#sat up split second halfway asleep like WAIT. I’VE GOT IT
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AAAAH I’M SO EXCITED I’ve been sitting with CVM for a couple months now trying to work out technical things and . Finally. I can actually start WRITING IT HOLY HELL!!!! I’ve got my main characters I’ve got my POV character (hardest part overall ohhh my god) I’ve got my opening scene!!!! I have my opening scene. Figuring it out almost killed me but we’re HERE and I can finally start things. I’m so excited I could cry
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allthatyoulove · 3 years ago
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A Heavy Feeling
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Bucky Barnes / Female Reader
Summary: A fight with Bucky leaves you feeling alone.
Includes: angst angst angst, tiny fluff towards end, mentions of not eating
Words: 2k
A/N: A little angsty drabble I’ve had sitting in my drafts. I put female reader but it’s pretty general :) Please check out my prompt list! You can request as many prompts as you’d like! Hope you enjoy the story! Feel free to leave any feedback and please let me know of any warnings or errors I missed, thanks for stopping by :)
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These last few days have probably been some of the worst in my life.
My life thus far has been far from easy, but it’s hard to remember a time where I felt as low as I do now.
I sit at the dining table, using my fork to mess with the food on my plate. Silverware clinks against plates, conversations are lively. Warm lighting fills the room, the huge window allowing a glimpse at the night sky. Everyone is eating and talking, laughing and smiling.
Everyone except Bucky and I.
They know why, which is probably why they were quick to put space between us as we all sat down for dinner. I was the last to come to the table, everyone stopping mid-conversation to look at me with pity. I sat down, and haven’t spoken a word to anyone since. They had eventually ignored the heavy tension tethered between Bucky and I, deciding that constant talking would prevent the chance of an awkward silence crashing over the entire table.
I had told them I could eat in my room, that I didn’t want to make dinner weird for everyone else. They insisted I come. I couldn’t ask Bucky to not come to dinner either, especially when I knew how much he liked sitting down with everyone, taking an hour or two to enjoy the company of who had become his family. No matter how mad I was at him, I could never ask him to give that up.
So that led me here, sitting at the edge of the table, messing with my food. Bucky was sitting across from me, to the very left edge of the table. The farthest seat from mine. Being so far from him was probably worse than sitting right next to him. I only glanced at him a few times, which I was proud of myself for. He was in his black leather jacket, with a black shirt and pants. Everyone had gone out just before dinner, but I didn’t feel up to it.
Seeing Bucky come through the door with a smile on his face made my heart tighten with pain, before I became disgusted with myself on how selfish the reaction was.
He sat at the table now, not talking with anyone. His arms were folded, and he hadn’t touched his food either. Everytime I looked at him he was focused on the same part of the table, zoned out. His brows were dropped, his lips in a soft frown. His eyes were filled with sadness, almost a puppy look. I could feel his eyes shift from the table to me every so often, trying my hardest not to meet his eyes.
We had only been sitting down for around 5 minutes, and I felt like I was suffocating. That’s all I’ve felt these past couple of days.
I’d asked him for space, said I needed to think things through. He respected that and listened, hesitantly. He didn’t go out with everyone as much, staying in his room save for the times Steve dragged him out. I was better at turning down the attempts of them trying to get me to go out. I had barely left my room.
I knew he was hurting, I could see it in his eyes and in the way he carried himself. I wondered if he was hurting as much as I was. I couldn’t sleep at night, couldn’t leave my bed. Couldn’t think without him next to me. Couldn’t think with him next to me.
I set my fork down, sighing to myself as the group was heavily engaged in conversation. I became alert of every action I made, feeling Bucky’s eyes on me once more. I gulped in anticipation, not thinking before drifting my eyes to his.
Our eyes met, my own filling with tears. His eyebrows pulled together, his own eyes filling with emotion. His mouth opened to say something, before I abruptly stood up, picking up my plate and taking it with me to my room. I could hear the conversations pause, confused sentences being muttered before another door shut, a few doors down from mine. Bucky’s. He must’ve left right after I did.
They eventually continued talking, but I stopped listening. I tossed my plate on a table, almost breaking it. I paced across my room, back and forth. I let the tears fall freely down my cheek, bringing a hand up to my mouth to be quiet. I sat down on the floor, holding my face in my hands. Not a single thought went through my head, but I couldn’t stop crying.
A few minutes passed before I had no more tears to shed, quiet and dry sobs leaving my mouth occasionally. I calmed down, using the breathing exercises Bucky had taught me. I almost started crying again at the thought, but I had nothing left in me.
I sat on the floor, sniffling and breathing deep breaths. Staring at the ground, no particular thought staying for more than a second.
My head shot up as a soft knock came to my door. A single knock, nothing more. Almost a tap.
I didn’t need to ask who it was, I knew. I held my breath, staring at the door. He said nothing. I crawled over to the door, holding my ear to the thin wood. I could hear the thumping of his heart, feeling it against the door. He must’ve been sitting against it- on the floor as well. His shaky breaths went through the wood.
I sighed, sitting with my back right where he was on the other side. I set my head on it, producing a tiny thump sound. The same sound came from the other side a second later.
My hand went up to my mouth again, sobs threatening to break from my throat. It was so painful, knowing he was sitting with me on the other side of the door. Not being able to touch him. The sound of his heartbeat comforted the pain slightly. I breathed in and out, in and out. Trying to calm down. I lost track of how long I was sitting there, scared he would leave first. I decided I couldn’t handle it if he did.
I didn’t try to listen to what he did on the other side of the door as I suddenly stood up, striding over to my bed and throwing myself under the covers. I didn’t come back out.
My eyes shot open, sitting up. The moonlight shone through the window the size of my wall, illuminating the covers. I had fallen asleep.
My head had found its way out of the covers, as they now sat loosely below my ribs. I rubbed my eyes with one hand, running it through my hair. I sighed as I looked around the room, yawning. I spotted my plate still sitting on the table. I got up, grabbing it and walking over to my door. I slowly opened it, cringing as it creaked. I peeked out, looking both ways down the hall. It was almost pitch black, save for the window that was providing light sitting at the end of the hallway. The coast was clear.
I closed my door slightly, walking to the kitchen. The dining table was clear and cleaned, leaving no trace of dinner earlier.
I put the food into a container, writing my name on it before shoving it into the fridge for later.
I turned around, walking back to my room. I slowly opened the door, hearing something. I paused, waiting. I didn’t hear anything. Was it my creaking door? I went to start to open it again when I heard it.
Whimpering.
My entire body froze for a split second before I strode straight to his room. I knew that sound, and I knew what it meant.
I cracked his door open, peeking in.
Bucky was laying in the middle of his bed, the sheets below his waist. He was shirtless, his vibranium arm wrapped over a pillow. The image pulled on my heart strings, tying it into a knot as he twitched, his other arm moving at his side.
I walked over to the side of the bed, putting my hands on it to hold myself up as I leaned over him.
“Bucky.” I whispered. His face turned just barely, still asleep. Still in his nightmare.
It had been so long since he had one, I forgot what to do. I reached a hand up, setting it on his metal bicep and shaking it lightly.
“Buck-”
I was halfway through his name when he turned around, pulling me into the bed with him and flipping me on my back. I gasped as he put his forearm against my neck, applying pressure. His eyes had snapped open, frantic and scared. Violent.
My arms pulled at his arm, shooting him pleading eyes as I struggled to breath. A few seconds passed before he let out a sharp breath, slumping as he seemingly came back to his body. His eyes shot open even wider, instantly taking his arm off of my neck. I gasped for air, breathing hard and fast. His eyes shot between mine, confusion and sadness and regret painted over them.
I stared at him as I caught my breath, waiting as his mouth stayed open- trying to find words.
He closed his mouth, backing away and sitting on the edge of the bed. I stayed in my spot for a second, cautious. I was unsure of what to do until I heard a sob escape him. I instantly sat up, my hand going to his shoulder. I tried to pull him to face me, but he remained facing the wall. His head was in his hands, his shoulders starting to shake as he cried. I walked on my knees, my chest against his back as I wrapped my arms around his waist.
I laid my head against his back, listening to the sound of his heart and breathing deeply- hoping he would soon follow. He continued shaking as I soothingly ran my fingers across his stomach, patient. Waiting.
“I thought they had stopped.” He let out, his voice cracking.
“I know. I know, baby.” I said, holding him tighter.
A few minutes passed as he gradually stopped shaking, occasionally twitching as he copied my breathing. He picked his head from his hands, as I raised my own from his back. I moved my body so I could look at him from the side. His eyes were puffy, his nose and cheeks red and tear stained. I brought one of my hands to his face, bringing it to meet mine and rub his cheek with my thumb. He stared at me, at my lips. I wiped the tears from his face, looking at him with love. He returned it, looking at me as if it was the first time.
“I’m so sorry.” He said, his voice rough and filled with regret. I shook my head, rejecting his apology with the motion. He opened his mouth to speak again when I brought his face to mine, our lips meeting.
My eyebrows scrunched together as I pushed my lips into his. He didn’t hesitate in kissing me back, his hands coming up to hold my face, to bring me closer. His lips perfectly molded into mine, the salty taste of his tears mixing between our tongues. Our noses bumped into each other repeatedly as we messily tried to both apologize and profess our undying love into the kiss.
I slowly pulled away after a few minutes, resting my forehead against his as I caught my breath. We looked at each other’s lips, chests heaving as my thumb rubbed his cheek. His hand drawing circles on my back. I broke out into a smile, him following me. I fell on my side back onto the bed, bringing him with me.
We laid across from each other, an inch apart. I brought my fingers down to his lips, pulling his lip and hearing it fall back with a pop. I looked at all of his features, knowing them by memory but still wanting them forever seared into my brain. I missed him.
Being in his room with the moon casting light over us, wrapped in his arms, I felt so happy. After days of nothing but a hole where my heart was, I felt complete. I was home.
We had a lot to talk about, but it could wait. I wanted to enjoy this moment.
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joheunsaram · 4 years ago
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To Make A Power Couple - 02 (knj)
Chapter 2 - Pizza and Life Chats
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THIS IS A REPOST SINCE I LOST ACCESS TO MY OLD ACCOUNT. PLEASE FOLLOW THIS BLOG FOR UPDATES ON THIS SERIES.
previous | masterlist | next
Summary- Namjoon and Y/N go on their first date, and Namjoon is whipped.
word count- 5k
pairing- idol!namjoon x ceo!reader
rating- pg13 for now
genre- series, fluff, eventual smut, strangers2lovers
warnings- mentions of hangovers and panic attacks, tooth-rottingly fluffy
a.n- okay here’s the second part! I wrote this up fairly quickly (don’t expect this to be the norm!). This part I wanted to kind of address the stress of overworking as a young adult (GUILTY 🙋🏻‍♀️) so sorry if it gets a little serious at parts. I also wanted to switch it up so it’s from Namjoon’s perspective. I hope you enjoy it. SOFT JOON BEING A BIG OLD SOFTY.
Feedback much appreciated! 💕
taglist - @beach-bitch-bitch-beach​, @sassyuniversitytacopeanut
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Namjoon woke up startled as his phone alarm rang. He was groggy and his splitting headache made him nauseous. “I’m never going to drink again”, he mumbled. He groaned as he got off the couch he had crashed on the night before, trying not to trip over Taehyung who seemed to be dozing happily on the floor as he made his way to his room. He hadn’t stayed at the dorms in a while, preferring the quiet solitary of his own apartment nowadays, and with his hangover in full swing he felt like he was walking through a stranger’s house.
Last month was hell. He had procrastinated on his songs and none of the vocal guides were even halfway done before the due date. Every time he tried to finish a song a new one would pop up in his head and he would start on that, leading to a hard drive full of files labelled “finish soon” and “draft”, and a notebook full of scratched out scribbles. It was like his brain had decided to abandon him, deciding it had had enough of his perpetual melancholy. He had felt drained and burnt out, a husk with no creative juices left. Luckily, Yoongi and a few of the producers had taken pity on his stressed out state and lent a hand so he had been able to finish the bare minimum three days ago - before the label pressured him further. He was never more grateful for a small break.
In all honesty, he needed a way to jumpstart his brain, and get out of the routine of home, practice, meetings, studio, home. Sometimes, he almost wished he didn’t have the success he had so he could go out and let loose a little - a club, a party, anything. But the last time he went somewhere like that he got swarmed and the police had to be involved. He couldn’t risk that, not after the trouble Big Hit went to threaten media outlets a year and a half ago, when he was caught with what they called a hickey, but was actually a stress rash.
As he brushed his teeth today, however, he smiled at the mirror. Last month may have been terrible, but last night was one of the best he’d had in the past year.
When he had heard Bang PD’s team talk about how they were attending the charity gala as he met them for notes on his songs, he was intrigued. He had read about this non-profit in the paper before. They seemed to be helping bridge the gap between people through communication and that spoke to him. So much so that he had scrolled through their website multiple times, reading testimonials and almost memorizing the mission statement. They wanted to help kids learn English for free so they could communicate globally. He really liked the idea. It was hard for him to learn the language as a kid and he knew that the only reason he became as fluent as he is from the tutors his parents paid for and his obsession with American television and music. Although he didn’t need the tutoring anymore, he did enjoy talking to the in-house tutor at the company, John, from time to time and improving his skills. The fact that this company wanted to add a John to every school in Korea starting from the rural areas, made Namjoon want to meet the man behind the movement. Little did he know, he’d be meeting the girl who’d shift his idea of the ideal.
He had never been more glad to have convinced his company to let him and the boys attend an event. He had initially suggested it as a way to break the mundane before their comeback practices started and network while supporting a cause he liked. Two days ago, he wouldn’t have guessed it would have been an actual fun night leading to him nursing a headache.
He spent the next hour reliving last night as he showered and caught up on the news. He also read the messages he sent last night over a hundred times and had butterflies each time. Wasn’t he too old for butterflies? He wanted to message you again but every time he tried, he ended up overthinking it. Everything sounded forced or cheesy, and it was worse than any writer’s block. He threw his phone on the bed in frustration watching it bounce and land on the floor, before he grabbed it and pocketed it. Hopping around to get rid of his nerves, he decided to take a break from rereading the thread he already had memorized and check in with everyone. If his hangover was this bad he couldn’t imagine theirs.
Making his way back to the living room he found Taehyung now sitting on the floor, sleep still very evident on his features as he yawned and groaned. On the couch next to him sat Yoongi, holding an iced americano and staring into space. The rest were missing but he could hear a blender annoyingly whizzing in the kitchen.
“How’re you guys feeling this morning?” He asked as he sat across from Yoongi.
“This is why I don’t drink. Why did no one stop me?” Taehyung whined as he rose from the floor to leave, massaging his head.
“We tried. You were very excited to try all the disgustingly sweet drinks the hot bartender was making for you.” Yoongi replied with a sigh. “How was your date, Namjoon? You glad I forced you to go to the bar to talk to her?” he snickered, sipping his coffee before exhaling loudly in contentment.
“Honestly, I owe you big time. She was… amazing. I don’t think I’ve talked to someone that comfortably in a while” Namjoon sighed wistfully.
“I’ll add cupid to my resume,” he deadpanned. “Is she tolerating you for another date?”
“Yeah. We’re getting dinner on Tuesday, but I want to message her now. Argh!” He ran his hands over his face in frustration. “What do I even say? ‘Hi I’m the guy who was too scared to kiss you all night so you had to do it for him, what’s your favourite colour?’” Namjoon was annoyed at himself. It’s bad enough that he was having writer’s block in his music, did he have to have it for something as simple as texting too? This was ridiculous!
“Or you could just ask her how’s her hangover today. Jeez! Do I have to draft each of your messages? Stop being a dumbass and text the person you like.” Yoongi scoffed, clearly over Namjoon’s sudden and uncharacteristic insecurities.
Namjoon gave a resigned sigh as he reached for his phone and wrote out exactly what Yoongi suggested. Hey, he was his hyung for a reason - he had a full 6 months of life experience on him.
Namjoon: Hey! Hope your hangover is not too bad today.
As soon as the message was sent, he started getting nervous. Tapping his foot incessantly while he stared at his phone, willing it to buzz, annoying Yoongi enough to leave him alone on the couch in the process.
Y/N: Hi to you too! I actually don’t get hangovers so I’m doing great lol. What about you?
Namjoon: What do you mean you don’t get hangovers?
Y/N: I don’t know. Can’t get dehydrated if you’re always dehydrated!
Namjoon: That… makes no sense. Do I need to start reminding you to drink water?
Y/N: Only if you’re better than this app on my phone…
Namjoon: I can guarantee you I’m better than any app on this planet.
Y/N: Wow. Big claims! We’ll have to put it to the test I suppose.
Y/N: You never told me how you’re feeling. Oh and how’s Taehyung? Is he okay?
Namjoon: He’s doing fine. Made a pact to never drink again and if i’m being honest, I’m going to join him. I am shocked that your head is not exploding as well.
The messages continued easily after that, filled with updates of each other’s activities, playful flirting and even photos of dinner. By the time Monday rolled around, you had been messaging each other constantly, with no end to the conversation in sight and the only long pauses being when you were both asleep or working. It seemed like you would never run out things to talk about. Namjoon hadn’t messaged someone this frequently since he got out of his last relationship. It felt nice to relay his mundane day to day events to someone and he found himself excited to hear about your mundane, like how you decided to mix two different types of bad coffee blends to make a shockingly worse one. He was surprised again at how fast he felt comfortable around you. It was even starting to scare him a little - he only knew you for three days and it felt like he had known you forever! What was this weird spell you had on him?
The conversation Monday, however, was fairly sparse, and Namjoon was eager to set up plans for the next day, so that night he decided to call you.
After the first three rings, he was overthinking his decision. Maybe it was too soon to call? Maybe you didn’t like talking on the phone? What if it went to voicemail? Would he have to leave a message? What would he say? His inner monologue was quickly halted at the sound of your voice.
“Hello, this is Y/N” you sounded distant, almost too formal. He felt nervous.
“Hi… uh… this is Namjoon. Is this a bad time?”
“Oh Namjoon! Sorry I didn’t check who called when I picked up!” Relief washed over him at the change of your tone. “Sorry one sec can you hold on.” he heard you say as your voice got mumbled. He waited while he heard you talk to someone about proposals and deadlines. Were you still at work? He checked his watch - it was 10 pm. He didn’t know whether to be impressed by your work ethic or worried that you were overworking.
“Hi sorry about that! How are you?” He relaxed at your airy tone and smiled.
“I’m good. Are you still at work?”
“Yeah it’s only like 7 so it’s no big deal. I usually leave around 8” Were you serious?
“Y/N… It’s 10:04…” He was shocked at how nonchalant you sounded, and suddenly he had his answer - he was worried, not impressed. He had known you for three days and already you were setting his caretaker alarm off. He wanted to scold you for being careless and overworking, like he’s used to doing for the boys, but he knew it was too soon. He doesn’t even know why he’s feeling that way all of a sudden and tried to suppress his protective instincts.
“No it’s not! It’s…” He could hear your voice going further away as he imagined you moving the phone in front of you to check the time. “Oh shit you’re right. What the hell? Okay sorry I’m gonna put you on hold again.” Before he could say anything he heard your voice again, distant again but loud. “Oh my god. Guys, it’s 10pm. Go home! Why did nobody tell me? No it doesn’t matter we can do that tomorrow. Please go home. Pack up now! You too Siwon, don’t worry I’ll go home after I get off the phone. See you!” He smiled at the sternness of your tone - it reminded him of a teacher dismissing class.
“Sorry about that. I didn’t realize I overworked my team. Had to send the troops home” you laughed and Namjoon felt his heart flutter.
“I don’t wanna keep you from going home. I can call you back once you get there,” he offered. He felt bad that you were staying in an empty office on his account.
“Oh don’t worry about it. It was a lie to get Siwon off my back. I’m probably gonna be here till like 1 or something. I still have to get this done” you said matter-of-factly, like it was the most normal thing in the world. He knew that tone fairly well, having used it multiple times himself when he locked himself in his studio, running on nothing but coffee and energy bars.
“Okay I know we’ve only just met and we have our first date tomorrow, but do you want some company?” He asked before he could stop himself. The line was silent for a bit, and he felt self conscious, scared that he had overstepped and driven you away. Before he could check his phone to see if you had hung up you spoke.
“It’d be pretty boring for you to watch me just type away. Are you sure? It’s pretty late.” He was sure his cheeks would hurt from how wide he smiled.
“It’s not a problem at all. I was going to work tonight too.” He wasn’t. “We can just work together. I’ll bring food. Did you eat yet?” his words tumbled over each other.
“How very college of you.” He could hear you giggling on the line. “Now that I think about it - I’m starving.”
“Okay text me the address, I’ll be there soon.”
He had never been this excited to pretend to work.
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He spotted you as he walked through the doors of the 13th floor, pepperoni pizza in hand. You were sitting at a long desk near the middle of the room. He was surprised as he expected you in an office, but he found you typing away at your desktop. Your hair was tied up in a bun and you were dressed in an oversized beige t-shirt, eyebrows furrowed head bopping to the hip hop track playing through the speakers. You seemed to be in your own little world. He felt like he was spying on you as he leaned against the door watching but he also liked seeing how you acted when you thought no one was watching. He was about to announce his presence when the track changed to a Childish Gambino one and you whooped and started to rap along.
You were now fully head banging and rapping the verse at the top of your lungs. He would be impressed by your fairly good amateur skills if he didn’t find the entire scene so endearing. His heart was doing somersaults as he watched you now fully engrossed in the song, typing forgotten as you got up and started to pretend you were on stage, an imaginary mic in your hand asking haters if they “eatin’ though”. You looked so adorable that he couldn’t help but squeal a little “cute!”
That’s when you saw him, eyes wide. He felt a little bad when he saw how embarrassed you looked, immediately stopping and slapping a hand to your mouth before bursting out in nervous laughter. He could write a whole album with that laugh. Oh he was so whipped, he thought to himself as he made his way to you.
“You know you’re not half bad!” He exclaimed as he set the pizza on the table, pulling a chair next to yours and settling down.
“Do you think your fake compliments will save you from the fact that you were spying on me?” you asked, crossing your hands across your chest, pretending to scowl but failing to do so.
“First, real compliment. Second, would pizza save me?” He opened the box and proudly smiled, loving the way your eyes lit up as you reached for a slice.
“Yes it will!” you exclaimed as you took your first bite, lightly moaning at the taste. “But erase that memory from your brain please.”
“Nope. Never. It was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen and I’m going to save it forever” he said as he also started on his slice. You pouted up at him, cheeks puffed and it took all the self-control he had to not kiss it off your face. He hadn’t felt this way in so long, it was like you were his first crush. Trying to control his pulse, he asked “What are you working on so late?”
“Oh I have a proposal due for a meeting tomorrow at noon and I’m only halfway through it,” you frowned wistfully at the screen as if willing it to type on its own.
“Can I help?” He asked, knowing fully well that he couldn’t. He just had an overwhelming urge to make that frown disappear.
“You being here is help enough,” you smiled sincerely as you looked at him and he felt his heart explode, a blush creeping on his cheeks as he smiled bashfully. “What are you working on?”
“I have a few songs I have to finish the lyrics for. Been procrastinating” he rubbed the back of his neck as he pulled out the notebook from his back pocket.
“Can I help?” you echoed his question to which he echoed your response grinning. He wasn’t lying though. Even though he had planned to not really work, as the night progressed he found the change from his usual writing spot inspiring. Sitting next to you, the sound of the keyboard clicking was soothing leading to words pouring out of him. He filled pages as he stole glances at you concentrating on your proposal, tongue peeking from between your lips, still bobbing to the music which was now playing from your airpods instead of the speakers. He smiled at the sight, before focusing on his notebook.
After about an hour or so of hard work, he finished three songs that he had allotted himself the whole week to do. This was the most productive hour he had all month. Antsy for a break, he looked over at you and found you staring at him, a hand under your chin. As he met your gaze you smiled.
“You’re really hot when you concentrate. Has anyone ever told you that?” you commented. He was taken aback by your remark, heart fluttering at your smirking face. Not missing his chance and spurred on by the comment, he scooted closer in one sweep till your knees touched and you were face to face.
“You’re one to talk. I couldn’t stop looking at you this past hour.” Gazing into your eyes, he was amused to see your smirk disappear as it was now your turn to be shocked. He reached out and tucked a stray hair behind your ear letting his hand linger, enjoying the way you sighed as he did. “Can I make good on my promise now?” He whispered, his face centimeters away, looking at your lips. The way you bit your lower lip made him want to take you there and then. The desk looked big enough. Hell, even if it wasn’t he could make it work.
“Promise?” you whispered as he watched your eyes flutter to his lips.
“To kiss you first…” Too impatient to wait for your answer, he brought his lips to yours, relishing how soft they felt under his own. He was thrilled at you returning the kiss, deepening it as you grabbed the collar of his shirt to bring him closer just like you did after the party. He was beginning to think this was your signature move, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t immensely turn him on. He moved his hand cupping your face to rest on your neck and he could feel your heartbeat mimicking his. He put his other hand around your waist pulling you closer, wanting to be as close to you as he could get. He traced his tongue over your lips, his head cloudy with endorphins as you opened your mouth inviting him in. He had never tasted something so euphoric, his tongue exploring yours in a rush.
He could feel you pushing forward as he leaned back and allowed you to straddle his lap, your legs on either side of the chair. As soon as you were on his lap, he pulled you closer, both arms around on your hips, your chest flushed with his. He kissed the side of your mouth as he made his way down your jaw to your neck. You smelt like vanilla mixed with a fresh flower garden, and he was sure this smell was better than any drug in the world. He could hear your breathy moans as he sucked where your neck met your collarbone, licking to soothe it before moving further. He wanted to taste all of you. Your hands were in his hair and each tug made him groan into you, making him harder. He could kiss you like this forever. He wanted to save this moment so he could come back to it and relive it. He traced his hands up and down your sides, moving under your shirt but remaining on your waist, enjoying the feel of your soft skin.
“Namjoon… Namjoon… slow down” he heard you say breathlessly as he felt a slight push. He looked up at you, your eyes half lidded and lusty as you grabbed his face and brought it to yours. You were sending him mixed signals, but he didn’t care as long as he could keep kissing you.
“We have to slow down or I’m going to want to fuck you right here.” You whined as you both came back up for air, but you kissed him again nevertheless. Hearing you say that made him want to do anything in his power to make that happen.
“I don’t mind, baby,” he said against your lips, kissing you with urgency, biting your lower lip and pulling it gently to elicit another moan from you. To his disappointment, you seemed to have better self-control than him as you pushed him back, both of you panting as you struggled to catch your breath. He moved his hand back to your hips tracing little circles, feeling comforted by you smoothing his hair you had pulled earlier.
“There are cameras here. I’d rather not make a sex tape on our first date.” You giggled as you pointed to the black sphere in the corner of the room. He had never hated the obsession buildings had for security more, but the crudeness of your comment made him laugh. He had almost forgotten this was your first date, it felt like he had kissed you a thousand times before. You tasted like the relief of an awning in the middle of a summer downpour.
“I think we need to cool down,” you say as you climb off of his lap. “Let’s go.”
He followed you as you led him to the little kitchenette near the end of the room, unable to resist the urge to wrap his hands around your waist in a back hug. He knew he was being too clingy for a first date, but the way you giggled and put your hands over his gave him assurance.
“Lemonade, coke, or water,” you asked as you peered into the fridge.
“You.” He smirked kissing your neck, feeling bold off of the high from your makeout session.
“Joon!” you pretended to sound scandalized as you turned in his arms, smiling warmly. The nickname made his heart swell. It added a familiarity that he didn’t know he missed from you.
“You haven’t called me Joon before. I like it” he smiled as he pecked your lips.
“Hey! We are cooling down! No kissing! Now pick” you chided and Namjoon couldn’t help but wonder if you were this assertive in bed too, a million scenarios playing in his head. Okay, you were right, he needed to cool down.
“I’ll just have water, thanks,” he said as he grabbed the bottle you passed him, opening and gulping half of it. He hadn’t realized how thirsty he was for something other than you. You both made your way to the tables, sitting across from each other.
“So did you finish your proposal?” He asked trying to cool himself but failing as he noticed you running the cold water bottle against your neck, the beads of condensation dripping on your shirt. He cleared his throat as he tried to focus his attention on your eyes, a mantra of stay focused playing in his head.
“Yes! Finally! It’s perfect.” you smiled proudly and somehow he felt a wave of pride too. “What about you? Made any progress?”
“Actually yes. I kind of finished my entire week’s writing in that one hour” he was still amazed by his own progress.
“Okay, Mr Overachiever” you joked and he chuckled.
“To be honest, I didn’t think I’d be able to write anything, but I don’t know your presence is kind of soothing. It helped me focus.” Watching your smile grow wide, he continued, “I’ve been having pretty severe burnout this past month and it has just been hard to put down my thoughts, even non-lyrical ones.” He fidgeted with the water bottle as he looked at it, avoiding eye contact.
He didn’t know why he was telling you this. He recalled when he told you about his struggles as a leader during your first conversation. Somehow being around you led him to vomit out his feelings. It was… unlike him. Namjoon was usually not this honest on dates, or relationships, as much as he would hate to admit it. That’s the reason he broke off his last one. He felt bad lying to her about a busy schedule when he just wanted to be alone. She would have understood, she was kind and thoughtful, but it just felt easier to lie and not put the effort in to explain his thoughts. Even when they broke up, he lied and told her that it was because he couldn’t handle being in a relationship at the moment, when in reality things had cooled off a while ago and he felt guilty as his feelings faded.
He felt your hand reach out and grab one of his, intertwining your fingers. He felt comforted by the gesture as you rubbed your thumb across him before you spoke two words that warmed his heart. “I understand.”
“You know it’s hard to work at full speed all the time. It’s okay to not be at a hundred all the time. The valleys feed the peaks” you continued. It was a simple remark, but it sounded surprisingly poetic to him. He hadn’t felt this understood outside of the boys for a long time. It was refreshing. It was terrifying. He resisted his natural urge to run and hide.
“Are you speaking from experience?” he asked, needing to divert the attention away from his own vulnerabilities.
“Yeah. I had it pretty tough a couple of years ago. Too much pressure from myself, too many expectations. Led to too many vices and panic attacks” you shrugged as you continued and he squeezed your hand to comfort you. “It creeps up from time to time but my therapist and I have it handled” He looked at you in awe. You hadn’t given him a throwaway answer or switched the limelight back at him. You wasted no time in being as vulnerable as him, if not more. He knew at that moment that regardless of where this thing went, he wanted you to know you better.
“Thank you for being honest.” He brought your hand to his lips and kissed it gently. It was an intimate gesture but he wanted you to know how much he appreciated your words - how much he appreciated you - in that moment. You both sat in comfortable silence for a little while, playing with each other’s hands that were still intertwined, till one of you yawned loudly causing the other to giggle. With the weight of the conversation lifting, you both fell back into playful banter as you decided to pack up and call it a night.
“Do you want me to walk you to your car?” Namjoon asked, wanting to drag the night on longer despite it already being almost 2 am.
“Don’t judge me but I actually don’t know how to drive. I was just going to cab back.” he saw you giggle bashfully as you pulled your backpack over your shoulders.
“Oh, no judgment here! Me neither” he laughed. Why does everyone think it is such a big deal to not drive? It’s better for the environment! “Do you want to take one together? I don’t really want you to ride alone this late.” He rubbed the back of his neck, hoping he didn’t come off as if he was trying to dictate what you did.
“I’d really like that,” you said as you walked towards the elevators. He held your hand as you both got on, liking the way you moved closer to him at that.
In the cab you both sat closer than necessary, his arm wrapped around you as you both made plans for your scheduled date later that day, trying not to doze off. When the cab stopped all too soon at your apartment, he kissed you gently as he told you how much he enjoyed your company.
That night laying in bed, his heart felt full as he read your goodnight message. He was sure of it now. He really wanted you in his life.
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passable-talent · 4 years ago
Note
Hey please continue your Zuko fic as soon as possible! I love it so much!
oh I’m so surprised I got this request within hours of posting part 3 👀👀
agsbfjcjs I tease I’m loving this series too
well everyone, here we are again
| part 1 | part 2 | part 3 |
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“Who’s Mai?”
Zuko’s eyebrows moved a bit in confusion before it registered that you might’ve been asleep, that night, when he told you of his old girlfriend. And even then, he hadn’t mentioned her name. Slowly his hands pulled from where they had kept gentle grip on your biceps.
“I, uh,” he stuttered, “let’s find somewhere to talk.” You let him lead you into a room in the temple up toward the top of the cliff, far away from the rest of the team, and even Haru or the Duke weren’t likely to come up here.
Uneasy, you settled down against the wall, one leg extended in front of you and the other bent, it’s foot flat on the ground. You did your best to feel for Zuko’s heartbeat, like Toph could, to determine sincerity. You couldn’t sense it well enough yet, having barely gotten a grasp on seismic sense in the first place, and let your knee fall to the side.
“So who’s Mai?” You asked again as he sat down against a wall adjacent to yours. Not too close, but not too far away.
“An old girlfriend I had before I was banished. We spent some time together when I returned to the Fire Nation, but... it didn’t feel right. I’m not the same as I was before I was banished.” Any number of snarky replies came into your mind, but you didn’t respond, merely waiting for him to continue.
“Well, Sokka and I, we went to the Boiling Rock, a high profile prison in the Fire Nation. We were trying to pass as guards, but I got found out, and kept as prisoner.” You leaned forward with concern, for a moment forgetting the point of the conversation as you worried for him.
“Are you alright?”
“Yeah, nothing happened,” Zuko said, tossing his head to the side in a bit of guilt. “But the warden... the warden was her uncle, and she came in to see me.” You raised an eyebrow, leaned back to press your spine to the wall, interested in where this would go.
“I had written her a letter, before I left, and it wasn’t a very good one. I hadn’t known what to say. She was pissed, and threw it at me, and scolded me, and...” he shook his head, and looked down at his feet.
“It wasn’t good.” At this point, you began to wonder why he was telling you all of this. As much as you were more likely to air on the side of finding fault in his actions, it seemed to you like nothing had happened. There was nothing for you to be angry about- he hadn’t had some tearful declaration of love or anything, so what was the issue?
“I locked her in my cell to get away so that Sokka and I could escape with Hakoda and Suki. I feel kinda bad about that, but she got out, so whatever.” You tilted your head, not giving him the luxury of avoiding eye contact. You weren’t quite glaring, but you did find yourself trying to intimidate as best you could.
It was a good wall to build around you.
“And I feel so confused,” he said, closing his eyes and clenching his fists, “because I don’t understand. I wasn’t a good boyfriend even when we were ‘together’ earlier in the summer, and I wrote her a bad letter, and I left, and I locked her in a cell, and she still helped me escape. She stood up against Azula to help me escape.” This caught your attention, as you knew the guts it would’ve taken to stand up to the psychopathic princess. It was a sacrifice- it would’ve made her just as much an enemy to the Fire Nation as Zuko.
“I just don’t get it,” he said again, and you looked away from him.
“Ever considered that you’re sometimes a pretty good guy and that people care about you?” You said, without pausing on any particular word because you wanted to get the statement done and over with quickly. With your foot pressed to the floor you could sense through seismics the way his head jerked up to look at you, even if you didn’t look at him.
“You think so?” He asked, and a quick laugh made your chest jump once.
“Sometimes,” you said, turning your gaze back to him. “Was this all you wanted to talk to me about? Figure out why she would do that for you?”
“Well, that, and...” he pushed a few strands of hair from his face in nervousness. “I just wanted to be honest with you. When we met, I- I did nothing but lie, and I don’t want to lie to you ever again. I want you to know everything. Including the awkward moment I had with my ex-girlfriend.” Slowly a plan formed in your mind, and you narrowed your eyes in focus.
“Why does what you do with ex-girlfriends concern me?” You asked, and his eyes met yours, slight confusion in his expression. He swallowed, working out your meaning. This was his opportunity- would he say he cared about you? That he loved you? That he wanted you to not be jealous because his heart now belonged with you?
“You know why,” he said after a moment’s pause, eyes still locked on yours and voice low. A small smirk came to your face.
“I’m afraid I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Y/N,” he said quickly, voice almost firm. He paused to gather his courage and knotted his fingers into the fabric of his pants. “I care about you. And I wanted you to know that you don’t need to worry about Mai.” He paused a moment longer, finally breaking eye contact, which was a great relief to you.
“And even I know you don’t feel the same right now, but I know you did once, and I’m trying to earn that back again.” You swallowed hard, your gaze on the side of his face now that he’d turned it from you. With a split second decision you scooted closer, sitting beside him, and leaning your shoulder against his. You had to make moves like this, and the hug from before he had left, because if you didn’t, you’d never learn to. You were reaching out of your comfort zone, slowly, just like he was.
“I can’t trust you,” you whispered, feeling as though the two of you would break apart and scatter if either spoke too loud. “Not yet.”
“I know,” he said back, the badger frogs filling the silence between the two of you.
“But I’m getting there,” you said, resting your head onto his shoulder. “You’re earning it back, slowly.” He nodded, and the two of you fell into a comfortable silence. You let your eyes skip closed, and for a moment felt as though you could fall asleep, leaned against him like this.
This was how you had leaned on him when you were exhausted and on break from the Jasmine Dragons. You’d rest your feet and lean on him, and the two of you would talk until the break was over. It was so familiar, the sound of his breathing, the firmness of his muscle.
“You think you can ever trust me again?” Zuko asked, vulnerability in his voice, “After what I’ve done to you?”
“I think so,” you said, breathing softly. “I did once. And deep down, you’re that same guy. When you were in Ba Sing Se, you were guided by nothing but the kindness you were shown by your uncle. I’m not foolish- I know that Azula manipulated you. I know that, even though you aren’t the pure soul I thought at first, that you’re not the hunter that Katara thinks you are, either.” You changed your neck position, almost nuzzling your face into his shoulder. “Give me time. Show me you can be someone I should trust.” You heard him nod, and your eyes drifted closed.
When on the edge of falling asleep, sounds change. They’re heard, but not processed, merely accepted as background noise in a world fading away. It was like this, halfway between sleep and wake, when nothing was processed nor even remembered, that you heard Zuko promise.
“I promise I’ll become a man you can let yourself love.”
request for a part 5
edit: part 5 has been multiple times requested it’s all good
edit: | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 |
-🦌 Roe
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floralseokjin · 5 years ago
Text
;cyber sex (m)
FIRST LOVE, LAST LOVE
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⟨gif credit⟩
You want to partake in some “cyber” sex...
pairing; jeon jungkook x reader  genre/warnings;  smut, fluff, skype sex, or as oc puts it, cybersex, sex toy usage (here 😘) words; 3,038
more﹆chapter index
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“Are your parents in bed?” 
On the screen, Jungkook looked a little on edge, jittery almost. Like he was doing something illegal. 
“My dad is. Mom’s downstairs catching up on soap operas.” 
He still looked a little unsure. “How was your day?” 
You shifted on your bed, crossing your legs, your laptop jumped slightly, pixelated Jungkook bouncing around for a second. Internet at your parents’ house had always been shitty but he still made a bunch of cute pixels. 
“I’d love to small talk, Jungkook, I really would, but I woke up wanting sex and have been horny ever since.” 
You were expecting him to log on all eager and possibly already halfway to naked, but he’d appeared in sweats, back against the headboard of your shared bed, legs stretched out where laptop you was placed on his thighs. 
You watched him hesitate and grew annoyed. “What happened to being up for this?” 
This afternoon he’d been eager, possibly even cocky when you’d texted him over lunch. Your mom gossiping in your ear about her co-worker’s so called affair while you passively listened and arranged sex plans with your boyfriend...
There had been a time you were too embarrassed to even think about masturbating in your family home, but like Jungkook kept saying, you were a grown ass woman now, not still in high school or even in college. Those days had long past you by. You were a hot blooded female with needs. Needs for your super hot, super sweet boyfriend. There was really no need to be ashamed. You were going to participate in some cyber sex, no matter how much Jungkook laughed at your awkward phrasing. 
[You: 01:34pm]  Are you busy tonight? 
[JK: 01:36pm]  if eating cheetos in bed by 8 is busy then yes 
[You: 01:37pm]  Don’t you dare bitch 
[JK: 01:37pm]  why do you want to know if im busy? 
[You: 01:38pm]  cybersex 2300 hours 
[JK: 01:38pm]  Cybersex 😭😭 no one calls it that weirdo  but see you there my morning wood misses yoir ass 
Here right now, Jungkook made a noise, arguing with you. “I am up for this. It’s just your parents...” 
You rolled your eyes. He was a grown ass man and he was afraid of your parents. More so your dad. He’d taken a while to warm up to Jungkook—you blame the tattoos. But that was years ago when you’d first started dating. Your dad liked Jungkook now. Honest. 
“My dad’s asleep. I can hear him snoring,” you commented, giggling. 
Jungkook groaned. Way to ruin the mood, he was probably thinking. “That doesn’t help.” 
“Come ooonnn,” you whined, leaning into the screen. You knew your robe was dipping in the middle, already tied deliberately lose. He had a great view of your cleavage, however muted because of the shitty lamp lighting. “I miss youuuu.” 
Jungkook scoffed quietly. “And you’re making it worse. I wanna touch you for real.” He was speaking low, pouting really, but you caught his hand that slid across the front of his sweatpants. Was that some inconspicuous rubbing you’d spotted? Naughty. 
You leant back again and tried not to grin in triumph. Jungkook 0, your tits 1 once again. 
He carried on his rant. “I want you in this bed. In this house. I can’t wait 4 more days!” 
Diddums. He was a child, you swore. “Should’ve come with me then.” 
He was rubbing his crotch again, you didn’t think he realised he was doing it. “You know that’s only reserved for a Christmas every two years.” 
Yeah, like you said, he was terrified of your father. It was probably why he hadn’t proposed yet, too scared to ask for your dad’s blessing. Not that you would say that to his face. And not like you wanted to get married anytime soon, it was just only natural to think of those things. You had been together for years after all. 
You didn’t reply, instead shifting on the bed once more to spread your legs a little. You hiked one up, robe falling open to reveal the triangle of skin between your legs. You meant business.
“What’re you doing?” He practically stuttered, sitting up straighter against the headboard.
“I’m not wearing any underwear.” 
“I can see that.” 
You began to rub the pad of your index finger across your clit. Sensitivity shocking your body and you fought with yourself not to snap your legs closed. You softened the impact, slowly circling before slipping down your folds and collecting the moisture to drag back up to your clit. Agonisingly slow now because you wanted to tease the hell out of your boyfriend. Despite the near darkness, he had eyes like a hawk. “You’re wet already.” Maybe he could see it glistening through the camera. Or maybe he was just starting his descent…
“Like I said, I’ve been horny since this morning.” You ever so slightly dipped the tip of your finger inside yourself. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d played with yourself like this in front of him. It was fun. Especially because he was hanging onto each movement like his life depended on it. 
“Jungkook,” you nudged. 
“Mm?” It was just one sound, too far gone now. 
You murmured the next part, voice low and heavy, laced with a desperateness you’d felt all day. “Get your dick out.”
He didn’t argue. You let yourself grin in victory, ogling him as pushed a hand into his sweatpants and pulled out that thick, hot cock you’d been fantasising about since 7am. 
He ran his fist along it, definitely not lazily. Tugging at the head, his thumb rubbed the drops of precum across his slit. You clenched and pulsed down below. Unfair move. Your image of him was grainy and unlit but he looked just as hot as he always did. Maybe it was time to unveil your secret weapon... 
“Goodnight, love.” 
You jumped immediately at the sound of your mom’s voice, hand jerking away from between your legs. You’d been so distracted you hadn’t even heard her coming up the stairs. 
Your took a quick breath and tried to sound normal, praying you could keep your voice level. “Goodnight mom!” You succeeded, but only just you were sure of it. 
You heard the click of the bathroom door and turned your attention back to Jungkook, eyes wide. His were too. “Jesus christ,” he muttered, sounding annoyed. “This was a dumb idea.” He was sat forward, dick back in his pants, tops of his cheeks rosy, either from the jerking off or the near close call. Probably both. 
You tried to refrain from giggling but failed. “She wasn’t going to just barge in here.” 
Both waiting a few seconds, it wasn’t long before your mom exited the bathroom and shut the door to her bedroom. You untied your robe, relaxing into the bed instantly. You weren’t losing this moment. 
Jungkook groaned slightly, eyes apprehensively raking over your practically naked body. “This is so wrong.” 
“Relax, we’re alone,” you insisted. “Just remember to be quiet.” You’d use your earphones but you’d forgotten them, remembering as soon as you’d boarded the plane. 
“I’m alone.” He corrected, now sounding sorry for himself. Jeez, it was as if you weren’t spread out like a human buffet. “I miss you. Can’t you come home right now?”
Jungkook did not do well at being alone at all. It was cute. You smiled at him softly, running your hand down your stomach and between your legs. “But I wanna cum right nowww.” 
“Fine.” His stare hardened, watching the way you rubbed at the bundle of nerves. “You cum and then come home. Then I fuck you. Properly. None of this Skype shit.” 
You laughed, genuinely amused. He was such a baby. You watched him lift his t-shirt over his head. Taking initiative, you liked that. His hair fell in his eyes and he shook it away. He’d finally had a haircut a few weeks ago, but it grows fast, which was possibly a good thing because you really, really missed that long hair of his. 
Your eyes fell down to his chest and across his shoulders. He had a few tattoos that decorated his torso, amongst other places, but they mainly covered his arms. Speaking of which you clenched and pulsed again, just imagining those arms wrapped around you, squeezing you tight, hands pinning you to the bed... Shit. You really wanted to fuck him for real. 
You splayed around against the bedsheets, arching your back a little and Jungkook raised an eyebrow. “Take your robe off. Keep your bra on.” He sounded demanding, it wasn’t intentional, lost to the urge right now as usual, but you loved it when he ordered you about, even more so when he didn’t realise he was doing it. 
You quickly got to it, snapping at your bra straps as you lied back down, propped up by your elbows. “Is this actually sexy?” You’d done this a handful of times but that was back in college. Now older, it seemed more daunting. 
“Of course it is, babe,” Jungkook reassured. On cue he got his cock out again. He was still hard. 
You watched him rake his hand along himself a few times and then grinned. “I have something.” 
He raised an eyebrow again, curious but also clueless, and watched you pull something out from under the sheets. A glittery, rubbery thing that made his eyes light up. 
“You brought a dildo to your parents’ house?” He asked after a split second of silence. You nodded, biting down on your lip, holding the specimen up to the screen. He caught the look on your face and chuckled. “You planned this?” He sounded impressed. 
“Thought it would be fun.” You tried to sound casual but maybe you were a little nervous? Embarrassed? There was no need to be. You’d had a sexual fantasy and had acted on it... Jungkook was just as into it. Hm, maybe it was the being naked over cam that was making you feel so jittery? 
Jungkook eyed Miss Jessica Rabbit and laughed again. “Only you would arrange a visit to your parents’ place just so we could participate in some ‘cybersex’.” 
Joking aside, he was eager to begin. You could tell by the look in his eyes and by the way he’d straightened his back, leaning in closer for a better look. You didn’t feel nervy anymore. You were back in the zone. 
“Cybersex sounds cool, I don’t know why you find it so funny.” 
Jungkook rolled his eyes affectionately. “You’re adorable, that’s why I find it so funny.” 
“Lameee.” You sang. But now you were running the head of the vibrator along your slit, spreading your legs in the process.
Jungkook watched you carefully, still stroking his dick with leisure. “I’m surprised you didn’t get caught at security with that thing.” He was making casual conversation but his voice sounded strained. He kept having to swallow. “Hiding a giant vibrator in your clothing.” 
“Can you imagine?” You’d die of embarrassment right there on the spot. 
“I‘d come bail you out, don’t worry.” 
You giggled at his silliness. Who was going to tell him you couldn’t get arrested for carrying a vibrator in your luggage? 
However, soon the mood for small talk was over, only distracting at this point. Or maybe what was distracting was now the vibrator beginning to stretch out your insides. It was a little uncomfortable at first, maybe you were just too well aware your parents were a few feet away, or maybe you were just out of practice when it came to fucking yourself. 
Jungkook helped though, whispering encouragements and giving you useful tips, which only made you wetter; so yes, a huge help. It wasn’t long before you got a rhythm going, not long before your breathing quickened and you were trying really hard not to moan out loud. 
Jungkook matched your movements, now jerking himself off with vigour. You watched one another, fully at ease and lost in your own little world. 
“This is so unfairrr,” he grunted soon enough, burning a hole between your legs. His newly sworn enemy, Miss Jessica Rabbit. “I want my dick inside you, not some phoney.” 
You moaned quietly, agreeing of course. Nothing felt as good as Jungkook inside you. Nothing ever had. You clicked a button on the toy and the first level of vibrations started. 
You lifted your head a little, trying to gauge the sound. “Is that too loud?” 
He shook his head. “I think you’re good. Fuck.” He cursed because you were now grinding up against the ears of the bunny, vibrations against your clit sending you all gooey and warm. “Go faster.” 
You listened, the length of the vibrator now slipping in fully as your insides finally loosened up, no longer tense. You rolled to your side a little and like that you found your g-spot. Pleasure began to burst behind your eyes and you almost forgot Jungkook was there because now you’d remembered how to use this damn thing and there was no going back. 
You clicked another button, powering up the shaft as the pearls inside the rubber began to rotate. You bit down on your lip, desperate not to make a sound and you cursed yourself. Why did you think this was a good idea? Pleasure screamed at you but you must keep quiet. 
“Babe... Baby,” Jungkook was trying to get your attention. “Baby, get on your back again. I wanna see.” 
You slowly listened, knowing you had been restricting his view and try to fuck yourself on your back. You planted your feet on the bed, kicking the laptop to the centre in the process and hoped now that he had a good view. 
Whatever he saw, he liked, moaning maybe a little bit too loudly. You’d turn the volume down if you could move, but you can’t, too paralysed with pleasure. “This is so fucking hot.” He was legit growling, it sent a fire through your veins. 
He watched you buck your hips into the vibrator over and over again, struggling a little to keep thrusting the shaft inside of you, but you think he found that hot. You were close. You knew it. Lips spread apart, your clit was swollen and greedy for pleasure, sensitive to the titillating vibrations and your walls squeezed and began to spasm around the thick rubber, the rotating sensation you felt making you tremble all over. Your wrist hurt but it was a good kind of pain, burning, making you work hard for your release. 
“Wish you were here to fuck me better, baby,” you purred, because despite how amazing this felt Jungkook could make you feel a pleasure ten times greater. “Does your hand feel good?“
You couldn’t see him, flat on your back, eyes shut, face directed at the ceiling, but you could hear the sound of skin on skin. His palm raking up and down the rock hard flesh of his cock. 
“Don’t rub it in,” he chided, voice low. Ha. Because that was exactly what he was doing. Luckily you were too out of breath to drop a shit pun. 
Your lower half suddenly spasmed and you stifled a cry. You couldn’t hold on any longer. “Shit,” you gasped. “I forgot how strong this thing was.” 
“Yeah? I’ll cum if you cum.” 
That’s all you needed to hear. It wasn’t even five seconds later before you were coming. Like an explosion, thigh and vagina muscles clenching, toes curling into the sheets and your chest heaving, sweat beading at your hairline. Miraculously you managed to stay silent. Albeit your breathing. You ceased movement immediately, removing the pressure against your clit before turning the vibrations off. The shaft was still rotating inside you, nerves twitching in your thigh before you ended those too and slid the vibrator out with a silent pop. You threw it to your side. Your whole body tingled but you urged yourself to come to, to open your eyes and lean up on your elbows. Jungkook still needed to cum and you wanted to watch. Just like he watched you. 
“Good, baby?” He asked. His eyes were black, breathing shallow. His fist still tugged at his dick, desperate now. 
“Mm hm,” you nodded, feeling a little chilly now the thrill had worn off. 
Jungkook grunted a command. “Spread your legs a little. I’m close.” You listened without question, giving him what he wanted. 
You watched the veins protrude from his forearms, some painted black with the ink of his tattoos. The hand not wrapped around his cock cupped his balls ever so slightly, tugging on them a little before he tensed and groaned. The first spurt of cum shot out and landed on his stomach, then another, it slipped into the lines of his abs. The third load slowed and he tugged his fingers tight across the tip, over and over again, draining each drop. It thickened in the air and slid down his length, getting on his fingers too. You observed all this greedily. What a sight to behold. 
A couple of tissues later for him and your robe tied back around your body, you were both grinning and giggling like a pair of idiots together, still on a high. 
“We need to incorporate that into the real deal more,” Jungkook said, referring to the vibrator now stood on your bedside table. “Let me be in charge.” 
“It’s got to make its way back home first,” you joked. 
You had climbed into bed by now, welcoming the warmth and annoyingly your eyes started to feel heavy. 
“You tired?” Jungkook noticed straight away. 
“I can stay up a little longer,” you insisted, wanting to chat with him before you fell asleep. A text or a phone call just wasn’t the same, and even though it’s only been a few days, you missed him like crazy. “What did you eat for dinner?” You asked, making small talk. 
He raised both eyebrows, eyes wide. “Do you really want me to answer that?” 
No, probably not. You knew the answer already. 
It was always a ramen diet for Jungkook when you were away...  
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Written 2020. Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2020
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benedictscanvas · 4 years ago
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all the wrong places [6/7] - spencer reid x reader
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader
Word Count: 2.2k
Summary: It only takes a moment for Spencer to realise that he doesn’t just want to marry you someday, he wants to marry you as soon as he possibly can. But since he can’t come up with a solid plan, he turns to his BAU family for help in planning the most important day of his life so far. Is that a mistake? Most definitely.
Warnings: Series probably aren’t meant to be exclusively fluffy, but this one practically is! I need some fluff in my life, damn it! There may be some mention of regular Criminal Minds things, some language but mostly just good ol’ Spence lovin’
---
Chapter Six - Plain and Simple
He lets Rossi’s words ricochet around his mind for the rest of the day. As he packed up their stuff at the police precinct and laughed at Derek’s insistence on just how excited he was to get back to Savannah. As he pretended to be asleep on the jet with his head in your lap and your fingers in his hair. As he drove the two of you home. As he listened to your breathing even out, staring at the ceiling, unable to stop his mind from racing.
Rossi was right. And annoying. And right.
He was still thinking about it when he arrived at work the next morning and Hotch called him into his office within two minutes of his arrival. He looked at you confused, but you simply shrugged, pushing him towards the office with insistence. He shut the door behind him when he entered.
“Everything alright, Hotch?”
“Sit down, Reid.”
Well, that wasn’t a yes. He sat down regardless and waited patiently for Hotch to start talking. Hotch was taking his time, walking at what felt like a snail’s pace to his chair, sitting down, getting comfortable-
“Sir? Is something wrong?”
Spencer wasn’t as patient as he wished. It was something you frequently said you found adorable, but nevertheless it was something he should perhaps think about working on in the future.
“Frankly?” Hotch said, which wasn’t the answer Spencer had been expecting, “Yes, there is something. This upcoming proposal of yours. I’m worried it’s affecting your work.”
“I’m sorry?”
“You’ve tried to propose...four times now?”
“I think it’s five…” Spencer mumbled and Hotch tried not to grimace.
“Clearly you’re getting in your head about it and worrying too much. Since this is on your mind, I wonder if you’d like me to keep you apart on cases, just for a while.”
“I really don’t think that’s-“
“It’s a suggestion, Reid, not a declaration.”
Spencer paused before he answered again. On the one hand, the ring in his satchel had become heavier and heavier as time went on. Looking at you without blurting out every single plan he had for the two of you in the future was becoming harder with each passing second. Was his ability to do his job being hindered by being around you all the time?
No. He was sure that wasn’t true. Since being with you, the both of you had only gotten better at work. You understood each other without having to try, you listened to each other’s thoughts without question, you knew how to keep your relationship professional. Hotch’s worries were unfounded.
“Sir, with all due respect, I don’t think that will be necessary. Y/N and I have always worked well together and I don’t think there’s any evidence to the contrary in recent months. Unless you see it differently?”
“No, I don’t. I was only offering the option, Reid,” Hotch looked vaguely amused, if Reid had gotten anywhere with reading the stoic face he had grown accustomed to over the years, “A personal question, but why do think you’re struggling with this so much?”
Spencer sighed. Sunk into his chair a little further.
“When I first decided to propose, I wanted it to be objectively perfect. I calculated the risks of every proposal scenario I could think of, deliberated over which combination would be worthy of becoming the moment we’d talk about for the rest of our lives. Then I just froze. Every time. I froze, Hotch.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. Rossi said Y/N wouldn’t care how I did it because she’d just want to marry me, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to make her cry, you know?” His eyes went wide as he realised how that sounded, “Not like that, just…”
“I know why you freeze. Because you’ve let everyone else get into your head. You’ve tried out everyone else’s ideas before your own, right?”
“...right.”
“So ignore everyone. Except Dave, maybe, since that’s the only solid advice this team has given you. Ignore everyone else and just think about Y/N. You know her better than anyone. If you think about it, about her, then you’ll know what to do.”
“But how do I-“
“Back to work, Reid, I’ve got paperwork to be getting on with.”
“But-“
“Goodbye, Reid.”
There was no room for argument, since Hotch’s eyes were already on the paper on his desk, hauling a large document in front of him and letting out a small huff as he picked up his pen. Spencer sat there immobile for a few more seconds. Waiting. Hotch did nothing to acknowledge him again.
There was nothing to do but leave.
Hotch looked up as he heard his door softly click shut. He smiled, if only a little. If bringing Spencer into the office occasionally to threaten to split the two of you up in the field gave him the push he needed to propose, he might make it a regular arrangement.
---
“What was that about?”
Spencer had made a beeline for the coffee machine as soon as he left Hotch’s office, if only to give him some time to get a story together as to why he’d been called in there. But as soon as he returned with a coffee in each hand, one of which metaphorically had your name on it, you asked him outright.
“He just wanted to check that my shoulder wasn’t still painful.”
“And it isn’t, right?”
You looked almost scary when you were being protective (though it wasn’t like he didn’t love it).
“As I’ve told you 34 times, no it isn’t,” he smiled, handing you your coffee with a small peck to the top of your head. You grimaced at the coffee, unexpectedly, but as you pulled out the two coffees from behind your own back, he grinned.
“Wanted you to have caffeine in case Hotch had been harsh,” you said, grinning yourself. Spencer chuckled a little, taking the coffee you’d made him with a hum of gratitude and walking to his desk with his two coffees. He knew that maybe he should give one of them away, but somehow he didn’t have the heart. That ring was feeling heavier again on his shoulder, and he was grateful for the relief when he shrugged off his satchel and placed it far too tenderly on the floor beside him.
With that the two of you got to work, spending most of the next half hour greeting the rest of the team as, one by one, they trudged into the office with caffeine of their own. With Hotch firmly buried in his paperwork and Rossi such a terrible influence on you all, by the time everyone was into work you had dissolved into friendly chatter rather than work.
“I swear, it’s going to happen this time. Nothing’s going to get in my way.”
“You told her that last time, Derek, and then you were away for two weeks on a serial case. You gotta stop making such big plans!” Penelope argued but Derek shook his head.
“You’ll see babygirl, this one will pan out.”
“You know, from everything I’ve heard about Savannah, I think she might prefer a quiet night in rather than some grand gesture you can’t follow through on. It’s those little moments where you make time for her that she’ll remember,” you tried, because Penelope was right and everyone in the room knew that except the one person that needed to.
“You really think so?”
“I know so, Morgan. You know, once, Spencer prepared a fort for the two of us? A whole ass fort, with the sofa cushions and sheets and every blanket he could find. It’s one of my favourite memories.”
“It is?” Spencer asked, his mind only reeling a little bit. He’d done that on impulse, thinking it might be the perfect combination of comfort and nostalgia that you needed to take your mind off a particularly bad case involving children you’d been on the week before. He’d never known you’d remembered it so much.
“Definitely. Even if it was so small we both got sore necks sitting inside for too long. It was amazing,” you were looking at him, stars in your eyes, but you quickly shook your attention back to Derek, “I’m not saying build Savannah a fort, that might be a me and Spencer thing, but you get my point.”
“I guess I do,” Derek scratched the back of his neck, at least beginning to rethink his elaborate ways of letting his girlfriend down, “Thanks, Y/L/N.”
You nodded a ‘no problem’ just as Rossi remembered where you all were and suggested everyone get back to work. Spencer sat back down, but his mind was all over the place. Hotch said if he thought about it, thought about you, then he’d just know.
Maybe the trick wasn’t just thinking about you, but actually listening to you.
---
“Stopping to get takeout on the way home was the best decision ever,” you said, halfway through a mouthful, “It’s times like these I’m glad to have such a genius boyfriend.”
“You know not every decision I make based on my status as a genius, right?”
“Yeah, whatever, eat your food, babe,” you insisted, leaning your head on his shoulder as the two of you sat on the sofa side by side. Your legs were curled up against his side, Spencer resting his other hand on your leg as he ate. There were moments of idle chatter between the two of you, but since there hadn’t been time to eat earlier in the day, you mostly concentrated on getting the food in you as quickly as humanly possible.
That was, until you decided to break the silence.
“Hm,” you began, then a good few seconds of thinking later, “Never mind.”
“You know you have to tell me what you were thinking now.”
“No, really, doesn’t matter.”
“Y/N…”
“Seriously Spence, forget it.”
“I’m physically incapable of forgetting it Y/N,” he said bluntly, “Just tell me. It won’t be as weird as you think.”
You paused.
“Okay. Just hear me out then,” you said seriously, turning in your seat so that you were facing him properly, leaning an elbow on his knee and your chin on your fist, “What if we got married?”
Ah.
Now that, that had not been what he had expected. He hardly managed to respond through the lump that had formed instantaneously in his throat, his airways closing in.
“What?”
“I’m just asking, what if we got married? I mean, I love you and I’m pretty sure you love me. There’s no one else I want to be with, ever. So...why not?” When he didn’t say anything, you continued on, though far less sure of yourself, “I know we’re not exactly traditional but it would make sense, financially, right? And maybe...it might be a little romantic?”
“A little r-romantic?” He stuttered out, face drained of all its colour. This wasn’t in the plan. This was not in the plan. He may not have had a plan, but whatever this was, it wasn’t the plan.
Your face fell.
“Sorry, this isn’t the way to propose is it? And talking about the financial benefits of marriage definitely isn’t romantic,” you frowned to yourself, no longer looking him in the eye, “And honestly, maybe marriage isn’t something you see as romantic anyway, seeing as you probably know all the history that included the woman belonging to the man and everything, so maybe you don’t even want marriage?”
The infliction in your voice on the last question, the way your pitch changed, he could tell you beginning to get really nervous. Like what you’d just said might ruin your relationship that could never be ruined. But he wasn’t even thinking straight, because you had just asked him to marry you and he didn’t even get a chance to do it first. To do it right. He blinked rapidly as he looked at his lap.
“I don’t think-“ he began, but stopped himself, “I’m not sure-“
“You know what? Please forget I said anything, I told you I didn’t want to talk about it. Pretend it never happened, please Spence,” you said, already getting up from the sofa, distancing yourself from him, picking up your plate with a half-eaten dinner and making towards the kitchen, “I think I’ll turn in for the night, I’m beat. Night Spence.”
You hardly looked at him as you passed him to go to the bedroom, but he saw the flash of unshed tears in your eyes as you scurried by. He opened his mouth to speak, but for once his ability to process the situation that had just taken place was at an all time low. Instead, he scrambled to fetch the ring from his satchel near the door, wanting nothing more than to ask you right there and then—
“Y/N, wait-“
He held up the ring box as he turned around, but the bedroom door had shut with a click.
You’d just asked him to marry you and he hadn’t said yes.
Well, fuck.
---
A/N: i’m aware this is six months late! all the apologies and i hope you enjoy this next chapter, i’ve nearly finished our beautiful fluffy finale to the story that should have finished long ago. lots of love to anyone who managed to make it this far! i wish you all a wonderful week <3
taglist if you’re still interested! (ily all regardless)
@mrs-dr-reid @soda610 @alexxcorona113 @thupidalethea @may-beforejune-afterapril @ilovesupersoldiers @hurricanejjareau @mortallythoughtfulgurl @aperrywilliams @saranyx@anotherspencerreidblog @thegayestdestielshipper @burkgolden @zozolee @sargent-barnes​ @halseysunset​
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toothpastecanyon · 3 years ago
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We Creatures, Chapter 3
When Alcor felt Mizar calling to him, he came to help. Perhaps, this one time, he should have stayed asleep.
See most updated version on Archive of Our Own.
______________________________________________________________
“I spy with my little eye… something beginning with e.”
“Is it elves?”
“What? No!”
“Just checking,” Mizar sat back in her seat. “Just checking, uh… electricity! From the lights?”
“No.”
“Elm tree! I see some elms over there.”
Alcor grinned. “Nope.”
“Okay… fuck, I give up. What is it?”
“Okay, are you ready? You’re gonna kick yourself: Everest.”
“Ev… Everest?” She raised an eyebrow. “Like the mountain in the Himalayas?”
“Yeah!” He chuckled to himself. “You know, I’ve gotten a not-insignificant number of summoners over the years who wanted me to teleport them to the top of Everest and back. Some of them worded it better than others, but you humans are just obsessed with that place - it’s so funny to me!”
“That’s great, but this is the third time you’ve named something only you can see.” She crossed her arms. “I don’t think this Eye Spy game is working.”
“Oh… that’s okay! I have other road trip games! How about twenty questions - we pick something in the environment and, uh, the other person asks you twenty questions about what it could be…”
He launched into an explanation. In the back, Mizar rolled her eyes. She was grinning, though.
______________________________________________________________
They rounded a curve on the interstate, radio blasting.
“We gotta hooooold on to what we got!”
“It doesn’t make a difference if we make it or not!”
Mizar was using a soda can as a microphone. “We got each other, and that’s enough for noooow, we’ll give it a shot!”
“OHHHHH, we’re halfway there!” Alcor swerved in time to the music. “OOOH-OHHH, livin’ on a prayer! Liiivin’ onnn a prayyyy-aaa-err!”
______________________________________________________________
“And so I told her, you can’t ride a pig into battle, Mabel. Waddles - his name was Waddles - is too small, and let’s face it, he’s not really a fighter. He rolls - rolled - in the mud all day, he ate carrots, he’s not really down to charge through a cultist’s basement and strike fear in their hearts”
Mizar was slumped in the back, methodically ripping up gummy worms. “Mmmhm.”
“But, uh, a bit of a size change, and boy was I wrong.” Alcor chuckled, one hand on the steering wheel as they cut through a forest. The sun was still up, but it was blocked by the trees; every so often he’d squint as a ray peeked through. “Kind of glad that didn’t become a regular thing. A horse-sized pig is, uh, more intimidating than you’d think.”
“Mmmhm.”
“But yeah, she did funny things like that… all Mizars tend to do stuff like that… but always a different thing, you know?”
“Yeah…”
“I dunno, maybe I’m explaining it weirdly.” His smile faded a bit. “It’s been a long time since I thought about her… too long. I just… I sort of forgot, I guess? It feels like I can’t’ve - she was my sister, but… I guess time does that to you.” Alcor stared forwards. “Everything fades. In time.”
The silence stretched, and Mizar frowned a bit. She glanced over at him.
“Dude?”
“Huh?” He blinked. “Oh, sorry! Think I blanked on you for a second there.”
“Always encouraging to hear that from your driver.”
“Heh, yeah…” Alcor nodded, and then looked back at her. “So what about you?”
No reply. He looked back, and saw she’d gone still.
“Mizar?”
“What do you mean, what about me?” Ostensibly nothing had changed about her, but Alcor could feel a sort of carefulness in her choice of words now. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, and Alcor made a face.
“I didn’t mean anything serious by it. I just thought I’d get to know you a little bit more!” He shrugged. “You know, uh… oh, what’s your name? I never asked you that.”
“You’ve been calling me Mizar, right? That works.”
“Well, Mizar’s your soul’s name. You have a name apart from that, right?”
“Sure I do.”
“Yeah?” There was a pause. “Uh, what is it?”
“…Smith.” Mizar ripped a gummy worm in half. “John Smith, there you go.”
Alcor struggled to keep a smile. “Okay, Mizar, uh… so you lived in New York, huh?”
“Yeah. You gonna make me give you an address now?”
“No, I- ugh. Forget it.” Alcor rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t trying to pry, I was just trying to get to know you. Why are you so against that?”
“Why do you want to know so bad?” Mizar sat up a bit. “Look, genuinely? I’m sorry that’s frustrating for you. When I summoned a demon, I wasn’t exactly thinking I’d have to make small talk with them.”
“What does that mean?”
“Means I actually kind of like you, dude! And I feel bad, but I can’t risk…” she trailed off, then cleared her throat. “How about this. Once we get to the desert, you can ask me anything you want, okay?”
Alcor frowned. “Okay… I’ll wait for the desert, then.”
“Thank you.” She sat back a little. “Thank you, Alcor.”
He didn’t quite know what to say to that. The conversation seemed like it had reached its end, and he started fiddling with the radio again. Most of it was adverts, though; it felt like sometimes the stations were coordinating to all go on break at the same-
“Look out!”
Mizar’s voice shot through him like a knife. He looked up and noticed there was something in the road - a deer! He swerved hard, and then he tried to swerve away from a tree right at the bend in the road but it was coming up too fast and-
The impact broke on him like a wave slamming against a hard cliff, and the sound of glass and metal shattering split his body’s eardrums. He felt his head crack against the steering wheel, and when he looked up he had to blink through the blood.
There were… legs? Legs through the windshield, and a sweatered body wrapped around the tree, and Alcor felt a raw fear flood through his being.
“Mizar?” He tried to get up, get out of his body, but something held him in place. “Mizar!”
And then she moved. He froze.
“Ugh…” Mizar shifted, and moved her neck off the right-angle it was making with the tree’s trunk. She rubbed her head. “Ow.”
Alcor watched with wide eyes as she shook herself off, and started extracting her legs through the opening. All the broken glass on the hood hadn’t left a scratch on her, it was…
“Impossible,” Alcor breathed. He saw her eye settle on him, her face flash through a million expressions before turning carefully blank. “You’re not human.”
“It…” She hesitated. “It doesn’t matter right now. We need to go.”
He tried to sit up, but something was keeping him rooted in place. It was more than being trapped; he tried to step into the Mindscape, but something had tethered itself to his very soul and bound him to the Earth.
“I can’t.” He frowned. “I’m… trapped?”
“You’re trapped?”
Bound to the Earth… Alcor lifted up his shirt, and found a branch impaled through his abdomen, skewering him to the seat. It was young, thin, but before his eyes, he watched it grow thicker, watched bark form on its trunk, and creep up his skin.
Mizar saw it too. “Shit,” she said, and backed up. “They’re here. They want you.”
“The elves?”
“Yeah… I have to go now.” She jumped off the car’s hood. “Sorry, dude.”
“Mizar? They want me? Wh-what does that mean? Mizar!”
But she was gone - vanished into the darkness. Alcor gritted his teeth, then he summoned a flame and tried to burn the branch. Nothing happened; if anything, a couple leaves sprouted where it should have turned to ash. The bark kept climbing up his chest, and he felt… strange. A little drowsy. It was easy to resist - for now.
But there were voices, and he pushed all that to the side.
“...No, child.” Elvish - spoken softly, like a song. “Do not chase the startled bear into its cave. Have patience, patience…”
He could see three pairs of feet, approaching. Two of them were clad in bark armour - the middle wore a long, flowing robe, and continued forwards where the other two stopped. It walked right up to Alcor, and for the first time in a very long while, he could feel a little bit of apprehension.
It was just an elf, he told himself. Just a mortal. Whatever it was, he’s a demon, he could take it…
The feet stopped in front of a mangled car door. Then they leaned down a little, and a face appeared through the broken glass. By the ears, they were elven, and by the locks of brilliant white hair framing their face, they were ancient indeed.
“Greetings, demon.” said the elf in a quiet tone. “You’ve made a mistake.”
Then they smiled. Alcor did not like the way they smiled.
“You’ve made a mistake,” He growled. “I don’t know how you’ve got me bound, but you can’t keep it up forever. If I get out and you’ve hurt one hair on Mizar’s head… what are you doing?”
The elder was waving at the other two. In unison, they kneeled on the ground, and started whispering to it. The bark creeping up Alcor’s chest started accelerating.
“Alcor the Dreambender,” the elder turned back to him. “You don’t know what a Sanctuary is, do you?”
“Wh-”
“No, you wouldn’t. Thus far, you’ve been a wise demon; you’ve stayed out of our affairs, and we’ve stayed out of yours.” They smiled. “Or perhaps, you’ve just been a lucky one. If you were wise, you wouldn’t have meddled last night, would you?”
“Meddled?” They leaned back as the elder leaned in close. “You were trying to kill Mizar, you- get back!”
“Let me educate you, child.” They whispered in his ear. “We will grow a great forest over your body. We will live in this Sanctuary, we will walk these woods, and our every thought will keep you bound, will keep you aslumber. And your wistful dreams will cause flowers to bloom in the springtime.”
With a smile, they stepped away, and spoke again.
“Now, do you see? Do you see why you should have been wise, demon?”
Alcor growled. After a moment, he got his claws under the bark encircling his neck. With a little effort, he ripped it away, and glared up at the elder.
“You can’t bind me forever. I’ll get out - you’ll regret this!”
“Hmm… perhaps. But not in time to protect that which you travel with. This… Mizar, you say?”
“Don’t you dare.” Alcor lunged at him. “Don’t you dare! D̞̖̟̱͉O̡͖͇̫N̳̦̳̫̮͎̯'T̹̼̮̤̠͢ͅ ̻̼Y��͖̜OU҉͙̠̪̭̞̭ ͙̥͍̙͚̹̻D͈A̵̞̠̫̙̲̝R̠E͚̜̺̫̬!̦̤̬͉̪”
“A Mizar…” They stroked their beard. “So that is how it enlisted your help.”
“She҉ is̡ ̵mi͠ne͘!͜ S̸h̸e ìs mine̢!̕ ̷You̧ ̷hu̴rt̢ my̕ Mi͘zar,̴ ̸I ̢W̨ILĻ ͢ḰĮLL͢ ̨Y̵OU̧!”
“But she is not your Mizar.”
Alcor frowned. “Don’t you tell me who my Mizar is - I can feel it. I know!”
At that, the elf… laughed. He growled.
“What? What’s so funny?”
“Oh… it’s not funny.” They sighed; for once, the smile seemed to dip. “It’s not funny. I suppose it just… to see it happen again, it’s strange, is it not?”
Alcor watched the elf look into the distance. In their eyes were a thousand memories, and in their furrowing brow, a thousand pains. It seemed like an eternity before they spoke again.
“I had a daughter, once,” they started. “Long ago. Before I was one of the elders. Before the Transcendence. Shalana, her name was.”
Alcor watched the elf smile.
“And she was so full of life. She loved to dance with the wind and the leaves. And she loved everyone around her.” They shook their head. “She trusted everyone around her, and… she was mistaken.”
Alcor frowned. “What happened?”
“This is why you outsiders shouldn’t meddle.” They glanced up at him. “You ask me what happened - any elf would know what happened, but you are…” they sighed. “You don’t know of the Blighted Ones - they are hunters of us. Very specialized hunters; humans would see through their tricks, but we-“ they gestured at their visor. “We cannot. And you cannot, either.”
“What do you mean?” Alcor raised an eyebrow. “I have enough magic to see through any illusion-“
“And it is your magic that prevents you from seeing the truth! These creatures feed on magic - they twist your Sight, you cannot trust what you see!” The elf clenched their fists. “Just like Shalana could not See. She thought it was a friend who wanted to walk the forest with her; instead it was her doom.”
Alcor made a face. “I’m… so sorry to hear that.”
They looked at him, and did not smile. “You dare apologise to me?” They hissed, and leaned in closer. “You dare apologise to me when you saved her murderer last night!”
Alcor felt the elder grab his suit and wrench him in close. He was too stunned to resist.
“I spent millennia pleading with the Elders to hunt this creature down! Now I am one, and you dare interfere? You dare deny her justice? And for what?” They dug angrily in his suit pocket, and drew out the dewdrop. “For this?! This is what I’ll lose my retribution over?!”
Alcor couldn’t respond. The bark creeped up his neck, and he was fighting to keep his eyes open. The elder was only a blur as they pushed themself off of him.
“No…” they said. “Calm. Be calm. The mountain does not sway like the wind around it.”
He tried to sit up, but he was rooted to the seat. Nothing budged.
“I should not be surprised by this,” said the elf. “I should not. After all, what does a demon know of love?”
The bark was stretching over his jawline. Alcor could hardly summon the strength to panic anymore.
“Sleep well, Dreambender. You will wake to a better world- what is that?”
His closing eyes rolled over to look, and he saw something drop from the trees. There was a snarl, a cry, and the two elves stood up; suddenly the sleepiness fell away from him, and he jolted awake.
Mizar - or whatever she was - was the first thing he saw. She had the elder pinned, and with the back of her hand she slapped the visor off his face. They pushed her off and jumped away, covering their face.
“No! No! My eyes deceive! You’re not her!”
The two elves drew their swords and closed in. Mizar danced back as they slashed, glanced to the car, and then ripped off the side door and used it like a shield. One elf stabbed and stuck their sword in; she twisted it out of their hand, bashed them to the floor, then pounced on top and ripped out their throat.
The other elf raised their sword and drove it down through her back. She let out a cry, but in a flash she was on her feet again, eyes on the blade. They tried to slash at her; she caught their arm, twisted it back, and slammed them into the dirt.
Then it was silent, but for the quiet whimpering of the downed elf. Alcor watched her slowly, slowly kneel down to their level. She gripped their shoulders, and turned them over to face her.
He couldn’t see their face - only a sweater, and jangling bracelets on her arms. But the elf saw something else; he saw them go rigid, saw their feet kick up leaves as they struggled to get away, heard their groans turn to a desperate cry -
“No, no! No! Help! Tarathiel, aid me! I-”
Then Mizar struck. Alcor flinched at the scream, at the crack of bone and gristle; a deep pit formed in her stomach as he heard her begin to eat. Yet the more he watched, strangely, the fuzzier she seemed. Whatever she was doing, it was like the world around him had formed a kind of censor, and even the sounds of it faded sharply.
Like something was twisting his Sight… Alcor looked down at the visor that had landed on the front seat. He took a deep breath, and then ripped his hand out of the bark that had encased it, grabbed the visor, and put it over his eyes.
Now he saw without Sight. Now he saw the Creature that he had called Mizar.
It wasn’t human, no. It was much taller, and so, so thin. It was covered in a layer of fine yet shaggy hair, lending a greyish tint to the pale skin beneath; around its legs it was matted and grimy with dried sewage. Its hands were curled, clawed things at the end of its sticklike arms, and it was digging them into the elf to scoop out meat and dripping organs.
It was… oh, stars. Alcor felt a rush of primal fear at the sight of it, and he couldn’t help but gasp.
The Creature heard that; it froze, and then its head snapped around. Its face: its eyes were up where its forehead should’ve been, and the rest was all mouth, dripping with blood. Its jagged teeth glinted like broken glass as it turned and knuckle-walked towards him.
Alcor couldn’t help it; he growled, he leaned away as far as he could. “No… stay, stay back!”
He threw a blast of fire its way. It melted the side of the car, but nothing happened to the Creature - no, worse than nothing. His fire swirled around the narrow, bloodless hole in its chest, and sealed it.
“I’m warning you!” Alcor watched it squeeze itself through the opening in the car; it was so much larger than it looked. “Don’t come any closer, don’t - d-don’t touch me! What are you...”
It was reaching its filthy claws towards his face. He stiffened as they scraped against his forehead… then carefully closed around the visor, and took it off. The glow-eyed, primally terrifying being that hunched before him suddenly-
-just looked like a Mizar again. Felt like a Mizar again. If he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, there wouldn’t have been a doubt in his mind that this was his sister smiling sadly at him.
“I’m sorry,” said the Creature, with her voice. “I did lie to you. But… look, if I’ve built up any goodwill with you since we met… can you just hear me out? Please?”
Alcor didn’t move, didn’t speak. He didn’t know what to say. He watched the Creature’s eyes flit down, and fix on the branch that was keeping him in place. It reached out a lie of a hand.
“Here, let me get you out of that.”
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everybodyscupoftea · 4 years ago
Text
fbgm (fuck bitches get money)
pike jj x reader (plus: cody and tyler)
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five times you text cody and tyler plus one time they text you
this is the origin story of you meeting cody and tyler + getting to know them, all taking place over the span of freshman year
(warnings: cursing)
One
You and JJ had been in the library for over 12 hours and were running on coffee and protein bars. He was laying on his back, laptop on his chest, asleep, and you were on your stomach, flipping through your highlighted notes to find the exact quote you wanted to use in your paper.
His stomach growled loudly and jolted him awake with a groan. Shoving his laptop to the side, JJ stretched before saying, “We need actual food. I can call some friends to bring us some Jimmy John’s if you’re down.”
“Fuck, that sounds fantastic right now.”
“Sweet. I’ll add you to our group message and you can send your order.”
Your body went cold for a second, “Wait, what? Why can’t I just type in your phone.”
“I need to look at the menu, just send them yourself.”
Mouth gaping for a few seconds, you protested, “I don’t know your friends. Isn’t that weird?”
“Nah, they’re cool dudes,” he reassured just as texts starting pouring onto your screen.
Maybank who the fuck is this number
Oh is it the hot girl from your English class. Right on dude
Dumbass she can fucking see this.
JJ we can just add whoever we want whenever now
Shut the fuck up and be nice, you’re the reason we don’t have any girl friends
Speak for yourself dickhead
JJ gave you an apologetic smile and said, “Well, at least you can order your food now.”
You sighed and typed your order out, thumb hesitating over the send button. Looking over at him, you asked, “Can you send something first, I feel weird.”
He gave you a look, “Dude, just send it.” So you did.
When the boys showed up thirty minutes later with the food, you could’ve kissed one of them from how hungry you were. The taller one dropped down next to you and held his fist up, “Nice to meet you officially, I’m Cody.”
You bumped it and the other guy handed you the food, “I’m Tyler, your savior, because Cody managed to misread your order, but I made sure they got it right.”
“Nice to meet you guys, thanks for the food.”
You thought they’d leave, but they stayed, fucking around on their phones for a while until JJ got up to leave. They all bid you goodbye and Cody winked, “Text me anytime.”
Two
JJ was driving the two of you to a basketball game and he swore under his breath. You looked up from your phone as he dug through his wallet. After a few seconds, the light turned green, and he told you, “Hey, text Cody and Tyler and tell them to bring me my Student ID please.”
“You text them,” you said, not really wanting to. You’d had the message on mute because they sent a lot, and you never had anything to add, so you left it alone. You didn’t really want to open it and see what they’d been talking about.
He gave you an exasperated look at the next red light, “I’m driving, plus you have their numbers.”
“Yeah, but I don’t know them.”
“And whose fault is that? That’s why were all going to hang out at the game.”
You sighed and sent it, not happily by any means.
Can someone grab JJ’s ID out of his booksack
Sure thing, tell him he owes me a milkshake for having to climb the fucking stairs
His phone lit up and he nodded, “See, not so bad was it?”
JJ told you Tyler was a huge basketball fan (specifically the Sixers), and he had Opinions on your school’s team. He bounced over to you when they parked next to JJ, “I hear you’re a basketball girl.”
“Something like that,” you huffed out a laugh.
“Look, neither of those chumps respect it, and I need you to know that we will be doing March Madness brackets this year.”
“Brackets are fun,” you agreed, “can’t wait to wipe the floor with you.”
“Oh, you’re looking to get beat, huh?”
“I never lose,” you told him confidently.
He smirked, “We’ll see about that one. I don’t know who you’ve been playing, but you’ve got competition this year.”
The game was fun. Normally you’d have sat next to JJ, but Tyler let you sit on the end and sat on the other side. He talked your ear off about player stats and made jokes about the other players which had you laughing hard enough to get JJ’s attention. JJ leaned around Tyler to ask, “You good over there?”
“Better than Notre Dame, that’s for damn sure.”
“Oh shit!” Tyler said, giving you a fist bump. JJ winked at you and you felt a lot better after the game, finally feeling like you could get to know at least one of those guys.
The next basketball game you went to was with Tyler. He wanted to go see the Duke versus UNC game, and the two of you got there early waiting in line with your student ID’s to get a bracelet and get in. Tyler was wearing a t-shirt with “In Zion We Trust” written across the chest, and he was Hyped.
“Take a picture with me so I can put it on twitter. I need Zion to follow me before he gets drafted.”
You agreed with a laugh and he handed his phone to the person standing behind y’all to take the picture. It came out nice. He smiled at it, “Sweet. Now I’ve got the pretty girl trap to get that athlete follow. You’re a great wingman.”
“Thanks,” you deadpanned.
He smiled, “Feels good to have a basketball friend. We’re going to have to drive to Charlotte when the Sixers come to town.”
Three
You slumped over on your bed and JJ looked over at you, “What’s wrong now?”
“I’m fucked. This stupid fucking theatre class. I didn’t buy the book and now I need it and I don’t know anyone in that class and I can’t afford it all in one sitting.”
JJ furrowed his eyebrows, “Wait, Intro to Theatre?”
“Yeah, do you have the book?” you asked hopefully.
He shook his head, “No, sorry, but isn’t Cody in your class?”
“What?”
“Yeah, if it’s Tuesday and Thursday at 9:30 Cody is in that class.”
You searched your memory, trying to remember seeing him at any point in the semester. He could’ve definitely set at the top and you wouldn’t know because you always sat about halfway up, not wanting to climb all those stairs to the top of the auditorium.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him there.”
JJ snorted, “Okay well I never said he actually went to class. Text him though, because I’m sure he’d be down split textbook costs and just share the e-book.”
“Can you do it?”
“You’re an adult. Plus, you’ve sent stuff in the group, I thought you were okay now?”
“I was drunk!”
“Text the group if you aren’t comfortable enough to text Cody separately. Your grade is more important than your strange aversion to texting my friends.”
You rolled your eyes, but he was right.
Cody are you in theatre 161 on Tuesday and Thursday morning?
Yeah ugh pls don’t bring it up
Did you get the textbook?
Okay I guess we’re bringing it up…no I did not
We have questions from the end of chapter 5 due online, do you wanna just split the book for the rest of the semester? Rent it online or something?
Wait we have homework in that class
JJ laughed loudly where he was reading the conversation next to you and you sighed, trying to not throw your phone across the room. You looked at JJ, “Your friends are idiots.”
“Careful, bud, you sound a little fond.”
We have homework every week and a quiz every other week…
Oh fuck, you think it’s too late for me to come back from this?
I think there’s a bonus essay for 30 points which might help some?
Let’s split the book.
Venmo me.
You rented the book and sent him a link before settling down to do your own homework, and you felt better about reaching out if you needed homework help again.
It didn’t really come up between the two of you again until he texted you one Wednesday afternoon out of the blue asking what night you were going to see Arcadia for class. You had a ticket for the Friday night showing, and after about 30 minutes, he texted you again that he’d cancelled his plans and gotten one too.
The two of you met for dinner and walked to the theater near the caf together. He was talkative, “I did some research on this play and I actually read the chapter on how to take notes on plays, so I have my tiny notebook and I’m ready.”
“I saw Arcadia with my sister a while back, so I kind of know what’s going on, and I can help if you need,” you said, holding your own tiny notebook.
“For sure. Might should get together to write our papers, that’s going to be what fucks me. If you don’t mind meeting tomorrow at 11, I’ll bring coffee and we’ll knock it out.”
“Sounds great.”
You weren’t sure how good of a theatre buddy Cody was going to be, but you clearly underestimated him. He laughed at the right time, turned his phone off and not just on silent, and didn’t even get up once besides during intermission.
Cody walked you back to your dorm at midnight, when it finally ended, and before you could get inside called out, “Text me your coffee order for tomorrow, I’ll run by Dunkin.”
Four
JJ said he might be at his dorm when you got there, but when you texted him to come let you up, you got no answer. After pacing a few minutes outside, you decided it was too cold for that shit, so you bit the bullet and texted in the group.
I’m supposed to meet JJ, can anyone let me in the dorm?
It didn’t take long for someone to get back to you. Tyler responded after a few seconds.
Fuck dude, are you outside? I’m coming down.
You were practically shivering when he shoved the door open, and he pulled you inside. The RA sitting at the desk didn’t even look up when the two of you passed and he shook his head, “Man, where the fuck is Maybank?”
“Not sure, was going to ask you the same question.”
Tyler swiped to unlock the door and you saw Cody coming out of the toilet area. He brightened, “Yo, long time no see. What are you doing here?”
“Supposed to be hanging out with JJ tonight,” you muttered, checking your phone again.
Cody shrugged, “Come watch Great British Baking Show with me and Tyler. We have popcorn.”
It was warm and you liked GBBS, so you nodded and kicked your shoes off to follow them into their room. JJ didn’t get back for another hour, and by the time he got there, the three of you had ordered pizzas, started another episode, and were laying on Cody’s bed which was closest to the TV.
JJ stood in the doorway, “What’s going on guys?”
“Where have you been?” Tyler asked, tone accusatory.
“I-“ JJ was caught off guard, “got some dinner with friends.”
“Good thing we ordered pizza then,” you laughed, not too upset that he’d forgotten. JJ had the tendency to do shit like that.
“Fuck,” JJ sighed, “I’m so sorry.”
“All good. Glad your roommates are ten times more clutch than you.”
JJ rolled his eyes as the other boys preened and held their fists out for you to bump.
Five
Changing a flat tire isn’t that hard. Changing a flat tire and realizing halfway through that you don’t have a spare is hard. You could’ve fucking cried looking at the empty compartment that the spare usually sat, and you almost did, but last minute pulled your phone out to text the boys.
Anyone free for the next like 45 minutes to an hour to take me to get a spare tire
No
Before you could send anything else.
Jk we’ll come get you
So, you decided to sit on the curb and wait. Tyler’s truck pulled up and you hopped up, grabbing your wallet and keys. Cody hopped out the other side, put the tire in the tailgate, and climbed in the back, leaving the front open for you.
Tyler cranked up the music as soon as you shut the door and tore out of the parking lot before you could even buckle up. You thought Cody was being nice letting you get the passenger seat, but you later found out he just wanted to sit behind Tyler because, “The driver always protects his side first.”
You held on to the door as he whipped into the AutoZone parking lot and got out of the car as fast as possible as soon as he parked. Cody was laughing as you sagged against the car, head spinning, and he clapped a hand down on your shoulder, “Bet you wish you’d have just taken an uber.”
“I wish JJ had answered my text.”
Cody and Tyler followed you into the store to ask someone to repair your tire. Tyler leaned against the counter next to you and Cody scrolled through something on his phone while you talked to the guy who clearly wasn’t taking you very seriously.
You huffed, getting Tyler’s attention, and he looked up from his hands, “What’s up?”
Before you could say anything, the man cut in, “I don’t think she knows what she wants.”
Tyler furrowed his eyebrows and nudged Cody before responding, “What do you mean?”
“She just needs to get a new tire.”
“We brought the tire, just look at it because she thinks it can be repaired,” Tyler defended, crossing his arms.
Cody moved to stand on the other side of you, “Why can’t you just look at it?”
“If you buy a new tire, we’ll send someone back to your car with you to put it on.”
“I can put it on myself,” you responded indignantly.
Tyler squeezed your shoulder, “I can’t change a tire, but she can. Show some respect and just give her what she’s asking for, man.”
The worker rolled his eyes but did as Tyler said, and your heart swelled a little bit with fondness at these two guys who you didn’t know all that well standing up for you. Throwing your arms over their shoulders, you squeezed them closer, “My heroes.”
Cody shrugged, “Now we know who to call if we need a tire changed.”
Plus One
You slept in one Saturday, finally happy to be through with a busy week, and when you woke up had over 50 texts from Cody and Tyler asking to come to their dorm to help them make a cake for JJ’s birthday. Cody was the last to text, so you responded to him.
Give me like ten mins to get dressed and I’ll come to your dorm.
Oh thank fuck you’re alive!
I wasn’t dead, I’m just tired.
Wake up sweetheart, busy day today
The boys had a recipe and the ingredients all spread out when you got there and the three of you took control of the dorm building’s kitchen on the first floor. Tyler pulled up some music and sat on the counter, content to watch you and Cody do the work.
It went relatively smoothly. Cody almost fucked it up by grabbing the salt instead of the sugar, and the tablespoon instead of the teaspoon, but you got it in the oven without too much extra struggle. Tyler made grabby hands at one of the spoons and you rolled your eyes but handed it to him anyway.
“Thanks, you’re the best. Better than Maybank,” Tyler told you before licking the spoon.
“I know I’m the best, but thanks for reminding me.”
Cody made a noise, “Oh, we’ve been discussing group chat names and we’ve narrowed it down to a few. It’s your pick.”
“Lay ‘em on me,” you told them, moving to sit on the cabinet next to Tyler.
“Fuck bitches get money, AutoZone annihilators, and Greek gods.”
“Oh my god, Greek gods? Think much of yourself, do you?” you asked between laughs.
Tyler rolled his eyes, “You know we mean because Greek life.”
“I know, but still. I like fuck bitches get money.”
Cody cheered, “Fuck yeah, my choice!” and changed the name immediately.
The timer went off and Cody reached down to pull the cake out. Tyler gathered up all the utensils and ingredients and followed Cody out of the kitchen. He cheered, “Come on bitches, let’s go wake up the princess!”
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swan--writes · 4 years ago
Note
Can you please write human by Christina Perry for Dewey please x
Look, I might as well tell you now that all of my remaining songfic requests are pretty angsty. Imma round it out with a fluffy non-request, just be aware: we have returned, my friends, to the angst corner.
Warnings: sad Dewey
Words: 975
I can hold my breath.
Dewey could handle this.
I can bite my tongue
He could.
I can stay awake for days…
He promised.
If that’s what you want.
When he was with his students, his fellow instructors, you, he could hold it in. It was just when he was alone that he crumbled.
It wasn’t that he was unhappy – that couldn’t have been it. He had everything: a partner who loved him, a job he adored, a nice apartment, steady cash flow. But for some reason, the dry February air was sucking his spirit dry. He was terrified you would notice, yet at the same time, he was hoping you would.
Dewey hated the part of himself that wanted you to notice. What kind of partner was he, if he actually wanted you to witness his misery? His despondence? You had already been having a hard enough month, and he knew that he needed to take care of you. He was hiding it as best he could, but was it enough?
I can fake a smile.
No, he could do this. He could get out of bed.
I can force a laugh.
All he had to do was stand up. Just stand up.
I can dance and play the part…
Why couldn’t he get out of bed?
If that’s what you ask.
“Dewey?” he heard you call. You must have been in the living room. He had noticed you were gone when he first woke up, and you had closed the door behind you. There was cold sunlight shining in the crack underneath the bedroom door. He wanted to snuff it out. “Honey, are you awake?”
For a split second, Dewey considered letting you think he was asleep. But a quick glance at his alarm clock told him that would be even worse. It was already 1:00PM.
“Yeah, I…” Dewey sat up in bed. “I’ll be right out.”
His stomach dropped when, rather than waiting for him, you walked into the room. You were wearing your PJ shorts and one of his t shirts, and your steps fell quietly on the faux hardwood floor.
“Hey,” Dewey rasped, and cleared his throat. You sat beside him on the bed, trapping him between yourself and the wall. Dewey’s stomach, already low in his gut, twisted when he saw the concern on your face.
I can do it.
“What’s going on?” you asked softly.
I can do it.
“What do you mean?”
I can do it…
“You haven’t been drinking as much, you’re on a normal schedule now, and you’ve got shit to catch up on.” Despite your words, your voice was gentle. Why did you have to be so gentle? “How come you’ve been sleeping so much the last month?”
Oh. So you had noticed.
You poked his hand where it rested close to your thigh. “What’s going on?”
Dewey looked away from you then, turning his gaze down to focus on nothing in particular. “I don’t know.”
You said nothing, but waited. He knew he couldn’t outlast this silence – you had the patience of a St. Bernard with a chew toy, you would sit there as long as it took for him to crack. So, Dewey tried a different tack.
“How are you doing?” he asked. “I know you’ve been going through a lot.”
You tilted your head, still watching him. “I’m doing well, Dr. Finn.” You smiled softly. “And you’ve been amazing the last few weeks. Now let me worry about you.” Dewey watched as you tapped a short rhythm on the palm of his hand with two of your fingers. “What’s going on?”
Even hours later, Dewey wouldn’t know what it was about the question that got to him. It might have been the way you asked, with your absurdly gentle voice and your impossibly serene expression, as if at that moment, he was the only thing in the world you cared about.
But I’m only human.
He broke down.
Before he knew what was happening, you had moved closer and Dewey was cradled in your arms. He cried into your collarbone, harder than he had cried in years. Your hand was so warm and steady on his back, your arms so strong and so supportive, that he couldn’t force himself to stop. He was dimly aware that he was choking out apologies, and that you were shushing him in that infuriatingly patient way you had.
I can turn it on…
And then he was shaking his head and pulling away and wiping at his eyes with frustrated hands.
Be a good machine…
“No, I mean…” Dewey paused to breathe, and you waited.
I can hold the weight of worlds if that’s what you need.
“You don’t need this right now, you’re already dealing with a lot, and I shouldn’t be–”
“Stop.”
Abruptly, Dewey wasn’t crying anymore. He stared at your face – still serene but with something bright and fierce behind your eyes.
“You don’t apologize to me, not for this.”
Be your everything.
Dewey sniffled. “But–”
“No.” The tears returned, and you took his hands.
How could you be so understanding about this? It had to be so tiresome for you, to be dealing with all this bullshit from the one person in your life who was supposed to be stable.
“Listen to me.” You paused, and Dewey reluctantly looked up at you. “You’re allowed to have feelings. You’re a human person, and you’ve been under a lot of pressure lately. Okay? Between me and your students and living alone for the first time…ever.” You shook your head, and got that little crease between your eyes. The one you got when you were thinking about how amazing he was. Did you…?
I can take so much…
Dewey said your name and it came out as a whimper, but for once, that didn’t bother him much. You squeezed his hands.
‘Til I’ve had enough.
“I’m really proud of you, love, but I’m gonna need you to take care of yourself too.”
Dewey sniffled again and leaned forward. You met him halfway and leaned your forehead against his. You stayed that way for a few moments. When the tears became too much again, though, Dewey had to move to lean his head into the crook of your neck instead. You wrapped your arms around him again, and this time he found he didn’t mind.
‘Cause I’m only human.
.
.
please reblog if you are so moved, it really helps content creators
tags list: @skiddyyo @missihart23 @ballerinafairyprincess @thewolfisapartofmysoul
if you would like to get on the tags list, shoot me a message or an ask
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bellaroonie-writes · 4 years ago
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could i have some sweet and fluffy dratchet perhaps? 👉👈
I legitimately suck at writing them and my brain isn't processing shit rn so this turned into dratchet x reader💀
Also i've been meaning to write dratchet x reader bc holy fuck.
Maybe we need you.
Dratchet x Reader
I used female pronouns here but they are easy enough to change!
________________________________
You sat at the bar as people spoke and music played.
This was supposed to be a happy place but all you could think about was how lonely you were.
The need to be in a relationship was there but the fear of getting hurt was overbearing. You had been put through hell while with the DJD.
You and your siblings were like any group of average humans and you kind of wanted it to stay that way but no. Whatever controled fate had something else in mind. They fucked you all up and turned you into Cybertronians. They even went as far as to hurt your nephew as well.
You scanned the room and your eyes landed on your brother and his fiance, a beautiful, young couple, who had an incredibly smart and beautiful son and were expecting again. Next to them sat the eldest of you and your siblings, your sister. A beautiful young woman who seemed to have it all figured out sat next to her boyfriend. An incredibly smart couple who seemed to be a match made in heaven. All seemed to be normal for them even though they were nothing but normal.
You went back to scanning the room and your eyes landed on Drift and Ratchet, I relatively new relationship but they also seemed to be a match made in heaven.
You always had feelings for them, not that you'd say anything. They were already together, and happy at that. You smiled gently as Drift looked over you. He began to wave you over and you gently declinded.
When you turned back to look at Drift you were surprised as the red and white mech was already more than halfway across the room. You could've sworn you had only looked at Swerve for a split second.
"Goddamn he moves quick."
You shot up to your feet and began to move to the other side of the bar as Drift got closer. You knew he wasn't gonna drop the topic that easily. You paniced as you jumped from the bar to a table and then shot over to where your siblings were.
They smiled as you arrived but quickly gave you a questioning glance as you slid under the table.
Drift quickly approached and stopped at the table you were at.
"Did you see where that crazy thing slipped off to?"
You could hear your brother choking back a laugh as Drift asked him that question. You could hear Drift leaving after a few minutes and thats when you decided to book it out of the loud room.
Darting down the massive halls you had to weave in and out of mechs legs and you had to make sure you didn't get stepped on but soon enough you made it to your habsuite. Punching in the code you made it inside just before Whirl came sliding around the corner to bother you.
You smiled as you flopped into your bed. Roling onto your back you whipped out your phone to see a missed call from Ratchet, and then three from Drift.
You chuckled remembering what you had just done and plugged your phone in. You walked towards your dresser and began to rummage through the drawers with little regard for what fell out and hit the floor.
A ping from your phone caught your attention and as you moved closer you realized who it was. It was Drift, of course it was.
"We're coming."
You threw on a pair of pajamas and flopped into bed just in time as the door opened.
"See I told you, she's asleep. Now lets go."
"I highly doubt that she's actually asleep Ratch. Even if she is, i'm gonna wake her up."
You began to panic into your pillow as you heard Drift approach. Your heartrate shot through the roof as Drift poked your back and Ratchet began to reprimand him.
You rolled over eventually and groaned when Drift smiled like a child on Christmas.
"We wanna talk to you about something important."
You groaned again asking if it could wait till morning. When you were scooped up out of bed you took it as a no.
You sat up in Drifts palm trying to readjust your eyes to the bright lights of the ship.
When you finally arrived at the shared room you fell back on Drifts hands.
"What did you want to talk about? Make it quick bc i'm about to passout."
Drift smiled down at you and Ratchet say down on the berth next to you.
Smiling up at him you noticed how hard he seemed to be focusing on you.
"We wanted to talk about your feelings."
The sentence shot a wave of fear uo your spine. Had they found out somehow? Had you told them some drunken night you don't remember.
"As you know Ratchet and I are sparked but, we have been debating adding a third person into our relationship."
"That third person being you" Ratchet interrupted.
You looked between the two a few times, searching for some proof of a lie hidden in their eyes. When you didn't find anything you looked down at your hands which was playing with your shirt.
"If you're not comfortable with the idea we understand though! You've been through a lot and we understand if your not ready to love another person, or two."
You finally looked back up at both of them with a smile.
"I think I'm ready."
At that simple sentence Drift was beaming and Ratchet might as well have been to.
Drift grabbed you and gave you a light peck on your forehead before gently tucking you underneath his chin, Ratchet laying down next to the red and white mech and placing a hand over your torso and pressing a kiss to his lovers cheek plate.
________________________________
HOLY HELL THIS WAS LONG AND SO WEIRD.
I'm praying this made sense and honestly it was so much fun to write about thank you for this ask again.
I love you all lots and you're all incredibly smart and valid. Have a great day or night my dears!
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joheun-saram · 4 years ago
Text
To Make a Power Couple (knj) | 02
Chapter 2 - Pizza and Life Chats
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previous  | masterlist | next
Summary- Namjoon and Y/N go on their first date, and Namjoon is whipped.
word count- 5k
pairing- idol!namjoon x ceo!reader
rating- pg13 for now
genre- series, slow burn, fluff eventual smut, strangers2lovers
warnings- mentions of hangovers and panic attacks, tooth-rottingly fluffy
a.n- okay here’s the second part! I wrote this up fairly quickly (don’t expect this to be the norm!). This part I wanted to kind of address the stress of overworking as a young adult (GUILTY 🙋🏻‍♀️) so sorry if it gets a little serious at parts. I also wanted to switch it up so it’s from Namjoon’s perspective. I hope you enjoy it. SOFT JOON BEING A BIG OLD SOFTY.
Feedback much appreciated! 💕
taglist - @beach-bitch-bitch-beach​, @sassyuniversitytacopeanut 
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Namjoon woke up startled as his phone alarm rang. He was groggy and his splitting headache made him nauseous. “I’m never going to drink again”, he mumbled. He groaned as he got off the couch he had crashed on the night before, trying not to trip over Taehyung who seemed to be dozing happily on the floor as he made his way to his room. He hadn’t stayed at the dorms in a while, preferring the quiet solitary of his own apartment nowadays, and with his hangover in full swing he felt like he was walking through a stranger's house. 
Last month was hell. He had procrastinated on his songs and none of the vocal guides were even halfway done before the due date. Everytime he tried to finish a song a new one would pop up in his head and he would start on that, leading to a hard drive full of files labelled “finish soon” and “draft”, and a notebook full of scratched out scribbles. It was like his brain had decided to abandon him, deciding it had had enough of his perpetual melancholy. He had felt drained and burnt out, a husk with no creative juices left. Luckily, Yoongi and a few of the producers had taken pity on his stressed out state and lent a hand so he had been able to finish the bare minimum three days ago - before the label pressured him further. He was never more grateful for a small break.
In all honesty, he needed a way to jumpstart his brain, and get out of the routine of home, practice, meetings, studio, home. Sometimes, he almost wished he didn’t have the success he had so he could go out and let loose a little - a club, a party, anything. But the last time he went somewhere like that he got swarmed and the police had to be involved. He couldn’t risk that, not after the trouble Big Hit went to threaten media outlets a year and a half ago, when he was caught with what they called a hickey, but was actually a stress rash. 
As he brushed his teeth today, he smiled at the mirror. Last month may have been terrible, but last night was one of the best he’d had in the past year. 
When he had heard Bang PD’s team talk about how they were attending the charity gala as he met them for notes on his songs, he was intrigued. He had read about this non-profit in the paper before. They seemed to be helping bridge the gap between people through communication and that spoke to him. So much so that he had scrolled through their website multiple times, reading testimonials and almost memorizing the mission statement. They wanted to help kids learn English for free so they could communicate globally. He really liked the idea. It was hard for him to learn the language as a kid and he knew that the only reason he became as fluent as he is from the tutors his parents paid for and his obsession with American television and music. Although he doesn’t need the tutoring anymore, he does enjoy talking to the in-house tutor at the company, John, from time to time and improving his skills. The fact that this company wanted to add a John to every school in Korea starting from the rural areas, made Namjoon want to meet the man behind the movement. Little did he know, he’d be meeting the girl who’d shift his idea of the ideal.
He had never been more glad to have convinced his company to let him and the boys attend an event. He had initially suggested it as a way to break the mundane before their comeback practices started and network while supporting a cause he liked. Two days ago, he wouldn’t have guessed it would be an actual fun night leading to him nursing a headache.
He spent the next hour reliving last night as he showered and caught up on the news. He also read the messages he sent last night over a hundred times and had butterflies each time. Wasn’t he too old for butterflies? He wanted to message you again but everytime he tried, he ended up overthinking it. Everything sounded forced or cheesy, and it was worse than any writer’s block. He threw his phone on the bed in frustration watching it bounce and land on the floor, before he grabbed it and pocketed it. Hopping around to get rid of his nerves, he decided to take a break from rereading the thread he already had memorized and check in with everyone. If his hangover was this bad he can’t imagine theirs.
Making his way back to the living room he found Taehyung now sitting on the floor, sleep still very evident on his features as he yawned and groaned. On the couch next to him sat Yoongi, holding an iced americano and staring into space. The rest were missing but he could hear a blender annoyingly whizzing in the kitchen.
“How’re you guys feeling this morning?” He asked as he sat across from Yoongi.
“This is why I don’t drink. Why did no one stop me?” Taehyung whined as he rose from the floor to leave, massaging his head. 
“We tried. You were very excited to try all the disgustingly sweet drinks the hot bartender was making for you.” Yoongi replied with a sigh. “How was your date, Namjoon? You glad I forced you to go to the bar to talk to her?” he snickered, sipping his coffee before exhaling loudly in contentment.
“Honestly, I owe you big time. She was… amazing. I don’t think I’ve talked to someone that comfortably in a while” Namjoon sighed wistfully.
“I’ll add cupid to my resume,” he deadpanned. “Is she tolerating you for another date?”
“Yeah. We’re getting dinner on Tuesday, but I want to message her now. Argh!” He ran his hands over his face in frustration. “What do I even say? ‘Hi I’m the guy who was too scared to kiss you all night so you had to do it for him, what’s your favourite colour?’” Namjoon was annoyed at himself. It’s bad enough that he was having writer’s block in his music, did he have to have it for something as simple as texting too? This was ridiculous.
“Or you could just ask her how’s her hangover today. Jeez. Do I have to draft each of your messages? Stop being a dumbass and text the person you like.” Yoongi scoffed, clearly over Namjoon’s sudden and uncharacteristic insecurities.
Namjoon gave a resigned sigh as he reached for his phone and wrote out exactly what Yoongi suggested. Hey, he was his hyung for a reason - he had a full 6 months of life experience on him.
Namjoon: Hey! Hope your hangover is not too bad today.
As soon as the message was sent, he started getting nervous. Tapping his foot incessantly while staring at his phone, willing it to buzz, annoying Yoongi enough to leave him alone on the couch in the process.
Y/N: Hi to you too! I actually don’t get hangovers so I’m doing great lol. What about you?
Namjoon: What do you mean you don’t get hangovers?
Y/N: I don’t know. Can’t get dehydrated if you’re always dehydrated!
Namjoon: That… makes no sense. Do I need to start reminding you to drink water?
Y/N: Only if you’re better than this app on my phone…
Namjoon: I can guarantee you I’m better than any app on this planet.
Y/N: Wow. Big claims! We’ll have to put it to the test I suppose.
Y/N: You never told me how you’re feeling. Oh and how’s Taehyung? Is he okay?
Namjoon: He’s doing fine. Made a pact to never drink again and if i’m being honest, I’m going to join him. I am shocked that your head is not exploding as well.
The messages continued easily after that, filled with updates of each other’s activities, playful flirting and even photos of dinner. By the time Monday rolled around, you had been messaging each other constantly, with no end to the conversation in sight and the only long pauses being when you were both asleep or working. It seemed like you would never run out things to talk about. Namjoon hadn’t messaged someone this frequently since he got out of his last relationship. It felt nice to relay his mundane day to day events to someone and he found himself excited to hear about your mundane, like how you decided to mix two different types of bad coffee blends to make a shockingly worse one. He was surprised again at how fast he felt comfortable around you. It was even starting to scare him a little - he only knew you for three days and it felt like he had known you forever! What was this weird spell you had on him?
The conversation Monday, however, was fairly sparse, and Namjoon was eager to set up plans for the next day, so that night he decided to call you.
After the first three rings, he was overthinking his decision. Maybe it was too soon to call? Maybe you didn’t like talking on the phone? What if it went to voicemail? Would he have to leave a message? What would he say? His inner monologue was quickly halted at the sound of your voice.
“Hello, this is Y/N” you sounded distant, almost too formal. He felt nervous.
“Hi… uh... this is Namjoon. Is this a bad time?”
“Oh Namjoon! Sorry I didn’t check who called when I picked up!” Relief washed over him at the change of your tone. “Sorry one sec can you hold on.” he heard you say as your voice got mumbled. He waited while he heard you talk to someone about proposals and deadlines. Were you still at work? He checked his watch - it was 10 pm. He didn’t know whether to be impressed by your work ethic or worried that you were overworking.
“Hi sorry about that! How are you?” He relaxed at your airy tone and smiled.
“I’m good. Are you still at work?”
“Yeah it’s only like 7 so it’s no big deal. I usually leave around 8” Were you serious?
“Y/N… It’s 10:04…” He was shocked at how nonchalant you sounded, and suddenly he had his answer - he was worried, not impressed. He had known you for three days and already you were setting his caretaker alarm off. He wanted to scold you for being careless and overworking, like he’s used to doing for the boys, but he knew it was too soon. He doesn’t even know why he’s feeling that way all of a sudden and tried to suppress his protective instincts.
“No it’s not! It’s…” He could hear your voice going further away as he imagined you moving the phone in front of you to check the time. “Oh shit you’re right. What the hell? Okay sorry I’m gonna put you on hold again.” Before he could say anything he heard your voice again, distant again but loud. “Oh my god. Guys, it’s 10pm. Go home! Why did nobody tell me? No it doesn’t matter we can do that tomorrow. Please go home. Pack up now! You too Siwon, don’t worry I’ll go home after I get off the phone. See you!” He smiled at the sternness of your tone - it reminded him of a teacher dismissing class.
“Sorry about that. I didn’t realize I overworked my team. Had to send the troops home” you laughed and Namjoon felt his heart flutter. 
“I don’t wanna keep you from going home. I can call you back once you get there” he offered. He felt bad that you were staying in an empty office on his account.
“Oh don’t worry about it. It was a lie to get Siwon off my back. I’m probably gonna be here till like 1 or something. I still have to get this done” you said matter-of-factly, like it was the most normal thing in the world. He knew that tone fairly well, having used it multiple times himself when he locked himself in his studio, running on nothing but coffee and energy bars.
“Okay I know we’ve only just met and we have our first date tomorrow, but do you want some company?” He asked before he could stop himself. The line was silent for a bit, and he felt self conscious, scared that he had overstepped and driven you away. Before he could check his phone to see if you had hung up you spoke.
“It’d be pretty boring for you to watch me just type away. Are you sure? It’s pretty late.” He was sure his cheeks would hurt from how wide he smiled.
“It’s not a problem at all. I was going to work tonight too.” He wasn’t. “We can just work together. I’ll bring food. Did you eat yet?” his words tumbled over each other.
“How very college of you.” He could hear you giggling on the line. “Now that I think about it - I’m starving.”
“Okay text me the address, I’ll be there soon.”
He had never been this excited to pretend to work.
  ____________________________
He spotted you as he walked through the doors of the 13th floor, pepperoni pizza in hand. You were sitting at a long desk near the middle of the room. He was surprised as he expected you in an office, but he found you typing away at your desktop. Your hair was tied up in a bun and you were dressed in an oversized beige t-shirt, eyebrows furrowed head bopping to the hip hop track playing through the speakers. You seemed to be in your own little world. He felt like he was spying on you as he leaned against the door watching but he also liked seeing how you acted when you thought no one was watching. He was about to announce his presence when the track changed to a Childish Gambino one and you whooped and started to rap along.
You were now fully head banging and rapping the verse at the top of your lungs. He would be impressed by your fairly good amateur skills if he didn’t find the entire scene so endearing. His heart was doing somersaults as he watched you now fully engrossed in the song, typing forgotten as you got up and started to pretend you were on stage, an imaginary mic in your hand asking haters if they “eatin’ though”. You looked so adorable that he couldn’t help but squeal a little “cute!”
That’s when you saw him, eyes wide. He felt a little bad when he saw how embarrassed you looked, immediately stopping and slapping a hand to your mouth before bursting out in nervous laughter. He could write a whole album with that laugh. Oh he was so whipped, he thought to himself as he made his way to you.
“You know you’re not half bad!” He exclaimed as he set the pizza on the table, pulling a chair next to yours and settling down.
“Do you think your fake compliments will save you from the fact that you were spying on me?” you asked, crossing your hands across your chest, pretending to scowl but failing to.
“First, real compliment. Second, would pizza save me?” He opened the box and proudly smiled, loving the way your eyes lit up as you reached for a slice.
“Yes it will!” you exclaimed as you took your first bite, lightly moaning at the taste. “But erase that memory from your brain please.”
“Nope. Never. It was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen and I’m going to save it forever” he said as he also started on his slice. You pouted up at him, cheeks puffed and it took all the self-control he had to not kiss it off your face. He hadn’t felt this way in so long, it was like you were his first crush. Trying to control his pulse, he asked “What are you working on so late?”
“Oh I have a proposal due for a meeting tomorrow at noon and I’m only halfway through it.” you frowned wistfully at the screen as if willing it to type on its own.
“Can I help?” He asked, knowing fully well that he couldn’t. He just had an overwhelming urge to make that frown disappear.
“You being here is help enough,” you smiled sincerely as you looked at him and he felt his heart explode, a blush creeping on his cheeks as he smiled bashfully. “What are you working on?”
“I have a few songs I have to finish the lyrics for. Been procrastinating” he rubbed the back of his neck as he pulled out the notebook from his back pocket.
“Can I help?” you echoed his question to which he echoed your response grinning. He wasn’t lying though. Even though he had planned to not really work, as the night progressed he found the change from his usual writing spot inspiring. Sitting next to you, the sound of the keyboard clicking was soothing leading to words pouring out of him. He filled pages as he stole glances at you concentrating on your proposal, tongue peeking from between your lips, still bobbing to the music which was now playing from your airpods instead of the speakers. He smiled at the sight, before focusing on his notebook.
After about an hour or so of hard work, he finished three songs that he had allotted himself the whole week to do. This was the most productive hour he had all month. Antsy for a break, he looked over at you and found you staring at him, a hand under your chin. As he met your gaze you smiled.
“You’re really hot when you concentrate. Has anyone ever told you that?” you commented. He was taken aback by your remark, heart fluttering at your smirking face. Not missing his chance and spurred on by the comment, he scooted closer in one sweep till your knees touched and you were face to face.
“You’re one to talk. I couldn’t stop looking at you this past hour.” Gazing into your eyes, he was amused to see your smirk disappear as it was now your turn to be shocked. He reached out and tucked a stray hair behind your ear letting his hand linger, enjoying the way you sighed as he did. “Can I make good on my promise now?” He whispered, his face centimeters away, looking at your lips. The way you bit your lower lip made him want to take you there and then. The desk looked big enough. Hell, even if it wasn’t he could make it work.
“Promise?” you whispered as he watched your eyes flutter to his lips.
“To kiss you first...” Too impatient to wait for your answer, he brought his lips to yours, relishing how soft they felt under his own. He was thrilled at you returning the kiss, deepening it as you grabbed the collar of his shirt to bring him closer just like you did after the party. He was beginning to think this was your signature move, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t immensely turn him on. He moved his hand cupping your face to rest on your neck and he could feel your heartbeat mimicking his. He put his other hand around your waist pulling you closer, wanting to be as close to you as he could get. He traced his tongue over your lips, his head cloudy with endorphins as you opened your mouth inviting him in. He had never tasted something so euphoric, his tongue exploring yours in a rush.
He could feel you pushing forward as he leaned back and allowed you to straddle his lap, your legs on either side of the chair. As soon as you were on his lap, he pulled you closer, both arms around on your hips, your chest flushed with his. He kissed the side of your mouth as he made his way down your jaw to your neck. You smelt like vanilla mixed with a fresh flower garden, and he was sure this smell was better than any drug in the world. He could hear your breathy moans as he sucked where your neck met your collarbone, licking to soothe it before moving further. He wanted to taste all of you. Your hands were in his hair and each tug made him groan into you, making him harder. He could kiss you like this forever. He wanted to save this moment so he could come back to it and relive it. He traced his hands up and down your sides, moving under your shirt but remaining on your waist, enjoying the feel of your soft skin.
“Namjoon… Namjoon... slow down” he heard you say breathlessly as he felt a slight push. He looked up at you, your eyes half lidded and lusty as you grabbed his face and brought it to yours. You were sending him mixed signals, but he didn’t care as long as he could keep kissing you.
“We have to slow down or I’m going to want to fuck you right here.” You whined as you both came back up for air, but you kissed him again nevertheless. Hearing you say that made him want to do anything in his power to make that happen.
“I don’t mind, baby,” he said against your lips, kissing you with urgency, biting your lower lip and pulling it gently to elicit another moan from you. To his disappointment, you seemed to have better self-control than him as you pushed him back, both of you panting as you struggled to catch your breath. He moved his hand back to your hips tracing little circles, feeling comforted by you smoothing his hair you had pulled earlier.
“There are cameras here. I’d rather not make a sex tape on our first date.” You giggled as you pointed to the black sphere in the corner of the room. He had never hated the obsession buildings had for security more, but the crudeness of your comment made him laugh. He had almost forgotten this was your first date, it felt like he had kissed you a thousand times before. You tasted like the relief of an awning in the middle of a summer downpour.
“I think we need to cool down,” you say as you climb off of his lap. “Let’s go.”
He followed you as you led him to the little kitchenette near the end of the room, unable to resist the urge to wrap his hands around your waist in a back hug. He knew he was being too clingy for a first date, but the way you giggled and put your hands over his gave him assurance.
“Lemonade, coke, or water,” you asked as you peered into the fridge.
“You.” He smirked kissing your neck, feeling bold off of the high from your makeout session. 
“Joon!” you pretended to sound scandalized as you turned in his arms, smiling warmly. The nickname made his heart swell. It added a familiarity that he didn’t know he missed from you.
“You haven’t called me Joon before. I like it” he smiled as he pecked your lips.
“Hey! We are cooling down! No kissing! Now pick” you chided and Namjoon couldn’t help but wonder if you were this assertive in bed too, a million scenarios playing in his head. Okay, you were right, he needed to cool down.
“I’ll just have water, thanks,” he said as he grabbed the bottle you passed him, opening and gulping half of it. He hadn’t realized how thirsty he was for something other than you. You both made your way to the tables, sitting across from each other.
“So did you finish your proposal?” He asked trying to cool himself but failing as he noticed you running the cold water bottle against your neck, the beads of condensation dripping on your shirt. He cleared his throat as he tried to focus his attention on your eyes, a mantra of stay focused playing in his head.
“Yes! Finally! It’s perfect.” you smiled proudly and somehow he felt a wave of pride too. “What about you? Made any progress?”
“Actually yes. I kind of finished my entire week’s writing in that one hour” he was still amazed by his own progress.
“Okay, Mr Overachiever” you joked and he chuckled.
“To be honest, I didn’t think I’d be able to write anything, but I don’t know your presence is kind of soothing. It helped me focus.” Watching your smile grow wide, he continued, “I’ve been having pretty severe burnout this past month and it has just been hard to put down my thoughts, even non-lyrical ones.” He fidgeted with the water bottle as he looked at it, avoiding eye contact.
He didn’t know why he was telling you this. He recalled when he told you about his struggles as a leader during your first conversation. Somehow being around you led him to vomit out his feelings. It was… unlike him. Namjoon was usually not this honest on dates, or relationships, as much as he would hate to admit it. That’s the reason he broke off his last one. He felt bad lying to her about a busy schedule when he just wanted to be alone. She would have understood, she was kind and thoughtful, but it just felt easier to lie and not put the effort in to explain his thoughts. Even when they broke up, he lied and told her that it was because he couldn’t handle being in a relationship at the moment, when in reality things had cooled off a while ago and he felt guilty as his feelings faded.
He felt your hand reach out and grab one of his, intertwining your fingers. He felt comforted by the gesture as you rubbed your thumb across him before you spoke two words that warmed his heart. “I understand.”
“You know it’s hard to work at full speed all the time. It’s okay to not be at a hundred all the time. The valleys feed the peaks” you continued. It was a simple remark, but it sounded surprisingly poetic to him. He hadn’t felt this understood outside of the boys for a long time. It was refreshing. It was terrifying. He resisted his natural urge to run and hide.
“Are you speaking from experience?” he asked, needing to divert the attention away from his own vulnerabilities.
“Yeah. I had it pretty tough a couple of years ago. Too much pressure from myself, too many expectations. Led to too many vices and panic attacks” you shrugged as you continued and he squeezed your hand to comfort you. “It creeps up from time to time but my therapist and I have it handled” He looked at you in awe. You hadn’t given him a throwaway answer or switched the limelight back at him. You wasted no time in being as vulnerable as him, if not more. He knew at that moment that regardless of where this thing went, he wanted you to know you better.
“Thank you for being honest.” He brought your hand to his lips and kissed it gently. It was an intimate gesture but he wanted you to know how much he appreciated your words - how much he appreciated you - in that moment. You both sat in comfortable silence for a little while, playing with each other’s hands that were still intertwined, till one of you yawned loudly causing the other to giggle. With the weight of the conversation lifting, you both fell back into playful banter as you decided to pack up and call it a night.
“Do you want me to walk you to your car?” Namjoon asked, wanting to drag the night on longer despite it already being almost 2 am.
“Don’t judge me but I actually don’t know how to drive. I was just going to cab back.” he saw you giggle bashfully as you pulled your backpack over your shoulders.
“Oh, no judgment here! Me neither” he laughed. Why does everyone think it is such a big deal to not drive? It’s better for the environment! “Do you want to take one together? I don’t really want you to ride alone this late.” He rubbed the back of his neck, hoping he didn’t come off as if he was trying to dictate what you did.
“I’d really like that,” you said as you walked towards the elevators. He held your hand as you both got on, liking the way you moved closer to him at that. 
In the cab you both sat closer than necessary, his arm wrapped around you as you both made plans for your scheduled date later that day, trying not to doze off. When the cab stopped all too soon at your apartment, he kissed you gently as he told you how much he enjoyed your company.
That night laying in bed, his heart felt full as he read your goodnight message. He was sure of it now. He really wanted you in his life.
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winifredsandersonsbitch · 4 years ago
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“Why Not Me?”
Spike x Summers!Reader, BTVS
Warnings: angst, character death, cursing, some sexual content
Description: The reader is struggling with their sister’s death and needs a helping hand. Set between the end of S5 and the beginning of S6.
This has been sitting in my drafts for a hot minute while I’ve been working on other stuff. It’s actually one of the first Spike pieces I wrote 🙈 I’m not in love with it, but I’ve been busy with other things lately and I wanted to release some new content, so here you go! I’m currently working on figuring out how to put together a masterlist and link my stories with the read more thing that I see on other fic writers’ pages so things are a little more organized.
Also (last thing, promise), I just wanted to say how much I appreciate the likes and comments you guys leave! @kind-wolf especially has helped motivate me so much in releasing new work, even if I feel it’s not my best ❤️
The first few days are hard. You wouldn’t be able to get yourself out of bed if not for Dawn. Everyone keeps peeking glances at you like you’re broken, like after your mother died but worse.
Infinitely worse, because Buffy and Dawn are your responsibility. You’re the oldest. You’re meant to protect them, to shield them. But all you’ve ever done is watch as your sister saved the world. And now even that has been taken from you.
You keep busy. You can only take so many days off work, trade so many shifts. Soon you have to go back and Dawn has to go to school, unless you want her to be taken from you, too.
Spike watches her for you while you’re at the diner. You’ve shortened your hours so you can sometimes be there with her before she goes to bed, but you’ve still got bills to pay. And you can’t bring up downsizing like you once meant to. Not when the house is the last thing linking the formerly whole Summers family together.
Willow does her best to play therapist, considering how you can’t go to a real one. First of all, they’d probably commit you for telling them your story. Second, you don’t have the strength to let anyone else in. Expanding your world to include more people only means that you have more of them to lose.
You made some mistakes in the first few weeks. You’re not proud of them by any means, but you’re doing your best to own them.
The worst one involved Spike.
One night (or, rather, morning) after your shift was over, you had come home and showered. As usual, you cried for as long as you could justify letting the water run. Then you stepped out and wrapped yourself in a fluffy towel that you almost dropped when you saw him waiting in your room.
“I think we need to have a chat, Summers.”
He patted the bed next to him, just like he had when he tagged along for the first time to your diner shift all those months ago. The gesture made you want to cry again.
“Let me get dressed,” you mumbled. You rummaged through your dresser for a tank top and sweatpants, the only types of clothing besides your uniform that you had been using since the funeral. Then you locked yourself in the bathroom.
You strongly considered crawling out the window, but you were too loud when you tried to pry it open and Spike rapped loudly on the door.
“Don’t even try it, love.”
Resigned, you came out to sprawl on your bed and wait for the lecture.
Spike started in as usual by saying that you weren’t taking care of yourself. Once again, you reminded him that you were a perfectly capable adult who was keeping an entire household running and that you didn’t need him or anyone else questioning you.
“I know you’re capable, that’s not the point—”
“Then what is the point? What right do you have—”
“I’ve been right here beside you the whole time! I’m allowed to have some input—”
“I’m sorry, is your name Spike Summers? No? Then get off my ass about—”
You could see in his eyes that he wanted to shake some sense into you. He thought you were the one being obtuse. But all you were doing, all you had ever tried to do, was to hold everything together.
“Summers,” he growled. The two of you had been inching closer together during your heated argument, your voices raised dangerously, considering Dawn was still asleep. For a moment, you saw a flicker of his other face. Even knowing he wouldn’t hurt you, you gulped. “Stop being so bloody thick about everything. You’re working yourself to death, and who’s going to be here for Dawn if you’re carted off to the hospital?”
Normally, this was the point where the tears would flow against your will, but you only felt frustrated. Then Spike tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and it boiled over.
“Let me take care of you,” he said, and you still don’t know why you did what you did next. Maybe you wanted to push him away like you had been doing with everyone else. Maybe you wanted a distraction. Or maybe you just wanted him.
You kissed him.
It was an automatic reaction, but if you had to guess, you’d say it was probably because you needed to show him that you were fine at taking care of yourself. You were still an independent agent, making your own decisions, however poor they might be. But you didn’t think that was the message he got at all, because it turned needy real quick.
His hand came to the back of your head as he wove his fingers through your hair in a tender gesture, but you didn’t want tender. You wanted the pain to be blocked out. You tried to seal yourself to him, pulling yourself into his lap. You ran your nails over his jaw, his neck, and then his chest, clawing at his shirt. He lifted it halfway, enough for you to see the defined abs that waited beneath, before he pulled away abruptly and dumped you onto the bed.
“We can’t,” he said, panting. “You’re grieving.”
“I’m fine.”
You crawled over to him and slipped off the edge of the bed to press him against the wall, but he held you back.
“You’re sick. It would be taking advantage.”
He knew before the words left his mouth that it was the wrong thing to say.
Your eyes widened and you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, suddenly wanting every trace of him off you. You stepped toward the door backwards, almost tripping over your backpack.
“No, my mom was sick,” you said with your hand on the knob. Then, whipping back around, your face contorted like a Fury: “You’re sick, you know that? You chase after me for months, following me to work, to school, telling me you don’t want to see me hurt myself. You hold me while I’m sleeping and touch me when you think no one’s watching and joke in front of the others about how you’d like to see me naked and then I give you the chance to and what? Has mourning made me so awful to you?”
Spike couldn’t have been more shocked if you slapped him. He kept waiting for your knees to buckle, for you to break down, but you never did. Not in front of the others, not in front of him. Anyone would think you were the goddamn Energizer Bunny, if not for how exhausted you looked.
“Love—”
“Don’t fucking call me that,” you said. “If you aren’t willing to ‘take advantage,’ I’ll find someone who is.”
You didn’t slam the door. Even now, you were mindful of Dawn, of how early it was. Instead, you grabbed your keys from the kitchen countertop and made it as far as the front porch before you folded in on yourself.
Not now, you pleaded, praying to a God you weren’t sure existed. Please, let me get somewhere else first.
But you couldn’t move. You kept seeing Buffy fall over and over again, tearing through the inter-dimensional portal like a silk screen, hitting the concrete hard.
You couldn’t breathe.
It was like you could see her and Dawn up top, before Buffy dived down like some kind of fucking Olympic swimmer. You had been on the ground with the others, but you could see them in that moment. Buffy taking Dawn’s face in her hands as she cried. Playing the hero. Telling your sister how she had to do this and to remember how much she loved you both.
You didn’t see or hear Spike come out on the patio or notice when he pried the keys from your hands. You were too busy sobbing silently to the point where he was worried you might pass out.
“It should have been me,” you said, not to him or yourself, but to whatever God had taken Buffy. Glory, maybe. Someone with more power than you. “I’m the oldest. I should have been there. Bring her back and take me.”
“She was the Slayer,” Spike said softly. He didn’t touch you, just sat a fair distance away and ached. “It had to be her.”
In your crazed state, you thought God was talking back, and he happened to have a British accent. You tried to reason with him.
“No, it wasn’t about that. It was about Summers blood. It could have been me, if I had gotten there in time. If—”
“You wouldn’t have made it up the steps past Glory, past the demon. You didn’t have a chance.”
“But it should have been me!” The words came out as more of a wheeze than anything else. You weren’t taking in enough oxygen to support your crying jag. “I should have been the Slayer. I’m the oldest. Why did you choose her? Was I not strong enough?”
You couldn’t open your eyes fully through all the tears. They swam in front of your vision like you were underwater, turning your car into a coral reef, the grass of the front yard into seaweed.
“Or if I couldn’t be the Slayer or the Key, then I should have been the one to jump. You know it’s true,” you pleaded. “Summers blood. It’s all the same.”
But it wasn’t. Because whatever blood was in Dawn and Buffy contained courage.
Spike didn’t know who you thought you were talking to, but he was worried you were going to knock yourself out on the steps and split your head open, with the way you were wavering back and forth, leaning forward to weep and then throwing your head back to ask why, why, why it hadn’t been you.
Finally, he had to restrain you, scooping you up into his lap and holding you tight to keep you from getting any ideas about taking a dive of your own off the porch. At first, you fought against him, thrashing like a wildcat, but you were too tired to keep it up for long.
“Why not me?” you asked him again. Your voice was muffled against his chest, but he heard you loud and clear. How could he not?
“Because you’re needed here. You’re the only thing keeping everyone sane, lo—” He cut himself off, barely remembering how much the word had upset you earlier. “You protected Buffy as best you could your whole life. And now you need to be here for Dawn.”
“No,” you said, wrestling out of his grip enough to face him. “I mean, why don’t you want me?”
Your eyes were swollen and you had just gotten snot all over his shirt, but in that moment he was so grateful that you were alive that his heart would’ve skipped a beat if it could have. He pulled you close and kissed your forehead, breathing in the smell of your shampoo, reminding himself that you were flesh and blood right before him. You were still here.
“Any other time, sweetheart, it would’ve been you,” he whispered against your cheek. You were going slack in his arms, relaxing like a kitten, unable to keep yourself upright and rigid when you were so completely spent. He could taste your tears. “I always want you. But not like this.”
“What do you—hic—mean?”
This was alright. You were a little out of it still, but you were coherent, and you weren’t trying to hurt yourself anymore. Spike resisted the urge to pull you closer, to feel your heart beat against his chest like it was his own, just to confirm you were here, solid, breathing.
“I want you when I can tell it’s real. That you don’t need someone to take your pain away and that’s it, even though I’d strip right now, right here on the porch, if I thought it would help.”
Spike thought he might get a laugh out of you there, but your eyes were unfocused. Frightening. He lifted you up like you weighed nothing, which wasn’t far from the truth now that you’d all but stopped eating, and carried you back into the house and up the stairs to your bedroom.
“I want you so much it hurts,” he promised you as he peeled back the covers to tuck you in. “Like when I’m starving for blood and there’s no one around.”
He checked your face quickly, thinking his metaphor might’ve been less-than-helpful, but when it remained blank he continued.
“I need you. That means I have to do what’s best for you, and right now that’s not sex.”
He started across the room, but you called out.
“Spike?” You sounded uncertain, fragile. “Will you stay with me? Not for... not for sex.”
“Of course I will, lo— Summers.”
He shed his t-shirt and slipped into the fuzzy bottoms you’d gotten him a few months ago, when things were not quite good but getting back to normal, and cradled you.
He gave it a couple minutes before he tried again. “Summers, you know, if you do want sex in the future and you’re not on the verge of a breakdown, I’m your guy.”
But you were already asleep.
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eleanorbloom · 4 years ago
Text
When You’re Ready Ch. 11
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Pairing: Bryce Lahela x f! MC (Eleanor Bloom) x Ethan Ramsey.
Word Count: 4.5k
Warning: Angst and cursing.
A/N:  We are already halfway through this journey and things are finally getting interesting, so thank you all so much for all the support I’ve received and for stuck with me till this point.  ❤
Taglist: @utterlyinevitable​ @binny1985​ @shanzay44​ @choicesficwriterscreations​ @laiba-the-person​ @starrystarrytrouble​ @lahellacute​ @lucy-268​ @aylamreads​ @cinnamonspongecake​ @romewritingshop​ @angela8756​ @bratzlahela​​
Let me know if you wanna me added or removed from the taglist!
Enjoy!
_______
Chapter 11. Don’t Start Now
Don’t show up, don’t come out
Don’t start caring about me now,
The following weeks were calmer than previous. The conversation Eleanor had with Ethan seemed to work because, since that day, he stopped directing his anger toward her, and instead, he did what he was good at in second place: ignore her.
Eleanor didn’t mind, obviously. If she confronted him in the first place, was because she was tired of his childish attitude and knew very well that his next obvious reaction would be ignoring her like he did the past months. She needed peace and that was the only way to get it.
Still, she couldn’t deny that the situation was painful. She never expected to spend the first months in the Diagnostics Team in such a bad position with Ethan, when it had to be the best time to learn from him, learn from his mentor, the person she had idolized since she was in high school. And all because he was jealous.
The silver lining in all this was that it soothed things with Bryce. As she didn’t rant about Ethan with him, the next weeks were very sweet and calm in the company of Keiki. For some reason, Eleanor clicked very well with her. Perhaps it was the fact that she had many similitudes with Bryce, even if they hadn’t lived together for ten years, and Eleanor thought she was undeniably attracted to that, so it couldn’t be any different with Keiki.
Some nights a week, she would stay with the Lahelas and have sleepovers in the living room to talk and watch movies until they would fall asleep on the mattress of the new bed Bryce had bought for Keiki. Some other nights they would play cards, or just talk about the day and about life.
Eleanor would even chat throughout the day with her too.
“Wait, my sister is sending you memes?”—Bryce asked, really offended while they were taking a break in the cafeteria—"Why she doesn’t do that with me?”
“Because she likes me more than you.”
“But I’m his brother!”
“Hey, take it as she has the same good taste as you do. Another thing you two have in common.”—She winked at him and Bryce couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Mmh you’re right. Spending so much time with me it’s getting on you, uh?”—He whispered proudly, leaning to her to kiss her in the cheek.
“Couldn’t be any other way”
“She’s really disappointed when I get home and you don’t show up. It hurts my feelings.”
Eleanor released a hard laugh at his pouting lips and his puppy eyes just like a Golden Retriever.
“Ohmygod, finally I’m seeing your Golden Retriever side. Are you jealous of attention?”
“What do you think? Keiki came for me but only wants to see you.”
“She just enjoys my company, a female presence, that’s all. But what she really needs it’s her brother. You have nothing to worry about, Goldie.”
She stroked his cheek and a second later, he furrowed his brows.
“Goldie?”
“That’s my new nickname to you when you’re behaving like a Golden Retriever, just like now.”
“Excuse me? You still have no pet names for me, but I got a freaking dog nickname? Seriously, Bloom?”
“Bloom? You think you can offend me by calling me like that?”—She grinned—"We talked about this. I’m not comfortable enough to use pet names yet, Bryce. But it’s a step, don’t you think?”
“It is a pet name after all”
“God, you’re impossible.”—Eleanor sighed, getting up from the seat with the empty paper cup in her hand.—“I gotta go”
“Don’t ignore me.”
“See? You’re such a Goldie.—She laughed again.—"Gosh, you’re sooo cuteee”
Eleanor placed a hand over his hair and patted him softly, just like she would do with a real puppy. Bryce scowled her, feigning to be offended.
A moment later, she leaned close to his face and looked at him tenderly.
“I love you, Goldie.”
Then she kissed him, a soft brush against his lips that made him cackle before she parted her lips from him.
“Goddamn, you know how to manipulate me, don’t you?”—He stood up from the chair and pulled her in a tight embrace—"Love you too, princess.”
“Good boy.”—She praised, hugging him back before untangling herself from his arms and dragged him outside the cafeteria so both could get back to work.
*
Eleanor was snuggled to Bryce, deeply asleep when she heard a knock in her bedroom door. It took her a while to wake up and go to see what it was. She didn’t even think about how poorly dressed she was. Just a rose satin tank top and her panties.
“This better be important”—She murmured opening the door mid-third knock, only to find a tall figure with deep blue eyes in front of her—"Oh!”
Ethan was standing on the other side his face impassive. He tried to focus on her face, but he couldn’t resist roaming his eyes over her body for a few moments.
“Oh, uh good morning.”—He greeted, returning his eyes to her face, only to notice someone behind her, under the sheets of her bed.
“What is it, babe?”—He heard a husky voice and then he saw Bryce stirring under the sheets and looking in their direction with a drowsy expression.
Babe.  
Eleanor saw how his face disfigured hearing that single word. And obviously, the fact that Bryce was in her bed, sleeping. Ethan glanced at her stoically, but she could decipher the disappointment when his eyes betrayed him for a split second.
“It’s Dr. Ramsey”—She murmured looking back at Bryce, her cheeks flushed.
“Ramsey?”—Bryce sat up, startled, waking up in an instant.
Ethan followed his gaze.
“Good morning to you too, Dr. Lahela.”—He scowled at him briefly, evidencing how much he was hating that he was there.—"I’m sorry Dr. Bloom, I didn’t know you had company.”
His words sounded like an iceberg that made her shiver even if the room was warm with the morning sunlight filtering through the curtains.   
“What are you doing here?”
“We have a case, I need you to dress up and go with me.”
“But is my day off!”
“The Team doesn’t have days off, Bloom. Wear something nice, the board is desperate to impress this patient”
“Okay.”
“Hurry up, I’ll wait outside.”
Eleanor closed the door and looked at Bryce biting her bottom lip, guilty.
“I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t worry. You better finish this case soon, so you can come back to me.”
“We planned this for weeks. It’s your birthday.”—She pouted, sitting over the edge of the bed, beside him.
“Baby, we celebrated last night.—He took her hands and caressed her palm softly—"I slept with you, I woke up with you, and I have my sister here in Boston, what else can I ask?”
“Well, if you put it that way…”
“Just hurry up and go to my place once you’re done, okay?”
“Okay, promise.”—She leaned to kiss him and then got up to look for a formal dress in her wardrobe until she found a navy-blue corporate dress that had been saving for that kind of occasion.
Bryce chuckled suddenly.
“You saw his face? Oh, man. I know this is cruel, but it was some kind of birthday present to me.”
Bryce crossed his arms behind his head with a satisfied smirk over his face, while he was staring at Eleanor stripping from her clothes and putting on clean underwear.
“What do you mean?”
“His face when he realized I was sleeping in your bed. It was like his eyes were just about to jump out of his face and strangle me.”
“I want to know who thought it was a great idea to let him pass knowing you were here.”
Eleanor unfastened the dress, stepping into him one leg at a time.
“Maybe that person did it on purpose.”—Bryce speculated, standing up from the bed—“C’ mere”
Eleanor took a few steps and turned her back to him so he could zip her dress up.
“I bet was Jackie. She is such a troll and would totally do that.”—She turned to him—“Thank you.”
“If it was her, I have to thank her.”
Eleanor scowled him.
“What? She did you a favor. You didn’t want to tell him, fine. He just found us.”
She stood in silence for a couple of seconds, thinking.
“Yeah, it’s kinda relieving, actually.”
Eleanor conceded, before going to brush her teeth in the bathroom. Even if he had had his suspicions and this was nothing surprising, still she didn’t know how Ethan would react from now on. And what could unleash in her.
When she returned to the room, Bryce was already dressed up.
“Hey, you don’t need to leave. Sleep for a couple of hours more.”
“Nah, I prefer to go home, Keiki has been too much time alone.”
“Well, that’s true.”
Eleanor collected her things, cellphone, keys, and purse, and both left the room.
Once they opened the building door, they found Ethan leaned against a red mini cooper. The moment Ethan exchanged glances with them, he turned around to get in the car. Eleanor stopped a few feet away from the vehicle and smiled at Bryce, her cheeks blushed.
“Well, that’s me. I hope this ends soon.”
“I hope so too. Have a great day, babe.”
“You too, birthday boy.”
She kissed chastely in the lips and then turned to get in the vehicle.
The first consequences of what had happened were seen a few blocks away for her apartment. Ethan started to call her out because if they were doing home service to patients now was only because of her and her decision to pursue wealthy patients to save the Team. But she didn’t waste energy in replying. Instead, she decided to simply turn a deaf ear to any of his outbursts and ignore him the whole ride.  
However, when his anger risked the possibility to compete with Mass Kenmore to cure Leland Bloom, one of the wealthiest men in the country, Eleanor decided to speak up. She didn’t brook up for weeks his hurtful words just to let go of a wealthy patient that could probably help to solve two and maybe more patients that don’t have the resources to be treated in any other hospital.
As Ethan left the house after declining the competition Leland Bloom had offered,  without consulting with his colleagues, Baz, June, and her followed him outside to talk some sense into him.
“Ethan”—Spurted Baz—“Please, we need this. You know we need this.”
“No, I’m not going-”
“Could you please surgically remove your head from your ass for one second and consider that this is for the Team?—Eleanor interrupted, employing the same words he had used last year when Declan Nash was denying to even have a conversation with him about a possible treatment for sepsis. She wanted him to know how stupid and irrational was being at that moment.
“Excuse me?”
“You’re behaving like a goddamn diva, a freaking a spoiled child, you know? Do you think your ego is bigger than the needs of the Diagnostics Team? How unprofessional of you, seriously.”
Ethan’s face disfigured at words, exposing his embarrassment and mortification. After a few moments, he glanced at his colleagues apologetically.
“I, uh… Spoiled child seems to suit the occasion. And unprofessional. I owe you all an apology.”
Baz and June seemed clearly surprised by the bold words Eleanor had used on him and how she got to tame his anger in just a few seconds when Ethan had been punishing her for weeks after what happened with Gwyneth. When Ethan wasn’t looking at them, Baz raised his thumb, nodding amazed. 
*
After the meeting with Leland Bloom, the team returned to Edenbrook to discuss the possible diagnosis with the information provided by the patient.
“The results will be ready this afternoon, so I’ll be doing rounds while I wait for them”—Eleanor informed after ordering the exams in the Nurses’ Station.
Ethan nodded imperceptibly but didn’t say anything, making Eleanor sigh.
She needed to talk about this. Her colon couldn’t support another day or another week avoiding the topic and hearing his outbursts just like that day. Now that the truth was out, there was no point in avoiding facing it. She looked around to check if there was any sight of June or Baz near, but the hallway was absolutely deserted.
“So, you stopped acting like a spoiled child, but you’re keeping the unprofessional act?”—She asked, standing in front of his desk, arms crossed and serious glare.
“Excuse me?”—Ethan took off his glasses, visibly offended.
“You are clearly pissed off with me because you saw me this morning with Bryce, and if you are bringing personal stuff to our working relationship, let me tell you that you’re being pathetically unprofessional, Ethan.”
“Watch out your tone, Bloom.”
“Watch out your reactions, Ramsey.”—Snaped her, instantly—"You have scolded and snubbed me for weeks just because I’ve ignored all your insinuations, and  you can’t keep being like that.”
“Insinuations, what are you talking about?”
“Oh, please. Don’t act like you don’t know it. Since you came back from the Amazon you have waited for me to make a move on you, even if you said we were over for good. And when you realized that I wasn’t gonna play that game, you started to act like an ass just like before you left.”
“Clearly ego issues are contagious, and the scalpel jockey infected you badly.”
“Oh. So why the hell you’ve been acting this way with me, then?”
“Because you went behind my back in contacting Gwyneth Monroe.”
“No, it started before her. When we visited Evelyn Vega’s art exposition you were already acting weird. The fool’s act doesn’t work with me, Ethan.”
He stared thoughtfully, trying to suppress the words that were about to come out of his mouth. He didn’t want to say it. It was against his nature and against the decision he had made. But like everything that involved Eleanor, he was about to act against all his self-control.
“Four months ago you were so… persistent about us being together, and now you’re dating him?”
“A lot of things can happen in four months, you’re smarter than that, Ethan. And should I remind you that you were the one who ended things and only wanted a professional relationship?”
“No, I know that.”
“Then tell me, why is all this fuss really for? We broke up whatever we had four months ago, so clearly my personal life it’s not your concern, and yet it’s messing with our working relationship.”
“I just don’t understand why you’re with him.”
“What do you mean by him?”
“He’s shallow, annoying, egocentric, a scalpel jockey, and you deserve more than that.”
“Don’t you dare to talk about Bryce like that, Ethan.”
Ethan stopped, eyes wide opened, surprised with the almost visceral reaction she had had at hearing his words.
“I’m wrong? Do you know what’s behind all that skin-deep beauty and ego?”
Ethan knew he was more than that, but still, he wasn’t enough for Eleanor. He needed a sharp mind, someone, that challenges her. Someone like him.
“Of course I know him, why the fuck do you think I’ve been with him for three months?”
Since the first moment her intention wasn’t to hurt him, but god, he was being so mean that somehow now she wanted to throw all over his face how much time she had been with Bryce, so he knew this wasn’t an insignificant relationship and that she didn’t spend two whole months crying for his absence. At least not physically, but emotionally, she did.
“D…”—Her words were like a punch in the face. Three months.—“Don’t you see he’s not for you? You deserve better than that, Eleanor.”
Eleanor took a deep breath, containing all her anger. She didn’t want to make a scene. She had to be an adult, but it was difficult when Ethan was acting this irrational and stupid.
“I don’t know who you think you are to talk about someone you clearly don’t know. Not even your status as a second-best diagnostician in the country gives you the superpowers to know a person without really talk or spend time with them.—She took another breath—"That said, I’ll inform you that Bryce has been all the transparent you never were with me in all this time. When I was about to be suspended by the Committee, he was there to give me moral support. When you left for the Amazon, he started inviting me out because he couldn’t stand to see me sad. He saw my pain and did something to relieve me, not like you, that every time you saw me drowning, you preferred to ignore me because it’s easier than to deal with my emotions and yours. When I’m sad, when I can’t deal with this whole situation with you, he is there for me, to supporting and listening to me. So, do you really think I don’t deserve someone like him?”
Ethan felt how his ego was taking hostage of his body, he hated to be this way, but that question had been wandering her mind since the moment he saw Bryce in her bed.
“Do you still love me?”
That question took her by surprise. She knew he would ask her at some point, but not now. Still, she didn’t have intentions to deny it.
“Unfortunately, yes. But it isn’t important, actually.”
“It is.”
“It’s not.”
“Eleanor…”
“Why do you care now?”—She interrupted before he could say anything that could trick her mind.—"You were very clear to me that nothing can happen between us, you ignored me for two months when you left for the Amazon, and now that I’m doing my life you suddenly care? The bollocks, Ethan.”
“I never thought you…”—He stopped mid-sentence.
“That I would move on? That my life would keep going after you? I can’t believe you’re this selfish Ethan. And this egocentric.”
“I don’t mean it like that…”
“I don’t care. Whatever you have to say, save it. You had your chances, and you preferred the easiest path. Punish me and ignore me, and I don’t deserve that.”
Eleanor left the room, her heart racing really fast. She was angry, scared, sad, anxious, guilty. All the stupid feelings Ethan always managed to make her feel, now were invading her mind and heart, threatening to explode inside her. She ran to the nearest restroom she found and once there she locked herself in the cubicle, releasing a sob.
All that had been holding up these weeks since Ethan was back in Boston, was now free. All that had been holding up because of Bryce, because she wanted things to work, but she wasn’t going to make Ethan a regular topic in their relationship. She had shared with Bryce the whole fight and how of an ass he was acting but never told him how she really felt. How devastated she was with the fact that he was ignoring her and scolding her because she had moved on. Never told him how difficult it was not even looking at him in the eyes because she was afraid that she would surrender to her most deep desires. Never told him that this whole situation was unfair because that was a moment to be learning from him, not avoiding him. Instead, she was receiving the worst of him as a person and as a doctor as he was throwing all outside the window because he was jealous.
And now she was feeling angry and more disappointed than ever. She never expected that Ethan would question her choices, especially the person with whom she had to move on. And never expected him to be this prejudicious. That he would suggest that Bryce as her partner was synonymous with insult and indignity. 
She felt sick at realizing how blindly selfish he was. And for a person like that, Eleanor couldn’t spend another tear, so after a few deep breaths, she wiped the tears from her face and started to wander around the hospital to find something useful to do.
Half an hour later, she was informed that the results couldn’t be ready that day, so she went back to the office to inform Ethan, in the hopes that she could leave early to spend the rest of the afternoon with Bryce and Keiki.
“Dr. Ramsey, the lab has informed me that the results couldn’t be ready today, there was a problem with previous analysis that had to be made again and that is on top priority, but they’ll be ready tomorrow morning.”
“Alright. You’re discharged, then.”
“Thank you.”
She was about to grab her purse when Ethan stood up from his chair.
“Eleanor, wait.”
She turned to him, her face emotionless.
“I need to understand why.”
“Why what?”
“Why you… moved on so fast when you… you said you love me. How could you leave what we had in the past just after a month? Was all you said a lie?”
Eleanor felt heartbroken. She sensed his pain and how subtly he was acknowledging that after all this time he still couldn’t move on, but at the same time, she couldn’t believe he was questioning her feelings when he had been the one who broke everything they had.
“How… How can you doubt my feelings, Ethan? How?—She said as her voice was breaking—"I was honest with you the whole time. The whole time you were ignoring me I opened up my heart to you, I ridiculed myself in front of you every time I tried to make to your senses. You really think that all that was a trap?”
“No, but…”—Ethan walked towards her and stopped a few inches away as he sensed her discomfort.—"How could you do it so fast and…. with someone so shallow, you deserve better than that. You’re brilliant, you need someone who comprehends your sharp mind…”
“Shut up!”—She roared—"I’m tired of this shit, Ethan. Don’t ever talk about Bryce like that, you hear me? You have no idea…”—A sob escaped from her throat. It really affected her how bad he was treating Bryce—“…how wonderful he is and all the things he had done for me. If you knew, you wouldn’t be saying this bullshit. You should be grateful to him instead.”
“Why you say that?”
“Because he cleaned the mess you made. You were the one that broke me into hundred pieces, and not just when you left, but every time you ignored me and pretended that I didn’t exist, every time you didn’t answer my calls or emails, even when you started to punish me for moving on. You have spent months breaking me, Ethan. In million pieces. And you know who took all the broken pieces of me, who is putting them all together? Him. Like the brilliant scalpel jockey he is, he has been stitching every single piece of me with love, dedication, with patience, with a lot of patience. He has shown me how real and selfless love is by being a good friend, inviting me out, making me laugh, putting me on top of his priorities when not even I was putting myself first.  And he had never hurt me, you know? So don’t ever say that I don’t deserve him, because he’s precisely what I deserve after all the hell you made me live.”
Ethan couldn’t say anything, and after a few moments, Eleanor turned to leave, but before she could take her belongings, he spoke.
“Do you love him?”
She faced him, bravery in her entire body even if she was still crying.
“Yes”.
Eleanor could see how his life fell apart, how she broke him with just a single word.
“But you said that you…”
“I love him but I’m not in love with him, yet.”
“You’re still in love with me, then?”—He said with a hint of hope.
“Yes, but that doesn’t change anything between us.”
“It does. Eleanor, I wanted to make things right, but I was afraid.”
“Don’t you think I wasn’t afraid too? I exposed myself in front of you a hundred times and I kept doing it even if you rejected me ninety-nine times before.”
“You have always been braver than I am.”
“Yes. That’s why I asking you to please end all this crap for good and let me be happy.”
“I … I don’t know if I can.”
Suddenly, he heard a hiss and before he could direct his eyes to the source of the noise, an imponent and categorically voice filled the air.
“Enough. ”
Ethan and Eleanor turned to the voice, startled, only to find Bryce standing in front of the sliding doors, his face frozen in a cold glare.
“Enough of your stupid game of making her feel guilty for the shit you created, Ramsey.”
“Bryce…"—Eleanor said in a tiny voice, clearly surprised of his attitude, but grateful that he had interrupted that tortuous exchange.
"This is not of your concern, Lahela.”
“If you are making her feel like shit, if you are making her cry like she is now, of course it’s my concern and I won’t let you do this to her anymore, you hear me?”
“Are you threatening me?”
“No, I’m asking you to behave like a decent human being and stop torturing her with your mistakes. She has paid more than enough for them, and it’s not fair you keep doing this. So, if you really, really care about her like you’re trying to show, take a step back and leave her alone.”
Ethan was speechless. He never thought he would see Bryce this serious and commanding, and that he would call him out like this. His eyes were now burning with fury and was standing a few inches ahead of Eleanor in a protective way, waiting for anything Ethan could throw at her or him and respond.
When Bryce understood that Ethan wouldn’t say another word, he turned to Eleanor.
“Come on, babe, let’s get outta here.”
“Okay.”—Her voice was barely a murmur.
"You have your purse here?”
“Yeah, it’s…”
“ Got it"—He said when he localized the black leather bag hanging from a chair in the circular table. Once he was standing beside her again, he held her hand and together walked out of the office, while the examining eyes of Ethan followed every movement of them.
The last thing he heard before the doors slid shut was a soft "It’s okay baby, I got you” after a few sobs, while through the windows he could see how Bryce was holding her in his arms, her face deep buried in his chest. Then, total silence. His hammering head full questions and guilt had deafened him. 
___
A/N2: So, with this chapter, I officially declare that Bryce is Leo cusp Virgo in my AU, thank you very much. 
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goddesstiera · 4 years ago
Text
The Mantiqueen Menace
Part three of my Captain Nova/Grimm series. Here on AO3
“Hey Captain, you got a sec?”
Nova turned from where she was writing Grimm at her terminal to Nyoka’s entrance into her quarters.
“What’s up?”
“I’ve been asked to take care of a problem mantiqueen and I could use some backup.”
Nova paused. It was technically their day off and mantiqueens were second only to primals in the Things-Nova-would-like-to-avoid list but she wasn’t one to refuse help to her friends and she couldn’t let Nyoka go alone.
“Sure, we can take a little detour. We will see if we can convince one of the others to come too. Just let ADA know where we are headed. Wait, where are we headed?
Nyoka just smiled at her and as she turned to leave, called back over her shoulder, “Stellar Bay.”
**********************
“Grimm!” 
As soon as the lift reached the ground, Nova was throwing herself into Grimm’s waiting arms, squealing in delight as he swung her around in a circle.
Nyoka just rolled her eyes at the couple but the corner of her mouth turned up, just a bit.
“Guess what?”
“What?”
“Mr. Sanjar somehow found out what you guys were doing today and it may have been suggested that he send someone to help you guys and I may have volunteered.”
Nova squealed in delight. She and Grimm never got to see each other as much as they wanted and the prospect of getting to spend time together, even working, was wonderful news.
 “I'm not gonna turn down another gun. Glad to have you, Grimm.” Nyoka patted him on the shoulder as she walked by, heading into town. “I need to refill my ammo. Meet me by the gate.” 
****************************************
"So what's the plan?" asked Grimm.
Nyoka stopped and turned towards him. "When we find it, we split up and surround her. Should keep her confused and distracted. Takes a lot of bullets to bring one down and with only three of us we have to be smart about it."
"Why are there only three of us? Where are the others?"
“That one’s on Nova.”
Nova sighed. "I had already promised everyone a day off and no one was willing to give it up." 
Sighing again, she held out her left hand, tapping each finger with her right pointer as she listed off her crew.  “Max wanted to catch up on some reading, Felix had a date, Parvati was working on some upgrades to the ship, ADA insisted that SAM clean her terminal, don't ask, and Ellie straight up laughed in my face. Almost punched her." The last part was said almost affectionately, as she shook her head and smiled.
Nova and Ellie had a weird relationship and Grimm had yet to decide if they were friends or not. It seemed to vary from day to day. Or maybe he just didn't get their friendship.
“Come on you two, less chatter,” scolded Nyoka who had already started walking again. “You’re gonna announce our arrival to everything in a two mile radius.”
“Yes ma’am,” they replied in unison. This time it was Nyoka who sighed.
*******************************************************
Their plan worked perfectly, at first. Attacks coming from three directions kept the mantiqueen confused and she kept spinning around, never getting too close to any of them until Nova’s gun jammed.
As soon as her shots stopped, the queen spun around and charged at her.
Everything seemed to move in slow motion. Nova turned to run, scrambling to get her shotgun off her back but it was too late. She tried to dodge the attack but the creature was too fast, swinging its clawed arm, slicing her across the back and knocking her to the ground. She didn’t move.
“NOVA!!!” screamed Grimm. 
Without thinking, he sprinted towards them and threw his armored body over Nova. The mantiqueen raised her claw again but a well-aimed shot from Nyoka blew a chunk of the arm off. The creature screeched in pain and rage and turned toward her, Grimm and Nova now forgotten. 
"Get her out of here," she ordered and Grimm wasted no time in complying, scooping up Nova and bolting to the relative safety of a nearby rock formation. He could hear Nyoka scream followed by a hailstorm of bullet fire. He hoped she would be okay by herself but Nova was his focus right now. He lay her gently down on her stomach and cut away the rest of her ruined jacket and shirt. 
The wound was nasty, and blood was pouring from it and a gash on her forehead but he had to push away the fear for her and focus. He slid into his training seamlessly and grabbed Nova’s med kit out of her bag. 
He stared down in horror as he realized she only had one adreno for her emergency medical inhaler. Dammit Nova. How could she not have checked her supply before going after a mantiqueen?!
He used it and after what seemed an agonizing eternity, he could see the bleeding begin to slow. He needed to get her back to town as soon as possible but at least she was out of immediate danger. 
He dressed her wound with gauze to keep it clean and dared to peek around the rock just as Nyoka finally brought the thing down. The second it hit the ground she came running towards them.
“How is she?”
“She only had enough adreno to get her halfway. Do you have any more?”
“I got one. Didn’t have enough for another after ammo. I get paid after it's done. Don’t wanna pay me and then have me die.”
He hit her with it and then gently scooped her into his arms.
“Let’s go.”
********************************
They made it back to town in half the time it had taken them to get there. They considered taking her to the doc in town but ultimately decided to return to the Unreliable and Ellie’s care.
“Ellie!” Nyoka screamed up the stairs as she had Grimm follow her up them to the mess. Ellie’s head popped out of her room as they reached the top and her eyes widened at the sight of a lifeless Nova in Grimm’s arms. 
“What the fuck happened?”
“Mantiqueen got her good and we only had two adreno. She has a nasty gash on her head too. I think she hit it on something when she went down.”
“Goddammit Nova!” Ellie had reminded her before they left to get more but clearly she had forgotten. She could tell you every detail about every hunk of junk she collected but couldn’t remember to have enough medical supplies on hand.
“Lay her on the table.”
She dug around in her med bag and pulled out two more adreno and loaded them into her inhaler.
“Grimm, get me something to clean her up with. Nyoka, go grab a blanket to cover her up. I’ll get these bloody clothes off her.”
*************
She had just finished washing the last of the blood off her skin when Nova’s eyes finally opened.
Grimm, who had been sitting next to her, holding her hand, noticed first.
“Nova! You’re awake! How do you feel?”
“Like I’ve been trampled by a herd of primals.”
“Just one mantiqueen and you are lucky to still be breathing, although you are gonna be sporting a nasty new scar as a reminder.”
“I’m touched by your concern, Ellie Bellie.”
Ellie, for once, ignored the hated nickname. “What were you thinking going out with that few adreno?!”
Nova winced at her tone. 
“Can we not yell?  I’ve got a splitting headache.”
“That’s because you cracked your head on something and probably have a concussion.”
“You are welcome to chew me out later but please can we not do this now?”
Ellie wanted to scream, No! We are doing this now, but one look at Nova and all the fight went out of her. Even with the adreno, her body had been through a traumatic injury and it had left her drained and with a brand new scar as a reminder of it forever. She sighed.
“Just get some rest. Grimm can carry you to bed, “ she replied before she walked back to her room and shut the door.
She turned to Grimm, who had remained silent through all of that. “You ok?” she asked tentatively.
“Let’s get you to bed.”
The nonanswer bugged her but she let it go, wrapping the blanket around her and letting him scoop her into his arms. They remained silent for the short trip to her room and he set her down on her bed. He turned and she reached out and grabbed his hand.
“Don’t go,” she whispered. 
He squeezed her hand with his. ”I need to take my armor back and report in. I’ll be back right after.”
She nodded in understanding, immediately regretting the movement and lay down to wait.
**************************
She was asleep by the time he returned but his approaching footsteps woke her.
“Grimm?” she called out, her voice heavy with sleep.
“I’m here.” He sat down at the edge of her bed and took her hand, interlacing their fingers.
She waited for him to say something and when he finally did, it was almost too quiet to hear.
“Please don’t do that to me again.”
“It’ll take more than a mantiqueen to take me out,” she said, chuckling. Grimm didn’t find it funny.
“Dammit Nova!” he shouted, causing Nova to jump slightly. It was the first time she had ever heard him raise his voice and she couldn’t keep her shock from showing.  He sighed heavily and stood up before continuing much softer. “You almost died and I couldn’t do anything. I feel like I failed you.”
“Is that how you see it?” She wrapped the blanket around her and stood to wrap her arms around him. “No, Grimm. We were going hunting today no matter what. You going with us is the only reason I’m no worse off than a nasty new scar on my back. You SAVED me.”
She reached up and cupped his cheek with her hand and he covered it with his own, holding it in place.
"I don't know what I'd do if I lost you," he whispered as he wrapped his other arm around her waist and held her tight.
She didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t promise him she wouldn’t be in danger again, that she wouldn’t get hurt again. That wasn’t something anyone could promise. 
“I’ve never felt like this about anyone before.” 
She remained quiet, instead leaning forward and kissing him, pouring everything she couldn’t say into it.
His hand dropped from holding hers against his cheek to her waist and pulling her even tighter against him. Her arms snaked their way around his neck as she deepened the kiss, her tongue sliding between his lips.
The blanket slipped away as his hands slowly slid up her naked back until his fingertips accidentally brushed against the raw skin of her scar and she winced, pulling away from him slightly and effectively dumping a bucket of cold water on him as he was brought back to reality.
“Shit!” he cursed, dropping his arms and stepping back from her. “I’m sorry.”
He bent down and retrieved the blanket for her, carefully wrapping it back around her naked body. “You are supposed to be resting. Doctor’s orders.”
She wanted to argue but he was right. Now wasn’t the time for that. “Will you stay?”
“As you wish.”
He helped her get settled in bed and kissed her forehead before taking a seat on the floor. He’d slept in worst positions.
“You can sleep in the bed. It’d be tight but we could make it work.”
“Nova…” he started to argue with her, remind her she was injured but one look in her eyes and he froze. He could see the fear hiding behind them, mirroring the fear he had felt. She didn’t want to be alone. “Move over.”
She smiled in relief and shifted so he could climb in bed behind her, his back pressed against the wall. She turned to face him, using his arm as a pillow, and snuggled into his chest. He carefully wrapped his other arm around her waist, mindful of her scar.
His legs were a little cramped but the feeling of her in his arms, pressed up against him far outweighed any discomfort he felt.
“Goodnight Nova.”
“Goodnight Grimm.”
Nova was asleep almost immediately. The safety and warmth of Grimm was too soothing to fight. He on the other hand, lay awake a bit longer just holding her as she slept, reminding himself that she was fine. He buried his nose in her hair and breathed in her smell until the rhythmic sound of her breathing lulled him finally to sleep. It was the best night’s sleep either of them had ever had.
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Text
Creatures of the Night
Chapter 5 - or did i snag you on my sharper edges
Back to the Beginning   < Previous chapter / Next chapter >   
AO3
Masterlist
(TW: some negative thinking and graphic(ish) imagery)
(The title for this chapter comes from "Secrets" by Lola Ridge.)
The rain came down in torrents, drenching everything in sight—including Roman. The serpent was silent, deliberating his words. Roman fidgeted in the snake's hold, simply wanting the ordeal to be over. He paused. What was going to happen once the deal was made? They'd sit a talk for the rest of the night? What about after that? Simply being told how to break the curse didn't mean he'd have any way readily available to do it. How long would it take? Would he still have to fight the demon every night until he figured it out?
Roman began to shiver with cold. The slick, metal-like scales wrapping around him weren't helping either. The demon didn't radiate any heat, in fact, it seemed to be seeping what little warmth Roman's body had been clinging to with every passing second.
"Very well," it hissed, releasing him. Roman collapsed to his knees from both relief and exhaustion, mud and water soaking through his clothes. Being terrified took a lot out of a person, he found. Looking up, he pushed his wet hair up and out of his eyes, watching as the serpent coiled in on itself, forming a tight ball. A hair-raising crack split the air, and for a moment Roman thought lightning had struck, but there was no flash of light.
The snake was gone.
Roman blinked a few times, wondering if the darkness was simply playing tricks on his eyes. He thought he saw...
"Haven't been in this body for... at least a few centuries. How do you all stand it? So restrictive," a new voice tutted from the direction the demon had once been. A figure cloaked in shadow approached Roman, footsteps squishing through the muddy grass. A quick snap, and an orb of golden light erupted into being. Roman gasped, and shielded his eyes. The sudden light startled him, and it took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust. Blinking, he saw a man standing before him, glowing sphere of amber light bobbing above his outstretched right hand, illuminating only half of his face. He wore a fancy suit and caplet about his shoulders that looked perfectly dry despite the torrential downpour around them. Atop his head sat a bowler hat as black as the night around it, and thin yellow gloves covered his hands.
"Where did... who are...?" he muttered, still trying to wrap his foggy head around what had just happened.
The man approached him and, crouching down, brought the light to his chest. Roman gasped as the rest of his face came into view.
He smirked and tipped his hat. "You may call me Dorian. Now, let's make this deal, shall we?"
                                           * * * * * * * * * *
Roman held his hands out to a sputtering fire, sitting in tense silence across from the stranger who had once been a demon. Firelight flickered across the strange scales plating the left half of his face. His outfit was odd as well. Roman hadn't seen anything like it anywhere... in modern times at least. He didn't know the last time he—it? Dorian?—had interacted with the outside world.
"Are you sufficiently warmed?" Dorian asked, looking him over with that terrifying eye that only reminded Roman of what this apparent human once was. What he really was.
He nodded.
"Don't lie to me," Dorian chided, "I will not be making a deal with a child halfway to the grave with hypothermia."
"I'm n-not a child," Roman said, wishing his teeth hadn't chattered as he did. Truth be told, his clothes were still soaked, and the fire only did so much for the front half of him. The wind whipping through the cave still drew heat from his back. Sighing, Dorian flourished a hand his direction, and Roman shrieked, in a very manly way, as warm air suddenly buffeted him from all sides, drying him instantly.
"Better?"
"...Yes," Roman said, even managing a small noise that somewhat resembled "thank you."
"Very well, if that's all in order," the demon said as if he were arranging important papers on a desk, "Let us discuss the terms of this contract. First, my side of the bargain: I do hereby swear to reveal all knowledge regarding the dissolving of said party's current magical restraints—what's wrong? Am I going to fast?"
"What? No, it's just..." Roman grappled with what he was trying to say without getting himself killed. "This isn't how these things usually go."
Dorian cocked an eyebrow. "And how many magical contract signings have you been a part of, pray tell?"
Roman's ears grew red and he stammered, "Well... one, but it wasn't—I mean, I guess they don't all have to be the same, I just assumed that it would—that you'd do it like Ursula with the whole blood ritual... thingy."
The demon's face twitched with an emotion that Roman couldn't have named if you'd put a gun to his head. Maybe it was a magical demon thing? Regardless, Dorian shook his head ever so slightly and took a breath.
"No. This contract will not contain any blood rituals. Just parchment and ink—and a little magic for binding purposes, of course." Another wave of his hand, and a scroll of yellow paper that Roman would have sooner seen in a museum than in someone's hand and a bottle of ink with a large black feather sticking out of it appeared on the ground next to him. He picked the scroll up and unfurled it. "Now, back to what I was saying. Where was I? Ah, yes..." he rambled on, explaining the contract with a bunch of strange magic-jargon, and Roman hadn't the slightest clue as to their meaning. He could have Roman agreeing to pull out all of his teeth and make them into a necklace for all he knew. Dorian paused once more, looking down his nose at Roman with exasperation.
"What is it now?"
"I have no idea what you just said," he admitted.
The man sighed and set the scroll down. "Okay, listen. I will tell you everything you need to know to break this curse, and how to keep it from happening to anyone else, but in return I need you to kill the immortal witch-traitor Ursula."
Roman paled. "You're joking."
Dorian rolled his eyes, "While I doubt a truth-telling spell necessary, if you insist..." He held out his left arm and the sleeve of his suit pulled up, revealing more scales like those on his face.
"What are you talking about?"
Dorian scoffed, "What am I—what are you talking about? Are you really going to keep up this charade even now? Honestly, I thought it was insulting earlier, but really... wait you're serious? You don't know about your powers?" He looked genuinely taken aback.
Roman laughed. "Yeah, because if I had powers, I'd definitely not use them while fighting a giant snake-demon."
Dorian's previous unintelligible expression degraded into udder disbelief. "You're telling me she didn't even tell you?"
"Obviously not."
He pinched the bridge of his nose, "Okay... okay, okay, okay, this is fine. I can work with his. An heir with no knowledge of his power. This is.... this is a disaster."
"Your vote of confidence is overwhelming," Roman grumbled.
Dorian stood, and Roman felt his fear return. He'd almost forgotten who he was talking to. It was easier when he looked semi-human.
"This dawn is almost here. Return home, little prince, and tomorrow, we'll finish this conversation... We've got a long way to go."
                                           * * * * * * * * * *
"Blackbird singin' in the dead of night," Patton sung softly to himself as he waltzed around the kitchen looking for a spatula. Pancakes rose tall and fluffy on the griddle and if Patton didn't hurry, they'd get a little more brown than golden. He located the plastic utensil after a few seconds of looking, finding it in the wrong drawer. Virgil must have emptied the dishwasher, the little angel. Patton found it more endearing than annoying. At least he'd tried to help, right? Glancing at the clock on the oven face as he flipped the pancakes, he found it was nearly eight o'clock. Roman would be out of the shower soon, and Logan would be—
That's right, Patton thought with a soft smile, stealing a look at the figure passed out on the couch. Fallen asleep studying again. Honestly, what was the point of having a bedroom if Logan was going to stay up into the unearthly hours of the night and just sleep on the couch? Truthfully, however, Patton found it just a smidgen adorable, but he wouldn't tell Logan that. He was sure Logan would sooner eat his fork than be told he snored like a kitten. He looked out the kitchen window, and sighed. It was raining—he suspected it had been through the night given how flooded their garden was. He hoped it wouldn't affect his herbs too much; he was planning on making spaghetti tonight and if he only had wilted oregano, what was the point?
"Take these broken wings and learn to fly..." The pancakes were done. Time to figure out where Virgil had left the syrup. "All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to ar—Roman!" Patton squeaked and nearly dropped the powdered sugar container, finding him leaning against the bottom of the banister, a strange look on his face. "I didn't hear you come down," he chuckled, a little embarrassed.
"What song was that?"
"...You don't know Blackbird? It's pretty popular, or, I guess, it was. I'm not too up-to-date on my music, kiddo."
Roman considered for a moment, then shook his head. "No, I've definitely heard it before, I guess it just sounds different when you sing it." He walked over and pulled out a stool, still lost in thought. Patton watched him with a hint of concern as he plated and served the pancakes.
"Will you do me a favor, Ro, and go wake Logan up? He's just over there on the couch."
"He's on the—oh, for crying out loud," he groaned, standing and sauntering over. He leaned forward and flicked the tip of Logan's nose. "Rise and shine, Sleeping Nerdy." Logan jerked awake, cracking his forehead against Roman's. They both curled in on themselves, hissing and blinking tears from their eyes.
"You did that on purpose," Roman grumbled, stumbling back to the counter.
Logan squinted at him, "You're home."
"Yes, of course I'm home, Logan. Where else would I be?" he snapped, in a little too much pain for patience at the moment.
"Logan, if you don't start going to bed at a reasonable hour in your own room, I'm going to have to ground you," Patton said with a smile.
Logan sat up, rubbing his head. "You do know you're not actually my father, Patton. Right? I'm a year older than you."
"Don't you go talking back to me, young man." Patton waved the spatula Logan's direction, and couldn't help but notice the small smile gracing his face at his words.
Roman speared a piece of pancake and ate it viciously. "I can't believe you stayed up again."
"Oh, that's figuratively rich, coming from you," Logan retorted.
"Hey, hey, what's going on, guys?" Patton said, unplugging the griddle and setting out Logan and Virgil's plates. The latter had yet to show face this morning, but Patton figured he'd be down any minute. "Did something happen between you two?"
Roman snorted, "You could say that."
"It's nothing to concern yourself with, Patton. Thank you for your concern, but we can deal with it on our own."
"...Okay," he said, a little put out. He understood that it really wasn't much of his business whatever they were arguing about, but he couldn't help wanting to assist in some way. Otherwise, he felt sorta useless. It wasn't like he did much else around here other than cook and clean and work with his mom at the nursing home. There, it was his job to help people with their problems, or talk things out with them, or keep them company. There, he was needed.
The backdoor opened suddenly and a sopping wet Virgil stepped over he threshold, trembling like a leaf.
"Virgil!" Patton cried, rushing forward. "Oh my—why were you outside? How long have you been—" he stammered.
He numbly tried to pull away from Patton's worried hands. "I'm f-fine, Pat. I'm fine, I just—let go!" he barked, and Patton jerked away, shocked.
"I... I'm sorry, Virge. I was only trying to help," he said, his voice small and quiet. Why was everyone so angry all of a sudden? Was it something he'd done? Virgil looked immediately regretful, his expression softening.
"I know, Patton, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled, it's just... I lost something really important to me last night."
Do you wanna talk about it? Patton wanted so desperately to ask, but didn't. He simply nodded, took Virgil's wet jacket from him and watched as he retreated upstairs to his room. Patton took a breath, put on a smile, and turned back to his other two roommates, who were having a silent conversation with their eyes. Swallowing, he placed Virgil's jacket in the laundry room to dry, then returned to the kitchen and ate his breakfast in silence.
                                           * * * * * * * * * *
Virgil didn't want to come back downstairs to eat after what had happened, even if he was ravenous. He'd spent the rest of the night searching with no results. He knew what he had to do, but dread sprouted in the pit of his stomach even thinking about it... and then he had to go and snap at Patton like that. He groaned and ran a hand down his face as he tossed his sopping clothes into his hamper and pulled on some clean, dry ones.
What am I going to do? he thought to himself, standing frozen with his hand on his doorknob. He'd have to go downstairs eventually, but what would he say? What could he say?
Reluctantly, Virgil exited his room and padded down the stairs in his socks. Logan was gone, presumably for work. The school year hadn't officially started yet, but all of the teachers were expected to come in and begin setting up their rooms and submitting their curriculum for review—something Logan found very tedious, and would talk any one of the roommate's ears off about. Roman sat alone at the kitchen, a bowl of cereal milk sitting in front of him with a few stray pieces of cereal evading his spoon.
Patton was nowhere to be seen.
"Hey, Ro," Virgil said, approaching. "How're you holding up?"
"I'm fine. Why do you ask?" he replied, his smile just a little too perfect. Virgil wouldn't have been able to see through it, however, if he didn't already know what was really going on. It was strange, though. Roman usually had this hollow look in his eye, the hopelessness Virgil had only seen in those on their way to the gallows. Now... it was different. Still tired—tired beyond belief—but somehow...
"No reason," he said around the lump in his throat, forcing a small smile. Roman's brow knit together ever so slightly. Virgil swallowed and continued, "Where, uh... where's Patton?"
Roman's expression relaxed, as if he'd figured it all out. He jerked a thumb toward the back door. "His sitting out back."
Virgil nodded, expressing his thanks, and made his way outside. The breeze was in that in-between stage, where one could tell it had once been stifling and hot outside but the rain had cooled it like a burn under cold water. Patton sat on the end of the porch, his legs crossed and a mug of steaming tea cradled in both hands. Virgil closed the door as quietly as he possibly could, and stood in the doorway awkwardly, not knowing how, or really wanting to, break the silence.
Patton sighed, and tapped the space next to him with a hand. Virgil felt his throat close up, and briefly considered bolting back inside before steeling himself and taking the few steps forward and sitting next to his friend.
"Patt, listen, I'm really sorry about what happened this morning. I was really stressed, and I know that isn't an excuse for being mean, but I just—"
"It's all right, Virge," he said, gazing into his mug of tea with an expression that Virgil doubted meant: it's all right, Virge. But what could he do? He doubted there was really anything at this point that he could do besides keep talking and digging himself a little deeper into the hole he'd begun this morning. He wasn't good at words. Well, he had been quite the smooth-talker all those years ago, but ever since...
No. You promised not to think about that again, he scolded himself, tugging his jacket even tighter around him. That wasn't what he needed right now. Right now, he needed to make things up to Patton, and find what had been stolen from him.
He had to find his button.
                                           * * * * * * * * * *
Everyone but Virgil was gone. Patton had gone to work after a few more minutes of sitting in silence and pondering, and Roman had expressed a need to "clear his head" and had taken his truck out nearly thirty minutes ago. Finally with the privacy he so desperately needed, Virgil rummaged through the cupboards and drawers in the kitchen. Where did Patton keep all the herbs? He could never figure out where anything was in this blasted place. Eventually, he found it:
Rosemary. Or, as many from the Witchlands referred to it, Queensleaf; it was named after the first Witch Queen herself. Roman absolutely despised the smell, claiming it made his nose itch. Virgil found this quite ironic, but kept the comments to himself.
Dumping a pinch or two into the palm of his hand, Virgil replaced the lid, put it back in the cupboard, and headed outside to the backyard. Normally, he wouldn't take such precautions, but without his button, who knows what could happen? Sure, it was just a simple tracking spell, but one could never be too cautious... right? Biting the inside of his mouth—a habit he'd yet to shake, unfortunately—he approached the old pine tree and scattered the small sprigs around the dirt he'd hastily refilled last night before heading out on his frantic search. Hopefully, that would do the trick. Using Queensleaf during spell-making was considered paranoid and somewhat superstitious, but Virgil had seen things that would make even the most stoic witch stuff rosemary up their nose at the slightest hint of magic.
"Bid the earth till its ground, thus what's been lost soon is found," Virgil muttered, feeling the magic flow out of him in a sort of jerky, detached way. He withheld a shudder. He really needed his button back, and soon. Regardless, the Queensleaf seemed to do its job and the spell came out just as it should. The air around him stilled and everything went silent, as if he'd stepped into the shadow realm. His gaze was drawn downward by an unseen force and he watched as the imprints of a pair of feet made their way across the grass from around the side of the house. They stopped in the middle of the yard, turning around a few times. The top half of the right footprint disappeared and reappeared rapidly, as if the owner had been tapping their foot. A pause, then the footprints made a beeline for Virgil. He stepped to the side and watched with growing distaste as the footprints stopped right above the spot where they box, with his button, had been buried.
A small indentation appeared in the dirt next to the prints, and the thin lines of invisible fingers digging into the soil began scoring the ground. The thief had dropped something in the dirt before digging. Virgil stepped over the prints and squatted down to inspect the small disturbance more. Perhaps he could discover what it was they'd dropped? Unfortunately, the dirt hadn't acquired anything close to a clear imprint, and the pine needles scattered everywhere didn't help. From the looks of it, the object was about the size of a quarter, give or take a little, of course.
The faint click of the metal box's latch being undone snapped Virgil out of his thoughts. In the air, hovered the now empty metal box he'd reburied. Unknown hands hefted it, shaking it a little, then slowly opened the lid. Virgil watched, not having to imagine too hard to realize that this was the moment his button had been taken. The subsequent tossing of the box back into the hole and the sloppy foot shoving the dirt back on top then tamping it down for good measure didn't help his mood much, either. The prints did a little dance, then jerked to a stop. The ghosts of fingers frantically dusted away pine needles and pinched something up out of the dirt. A small puff of dust appeared in the air.
Virgil nearly shook with rage. They'd dropped his button in the dirt, and blown the dust off like it was some—some measly piece of plastic. As if it was just that, and not an important talisman literally tying all but the most basic of his magical abilities to his body.
Lips pressed together in barely contained frustration, Virgil followed the now obviously gleeful footprints across the lawn and around the house. It wasn't until he reached the edge of the front lawn, that he realized a major problem.
Footprints didn't exactly show up on cement and asphalt.
"Charge me now to seek the thief, let light shine forth and seal their grief," he muttered. Again, the magic came out halting and shuddering, but came out all the same. No one would be able to see the spell but him, so he wasn't too concerned about following a pair of now glowing footprints making their happy way down the street.
Virgil followed the trail in circles around town, ignoring the strange looks he got from the fellow townspeople going about their day. A few times, he almost got hit by a car when he became too focused and the path veered suddenly into the road. Was this thief drunk, or something? Surely, they'd stolen his button for a reason other than to prance around town with it. He still couldn't be sure Ursula was behind it, though. While she'd seem pleased at his misfortune, he couldn't prove it was more than that. Besides, while she seemed the most likely to do something like this, she was the least probable suspect. She was halfway across the world, for crying out loud.  
But who else could possibly know about it?
Actually, he thought sourly, there are quite a few people that come to mind. A witch, a hobgoblin, a few sprites... The list grew quite extensive the more Virgil thought about it, so he conveniently stopped thinking about it and focused on the task at hand. The prints wandered down the alley behind the Chinese restaurant, illuminating the otherwise dim surroundings. Virgil's nose wrinkled at the rancid smell of rotting food and watched with disgust as the glowing footprints—and now hand-prints—rummaged through the trash for, he assumed, something to eat.
The invisible hands picked up a styrofoam takeout box and...and took a bite out of the box itself.
Virgil's temper didn't boil over. No, rather, it simmered, and reduced down into a thick syrup of pure, white-hot rage. Fists clenched, he turned his back on the alley, and ended the spell with a furious wave of his hand.
"...Remus."
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rafivadafreddy · 5 years ago
Text
I Wonder
A Rafael Barba and Amelia ‘Emma’ Herrera Story.
Summery: Amelia ‘Emma’ broke up with Rafael when he was 18 and she was just 16. He left for Harvard and Emma left for Italy two years later when she graduated. Fast-forward Fourteen years when Emma and Rafael run into each other again. Will there still be sparks between the two or have they both changed too much to be together again?
Word Count: 1,727
Chapter Two!
chapter one can be found here
Warnings: Uhm. Spanish? I honestly don’t think there are any warnings for this. Lol
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To say that having Rafael back in her life was easy, that would be a lie. Probably one of the worst lies she would ever tell. It wasn’t easy having him suddenly calling her, texting her, even running into each other at that stupid little café where they first saw each other. Emma told herself that she needed to find a new café to stop at, but she could never bring herself to do so. Thanksgiving soon came and gone, Christmas was finally over and New Year’s was just another day where people drink too much, make resolutions they’ll never keep and get into fights or accidents.
The ER was packed, Emma had her hands full. Her kids were all okay up in the Pediatric ward, so she was down in the ER helping those who came in since it was such a busy night. By the time morning came and Emma found herself on her 10th cup of coffee. She was fighting off the need to close her eyes and take a nap. She had been waiting for her patients’ exams to come back. But as she leaned against the counter at the desk. She couldn’t help but close her eyes.
 “Amelia! Don’t you dare!” Emma saw Rafael scold her as she stood before him holding a water balloon in her hand. A small smile on her face, looking as innocent as possible.
“Dare what, Rafi?” she asked the man, a small pout on her lips. “You mean… this?” Emma giggled as she threw the balloon at her boyfriend and watched as it hit him in the chest and the balloon burst. Covering him in water, soaking his shirt. Before Emma knew it, she was running away from Rafael.
It was late one afternoon; middle of July and they had been dating for a month. Emma was nearing her 16th birthday and Rafael was 17. Things were so perfect between the two of them. So in love, Emma already knew her feelings for him. She just couldn’t bring herself to say those three little words just yet. It was too soon, she knew that.
 Jumping awake when someone called out for her. She looked around and blinked a few times. Quickly, Emma was back to work and before she knew it, she left the hospital to head home.
On her walk home, needing to clear her head. She looked around as she walked, passing by crowds of people who kept making the same damn joke. “Oh, its been a year since I’ve last seen you!” Ha-ha-ha. Not funny anymore. Maybe when you’re drunk, sure.
Shaking her head, Emma waited for the walk signal give her the okay to cross the street when she watched a young couple walking hand in hand. The boy twirling the young girl around, making her laugh.
 Amelia was giggling nonstop as she and Rafael walked out of the theater. “Rafael! It was good! Stop complaining.” She poked her boyfriend as she cuddled into his side. It was the first of December and the two had just watched Three Men and a Baby. A cute comedy, even though Rafi tried to act like he didn’t like it. She knew him, she had seen him laugh during the movie.
“I’m not complaining. I’m just saying, it wasn’t all that good.” He eyed Emma and held her close with his arm around her shoulders.
Snorting, she just let out a small, ‘mmhm’ instead of answering. As they passed stores playing Christmas music, Rafael stopped walking and Emma eyed him, “What’s wrong, mi vida?” she asked, only to giggle when he pulled her in close and started to sway to White Christmas together right there on the sidewalk. Ignoring those passing by the two, nothing else existed in that moment as they looked into each other’s eyes.
“I… I love you Rafael…” Emma whispered to him and grinned when he smiled, the two sharing a soft kiss as they stopped dancing.
“Well, I love you too Amelia Herrera.” He said as his lips still brushed against hers.
Cursing as she was pulled out of her memories, Emma looked up and quickly dashed across the street. “Stupid Rafael… messing up my life… again.” She mumbled and shook her head.
Entering the café as if on schedule, Emma stood in line and waited for her turn. Scarf off and gloves being shoved into her coat pocket. By the time she went to order, Emma got herself a hot chocolate. Not sure if she could take more coffee after the night she just had. Asking for a bagel with cream cheese as well. She waited for her order before finding a seat and starting to eat her breakfast.
 Under the covers, Emma didn’t want to move. She felt like crap. She should have known better than to walk home in the rain. But she loved the rain, so she did so anyways. Now here she was, stuck at home on the weekend sick. Fever, runny nose and a cough that felt like she was trying to cough up her lungs. She had called Rafael that morning and told him she had to cancel their plans to go into the city. Hanging up after a nasty coughing fit, she got back into bed and laid there. Her mother had left for work and so Emma was just in and out of sleep.
When she fully woke up to banging on the door, she pulled herself out of bed and wrapped her comforter around her shoulders and went to answer.” I’m coming Puto! Stop banging on the damn door!” she called out, her voice breaking halfway through her yell, making Emma roll her eyes and pulled the door open. Only to frown, seeing Rafael there.
“Puto? Really? I’m hurt.” He teased and held up two bags. “I brought Mami’s chicken soup, some bread and Gatorade so you can drink something other than water.” He stepped into the apartment.
Emma just felt her eyes fill up with tears. “I love you… but you’ll get sick if you stick around me.” She sniffled.
“I don’t care... let me take care of my girl.” Was all Rafael said and the two spent the whole weekend on the couch. Even singing to her in Spanish to get her to sleep peacefully.
A few days after Emma was better, she found herself at Rafael’s apartment, holding a Tupperware of soup, bread and Gatorade for him. Just like he had done for her.
 “Penny for your thoughts?” a voice startled her, and Emma jumped before looking up.
“Rafael! DO NOT sneak up on people like that!” she narrowed her eyes and sighed.
He just raised an eyebrow and looked around. “Amelia… I called your name two times.” He said, humor laced his voice as he watched her and sat down across from her and Emma just huffed.
“Yes well… still.” So she didn’t have a remark, but can you blame her? After the shift she had. She could be sleep deprived and out of comebacks. “Don’t you need to go to work?’ Emma changed to topic and sipped on her hot chocolate.
“Nope, I was stopping here for coffee before heading over to the Bronx to see mami.” He shrugged and Emma grinned.
“Well! Tell her I send my love and that I hope she got her Christmas card I sent.”
Rafael just frowned. “You send my mami a Christmas card?”
Emma simply shrugged her shoulders, “Mmhm, I do. Its addressed to the both of you. But you moved out and I never knew where you lived after so.”
It was quiet after that, both taking sips from their cups and Emma slowly eating her sandwich.
“You know, I never did understand why you broke up with me all those years ago.” Emma looked over at Rafael as he spoke. A pained expression on his face for about a split second. But Emma had caught it.
“It was for the best, Rafi.” She assured him and reached over to hold his hand softly. “You went to law school without any distractions. I know you were planning on not going because of me. I couldn’t let that happen. I lived my life as well… I lived in Italy for gods sake… that alone was amazing. We wouldn’t be where we are today if we stayed together all those years ago. We would have stayed together and end up hating each other.” She sighed and finished her food. Drowning the rest of her hot chocolate. Emma stood up.
“Happy New Year Rafi…” Emma said softly and placed a kiss to his cheek before pulling her coat, scarf and gloves back on. Only to walk to the door and walk back out into the cold weather of New York.
Shivering, she made way to her apartment building. The apartment she now lived alone in since her roommate left to live with her fiancé.
 Laying in bed together, naked under the sheets. Emma felt her face grow hot. It had been their first time and to her it had gone perfectly. Emma had gone to Rafael’s prom with him and he had gotten a room at a nice hotel. Her mother never cared where she was, and Rafael’s mother thought he would be staying over Eddies house. With her head on his chest, Emma closed her eyes happily. Listening to his heartbeat.
“Eu ti amo mi amor...” she heard before falling asleep in his arms.
The next day when they went home, Emma was going to take Rafael his suit jacket back since he let her use it. Stopping as she neared his bedroom door, Emma frowned.
“Rafael don’t be stupid! You got a full scholarship to Harvard! You gonna give that up for some girl? A girl like Amelia?” She heard the voice of Alex.
“I love her man; I just know she’s the one for me!” Rafael shot back, Emma biting down on her lip.
Stepping away from the door, she left the suit jacket over the couch and ran out of the apartment. Knowing what she had to do. She would not let Rafael throw his future away because of her.
 Wiping her eyes, Emma arrived home and took a quick shower before getting into bed. Looking at her messages with Rafael, she grimaced before falling asleep.
                                                                                                       Three
Tagging- @the-baby-bookworm​  Reblog and Heart! Chapter 3 will be up soon!
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