#sent my doctor a message too like yeah hi i have an ear and throat infection nothing is helping

[annnnperkins]

ive literallt been crying for the past hour ljke it hurts so bad and i can’t lay down because that makes it hurts more but i’m so tired but j can’t stop crying and the pain is only getting worse

[leahblackk]

I have not sent in a request jn like 6 years but okay -

something maybe a lil big angsty but like spencer is being over the top sarcastic with reader. maybe they’re in an argument over his job or something some argument and Spencer is just being very rude and sarcastic to the point where reader can’t tell if it’s a joke or not, and in the midst of their argument spencer is called away on a case, and comes home to see reader has left. (if u wanna fluff it up at the end he can apologize profusely and they can cuddle it out but up to you leah bc your mind is genius)

Hurtful words

(Not my gif)

Summary: a little blurb by my local amazing ideas giver, Alex. Let’s all say thank you Alex for this idea.

Couple: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Warnings: Spencer being a little shit. And mentions of being injured because of gunshot. And many mistakes I’m sorry :)

Oh my god yes! I feel like I haven’t done a blurb in years. Your blurb ideas are the ones that keep me going. And you are the genius!! Your ideas are extremely amazing and I’m happy I can make them true <3

Spencer Reid.

What a mystery that man was.

Y/n met Spencer as a sweet young man with glasses and cute jumpers. A man who didn't catch certain social things. He didn’t understood sarcasm in certain occasions or indirect messages or double intentions. Of course, he knew what it was, but he didn’t know how to act with it or how to use it.

Until he learned how to be passive-aggressive.

The first time Y/n ever saw Spencer being passive-aggressive with someone was with JJ when the Lauren/Emily thing happened. Spencer, of course, was very mad about it. JJ was his best friend, the person he most trusted besides his girlfriend. He couldn’t understand why he couldn’t know. It wasn’t like he was going to tell anyone! He had the right to know that his friend whom he loved so much wasn’t buried five feet underground! He cried on his girlfriend floor for hours, and when he was too embarrassed by her looking at him, he went to JJ’s house. She saw him, she saw him crying his eyes out for her and she didn’t say a damn thing! Of course he was going to be mad.

Y/n never thought she had to worry about him being like that with her.

Spencer always has been a sweet man. But he isn’t when he’s under stress, mad or sad. The pressure over him made his IQ of 187 slashed to 63. He couldn’t think straight. And Spencer never worried about him being like that with his girlfriend. He didn’t had any reasons to be. She was all nice to him and cared about him.

But now, things changed while they were fighting in their shared apartment.

Y/n has been injured on a case after being reckless, or that was the way his boyfriend thought, but to be honest she saved a life, even if that got her hurt. She didn’t care. She would do it again. And that petrified Spencer.

Even if her doctor told her she could go back to the field. Spencer wasn’t going to have any of it. That was why they were fighting. Neither of them liked to deal with strong emotions. He wanted to say he didn’t want her to be there because he was scared he was going to lose her. He couldn’t lose her. She was his everything. His glue putting him together when the world tried to bring him down and shatter his heart. She was the thing that keeps him going. But instead of saying that, he was treating her badly and Y/n on her side wasn’t going to have any of it.

“Why can’t you understand, Spencer? I’m not a child. I can perfectly take care of myself.” She said putting her clothes on her go-bag while Spencer took them out.

He chuckled, “Perfectly take care of yourself? Yeah of course I believe you. When did you take care of yourself? When you put yourself in front of the unsub and he shot you? Yeah, Y/n, that’s taking care of yourself.”

She frowned.

That hurt.

“Excuse Spencer but you’re not no one to tell me what to do.”

“I’m your boyfriend!” He said, hurt.

“And? That doesn’t give you any right to tell me what to do. I’m a grown-up, Reid. If you didn’t notice. I’m not a child you can take care of.”

“Sometimes I think you are, you know?” He then looked at her, “You act worse than a child sometimes. Being so reckless and putting yourself in danger.”

“Like you haven’t done that yourself either.”

“I have! But I knew what I was doing. You weren’t thinking!”

“When is gonna be the day you understand you can’t tell me what to do?”

“When you stop being so reckless and actually take care of yourself,” He crossed his arms over his chest, “But apparently that’s not happening.”

She sighed with anger and looked at him. Throwing a shirt over his face and going downstairs to the kitchen to drink water and calm herself. Spencer followed her and entered the kitchen taking a glass of water as well.

She didn’t even look at him. He wanted her looking at him. He wanted to feel those eyes on him even if they were full of anger.

So he made it in the wrong way.

“And you said you’re not a child,” he murmured referring to her throwing the shirt on his face.

“What was that?” She turned around and look at him.

“You perfectly heard it, Y/n.”

“I can’t believe you’re the one calling me a child. Look at you,” she moved her hands up and down in front of him to make a point, “I’m going to that case you like it or not.”

“I wouldn’t risk the team to be with you on the case. They might end it up injured with your recklessness.”

Silence.

The words Spencer throw made echo in both lovers ears.

Reid bit his bottom lip regretting the words as soon as they came out of his mouth. Trying to take them back but the damage was already done.

Y/n looked at him without any emotion. Until her eyes start to burn and the tears came out. She lifted her hand with anger and wiped them off feeling her cheeks getting warmer and warmer.

Spencer looked at her and his heart ached. Why did he said that? She was a great agent. He was just scared of losing her and if by telling her that stuff, she would stay home safe, he would do it. But he regretted it now. He regretted it so much.

She chuckled without any humour and licked her bottom lip, tears coming down her face again.

But she let them now. Too tired.

Spencer’s first instinct was to step forward to her, but she stayed back putting her hands in front of him, to stop him.

She didn’t want to be touched by him.

He looked down.

He spends his life touching her. Loving her and worshipping her body. Touching her soft skin with soft moves, carefully not wanting to break her as she was a porcelain doll. But now, she didn’t want to be touched by him.

And Spencer understood.

He did.

It was all his fault at the end of the day. He made her stayed back when he wanted to pull her in. It was his fault. “I don’t want you to touch me,” she murmured and passed him taking her arms close to her so they wouldn’t brush his skin.

Spencer’s tears came down now.

I don’t want you to touch me.

She didn’t want him to touch her.

But all he wanted to do was touch her and let her know he didn’t mean those words. How could he? She was perfect in everything she did, her job included. Mostly her job.

Spencer didn’t notice how much time had passed while he stood frozen in the middle of their kitchen until he felt his phone buzzed. He took it out of his pocket. It was Morgan.

Hey Spencer. I know you love your girlfriend so much but we have to hurry! People are dying you know? Not everything is vanilla and roses like you two.

Spencer chuckled. Only if he knew.

He went upstairs with careful moves while he pressed his palms together trying to stop the trembling. He mostly did.

All her clothes were now in the closet, her go-bag as well. She wasn’t going to the case. It wasn’t a surprise. He knew he would achieve what he wanted after saying that. But now it didn’t felt right.

He moved closer to where she was. On their shared bed. He sat down. He was about to open his mouth to say something but she did it first. “Please don’t say anything. You have said enough and I think your thoughts are very clear,” her voice sounds broken. And was all his fault, “Just go. Tell the team I haven’t made full recovery yet.”

He nodded even if she couldn’t see him because she was hiding under the blankets.

What Spencer didn’t notice was the way after saying those words, her hands end it up on her mouth trying the sobs not to come out. She knew if Spencer heard those he would stay with her, even if they just argued. It was Spencer at the end of the day.

He would do anything for her.

Spencer full of guilty took his go-bag and walked directly to the door, looking at her once more.

He wanted to ask.

He needed to know.

You’re gonna be here when I come back?

You’re gonna still be here when I come back?

But the words never left his mouth. They got stuck on his throat. The pain and the tears as well. He needs to say he still loved her. That no matter what he still loved her. He loves her.

He-

He loves her.

But he couldn’t. So he turned around, and left.

When the front door closed Y/n finally let the sobs out.

…

The young doctor tried to avoid all the questions on why he was so grumpy and distracted.

The answer to those questions was “I just had a huge fight with the love of my life and I’m worried she leaves while I’m here. Even if she have every right to I’m still scared because she’s the only thing that keeps me going.”

But of course, he didn’t said it.

He just dismissed everything saying he didn’t have good sleep which didn’t make things better because later on, he was going to be teased by Emily and Morgan.

And when the case was finally closed, he ran to the closest flower shop to buy her favourite flowers and then he went to her favourite restaurant to get her favourite food to then ran to the metro all the way to their shared apartment.

He tried to manage to open the door with all the things in his hand but he couldn’t so he put his satchel and the flowers on the wooden floor, and he was about to put the food as well but then he thought about the germs even if the food was protected, so he put it above his satchel and he was finally able to open the door.

The lights were off which wasn’t weird of her. She wasn’t a lover of the lights of the apartment, always reminding Spencer that they needed to change them as they were too bright, but they never had time to do so, but that was exactly what Spencer was going to do tomorrow.

He then took off his shoes and put them next to the others, but her shoes weren’t there which was weird but he didn’t think too much about it. Maybe she forgot to take them off.

Spencer, then, open the door, even more, to put all the things inside of the house. He put his satchel on the little table next to the shoes and his keys as well.

Her keys weren’t there.

Spencer’s heart stopped.

Her keys weren’t there.

He breathed in and out softly trying to calm his desperate heart beating faster and faster on his chest wanting to get out. He put his palms together trying to stop the trembling but this time was impossible.

He took the flowers with him and went upstairs closing the front door behind him and he open the door of their shared bedroom.

She wasn’t there.

She-

She wasn’t there.

Where did she go?

Did she leave?

No.

No.

“No,” Spencer whispered the tears coming down his eyes.

She wouldn’t. Even if she was mad. She wouldn’t do that as everyone else did without any more explanation than a letter or a note.

A letter.

He needed to find the letter.

He searched on their bed and the tables beside their side of the bed. He didn’t look in their closet or bathroom because she wouldn’t leave that there.

Spencer went downstairs to the kitchen looking for the letter on the dining table and outside of the refrigerator. But there was none.

He, then walked to the living room looking and moving things making a mess.

He needed to read the letter.

She must have left a letter.

Everyone else left a letter.

And the door open but he didn’t heard it because of his desperation and the sound of his heartbeat making echo in his hears

He needed to find the letter.

He turned around and she saw her. Standing there with a sundress and her hair tied. She looked beautiful. She always looked beautiful, but she had a frown on her face looking with confusion at her surroundings, the mess he just made and then back to Spencer repeatedly.

And then he understood he needed to explain himself. “I-I,” he looked down and closed his eyes full of tears for a few seconds. She saw the trembling on his hands. She made a step forward from instinct but then she stopped as she remembers what happened between them. He looked up at her. He couldn’t get the words out of his mouth but she waited for him to talk, patiently while he tried to find the correct words. “I came here right away. Well not right away because I went first to the flower shop and then to your favourite restaurant,” he rambled looking at her. She didn’t stop him. She didn’t have any intention to stop him. Instead, she listens carefully. She always listens, “you weren’t at home and I’ve been nervous all these past days because I thought you would leave, and you had every right to and then I came back here and you weren’t and I looked for a-a note or letter.”

Her heart shattered.

People that left his life always left a note or a letter. She remembers when he told her that.

“I didn’t leave,” he nodded. She didn’t. She stayed. “Penelope called me and she needed help with something and then she asked me if I knew why you were acting so weird and I talked to her for a while and I didn’t realize how late it was. I’m sorry.”

He shocked his head. Stepping forward to her. “You don’t have to apologize. I’m the one who needs to apologize. I shouldn’t have treated you so badly and I want you to understand that I didn’t mean a single word because you are so great and so amazing in everything you do. I would never mean those words,” now was her turn to nodded, “I just said that because after you being injured, I didn’t want you to hurt yourself or even get killed. I’m selfish, yeah I know that. But you’re my everything, Y/n. Without you, I don’t know what will I do, you’re the only one who keeps me together and the one who brings light to my darkness. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he took her hands looking for permission first, “I said those things because I knew you would stay home, but I didn’t mean them I swear I didn’t.”

She nodded again and hugged him. He sobbed while he hugged her as his life depends on it. “I know. It’s okay love. I won't leave you I promise,” she sobbed too. “I love you.”

“I love you more, so so much.”

And they held each other while they sobbed and repeat those three little words back and forth.

They were home now.

They were okay now.

[eatyourchancletas]

SUMMARY |  y/n l/n; the trauma surgeon who was in the wrong place at the wrong time and is taken hostage by the terrifying mafia known as ateez. despite their situations, love arises between the doctor and san; but when an enemy comes in between the group, breaking trust and belief between the members, what will san choose to save; his newfound love or his brothers?

PAIRING | choi san x male reader

INFO/CATEGORY | mafia au, fluff, light angst

WARNINGS | violence, weapon usage/mention, foul language, lower case writing

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AUTHOR’S NOTE | we’re back! sorry for the long break, hopefully we can get into the flow of things! monnie’s already started chapter 5 off amazingly too :p written by both of us this time (mainly edited by monnie)! please leave feedback, like, reblog, whatever you can to let us know whether you enjoyed it or not!  (re-edited because dongwoo and changsik were switched up)

WORD COUNT | 2.4k

TAG LIST :; @jonghoshoe​  if you’d like to be added to the list please say so in our inbox/ask box!

y/n was usually called outstanding, hard-working, smart. but in reality, he was an idiot when he was outside the workforce. 

being a workaholic meant showing your skills, growing them, improving them, and practicing them constantly. sometimes it seemed to be all he knew— it’s what all the people around him saw. 

yet again, outside of it he’s quite a gullible man; which brings him to his current situation… 

“looking for something?” 

he looked away from the bandages he was previously examining to come face to face with a man that looked around his age. “not really, just restocking my clinic. or—trying to find things to restock it with.” the man nods, glancing around suspiciously, although y/n didn’t didn’t seem to take notice of this particular action. 

“this pharmacy is pretty small, but it has lots of good supplies… lots of hidden gems. want me to show you where i get my tools?”

“oh,” y/n blinked in surprise, “you’re in the medical field?”

the man made eye contact with him, managing a convincing smile. “yeah, there’s a clinic down the road from here, about fifteen minutes by foot, this is the nearest pharmacy, so we stock up from here most of the time. i work there as an assistant.”

y/n nodded, amusement sparkling in his eyes. “wow, then please! show me what you suggest.”

at the approval, the man nodded, “name’s changsik, by the way. what do you work as? i’m assuming you’re also in the medical field.”

they walked along the aisle of the cough syrups, ointments, and the few other medicines to turn and make their way to the exit door. y/n furrowed his brows, about to ask why they were exiting until changsik made another turn, walking towards the staff room. 

“your assumption is correct, i’m a surgeon…” he replied belatedly, trailing off as he stepped foot inside the room. his eyes trailed on the shelves full of unopened boxes, more prescription pills, and—bingo! the supplies he’d written down on his list. 

for a split second, the memory of san handing it to him flashes across his mind, blinking it away as he turned to changsik. “wait, how are you able to access this?”

“i’m a regular.” he glanced across at him, looking past the window. “and also the perks of having a pharmaceutical license,” a hefty laugh left his mouth, “took some convincing though.” 

“huh,” y/n squatted down, inspecting a box that was on the floor, “i guess that makes sense.”

“just put what you need in a box and take it out. i’ll just say you’re helping me take it back.” changsik smiled, watching y/n nod and do so.

after a few minutes, y/n finished and announced he was ready to check out. changsik’s eyes met one of the cctv cameras before settling on y/n. 

“alright, let’s go check out.” 

as they walked toward the front, they reached the hallway that led to the exit. just as y/n was going to walk past, toward the checkout counter, a hand forcefully grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him back. he looked behind him, in a startled manner, thinking changsik had just forgotten something. however, a deeper fear struck when changsik’s hand moved to clench at the back of his collar. 

“don’t make a sound.”

the second the cold blade touched the skin of y/n’s neck, the surgeon knew to stay quiet. there was a burning in his throat as he struggled to swallow, scared to trigger any abrupt movement. his frantic mind jumbled about, words of scolding placed toward himself and the situation while trying to get a grip. he thought of using the in-ear to alert jongho, but it would risk exposure of the communication device: in any case… he’d be dead by then.

“what is taking him so long?” jongho grunted, tapping his foot in impatience. it’d already been about 10 minutes since y/n entered the store—it shouldn’t take that long for a surgieron to find equipment that’s of medicinal standard!

tapping his in-ear and calling out the doctor’s name, he got no response. placing his face mask on, he rushed into the store, beckoning the cashier. “have you seen a man, about 6’3” with h/c hair?”

the cashier stared at him with a shocked look, “yes, but he went back toward the restrooms. is he dangerous?”

jongho shook his head before running toward the back of the store. he shoved against the restroom door, shouting out the older’s name as he threw open each stall door. finally admitting the fact that the older had disappeared, he tapped his in-ear once more, calling out for anyone.

“jongho, what’s going on?” hongjoong had intercepted the connection, hearing jongho’s worried voice.

the bodyguard had no time to register the primal fear that would settle itself in his bones once faced with the leader, “it’s y/n, hyung. he ran away.” 

jongho returned to the headquarters after scoping out the area once more and had just entered through the front door when he was met with the sight of the whole group. 

hongjoong was staring at him with his jaw clenched and an almost empty whiskey glass settled in his lax hand. jongho had never seen a look so severe in hongjoong’s eyes—he’d never messed up this bad. and apparently, the leader wasn’t the only one emotionally affected by his mistake, because before hongjoong could even physically express his own anger, san had snatched the glass from his hand and launched it at jongho, missing his head by less than an inch.

everyone was shocked at his silent outburst, san even going as far to ignore the immense pain in his abdomen and on his shoulder, but hongjoong simply sent the younger a look, causing him to cower back in the slightest. jongho, however, was enraged at what had just happened. what gave san, who had no superiority over him, the right to do that?

“what the fuck was that?” he had stormed over to the boy, grabbing his shirt with both fists. san didn’t back down, sticking his jaw out toward the youngest.

“how could you lose y/n?”

“i was told no matter what to avoid cameras, so i stayed outside! i didn’t exactly think the fucker would have the balls to run away!” 

everyone watched the two, eyeing when to step in and pull them apart. but hongjoong let them run their mouths. the longer someone talks, the more something is revealed. what he was looking to be revealed, he didn’t know; but something would come up.

san pushed back against jongho, “y/n hyung wouldn’t run away. he’d never do that!” 

‘oh,’ hongjoong perked in interest.

the younger scoffed, “what makes you so sure?”

san’s next words came as a bit of a shock, leaving the others with silent questions, “he promised he’d come back.”

bingo!

an awkward silence filled the room as they all stared, speechless at how hopelessly fond their brother had become for their hostage. as much as some of them hated to admit it, y/n was only a hostage to them at the end of the day. and for san to fall into a reversal stockholm syndrome of sorts was nothing short of  a disappointment. however, that couldn’t be the main focus, y/n was missing and they didn’t know how strong his resolve would be in the event of torturing.

“run us back on what happened, will you?” hongjoong told jongho, trying to get a clear picture on what went down because the first thing they needed to know was why y/n was taken, much less, who took him. was it by the same person who’d been running their mouths in the streets? 

and right in the middle of his explanation, an alarm went off on yeosang’s phone; it was a message. the others kept talking, figuring yeosang could handle whatever message he’d received. 

it was when he promptly stood up that all attention had been placed on him. 

“it’s him! it’s dongwoo!”

a soft whimper sounded as y/n was thrown to the ground, hands bound and eyes blinded by some piece of cloth.

“boss,” y/n’s kidnapper spoke in a submissive wave, causing y/n to assume the guy had straightened his spine and was saluting him in some way.

a moment later, a gruff voice broke through the eerie silence in the room, “and who is this?” his voice wasn’t angered or bewildered at all, and that’s what scared y/n. he sounded intrigued; like even he wasn’t expecting to be a part of this situation.

“someone with connections to ateez— saw that bodyguard walking around with him.” 

the other man hummed, “the bodyguard didn’t follow you, did he?”

“no, no. i found them by the pharmacy; i know the area pretty well because i do the runs for sowon— i knew the camera blindspots!” his abductor seemed to be a bit on the simpler side when it came to this “boss” of his, y/n concluded. this was a completely different personality than when he was being abducted at the scene…

“good job. and you know what, changsik-ah,” his voice seemed to be getting more intrigued, y/n’s heart beating even faster in response, “since you bought in such a valuable hostage, i’ll let you have the honors of obtaining information from him.”

y/n felt the air beside him shift, changsik bowing a full 90 degrees at his boss’s blessing, “thank you!”

a sickeningly hearty laugh resonated and the creaking of a chair sounded before the boss’s next words seemed to be the final straw for y/n’s pounding heart.

“i want him alive.” 

“he better be alive,” san growled at jongho.

“we might get to him alive if you two would quit bickering. we’re wasting time because of you two, so shut it and sit down!” hongjoong had had enough of the two. he knew it was a sensitive time for san and jongho, different reasons for both, of course, but they would only get nowhere if they weren’t level-headed.

the two boys bowed their heads at their leader, san still sending a side-eyed glare at the younger before sitting down in his chair. 

it’d been two days since y/n was kidnapped and they still hadn’t been able to come up with a plan to get y/n back. 

wooyoung tried to trace where the text message came from within the first minute it was received, but surprise, surprise! it was a burner phone— so back to square one; checking all of the cctv footage in the area and trying to spot a suspect that wasn’t even visible from the first frame. 

the cameras in the pharmacy showed only y/n, the pharmacist, clerk, and four other customers. of those four, only one person never entered through the front door. and within those 48 hours, he’d managed to single out a vehicle that had arrived in the frame of one of the street cams showing the alleyway behind the pharmacy, and left the same way not even 5 minutes later. it was a suspicious vehicle too; white van, no windows in the back, and paper license plates. the paper plates hinted that they were most likely changed recently or are changed frequently.

and so after hours of having to witness his best friend be so uncharacteristically frantic and down, wooyoung, unfortunately, decided to do what he thought was smartest—save y/n himself to make his best friend happy again.

his intentions may have been well, but in stories like these, doesn’t something always go wrong?

“help me set the table guys,” seonghwa cleared his throat, hand on his hip as he stirred the soup on the stove. the steam from the boiling liquid sent another cloud to his tired face, a sheen of sweat and condensation forming.

“i really don’t understand why we are acting like we have the time to set a table and eat home cooked meals when we don’t!” san exasperated, pacing around the dining room. 

mingi gave a sympathetic smile, patting him on the back before going to help seonghwa. 

while mingi was more on the understanding side of san’s worries, jongho disagreed, “how exactly do you expect us to find him if we don’t take care of ourselves?”

“all i’m saying is food and sleep shouldn’t be this consistently on your minds when we’re all in this situation!”

jongho scoffed, finding the utmost absurdities in san’s words, “why are you acting like he’s so important? he doesn’t know anything about us or our weaknesses— for fuck’s sake, it’s not like we can’t just get another doc—”

a fist had flown toward jongho’s cheek, cutting off his words, before san’s thrashing body was being pulled back by mingi and yeosang.

“go to hell choi jongho!” san screamed, trying to force his way through the barrier the two had made with their bodies. the boy could feel his stitches tearing as he fought, but he didn’t care. jongho had been a bitch since the very first moment y/n was around, and for what reason?

“cut it out, san!” yeosang hollered, voice brute as he pushed against the boy.

“no, let me at him. he wants to keep being a little shit, i’ll show him shitty!”

“stop it! you haven’t even noticed, have you?”

san didn’t stop trying to break the barrier, focusing on getting to jongho and the other’s words, “notice what?”

“wooyoung’s missing,” yeosang began, san whipping his head toward him and trying to disagree, but yeosang was having none of it, “and you haven’t done anything but antagonize everyone here for not doing their jobs at your pace!”

“oh, excuse me for trying to be as quick as possible in finding him!”

“yeah, and who ever said quick was the efficient route to go? we’re dealing with people we know nothing about, but they seem to know a little too much about us, no? so stop getting on everyone’s asses and—”

“shut the hell up! please!” seonghwa had slammed his hands down on the table, screaming at the top of his lungs. every person in the room had immediately gone silent, words left on the tips of their tongues in a desperate attempt to fly about.

“you’re all going to shut it, sit down, and eat this meal like the civilized people we are and come up with a plan to get y/n back as safely as possible,” he gave a quick glare at everyone, blowing a puff of air at the lock of hair that had settled over his eyelids.

“am i clear?”

"yes, sir."

[katsukavi]

"OH SHIT!" part 2

"I WANT AN ABORTION." Sung Jin-Woo said abruptly, tapping his foot up and down from the agitation. "I'm afraid that's not possible. The baby is far too healthy and because of the amount of health potions you drank, it will be almost indestructible by our means. It even accelerated its growth.."

Sung Jin-Woo didn't think that far into it that night. He gave the baby's father an icy glare and took out his dagger from his inventory. "You can't abort it by your means huh..." he locked (M/n)'s hand onto the hilt and pointed it at his stomach.

"(M/n)! Stab me!"

"HELL NO!"

"Why not? We're already at the hospital, so you could just rush me to the emergency room when I start bleeding," Jin-Woo explained, but that still didn't make a drop of sense to (L/n) (M/n). "NOT IN A MILLION YEARS WILL I STAB YOU!"

"Fine. I'll stab myself."

"No!"

The doctor's face paled at the S-Rank hunter's lack of care for his unborn baby's life—even attempting to stab himself. Luckily, (L/n) (M/n) was there to stop him before the blade could touch his skin.

"Jin-Woo! Come on, you could just hold on to it until you give birth. We could set it up for adoption later.."

"I don't have time to wait 5 months. I could be leveling up using that time."

Scratch that. (L/n) (M/n) was also a horrible parent-to-be. The doctor forced a smile, wondering if all S-Rank Hunters were like this. He cleared his throat and stared back at them.

"How did you even conceive this child?"

"I have no idea. I drank too much. Hey, aren't you immune to alcohol?" (M/n) nudged Jin-Woo's shoulder, since he was the one that wanted to play video games all night. "I don't know. I can't remember much either. There was this scent.."

"I see. It must've been a heat."

"No? I wouldn't have left the house if that were the case."

"Then..." The doctor's eyes set on to (L/n) (M/n), making him feel a cold sweat. The man with red eyes smiled awkwardly, blinking repeatedly at the doctor. "Why are you looking at me?"

"It's incredibly rare but I assume you went through a rut, Sir. So I understand how you may perceive this as unbelievable since this situation is one in a billion or even more so." The doctor scratched the back of his head, trying to consider the rarity of the situation.

It was even more impossible if he considered the fact that male alpha and omegas were less likely to have a baby, then they were both S-Rank Hunters, both with their respective systems and (L/n) (M/n) had suffered from a rut that only one in five alphas experience.

[The Orion System is extremely happy!]

[☆*:.｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆]

[The Orion System is wondering if it would be a girl or a boy??]

[The System is rejoicing for your offspring.]

"I hope it becomes a miscarriage. I'm too busy for this," Sung Jin-Woo said, glaring at his slightly bloated stomach. "Since you are a male omega, there is a 78% chance it would be a miscarriage if you're constantly stressed and you didn't receive professional help from us.."

"Good. I'm already stressed from this situation."

[The Orion System is ignoring your wife's statement.]

[Yay! Baby! ＼＼\\٩( ^ω^ )و //／／]

'He's not my wife, you stupid system. We're friends at best,' (M/n) thought at his system. He and Jin-Woo left the hospital with conflicted thoughts. (M/n) wasn't as extreme as Jin-Woo to forcibly kill it, but he was wondering what he should do next.

That's right. They were hunters. They didn't have time to raise a baby when they could be saving lives through dungeons. It's a simple choice of one life for one hundred.

[The Orion System is rejoicing for you.]

[The Orion System has contacted (totally didn't take over wink wink) the Player System for the child's sake. (*'ω｀*)]

[The Player System has agreed!! ٩( ᐛ )و yay! yay!]

'What are you celebrating for? Stupid Orion..' (M/n)'s mood turned sour, looking away from his system. Jin-Woo held his phone and pressed Jin-Ho's contact, making (M/n)'s eyebrow twitch. "Oi, what are you doing?"

"I'm going to contact Jin-Ho. He's the Vice Guild Master of Ah-Jin so he has to understand our circumstances."

"What? You know how weird that kid's imagination is. What if he thinks something weird?"

"I'll blame you for that then." Jin-Woo shrugged, his phone ringing for a few seconds before Yoo Jin-Ho picked up. "Hello Hyung-nim. Are you doing okay now?" Jin-Ho's voice made Jin-Woo smile, responding quickly.

"Yeah. I just visited the hospital."

"Ohh. Is (M/n) Hyung with you?"

"Yeah, he's right beside me. Turns out I have to lessen my work hours."

"I understand. You are the Guild Master, Hyung-nim. Everything is up to you. But why do you need to?"

"I'm pregnant."

Yoo Jin-Ho choked on his saliva, falling into a coughing fit as he doubted his ears. "Excuse me? What?"

"You didn't hear? I'm pregnant?"

"THAT'S BAD HYUNG-NIM! YOU NEED A FULL VACATION, NOT REDUCING YOUR HOURS!" The beta shouted, making everyone else in the office stare at him. What?! His Hyung-nim was pregnant? So he had a secret lover this entire time, and he didn't know?

"Then, could you decrease (M/n)'s work hours?"

"Yeah, sure. Why him though?"

(L/n) (M/n) hid his face in his hands, feeling so embarrassed that Jin-Woo just admitted that out loud. His own system was bombarding him with weird messages as well, it was creepy.

[There's no need to be embarrassed, Predator-nim~]

[( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). We all know what you did~~]

"He's the father of my child."

Jin-Ho choked yet again, throwing his fist at his desk as he fell silent. So (L/n) (M/n) and Sung Jin-Woo had been in that kind of relationship the entire time? Sure, he didn't know a lot about Sung Jin-Woo but even (L/n) (M/n)?

Is that the reason he joined Ah-Jin? So he could see his lover?

Then all those times they left together..

"Jin-Ho? Are you still there?"

"...If you need any help, you can call me Hyung-nim."

'Oh my God, so they were doing that so many times Hyung-nim got pregnant?!' Yoo Jin-Ho's face flushed as his imagination ran wild, smashing his forehead on his desk to cleanse his mind. 'I'M SO DENSE! I SHOULD'VE REMINDED THEM TO USE PROTECTION!'

"Yoo Jin-Ho-nim.. Is anything wrong with the Guild Master?"

"Ah nothing, he's just on maternity leave."

"What?"

"Huh, he hung up. He must've been shocked.." Jin-Woo said, looking up blankly as (L/n) (M/n) gritted his teeth. His face was red, mostly out of embarrassment than out of anger. "SHOCKED MY ASS! OF COURSE HE'D BE SHOCKED! AND WHY DID YOU TELL HIM IT WAS ME?"

"What else should I tell him? He politely asked who was the father."

[The Orion System agrees with your wife.]

[Calm down, host!! ＼＼\٩(๑'^'๑)۶//／／]

(L/n) (M/n) took a deep breath, rubbing his temples to soothe himself. "Okay, let's just call it a day and go home and sleep." (M/n) felt like it had sucked his life out of him, so he just wanted to sleep.

"I'll see you then."

Sung Jin-Ah was feeling suspicious for the past two weeks, noticing that her older brother's movements have become strange. At first she thought he got sick, but that would be strange for a sickness to last weeks, especially since he's an S-Rank Hunter.

"Hey, I ordered pizza. You feeling okay, bro?"

"Yeah. I visited the hospital earlier," Jin-Woo said, plopping down on the couch beside her. "Where's Mom?" he asked, grabbing a slice of pizza from the box. "She went out to get something. So she said she wouldn't be able to cook tonight," Jin-Ah answered him.

As soon as Jin-Woo took a bite from his pizza, his face turned sour. He swallowed it and bitterly gulped a glass of water. "Actually, I don't want any."

"Huh? What do you mean you don't want any? You practically inhale this stuff!"

"It doesn't taste good."

"It tastes just fine, get over here!"

Sung Jin-Woo completely ignored his beta sister and holed up in his room. Confusion crossed her face as she gobbled up a slice of pizza. 'Something weird is definitely going on with him.. He's sus...'

The next morning, Jin-Woo got up early to do his daily regimen. But his fatigue had raised twice the number it had before. He felt annoyed from it and tried even harder, exhausting himself in the process.

'I haven't even done half yet?'

[[The Player System has cancelled the 'Daily Quest: Preparation to be Powerful'.]]

[[The Orion System has requested it to be changed to 'Daily Quest: Meet up with your Husband<3']]

Sung Jin-Woo wanted to middle finger the systems and ignored the new Daily Quest, thinking it was an awful prank from Orion. (That Constellation liked to bug them a lot.) So he continued to do the old Daily Quest, but he unfortunately got sent to the Penalty Zone all the same.

["Since you lovers don't wanna meet up. I have no choice but to force you! Hmph!! ヽ('⌒'メ)ノ"]

"I— Jin-Woo?!" (L/n) (M/n) hollered, his eyes setting on his partner on top of a floating marble platform. Jin-Woo was behind a translucent wall, safely protected in a small room filled with comfortable pillows, blankets and cute stuffed animals. Just in front of him was a coffee table with a full set of snacks one could crave for.

[[You can sit back and watch the show~ Daddy is going to go on a little run!! ＼(٥⁀▽⁀ )／]]

FWOOSHHH!!

On (M/n)'s side of the wall was a scorching, fiery desert, his shoes sinking in white sand as an enormous monster rose from the ground. The gigantic lizard roared, sending a breath of flames towards (L/n) (M/n) as he tried to run for his life. He screamed and cursed at the system while Jin-Woo watched from above like his Alpha was a gladiator.

"FUCK! WHAT THE HELL IS THIS THING?!"

"ORION! WHY THE HECK IS HE BEING CHASED BY LIZARDS?!?" Jin-Woo punched the orange wall, making it glitch for a few seconds before spitting his fist back inside the enclosed room. He could only look down at (M/n) with worry, slamming into the wall to attempt an escape to go help him.

[[HEY!! Don't help that idiot! He's a loser who doesn't even bother to look after his pregnant wife! (҂' ﾛ ')]]

[[You know what! Since he's so bad, let's go torture him more! Yay! Yay!!]]

Three more lizards surfaced from the sand, breathing fire like dragons. (M/n)'s face paled in shock as he retrieved his rapier from his inventory. A fifth lizard rose from where he stood, making him tumble down on the sand as it bellowed a menacing tune.

"UGH.. FIVE OF THESE THINGS?!" (M/n) shouted, burning his palms from the hot sand as he tried to get up and away from such a life-threatening situation. Sung Jin-Woo felt more anxiety for (M/n) and banged on the walls.

"DO YOU WANT HIM TO DIE!?"

[[Don't worry~ He won't die. He can handle it! (b ᵔ▽ᵔ)b]]

[[He has to be at least this strong to be a wonderful Daddy of course. ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ]]

"We're not even keeping the baby!" Jin-Woo glared at the cute emoticon on his screen and gave it a middle finger. He took out his dagger from his inventory, slicing open the wall and using the slight gap to escape.

[[Wait! No! If you get hurt, the baby will die! ＼(º □ º l|l)/]]

"Good," Jin-Woo said with a smirk, landing on top of one of the lizard's heads. "Hey, you need a little help?" he shouted after (M/n), riding safely on the monster. It only seemed to be hostile towards (M/n) and not him.

[[NOO! IF IT ATTACKS MOMMY, ALL HOPE IS LOST! ＼(╥ _ ╥ l|l)/]]

"Nah, I got it!" (M/n) responded, sliding under one lizard's feet and stabbing it's heart from underneath. Its skin was thick, but (M/n)'s high strength stat could make up for it. The beast let out a small cry of pain as his blade pierced through like a needle. He soon coated the blade in a reddish orange hued mana, poisoning the lizard internally in just a few seconds.

"Jeez. I was a little panicked. But I'm fine," (M/n)'s skin was harder than steel, like an indestructible material. Just like in the myth of Orion, he was like the indomitable scorpion that the legendary Hunter could not beat.

"I was a little offended, you know."

[Noo!! Predator-nim, I hate you!! ((╬◣﹏◢))]

[Hmph! Hmph! You big IDIOT! ]

"Orion, shut up."

[FINE THEN! I'LL REMOVE ALL OF THESE LIZARDS! ヽ( 'д'*)ノ]

[I'll be nice to you just because wifey's pregnant okay! humph!]

[Go kiss kiss fall in love now! I don't wanna see you be stupid IDIOTS! (҂ òзó )]

The lizards evaporated quickly like Orion made them out of ice in the blistering sun, making Jin-Woo suspended into the air. (M/n) reached out his hands and ran under him, catching him quickly in his arms. Jin-Woo could've landed safely on his feet, he wasn't that fragile..

But in (M/n)'s princess carry, he felt some sense of relief. Jin-Woo hugged him, inhaling a breath of his friend's pheromones. (M/n) really enjoyed wearing Axe Body Spray (a pheromone masking agent in this world) because he always met up with an Alpha female named Cha Hae-In. It was because of that, Jin-Woo didn't notice any of his alpha pheromones.

But with a whiff, he preferred this version. It made him imagine the fragrance of lit scented candles. It was a very specific scent that calmed him down. "Hm, are you okay?" (M/n) asked, making Jin-Woo snap out his momentary trance. What was going with him?

"Yeah, uhm. Were you still sleeping?" Jin-Woo took notice of (M/n)'s disheveled hair and casual set of light blue pajamas. "Oh right, I haven't showered yet.. Fuck. My handsome complexion!" (M/n) said dramatically, looking down to his lovely rapier covered in sand.

As much as he wanted to get it and polish it until it was shiny, he didn't want to drop Jin-Woo yet. It seems like Jin-Woo was the same, wrapping his arms around his neck in a comfortable hug. Yeah, they should hug more often. It was very comfortable.

[Yes!! NOW KISS!! ٩(♡ε♡)۶]

"Ew gross, Orion is back from a tantrum.." (M/n) set Jin-Woo back down, making a look of disgust. Jin-Woo also didn't like the constellation. So he joined (M/n) in spiting it with all the malice he could.

[Ugh, you guys are so mean! (︶︹︶ ||| )]

[It's like you're perfect for each other. (You are btw (^ω~))]

[I'll bring you back home now. (╬ Ò﹏Ó)]

"Oh nice. This is your room?"

"It's a little messy, but don't mind it too much." Jin-Woo scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, not knowing what to do in such a situation. He and (M/n) had teleported back to his house together, convenient for him. But (M/n) was still in his pajamas.

"Damn, I haven't even combed yet. How do you expect me to walk home in this?" (M/n) sighed, fixing his bedhead with one hand as he scratched his stomach with the other. Even though he just went through a terrifying experience, he was still tired and planned to sleep until noon.

"I mean you could run like really really fast. You'd just be a blur to normal people."

"But.. I haven't been to your house before.." (M/n) looked around Jin-Woo's room. Despite him claiming that it was messy, no clothes or wrappers were on the floor and the only thing messy were his blankets. This guy's sense of "messy" was on a whole other level.

(M/n) just leaves his cans of energy drinks, chips and bowls on the floor and leaves the cleaners to go clean it up. His appearance was the only thing that was respectable.

"So I can't navigate on my own. You know."

"You can use Google Maps."

"I don't bring my phone everywhere."

"You don't? I thought you were an addict."

"Your perceptions of me are so warped. What even made you think I was a beta?" (M/n) sighed, glancing over to Jin-Woo's stomach before blushing. He wasn't that different. He thought Jin-Woo was an alpha precisely because he gave off those vibes.

"Ah, it was your Hunter Wikipedia page. I skimmed over it a while ago.."

"My Hunter Wiki what??" (M/n) got confused, watching Jin-Woo take out his cellphone and search something online. He peered over his shoulder, watching him scroll down to the gender option. It actually said [Beta Male].

"That's really stupid. What part of me is beta?"

Sung Jin-Woo looked over to (L/n) (M/n) for a few seconds, his appearance to his language. Yeah.. (M/n) was right. What part of him seemed Beta? (M/n) right then screamed 'I-AM-A- DOMINANT-ALPHA. STAY-5-METERS-AWAY-FROM-ME-BECAUSE-I-WILL-ATTACK-YOU'

Then, he saw his picture on the wiki. Jin-Woo held his phone up and looked to his left and right, comparing the one in person, to the picture. "Now that I've thought of it, this is the first time I've seen you in pajamas."

(L/n) (M/n) was someone that barely swore, kept calm and wore modest clothing. But it looked like stress took over him so much it affected his personality. His mouth was foul with curses.

"Yeah, I mean the last time you saw me, I was naked."

"Oh," Jin-Woo blurted out, his face heating with that in mind. (M/n) quickly shut his mouth and looked away shyly, fixing his hair to seem more like himself. "Now we're in this situation, huh?" (M/n) mumbled, staring down at Jin-Woo's belly. It wasn't noticeable, but it showed a bump if you touched it.

"Do you.. wanna hug?" (M/n) diverted his vision away from Jin-Woo, a light blush on his face. "What made you say that?" Jin-Woo asked calmly, avoiding looking at (M/n). The (h/c)-haired alpha cleared his throat, extending his arms in the air.

"I don't know. You seemed to like it earlier.."

[Definitely you right now: Σ>―(〃°ω°〃)♡→]

[(￢‿￢ )]

Sung Jin-Woo nodded, placing his chin on (M/n)'s shoulder as he wrapped his arms around his torso. The same fragrant pheromone relaxing him enough to close his eyes. He felt safe in those arms, like he was under an unbreakable set of armor. "I feel like I could fall asleep like this.."

(L/n) (M/n) didn't know why his heart was beating so quickly, making his skin feel like they were on fire just from touching this omega. "We should hug more often," he said, rubbing on Jin-Woo's back calmly. It was fine for friends to hug, right?

But could we could even consider them friends when one of them was pregnant?

"Oppa, I think we ran out of dish soap—" Sung Jin-Ah opened the door, letting out an 'Oh' sound as she gazed at her brother. Then, Sung Jin-Woo noticed how odd it was to have (L/n) (M/n) there. "Wait, Jin-Ah! It's not what you think—"

"MOOOMMM!! JIN-WOO HAS A SECRET ALPHA BOYFRIEND!!"

"Sung Jin-Ah!" Jin-Woo yelled, squeezing her cheeks with one hand as she struggled to run away. "I KNEW IT! I KNEW IT SO BAD WHEN I SMELLED ALPHA PHEROMONES ON YOU! IT'S VERY STRONG NOW!!" she screamed and kicked her feet in the air.

"Hold on. I'm not his boyfriend—"

"LET GO OF ME, OPPA! WHY ARE YOU SO STRONG?!"

(M/n)'s voice gradually got weaker as he pursed his lips awkwardly. There was no room to protest in the screaming girl in the room casually being battled to the death by her older brother. He just gave up.

It was that quick giving up that people thought he was a beta.

"Oh! You finally brought home your boyfriend. That's great," Park Kyung-He said as she stood on the doorframe. She smiled at (M/n), then stared at his sleepwear. "Jin-Woo! You even let him stay without telling us?"

"I didn't—"

"Shush! I know it could be embarrassing to reveal your first love. Come on, dear. What's your name?" she looked over to (M/n), waving her hand to call him over. "It's (L/n) (M/n), Maam.. Nice to meet you," he said shyly, not even refuting her words at all.

His cute demeanor made Kyung-He fall in love with him already. What a good future son-in-law. No wonder Jin-Woo liked him.

"Ah, come here now (M/n). I'll cook you breakfast too."

"If you don't mind me intruding. Thank you.." (M/n) said, following Kyung-He like he was an imprinted chick. "I'll be there too!" Jin-Ah said, wrestling with Jin-Woo's arm. "Let me go, you jerk! I wanna see what your boyfriend is like!"

"I already told you. He's not my boyfriend."

"Why are you even saying that at this point?" Jin-Ah made a face at him and slipped through his grasp, running out of his room in fear that he would catch her again. "I caught you red-handed! Hehe!!"

[[(¬‿¬ ) hehe..]]

"Orion.. What have you done to my system?" Jin-Woo grumbled, walking out of his room with a long sigh. He could explain to them later that he and (M/n) were just friends. But sadly, he would never get the opportunity to.

"So, when did you and Jin-Woo meet? Was it nice?"

"Oh! I met him at work. He was my partner for a while. And you know, when I saw him, he was so scary I thought he was an alpha!" (M/n) was suddenly very talkative, amusing the curious Kyung-He and Jin-Ah.

"Ohh.. So how did you fall in love?"

"We didn't!" Jin-Woo butted in, receiving sympathetic eyes from his family. "Oh, so it was Jin-Woo who fell first. I see," Kyung-He assumed. He asked (M/n) how he did, but it was her son that answered. Their romance was very cute.

"No.. That's not.."

"Wow, I didn't think Oppa would be the one to confess. He's being super shy about it right now. How could he even proclaim his love now..?" Jin-Ah exclaimed in shock, looking over to (L/n) (M/n). He did provide the juicy details she wanted in a romance novel. Jin-Ah approve!

But even though he was the one who confessed, why is he suddenly saying they weren't together? Was her Oppa too shy about it and only stayed sweet in front of his one true love? Isn't that.. too cute?!

"Huh? What are you all talking about? Jin-Woo didn't confess to me?"

Sung Jin-Ah's world was then flipped upside down. It all made sense. Jin-Woo was denser than the Earth itself. If (M/n) was he one who asked him out, it would make even more sense! Their trope was... Shy Omega x Outgoing Alpha! Jin-Ah prayed internally to her lord and savior, KatsuKavi. She was in a romance novel and she could watch the protagonists.

"Oppa, you're no fair! How did you get this lucky with KatsuKavi's pairing rituals?!"

"Who?!"

"The author!"

(A/N: ignore the fourth wall. There is no such thing.)

"Ah, we got too distracted! (M/n) could you clear the table?" Park Kyung-He stood up, moving towards the sink. (M/n) nodded obediently and helped her wash the dishes. Jin-Woo was dumbfounded at his goody good behavior.

He didn't even clean up at his own house. What was he doing being so good with his mother and sister?

"You're a good kid, (M/n). I approve of you."

"Thank you," (M/n) said, chatting a little bit with Kyung-He until he could call her 'Mom'. Sung Jin-Woo gritted his teeth as he watched (L/n) (M/n) be the new favorite.

"Oppa, (M/n) is so good to us. How dare you hog him for yourself," Jin-Ah glared at him from across the room, getting an angry look from Jin-Woo. "Wow, so possessive.." she murmured to herself, skipping happily to her new brother-in-law.

Possessive? No, Jin-Woo wasn't being possessive. He must've just been jealous (L/n) (M/n) was getting all the attention. But when did Jin-Woo start caring about being the center of attention?

He looked over to his best friend, biting his lip to ignore the tight feeling in his chest. He wanted to scream 'look at me!', but he was so dense he didn't know who he wanted to look at him.

"Ah, that's Jin-Woo?! He looks totally different!" (M/n) exclaimed, looking through Jin-Ah's older photos of Jin-Woo. He did look like an omega before, but he drastically changed after becoming a S-Rank Hunter. It was like he was a totally different person.

"Yeah, he used to be so cute and sunny. Now look at him! He's growling at me for taking you away from him."

"I am not growling at you!" Jin-Woo argued, knitting his eyebrows together. He didn't know why, but he felt so annoyed being so far away from Jin-Ah and (M/n). Normally, he wouldn't care but for some weird reason, he didn't like being treated like air.

(L/n) (M/n) soon changed out of his sleepwear and took a nice shower. He didn't wear any pheromone masking agent, so everyone could smell his masculine pheromones leaking out. As much as Jin-Woo liked it, he felt a little annoyed that his 'friend' was being used as incense.

"Mom, did you let him wear dad's clothes?"

"Mhm. It wasn't being used anyway," Kyung-He answered Jin-Woo. She put her hands together, making a sad smile as he looked over to (M/n). "I think it should go to good use, you think?"

"Yeah."

"He suits it well, right?"

"Yeah."

"He's more handsome now, isn't he?"

"I agree."

Sung Jin-Woo crossed his arms over his stomach. (L/n) (M/n) was very attractive in his eyes and a fuzzy feeling would come when thinking of him. "I can tell you really love him. So don't let him go." Kyung-He coaxed Jin-Woo. His mind was blank, only focusing on (M/n).

"Yeah."

"Oi, Jin-Woo! Why did you smile so weirdly in this photo!"

'Ah, I hate him so much,' Jin-Woo thought as (M/n) made fun of him. "Don't look at those!" he marched over, snatching the photo album from his hands while Jin-Ah and (M/n) laughed on the floor.

"Pfft! I don't want our child to look like that!"

"It'll be even worse if it looked like you!"

"I'm a handsome bastard and you know that!"

"I didn't know you wanted children. I hope they look beautiful in the future," Jin-Ah's eyes sparkled at the thought of cute children saying 'Aunt' at her. She wanted to squeeze their chubby cheeks immediately.

"Wait five months, then you decide if the baby will look good."

"Five months? So you're getting married in five months?"

"What? No, I mean Jin-Woo is giving birth in five months." (M/n)'s laughter soon ceased into silence as Jin-Woo walked closer to him menacingly. He then understood why (M/n) didn't want him to tell Jin-Ho about his circumstances. It was so embarrassing for them to know. Now they're never going to let him give it up.

In front of his family, his face became tomato red with both anger and embarrassment as he crouched down to strangle (L/n) (M/n). "Why did you tell them, you dumbass?!"

"Eh?? I thought they already knew from how you told Jin-Ho from the moment we left the hospital."

"Shut up." Jin-Woo balled his fist and set it in the air, his other hand on (M/n)'s chest to prevent him from moving. "Wait, wait! Don't actually—"

"Oppa, you're pregnant?" Sung Jin-Ah's shock had multiplied by 900, so did her happiness. "MOM! IM GOING TO BE AN AUNT! WOOHOO!" She stood up from her place and fetched her phone with a massive smile. She was going to brag to all her friends all about it, wasn't she?

"This is a pleasant surprise. Jin-Woo! You don't tell us about anything going on your life." Kyung-He also smiled, half scolding Jin-Woo. He was already 24, so he could decide as an adult. She had no problem with it. "First, you're a hunter, then your secret fiancee, now your child? Hoo, you.."

Wait, why did secret alpha boyfriend evolve into fiancee? They weren't getting married after the birth of the child!

(M/n)'s ears were about to bleed. He forgot about it! But because of their excessive happiness, he couldn't bring himself to disagree with what they were saying in fear they'd be disappointed. So he could only regrettably nod.

[Yay! Yay! Baby!!]

[We're getting a little hunter!! (☆ω☆)]

Jin-Woo's complexion became pale blue. They were doomed.

[spacedikut]

lockdown lovers ; spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid (criminal minds) x f!reader

summary: lockdown!au. spencer goes from expecting his days to be filled with books, books and more books to books, an asshole cat, and a cute anonymous neighbour. 4857 words

a/n: i was so excited about this and stayed up writing it so i hope you like it too :)

masterlist

It’s three days into lockdown when Spencer notices the cat.

It’s a Maine Coon, he recognises instantly, but there’s this distinctive… dead look in it’s eyes. The body is huge – so fluffy it looks like the cat has a mane, ears invariably up straight and large enough that the eyes look beady in comparison. A mixture of white and grey throughout, the cat spends its days lounging across the windowsill of the apartment in the building next to Spencer’s.

He’s fascinated. How can a cat be so big, so ugly, yet so lovely?

He has to know more.

If he was anyone else, he’d argue the obsession is the fruit of going stir-crazy in his apartment. A lack of seeing his friends combined with having to work cases from home would be the perfect justification for Spencer to move his work station to the window facing the cat.

But this is Spencer. He’s happy being stuck home. He just likes the look of the cat.

He spends a good twenty minutes rifling through his stationary to find a piece of paper and the appropriate pen to jot a note for the cat owner. He thinks the owner must be stuck home, too, so if he sticks the note to his window and waits a day, he could know the cat’s name within twenty four hours.

They’ve had plenty of staring contests. Spencer should know his rival’s name.

So he does. He takes his time writing out the words “I like your cat. Do they have a name?” clearly on the paper, then spends a good five minutes deciding where on the window to stick the message.

He decides on the upper left corner. You won’t miss it.

The cat blinks sleepily at him as they watch Spencer tape the question up.

There’s an answer within three hours.

Spencer is too excited to be embarrassed at how enthused he was when he noticed the response.

Or when he saw the name.

Hi there! His name is Mr Darcy :) He’s a dick x

Spencer can’t help but profile the writing, the syntax, the grammar.

The first thing he notices is there’s a feminine lilt to the way you write – you’re a woman, most likely. The writing is slightly messy, indicating high intelligence, and the use of a smiley face and a kiss makes him think you’re younger in age. If you live alone, which you must because you live in a one bedroom apartment, he can safely guess you’re around his age.

And Mr Darcy… you’re a bookworm. At least for romance and the classics.

Spencer likes Mr Darcy. He has so many questions, suddenly, like how is Mr Darcy a dick and how old is he and why does he never seem to move from his position by the window and what is your name and who are you and do you happen to read a lot of books? Like Ray Bradbury? Please say yes.

He shocks himself. Maybe this quarantine is getting to him more than he realises. He hasn’t felt this excited since Maeve.

He hasn’t been this intrigued since Maeve. And the circumstances are similar, he realises.

No. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Spence.

He worries himself into a spiral when he begins thinking about how to reply. As if she can hear his whining, Penelope calls him.

They’ve made it a habit to call one another a lot. She recently taught him how to use his webcam and has been encouraging him to write more on his computer, rather than by hand.

“Good afternoon, my favourite Doctor.” She sings. He hears some shuffling in the background and can tell she’s baking.

“I need your help with something.” He cuts straight to the chase.

Her interest is piqued, “Oh? I am all ears.”

“Remember the cat I mentioned?”

“The ugly-but-beautiful majestic beast that, if you believed in reincarnation, would’ve been a high class gentleman in his past life? Yes. I think about him every day.”

“His name’s Mr Darcy.”

She lets out a screech, a mixture of a groan and moan that is filled with pure glee. “Of course he’s called Mr Darcy! Tell me everything. How do you know?”

He’s clearly impressed with himself when he says, “I asked.”

“Whoa.” Penelope freezes in her kitchen. “Are you, Doctor Germaphobe, breaking the lockdown rules?”

Spencer feels insulted. “No! Never! I stuck a note to my window, like in that viral tweet you sent me.”

She chuckles, “Well, I already told you I could’ve told you everything about Mr Darcy and the owner if you wanted me to. I am incredible.”

“I appreciate the gesture, Garcia-“

“But it’s morally wrong. Yeah, yeah, heard it all before. What have you said back?”

“That’s what I need your help with.”

Garcia is only a little surprised he’s asking her and not Derek. But, then, as much as she loves Derek, he’s a bit too.. much for someone like Spencer when it comes to love. Spencer approaches people gently, hesitantly, often giving the impression he doesn’t even want to be there.

Derek can have anyone on their knees within minutes.

Different tactics, that’s all.

“Alright, pretty boy. How long have you been talking? Purely through window messages? What else has been said?”

“Well,” He begins, clearing his throat, making eye contact with Mr Darcy, “We’ve only spoken once. When I asked for Mr Darcy’s name. You know, studies have shown that animals can form lifelong friendships with other animals, even if they’re not from the same species.”

“Spencer.”

“Most research has focused on chimpanzees, baboons, horses, hyenas, elephants, bats, and dolphins - but there’s no reason to think that friendship is exclusive to these species.”

“Spencer!”

“What?”

“You’ve spoken to them once?”

“Her. Spoken to her once. And it wasn’t speaking, it was writing.”

There’s a long sigh down the phone. “First of all, how do you know the owner’s a girl?”

There’s movement in Mr Darcy’s apartment. Spencer stares. “The way she writes.”

“Uhuh,” Spencer can hear her stirring something through the phone, “And what was the last thing said?”

Spencer’s eyes narrow – is that a person? Is that the owner? Is that her? Oh my god.

“Spencer? You still there?” Garcia looks to her laptop, checking the call is still connected.

“Yeah, I’m here. Sorry. The last thing she said was his name is Mr Darcy and he’s a dick.”

“Oh,” Garcia smirks, “It’s sexy hearing you say dick.”

In normal circumstances, Spencer would register her comment and give a very distinct huh, but he’s distracted.

He sees Mr Darcy meow. A hand appears, petite, with fingernails painted yellow that have smiley faces on them. She brushes Mr Darcy’s fur back, pulling so the skin around his eyes tugs up high and he looks stupid. He seems to like it, though.

She must like smileys, he thinks.

Mr Darcy stands and stretches. He’s alarmingly long.

It’s silent on Garcia’s end, where she looks confused at the sudden silence. She checks again that the call is still connected.

“Spence?”

“Still here. Sorry. I thought I saw her.”

“Oooo,” She’s all giddy, “What does she look like? Is she pretty?”

“I couldn’t see her properly. I can tell she’s too cool for me already. This was stupid.” He sighs, “Forget I said anything. I’ll take knowing Mr Darcy’s name and move on with my life.”

Spencer moves to hang up, but is interrupted by a loud “No!” being shouted at him by Garcia.

“No, Spencer! No! You write something back to her right now and you form a friendship with someone that isn’t one of your colleagues. I love you with my whole heart, and you know that, but it would be good for you to expand your social circle!” She grins and bites her tongue between her teeth, “Aaaand.. this could be the start of a quarantine romance. God, I miss dating.”

At the mention of romance, Spencer visibly flinches. “I’ll see what I can do. I gotta go, Garcia, thanks for calling.”

“Love you. Please marry her so Mr Darcy can be the ring bearer.”

And she hangs up. He’s left contemplating whether he should respond, and what he should respond, as he watches the empty space where Mr Darcy is absent.

It must be dinner time for him.

+++

I’m curious as to how someone named Mr Darcy can be a dick.

That’s a good response, right?

Right?

It lets you know he gets the reference, he knows who Mr Darcy is named after, and leads you to continue the conversation. It’s perfect.

It’s taken him nearly two hours to come up with it. He feels exhausted.

He sticks it on the window, where Mr Darcy has returned to, and huffs out a breath.

He reminds himself to be calm and cool. This is simply a way to pass the time during quarantine, there’s no need to put too much pressure on himself to think it’s anything more or to put more effort than is necessary (he says, after spending two hours formulating a response).

Calm and cool. Cool and calm. Neither are words Spencer would ever use to describe himself.

Spencer stays up until nearly 1am reading. Just before he sleeps, he walks to the kitchen to get some water, and can’t resist checking to see if you’ve responded.

You have. He ignores the way his heart speeds up.

He used to share the windowsill with my other cat and a bunch of plants. Now he bites anything that attempts to move near him. He also likes to vomit on my pillow. My single pillow.

Spencer chuckles as he reads it. He remembers when the window was full of plants, and how one day they all just… disappeared. He assumed the person moved out, but now it’s funny to think that you had to move them all because Mr Darcy demanded he own that space.

He doesn’t recall ever seeing another cat.

Well, now he has to respond. He needs to know about the other cat!

He imagines Derek coming to him in an apparition, like some sort of angel, and saying, calm and cool, kid. Calm and cool.

Spencer decides he’ll reply in the morning. Cause he’s calm and cool, and totally doesn’t want to know anything and everything about you and the two cats you live with.

+++

The messages continue for days. Spencer learns a lot, despite his “attempts” to not profile you (“attempts” as in there was really no attempt).

He learns you were given Mr Darcy by a friend, he’s two years old, and your other cat is the recently adopted, affectionately named Stupid Sally. She’s a ginger cat, estimated to be at least four years old, and you refuse to believe there’s anything going on in that tiny head of hers.

Spencer catches a glimpse of Sally a couple of days after he learns her name. She jumps up beside Mr Darcy, bonks her head on the window, then is whacked by Mr Darcy and falls from the windowsill. Sally doesn’t make another attempt.

He still hasn’t seen you, though. The longer he talks to you, the more he wants Garcia to send him everything she can find on you.

But he has restraint. And fear.

He wants to know more, wants to learn more about the anonymous girl in the opposite building. He doesn’t even know your name, and he assumes you don’t know his, and he’s not entirely sure what number apartment you live in.

He considers asking to convert your conversation from post-it notes on windows to hand-written letters, but that reminds Spencer too much of Maeve and he can’t handle that.

Do you know how difficult it is for Spencer Reid, with all his knowledge and facts and ramblings, to limit himself and how much he says?

It’s torture.

The sun is blinding when Spencer pulls his curtain back, eyes navigating to see if there’s a new message waiting.

I haven’t asked, do you have any cats? Any pets? Mr Darcy would be a terrible boyfriend but Sally could use a lover :)

Before he can stop himself, his mind is whirring with the possible implications of your message. Does this mean you want to meet? You want to know about him as much as he wants to know about you? You’re interested?

He needs to call Penelope. He wants to talk to you so badly, learn everything there is to know, but he can’t bring himself to do it. The situation reminds him of Maeve and, although it’s been so long, he’s still mourning. He’s not sure he’s ready.

Turns out he doesn’t need to worry. You’ve got your own plan.

+++

“So,” Your friend sighs, flopping onto the couch, “You got his number? His name? Anything?”

“No,” You pout, “Not even sure he’s a guy.”

“That’s never stopped you before.”

You playfully gasp. “I don’t know what you’re implying, but I am insulted.”

She chuckles. She knows all about your curious neighbour - she’s the one that encouraged you to reply and keep replying. And now she’s the one trying to convince you to form an actual friendship.

“Just put your number on your window.”

“Do you know how dangerous that is?!” You scold, “Anyone could see it!”

“Yeah, but neighbour guy could see it. And text you. And be really cute.”

You can’t help but glance behind you, into your bedroom window, where the infamous window is. Mr Darcy lounges, completely zonked out with the sunshine keeping him warm.

“What’s the worst that can happen? Some random people text you and you, what, block them? That’s it. Easy.”

Life is so easy for extroverts, you think.

You grab your notebook, rip a piece out and jot down your number before you have a change of heart. You’re essentially double messaging through the medium of your window messaging. But who cares?

What have you got to lose?

+++

Spencer stares at your phone number for way too long. Mr Darcy, as if sensing Spencer’s battle, lazily lifts a paw and rests it against the paper, pushing it into the window.

Spencer dials Penelope’s number straight from memory.

“I was beginning to think you’d died, Spencer-“

“Is it a terrible idea to start texting with Mr Darcy’s owner?”

“What?!” She exclaims, “No! No no no no no! That is an incredible idea! Spencer, please tell me you’re texting her!”

Penelope’s excitement gives him a rush of confidence. She’s always so supportive, so encouraging. Penelope is the best.

“I’m staring at her phone number. I just- we know what happened last time..” He trails off, voice meek. He wants to pretend he isn’t constantly thinking about the worst outcome, but he is. He’s scared.

Penelope’s voice is soft down the phone, “Spence. You have nothing to be afraid of, okay? I’m so proud of you for even considering texting her. But if you truly think you’re not ready, maybe you’re not. But remember, this doesn’t have to be anything you don’t want it to. You can keep the conversation to cats and cats only.”

Spencer smiles even though she can’t see him. She’s right. It doesn’t have to be anything and, honestly, it’s likely it won’t be anything – after all, Spencer isn’t exactly confident when it comes to women.

She might also have a boyfriend. A husband. A wife. He doesn’t know.

He realises he’s started thinking way too deep about someone he doesn’t even know the name of.

“Does that silence mean you’re gonna text her?” Penelope questions, suspense and hope clear in her voice.

“Yeah,” He replies, glancing at Mr Darcy, “I am.”

+++

[To: Mr Darcy and Sally’s Owner]: Hello. I’m Spencer.

[From: Mr Darcy and Sally’s Owner] hello??????? do i know a spencer?

Embarrassment flushes through him. What a weird way to introduce yourself, he chastises himself, Great first impression.

[To: Mr Darcy and Sally’s owner]: Sorry. I’m the one that’s been asking about your cats through the window.

[From: Mr Darcy and Sally’s Owner]: really? prove it

He wants to feel insulted that you’re so suspicious, but is simultaneously impressed that you’re so cautious. It makes sense to worry after posting your number for anyone to see.

[To: Mr Darcy and Sally’s Owner]: Of course. I’ll put a note on my window with my number now.

He does just that, shuffling quickly and frantically like he does when his mind is moving a thousand miles a minute during a case. He slaps the note against the window, unable to resist hovering on the off chance he spots you.

His phone buzzes.

[From: Mr Darcy and Sally’s Owner]: oh hi spencer! im Y/N, owner of Mr Darcy and sally :)

He can’t help but chuckle at the sudden change of tone. You take stranger danger seriously, it seems.

Why does he find that so endearing?

He’s getting ahead of himself, again. Calm and cool.

They pick up the conversation from where the last note left off, where you asked Spencer if he has any pets of his own. He finds it much easier to talk to you like this, rambling and all, which you don’t seem to mind. Your texting style is distinctively different to his, making his phone vibrate multiple times as you send each sentence of your message separately. He prefers writing chunks full of information, all with perfect grammar and punctuation.

You teach him what ‘wtf’ means and when he sends a meme to Penelope with that caption she loses her damn mind.

She decides she loves you there and then.

A friendship blossoms. It’s odd, he doesn’t know what you look like and you admit to catching a glimpse of him when he showed you his number through the window, but other than that you have no idea what the other looks like.

You know so much about eachother’s lives, though, and so much about eachother. You know which apartment you both live in, he’s got a whole list of reasons why Mr Darcy is a dick and he kind of agrees, you even know that he’s an FBI agent.

Then it happens.

He discovers what you look like.

He wants to play it off as an accident, he really does, but that would be a complete and utter lie.

The area under the window opposite yours has become his new sanctuary. He spends way too much time there, reading and whatnot, and he tries to pretend that it’s so he can watch Mr Darcy all day every day, but there’s always been a part of him that wants you to walk by. Maybe stop right in the centre of the window, pause, let him get a good look.

That’s exactly what happens.

He’s doing some “light” reading before he moves to his bed, where he will continue to read, and he sees the main light in your bedroom switch on. You always have a light on – you’re scared of the dark, just like him, but the main light catches his attention because Mr Darcy looks back and meows.

Someone’s in the room.

For some reason, he can’t tear his eyes away. It’s not the first time he’s noticed someone flutter around the room, never managing to really show themselves. It could the best friend you told Spencer about, the one that you’ve been stuck living with the past month or so.

But it’s not.

A girl appears, wearing an oversized t-shirt and shorts with still-wet hair. She dangles a cat toy before Mr Darcy, which he swipes at twice, then looks away, uninterested.

She rolls her eyes at that, then starts dancing and mouthing along to a song Spencer doesn’t recognise. Now he can’t stop staring – she’s captivating, whoever she is, as she prances around her room, arms flailing around and serenading a very unimpressed Mr Darcy.

This has to be you, he thinks. He doesn’t know why, but this has to be you.

Your passionate singing dies out. It’s the end of the song. Before the next one can begin, you happen to look up and through the window, straight at Spencer.

And you disappear.

You collapse. You definitely scream a little, dramatically falling to the floor and hiding under the window with your back to the wall.

Holy shit. You think. He’s cute and he saw me singing to my asshole cat.

He must think I’m crazy.

Spencer keeps staring at the now empty space of your window, Mr Darcy having been spooked by your exit.

He thinks he might be in love.

+++

Neither of you know what to say to one another after what transpired.

You’re too embarrassed, Spencer feels a little star-struck, and you’re both speechless.

Neither of you expected the other to be so.. attractive.

Your phone is thrown in your lap. “Do it. Do it now.”

In a daze, you blink up at your friend, “I can’t.”

“Don’t make me threaten you.”

You blink.

“I know where he lives. I will obliterate the lockdown rules to go talk to him and drag him here, then you can deal with this face-to-face.”

Your mouth falls open. “Are you insane?”

She unlocks your phone, opens your conversation with Spencer, and places it in your hand.

“Yes.”

+++

[From: Y/N :)]: did you at least enjoy the performance…..

Spencer’s whole body prickles when he sees you’ve texted him.

Maybe Penelope’s manifesting did work.

[To: Y/N :)]: I did. I didn’t expect our face reveals to be so…

I honestly don’t know what to say.

[From: Y/N :)]: s doctor reid speechless? am i that talented?

Spencer lies back on his couch, beaming at his phone like a teenager in a cheesy chick flick.

[To: Y/N :)]: You’re very talented. Mr Darcy clearly disagrees, but don’t listen to him.

And just like that, you’re back in the flow of things.

+++

When July rolls around, you and Spencer have been talking every day since March. Despite the monotonous, repetitive days, Spencer wakes up giddy when he sees you’ve texted him. He usually wakes up earlier than you, you have a habit of playing games or watching television until the early hours of the morning, and he loves to send you a fact to wake up to.

Your favourite are the animal facts. He got Amazon Prime just so he could buy a plethora of animal books and watch animal documentaries. All for you.

At one point, you evolved to phone calls. They don’t happen often and the first one was while you were drunk, but they’re fun for the both of you.

It had been a Saturday, you and your friend were having a movie marathon with wine and of course she brought up Spencer. She choked on her drink when you told her you haven’t heard his voice or seen him since the incident.

“You should call him,” She slurred, “Tonight.”

“He’s working on his jigsaw. I’m not going to interrupt.”

She gave you this incredulous look, asking Really?

“What?! I have respect for him and his jigsaws!”

“Have respect for yourself and how cute he is!”

“That doesn’t make sense!”

She sighed, placing her glass on the coffee table with a clunk, “Picture this: you’re helping him with the jigsaw.”

You couldn’t hide the slight upturn of your lips at the thought. You both love jigsaws, doing one with him would be stupidly romantic to you.

“Yeah.” She nodded ridiculously, “That ain’t gonna happen if you don’t call him!”

In your drunken state, you realised she’s right. You called him that night for a total of ten minutes before you passed out after calling him super handsome.

You both went to sleep feeling warm inside. Spencer called you again the next day, where the call lasted nearly two hours, and it went from there.

But now the lockdown rules are being eased. People are going back to work, meaning establishments like restaurants and hairdressers are opening up with limited capacity, all breathing beings expected to wear a mask.

Neither of you have mentioned actually meeting one another. You’re too nervous. What if he doesn’t like you? What if the image he’s created of you in his head is way better than you are in real life and he’s disappointed? What if he doesn’t want to meet you?

Spencer worries about the exact same things.

So neither of you say anything.

+++

It doesn’t happen often, but sometimes Spencer’s mail gets sent to the wrong address. Perhaps to his neighbour, the person living across the hall, or someone on a completely different floor.

Twice, Spencer’s mail has been delivered to the apartment building next door. The building he now exclusively calls “Y/N’s building”.

Now it’s three times.

Unphased by the mask on his face, Spencer glances around the lobby of your apartment building and wonders what your routine is when you get home. Do you immediately check for packages? Look at the noticeboard? Or do you go straight up to your apartment?

Spencer walks to the reception desk, smiling politely even though the person can’t see it.

“Hi, I’m from the building next door. I think my mail was accidentally sent here?”

He clicks a few buttons, types a few things, then flippantly asks, “Apartment number?”

“Twenty-three.”

“Let me go get it.”

He takes his time leaving his chair and wandering through a door. Spencer glances around. There’s a few people, all wearing masks (Thank God), doing their own thing.

There’s two girls next to him. He eavesdrops, because he’s bored.

“I’m too used to living with you now,” The girl facing him pouts, “I don’t want to go.”

The girl with her back to him laughs, light and sweet, “You live a block away.”

“You know Sally is gonna miss me.”

Sally? As in…

“She’s gonna miss you only because you feed her too much and now she’s fat.”

Wait.

“C’mon, Y/N-“

Spencer blocks out the rest cause holy hell. You’re right there. You’re standing right next to Spencer, in all your glory, and you have no idea that he’s right there, too.

Should he say something? Should he introduce himself? Should he..

“Here, sir. My apologies for the mix-up.” The receptionist re-appears, handing Spencer his mail.

“Thank you.”

And Spencer leaves.

Except he doesn’t.

He stops outside the reception entrance, takes out his phone, and texts you.

[To: Y/N :)] This is weird but I’m right outside your building. I think you’re in the foyer and I’m too scared to approach you.

Two minutes pass before the building doors fly open.

Your head swivels back and forth. When you find Spencer, adorable and awkward Spencer, he can tell you’re grinning from the way your eyes bunch up under your mask. God, he knows you have the most beautiful smile. Everything about you is beautiful.

“Hi,” You breathe.

Spencer mouths a silent hi. You’ve taken his breath away.

“I-um. It’s good to see you in person.” Your voice is soft. It’s soft, and smooth, and so much prettier in real life. It’s already pretty through the phone, but the real version shoots straight to his heart.

He gulps, “Yeah, it’s.. Unexpected, but nice.” The corners of his mouth quirk up and he can’t tear his eyes away from you, “You’re even more gorgeous in real life.”

The compliment rolls off his tongue naturally because it’s true and from the second he spotted you he’s lost all logical thinking.

“I am?” You ask, gentle and hesitant, almost asking are you sure you mean me?

Spencer blushes, somewhat embarrassed by his confession. But he meant it, Spencer’s not the type to say things he doesn’t mean, and you don’t give him time to regret it-

“Would you like to get some coffee? If you’re free now?”

Would it be too much if he screams Yes?

“Yes. I’m free,” He ignores the mail in his hands, stuffing it in his satchel, “But let’s avoid Café Nero, I assume you still haven’t recovered from the nightmare latte you had there.”

You grin, which makes Spencer feel fuzzy, flattered that he remembers anecdotes from your texts.

Of course he remembers. You remember he has an eidetic memory.

You shyly brush your hair behind your ears, both sides, and Spencer spots the bright red of them. You’re flushed, just like him, and it fills him with confidence to know you’re the same mixture of excited and anxious about meeting him in person.

“W-what about your friend?” Spencer gestures vaguely to where he assumes she’d be, “Would she mind?”

“She’s the reason I ran out here, so… I think she’d be mad if we didn’t leave her behind.”

You smile at one another, a few feet apart. Spencer’s bumped into by the opening door of your apartment complex and stumbles, apologising profusely to the unimpressed woman that just stares at him.

Through the entire ordeal you watch Spencer, only him, and can’t stop the radiant, love-filled look on your face.

Maybe Mr Darcy isn’t such a dick when he’s the reason Spencer came into your life.

[thefallennightmare]

Hard to Love [21/21]

Pairings: Chris Evans x Reader

Words: 1621

Warnings: this story will have mentions of abuse, mental and physical so please read at your own risk. Some swearing, angst, and a good amount of fluff. Maybe some smut if I'm feeling frisky.

Summary: After moving to a new town all on her own, Reader would do anything for a stable job and income. Even if that means housekeeping for one of Boston's eligible bachelors. What she didn't expect was finding herself falling in love with him and finding him out about the past that she was running from.

A/N: I cannot believe the ending is here. I also cannot thank you enough for all the love that you guys have gave this series. I really do appreciate it and love seeing all the comments! Your words of encouragement are what kept me going for this story. I’m so so sad it’s done. 

Lets finish this story with a happy ending! 

Tags: @kelbabyblue @patzammit @thesecretlifeofdaydreamss @jennmurawski13 @divadinag @cosmicbreathe @thevelvetseries @capstopavenger @chris-butt @denisemarieangelina @im-a-stranger-thing @jennamarieee623 @introvertedmouse @lharrietg @thejemersoninferno  @breezykpop @instantbasementtimetravel @rodgersteves @michaelscotfield-blog1 @40srogcrs @wonderingshawn @bellaireland1981 @katelyneannxo @lady-x-red @sare-bare93-blog @annmariek8​ @raabrakha​ @stxvercgersslut​

ONE YEAR LATER

“Where’s my cutie pie?!” I shouted, entering the home. 

Four feet trotted down the long hallway from the kitchen to the living room where I stood, hanging up my jacket and bag. Bending at the knees, I allowed all of the kisses and whines of happiness, scratching the furry ears. 

“How’s Dodger doing today?” I cooed. 

He followed me into the kitchen as I searched the fridge for something to ease my stomach. Munching on a piece of cheese, I checked my phone and saw a new message from Chris. 

I’ll be home in a few hours. I’m sorry baby, I didn’t think these interviews would take so long. 

Don’t be sorry! I’ll wait up for you xx. 

The last year, I had grown incredibly; putting everything that happened to me in the past, locking it away. The scars still remained on my body but I never let it affect me. Chris would always make sure he showed extra love to them, telling me that he loved the way I look. 

The first time Chris had to leave for work was a couple of months after everything and it was hard to get adjusted to sleeping in the bed alone but Dodger was the best replacement, keeping me safe every night. Chris tried to turn down movie roles but I quickly shot that down. I wouldn’t let him lose out on a possible great job because I missed him. 

I ended up seeing the live video he posted when I was missing and the amount of outpouring coming from his friends and fans also helped me heal. There were a good amount of people who at first weren’t happy that Chris was in a loving relationship but eventually, when he kept posting pictures of us on Instagram, they got used to it. 

My phone buzzed in my pocket and I saw a new message appear from Chris. 

Our weekend starts in less that two hours. I can’t wait to be alone with you. 

I smiled fondly at the message. 

The past couple weeks were filled with either him working almost every day or me continuing my schooling. We had his family and friends over a few times last week as well so we were practically begging the Gods above for some alone time. 

Which is why this weekend we had zero plans, just the two of us in our home. 

And Dodger. 

“OH COME ON!” Chris yelled at the T.V. 

A giggle erupted from my throat from my spot on the couch, my feet placed in his lap, as we watched the football game. 

Our weekend together was coming to an end, school for me and another press conference for Chris’ upcoming movie tomorrow, meant that reality was about twelve hours away. We spent the weekend in multiple different rooms of the house, our moans vibrating off the walls. 

I’ve had sex more in this weekend than I had in my entire adult life. 

Now, we were exhausted, so we decided to spend the rest of our Sunday in our lazy clothes on the couch; Chris wearing nothing but a pair of grey sweats and I ended up stealing his shirt and a pair of his boxers. 

Even though his eyes were transfixed on the game, he still made an effort to show me attention by rubbing the soles of my feet. I couldn’t stop myself from staring at this man in front of me. He let his beard grow this weekend, too lazy to shave it, which I didn’t complain one bit. The red marks on my thighs from earlier were an indication of that. His hair was short because he decided that he needed to buzz it last night; he was sick of it getting in his face. 

I marveled at the way the muscle in his jaw tightened when I rubbed my feet into his lap, purposely pressing into his soft cock. 

“If you keep that up, I’ll miss the last half of the game,” he threatened in a low voice. 

“But I’m horny!” I whined, lifting my shirt up and over my head. “Please?” 

I pinched my hard nipple between my fingers, hoping that would be enough to get him on top of me. 

It was. 

I yelped when Chris pulled my ankle towards him, his body on top of mine in seconds. His gold chain was dangling in front of my face as I looked up to him, our chest rising with heavy breaths. 

“So naughty,” he muttered against the crook of my neck. 

“Enough small talk and fuck me already, Evans,” I purred into his ear, fingernails digging into his bare back.

I couldn’t help but gnaw nervously on my bottom lip, tasting a bit of blood, while I paced the floor of our bedroom. Chris was out running errands but with the text I sent him, I knew that he would be on his way home asap. 

Can you come home please? I have to talk to you. 

My hands shook with nerves, feeling my cardigan being weighed down with the pressure that was in the pocket. I couldn’t help but worry about what Chris’ reaction would be. We never talked about this and I didn’t know if this would be what broke our relationship. 

“Y/N?” 

Hearing his voice, I made my way down the stairs and into the living room where he sat with Dodger on the couch. 

“Hey, everything alright?” He asked. 

I nodded and sat across from him. “Yeah, I think so.” 

He knew in the way my knee bounced and sucked in my bottom lip that whatever I had to talk to him about made me nervous as hell. Placing a hand on my knee, he gave me a warm smile. 

“Tell me,” he begged gently. 

Words were so foreign to me, not knowing exactly how to say it, so instead I handed him what was in my pocket. 

“I know we haven’t talked about it much but I couldn't not tell you. I mean you deserve to know. If you’re angry I understand. I’m confused too on how this happened,” I rambled. 

Chris didn’t hear a word I had spouted, his eyes trained hard on the stick in his hand with the two solid pink lines. 

“You’re pregnant?” His mouth twitched. 

I nodded and handed him my phone that held an email from the doctors office, confirming the pregnancy. Yesterday morning while Chris was out with his mom, I secretly had an appointment. 

“The doctor says I’m about six weeks,” I spoke softly. 

I was unsure of what his reaction would be, his gaze still stuck on the pregnancy test in his hand. 

Dodger knew something was different, sniffing the test in Chris’ hand. 

Finally after what felt like forever, Chris looked into my eyes and his mouth curved into a smile. 

“We’re having a baby?” 

The smile he had was a giant one, where you could almost count all of his teeth as he smiled down towards Dodger, showing him the sonogram on my phone as if Dodger could tell what he was looking at. 

The joy in his voice brought tears to my eyes. 

“You’re happy?” I asked. 

His hands snaked around my waist, pulling me into his lap. “I’m fucking ecstatic.” 

Our lips met in a rushed kiss, his hand finding its place on my stomach. His forehead rested against mine and his eyes shone with so much love that my heart leaped into my throat, knowing that his reaction was the complete opposite of what I was prepared for. 

“Stay here,” He mumbled against my lips in another kiss. 

I waited patiently as he rummaged for something in the desk of his office and he returned, hand behind his back. 

“I was saving this for when we went away next month but I don’t think I can wait.” He spoke before handing me a small box. 

A small velvet box. 

I gasped, watching him get down on one knee, and pried open the box. Inside was a gorgeous oval cut diamond on a plain gold band. The sunlight from outside had caught the ring in a warm glow of light. 

“This isn’t the most romantic idea of a proposal but I don’t want to wait any longer to ask you this. I first met you in this room when you came to work for me and in that moment I knew I wanted you; I needed you in my life. Y/N, you know I love you so fucking much. You have changed my life in so many ways and now we’re having a baby. You’re having my baby and somehow I love you even more. Y/N, will you marry me?” The tears welled in his eyes and he blew out a shaky breath. 

“Fuck yes!” I cried, hormones causing my eyes to pour tears down my cheeks. 

After he slid the ring on my finger, he picked me up with ease as he walked us towards our bedroom so we could celebrate the rest of our lives. 

I couldn’t believe how much my life had changed in two years since I first drove up to this house, nervous about what the job was that I had an interview for. I never imagined that I would face my past again, not letting it define who I was anymore. And I definitely never thought I would find someone who would love me with his whole entire heart and soul, knowing how hard to love I was. But he did; Chris vowed to me that night in hushed moans that he loved me then and forever. 

Along with the baby I was growing in my stomach; our baby. 

AND FIN!

[wastelandcth]

Coney Island - cth

summary: Will you forgive my soul when you're too wise to trust me and too old to care?

author’s notes: this was...wow. i hope you all enjoy shoutout to @in-superbloom and @hoodhoran for letting me give them sneak peeks to hype myself up over it! 

warnings: mentions of a car accident, mentions of a hospital, angst, sorry there’s a cliffhanger. 

masterlist || request || more songs for calum

You’d always been told that finding your passion at a young age was a blessing. That finding the one thing you wanted to do for the rest of your life and running with it was a blessing in disguise. You’d never understood why everyone would say that to you, you loved making art and there had never been a downside to creating art. There had never been a point in your life where your job had become a stressor and where you’d regretted ever wanting to chase the thrill of canvas and paint. Every day you’d wake up and have the time and space to create scenery you’d seen in dreams or in real life, little pockets in time you could freeze on canvas for the world to see. It’d been a rough start, selling your work for whatever amount you were offered until you had your break and found yourself in a museum overseas staring at the large painting hanging on the wall of some museum you’d dreamed about. You’d been standing there in the empty halls, breathing in the quiet of the hall, the occasional footsteps bringing you back into the moments before a shadow next to you brought your attention away from your splatter of colors and lines to the person who stood next to you. And that’s how you first met Calum, in the silence of an art museum where his eyes studied your work as if he’d been trying to find all the secrets you’d hidden in the paint. It was where you’d told him about the painting, where you’d both found one another in more ways than one. 

That’s when you finally understood the blessing in disguise. 

Coney Island had always been a warm and distant memory to you, the boardwalk lined with thrills on either side, waiting to be explored. You remembered cotton candy dreams and spending days in the sun with your friends. Coney Island has been love and laughter, sunshine and summer days, and a place where the pit in your stomach was gone. It had been all you could think about when summer was mentioned, an inspiration to the painting you’d whispered to Calum about. The colorful swirls of paint and oils that gave you your first real break in the art world had all come from the place where boardwalks and rides had brought you nothing but happiness. 

But now, the boardwalk was silent and you felt like a ghost walking through it. 

The ocean was inviting, a teasing view from wherever you stood, tempting you to step into the sand and sink into its secrets. The boardwalk echoed with every step you took, bouncing the noise up into the sky where it returned as a sharp crack of thunder. The empty bench you’d found was hard and cold, leaving your bones aching with a chill you weren’t sure would ever go away. The wind thumping against your ears as you took in the cold ocean air into your lungs, letting the salty breeze burn them and leave you gasping for air. Your eyes searched the water, a muted gray and blue that seemed to stretch on for as far as your eyes could see, swirling with white foam from the waves that crashed onto the sand every so often. 

The lights from the amusement park flickered against the shore, strobing in and out of view which left you shaking and with teary eyes. The waves filled your head with the screeching of tires and breaking glass. The swirling of the ocean putting the same fear in the pit of your stomach as when you’d heard Calum’s scream. The scream that had been cut off as the call went dead. 

“I know I promised I’d be able to make it to dinner…” you mumbled hesitantly, frowning as you heard Calum’s sigh, “But I-”

“Let me guess, you have a very important gallery show and it just happened to slip your mind again so you’ll have to skip dinner with the band?” Calum mumbled, the annoyance in his voice obvious, “Yeah, I’ve heard it before. It’s fine, you’ll still make it to the show, right?”

“Well…” you sighed and ran a hand through your hair as the busy streets of Brooklyn surrounded you, “I’m really sorry, Cal.”

“Are you serious?” he scoffed, “We’ve had this planned for weeks now! You can’t just-”

“Calum? Calum?! Honey?”

The hospital had become a maze, turns, and twists that only led your farther and farther from your destination. With every squeak of your shoes against the vinyl floor, you felt yourself drifting farther away from him, from the man who’d you’d been putting second to your job and the one you didn’t know you’d be able to see again. Your adrenaline had been on high since the moment the emergency worker had answered the tenth call you’d made to Calum’s phone, telling you the what, when, and where had happened to Calum. You’d raced through the busy sidewalks, trying to find the hospital where Calum’s unconscious self was being sent to. But even as you walked through the barren halls, hands shaking and dried tears on your cheeks, you couldn’t help but blame yourself for it all. What if he never woke up and the last words you’d shared between one another was a fight? What if he never knew that you loved him more than anything in the world? What if all the nights away from him could’ve been switched for time spent together? 

“Darling?” one of the nurses said softly, breaking you out of the hurricane of thoughts, “Hey, take deep breaths, how can I help you? Are you hurt?”

“Where’s….they said he’d be here but I don’t..” 

“Who are you looking for, honey?”

“Where did my baby go?”

You’d been ready to answer, to tell them that you needed to see Calum and hold his hand. To make sure he was okay and that he’d be able to make it to his show that night, to be happy on stage. But that was all thrown out the door when the doors opened, bringing a gust of cold and rainy wind into the room as well as the man you’d talked to on the phone only minutes before. Your breath caught in your throat, your body going stiff as you watched them wheel him into the building and then away from you. He was bloody and bruised, his eyes shut in a way that seemed too peaceful for the situation he was in. His hair was flat against his head, the usual curls that had roamed freely on his head now matted with blood, and you couldn’t help but rush out of the building. The walls had started to close in, trapping you in as you watched Calum disappear behind a crowd of nurses and doctors, and you finally took a breath of air as the door shut behind you and the hospital was behind you.

The waves were louder now, crashing against the shore with a force so strong they shook the boardwalk beneath your feet. You hadn’t realized how far you’d walked, not until the familiar lights of the boardwalk shone beneath the fog that had come with the rain, how far you’d walked away from him again. It wasn’t like he’d want you there anyways, the annoyance in his voice had been a clue if you’d ever seen one. You had just pushed him aside again in order to go to another gallery you knew deep down you could afford to miss. It had been like that for weeks now, you both danced around the fact that you hadn’t been in the same city for months on end. Daily phone calls or text messages were replaced with a silence neither of you enjoyed and airplane trips became lonely. You’d been off traveling the globe as your newest works were displayed all across and Calum had been off promoting the band’s latest album. It hadn’t been the first time both of your jobs had overlapped schedules and being away from one another for this long had happened, but the silence was new. 

Which is why the fact that you were both finally in the same city was so important for Calum, and for you. But the idea of finally seeing him had caused the pit of anxiety to form and you found yourself looking for excuses to push him away. And now your last memories of him would be seeing his bruised body being wheeled away from you, the way his voice had cut off with a squeal of tires, and the sound of glass breaking. All because you’d put a distance between the both of you because you felt that intense feeling that you could no longer ignore. It had first started that night when his back became a canvas for your art, and his soft gasps whenever the cold paint hit his skin had ingrained themselves in your brain. The gasps and giggles mixed in with the smell of paint and you felt yourself falling more and more in love with Calum, seeing yourself old and gray with him. It had been terrifying and the shapes you’d made with paint had become nothing but a blur of colors. 

“I love you,” he mumbled against his arm, watching as you’d started packing up the paints and brushes you’d just used on his skin, “You know that?”

“Mhm, and lucky for you,” you teased, pushing down the pit of fear into the back of your mind, “I am deeply in love with you.” 

That’s what loving Calum had always been, a blur of beautiful colors. 

The air had begun to pick up now, swirling and swinging around the sky as the storm grew closer and closer. Not that it mattered much, your face was already soaked with tears and stained by the black mascara that had been running down ever since you’d walked out of the hospital. You wished he’d be by your side, hugging you and telling you it would all be okay. If you closed your eyes and focused hard enough you could hear his voice, modulated over the speaker of your phone as he told you about his day. He’d been trying to distract you again, the frustration of your newest piece not looking how you’d imagined bringing you close to tears. 

“I’ll see you soon, yeah? And then you can paint all over my body so you can find inspiration. I promise.” he chuckled quietly, probably laying in a dark room across an ocean. 

“I miss you,” you sighed, watching the sunrise out your window and rubbing at your tired eyes. 

“I love you,” he whispered, a smile in his voice, as if those were the only three words you needed to hear. Maybe they were, maybe those were the three little words you would remember before the crash pulled him away from you. 

Time seemed to tick by slowly, almost torturing you, as your eyes drifted from the ocean storm ahead to the screen of your phone. You knew it was coming, the call that would change your life forever. The one that would leave you broken and shattered on the beach like the shells that had crunched under your feet. Soon enough, the buzz of your phone would bring the time with Calum to an end. Soon, it would just be you, the ocean breeze, and the memory of Calum. The crack of thunder shook the world around you, almost making you miss the sharp shrill that came from your phone, the screen lighting up with a picture of Calum you’d taken a few months back. Your lungs froze, hands shaking as your thumb slid over the screen and accepted the call, bracing yourself for the inevitable. 

“H-hello?” you asked, mentally preparing for the tears that would fill the ocean with salty tears. 

“I think I-I forgot to say your name and they wouldn’t let me in no matter how many times I asked,” you stuttered out, your feet carrying you back towards the sidewalk, towards Calum, “I love you so much I’m so sorry I’ve been so far away.” 

That’s what you would’ve said to Calum, if you’d only had more time and if you had said no to more events. You would’ve spilled your heart out to him, telling him all the secret words you had only whispered in the darkness of the room when you were sure Calum was asleep and his soft snores confirmed he’d never hear them. And even then, as the static of the ocean makes it hard for you to hear the call connect, the waves crashing onto the shore as the wind picks up doesn’t matter. Nothing matters then because the sharp inhale of air brings them to a dangerous silence, a silence that hurts your ears as the ocean, the waves, thunder, and air all come to an end with a soft whisper. 

“Baby?” Calum’s voice spoke out, the softness of it laced with a pain you wished you could take away. But it was Calum’s voice and that itself felt like a lightning bolt to the chest, a breath of fresh air, and a cold wave to wake them up. 

And that cold bench on Coney Island feels like the warmth of his voice. 

join my taglist: @hoodhoran​ @moonlightcriess @mxgyver @calpops @karajaynetoday @notlukehemmo @calumrose @devilatmydoor @lowkeyflop  @whoyougonnafind @hemmo1996-5sosvevo @ashtonsunflower @2fangirl4u @multistann @wiiildflowerrr @himbohood @in-superbloom @ashtonsunflower @suchalonelysunflower @killmywildflower @sebsbrokentoe @nicebasscalum

[horansqueen]

New Angel - Chapter 19

story masterlist [x]

chapter 1  ☆ chapter 2  ☆ chapter 3  ☆ chapter 4  ☆ chapter 5  ☆ chapter 6  ☆ chapter 7  ☆ chapter 8 ☆ chapter 9 ☆ chapter 10 ☆ chapter 11 ☆ chapter 12 ☆ chapter 13 ☆ chapter 14 ☆ chapter 15 ☆ chapter 16 ☆ chapter 17 ☆ chapter 18

NOTES

☆ written from Niall’s pov ☆ i don’t proofread, I never do, I hate it. ☆ AU comedy/fluff/smut/romance ☆ 2.5k ☆ i accept requests and ideas for this story, so message me in my inbox! ☆ if you want to be notified when this story is updated (or be taken off the update list) CLICK HERE

NIALL

When I woke up, Millie was still asleep, her lips parted as she snored softly. I stared at her a few seconds but decided to get up slowly and walked to the kitchen after closing the door gently behind myself. I started making coffee and grabbed my phone to check my notifications. I clicked on Louis' name and licked my lips trying to find a way to make this whole fight stop. Now that I was finally close with Millie, I didn't want to lose Louis, and even if I knew Millie was not ready to be friends with Louis again, the thought of the three of us being best friends together sounded amazing. I wanted it to be possible at some point and for that, I had to solve my problems with Louis.

'Hey mate, how about Millie, you and I spend sunday evening together?'

I didn't want to explain that it was to solve things and I didn't want to have to point out that it was only the three of us, meaning that he couldn't bring his girlfriend. I liked to believe that he was smart enough to understand that but the last few times he could spare Millie some pain, he didn't, and I felt the need to add something.

'Just the three of us, you know? Maybe we could save this friendship.'

I watched the coffee fall for a few minutes and finally poured some in my favorite mug before I heard my phone beep. I raised my eyebrows when I realized it was Louis, surprised that he was up this early, and sighed low of relief when I read his answer.

'worth a shot. i'll be there.'

Now, I just had Millie to convince. And I knew it was not going to be an easy task.

---

It was not what I had expected. There were so many people in the apartment that I was starting to be scared someone would call the police on us. I kept going from the kitchen to the living room and even sometimes checked the bedrooms to make sure no one was breaking anything until Millie grabbed my arm to stop me and handed me a glass. I looked in her eyes and she raised her eyebrows, moving the glass closer to me. I stared down at it for a few seconds and finally grabbed it before swallowing everything in it. It burned down my throat and I grimaced, making Millie chuckle as she grabbed the glass from my hands.

"I wanted you to relax but if you empty that fast all the glasses of vodka I'll bring you, you'll be drunk in half an hour." she pointed, out, pulling on my arm.

I followed her and blinked a few times before she turned around to smile at me for half a second and finally looked back in front of her. It made my lips curl slightly too and when we reached the kitchen, she grabbed the bottle of vodka and filled my glass again.

"You're not drinking?" I asked, taking a sip from the drink she was handing me.

"No, I told you last night." she reminded me, shrugging a shoulder and leaning against the counter. "There's too many people and I want to make sure everything and everyone is alright."

"I thought we did that to celebrate our week together!" I argued, drinking what was left in my glass and making her chuckle.

"Yea well, I can do that without alcohol now can't I?" she shrugged, handing me what was left of the vodka bottle.

"Are you trying to get me drunk?" I asked with half a smirk, taking the bottle and grabbing her fingers at the same time. "Trying to get in me pants, yeah?"

"Exactly." she replied with sarcasm, sending me a cheeky smile. "I love riding drunk idiots who can't make me get an orgasm."

She walked past me and I frowned, turning around and moving my fingers up, following her quickly.

"Okay first off I'm not drunk, and also I give intense and amazing orgasms, even when I'm drunk. Which I'm not, by the way." I stopped in the hall and frowned a bit. "Did you put drugs in that vodka or something?"

"No!" she replied, turning around swiftly to face me. I watched as her hair danced around her head and swallowed hard. "What did you eat today, Niall?"

"Uhm, oatmeal? And eggs."

"Like, ten hours ago?" she argued, shaking her head with her eyebrows raised. "I'll get you some candies okay?"

I chuckled, not really understanding how candies could sustain me but I followed her to her room anyway. I leaned against the door frame, watching as she opened a few drawers and came back with a big pack of sour patch kids, pushing it on my chest and making my lips curl more.

"I prescribe two candies for every sip."

"Yes, doctor." I joked, making her roll her eyes with a smile.

We walked out of her room and I heard her close the door but immediately, I lost my smile as I came face to face with someone I didn't remember inviting. I looked at her, her perfect lips parting and her big brown eyes staring into mine. Grace was gorgeous and I thought my heart would jump in my chest at her sight but it didn't.

"Niall, hey." she let out, pressing her lips together and placing a lock of her hair behind her ear. "Uhm, Cole invited me."

"Who?"

"Oh he's a guy I work with." Millie pointed out, sending my ex girlfriend a smile. "Hey Grace. I'll leave you too."

She grabbed my upper arm and squeezed it gently, sending me a fond smile, and disappeared in the mob of people.

I finally put my attention back on Grace and she licked her lips nervously, glancing at the hall. "Can we talk in private?"

I glanced at her hands, noticing she was playing with her fingers, and it made me think about my list. The only positive point I had time to write down was that I loved her, but now that she was here in front of me, I was not sure it was the kind of love that deserved to me saved. Grace was gorgeous, and I had hoped for a future together, but not anymore.

"Yea, alright.

We ended up in my room and I just sat on the bed, watching her close the door behind herself. My eyes followed her as she walked up to me and sat very close to me, her thigh brushing against mine slightly. I looked down at her pants rubbing against mine and was surprised when I realized it didn't do anything to me anymore.

"I miss you so much." I looked up at her and held my breath when I realized she was tearing up. "I get it, you know. You don't want to be with me anymore because I've hurt you, and I can't blame you. But I'd give anything for a second chance."

She grabbed my hand and squeezed my fingers but I couldn't get enough strength inside of me to do it back. She moved closer, sliding her other hand on my thigh and I looked down at it as my heartbeats accelerated. I felt paralyzed, torn between accepting her gesture and giving in one last time, or stopping her before it went too far. I closed my eyes, trying to make a decision but it's only when I felt her play with my zipper that my eyes opened quickly and I noticed she was on her knees.

"Grace, wait..."

"I just want to make you feel good." she whispered as I held my breath, my eyes roaming on her.

"I know, and I appreciate it, but Grace I can't." I got up and bent down to help her get up too but when my eyes met hers, I noticed she was tearing up.

"So, it's really over?"

That thought made my heart jump in my chest and I swallowed hard. I felt a bit dizzy and tipsy and I kept wondering if I would regret this in the morning. Would I regret not letting her put my dick in her mouth? But most of all, would I regret the words I was about to let out?

"Yes. It's really over."

Once again, she pressed her lips together but this time, I knew it was to stop the tears from getting out and as she turned around, I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. I grabbed it and answered without thinking of checking who was calling and my heart stopped for half a second when I heard Summer on the line.

"Niall?"

"Oh, hey, darling." I let out, glancing at Grace who had quickly turned around with a frown. "How are you?"

"Do you have a new girlfriend?" Grace asked, getting closer to me again.

She didn't seem mad at all but I could read pain in her eyes and it made my heart twist in my chest. Yes, Grace had hurt me, and perhaps I had wished that she would hurt just as bad a few weeks ago, but not anymore. If I could spare her the pain, I would do it.

"Niall? Are you with an other girl?" I heard Summer's voice again.

I closed my eyes, trying not to sigh, and shook my head slightly. "Yea, my ex girlfriend is here." I explained. "There's a party at my place."

"Oh, uhm, great!" she let out, making me frown slightly, my eyes still shut. "We needed a break! I'll see you!"

I opened my lips to answer something but she just hung up and I let my head fall back on my shoulders. I thought I'd spend a nice evening getting drunk and laughing with my friends but instead, my girl problems were all going to be there to ruin the mood.

When I opened my eyes, Grace was gone and even if I wouldn't admit it, it was a relief. I walked out of my room to join everyone and noticed Louis sitting on the couch, his girlfriend on his lap as they were both laughing with two guys I didn't know. I decided to go grab a beer in the fridge and started looking for Millie without much success. After twenty minutes or so, Louis noticed me and nodded as a greeting. I did the same and sent him a small smile that he sent back and just when I thought my heart was back to a normal beating, Grace appeared again in front of me. This time, she was clearly drunk and she moved so close to me that I took a small step back.

"I can't believe you replaced me so fast, Niall." she whispered, tilting her head and looking at me with tired eyes. "Is she prettier than me? Does she give better blow jobs than me?"

I frowned and shook my head slightly. I couldn't tell my ex girlfriend that Summer was clearly not ready to go that far. Not only was it none of her business but she was also too tipsy to really understand anything I would say.

"Grace, come on, I didn't replace you." I argued in a soft tone.

"No?"

"Of course not, you know it." I repeated, moving my chin down and opening my eyes more to look into hers. "I really loved you."

I thought it would ease the pain a bit even if I had used the past tense but I didn't think she'd actually just move closer and crush her lips against mine. I held my breath in surprise but it took me a few seconds to move away and when I looked up, I noticed Summer staring at me with sad eyes, her lips open.

"Holy shit." I murmured, knowing that even if I was theoretically single, there was a storm coming at me very soon.

"Wow, great way to get an answer to my confession." Summer let out, tearing up and shaking her head. "Fuck off."

She turned around, her long blond hair moving quickly in a ponytail, and I closed my eyes with a sigh. I knew I had to run to her and even if I really didn't want to have this discussion, I did it anyway.

"Summer, wait." I said calmly, grabbing her wrist gently and making her turn around. "Grace kissed me without telling me. I'm sorry, okay? You were not supposed to see that because it wasn't supposed to happen."

"That's such a relief." she added sarcastically again, taking her arm back and crossing them on her chest. "Did you miss me?"

I felt my heart twist in my chest and my lips parted. She noticed my hesitation and sniffed, wiping a single tear that was sliding down her cheek, making me feel extremely guilty.

"Did you take the time to think about what I told you, at least?"

"All I know is that I don't want a relationship for now."

Summer nodded slowly, looking away, and I knew she was making extra effort not to cry. I wanted to move closer and take her in my arms but something made me think it was not a good idea at all.

"Alright, well I need some time."

Quickly, she turned around and disappeared but this time, I didn't follow her. I just turned on my heels too and walked to the kitchen, opening the freezer to grab a bottle of jack. I didn't even take the time to take a glass and swallowed a long sip directly from the bottle. The glass was cold in my hand and I felt my fingers warm it but I took an other long sip, feeling my eyes water before to go back in the living room.

I realized I was not walking straight and that the room was moving only when I was close to the couch and I grabbed it to get my balance back before drinking again from the bottle even if I knew it was a bad idea. I took an other step, letting go of the couch and tripped on my own feet, falling on the hard wood floor. I was laying there, on my back, with a bunch of people looking at me, and I started laughing. The more I thought about everything that had happened on that night, the louder and harder I was laughing.

I kept laughing when Millie appeared, pushing people away and telling them to 'get the fuck away' from me, and also when she helped me up. I leaned against her, sending her an amused smile as I tried to contain my laughter but when she sent me mad eyes, I couldn't help but burst out again.

"Okay, you definitely need some fresh air." she pointed out, helping me out of the apartment, not even bothering to close the door behind us. "Then you can tell me everything that happened that made you want to intoxicate yourself until you can't even walk."

"Fuck love." I just replied, ignoring her comment. "I don't think I can ever love again. I won't fall in love ever again, until I die."

[1kook]

skirt chasers - drabble i

a skirt chasers drabble bc they are my fave fictional couple to date <333

tags: coupley and domestic, jk’s terrible attempts at seducing via text, making out, dry humping, spitting (ik idk what came over me), too much talking for this to be sexual pero hey here we are wc: like 3k

entirely based off jungkook from bv3 that man had NO right to look that good and  the holy jirkenstocks (jungkook birkenstocks). wont lie this has been completely written in my drafts since November (yes 2019) and i hoarded it under the belief i would make this a whole part 2 which i did not 

que dios los bendiga <3

-

Much to everyone’s dismay, Jungkook’s spring break in Vegas with the boys is cut three days short when Jimin’s dog sitter suddenly cancels, citing a case of homesickness as enough cause to abruptly go home. When you first hear news of this, you’re preparing yourself for the return of a mopey, useless Jungkook, too drained from four glorious days in Las Vegas to carry on. What you’re not expecting is the mysterious text he sends you before boarding a five hour flight with no service (he was cheap).

kook still on vegas lockdown. Have that pussy ready when i get home

“The fuck does that mean?” Chaeyoung is the first to see the message, your screen lighting up on the kitchen counter beside you as you scrub through a mountainous pile of dishes. You try to play it off, after all, Chaeyoung had seen parts of you you hadn’t even seen, but there was no worse embarrassment than having your homegirls see your clown of a boyfriend’s ridiculousness. “He’s so romantic,” she swoons, and you shoo her away from the offending device as you wipe your hands down on your t-shirt. 

you for what?? One 20 second round 🤥

Chaeyoung suddenly cackles from over your shoulder, and you swear your soul leaves your body. 

You don’t get a response until exactly five hours and thirteen minutes later, your phone vibrating like crazy on the edge of your bathtub, and if you hadn’t given it a hearty kick and sent it flying across the room, front screen shattering into the most intricate spider web of glass shards, it would have fallen into the water. The terror. 

kook pls pick me up 

kook also haha. U r soooo funny 😑

You’re halfway to the airport, idly sitting in traffic and giving the public a free, Beyonce-like experience of The Script’s Breakeven, when you realize you’re not wearing any pants. You’re not exactly sure which part of Jungkook’s long t-shirt had tricked you into believing you were decently dressed, but you’re not too mad. After all, Jungkook’s trip with the boys had been a last minute decision that did not take into consideration your never-ending thirst for your boyfriend, so a little payback never hurt anybody. 

He’s sitting on top of his suitcase outside the airport when you get there, cute Birkenstock-clad feet swinging back and forth as he waits for you like the good boy he is. He crouches down by the passenger window, “Uh, yeah, is this the Uber?” 

You can’t even bother hiding the smile that consumes your face, and it only grows tenfold when he finally gets in and immediately leans over the center console to kiss you. “Look who’s finally back from their little bachelor party,” you murmur, eyes lidded dangerously low when he breaks away. 

“Oh, the party where I accidentally sleep away my life-savings to a stripper named Aries and then have to go home and beg for my wife’s forgiveness?” He responds immediately, devious pink tongue swiping out to lick at your bottom lip. 

You snort. “Joke’s on you, because our hot pool boy kept me company and treated me better in four days than my husband had in six years,” you mumble, finger looping into the silver chain around his neck to pull him close again. 

“Not our hot pool boy,” he whines, smile pressed adorably to your lips. 

You almost retort, but a ten-second horn blast from the car behind you has the two of you jumping three feet from each other, like teenagers caught making out in the school parking lot. 

-

Just as you’d predicted via text, Jungkook barely has the energy to walk up the steps to your apartment, much less fuck you like he’d promised. “Fuck, stop being healthy and let us take the elevator,” he grunts, pushing his suitcase onto the final platform leading to your floor.

“Nope,” you concede. “The stairs give me a good view of your ass going up.”

He shoots you a scandalized look, like you’re an old man who’d just catcalled him on the street. “Pretty sure that’s my line.”

It’s when you’re unlocking the front door, sending out a little prayer to the heavens (Chaeyoung) for the blessing of an empty apartment, that he notices your lack of proper clothing. “Oh, hell no,” he groans, immediately crowding you against the armchair nearest the door. 

You laugh, struggling to turn to face him as he nuzzles his face into your neck. “What seems to be the problem?”

He sighs against the shell of your ear, and you’d be a liar to say it didn’t send a gush of wetness to your core. Jesus, just a single puff of air from Jungkook was enough to turn your coochie into a Fruit Gusher. “Not your sexy legs again,” he whines, and you giggle when he presses those pouty lips to yours. 

“Thought I was supposed to have this pussy ready for you,” you tease, tilting your head up until your noses brush against each other. Jungkook lets a soft huff of a sigh go, eyes fluttering shut at your close proximity. 

There’s a hand that creeps along the back of your thigh, fingers pressing into the soft skin until he finally guides it upwards, hitched over his hip. The new position has your body curving backwards, tilted over the edge of the couch as he continues crowding closer and closer to you. “Baby,” he whines, and the tone and sudden usage of your favorite nickname wipes the teasing smile off your face. “I missed you so much,” he purrs, in that tone that says he knows he has you under his complete control, all he has to do is take care of you. 

Still, you try to put up some sort of a fight. “I’m sure your eyes were kept entertained in Vegas,” you retort weakly, not even bothering to hide the jealousy in your tone. 

Jungkook laughs, before puckering his lips and smothering you. Instantly, you throw your arms around his broad shoulders to pull him closer. His hair tickles your face from how long it’s gotten, and when you brush it back, collecting it into a makeshift baby ponytail, you can’t even enjoy the sight because Jungkook is pressing his rock hard member against your inner thigh. 

“You think I’m a cheater?” He muses when he finally pulls away, a little entranced by the saliva that coats your lips in a thin sheen. “Couldn’t be even if I wanted to.” Before you can ask what that even means, he’s hauling you into his arms, your legs wrapping around his tiny waist, his cock now cradled between your thighs, right where you want him most. You moan immediately, head lolling backwards at the touch you’d craved for days. “Feel that? No one gets my dick hard like you do, baby.”

Even though his adrenaline is on one hundred, and he’s clearly blinded by his lust, Jungkook still sets you down on the bed like you’re made of glass. Any comments you may have made are smothered by his lips on yours, fingers gripping your waist like it’s the first time he’s ever touched you. When he pulls away, his eyes are dark and his breath is a little heavy where it fans against the lower half of your face. 

“So pretty,” he huffs, rolling his hips against yours. You groan, eyes rolling back as the familiar feeling of your boyfriend between your legs consumes you. Jungkook presses his mouth against the skin of your neck, where the faintest sheen of sweat had begun to form the moment you unlocked the front door. 

If you thought you were loud, the sounds leaving Jungkook’s throat are teetering on the edge between a pornstar and a yodelling-enthusiast. You can’t help the smirk crossing your features. “Are you really gonna come?”

Jungkook was many things, and drama queen was definitely very high on that list. He gives you the most scandalized expression, stopping the movement of his hips to scoff. “As if,” he snorts, but you know that little eyebrow furrow a little too well. 

You snort, reaching down to his sides as you try to discreetly urge him to start up again. “Baby, your jaw is twitching,” you point out, a soft whine leaving your lips when he shifts your leg up. It’s this same sound that has him finally moving again. 

“Yeah, well,” he groans, one hand deathly gripping into your hip now, pressing you down onto the bed so hard you feel the comforter will swallow you up any minute now. “I just got my wisdom teeth removed, ‘member?”

Your retort is briefly cut off by the cry you let out when he ducks down to suck a mark beneath your jaw. “M-Months ago,” you weakly respond, 

Jungkook ignores you in favor of using his Hulk strength to fold you in half, groans borderline animalistic as he grinds his cock into your soaked panties. His jaw is tight like you’d said, but you can tell he’s holding himself back. He hated coming before you, seldom doing it unless it was one of those rare days where he wanted you to pamper him. 

“Fuck,” he grunts, swallowing your pitiful whines before pushing his tongue down your throat. There was something sexy about your boyfriend being so turned on that his saliva production was off the charts. “You’re gonna ask me to do that thing again, aren’t you?” He predicts. 

All you can do is nod, and Jungkook smirks. “Ah,” he says, much like a doctor would, and you comply, mouth wide. You see the muscles beneath his jaw twitch, and a moment later he’s leaning over you with puckered lips, a glob of saliva begging to drip down. 

The moan that catches in your throat has him smiling, tongue peeking out to cut the bridge of saliva that connected the two of you, and you want to tell him you love him, but then he’s raising his eyebrows at you, motioning for you to swallow, so you do. “Absolutely filthy,” he grins, and then returns to thrusting against you. 

As much as you liked to tease him, he’s good at fulfilling the sexual aspects of his boyfriend role, and he guides you to your orgasm moments later. Of course, he does so by toying with your tits just the way you like, lips pressed firmly to yours as you become a boneless heap beneath him. “That’s it, pretty baby,” he murmurs, pressing one final kiss to your lips before he’s shifting back onto his haunches, tugging you closer until the backs of your knees are cradled carefully in his elbows. 

Despite your transcended state, you love watching Jungkook get himself off, and your eyes flutter as you watch him thrust sloppily against your soiled panties. They’re soaked by your own arousal, and had Jungkook’s sweats not been as dark as they were, you’re almost certain you’d see how they stained. 

He comes a moment later, body twitching and fingers tightening against your skin. His chest heaves, head lolling back as he tries to regain his senses. Silence envelopes the room. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” You blurt, no longer able to pretend like something isn’t completely wrong. 

Jungkook rolls his neck out, a satisfying crack resounding, as he angles to look at you again. His tongue is poking against his cheek in that cocky way it does sometimes, and he furrows his brows at you. “What?”

You shuffle up onto your elbows, motioning towards him with the vaguest wave possible. He blinks. You groan. 

“What did you do?” You question, and immediately his eyes go wide and shiny in that way they do when you’re reprimanding him and he doesn’t see the wrong in his ways. 

Cute little lips forming a pout he remains as confused. “Nothing? We really just went to fuck around and get drunk—“

“Kook.”

“You don’t actually think I cheated, I thought we were just joking? Unless…” he trails off, doe eyes suddenly filled with fear. “You weren’t?”

“Jungkook—“

He intercepts you, “did you do something while I was gone? Who was he? Or she? Wow,” he huffs to himself in disbelief. “I don’t even know you well enough to know if you’re into more than just men.” The frown on his face is getting deeper with each word he utters and you almost can’t believe how dumb he could be. “No wonder… am I a terrible boyfriend?” He asks, voice louder and more concerned than it’s been all night. 

“What the fuck are you even talking about?” You say, and Jungkook looks just as lost by your response as you are with his. “Because I’m talking about whatever this is,” you explain, reaching up to drag a hand through his dual-colored locks. 

They’d been carefully tucked under his bucket hat when you’d picked him up, a tuft of blonde peeking out from in front of his ear. It wasn’t until he’d tipped you over the side of the couch that it had tumbled off. Of course, at the time, there had been other pressing matters at hand than wondering why your Hannah Montana blonde boyfriend had returned as Todoroki, which is why you’d waited until now to revisit the topic. 

Jungkook doesn’t move for a solid ten seconds. Then, as if processing the emotional episode he’d just given you, he gives you a sheepish smile. It’s one of those smiles where his lips press together thinly and cutely and the apples of his cheeks seem like the squishiest things in the world. “Oh…” he says, voice soft and nothing like the man that spit in your mouth five minutes ago. “You like it?”

[yes-ihavealwaysbeengreen]

Day 14: The Test Results - Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia

Day 14: The Test Results - Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia 

Todays story was requested by @itspdameronthings​. Thank you so much for the request and I really hope you like it. This is the longest of all the stories I have written for the November Writing Challenge.

November Writing Challenge Masterlist 

Day 13: Water Flowed- Llewyn Davis 

Day 1 

“Do you have to go?” Your voice is quiet as you watch him pack his bags from your seat on the bed. 

“Querida, you know I don’t want to but they are asking me back as a favor AND I’m being compensated. I worked in Columbia for three years, it's where my mother was born. I feel like I need to do this,” he kneels in front of you, taking your hands in his own. “It’s only four months and I promise I will call and text you every single day. It’s killing me to leave you but...I feel I have to do this.” 

Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia was a former member of Delta Force in the US Military before leaving to go work for the DEA in Columbia. Three years ago, he left Columbia to return home but not without one final mission. He got together a few of his old buddies from the force and robbed a drug lord before killing him and fleeing the country. But something went wrong. Well… a lot of shit went wrong, resulting in the death of his old captain, Tom, and forcing them to leave millions of dollars off the side of a cliff buried in the snow. 

Santiago had accepted a temporary assignment with the DEA to return back to Columbia and train some new recruits. You were not one bit okay with this plan but the one thing you loved and also kind of hated about your husband was how headstrong he could be. Unfortunately, you are just as stubborn as him. The last few weeks leading up to his departure had been fraught with arguments. You didn’t want him to go. Even though it had been years since that last mission, you didn’t know what the situation down there was. Were they still hunting for the men who had robbed and gunned down Lorea? Was he walking into a trap? No money was worth losing the man you loved, and he didn’t seem to understand that. 

“You don’t have to do anything.” The words are bitter on your tongue and Santiago winces, before moving to stand. “We don’t need that money, and you have no idea what you walking into baby…” 

“Y/N, we have talked about this enough. I am going!” He slams the top of his suitcase closed before pulling the zipper harshly and walking towards the door. He turns sharply at the door pointing at you, “Why do you keep arguing with me about this? I have told you a million reasons why I need to do this! Instead of supporting me you're just fighting with me!” 

“I do support yo-” 

“Well, you sure have a funny way of showing it.” he swings his backpack on his back, puts on his hat and walks out the door. You’re on your feet in a hurry. “Goddamnit, Santiago! Will you just fucking listen to me for two minutes?”  You grab his shoulder and turn him to face you. He’s fuming and you can tell the volcano is seconds away from blowing. “I DO support you! I understand WHY you feel the need to do this but I LOVE YOU and I don’t want to LOSE YOU!” 

You're out of breath from shouting, and you see the anger slowly fade from his face as he comes to stand closer to you, “Querida...baby you're not going to lose me. I love you….so … damn … much. I never really felt alive until I met you, and no one,” he puts a finger under your chin and raises your eyes to his own, “no one is going to take me away from you.” 

“You can’t promise that…” Your words come out broken and a choked sob escapes you. “You don’t know what’s going to happen. Santi I can’t lose you. I won’t survive without you…” 

“Shhh.” He pulls you close and you collapse in a sobbing heap into his chest, your tears soaking the front of his t-shirt, his hands are strong as he holds you close. “I know nothing is one hundred percent but I love you and I am going to come home back to you. Nothing could ever keep me away.” He pulls you away from his chest, wiping your eyes before kissing you gently.

“I love you too Santi, so much.” You sigh into the kiss and hold him tight before he pulls away, walking towards the door, grabbing his duffle bag from the floor and walking out, taking your heart with him. 

Day 31 

Santiago kept good on his promise and called and texted every single day, each time letting you know he was safe and how much he loved you. He was working hard down there, and he loved the adventure, even if he missed you like crazy. You missed him too and the combination of being without your husband, taking care of the whole house, your shared basset hound, and work was draining. It was only a matter of time before you started feeling under the weather. You had been feeling fatigued, sore throat, cough, and after two days of vomiting throughout the day you had to admit it, you were sick. 

On your nightly call with Santi the worry in his voice warmed your heart. “Baby, you need to go to the doctor and get checked. Remember when you got bronchitis last year? It was pretty bad.” 

You hack into the receiver “Yeah, maybe you're right. I just feel like shit Nauseous all day long. Jonathon actually sent me home today. Said he was worried about me ‘infecting’ the office.” 

Santi mutters under his breath but you hear him and snort. “Yeah I agree he is a dick, but I appreciate being sent home. I’ll go to the urgent care tomorrow.” 

“Do you promise?” 

“Yes, I promise. I want to feel better...I just hate going to the doctor.” You recall the many times Santi had to drag you kicking and screaming (sometimes literally) to the doctor. 

“Why don’t you ask one of the guys to go with you?” 

“Maybe...Frankie mentioned he was off tomorrow when I called him yesterday....” 

“See. It was meant to be. Why don’t you text him after you hang up with me and he will make sure you go? Then I can rest easy tonight knowing you’re ok. I wish it were me though. I would take such good care of you baby.” 

“Oh yeah?” What would you do if you were here?” You snuggle down into the comforter with your box of tissues, hot tea, the humidifier and his deep soothing voice lulling you to sleep. 

It doesn’t take long before your soft snores fill the phone and Santi smiles to himself. Listening to the sounds of his love finally feeling at rest. When you wake up three hours later to throw up the light from your phone signifies a message. 

I called Frankie, he’s going to come by at 10 o’clock to take you for an appointment. I booked it online through the app. Get some rest and drink lots of fluids. I love you. - Hubby 

You smile before brushing your teeth and crawling back into the warmth of your bed and falling back to sleep, dreaming of your husband. 

Day 32 

The next morning Frankie rings the doorbell at exactly 9:45.Like all the other Delta Force guys (except Benny), they are meticulously early. You greet him with a cup of coffee with his own special airplane shaped mug, complete with his name engraved on the side. You knew that when you married Santiago, Frankie came as part of the package. 

“Hi Garcia, how ya feeling?” He wraps one arm around your shoulder and you lean into the embrace, placing your head on his arm. 

“To be completely honest Cat? I feel like shit.” 

Frankie lets out a small laugh before rubbing gentle circles on your back. “Well then let’s get you to the doctor. You got your insurance card?” 

“Yeah it’s in my bag.” You grab your brown knit bag, swinging it over your shoulder. 

“Then let’s get going.” He guides you out to his truck, helping you into the seat before running around the front to the driver's seat. 

About twenty minutes later you're pulling into the parking lot of your doctor. Frankie walks you inside helping you get signed in. It's another thirty minutes before you're put back into a room, sitting on crinkled tissue paper, Frankie reading back issues of People. The door opens and you sit up a little straighter. 

“Mrs. Garcia?” You nod. “I’m Dr. Jacobs. What can I help you with today?” 

You proceed to tell her what’s been going on and she goes through the motions, asking you all about your symptoms, checking your ears, nose, throat, and chest. When she's done she types everything into her tablet, “one more question, when was your last menstrual cycle?” 

You open your mouth to answer before closing it slowly. “When was my last...Oh. Uhm,” you laugh nervously at a loss for words, “about a month ago it should be starting any day now…” 

“Is there any chance you could be pregnant?” she asks, looking between you and Frankie. 

“Oh, he’s not my husband!” 

“I’m her husband's best friend. He’s out of the country.” 

“Well it sounds like you may have the flu but I would like to run some labs as well if that’s alright with you, and maybe a pregnancy test just to be sure?” 

You laugh. “Sure doc whatever you need, but I am not pregnant.” 

Day 35 

You swing your car haphazardly into the driveway narrowly missing a planter box and running over Mia’s pink bike. The front door slams open. Frankie is running down the driveway, yanking the car door open and pulling you into his arms. Your sobs are staining your cheeks and you're a blubbering mess. 

“Garcia! What the hell! Are you ok!?” Frankie checks you over. You shake your head frantically. 

“NO! No I am not ok!” you shout! “The test results came back!” 

“Oh god, is it bad!? Cancer? Diabetes? Fuck! Did Pope give you some kind of STD because I swear I will kick his ass for you!” 

“NO! God...no...I'm...Pregnant!” You break down in sobs and hold onto Frankie who starts to laugh. “Stop laughing! This is serious! Frankie!!” 

He chuckles squeezing you tighter, “Garcia this is wonderful! You're gonna be a mom and Santiago is going to be a daddy! Mia will have someone to play with. Fuck, I’m so happy for you guys.” You pull away to see a huge smile on his face. 

Some of his excitement rubs off on you and you rub your nose on the sleeve of your shirt before you smile, “I’m gonna be a mommy…oh shit Frankie what do I tell Santi?

“We will worry about that later. But right now let’s get you home and back to bed. You still have that cough and you need your rest.” 

Day 36 

“Hey baby. How is my favorite man?” 

“Oh Querida I miss you so much. I think I forgot how much I love being out in the field. The rush, the thrill. It’s addicting.” 

Your heart drops and for a minute you say nothing. How the hell could you tell him about the baby? He would want to come straight home and he’s loving the work.

“Everything is great here. Yeah, I got the test results yesterday from the lab and everything is normal. I just have the flu and since I’ve been off the last few days I’ve rested and drank lots of fluids and I am feeling much better.” 

“Oh good, I was so worried about you.” He sighs. “I got a new app on my phone that counts down to the second till I get to be back with you.. I love you so much Querida.” 

You bite your lip to keep from crying before letting out a shaky breath, “I love you too baby, and I can’t wait to see you soon.” 

The conversation shifts and when you hang up with your husband you shoot a quick text off to Frankie. 

Don’t mention ANYTHING about the pregnancy to Santiago. I’ll tell him when he gets home. 

What? Why? 

He loves being there and if we're going to have a baby then he's not going to be able to do this again. If I tell him you know he will just come home early. 

Ok...I still think you should tell him. You're going to need support though...he’s still going to be gone for three more months. 

Your right...Frankie...will you be my person? 

... of course. Get some sleep Garcia. 

Day 100 

Four months doesn’t seem like a long time. But when you're pregnant and missing your husband it seems like a lifetime. It had been one hundred days since Santi had left for South America and only twenty-two more days till he came home. When you did the math in your head you had become pregnant two weeks before Santi had left. Meaning you were well on your way to being a very noticeable pregnant woman. 

You had been shopping a couple times with Benny to Motherhood Maternity store to get some bigger clothes because yours refused to fit. Also a very interesting trip to Babies-R-Us where after much convincing he did not purchase the entire store for his future niece/nephew. Will had been attending your doctor and lab appointments with you. And sweet Frankie had been helping you around the house, getting groceries when you were too tired, keeping up the yard, and taking you and your dogs for walks to keep you moving. Your husband’s brothers had become your own, and you loved them for it. Only 22 more days. 

Day 120 

You're sitting at the kitchen table doing a puzzle with Will when Frankie comes in carrying takeout and a squirming Mia. He puts her down and she rushes toward you. 

“TIA GARCIA!” she screams, launching herself into your arms. 

“MIA!” you shout, squeezing her tightly before tickling her sides. She giggles before shimmying out of your lap and running to the kitchen. Coming back a moment later carefully balancing (at least as careful as a three year old can) a plate filled with watermelon to you. 

“Papa says this is for the baby,” she tells you in what could be called an attempted whisper but more like a shout. 

“Why are you whispering Mia?” 

“Papa says that I have guts to be quiet because the baby is sleeping.” She leans forward and hugs your slightly protruding belly before climbing into the kitchen chair across from you. 

You give Frankie an amused look and he smiles with a shrug before plating out the food. Pizza for them and watermelon for you. It’s all you seem to want anymore. “Oh come to mama.” You spear a piece before placing it in your mouth, moaning as the cold sweet juice goes down your throat. 

“So I’m taking you to the airport on Friday to pick up Santiago. Any ideas on how you're going to tell him?” Frankie asks, taking a large bite of pizza. 

“Well I think he’s going to know.” You gesture to your stomach, spearing another piece of melon. 

“I’ve been looking up ideas on how to tell people you're pregnant, and you could give him a jar of pasta sauce,” Will says and you all look at him like he’s nuts, “No, hear me out it’s Prego pasta sauce...get it, Prego?” 

You groan before taking another bite, “I think he’s going to notice I’m pregnant before I can even give him a jar of pasta sauce Will.” 

“Not if he doesn’t see your stomach first…” Frankie says, “what if you made a sign?” 

“A sign?” 

“Yeah like when we used to come home from a tour and the families would have signs. You could make a sign!” 

You think about it for a minute before you fall in love with the idea. You go to the office and come back with a couple poster boards you kept for work presentations. You place one in front of Mia who squeals and grabs one of the markers you provide. You get to work outlining the words and filling them in with his favorite colors blue and red. When completed, you lift it up and show it to the others.

“That’s perfect!” Frankie beams. 

“Bet you 50 bucks he cries,” Will says. 

“Deal,” they slap hands and you glare, before smiling at the two. Only two more days. 

Day 122 - Santiago Comes Home 

You feel sick, what if he doesn’t want to have a baby? Will he be mad I kept this from him? Shit, maybe this was a terrible idea. What the hell was I thinking? 

“Garcia, you need to calm down, you're making me stressed.” 

“What if he doesn’t want this? What if he is disappointed? What if-” Frankie stands up and puts his hands on your shoulders. 

“Garcia listened to me. Santiago loves you more than anything in this entire world and he is going to love this baby just as much maybe even more. He may be surprised yeah but trust me. Once he wraps his brain around it, he’s going to be ecstatic.” He pulls you in for a hug and you take a deep breath, calming your nerves. 

The constant flow of travelers does nothing to lessen your anxiety. You take a deep breath and almost choke on the smell of espresso from the nearby Starbucks. Frankie gives you one last squeeze before handing you the sign and stepping back as people flood out of the gate. 

You rise to your tiptoes in search for a familiar head of salt and pepper curls. When in a break of the crowd you see him, running in a full sprint towards you. His face split into a megawatt smile. As he gets close enough to touch, you hold up the sign. He slows down slightly as he reads and you watch the smile fade only slightly before it’s replaced by shock. 

Welcome home daddy 

He reaches forward, holding tight to the poster board and slowly lowering it, eyes transfixed at your swollen belly. Silence. His hands shake as they put the sign on the floor, his eyes never leaving you. Your heart races and you feel the urge to vomit return again before he drops to his knees. 

You wince, “Baby, your knees…” reaching down to pull him up, but he makes no move to stand, his hands coming to your stomach. Placing his lips gently over your shirt. His forehead rests against you and tears drench your shirt. The baby chooses that moment to make their presence known kicking softly against his cheek. You run your hands through his curls and he looks up at you with a watery smile and a small laugh. 

“Querida, you’re pregnant. We’re...we’re having a baby…” he sniffles and you can’t help the tears in your own eyes. “Why...why didn’t you tell me? I would have come home…”

“That’s exactly why I didn’t. You’ve been so happy these past few months and I knew you needed to do this. Yes, I was scared as hell about losing you but...I understood.” 

“I don’t deserve you,” he whispers before shakily getting to his feet and clutching you tight, his hands frame your face and he pulls you close getting lost in the kiss, “I love you...so fucking much,” he whispers putting his forehead against your own. “I love you too. I’m so glad your home… I mean the guys have been great but I’m excited to go shopping for baby stuff with you, attend my doctor appointments together, and have you bring me platefuls of watermelon.” 

He laughs pulling back, “Watermelon? Is that what you’ve been craving?” 

“Oh god yes, even talking about it makes my mouth water.” 

“If that is what you want Querida, then you can have as much as you desire,” he kisses you again. 

A cough sounds from behind and you turn to see Frankie smiling at you.  Santi reaches out to give him a slap on the back, the two conversing in Spanish. You hold your hand out and Santi latches on, never letting go as you make your way through the terminal and out to the truck. 

The world passes by in a kaleidoscope of color as Frankie drives you both home. Arriving, you thank him before leading Santi by the hand and into the house. When the door is latched behind you, he presses you into the door gently. Every touch, every caress, left you breathless. His lips warm and wet against your own. When you take a breath his tongue snakes inside and he drags you from the door, striping each other, leaving a trail of clothes to the bedroom. 

After you’ve been thoroughly fucked and your wrapped up in Santiago’s strong arms, legs intertwined together, and he’s rubbing your belly do you finally relax. Sighing into his chest, and kissing it lightly. “Your really happy about the baby?” you whisper, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between you. 

His grip around you tightens, “I promise you, I am very happy about the baby. You made me a daddy Querida. I love you...so much.” 

You sigh, “I love you too.” 

3 months later 

Eight months of pregnancy has flown by. After Santi got home from Columbia he took over doing everything. Attending your appointments together, buying and building things for the nursery, and bringing you platefuls of watermelon at all times of the day and night. Santiago takes the roll of daddy very seriously. All of those year in the military have come into play the last few months as he has transformed your house into a fortress. God help anyone that tries to hurt you or your unborn daughter. 

It started small with a few extra cameras on the perimeter, then installing a new indoor security system. A new fence was put up around the pool two months ago, and most recently the baby monitors set up throughout the house. He was beginning to drive you a little insane and you honestly just wanted him to lay off a bit. The perfect opportunity arose one fateful morning during breakfast. 

“So I’ve been thinking Querida, how do you feel about putting carpet on the floor of the nursery?” 

Part 2: Carpet (If you haven’t read it, check it out!)

Day 15: Just Walk Away- Ezra (Prospect) 

[nicknellie]

Anonymous requested: Julie’s not at school and Luke worries and fakes being sick to the nurse to leave and go to Julie’s and finds her in pain because her monthly visitor is ripping her stomach apart.

CW for periods and sickness - they have been tagged, but just to be on the safe side.

Code Red

It was not in Luke Patterson’s nature to worry. He simply wasn’t an anxious person. He didn’t panic about getting in trouble, he didn’t stress about exams, he never worried about consequences (which had earned him more than one trip to Accident and Emergency over the years). There was, however, one exception to Luke’s Unofficial No Worry Rule.

The exception was Julie Molina.

Luke worried about Julie so much that it made up for him not worrying about anything else. He worried about whether or not she was eating enough or drinking enough water; he worried when he hadn’t heard from her in more than half an hour; he worried when he hadn’t seen her smile or heard her laugh in five minutes; he worried when she worried.

And right now, Luke was very worried.

“Look,” Alex said exasperatedly as Luke scanned the hallway for the fifth time. “I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about, she’s probably just running late.”

Reggie nodded in agreement. “Yeah. Wouldn’t she have said something if she wasn’t going to be in today?”

“I don’t know,” Luke said frustratedly, trying to look over the crowd, jumping with his hands on Alex’s shoulders for leverage. “Maybe. This has never happened before!”

It was only very early in the day – they hadn’t even had their first lesson – but Luke was panicking because he hadn’t seen Julie yet. Usually she was in before him and he’d find her by her locker, but when he had arrived there that morning she hadn’t been there. In his head he knew there probably was nothing to worry about, but his heart felt heavy and nervous with the dread of wondering where she was.

Luke checked his phone again. He had texted Julie almost two dozen times (a rarity, seeing as Luke hardly ever used his phone) but she hadn’t responded even once. He was starting to get extremely concerned.

At that moment, the bell rang and Luke, Reggie, and Alex made their way to their first lesson. It was music, which usually Luke would try his best in – music tended to be the only lesson he really put much effort into – but the only thing on his mind was Julie. The moment he walked into the music room, he asked Mrs Harrison if she had any idea where Julie was but she didn’t. Try as he might, he couldn’t focus on Mrs Harrison’s lecture on music theory at all throughout the lesson. He couldn’t help but continuously check his phone and count down the minutes until break time when he’d hunt down Flynn and find out if she knew anything.

Break time arrived after two hours which felt more like two decades. Luke sprinted through the corridors (accidentally knocking over two people, calling lazy apologies over his shoulder as he ran) to where Flynn’s locker was. He found her there, alone, picking up some textbooks.

Flynn looked up, bewildered, at the sound of his heavy footfalls. She smiled when she saw that it was him. “Hey Luke, what’s up?”

“Where’s Julie?” he asked. It wasn’t the politest of ways to start a conversation – later he would feel bad about it and think that he probably should have opened with a nice greeting or asking how Flynn was – but he couldn’t help it if he wanted to know why the light of his life had disappeared off the face of the Earth.

Flynn frowned and dug her phone from the pocket of her dungarees. Her frown only deepened when she looked at it.

“I don’t know,” she told Luke, shrugging. “I texted her this morning but she hasn’t replied to me yet.”

Luke ran a hand through his hair and cast a glance around the hallway, hoping Julie would appear out of thin air. “Has she ever done this before? Just not shown up to school?”

Flynn shook her head. “You know Julie. She’s a star pupil – the last time she even cut class was last year when I didn’t wake her up for school the morning after the dance.”

Luke huffed, checked his phone again, saw there still was no message. He missed Julie. He wanted to know that she was alright. He wanted to know why she wasn’t replying to either him or Flynn. He wanted to make sure she was safe.

So he decided that he would find out for himself.

“You know,” he said to Flynn, “I’m suddenly feeling kind of sick. I think I might head to the nurse’s office. I probably need to go home.”

Flynn raised a judgemental eyebrow at him as he slowly backed away, a grin on his face.

“You’re really going to skip school just to check on Julie?” she called after him.

“That’s the plan,” he called back.

Five minutes later, Luke was sat in the nurse’s office, clutching his stomach and groaning as if he was in immense pain. Luke was good at pretending to be sick – he had done it whenever his mother had suggested going on a shopping trip when he was little.

He allowed the nurse to prod at his stomach, look down his throat, even shine a light inside his ear, and when she was done she sat back, brow furrowed.

“I’m sorry, Luke,” she said, “but I really don’t know what’s causing your stomach pains. I can call your mom or dad to pick you up and take you to the doctor’s if you’d like?”

Luke shook his head, coughing a little for effect. “No, they’re both working. They won’t be able to come and get me.”

“Well, you can stay here for the rest of the day instead of going back to class,” she suggested.

“I could drive myself home,” Luke said, trying not to sound too perky at the prospect. “My car is in the parking lot and I don’t live too far away, I’m sure I can make it.”

The nurse frowned. “You’re in a lot of pain, Luke, I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“What if you gave me some painkillers?” he suggested, placing a hand over his stomach. “Once the pain stops I should be alright to drive, right?”

The nurse looked at him appraisingly. “Are you sure you’ll be able to make it? I don’t want you to overexert yourself.”

Luke nodded slowly, then gave another pathetic cough. “I’ll be alright. I swear.”

Half-reluctantly, the nurse got out of her seat and opened up a high cupboard, digging around amongst everything for some painkillers. While her back was turned, Luke quickly checked his phone – he still hadn’t got anything back from Julie, even after sixty-two messages. It was a good thing he was going to check in on her, he thought.

The nurse handed Luke some paracetamol and a cup of water to swallow them down with. He didn’t actually take them, just held them under his tongue and swallowed just the water to make it look like he had. The nurse made him stay in the office for another half hour to make sure they kicked in properly before he was finally released and able to start Mission Make Sure Julie Is Okay.

In his car, he spat the painkillers out and then started his engine, pulling out of the car park onto the street and heading not in the direction of his own house but towards Julie’s. The drive to Julie’s house was a lot shorter than to his, so five minutes later he pulled the car into the driveway and hopped out.

He wondered what the best way to approach the situation was. He toyed with the idea of climbing up the wall and knocking on her window like some prince in a fairy-tale, come to rescue his princess. He even got as far as staring at the wall, looking for crevices he could use as handholds. However, he decided that with his luck he would probably manage to fall off the wall, and that could give him a real reason to not be in school.

Instead, he simply walked up the paved pathway to the Molinas’ house and let himself in without so much as knocking. Had it been anybody else’s house (except maybe Alex or Reggie’s) it would have been an unthinkably rude thing to do, but Julie’s father Ray insisted that Luke and the other boys were all family and they could come and go as they pleased. Luke wondered if that offer extended to hours that they should have been in school but were skipping it to check that Julie was alright.

Probably not.

“Julie?” he called, toeing his shoes off at the front door. “Are you home?”

He made his way through the ground floor of the house, looking into every room and calling Julie’s name, but didn’t get a response anywhere. Well, not from Julie at least.

“Luke?” said Ray in bewilderment, heading down the stairs and finding Luke yelling after Julie in the kitchen. “What are you doing here?”

“Julie isn’t in school,” Luke said simply.

Ray nodded. “Yeah, I know that. But why aren’t you?”

“Because Julie’s not,” Luke said, confused. Hadn’t he just explained that very same thing?

Ray shook his head exasperatedly and headed over to the kitchen sink, turning the hot tap on. He held a hot water bottle underneath it, and turned to look at Luke as it filled up.

“Julie’s fine, Luke,” Ray said reassuringly. “You don’t need to worry. Why don’t you head back to school, huh?”

“I can’t,” Luke said. “The nurse sent me home.”

“Are you sick?”

“No. I wanted to see Julie.”

Ray rolled his eyes but Luke saw that there was a smile playing about his lips.

“Of course,” Ray said, fond exasperation in his eyes. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

He turned the tap off and screwed the plug back into the hot water bottle. He pulled the cover over it and handed it to Luke. He took it, but wondered why anyone would need a hot water bottle on a day like this when it was perfectly warm outside.

“Give that to Julie,” Ray instructed. “She’s in her room. You can go and see her, but don’t be surprised if she’s in a bad mood. Usual rules – door stays open, stay where I can see you.”

Luke nodded gratefully and hurried up the staircase, heading to Julie’s room. He gently pushed the door open and squinted into the darkness that greeted him. Julie’s main lights were turned off and her curtains were drawn, the only light in the room coming from some electric blue fairy-lights draped over the headboard of her bed. The floor was scattered with candy wrappers, her bedside table had a thousand empty mugs piled on it, and on the bed was a mound of pillows and blankets.

The mound of pillows and blankets moved.

Oh, Luke realised, the mound was Julie!

He moved slowly and quietly to the edge of the bed and crouched down beside it.

“Julie,” he whispered. “Are you sick?”

There was a muffled groan from the mound of pillows, a moment or two where the blankets shuffled and moved around, and then the top half of Julie’s face poked out from beneath. Her eyes were foggy with sleep, but she still managed to convey a look of upmost puzzlement to Luke.

“No, I’m not sick,” she said, voice slowed by sleep and muffled by her duvet. “What are you doing here?”

“You weren’t in school,” Luke said. He would have thought that much was obvious.

“Yes,” Julie replied, “but that doesn’t answer my question.”

“You weren’t replying to my messages, or Flynn’s. I was worried about you. Oh,” he said, remembering the hot water bottle that Ray had given him, “your dad said to give this to you.”

Julie accepted the hot water bottle gratefully and Luke watched her tuck it under the covers so it joined her in her pillow pile.

“So if you’re not sick then why aren’t you in school?” Luke asked her.

She raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t it obvious?”

Luke just stared back blankly.

Julie sighed haggardly. “You know, the Red Sea? Bloody Mary? Aunt Flo is visiting? Code Red?”

Luke blinked in confusion. “Since when did we have a code system?”

Julie sighed frustratedly and rubbed a tired hand over her eyes. Luke thought he heard her mutter something that sounded a lot like ‘Lord, give me strength’. She took her hand away from her face and fixed him with a flat look.

“It’s my period, Luke.”

He looked around at the room, re-evaluating the darkness and the candy wrappers and the hot water bottle he’d given her and then let out a long, “Ohhh,” as he finally realised what was going on.

He gently reached out his hand and brushed a few strands of hair away from Julie’s face. She closed her eyes at the touch and sighed softly.

“Is there anything I can do?” Luke asked. “Can I get you anything? Oh, I should have kept the painkillers the nurse gave me…”

Julie’s eyes opened and she looked at Luke suspiciously. “Why did the nurse give you painkillers?”

“I had to find some way of getting out of school,” he said.

Julie shook her head in a way that might have seemed irritated if she hadn’t been smiling ever so slightly. “You’re an idiot.”

He grinned. “I’m your idiot.”

“Don’t remind me.”

Despite her words, Julie’s hand shuffled its way out of the covers and she scrabbled around until she found Luke’s where it was resting on the mattress. He intertwined their fingers and gently stroked his thumb over her knuckles. Julie smiled just a little bit wider.

“Is there anything I can do?” Luke repeated.

“You could go back to school and get an education,” Julie returned, though her hand held tighter to his as she said it. “I’ll be fine, Luke.”

“No,” he said. “I’m going to stay here and take care of my wonderful girlfriend because she deserves it. Also I don’t think the nurse will let me back in.”

Julie rolled her eyes fondly. “Fine. If you insist on staying, there’s chocolate in the cupboard in the kitchen. Bring it here, please.”

Luke smiled, pressed a light kiss to Julie’s hand before standing up and beginning to back out of the room. “You got it. I’ll be one moment.”

“Luke, wait!” Julie called. He stopped in his tracks, concerned. Julie looked the slightest bit embarrassed. “Can I have a hug first?”

He grinned. “Of course.”

Luke headed back towards Julie’s bed as she heaved herself into a sitting position, wincing slightly. He sat beside her and wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. She tucked her head into the gap between his shoulder and neck, her arms lazily drooped around him. Luke ran his fingers through the ends of her hair. She was warm to the touch from her hot water bottle and blankets.

“Thank you for checking on me,” she said quietly.

“Always, Julie,” Luke said. He gently kissed the top of her head. “Anything for you.”

[cheeriecherry]

Space Between [Aizawa Shouta x F!Reader x Yamada Hizashi] [4/9]

EraserMic x Reader

Part 4/8

Warnings: some descriptions of violence, therapy/doctor visit, some kiss

When Shouta and Hizashi wake up the next day, it’s to the smell of cooking food.

Unable to stay asleep, you’d given up and decided to be more productive with your time. You knew it was pretty rare for them to have time for breakfast, so you worked quickly to pull something appetizing together.

In any case, they both seemed to appreciate it, sipping their coffees and savouring the warmth of home made food.

“This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten,” Hizashi says, mouth full of food.

Shouta mumbles at him to stop being rude, but you just laugh, “You’ve still got the same shitty tastebuds, ‘zashi.”

It earns a smile from both your friends, but the blond does make an effort to swallow before speaking again.

“So, what’s on your agenda today, sweetcheeks?”

It takes you a second to realize he’s talking to you, and not Shouta. Though you can’t imagine such a nickname for him, it’s still been a while since either of your friends have called you anything but your name. It’s a nice change, even if the way he says it makes your face heat up.

“Not much, actually,” you say, pushing an egg around your plate, “I have an appointment with the doctor at one, and I’ve got some sheets to fill out beforehand. I think I’m gonna put my energy into that, instead of trying to get a bunch of things done.”

You don’t miss the way Shouta perks up slightly, even though he doesn’t say anything. Hizashi, on the other hand, almost looks deflated.

“That’s so...grown up,” he mumbles.

Shouta sighs. “He means boring.”

“I know, Sho.”

“Why don’t you do something fun, too?” the blond continues, “Go shopping, get lunch, see the city, y’know?”

You mind flashes momentarily to the day before, and the catastrophe that had been the mall, and you cringe. “Yeah, after yesterday, I think I’m gonna limit my public appearances.”

And then you remember you’d never told either of them about your eventful afternoon.

“What happened yesterday?”

You groan quietly, and run a hand down your face. This wasn’t the conversation you wanted to have right now, but you supposed you brought it upon yourself. They wouldn’t let you off the hook, that was for sure.

“I...hand a panic attack at the mall. Crowds, and stuff.”

Hizashi eyes you suspiciously. “What else happened?”

“It’s fine,” you insist, “it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“Y/N…”

Annoyance bubbles in your chest, and you snap, “It’s fine! Just some kid who tried to scare me. I’ve got it, so let it go.”

You’re all quiet for a moment, and you droop, pushing your plate away.

“I’m sorry,” you tell them, truthfully.

“Sweetheart, it’s okay-”

“It’s not okay! I shouldn’t be taking my frustration out on you guys, especially not after everything you’ve done for me.”

Like put them in danger.

“The mission I went on was just so...so…”

They know where I am. They already sent someone after me, remember?

“Stressful, I guess?”

The people I love are going to end up dead.

Shouta reaches across the table to brush his fingertips against yours, a small notion of comfort and support. “We get it, Y/N. That’s why I gave you that list in the first place.”

It’ll be my fault.

Hizashi takes your other hand, rubbing soothing patterns into your skin. “Yeah, honey. No matter what, we’re always gonna be here for you.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, avoiding their gazes, and trying to push your thoughts down. But they’re loud, and they fill you with so much fear you can barely breathe.

Their devotion to me will get them killed.

“You…”

It’ll be my fault. Again.

In a quick motion, you tear away from their grasps and jump out of your chair, skittering a few feet back. “You shouldn’t promise things like that so blindly!” you cry, tucking your arms tightly against your body.

“Y/N-”

“No! You have no idea what kind of people I have after me! Letting me stay here is putting you guys in enough danger, I don’t need you fighting by my side!”

Shouta stands slowly from his seat, coming around the table quietly and making sure he doesn’t leave your line of sight. He manages to get about two feet from you before you’re shrinking away again, like some kind of frightened deer.

“You don’t deserve to die for me. And I certainly don’t deserve to have people like you on my rotten side.”

He reaches for you again, but you skirt around him and weasel away to the bathroom, where you shut the door and lock it.

You don’t bother turning the light on, opting to stay in the dark where no one can see you and you can’t see yourself. You can see your friends’ shadows under the door, hear their low voices, and you sink to the floor with tear filled eyes.

You hear one of them sit on the other side of the door, and it’s Shouta that speaks, “Y/N...whatever you think is going to happen to us, it won’t.”

You sniffle pathetically. “You have no idea how much power these people have. They kill pros all the time. All the time, Shouta.”

Hizashi says something from a few feet away, but his voice is muffled by the sound of your heart beating in your ears. Your friends talk back and forth for a moment, clipped and worried, and guilt washes over you.

I’m making them worry. Over nothing. They don’t deserve this.

A quiet knock on the door startles you. “You there still?” Shouta asks.

“Mhm…”

“Okay. I’m...I’m going to stay home with you today. Make sure you get to your appointment.”

Like a snap, you go from frightened, to frustrated and patronized. “I’m not a child! I don’t need someone to hold my hand everywhere I go! I’m fine!”

“Kitten, you’re hiding in the bathroom because you think people are after you.”

“People are after me, they made their message very clear! But it’s my battle to fight, and one I refuse to bring you two into. I’m going to do this on my own, appointment included.”

You’re all quiet for a bit, nothing but the sound of your own breathing in the lonely dark room. But a sigh eventually emanates from the other side of the door, and when Shouta speaks he sounds remarkably sad, “...we can’t force you to accept our help. But know that we’re here for you, whenever you need us. Always.”

You don’t reply to him, instead tucking your knees up to your chest while you finally let tears escape down your cheeks.

You remain like that until the sun comes up and floods the room with light, long after your friends have locked up and gone off to work.

----

You drum your fingertips against your thigh while you sit in the waiting room at the clinic. There weren’t many other people there with you, and all of them were more interested in their phones, but you couldn’t help feeling watched.

After your friends had left the house, you’d shamefully slinked out of the bathroom and back over to the couch. You knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep again, not without missing your appointment, so you’d set your energy into completing the needed forms.

Self assessments, symptom tracking records, confidentiality agreements, the like. It felt incredibly strange to be so honest about what you were going through, and a little piece of you wanted to lie and say you were okay, but logically you knew you’d get the best care if you told the truth.

You glance up at the front desk, where a receptionist is typing at her computer. Then, you glance at the clock on the wall. You were early, and though you’d only been in the building for five minutes it felt like time was dragging on.

You pull your phone out of your pocket with a shaky hand and open the news sites you’d been frequenting since coming home. You never found any updates on them, but they were the most reliable places you had access to, and-

You pause when a new article pops up.

‘Five suspects convicted after ties connecting them to drug trafficking, uncovered. Sixth suspect remains unfound.’

Your stomach sinks at the headline, and you click on the article.

‘Five individuals have been apprehended and sentenced after their involvement with one of the world’s largest international drugs trades is brought to light. Evidence strongly supports the presence of a sixth villain, though they remain elusive to the forces trying to bring them in.

A public warning has been issued, urging citizens and heroes to report any kind of suspicious activity…’

You stop reading after the first paragraph, staring blankly at your phone. So one of them had gotten away, just like you were worried about, and you had a pretty good idea of which one. The most wily of all six of them, and arguably the most dangerous. Smart, manipulative, a taste for violence.

Your heart rate begins to pick up, and you swallow the lump forming in your throat. If she was able to get away, then she knew she’d had people coming to get her, which meant she’d had information leaked to her, which possibly meant other information had been leaked alongside it, which meant-

An aura of unnatural calm washes over you, just as a woman comes to stand in front of you. You look up at her slowly, eyes wide and scared, but all she does is smile down at you.

“Miss Y/N?” she asks, and you nod. She offers a hand to you, which you politely take, and she gently pulls you to your feet. “I’m Nurse Himeno, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I apologize for using my quirk on you. You looked like you were having a hard time breathing.”

“It’s...fine.” Your tone is carefully devoid of any emotion, though the feeling of the womans’ hand in yours sends electric spikes up your arm.

“I’m a member of the daytime staff here,” she explains, leading you down a warm hallway lined with doors. “I handle patients who struggle with anxiety, be it chronic or trauma related. Since this is your first appointment here, the on staff physician, Doctor Masaki, will be seeing you today, to determine which programs will best fit your needs. Is that alright with you?”

You nod again, mumbling a quiet affirmation.

The two of you stop in front of a door, and Himeno ushers you inside. It’s...different than you imagined it would be; cozy and warm, with dim lighting, soft carpet, and pleasant artworks on the walls.

“Please take a seat, Miss Y/N. I’ll return shortly.”

You do as you’re told, sitting on the very edge of an overly plush chair. The calmness you’d felt slowly begins to fade, and your leg starts vibrating, thoughts beginning to race again.

You had to assume that the missing villain knew your location, as well as your involvement with the takedown of her subordinates. She’d be angry, furious, that she’d let you slip away. She wouldn’t be thinking straight.

If you could find a way to take advantage of that, she might be prone to rushing into things, to messing up and letting something slip. If you could catch her at unawares, you could have the upper hand...you could have a chance at beating her, before she got the chance to use her quirk.

It meant you’d most likely have to seek her out, ask around the local underground scene and see if anyone had any information on her. It would be risky, especially given your current state, but it would likely be your only opportunity. You’d have to keep it from Shouta and Hizashi, too, knowing that they’d try and stop you-

A wave of calm rushes over you again, and your thoughts stop in their tracks. Seconds later, Nurse Himeno and a woman you’re assuming is Doctor Masaki walk into the room.

“Good afternoon, Miss Y/N,” the doctor says, greeting you pleasantly before taking a seat across from you. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise,” you reply.

She taps at the tablet in her hand, scrolling around until she finds what she’s looking for. “I’ve reviewed the forms you submitted earlier today, regarding the symptoms you’re struggling with. Do you mind if we go over them?”

You nod.

“Alright. So...trouble sleeping, nightmares, intrusive thoughts, flashbacks, panic attacks...is there anything else on the list you weren’t able to mention?”

You slouch back in the chair, thinking to earlier in the day. “Agitation...uh, paranoia, I think. Guilt. I have trouble functioning sometimes, too. Like, today was the first time i showered all week, and I didn’t eat breakfast…”

“Why not?”

“...I was hiding in the bathroom.”

Doctor Masaki makes a few notes, and you idly pinch at the skin on your knuckles.

“Do you have any idea what may have triggered these kinds of responses? Trauma, a stressful event…?”

“Yeah.”

You’re both quiet for a moment, before she says, “I need to know what it is, dear.”

You fluster for a second, thoughts jumbled momentarily. “Oh- um. Okay, so. I was undercover for two and a half years...”

You go on to fully explain your situation, going into uncomfortable detail about the things you’d done and the things you’d witnessed, the things you were now dealing with, and your fears and stresses about the entire ordeal, including the recent arrests and villain misplacements.

“...and now I think one of them is here and out to get me, which is illogical, I know, but I’m so high strung all the time and I’m sick of having to constantly look over my shoulder, and wonder if I’ll come home to find the people I love dead!”

The calming aura surrounding you grows stronger, and though you try to fight it, you eventually let it be and fall back into your chair. All the while, the doctor makes more notes in what you assume is your case file.

“It sounds like a rough time,” she says, “Exhausting, too. It’s no wonder you’re experiencing so many symptoms; you’ve been through a lot.”

You twiddle your thumbs, waiting for her to continue.

“I think solo sessions would be a good place to start, twice a week, as well as some low dose medications to help you manage your anxiety and sleep. Does that sound agreeable?”

You shrug, not really knowing the answer. “Whatever you think is best, I guess…”

You talk a little bit more about private therapy and what sorts of things will happen there, as well as what kinds of medications you’re to start on. By the end of it when you’re leaving, prescription in hand, you’re beyond tired. Physically. Emotionally. Mentally.

You take a deep breath when you exit the building, letting the familiar smells of the city ground you.

You’d taken the train to the clinic earlier, but now you’re not sure you could manage being in such cramped quarters with other people (you barely handled it the first time). The walk home would take an extra fifteen minutes, but you were willing to foot that if it meant you wouldn’t have another panic attack.

----

Ten minutes later found you regretting your decision.

You hadn’t taken into account the fact that the train had an entirely different route than the one you needed to walk in order to get home, meaning you were smack dab in the middle of a run down neighborhood. Normally it wouldn’t bother you; you knew that most places like this held no danger.

But in your years working as a hero, this particular place had been notorious for mischief and small time villain activity. Sure, it was daytime, and you were physically capable of defending yourself, but the back of your mind was still on edge.

Keep your head low, walk fast, don’t make conversation, you think, speeding up your paces ever so slightly. You couldn’t see anyone on the street ahead of you, nor in the alleyways as you pass them...

You slow your steps again, hearing the soft echo of boots behind you. It was only a fraction of a second before the person matched your footsteps again, but it was enough time for you to know.

As you pass the next building, you dart into the narrow walkway beside it and find a place against the wall. Shortly after, a strikingly familiar hooded figure follows in suit, and you lunge.

Their back hits the brick with a thud, and they gasp as the air is forced out of their chest. You twist your fist in their sweater, pushing hard against their collarbone to hold them in place.

“Why are you following me!” you hiss, glaring up and down at the teen. Same as the other day, they’re in dark baggy clothes. The only difference is the grey mask covering the top half of their face, which is slightly askew from their struggling.

“What the hell, lady-”

“Cut the bullshit, you threatened me the other day, and now you’re tailing me. What do you want?”

They squirm for a couple more seconds, but eventually give up and slump against the wall. They looked tired, and a little nervous, but then so were you.

“You should keep your ears open, lady. You’re Y/N, right?”

You’re silent, and press them a little harder into the wall.

“Geez, you’re even more wound up than the other day! Relax, I’m not here on her behalf. I’m here to warn you!”

“What the fuck does that mean,” you hiss.

“I’m a vigilante!”

“Bullshit.”

“I swear!” by now they’re looking a little uncomfortable, and their breathing is slightly laboured. “I go by Oracle.”

You pause, then, grip loosening ever so slightly. You’d heard that name before, multiple times, from people who’ve complained over the years about a kid and their freaky quirk. One of the other names you’ve heard them called is Ill Omen, a messenger of death.

It’s bad news, if they’ve sought you out.

“Let’s pretend I believe you,” you say. “If you are who you say you are, then you know something. Tell me. Now.”

“If you could let me breathe-”

You release them, and they gasp for a few moments against the wall, rubbing the new undeniable bruise on their chest. They only take a few seconds of respite before they’re standing up again, staring at you with intense sincerity.

It’s a little unnerving.

“Like I said, I go by Oracle. My quirk lets me see the future, but only specific parts of it. And I don’t have control over whose futures I see-”

You roll your eyes. “I know who you are, kid. You see people’s deaths, and warn them about it.”

“Ehh…” the kid shrugs. “Close enough. Anyways, you. You have some powerful enemies, don’t you?”

“Assuming they know my identity and whereabouts, yes.”

“Best assume, then. In two weeks -I think- you’re going to die. A lot of people are. At the hands of a woman who calls herself Akuma.”

Your blood runs cold. Of course you’d assumed she would be the one to hunt you down, she was the only one of your targets who escaped capture, but hearing it spoken out loud has a much stronger effect than you’d expected. As if suddenly...the threat was real.

“Where?” you ask, “And what time of day?”

Oracle shrugs again, stuffing their hands in their pockets. “I...don’t know exactly. There were tall buildings, highrises, and a lot of people caught in the crossfire, so it was pretty busy.”

“That’s most of Japan.”

“That’s what I’m saying! Look, I only see the moments before a person dies, a couple seconds at most. I have to rely on visual cues in order to get the specifics.”

You step away from them, and start pacing around the alleyway. If their timeline was correct, then Akuma would already be in the country, no doubt. But if you still had some time before she struck, then it was likely she didn’t know your exact location. She wasn’t a patient person; if she had your whereabouts now, you’d already be dead.

I’m safe, for now. Shouta and Hizashi…

“Is there anything at all that you saw that could tip us off to a time?”

Oracle watches you walk back and forth. “I- there was a flyer in a shop window, dated two weeks from now, like I said. But I don’t know if that was the time it was happening, not for certain.”

You sigh deeply. Not certain, but certainly something.

“Can I know how I die?” you ask, quieter now. “I mean, I have a hunch, but…”

They scrunch their face up, in a way between disgust and a frown. “It’s kind of like. Akuma secretes this kind of...sludge? It looks like tar, reeks of despair-”

“-chokes the victim and makes them hallucinate while they drown. Yeah, I figured. Fuck, of all the ways to go.” Your mind dwells back to your partner while you were undercover, the only person you’d ever seen escape Akuma’s grasp.

Only to get a gunshot to the head.

Oracle takes a tentative step towards you, reaching out for a moment and then thinking better of it. They seem sympathetic, in a way, concerned, even though you’re a total stranger.

“Is it...not possible to escape?” They ask.

“It...is. Technically.” You turn to her, “The way Akuma’s quirk works is vile. Yes it causes hallucinations, and yes you suffocate if you’re under her control for too long, but it’s how she keeps her targets subdued.”

“How?”

“The tar she makes has a special property. As it soaks into the skin and overtakes you, it destroys the will to live. And it’s mighty hard to fight your way out of her clutches when you don’t see a reason to. You need a lot of willpower. And stubbornness.”

You fist a hand in your hair, and tug. You weren’t the kind of person who could get away from her. Maybe you used to be, but now? Now, you’re all but a ghost of the person you used to be, or a shell of the person you could become again. But not right now, you were too damaged, too weak.

You glance at Oracle. “I should go. Thanks for the heads up, kid.”

They reach out for you as you walk past them and back onto the street, barely missing the sleeve of your shirt. “Wait! If you want to live, you have to stay away from her-”

“Oracle...kid. You can’t save everyone. You’ve done your part, and where I go from here is up to me.”

“And where exactly is that?”

You don’t miss the frustration in their voice, but you pay it no mind.

“I don’t know.”

----

You startle at the sound of the front door closing, looking over from your spot on the couch. Some mediocre netflix show is playing quietly on the TV, but you hadn’t really been paying attention to it, too lost in thought.

Hizashi wanders into the room a couple seconds later, looking deceptively pleasant considering the way the day had started. He smiles at you from across the room, and tosses his jacket over the back of the couch, coming around to find a seat beside you.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he says softly, and you can’t help but smile.

“Hey ‘zashi. Where’s Shouta?”

“Late patrol. He should be home by midnight.”

You both fall quiet after that. Neither one of you want to address the tired atmosphere of the room. Neither one of you really want to bring up what happened earlier in the day. You certainly don’t want to talk about your visit from Oracle. But…

“Sorry I don’t have dinner ready today,” you begin, “I...kind of had a long day. I’ve been distracted since I got home.”

Hizashi rearranges himself on the couch, getting more comfortable as he turns to face you. “You had your appointment today, right? How’d it go?”

For a moment, you contemplate not telling him everything, of sparing him the details and only mentioning your appointment. You knew that wasn’t fair, though, and if you were going to get anywhere and improve, you had to let people in. And your best friends would be your first choice.

“It went okay. Doctor was nice, place was tidy. I’ve definitely got some kind of PTSD, but I’m pretty sure you guys already knew that.”

“Just a little.”

You shove him gently, a smile gracing your lips. It soon fades, though, giving way to the downtrodden expression you’d been wearing most of the afternoon.

“It’s actually not the doctor I’m stressing over,” you say, chewing on your lip. “Hizashi, I…”

You pause, taking a shaky breath. Hizashi leans closer, some inkling of youthful hope gleaming behind his eyes. You don’t know what he wants you to say, but the next words out of your mouth certainly aren’t it.

“I met someone today.”

You can physically see him deflate.

“That’s not what I thought you were going to say.”

You watch him carefully, wanting to ask what it was. Ask him anything, anything to get away from the conversation you’re about to have. “Have you ever heard of the vigilante called Oracle?”

All at once, his posture stiffens, and a wrinkle forms in between his pinched brows. He’s smart, you know he is, and you know he’s already figured it out. “The kid who predicts people’s deaths. You met with them?”

“They sought me out.”

“That’s even worse!”

He clearly stressed now, starting to fidget and pluck at the loose threads on his jeans. His gaze is focused on something far away, as the gears turn in his head.

“Please, please tell me they didn’t-”

“Two weeks from now,” you supply bitterly.

“Y/N…”

He looks heartbroken, like he wants to throw up and cry at the same time. You don’t blame him. If you were in his position, you’d be throwing a fit by now, trying to find ways to fix it, to make sure he was safe.

“Well, then maybe this is a good thing,” he says, ever the optimist. “You have a heads up. You can avoid-”

“No.”

He looks at you like you’ve grown a second head, anger bubbling in his expression. “What do you mean ‘no’? Y/N, if you’re going to die, and you can get out of it-”

“Not for long!” You wince at the volume of your voice, shoving off the couch to pace around the living room. “Do you know who kills me, Hizashi? Akuma.”

“Who?”

“Akuma! She was my...boss, of sorts. While I was undercover. She escaped arrest. Oracle told me that I get caught in her quirk. I’ve only ever known one person who escaped it, and he’s dead.”

You come to a stop in front of him, slouched slightly, tears welled up in your eyes. “She’s so strong, ‘zashi. Unstoppable. Deadly.”

He stands up off the couch, taking up most of your personal space, but he doesn’t seem to care. “We can stop her. We’re heroes, it’s what we do. It might not be easy, but if we get the city on alert-”

“It’ll only delay her,” you shake your head, “She thrives in the underground world. She’s got connections. If I don’t face her now, I’m going to spend the rest of my life running.”

“But at least you’ll be alive!”

You’re both surprised and not, to see him lose his cool like that. He grips your shoulders tightly, holding you in place. “You can’t just give up and let yourself get taken down! Just because some kid says you’re gonna die, now you gotta? It was a warning, Y/N, a blessing, to get you to stay away!”

“I never said I was gonna throw my life away!”

“That’s exactly what confronting Akuma is!”

“It’s not!” You glare up at him, refusing to soften over the tears and desperation on his face, refusing to back down to his fears and worries. “I’m sick of always looking over my shoulder! I’m sick of being afraid, and angry, and tired, all the time! If doing this means I might get my freedom back, means I might win, then I’m doing it.”

“Or,” he spits, “you’ll end up dead.”

“Well, either way, it’s my life! And my choice!”

You move to shove him away, shake him off of you, but he only pulls you close and crushes you in a hug. He holds you tighter than you think he ever has, his fingers digging almost painfully into your skin where he grips you. You don’t even realize he’s crying, until a pathetic sniffle sounds in your ear.

“Please,” he whispers, voice wet and trembling. “Sweetheart, please. Sho and I...we thought we lost you once already. Please don’t do this.”

Slowly, you snake your arms around him, returning the gesture in a more gentle manner. Your own eyes water uncontrollably as you bury your face in his shoulder, dripping onto his shirt.

“I’m going to face her,” you say.

“Y/N, Oracle’s visions-”

“-Are a warning. I know when Akuma is going to strike, and I’ll be ready. Hizashi, I promise.”

He pulls back slightly, releasing you from his hold enough so that he can rest his forehead against yours, and for a moment, your feelings for him resurface. His soft breath fanning across your face, his thumbs rubbing slow circles into your arms. You want to tell him more than ever now, how you feel about him. If you were going to die, you couldn’t bear something like that being unspoken.

“‘Zashi, I need to tell you something else.”

Your gazes connect, then, his eyes piercing and swimming with so many emotions. Your words die in your throat, lost in the moment. The moment where there is no Akuma, no impending death...just the two of you, holding each other close, silently sharing the love you feel for one another.

He looks so tired, so scared, but behind it all there is a fierce determination and a fiery hope.

If you’re going to die, you don’t want those words left unspoken.

“I-”

But he already knows what you're going to say, so he cups your face, and cuts you off with a kiss.

[nothing-but-dreamy]

QUARANTINE

Pairing: FFXV!NYX ULRIC x MALE!READER

Words: 2.140

Warnings: fluff

A/N: @slowkib - here you go :) I hope you like it. Thanks for this request

A/N II: This is a loosely sequel to MESSAGES. So, if you wanna know how these two have met, you can catch up on it but it's not necessary :)

Synopsis: Yn got hit by a virus what means he and Nyx have to be quarantined. But Nyx finds a way to 'sweeten' the time for YN to recover quickly.

Nyx and YN were dating for a few months and so, YN’s sister was determined to meet the man who had stolen her brother’s heart like a thief with the promise to never give it back. She stayed over the weekend. Two whole days, all three had a lot of fun together. YN was happy to see how good Nyx and his sister got along and all too fast, the time was over again and YN’s sister had to go back home.

While Nyx cleaned up a few plates and glasses, he looked at YN who had a content smile on his lips even if he seemed to be a bit pale, “Your sister is nice. I like her.”

“I'm happy to hear that because she already loves you. She threatened me to treat you right or else she would ... Well… trust me, I wouldn't have a good life anymore.”, YN said and coughed softly.

Nyx blinked several times, staring at YN, disbelieving that his boyfriend, a skilled fighter and great soldier of the royal Kingsglaive, would be intimidated by his sister who was two heads shorter than he was, "You... She can threaten you? I mean, for real?", Nyx asked amused.

"Always had, always will. She might be younger and smaller than me but she can be a beast if she wants.", YN answered with a grin, remembering what kind of troublemaker she had been in their childhood.

"Good to know.", Nyx said grinning.

"Don't you dare to-", but YN stopped as a coughing attack prevented him from speaking further.

Concerned, Nyx laid his hand on YN’s shoulder, checking on him as he became even paler, "Are you alright?"

YN just waved with his hand, "Yeah, yeah", he said hoarsely, slapping against his chest, "I just choked on something.", he whispered.

But the next day, YN laid in bed, coughing violently and fighting with the full aftermath of the virus that held Insomnia in its iron grip for a few months. Obviously, without knowing it, YN's sister had been infected and now, he was the one with all the symptoms: fever, fatigue, muscle aches, headache, sore throat and nausea saying, the whole package.

While caring as best as he could for a suffering YN, Nyx did what the citizens were encouraged to do: he called a doctor, YN got tested and the result was clear: positive.

Nyx was tested negative but still, because they lived together, they had to be both quarantined for two weeks. As the next step, Nyx had to inform their Captain. Drautos wasn't pleased about the information that two of his men were out of service because of some ‘common cold’. As the Captain asked why they had to be both in quarantine, Nyx saw himself forced to tell the truth and revealed the relationship he had with YN. But, somehow, Nyx got the impression that the relationship itself wasn't the biggest problem rather the fact that the Captain had been completely unaware about it during the last months.

But because the Captain still wanted to have the upper hand like always, he sent Nyx and YN a big pile of documents and paperwork that got postponed because of the last battles. Nyx wasn't pleased about the boring 'office' work but as long as he and YN were quarantined, there was no way Nyx could say anything against it … or run away from it to fight a small, cozy fight against some demons which he would prefer more in this moment.

Luckily, YN recovered quickly and so, after one week, he was almost the old one. Almost. He was still a bit tired, was coughing and needed to rest but at least, he was fit enough to help Nyx a little bit with the paperwork. Especially, YN did it to prevent a raging war inside their apartment. While YN had been forced to stay in bed, he already had heard Nyx cursing while working.

First YN thought Nyx was just annoyed about the work itself but then, one afternoon as they sat together to work through the piles of documents, YN realized that Nyx wasn't just 'annoyed' rather, he was frustrated and even kinda aggressive.

"This stupid thing!", Nyx called out while pressing keys randomly on his PC.

YN raised his glance questioningly from his own PC and papers to look at the hero, who obviously got defeated by a bunch of wires and circuit pressed into a plastic case, "Everything's good over there?" he asked, grinning as Nyx slammed his whole hand on all keys he could find at the same time.

"Sure! Fuc- it works pretty wonderful!", he hissed through gritted teeth. Once again, Nyx pressed a bunch of keys he had no idea of their functions. As the PC finally just gave up and shutted down, Nyx leant back in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose with closed eyes while sighing deeply, completely defeated.

YN tried his hardest to keep the grin out of his face but it wasn't working. Nyx heard the muffled sound of suppressed laughter and the moment he looked slowly up, his beloved boyfriend burst out with laughter. Even tears of joy were running down his cheeks.

Nyx gritted his teeth, "Good to see that you’re feeling better again. At least one of us has fun here.", he said annoyedly, standing up from the chair to look out of the window to become calmer again. It was cold, raining and all in all not the worst weather to be forced to stay inside.

YN felt guilty for laughing. He hurried over to Nyx and from behind, he snaked his arms around Nyx' waist, pressing a soft kiss on the outer rim of Nyx' ear, one of his weak spots, "Come on. Don't be like that. I didn't mean to laugh at you. It was just ... you fight against demons and whatsoever and then, you get defeated by a PC? Seriously?", YN chuckled.

Nyx scoffed, "I tell you, this thing has a will on its own. And it's mocking me. Besides, we're Glaives. We fight. We don't do 'paperwork'.", he said, quoting the Captain's words in a silly voice.

"So, what? You wanna disobey and ignore the Captain's order? Again?", YN asked amused, knowing how rebellious Nyx could be from time to time.

Nyx grinned, turning around in YN's arms and lying his own around his neck, glad that YN already had some color back in his face, "What shall he do? We're in quarantine. We're not allowed to leave this place or to invite someone in ... at all.", he said with a low voice.

YN raised an eyebrow, knowing this kind of mischievous glance already from the hero, "You have something in mind then?"

"Oh, yes. Indeed, I have.", Nyx nodded with a grin.

Ten minutes later, Nyx had collected everything he needed while YN just had watched him, sitting in an armchair. Nyx had prohibited him to do anything else than just waiting because even if YN felt better he was still stricken. On the other hand, Nyx wanted to have his idea as a small surprise. So, he collected all the pillows and blankets he could find and threw them into the living room which was quickly turned upside down. Nyx took some chairs, arranged them with the couch and had built something that represented a cozy fort. The couch was the fort's backrest. Chairs left and right were holding up the blankets while the carpet was covered with pillows and bed covers to make it even more comfy. As Nyx was done, he stepped next to YN, lying an arm around his shoulders, "What do you say?"

"That looks pretty perfect. You have done that before, don't you?", YN asked and looked up. There was already a melancholic smile on Nyx' lips.

"Yeah, I did this often with Selena. Mostly, when she was feeling sad or when she was sick. Then, I built one of these, stole some ice cream and cookies from the kitchen and then, we hid there the whole day. We were talking or watching TV until we fell asleep.", Nyx remembered, pulling YN closer to his side before he pressed a soft kiss on his boyfriend's crown while inhaling his scent to feed the painful memories with sweet new fuel to make them comfortable again.

YN enjoyed the affection with closed eyes, "So, you stole ice cream, huh?", he asked softly to light Nyx' mood up again. He was happy that it worked as he heard him chuckling.

"Well, stealing would mean no one knew about it. I'm sure our mother knew it. I mean, back then, as a kid, I felt pretty smart but now, I know that someone had to buy the things, so I'm sure she knew when we would build our little cave and prepared the sweets for us."

YN frowned. Everything was perfect except the fact that they had no sweets in the kitchen, "Shall we order-", but he got stopped as someone knocked at the door.

"Not necessary. I already took care of that, too.", Nyx said with a grin and went to the front door, opened it and came back with a paper bag full of stuff Crowe had brought after Nyx had texted her.

"What's that?", YN asked curiously, closing up on Nyx.

"Everything we need to get you back on track.", Nyx said grinning.

"But I'm already feeling better.", YN argued half-heartedly as he saw the colorful labels of the bag's contents.

"Yes, but 'better' is still not completely recovered. So, here, the ice cream will help you with your sore throat. Cookies are great in warm milk with honey to fight against the temperature of your fever. And the chocolate will just make you happy.", Nyx listed while pointing at the different items.

"And the gummi bears? Are they for my running nose?", YN asked chuckling, pulling out the bag of sweets.

Nyx snatched it out of YN's hand, "Oh, these are for me. At last, I need something to throw at you when you say stupid things again. Gummi bears for a running nose... never heard such a silly thing.", Nyx mumbled while rolling with his eyes and bringing the bag in the kitchen.

YN laughed, took his laptop and crawled into the pillow fort to get comfortable already while waiting for Nyx to come back.

Ten minutes later, Nyx appeared with a tablet which was laden with bowls full of ice cream, sweets and two mugs with warm milk. YN received the tablet, placing it in the middle. Nyx crawled next to YN's side before he closed the door made out of a blanket to enclose them with coziness. Pressing on a switch, a chain of light went on which was installed around the chair and illuminated the fort in a soft warm, romantically light. Nyx leant against the couch with his back, raised his arm to give YN the space to cuddle against him, using Nyx' upper body as a pillow.

YN was just about to start the movie he had picked out on Netflix as Nyx got a call on the headset he had still in his ear out of habit. Cursing under his breath, he answered the call, "Yeah? Hey, Captain. Yes, we're still in quarantine. One more week, that’s correct, Sir. Yes, he's feeling better but he's still not recovered completely. He still has to rest.", Nyx answered the Captain's questions. To underline Nyx' statement, YN coughed slightly.

Nyx had difficulties to keep the amusement out of his voice and nudged YN's side in revenge because the coughing was so badly acted, "What did you say, Sir? Oh, yeah, the paperwork. We're working on it. Yes, at this very moment, we're sitting in the living room and looking at the screen. Yes, Sir. Alright. Good da- huh, he hung up already.", Nyx said with a smirk, taking the headset out of his ear to lay it aside where he wouldn't notice it at all for the rest of the day.

"You lied to the Captain.", YN stated with a smirk.

Nyx looked him in the eyes while shaking his head, "No, I said the truth. We're in the living room, looking at some screen. The paperwork can wait. First, I want to make sure that you're fit again.", he breathed before he kissed YN softly, "And now, we should hurry with the ice cream or we will have just soup left."

"You could put some gummi bears into it to keep the consistency- hey!", YN called out as a gummi bear hit his hand.

"I warned you.", Nyx said grinning before YN cuddled back against Nyx' side, the best place in the world to recover from whatever virus there might ever be.

[spacetimewraithwrites-archive]

Fictober ‘21 Prompt No. 1 — “I need you.”

Category: Original WIP: WASTE Rating: T Timeline: Not too long after Guetry has been implanted with Scotty CW: None Word Count: 1,142 Additional Notes: I love exploring the relationship between these two.

***

Guetry stared through the opening of the mine shaft, flat on his back across austere stone. His eyes were not focused on the night sky painted with diamonds and the rich purple of wines made in his vineyard, as it would have appeared to a bystander. His attention was, instead, zeroed in on the small hole in the visor of his helmet, currently sending the HUD into hysterics and draining him of air with each passing second.

“S...Scotty,” he choked.

“You have twenty minutes before asphyxiation,” Scotty said. Matter-of-fact, directly in his ear, as always. Even in the face of fatality. “I cannot seal the breach as my connection to your equipment has been severed.”

Despite the situation, his cadence did somewhat have a soothing effect.

Guetry closed his eyes and reached up to assess the extent of the damage to the helmet. “What do I do?” he asked. His chest heaved under the breastplate of his armor as he attempted to steady his breath and not waste what little oxygen he could get. “What...what do I do? What button, what switch...?”

“I have no connection to your team.” Scotty sputtered violet in the corner of Guetry’s eye. “Other than the automatic distress signal that went out as soon as your visor sustained damage.”

“Shit...shit.” Guetry rolled himself onto his side, scrambling for purchase on solid ground. “Twenty m—twenty minutes. Twenty minutes.”

“There’s been some trauma to your implant as well, as I’m certain you can discern for yourself.”

Guetry’s frantic gaze darted around the shaft, desperate for an escape or something to close the breach before he blacked out. “Scotty...please stop telling me things that are up—upsetting to me.”

“The fall into the mine cracked the back of your helmet open. The damage is permanent.”

“What the hell did I just say,” Guetry wheezed. He yanked the helmet off his head with shaking hands and threw it farther into the mine.

“Are you in pain?”

“I don’t know. I can’t feel most of anything right now.” Guetry took a few sharp breaths. “You gotta keep me going until someone gets here, or until I get out of here, whichever comes first.”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

Guetry tried to drag himself closer to the entrance, but his arms had already begun to fail him. “Scotty, I don’t plan on dying today. Keep...keep my brain alive or something. Do literally anything.”

“My designation doesn’t work in that way. I can’t sustain you when there isn’t sufficient oxygen.” Scotty paused as Guetry gave up in the center of the opening and collapsed onto his stomach. “I also don’t think I made myself clear. I’m unable to access life support.”

Guetry went still. “Do something.”

“Guetry—”

“I need you. Please.”

Scotty once again fell silent. “I will attempt to contact your team again.”

With strength he was surprised he had at the moment, Guetry pushed himself onto his back. “Hey, if I...” He broke out into a hacking cough as his lungs strained to sap oxygen out of the air. “If I don’t make it, send my sisters...and my dad a message.”

“When I am tethered to you, the event of your death will permanently deactivate me.”

Nodding, Guetry swallowed. He opened the front pouch of his supply kit and withdrew a flare. “Tell my sisters and my dad that I love you.”

“You love...them?”

Guetry ripped the packaging of the flare open with his teeth, the edges of his vision turning black. He took a couple shallow breaths. “Yeah. We can pretend that’s what I meant.”

He raised the flare and fired it straight through the opening of the mine. A single flash of red light exploded upward, carried a bit by the gaseous wind of the planet’s surface before disappearing into the sky.

“Think they saw it?” Guetry asked weakly, hand dropping onto his chest.

Scotty didn’t answer.

Guetry's eyes grew heavy. “Don’t...don’t give up on me. Not now.”

“I could say the same.”

“Say it, then.”

“Don’t give up on me, Guetry.”

Guetry watched a dark blur move over the mine entrance. The words echoed in his mind repeatedly until he was no longer conscious.

---

He awoke again in a bed, clocking before he even opened his eyes that he was in a med fac somewhere. He’d been in enough of them to pinpoint them by smell alone.

Dazia’s tired face turned to him from her spot in the chair across the room. “Morning, sleepyhead.”

“Oh, shit,” Guetry groaned, bringing a ginger touch to his forehead as a headache slammed into him with the force of a meteor.

“Good to see you, too, jackass.”

“Did you pull me out of that mine?” Guetry peeked at her through his fingers, avoiding the harsh light.

Dazia nodded. “Yep. Your little stunt sent Tux into a panic spiral so I had to pick up the slack.”

“It did not,” the nuaclan said from the other side of the room.

Guetry laughed even though it hurt his throat. “The only thing that would send Tux into a panic spiral is if someone took so long to get rid of my body that it implicated her.” He turned to look at her with a grin. “Ain’t that right, baby girl?”

Tux rolled her eyes, but the smirk stretching across her wide face said enough. “Idiot.”

“They had to take Scotty for a bit,” Dazia said. “It won’t be for much longer. NodeSource fixed your implant—they’re just running diagnostics to make sure everything’s square.”

“Okay. That explains the migraine.” Guetry nodded, a hand coming up to his temple on instinct. His fingers knocked into the cable leading out of his port and into a terminal next to his bed, likely operating to take over a fraction of what Scotty maintained. “He deserves a wellness check.”

When they were united later, after his doctor and a NodeSource technician made sure everything functioned normally and after Guetry had started a game of solitaire on his bed, he sighed into the empty room, eyes following the cable attaching him to the computer.

“Is everything alright?” Scotty asked.

“Yeah, man.” Guetry sniffed. He turned a card over. “Just...hope you don’t make a habit out of scaring me.”

He detected a hint of hesitation. “I won’t.”

“...I guess I owe you an apology, too.”

“Not for doing your job, you don’t.”

Guetry cracked a small smile. “I could say the same.”

“Then say so.”

He glanced through the two-way viewscreen affording him a look out into the hospital corridor while granting him privacy. Doctors, nurses, and patients milled about, some in more of a hurry than others.

“I’ll do my best not to worry you too much,” he finally said.

“Worry is not within my programming.”

“Nah.” Guetry’s smile widened. “Don’t buy it.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a while.

[hidden-otaku-stuff]

Lockscreens (ch. 3)

tw: Implied drinking

Word count: 2.9k

Genre: Angst, fluff

All trigger warnings will be tagged and posted at the beginning of each chapter! This will have *manga spoilers*

Pairings: Bokuto x fem!reader, Kuroo x fem!reader

Summary: Nearly four years ago, Bokuto left the love of his life for volleyball. Despite all the time, he’s still very much in love with her. He comes home to a major surprise leaving him wondering…What happened while he was gone?

AN: Please check the bottom for info about my 150 follower special!

Masterlist | prev | next

ch 3: No new notifications (13 weeks)

“Cheers! To the best, most hard-working Manager I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing, who is doing a kickass job in her life. This is all for you, bestie!” Kuroo pointed at her, brandishing his red solo cup. The room broke into cheers as she began to glow cherry-red. She glanced down to the phone in her hand. No new notifications. 

“Congratulations (Name)!” Yaku grinned, tapping his cup against hers. She tucked her phone back into her pocket as she took a sip of the sparkling apple cider.

Kai stood beside her, elbowing her slightly. “We always knew you could do it.” 

“He’s so embarrassing,” she huffed, cheeks puffing up. Kuroo walked over, pushing her cheeks together. His own glowed like fresh-picked strawberries.

“You look so adorable kitten~!” She playfully nipped at his fingers, causing him to pull them back and wag his finger at her. “Is that really any way to treat your bestest friend who planned this party for you?” They stood side-by-side as they surveyed the scene. Kuroo had gone all out. He’d ordered food and had even helped prepare curry prior to the party while she had made the gyoza. Her house was filled with familiar faces. Her heart glowed, recognising all the members from the Nekoma team from her third-year. Even senpais who had graduated two years before had stopped by. Here and there were familiar faces from other teams like Sugawara from Karasuno, Konoha from Fukurodani, and even some of her classmates from university. 

By the entrance, a large white poster was tacked to the wall serving as a backdrop. On it was “Congratulations (Name)!” with markers were provided for party-guests to leave heart-felt messages. The pop of another champagne bottle being opened caught their attention. White and gold streamers decorated the walls. Balloons were center-pieces at all the various tables. Her heart clenched, an all-too familiar jersey and face popping into her mind. 

“Congratulations Kou!” She squealed, jumping into her boyfriend’s arms. Bokuto beamed, wrapping an arm around her waist. 

“Congratulations to you too, babe!” He leaned down, rubbing his nose against hers. She giggled, pulling back and straightening out his tie. 

“I can’t believe we’re finally finished,” (Name) smiled, turning her body so that her back was against Bokuto’s chest while they surveyed the room. All around were various former third-years of Fukurodani and Nekoma. Nekoma’s graduation ceremony had been yesterday whereas Fukurodani’s ceremony had been that day. 

“Finally finished, but still stuck together,” Kuroo appeared, looming over their shoulders with a smirk on his face.

“It’ll be a new adventure,” she protested, glaring at the male. 

“Oi, Kuroo, leave the love-birds alone,” Yaku scolded, holding two red solo cups. Yaku handed her a cup. “Cheers guys!” They all cheered, their cups tapping together. 

“To another four years with my babies,” she smiled affectionately, letting her head rest against Bokuto’s chest. 

“I guess I’ll sacrifice another four years taking care of you children,” Kuroo teased. She rolled her eyes, feeling Bokuto’s warm breath on her ear.

“To four years of university, and then a lifetime beside the girl who stole my heart all those years ago,” he whispered. (Name) flushed pink, only for a scarlet glow to overtake her when Bokuto pressed a sloppy kiss onto her cheek. “Let’s party!” He cheered, pulling away and chugging the rest of his beer.

She glanced down to her phone. No new notifications. All that stared back at her was the picture of some cute dog she pulled off of the internet. Nimble fingers plucked the phone from her grasps. “Hey!” She protested, hands reaching up to try and grab it. 

“This is your party!” He gestured to the room. “All of these people gathered here to celebrate this accomplishment with you.” He sent her a soft look, cupping her cheeks before pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead. “You can have your phone back later, okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah,” she pouted, pushing his hands off of her face. 

Kuroo pushed her towards Kai and Yaku before he walked away, joining Kenma in the corner. “You and Kuroo seem closer than ever,” Yaku commented, shooting the girl a sly look. “Did something happen?” The former libero eyed the rooster-headed male as he laughed. 

“Oh, let me help you with that Kenma!” (Name) called, putting down the water bottles as she made her way over to the first year setter. Kenma’s face turned as he avoided direct eye-contact, focusing on the ball he was wiping down. She stood beside him, grabbing a towel to wipe another. Her perky voice carried through the emptying gym. Hazel eyes followed them, a smile proudly displayed on his face. Yaku and Kai exchanged looks, a smirk creeping on Yaku’s face. The second years entered the locker-room, following the rooster-headed male.

“God I’m so happy right now.”

“Oh really, what’s going on now Kuroo?” Kai inquired, sending the male a sly look.

“Does it have anything to do with (Name)?” Yaku teased.

“No!” Kuroo pouted. “Maybe.” He took off his shirt, grabbing a different one from his bag. “I’m just happy that she and Kenma get along, okay?” 

“Don’t they usually hangout anyways?” Kai raised his eyebrows.

“Is that all that makes you happy about her?” 

“Well I mean...isn’t that good? Isn’t it a good thing my best friends get along together?” Kuroo smirked. “I don’t see you having any best friends, Yaku, so I guess you can’t relate there.” Yaku’s face crossed into anger, as he rolled his shirt sleeve up. 

“Hey, don’t start fighting here,” Kai warned, tugging his own shirt down. 

“He started it!” Yaku scowled.

“Well, I’m ending it.” 

There was a knock at the door. “Kuroo? Are you still in there?” 

Kuroo was holding his hand against Yaku’s forehead, preventing his movements. “Yeah!”

“Hurry up, rooster-head. I gotta get home and get started on my paper!” 

“Coming!” Kuroo pushed Yaku back, throwing his bag over his shoulder as he ran out, tripping slightly. The boys exchanged looks.

“He’s so whipped.” 

Kai grunted in agreement. 

“Something like that.” They all turned to look at the pair of best friends.

“What happened to Bokuto?” Kai asked, his eyebrows raised. 

(Name) turned to look at them, her eyes dimming. “He uh...he left, I guess.” She cleared her throat. “He went to go pro and left me behind.” She shrugged. Another sip.

“That owl-haired idiot,” Yaku scowled. “You guys seemed so in love though.” 

“Didn’t you choose your major because of him?”

“We were and yeah, kinda.” Kuroo’s eyes met hers from across the room, and he sent her a cheeky smile. “But sometimes, you gotta let go of the people you love so that they can fly to their highest.” The group drank, Kai and Yaku exchanged looks at her sorrowful expression. “Besides! I love being a recreational therapist anyways.” 

“Are you planning on getting a doctorate? I know you mentioned wanting to do physical therapy sometime.”

She shrugged. “I don’t think it’s in the cards for me right now, but maybe sometime down the line.” A hand subconsciously settled onto her stomach. In turn, she asked them about their post-graduation plans and they soon fell into an easy conversation. 

After a few hours, the party began to wind down. People left, the food and alcohol had long been consumed. “Thank you for having us!” Yaku waved as he and Kai left. (Name) had been bent over the kitchen counter, picking up the empty cups and dirty plates that littered it. She waved at the duo before the door snapped shut behind them.

“Thank god that’s over with,” she said as she went back to cleaning. Another glance at the phone on the table. No new notifications. She bit back her sigh. At this point, she shouldn’t have even been surprised. 

Kuroo’s annoying laugh echoed in the house as he began cleaning the table. He eyed the decorations. “How about we leave the decorations up for a bit? There’s no harm in celebrating a little longer.” 

She rolled her eyes. “You’re just too tired to clean up.”

He walked around the island, wiping down the cleared counter. “That and you need rest,” he chided. A light hand pressed against her lower back. “Go shower and get ready for bed. I’ll take care of this.” A chaste forehead kiss. Her eyes fluttered shut at the searing contact. 

She let out a long sigh, a hand on her stomach, a slight bump meeting it. “Only because my feet and back are killing me,” she acknowledged. She leaned up, pressing her lips to his cheek. “Thanks rooster-head.” Ignoring his cry of indignation, she headed to the bathroom. By the time she was finished, Kuroo was sprawled onto her bed. “I don’t remember giving you permission to sleepover,” she remarked, leaning against the doorway as she towel-dried her hair.

“And I don’t remember getting a thank you for today. I guess we’re both missing something now aren’t we?” His snarky reply had her balling up and throwing the damp towel on his face. Kuroo whipped it off, complaining loudly. She walked over, crawling towards Kuroo to hover over him.

“Thank you for the party.” His eyes gleamed as he tapped his cheek. 

“I think you missed something here.” 

“Kuroo!” She warned, and he threw his head back in a good-natured laugh. 

“Down, kitten,” he teased. “No need to get your claws out.” He gently eased her off of him onto the bed. “I’m gonna shower and I’ll be right back for cuddles.” She scowled, throwing a pillow at him.

“Don’t even think about it Kuroo!” He cackled as the pillow bounced off the door. She stretched slightly before she relaxed onto her side. Exhaustion overwhelmed her, and she slipped into the abyss. 

****

Nearly 300 miles away, a muscular male was just clambering into bed. His phone vibrated, lighting up. 

Konoha: Missed you at (Name)’s grad party! Hope you’re having fun with the pros 🙄😜

Gold eyes widened as he opened his calendar. He cursed. (Name) had finished university last week, and he hadn’t even sent her anything! Setting a silent reminder to send her a gift in the morning, he quickly drafted a text.

Bokuto: Congratulations baby! I’m so proud of you 💖 Can’t wait to see you soon!

He tossed his phone onto the nightstand and laid on his back. His muscles were extra sore that day, practice had run three hours over due to an interview that had predated it. He closed his eyes as his breathing deepened. The wing-spiker didn’t notice the error message that popped up on his phone as he fell asleep. Nor did he notice that his phone wasn’t plugged in.

****

(A week later. Name is 14 weeks along)

Stepping into the comfort of her home, (Name) let out a sigh of relief. It had been nerve-wracking, going to the clinic alone. She threw her purse onto her couch, plopping down next to it. Glancing down at her phone, she realized she had probably an hour before Kuroo would be coming over. At the thought of her friend, her heart skipped a beat. A hand settled on her stomach again as she slipped in her thoughts. Feeling the bump, seeing the doctor….it was all so real. She really was having a baby. She was having Bokuto’s baby. Her fingers played with her phone. Should she…? A thumb hovered over his contact. (Name) gnawed on her bottom lip. She tapped on their messages.

Last message sent:

[Name]: Hi baby! I hope you’re having fun at your training camps 💞 Don’t forget to eat and drink water. I love you. Read: 1 month ago.

(Name) shook her head. There was no point in texting him if he wasn’t going to respond to her. She sighed, startled out of her thoughts as her stomach gurgled. “Ooh, I’m sorry baby. Gimme a sec.” She stood up, making her way to her kitchen. Opening the door to her fridge, she was greeted to the sight of prepared bentos. “Oh, Kuroo,” she sighed affectionately, taking the top box out. A sticky note was tacked onto it. ‘Figured you might be too busy to make food. Enjoy! -Kuroo’. Popping the lid open, she was greeted to rice, a fried egg, sliced chicken breast, and spinach. Placing it in the microwave, she pulled out her phone to send a text. 

[Name]: Thank you for the bentos! It looks delicious

Rooster-head: Anything for you, dear 😼 See you soon!

The microwave beeped, calling her attention. She sat at her table, whispering a quick, “thank you for the meal,” before she started scrolling through social media. As she placed the empty container into the sink, there was a knock at the door. Briskly patting her hands dry on the towel, she opened the door.

“Howdy-do!” 

She rolled her eyes. “Hello to you too Kuroo. Do you have any other weird greetings for me?” He shrugged off his coat, throwing it over the back of the couch.

“I’m sorry, is ‘Honey, I’m home!’ more appropriate for you, princess?” 

“You’re insufferable.” He cackled, pulling her into a hug. 

“Eh, but you love me.”

“Do I really though?” She dead-panned, gently pushing him off. “Thanks for coming over, I really appreciate all the help you’ve been giving me.” He let her go, taking a step back.

Kuroo cracked his knuckles. “Don’t sweat it, I offered. Now, is everything already in the room?” 

“Yeah, I just need to get some last bits of furniture, and then it’ll be all set.” 

“Let’s get to painting then!” She stepped into the secondary bedroom, revealing a cloth-covered floor. “What color did you pick out?” 

(Name) popped open the lid for the bucket. “I liked this blue-grey colour. Figured I wanted something gender neutral.” 

“Makes sense.” He surveyed the walls. “Are you going to do a mural or something on the wall too?” Kuroo bent down, pouring a bit of paint into the tray. 

“Maybe? Might have to ask someone who’s more artistically inclined.” A hum in response.  

“How was the appointment, by the way?” 

She put her hair in a bun, pulling on a pair of stained overalls. “Good! The doctor just told me to have more DHA, protein, and to make sure to get sufficient rest.”

“I told you that you needed more docosahexaenoic acid.”

“Like I said, insufferable.” They stared at each other before bursting into laughter. 

Kuroo clapped his hands, rolling his shoulders back. “Well, the paint isn’t gonna get on the walls itself.” They rolled up their sleeves. “Let’s get to it.” The next hour was filled with laughter, their favorite songs blaring from the Bluetooth speakers that (Name) brought in. Just as they were about to jump into the chorus of (favorite song), the music died out and was replaced by a ringing noise. She raised a brow, laying the paint brush against the lid as she went to her phone. Her heart skipped a beat. Was it Bokuto? (Name) answered, taking the call off of Bluetooth.

“Hello, is this (L. Name, Name)?” 

Her brow furrowed. “Yes, this is she.”

“Excellent! My name is Kirishima Kayda, I’m with the Tokyo Office of Sports Medicine. I’m calling about the resume you submitted recently. Will you be free for an interview next week?” 

Her eyes widened, and she started smacking Kuroo’s arms as she bounced with excitement. “Oh my gosh, hi Ms. Kirishima, yes! I have open availability next week. When would you like me to come in?”

“How about Tuesday at 10 A.M.? I will send you an email with the interview confirmation and all other information you’ll need.”

“That sounds wonderful, thank you so much for your time.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll see you next week!” 

“What was that about?” Kuroo asked as she pulled the phone away from her ear.

“I just got an interview with the Tokyo Office of Sports Medicine!” She squealed, glowing with excitement. 

“Ooh, I’m so excited for you! Congratulations, kitten.” Kuroo pulled her into a hug, causing her to whine as splatters of paint transferred onto her clothes. “Now, help me finish getting this room ready.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” she pouted, tucking her phone back into her overalls. After tucking some strands of hair back into the bun, she grabbed one of the brushes, flicking paint at the tall male. 

“Oi!” 

She giggled, ducking under his arms as he attempted to send a glob of paint at her. They began running around the room. More paint ended up on them rather than the actual walls as they played like children.

****

“Not that I care, but why the hell have you been checking your phone so much?” Bokuto jumped, his phone flying out of his hand and skidding across the ground. Sakusa stood in front of him, his arms in his pockets. 

“No reason!” Bokuto replied nervously, running over to pick his phone up. He winced at the cracked screen. “Aw man,” he whined. Bokuto had already been having issues with his phone for the past week or so. 

“Serves you right,” Sakusa rolled his eyes. “C’mon, we’re supposed to be practicing.” Bokuto let out a soft sigh as he walked back to his bag. Sakusa turned, heading towards the court while Bokuto dropped his phone into his bag. No new notifications. Every opportunity he had, he was racing back to his phone. No new notifications.

AN: Thank you to everyone who has been reading my work so far! I really enjoy putting Lockscreens out for you. I have officially reached 150 followers!! Please read this post for more info about my request celebration that I am having! 

Taglist: @toaster-stick @thatartsybitch @brazil-hinata @sawamooora @lastminaddition @anejuuuuoy @abby-rutledge20 @babybluebisexual @badboysdoitbetter2 @liathachcapricious @cosmiclunas @wishingforanother@toobsessedsstuff  @setterfish   (If your name is bolded, I had trouble tagging you!) 

Please message me or send me an ask if you’d like to be added to the taglist! 💞

[mamabearcatfanfics]

It was already written, so I didn’t have to keep you in suspense for long. Here’s Part Two of Song and Dance Man. You can read the first part here, or go read the whole thing on AO3. Enjoy!

🎵

When Kagome had lifted her heavy head from her pillow the next morning and looked at her phone, there were ten messages. One from Shiori, one from Sango, and eight from Inuyasha.

She let her head flop back on the pillow, deciding not to open any of them yet. She wasn’t hiding, not exactly. This morning, she just wanted to pretend for a little while that everything was okay, have a quiet breakfast with her family, who she hadn’t seen for nearly a month, and then deal with the fall out.

The message from Shiori would no doubt be calm and caring. Sango’s message would also be caring, but she was pretty sure it would not be calm. And Inuyasha. She didn’t know. She didn’t know what to think. She’d put that in ‘after breakfast Kagome’s’ problem pile. Right now, she felt like crap, her period had finally arrived, and she needed to stand under a hot shower for at least, forever.

So she dragged herself to the bathroom and took some pain relief, had a shower, rummaged in her childhood bedroom for any clean clothes that still fit and found a pair of cut off jean shorts and a t-shirt from drama club that proclaimed Theatre is my Sport, then walked downstairs to the kitchen to sit listlessly at the table.

Grandpa read the paper, flicking the pages noisily every time he turned a page, making comments on various stories that no one replied to. Mama bustled around in the background, insisting on making her a cooked breakfast even though she’d said she wasn’t hungry. Souta clomped around noisily, calling out to Mama as he tried to find all the missing parts of his soccer uniform and put them in his bag for his game that morning.

Mama slid a plate in front of her and Kagome stared down at the single fried egg on toast as it glared at her accusingly. She deserved to be glared at. She had fought with Inuyasha. She had yelled at him, even after he’d been nothing but kind all morning at her bad mood, hurling her words at him like arrows, aiming to wound. Do you even care at all? Or are you just in it for the sex?! She felt the small amount of appetite she’d had leave her.

The back of Kagome’s eyes prickled with unshed tears, and she stabbed at the egg viciously with her fork, watching the yolk ooze out onto the toast. She should have known things were going too well.

Every few months, her period threw her a curve ball where her emotions got entirely out of whack and she became a paranoid anxious overthinking mess. If it happened when she was working at the theatre and they weren’t too busy, Jakotsu usually sent her home, recognising she wouldn’t be at her best. He jokingly called her mood swings her ‘little demon’ which made some of the youkai members of the crew roll their eyes, but it was true. She felt like an entirely different person when it happened, almost like she was watching someone else use her voice and say things she wouldn’t usually ever say out loud.

It had been so much worse this month, a slowly building feeling of anxiety and paranoia ever since she’d had the Depo Provera shot, wanting to try a birth control that was impossible to forget now she was in a relationship. Her doctor had been asking her to keep a diary of her symptoms, but she kept forgetting, and now look what had happened.

Sometimes Inuyasha said things without thinking. She knew that. He’d just been teasing her. And usually she’d just roll her eyes at him and tease him back, and they’d have a playful argument that led to a tickle fight or something a lot more hands on. But yesterday, she’d taken his words and twisted them. She could see that now. Yesterday, it had felt like her anxiety was looking for reasons to tear the world down around her. That look on his face – she’d hurt him. She had ruined everything.

She loved Inuyasha, even though sometimes he wasn’t the easiest man to love. He was a logical, practical person with a body to die for, who felt safest when he had order and control in his life. It was easy to see he was used to living alone, and sharing his personal space with her still threw him for a loop sometimes. He could be a little grumpy. A little obnoxious. A genuine diamond in the rough who carefully guarded his emotions. He was more a man of action than words, and she could appreciate that. But his sweet nature had been gradually revealed by the caring things he did for her, no matter how gruff his exterior could be sometimes.

She adored him. She’d never dated a hanyou before, and that came with a few extra complexities compared to being with a human, but she had grown to love his youkai traits. The way his ears told her how he was feeling. The way his pupils dilated when he was aroused. The way he took it upon himself to see to her physical needs, wanting to feed her, touch her, care for her. The way he relished how she smelled, how she tasted. He was a much more physical partner than she’d ever had before, and she loved it. How a simple touch from him, a spoken word in that low rumble could fill her with desire. In his hands, she felt cherished, desirable, wanted. She’d always thought she’d had a fairly average libido before, but with Inuyasha… she felt insatiable.

She’d had a couple of girl talks with Inuyasha’s friend Sango about him, and she'd hinted at a troubled childhood without giving any details. After that, Kagome had decided she wouldn’t push him out of his comfort zone before he was ready. He’d probably had to deal with so much growing up, and it was easy to deduce that he found talking about emotions difficult. That was okay, not everyone was good at that, he more than made up for his lack of words with his physical attentiveness and the way he looked at her. She could read the way he felt in those golden eyes.

To her delight, just recently he’d started to share things with her all on his own, just little details here and there, about his Mama or his Pop, family traditions they’d had when he was small, and she’d treated those tiny pieces of information like the gifts they were. And now look what she’d done. He’d probably never share his thoughts like that with her again.

It felt like there was a tight band around chest, making it hard to breathe properly. Her back was stiff from a night of tossing and turning, her lower belly twisted with cramps now that her period had finally arrived, along with a thumping headache that made her head heavy. She hoped the painkillers she’d taken in the bathroom would kick in soon.

The doorbell rang, adding to the family noise in the kitchen, and Souta ran to answer it, a piece of toast clutched in his hand. He was expecting a teammate who was getting a lift to the soccer game with him and Mama, and they heard him call out excitedly from the front room as he opened the door. Her mother sat down at the other end of the table.

“What are your plans for today, Kagome?” she asked absently, stirring her tea.

All Kagome wanted to do was go back to Inuyasha. Touch Inuyasha. Be with Inuyasha. But first they would have to have a Talk. Would he be like her previous boyfriends, and dump her for being ‘difficult’? Kagome sighed and slumped back in her chair. She shouldn’t have run yesterday, but she’d felt like a passenger in her own body, and had been frightened she would say something even more unforgivable than she already had.

Instead of going back to her apartment, she had caught a bus to the other side of the city to her childhood home, rushing in the door to fall into her mother's arms to sob hysterically, and had then taken some painkillers to dull what felt like an oncoming cluster headache and gone straight to bed before dinner.

“My plans? Oh nothing much. Mostly eating humble pie”, said Kagome dejectedly, pouring herself another cup of tea and pushing the impaled egg off to one side with a grimace.

Her mother lifted her head at that and inspected her daughter over the top of her teacup. “It’s going to be alright you know”, she said with a gentle smile, but before Kagome could ask her what she meant, Souta wandered back in, still eating his toast.

‘It wasn’t Kenji, it’s some guy for you, Kagome,’ he said vaguely.

‘Me? But nobody knows I’m here.” Puzzled, Kagome pushed back her chair and went to the door.

And there was Inuyasha. Her heart leapt with joy and the world, which had been dully monochrome and all askew, abruptly righted itself and sprang back into colour, just like the moment Dorothy had opened the door and found herself in Oz.

“Inuyasha?!”

She drank in the sight of him on the doorstep. He was looking more dressed up than she’d ever seen him, wearing an open-necked button shirt and jacket, his hair braided neatly. Even his jeans seemed to have no holes, and his black motorcycle boots looked polished. But otherwise he was indisputably, wonderfully Inuyasha. Her eyes roved over the austere angles of his face, his amber eyes and pointed silver ears, the stern mouth that made her knees go weak, the quiet solidity of him.

She wanted to throw herself into his arms and apologise profusely, but the strained look in his eyes, the tautness around his mouth, made her pause.

“Is everything okay?” she asked hesitantly.

“Fine.” Inuyasha cleared his throat. “Yeah it’s…uh, fine. I just came by because…um, I wondered if you had a balcony”, he finished in a rush.

Kagome’s jaw dropped. She didn’t know what she had been expecting, but it wasn’t that.

“A balcony?”

“Yeah. A balcony. Do you?”

Was this a peculiarly vivid dream? He seemed solid enough, standing there in a shirt and jacket she didn’t even know he possessed, his neatly braided hair revealing every nervous twitch of his ears.  

“There’s a back verandah”, she said cautiously, blinking up at him.

“That’ll do. Can we go there now?” he asked tensely. “If you’re not too busy that is?”

Kagome stared at him. “Inuyasha, are you sure you’re all right? You’re behaving very strangely.”

He huffed. “I know”, he said, his hands fidgeting with the edge of his jacket. “It’s just there’s somethin’ I need to do before I lose my nerve.”

“And this something needs to be done on our back verandah?” said Kagome slowly. He nodded.

She stood aside and Inuyasha stepped past her into the house. Maybe she was still asleep, and this was some sort of lucid dream brought on by those painkillers she’d taken last night. It definitely felt surreal. She blinked slowly and pinched herself, but he was definitely still there. Kagome led him down the hall and through the kitchen to the back door, ignoring Mama and Grandpa’s intense discussion about the need to clean out the storage shed, interspersed with polite requests to pass the tea.

“Well, here we are on the back verandah”, she said cautiously, wondering what might happen next. This day wasn’t turning out at all like she thought it would.

Inuyasha looked around anxiously and then gestured towards the old-fashioned swing seat that her father had made for her mother when she was a little girl. The paint was faded and peeling and it listed slightly to one side because the chains hanging from the beams were a little off centre.

“Sit down”, he said as he steered Kagome towards it.

“Inuyasha, what’s going on?” She watched as he walked down the two steps to the lawn and moved to stand in front of her, almost treading on her mother’s petunias, his hands clenching and unclenching.

“Just… don’t interrupt.” He took a deep breath, and opened his mouth. And then closed it again.

“What is it? Can I help?” she asked, twisting he fingers together. Kagome was getting really worried. Had he come all the way across town in his best clothes to dump her and now felt unable to go through with it?

Inuyasha cleared his throat savagely. “Sorry”, he said. “I’ll get it this time.” Another breath and then, to Kagome’s astonishment, he began to sing.

 You were meant for me I was meant for you!

Kagome’s eyes blurred with sudden tears. It was unmistakably You Were Meant for Me from Singing in the Rain. His voice was actually quite pleasant, a deep baritone that went off key a little here and there as he hit the higher notes, but mostly rang true. And then, when she thought she couldn’t be any happier, he began dancing! True, Inuyasha was no Gene Kelly, but he was definitely shuffling from side to side and every now and then he even tried a twirl.

 Nature patterned you, an' when she was done You were all the sweet things rolled into one!

His expression wasn’t really that of a lover delivering a heartfelt sentiment. It was intent, frowning as he tried to remember the words and coordinate his dance steps. Once he found himself facing the wrong way, and had to turn round hastily and pick up his routine again.

 You're like a plaintive melody That never lets me free

And then he was holding out his hand, inviting her to dance with him, drawing her up from the seat and leading her down the steps to the garden.

 I'm content, the angels must have sent you And they meant you just for me!

Smiling through her tears, she let him swing her round until he came to a halt with a flourish, looking into Kagome’s eyes at last with a mixture of relief, trepidation and excruciating embarrassment. Even the tips of his white pointed ears were red.

“Inuyasha,” she said, starry-eyed. “You were singing. And dancing.”

He coughed, then smiled at her hesitantly. “I’m not very good, I know. But I-“ She pushed her fingers over his lips to stop him talking.

“That was the best version of You Were Meant For Me I’ve ever heard.” Her voice cracked a little as she stood on tiptoe to put her arms around his neck. “The very best”, she whispered, “and I should know because I’ve heard it a lot.”

He gave her a relieved grin and pulled her close, leaning down for a kiss. But before their lips met, there was a burst of applause from the back door. Kagome’s family, evidently distracted from breakfast by Inuyasha’s singing, were beaming broadly and clapping. Souta whistled.

“Excellent! Very well done!” said Grandpa.

“Kagome’s always needed someone who will dance with her”, said her mother when Kagome introduced Inuyasha to them.

“I’m not really much of a dancer”, he confessed sheepishly, glancing down at Kagome with a blush.

“You looked like you were doing fine to me”, said Grandpa, which just went to show how much he knew about dancing.

Her mother, it appeared, knew more about what had happened yesterday than Kagome had thought.

“I have to admit young man, I had my doubts when you called me yesterday evening. When my daughter arrived here she was very unhappy”, she said, regarding Inuyasha with the severity she reserved for shoppers at the fruit market that squeezed the avocados hard and then put them back. And then she smiled. “But, you seem to have redeemed yourself. Welcome to the family.” Kagome giggled at Inuyasha’s wide eyed expression.

“We don’t like Kagome being unhappy”, her grandfather added. “She was born for laughter.” He broke off as the doorbell rang and her mother clicked her tongue as she checked the time on the kitchen clock.

“That’ll be your friend, Souta. You’d better let him in and then finish getting your soccer kit organised, we need to leave in fifteen minutes.” She turned back to Kagome and Inuyasha with a twinkle in her eye. “If there are to be any more song and dance routines, you’ll have to keep the noise down, I’m afraid, unless you want a larger audience.”

“I think once was enough”, said Inuyasha ruefully. He took Kagome’s hands as her family disappeared. “Was… once enough, Kagome?”

“Yes”, she said, her fingers tightening around his. She knew just how much that dance must have cost him. “Oh, Inuyasha, I can’t believe you did that for me! Especially after yesterday.”

“It was the only way I could think of to tell you how much I love you”, he said softly, stroking back her fringe. “I remembered what you said once about your job. That even though everyone in the company works hard to put a show together, being part of the backstage crew is always faceless because the audience is only there to see the actors shine. I wanted to show you that you’ll always shine like a star to me.”

Kagome’s throat was so tight, she could hardly talk. “Inuyasha…” was all she managed to choke out.

“I love you, Kagome”, he said, his eyes locked on hers. “If you want me to sing and dance for you every day, I will.” He grinned a little, one fang poking over his bottom lip. “You never know, I might even get better at it.”

“You don’t need to do that”, said Kagome, finding her voice at last. Drawing her hands free, she reached up and put them on his shoulders, feeling his strength and his solidity. “You don’t need to dance for me, or sing for me, Inuyasha. You just need to be you. You just need to be there. You just need to love me.”

“Now that, I can do”, said Inuyasha, so obviously relieved that a daily song and dance routine would not be required that she laughed, giddy with happiness. He laughed too and kissed her soundly, lifting her up and swinging her wildly around in a circle. Wild joy surged along her veins, and she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back. The kisses didn’t get too heated, both of them very conscious that they were standing in her mother’s garden and could have an audience at any moment. But the promise of heat was there, and Kagome shivered in anticipation.

“I missed you”, she mumbled at last between kisses.

“I missed you too. You were gone for less than a day and it felt like a year.” He held her tightly, and she leant against him with a great sigh of contentment. “My apartment sounded so empty without you singing in it. I had to leave that damn musical running to fill up the silence.”

“Really?” giggled Kagome, delighted. “So that’s where you learnt the words! And how did you work out the dance routine?”

“Ah.” Inuyasha breathed out a deep sigh. “That was Jakotsu. When you wouldn’t answer your phone, I kinda panicked. Shiori said you didn’t go home, and Sango didn’t know where you were either. I called the theatre to see if you were there, and Jakotsu answered. When he worked out who I was, he made me tell him everything. And when he asked what I was going to do to win you back and I said I was going to sing for you, he said I couldn’t do it without a dance routine too. Made me come to the theatre to learn one. Longest fucking night of my life.”

Kagome giggled even harder. “He probably enjoyed himself.”

Inuyasha rolled his eyes. “He said that if you were prepared to talk to me after seeing the way I danced, you must really love me.”

“He’s right”, said Kagome, standing on tiptoe to kiss him again.

“Now you know why I was so nervous when I arrived. I was terrified I would lose my nerve.”

“I’m glad you didn’t. That’s a song and dance routine I’ll never forget.” Her smile faded. “Seriously, I know how hard that was for you, Inuyasha.”

“I felt pretty stupid. But sometimes, taking a risk and letting go means you can win everything you’ve ever wanted. And I want you Kagome. I want this relationship to work. If you feel I’m taking you for granted, please tell me. I’m sorry I didn’t notice before. I’ve just lived alone for so long, sometimes I forget. I'll make an effort to ask you more about your day, and the very next show at the theatre, I’ll buy a front row ticket. I know I’m not very romantic, but if you like, we could start going out for dinner. I could bring you flowers…”

Kagome shook her head, smiling. “It’s okay. I don’t need flowers. And I don’t need by the book romance. Your dance routine… now that was romantic. All I need someone who’s prepared to take a risk for me, someone who’ll grit his teeth and make a fool of himself to show me that he loves me.”

“And I need someone who’ll make me laugh and push me out of my comfort zone and make me feel”, said Inuyasha, gathering her into him for a long, sweet kiss, then sighing in contentment as he breathed in her scent, nuzzling his nose into her hair.

“So, about yesterday”, he asked carefully. “Are you feeling better today?” Kagome sighed.

“I am so, so sorry about yesterday”, she said. “I started on a new type of birth control, an injection instead of the pills I usually take, and I think it’s not a good fit for me. I’ve never felt that out of control before. I think I need to go back to my doctor and discuss it.”

“Would you mind if I came too when you have your appointment? So I know what’s going on? You really worried me yesterday Kagome", he said seriously, stroking her cheek. "I didn’t know what to do.”

“You would do that?”

Inuyasha scoffed. “Well, it’s not like you’re taking the birth control just for you”, he said, a light dusting of red on his cheeks. “And if it’s makin’ you feel bad, I want to know the right things to do.”

In the garden, a blackbird started to sing, a pure trill of joy. Kagome felt the sunshine on her shoulders and Inuyasha’s warm arm around her, and when she pressed her face into his throat and breathed in the scent of his skin, she thought she would shatter with happiness.

“I think I feel a song coming on”, she whispered, snuggling her head under his chin.

“Yeah?” he said. She could hear the smile in his voice, feel it as he kissed the top of her head. “I don't mind that. Just as long as it’s a duet.”