyes. But you couldn’t.

It was all your love and appreciation for him, poured out of you through the tears streaming down your face.

To your disbelief, he stops in front of you again, blowing a kiss to your friends and then one to you.

Bending down a little further to look at you, lips starting to move— from what your could hardly hear, and mostly got from reading his lips, he said ‘thank you, I love you.”

You blow a kiss back.

And before you know it, the show has ended. And there’s this full, yet hollow feeling inside of you.

Like you’re not sure how to feel. You miss him already, but that was by far the most amazing experience of your life.

You’re overwhelmed, with love and gratitude. And you, Sofia and your best friend end up doing what you’d proposed earlier before the show.

Eating chocolate granola bars with your back up against the barricade, tears still falling from your eyes.

———

Post love on tour depression is a real thing.

There is no normal explanation for having to force yourself to get up to have an amazing brunch in Italy of all places.

But 2 days after the show day, you’re doing just that. Dressing in a nice summer outfit at the very least, and taking your LOT bag with you.

The streets aren’t too busy considering it’s midday, and you make your way through them peacefully. Stoping to peak into stores, or take photos of little things you like every now and again.

And all your adventuring leads you to a beautiful little corner-cafe. One that the second you step foot into, you are comforted by its cozy feel & strong aroma of coffee.

The building itself had all its historic bones, but had been modernised. Fitted with sleek wooden floors and new furniture. Walls painted a crisp white to brighten up the already light filled room.

You find the menu hanging above where the counter is, on large pretty chalkboards.

You’re mulling over what to get when you hear a voice from beside you.

It causes you to jump a little at it’s unexpectedness, “I like your bag.”

It’s said with the tone that you can tell someone is smiling. And you turn to greet the person who had just spoken to you.

That’s when you’re met with a sight that knocks the wind from you.

Beside you— standing tall, with his tousled brown curls and rolled up linen long-sleeve is quite literally the man you saw on stage 2 nights ago.

“Oh my god—“ you jump a little at the realisation, it hitting you like a train within seconds. But you’re trying to keep you voice down, as to not cause some kind of scene.

He laughs at your stunned reaction, the way your ringed hand goes over your mouth. It’s a reaction he’s accustomed to. But the way your pretty features portray the expression has him all the more intrigued.

He does his classic introduction, “Hi, love. I’m harry.” Sticking his hand out, smiling. Like as if you didn’t know.

“I— well I did notice that.” You rush out in a nervous laugh. Glancing around looking for some kind of film camera, gauging if this is a set up and not a coincidence.

You’re left realising it’s just the two of you, and some older guy with a newspaper a few metres away at a window seat.

But no one with a camera or phone out filming this interaction.

You shake his hand after a moment of hesitation, telling yourself mentally you’re not going to cry as your relish the feeling of his calloused fingertips against the base of your wrist.

“Hi…” You flush profusely.

“What are you ordering?” He smiles at you, and your eyes are so obviously darting over his every feature.

Which you feel like you couldn’t stop from happening when he’s this close, and you’re able to fully see the plains of his beautiful face.

The structure of his jawline— that’s dotted with a light stubble—his cupids bow lips, the definition in his cheekbones. And fuck his eyes.

That are very intensely locked onto yours…

“Oh. I’m sorry. I…” you fumble for words a little, “probably like a tea. That’s usually my go to.”

He nods, “let me get it for you, please. How do you have it?”

“No, no. It’s okay, you don’t need to do that.” You insist immediately, because even though the gestures small, it feels like too much.

“Y/N.” He tuts gently.

“Weird that you remember that.” You think aloud, unable to filter the shock at the fact he just said your name. Even though the show was only 2 days ago, when he learnt it.

“Of course I do. You had quite the sign. I won’t lie, it made me tear up a bit.” He laughs, pushing a stray lock of hair out of his eyes.

“Well, It was true. Not to be cheesy or anything, but your music genuinely means everything to me.” You say carefully. Not wanting to come across as weird.

“And love on tour was one of the best experiences of my life. So… thank you for that.”

“Thank you.” He smiled at your shyness. And you recall the fact you told him he had a pretty smile.

Prettiest smile. The fact he knows you think that?

You wonder if he’s thought the same thing at all in the last 5 minutes.

“Your support means as much to me. Wouldn’t be able t’do what I do if it weren’t for people like you.”

“Now, how you have your tea?” He reiterates, asking for an answer, not for another polite declination.

“I— okay. Since it’s clear you’re not going to take no for an answer.” You sigh. Corners of your mouth upturning anyway at his stubborn ways.

You rattle off how you have it, and he nods, mentally noting it down like this is going to be a regular occurrence.

He walks over to the counter and you shuffle over to the side that you’ll pick up the order from. Watching carefully as he goes up, you take in his much more causal appearance to the usual extravagance of the outfits he adorns on stage.

Hes got a pair of denim shorts on—strong legs on display— paired with a white longsleeve that’s rolled up his fore arms.

You avert your gaze to the older Italian man at the register, clueless to who he is serving.

Until a younger girl, say 15, walks from the back room and does the biggest double take youve ever witnessed.

Harry has to be used to it, because there was no way anyone could miss that.

You’re feeling like you’re in a parallel universe. Because Harry is just casually strolling back over to you, like you’ve known each other for more than a total of two, 5 minute interactions.

You take a breath, reminding yourself simply that he is a human. Just like you are. He wakes up in the morning, has bad days and good days, has habits and routines he follows— just like anyone else.

You keep this in consideration as you open your mouth to speak, “Thank you for doing that. How have you been?”

He smiles at your shy tone, a tiny wholesome feeling bubbling up at your question.

“I’m good, honestly. It’s been a big start to the year. I’m excited to take some time off even though wrapping it up the other night was really hard.” He nods, eyes casually trailing the man who was making the drinks.

“If it makes any difference, I was sobbing like a baby at pretty much every point of the show.” You laughed.

“I did see your very tear stained cheeks.” He shocks himself little with his continuation,

“Would’ve jumped down and given you a hug if I had the bloody time.” And he smiles with gratification as you mask your shocked reaction as much as possible. However, tiny little micro-movements in your face were still popping through. “I went a little overtime with the speech.”

Just human to human. You drew a tiny breath through your nose, “Which was great by the way. I mean my friend had to translate the whole thing, but was also another tear jerker.”

He goes to say something else, interrupted by the call of his name from the counter.

In which he collects the drinks from the lovely man, smiling at him with a warm thank you before turning to come back to you.

“Here you go, darling.” He hands over yours, and his green eyes look bright as ever.

The darling makes your stomach flip. He’s British, they use pet names like this in passing conversation often. But fuck if you didn’t know any better you’d think there was a chance he was flirting with you.

“Thank you. You really didn’t have to, but I appreciate it.” You repeat.

“You have a different accent, you’re not from Italy no?” He interjects and you’re a little confused at the sudden change of topic.

“No I’m not from here…?” you laugh.

“So you’ve travelled all this way to come see me I’m assuming, the least I can do is buy you a tea. Think of it as a thank you.”

He tests the waters a little further, “i don’t usually stay in cafes for overly long but, if you have time to sit for a bit…”

“You continue to amaze me.” You chuckle, slowly following behind him as he pulls up a chair, back to the window.

“You also made me a very flattering sign. So im just being courteous, as a way to return the favour.” He smirks almost. And you’re honestly not strong enough to endure this.

“And that little piano thing you did? Is this compensation for my mental health?” You hold the cup up and he lets out a surprised laugh at your gentle quip.

“Yes, I’ve heard word that it came across as emotional as I’d intended.”

“You could hear a pin drop in the whole arena.” You nodded, taking a sip of the tea he’d bought you.

“I was so worried I was gonna fuck it up somehow.” He shakes his head, hand running through his hair as though he was anxious just at the thought.

“It sounded amazing, Harry. Made me feel a lot how fine line did when I first listened to it.”

He looks sincere with gratitude as you talk. And it stays that way as he continues on conversation with you.

You know heaps about him— you’re a fangirl that’s practically your job— yet he doesn’t know anything about you. Leaving him curious about many aspects of your life, and also with plenty of questions. Ones he really can’t believe he is even asking given you’re a fan, and he’s never actually done this before.

Whatever this is, because it felt a lot like a first date. With the way he asked where you were from, who you came to Italy with, where you grew up.

The whole lot. Your drinks both long since finished, but the questions still flowing between you two. Like there was never enough information to be learned.

He was interrupted by a call, and it almost popped this little bubble you’d made around yourselves.

Which possibly wasn’t a bad thing for him. But it served as a reality check for you.

You’re still just a fan at the end of the day. Even though your not sure how that term stands after he knows about your favourite foods, or childhood stories from your younger years. Because you feel like now that he knows that, the dynamic feels different to you.

But most of all you dreaded the fact you had to say goodbye again. But now you have to say it knowing that he walks away from this knowing things personal to you.

You realise he’s on the phone to his mum as he talks, “Yea, tell Gem to grab them anyway… I’ll be back soonish.”

He glances up at your after a moment of brief silence, “I’m just out with a friend of mine I… bumped into. So I’ll see you soon, okay?”

A friend of his?

“Alright, bye, I love you.”

And just like that the phone hung up.

“I’m feeling very special at my label. A friend of yours.” You laugh, but not lying whatsoever.

“Was m’mum. We’re having a late lunch at her BNB.” He explained, and the fact he didn’t object his choice of wording meant even more to you than anything.

You stare at him a moment, both mutually realising that this moment was seemingly going to have to end at some point.

“I don’t often do things like this.” He shrugs, watching your eyes train on random objects around the room as you get lost in thought.

“What do you mean?” You ask.

“Never sat down with a fan and just had a drink. It was lovely, thank you for being so polite.” He smiles again at you.

It surprised him just how far he went with it. But you had this gentle aura about you. He knew of all people, you were safe to share this private slice of himself with.

“Thank you for buying my drink… to have spent this time talking, it— well it meant a lot to me.”

“I would give you my number if my manager wouldn’t kill me.”

As stated, he continues to surprise himself just how far he’s going.

Your brain stalls at his comment.

“You could just have mine? Buy a burner phone and text me off it.” You make the first suggestion that comes to mind and he barks out a laugh.

“Could just reaffirm that you weren’t going to sell my number off to fans on Twitter?”

“Ah, that could also work too.” You nod, raising your brows.

He pulls his phone from his pocket, and your heart genuinely palpitates. Because how the fuck had you managed this.

“Gimmie yours, if you’d like?” He slides it over, and you feel like you’re picking up something with more value than just a phone. I mean it’s Harry Styles’ phone of all things.

You begin to type it in, glancing up as his gaze is trained on you, “how many numbers of fans do you have banked up in here?”

He rolls his eyes at your tease, still smiling, “I’ll have you know you’ll be the first. If my mums counts though, then only two.”

“I just…” he pauses, pursing his lips as he looks for the right words, “knew I’d regret it if I didn’t have a way to get in touch with you. I’d say we’ve got a lot in common and it’s always nice to meet new people. And I don’t want to be thinking later ‘wow, she was lovely, wish I could have kept in touch’. Y’know?”

You send yourself a text, just a simple ‘:)’ so it saves in his recent messages. “Well, I suppose I’d be a little sad too. Probably start sending emails to your manager trying to find a way to get in touch again.”

He laughs at this, standing up from his chair and pocketing his phone in his shorts once you hand it back to him.

You also rise from the table, watching his movements keenly.

“Makes this part less sad.” He says, in reference to the impending goodbye, “I’m not leaving Italy for a little bit though, and if you’re sticking around as well, maybe I can buy your more cups of tea— to make you feel even more guilty about it, of course.”

You let out a soft chuckle, “Yea, I’m not leaving for a little while…”

He walks to your side of the table, not hesitating to pull you into a hug that leaves you winded.

You freeze a millisecond before jumping to embrace it. Enjoying the gentle yet strong feeling of his body holding yours. And the way his hands are ever-so-slightly caressing your lower back.

“Thanks for hanging out, alright? Don’t be shy to message me.” He murmurs into your hair.

“I— okay. I won’t. Thank you, Harry.” You smile into the crook of his neck.

He gives a final squeeze before pulling back. Fighting the internal urge to press a little kiss to your temple.

“I’ll see you around, hopefully. Bye Y/N.” He gives you a final smile before waving goodbye, and heading out the cafe.

Your head is reeling as he exits. Unsure if you just imagined that whole thing. You needed someone to pinch you, because as far as your concerned that whole interaction was something you dreamed up.

You check your phone to see the time.

1:53pm

1 new notification

Unknown Number | :)

So that actually did just happen.

———

To reaffirm that you weren’t the only person in the world to witness what happened today, you see a tweet reposted on an update account that reads,

so, i just saw harry styles in the cafe i work at, and he sat down and drank a tea with someone he talked to at a show. not naming the interaction for privacy but like… what the fuck?

And secretly you smile. Maybe this is something you’ll keep to yourself for a bit. Like he’s a new secret friend of yours.

———

part two!!

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #fanfiction #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles oneshot #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles writing #fanfic #harry styles smut #famous harry #fan! y/n #fangirl! y/n #italyrry #he’s so cute

1K notes · View notes

megalony · 11 months ago

Text

Thank Me Later

This is a new Eddie Diaz imagine, requested by Anon. I hope you will all like it, I had fun writing this one. I'm trying to work through my requests as quickly as I can.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @topguncultleader @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts

911 Masterlist

Summary: (Y/n) starts to feel unwell on shift and tries to sleep it off, but things go from bad to worse when she interrupts a thief at the station. Then becomes a hostage.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"What have we got today?" Evan leaned his arms onto the kitchen counter and arched his back out as he crossed one leg over the other. His head tilted to one side and he grinned as he watched Bobby take a large square dish out of the oven.

They were actually on time for tea today which was a miracle around the station. The bell hadn't sounded and dragged them off to a call out right in the middle of their meal or when they were just about to sit down and eat. Everyone could eat properly today, it had been a calmer day than they were used to.

"Pasta bake," Bobby looked up from the large serving bowl and smiled widely when he could see Evan's eyes widen happily.

"Do you want a drink?" (Y/n) looked up at Eddie as the pair of them headed up the stairs and turned to the left towards the kitchen. She knew he was keeping a slow pace to walk at her speed which had suddenly taken a very drastic decline, but he didn't say anything.

She could feel Eddie's hand hover over her lower back as he nodded and let her move in front of him towards the fridge while he went to sit down.

(Y/n) tried to calm her breaths but she bit down on her lip when her fingers curled around a glass and she realised her hand was shaking. All day yesterday she hadn't felt great but being on shift today only made her feel worse. They had been on a big callout to a car accident this morning and it had somehow snatched all of (Y/n)'s energy and left her feeling burnt out and dead on her feet.

Deep down, she knew she was probably coming down with something. She was hungry but the smell and the thought of food made her uneasy and her head was pounding like she was being hit with a hammer. But she didn't want to go off sick. (Y/n) couldn't leave the station in bother when they had three people off this week and someone had been snatched for another station that was low on regulars.

Her lips pressed into a thin line as she poured two glasses of juice and dug her nails into the glass so harshly her fingers began to throb and ache. She couldn't risk dropping the glasses.

It was a relief when she shuffled over to the table and was able to put a glass down in front of herself and Eddie. She let herself flop down into her seat and took a second to tilt her head back and close her eyes, relishing in the way her muscles stopped aching and weighed down when she sat and relaxed.

"Are you alright?"

A shiver bolted down (Y/n)'s spine and her eyes snapped open when she felt Eddie's lips hover over the shell of her ear as he leaned close enough that his chest bumped her shoulder. And when his hand gave her knee a squeeze, (Y/n) almost melted into a puddle in her chair.

Why did Eddie have to have such an effect on her?

They were friends. Good friends. Close friends. He meant everything to her but the closer Eddie got to her, the more (Y/n) started to panic. She didn't want to feel this way about someone she worked with. What if Eddie didn't feel this connection as deeply as she did? (Y/n) couldn't handle that kind of rejection and then go and see Eddie every day and work so close to his side that they almost felt like a married couple.

How could she watch his back when all she wanted to do was reel him close and kiss him? She couldn't look out for him when her mind was too focused on what he looked like out of the uniform.

(Y/n) realised she hadn't answered and quickly nodded her head despite the pain it caused to bolt down the back of her neck and how her eyes rolled and lost focus from the slight movement.

"Thanks," She whispered quietly when Hen held a plate of pasta out to her since she was the one dishing up the food today.

The steam coming from her plate made her nose crinkle and her head started to swim from the heat. She already felt like she was trapped in an oven and had to switch her button up shirt for a plain cotton shirt with no sleeves to let her body breathe and cool back down.

Two bites of pasta had (Y/n) pressing the back of her hand against her mouth as she willed herself not to throw up at the dinner table.

Her head tilted down and she took a few deep breaths, trying to keep her food down as she set down her fork and grabbed her glass instead. Maybe skipping lunch would be a good idea to let her body settle. She could try and eat better when they had tea later on in the shift.

Eddie cleared half his plate before he tilted his head down to the right and realised (Y/n) hadn't eaten more than three forkfuls. His brows furrowed and he put down his fork so he could slide his hand beneath the table and give her knee another squeeze to grab her attention. He could see she wasn't paying attention to the conversation floating around the table and frankly, neither was he.

His full attention was landing on (Y/n) now.

She had wobbled when they got out the truck earlier and he had to grab her before she fell down to her knees. He knew she hadn't eaten breakfast this morning and she had almost lost her footing again on the stairs a while ago. She was having dizzy spells and that was beginning to concern Eddie.

"What's wrong?"

Turning in his seat, Eddie moved so his body was facing (Y/n) and he stretched his right arm behind her and gripped the back of her chair. While his left hand propped his chin up and he tilted his head at an angle to look at her. No one else was paying them much attention so it didn't matter if he turned his back on the rest of the table to give (Y/n) his full attention.

"Eddie…"

Her head was splitting like someone was banging a drum so harshly that her head was ripping open at the seams. The thudding of her heartbeat pulsed beneath her skin and pounded through her head so badly that she couldn't even see anymore. All she could make out were the black and white sparkles blinking in front of her eyes.

"Hm?" He pursed his lips and dared to move his hand from her chair to rest on her back but his pupils blew wide when he felt her body loosen and watched her head drop forward.

As quick as anything, Eddie lurched his left hand forward and cupped his palm against (Y/n)'s temple to stop her face from landing in her dinner. He held up her head and slid his right arm down her back to wrap around her waist.

"Shit!"

Eddie scraped his chair back and gave it a swift kick so it was out of his way so he could crouch down beside (Y/n). He tilted her head back and cupped the back of her neck so her head didn't flop backwards and hurt her neck. And his other hand pressed against her neck just below her chin to feel her pulse which was running high.

His thumb brushed through her hair against her neck and he shifted his other hand higher to cup her cheek. He tilted her head down towards him and leaned up to check her pupils when her eyes slowly started to flicker open.

"(Y/n), are you with me?" Eddie could feel Hen hovering at his side, waiting to be given the order to go and get one of the medic bags so they could properly assess (Y/n).

She had only blacked out for a few seconds but it was enough to panic all of them. Especially Eddie.

(Y/n) let her head flop forward until her chin was pressed down into her chest but she managed to raise her hand enough to curl her fingers around Eddie's wrist and hum quietly. Her head kept pounding and the blood seemed to fizle and pop in her ears, but she could start to see again now without spots and dots flickering in front of her eyes. And she could hear Eddie's serenading voice in her ears.

She didn't realise how close he was until his thumb lifted her eyelid to check her pupil and she came face to face with his melted chocolate eyes.

Her heart did another leap in her chest when Eddie pressed the back of his hand against her temple. And (Y/n) let her head tip forward so she could brush her nose against his wrist while her fingers stayed curled around his other wrist.

"You're burning up."

"Alright, I think your shift is over." Bobby leaned his hips back against the table and folded his arms over his chest. His expression stayed stoic yet firm when (Y/n) groaned and tried to look up at him.

Her shift was almost over but she had another two and a half hours left, the same as Eddie. She couldn't leave now, especially not if they got another call out.

Shivers bolted up and down (Y/n)'s stomach and fireworks flickered in her fingertips when Eddie cupped her chin and tilted her head up. He stayed crouching in front of her and stayed silent, watching to see if she could hold her head up and if she was properly conscious.

His hand dropped from her face and (Y/n) suddenly felt cold and deflated until she felt where his hands moved to. One hand curled around her upper thigh and started to squeeze reassuringly while his other hand held her wrist and counted her pulse.

"You don't look good," Evan commented quietly, taking a swig of his drink as he leaned over the table to look at her. She looked sick. Sweating, unfocused vision, trembling and barely lucid. She wasn't well.

"Pulse is evening back out but I don't trust you to drive home." Eddie looked down at his watch before he looked back up between Bobby and (Y/n). "If you hang on I'll take you home when I finish." There was no way anyone was going to let (Y/n) drive home, not when she was burning a fever and she looked about ready to collapse again. She could have another blackout and that would be a disaster waiting to happen.

If she stayed here and tried to rest, Eddie would happily take her home when their shifts ended which wouldn't be long anyway.

He was relieved when (Y/n) nodded. She wanted to stay at the station and finish her shift. She wanted to be around Eddie. He made her feel better and right now, with his hand digging into her thigh, (Y/n) was fighting the urge to squirm and jump down into his lap.

"I'm okay," Her eyes flitted around to everyone but Eddie, trying to tell them that they could sit down and eat their dinner again. She didn't want to cause any more distraction and stop everyone from finishing their meal if the alarm sounded. Not that it bothered Evan who was practically finished now. She wanted them all to go back to their seats; everyone but Eddie.

Her hands moved to hold Eddie's biceps when he stood up and gripped her elbows, helping her up even though she didn't know what he was doing or where he was trying to take her.

His arm swooped around her waist and his hand pressed against her back between her hips and he guided her towards the stairs.

"Your shift hasn't ended yet," She whispered quietly, wiping her arm against her temple that was still flushed.

"I know, but if you're waiting for me to take you home then I need you to rest. Go sleep in the bunker until our shift finishes." The last thing Eddie wanted was for (Y/n) to bustle about the station trying to help out and overdo things. She was burning up a fever and she didn't look well. Eddie wanted her to try and take it easy and rest until he could take her home.

And if he was being honest with himself, he wasn't sure he would actually be taking (Y/n) home today. He might bring her back home with him so he could make sure she was alright. The last thing (Y/n) needed was to be ill and alone at home when she could stay with Eddie and Chris. It would stop Eddie from fretting about her.

A jolt ran down (Y/n)'s spine and her hand lurched around Eddie's bicep when the alarm bell sounded just as they reached the bottom of the stairs. She could feel Eddie's fingers digging into her back and his other hand grabbed her arm to steady her.

"Come on," He mumbled quietly as he guided (Y/n) down the corridor towards the bunker room. He wanted to make sure she actually laid down before he had to go out on this call. He knew what (Y/n) was like and if they went out on a call, she would end up cleaning and tidying and overdoing things.

(Y/n) could feel her mind starting to shut down the moment she flopped onto one of the cot beds. Her knees coiled up to her stomach and she wound one arm to her waist but in a moment of courage, (Y/n) curled her hand around Eddie's and brushed his hand against her cheek.

"I won't be long. Try and get some sleep, love."

Fireworks ignited throughout (Y/n)'s temple and down to her stomach that pumped with adrenaline when she felt Eddie's lips press against her temple. He had never done that before. Maybe he was doing it because she wasn't feeling well and he wanted to calm her down and reassure her.

But (Y/n) hoped the reason was because he secretly felt the same way she did.

***

(Y/n) could feel a storm rolling in behind her eyes and spreading all throughout her head when she groggily opened her eyes and tried to sit up. Her body swayed back and forth when she moved into an upright position on the small cot bed.

Her head lolled back and her eyes moved from left to right until they managed to regain focus again. A groan tumbled past her lips as her hands moved to slam down on the bed to prop herself up but her elbows were shaking and shivers rushed throughout her body.

When the drowsy feeling finally started to dissipate, (Y/n) flopped her head forward and tried to take deep breaths to clear the spots in front of her eyes.

Her hand moved to swipe against her forehead and she grimaced and cringed silently. Her body was flushed and covered in sweat.

Her fever was getting out of control.

It didn't feel like she had been asleep for long, but she couldn't be sure. She felt like she had only managed a ten-minute power nap but her churning stomach and throbbing head told her otherwise. Maybe she needed to go get a drink and wait out front for the team to come back. Once Eddie was back, he would be taking her home because he was right, (Y/n) was in no fit state to drive herself anywhere.

"Fuck," Her knees jerked back and forth when she stood up and her body dithered, deciding whether she could stand on her own two feet or if her weight was suddenly too much to handle.

Her balance felt off. It felt like her centre of gravity had shifted to the left and (Y/n) found her head and shoulders tilting to the left which made her body stumble in that direction when she aimed for the door.

This wasn't good. Eddie was right, she was coming down with something.

The station felt odd and uneasy when there weren't many people milling about the place. She had been left at the station by herself a few times for various reasons, but when she felt ill, the station suddenly felt gloomy and unsafe.

As she wandered down the hall, (Y/n) reached her hand out and trailed her palm across the wall to steady and support herself so she didn't end up taking a tumble down to the floor. Her body aimed to turn left but she stopped walking and looked across to the right when a sound caught her attention.

The only room down that small corridor was Bobby's office. Her feet fumbled beneath her when she darted a glance ahead of her. The fire trucks and the ambulance were gone. The team hadn't come back yet and Bobby wouldn't hang back at the station if the team went out on a call.

So who was in his office?

(Y/n) let her shoulder slump against the wall as she dithered down the corridor. Her heart started to beat faster in her chest when she noticed Bobby's office door was slightly ajar.

She couldn't recall whether Bobby locked the office when he wasn't here or not. It wasn't like the station was ever empty. Someone was always here, they were open twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. There would always be people on shift and no one needed to go ransacking his office for anything. He had nothing of value hidden in there and no one who worked here would need to snatch anything from the office.

"What are you doing?" Her voice came out rather authoritative and her arms moved to cross over her chest.

She stood in the doorway of the office, frowning across at someone she didn't recognise. (Y/n) had worked at the station for over a year now, she knew everyone who worked here and she knew a few people from the other stations too. She didn't recognise the man in front of her which meant he didn't work here.

Begging the question, what was he doing in Bobby's office? What was he looking for?

(Y/n) realised a second too late that she had walked in on a very, very bad situation.

The man in question was wearing all black; trousers, boots, hoodie and gloves. The only thing he was missing was a mask. The drawers in Bobby's desk were all pulled out and ruffled through, papers were spilling over the edges, pens and stationary littered the floor and almost everything had been pushed off the desk onto the floor.

The cupboards behind the desk were currently being rooted through and by the stranger's foot, there was a duffle bag that was currently empty. He was trying to raid the station.

"Don't make this harder for both of us. Where's the valuables?"

Despite the panic rattling through her chest, the pain bolting across her temple and the unease clouding round her like a fog, (Y/n) managed something similar to a smile. Did he mistake the station for a bank or a posh mansion? What kind of valuables did he think they kept round here? This was a fire house, a place for emergencies. They sent out medical equipment and had ladders and jaws and electrical devices to help get people out of all sorts of situations and fires and people in medical distress.

They weren't a jewellery shop, stashing diamonds and necklaces in safes locked away in the office. They didn't keep money around the station either. Their wages were paid electronically and they had a bank card for any food or equipment they needed to buy; no cash was left on the premises, except for staff wallets in their lockers.

"This is a fire station, we don't have any valuables you can take. You need to leave." (Y/n) began to tap her fingers against her arm and her teeth ground together. She was ill, she wasn't in the mood to argue with a very bad thief. She would give him a head start and let him leave before she called Athena to report this.

"I'm not leaving until I have something of value with me."

"Then I'll call the police."

(Y/n) wasn't playing games, she knew she looked the picture of death right now and she was in no mood to negotiate or help him loot the station.

Her mind was already trying to fathom where she last had her phone while she took two steps back into the corridor and turned around. She wasn't standing around to watch, she would find her phone and call the police and try to contact Bobby to see if they were on their way back yet.

"I don't think so." That voice sent shivers running up and down (Y/n)'s spine and her feet started to flop and curl in a hurried attempt to start running. She needed a phone, she didn't want to get attacked.

A scream fell past (Y/n)'s lips and her hands moved to cup over her ears when a gunshot rang out through the air. Her body jolted to the left and slammed into the wall, the shock making her knees buckle until she slumped down onto her knees on the floor.

He had a gun.

Where did he get that from? She didn't see it on the desk or in his hand when she looked him up and down. He must have hidden it in his jeans or in the duffle bag by his feet. This changed things. (Y/n) couldn't try snd outrun him when she wasn't in the best state and he seemed willing to shoot her down. She was going to have to comply.

Her eyes snapped closed and her hands let go of her ears to hold out in front of her when she felt a rough hand tangle in her hair and wrench her head backwards. Her neck cricked with pain and her features scrunched up into a wince as she swallowed down a cry.

She braced her hands on the wall to help herself stand up when he all but dragged her to her feet by her hair. But when (Y/n) felt the barrell of the gun press down into her back between her hips, her body turned to jelly and she wobble don the spot.

"Now, you're going to show me where all the good stuff is that I can flog, and I might not shoot you at the end of this. Okay?"

"Hm." (Y/n) did her best to nod her head in agreement but when he harshly shook her head back and forth, bile rose in the back of her throat and she wavered on the spot.

"Well?"

"I-inventory… you can take t-the equipment, hacksaw, medical stock, it'll sell quick." (Y/n) opened her eyes but she could barely get her vision to focus down the hall.

He could take anything from the stock room. They had spare axes, hoses, jaws for car crashes. And any of their medical equipment would sell on the black market and to dodgy clinics all around LA. Everything they had in inventory would sell somewhere and get a good price. It might not be as good as stealing cash or jewellery or selling documents, but it was as good as he was going to get from the station.

"Let's go."

He ragged (Y/n)'s head back until she was almost touching his shoulder, then he suddenly gave her a rough shove forward and had her tripping over her feet. (Y/n) bound one arm around her chest and trailed her left hand along the wall to steady herself and to try and stay upright when her head was turning to mush and her body was ready to drop.

Why couldn't the team have come back already? He wouldn't be much of a match for any of the guys here. Evan and Eddie could of tackled him easily before he produced the gun and they could of outnumbered him.

(Y/n)'s feet stumbled beneath her and she stopped walking when they moved towards the main floor of the station.

The ambulance was parked up. The truck was reversing back in its usual spot. The team were back.

This was not going to go down very well.

His hand left her hair and moved to scrunch up the back of her shirt so he had a good grip in case she tried to move away from him. The gun moved higher until it was pressed between her shoulders and he stood tall behind her, keeping his chest touching her back so she knew he was in charge of this situation.

"Quick." He hissed in her ear and (Y/n) shakily pointed towards the right near the lockers. Behind the gym was the inventory and stock room. They weren't going to get over there without someone seeing them, surely he had to know that.

"(Y/n), hey are you feeling any better?"

Shivers bolted up and down (Y/n)'s spine and she could feel tears creeping up in the corners of her eyes.

Eddie's voice made her stomach melt like snow and sent her heart jumping up into her throat until she couldn't breathe. When she looked over her left shoulder towards him, a single tear traced down her face. He was stood behind the truck with his hands on his hips, no florescent jacket on which exposed his bulging arms to her sight. His hair was askew in all directions and traces of mud and dirt coated his face.

His shoulders straightened out and he quirked a soft smile, showing his teeth and creasing his eyes that made (Y/n) feel like her heart had left her chest and gone straight into his hands.

His smile started to fade when she didn't answer him. Eddie tried to catch back his breath but his upper lip curled in distaste when he watched (Y/n) just stare at him like she suddenly didn't know how to speak. He could see she was trembling and even from this distance, he could tell her breathing was rapid and uneven.

"She's fine."

Eddie tilted his chin up as his jaw loosened so he could run his tongue over his lips. He narrowed his eyes while his hands tightened around his hips. Who the Hell was that stood behind her? Eddie didn't recognise him, he wasn't wearing any sort of uniform for the station or police or any other job.

"I wasn't asking you. (Y/n)… is everything okay?" He wouldn't move until he heard from (Y/n) that she was okay and there wasn't a problem here because she didn't look well or comfortable. And Eddie wouldn't have that.

(Y/n) rolled her lips together to stop herself from saying anything but her chest shuddered when she felt the gun press harsher into her upper back and the man tried to pull her to keep moving. Before she could think better of it, (Y/n) started to shake her head. She grounded her feet to the spot and pulled back when the man tried to drag her away.

Her head violently shook from side to side and more tears flooded down her face, making a fire spark within Eddie's chest.

"Eddie…"

"Let go of her."

With his hands clenched into fists at his sides, Eddie started to walk forward. He didn't know what was going on here but he didn't like it at all. (Y/n) was crying and she looked worried and there was a stranger stood behind her like he was threatening her.

"Alright, let's try this again."

Eddie stopped short and stumbled onto his back foot when a gun was suddenly pressed against (Y/n)'s temple.

(Y/n) bit down on her lip harsh enough to draw blood when his hand fisted in her hair again and tilted her head back near his. Her shoulders bumped into his chest and she coiled her arms up towards her chest, scratching her nails into her neck to try and calm herself down when the barrell of the gun moved to the right side of her head.

"Cap." Eddie tilted his head to the side and took a quick glance over his shoulder before he looked back at (Y/n). He held his hands out in front of him to show he wasn't about to lunge forward or get a phone and start calling the police. He wouldn't do anything to jeopardise (Y/n)'s safety. Never.

He could feel Bobby standing behind him and soon enough the rest of the team was crowding around, all stood in a line, their unease mingling together and radiating out around the station.

What were they supposed to do? How could they help (Y/n) when she was now a hostage?

What could Eddie do?

"Okay, everybody stay where they are. We're not going to do anything unless you say so. What do you want?" Bobby took two steps forward so he was in front of his team. He was the captain, he was the one who was in charge of the station and responsible for the team. He wouldn't let anyone get hurt if he could help it and he would try and negotiate and do whatever he was asked to keep his team safe.

"Everybody over there. Now."

When he pointed towards the locker room, Bobby nodded and moved his hands out to usher the team in that direction.

Chimney and Hen moved first, being the closest to the locker room. Evan followed behind and kept moving when Bobby patted his shoulder and nudged him to follow. Bobby turned towards Eddie and rested a hand on his shoulder but Eddie shook him off.

He wasn't going to go and sit in there and risk this man walk off with (Y/n). One look at her and anyone could see she was sick. She was flushed, sweating, shaking and could barely keep her eyes focused. She needed to see a doctor and get away from this stressful situation. Eddie wasn't leaving her.

"Eddie, come on-"

"Let (Y/n) come with us. We're complying, let her stay with us and you can take what you want." Eddie waved his hand out in (Y/n)'s direction, trying to get her to safety with them. None of them were going to tackle him or overpower him when he had a gun on them. Having (Y/n) in the locker room with them would make it better for this guy. He could go and take whatever he wanted without having to drag her along with him.

"She's my security, she stays with me."

(Y/n) closed her eyes and tried to take a deep breath but it didn't relieve the lightheaded feeling swamping through her temple.

"Look at her, she's gonna collapse. Take one of us instead, she won't be much security when she drops."

The way Eddie raised his brows and jutted out his jaw made (Y/n) shiver and she tilted her head back when she realised what he was hinting at. Her lips pressed together tightly and she held her breath for as long as she could until her head weighed down and her body started to shudder.

It wasn't hard to let her muscles go limp and when the man's hand tightened in her hair and became the only thing holding her up, (Y/n)'s vision went black. She could barely register the noises around her and she didn't feel the way her body thumped against the ground when he let her drop down.

Eddie stomped his foot and growled when Bobby grabbed his shoulder, stopping him from lunging forward to grab (Y/n) before she hit the floor.

"You, come with me. You, take her in there."

That was all Eddie needed to hear. He kept his eyes focused on (Y/n) instead of the gun that was pointing at him in case he made any sudden movements. He bashed his knees down into the floor and gently cradled the back of (Y/n)'s neck so he could pull her head up and rest her cheek against his shoulder. His hand moved round to her back and his other arm slid beneath her knees.

"I got you, I got you." He muttered quietly against her temple when he stood up and headed towards the locker room.

As soon as he was inside, Eddie went down on his knees again and gently eased (Y/n) down on the floor. He shifted her round so her back was slumped up against his chest and he curved his arm around her waist while his other hand moved to cup her jaw.

Hen slumped down next to Eddie while Chimney and Evan sat on the bench, all of them grimacing when Bobby locked the door and gave them a pointed look before he followed the gun man down the corridor towards the inventory room.

"(Y/n)… look at me," Eddie brushed his thumb against her jaw and gently moved her head to try and bring her back around. She had tried to make herself collapse and had blacked out in the process. "She's burning up, she might have an infection."

"Pulse is very fast, I'd take a guess that her BP is too high as well. We have to get her to the hospital." Hen held (Y/n)'s wrist in her hand and counted her pulse which was way too high. She was at risk of going into cardiac arrest or having breathing problems if this continued. She she still wasn't lucid yet, her eyes were fluttering about but the only movement she had was her body trembling in Eddie's arms.

"Then we get out of here, now."

Pushing forward, Eddie carefully eased (Y/n) forward until her head was on Hen's shoulder so he could get up. He looked at Evan and pointed at the fire extinguisher, that was their only weapon of defence and their attacker couldn't do anything if they blasted him with a concentrated amount of CO2 from the extinguisher.

Eddie pressed his forehead against the window and took a look around, making sure Bobby and the man weren't coming back yet before he pulled back. He closed his eyes, leaned his chest back and rammed his elbow into the window with as much force as he could manage.

The glass splintered around his joint, imbedding in his skin and trickling blood down his arm towards his fingers, but the adrenaline coursing through his body countered the pain and panic he was feeling. Eddie reached his hand through the broken glass and unlocked the door before he turned back around and leaned down.

"Everybody in the ambulance. Go." He waved an arm at them to make them move before he looked down at (Y/n). "Up we go, sweetheart."

Eddie grabbed (Y/n)'s right arm and curled it around the back of his neck before his right arm clamped down around her bum, hoping she would excuse the touch before he hoisted her up. He straightened up and slumped (Y/n) over his right shoulder, feeling her forehead press into his back and he heard her groan something incoherent as he juggled her a bit higher up so she was secure.

His chest tightened when he realised he had a great view of her arse right next to him. His arm bound around the back of her thighs and he turned around and made a break out of the locker room.

Hen and Chimney sped towards the ambulance and Eddie cringed when Evan turned on the extinguisher, trying his best to aim for the gun man and not Bobby. The last thing he wanted was to incapacitate their captain too.

Bobby seemed mostly unaffected and braced himself before he slammed his forearm out into the man's throat, smacking him straight in the windpipe which immobilised him. He fell down to his knees in time for Bobby to grapple the gun out of his hand, urging them all to move.

"Go!" Evan pressed his hand to Eddie's shoulder and smashed his other fist down on the side of the ambulance when Eddie was in the back with Chimney and Hen was in the driver's seat. Evan closed the door, closing them inside before he took a step back so he was out the way. He would stay behind with Bobby and wait for the police and to be safe in case another call out came through the tanoid.

A weak groan tumbled past (Y/n)'s lips when she felt herself being slumped over from Eddie's shoulder and down onto the gurney. Her arm bound around her chest as she began to cough and wheeze, trying to slow down her breathing because her pulse was throbbing in her ears.

Her head twisted from side to side when she felt one of them trying to press an oxygen mask over her mouth and nose.

"Sweetheart it's to help you, come on let me help you, please?" Eddie leaned over the gurney and braced his shoulder on the wall when Hen took a sharp right turn that had them jolting back and forth.

He brushed his thumb against (Y/n)'s jaw before he placed the oxygen mask back over her nose, relieved when she stopped fidgeting and trying to push him away. It was to keep her system going and make sure she was alright, he wasn't trying to hurt her or do this to be cruel.

(Y/n) flopped her arm out when she managed to focus her eyes enough to see Chimney holding a blood pressure cuff. But she moved her free hand out and grabbed Eddie's hand that was hovering near her neck. She caught his attention and he leaned down closer when she tugged on his hand and brought it down to her chest.

"What, sweetheart?"

He refrained from rolling his eyes when (Y/n) scratched the mask down until it flopped on her chest and she could look up at him. Her lips quirked into a dazed, tight smile but it was enough to make Eddie's heart flutter.

"Thank you," (Y/n) pulled on his arm again until she could flop her head forward and kiss his exposed arm.

She barely heard Chimney mutter something about her blood pressure being high. She guessed he was going to find her some blood thinners when he turned his back to them and rummaged around in the drawers for something. His lack of attention gave Eddie enough time to lean down and press his lips against (Y/n)'s burning temple which made her heart flutter and her fingers tightened around his arm.

She almost saw stars in front of her eyes again when she felt Eddie's fingers fluttering up and down her chest before his lips moved down to hover over her ear. She could feel each panting breath against the shell of her ear that he kissed softly.

"Let me look after you now, then I'll think of a way you can thank me later."

#eddie diaz x reader #eddie diaz imagine #eddie x reader #eddie diaz #imagine #911 imagine #bobby nash #evan buckley

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