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hyprfixate · 2 years ago

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hold on tight ↝ [L.F.] :: part one

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ summary: you're unhappy. you're almost certain that there isn't anything in this world that can make you happier, and you're right. what you don't account for, however, is something otherworldly flipping your life on its head. or, should you say someone

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ pairing: lee felix x (she/her) reader

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: 3.3k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ tags: angst, non idol au, fantasy au kind of, felix is an angel literally and figuratively, mentions of suicidal thoughts without going into detail, reader is depressed, she/her pronouns used for the reader, slowburn, strangers to lovers, putting angst again bc thats how much angst there is.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ author’s note: i wanted to post the whole fic at once but college + adhd + eds = no writing time :(. so here’s part one! i hope you guys enjoy it <3

(ignore formatting mistakes i beg </3)

You open your eyes to find yourself, of all places, in an elevator.

You’re not exactly sure where you expected to be, but an elevator was definitely not in the realm of possibilities.

“Um… hello?”

As expected, no one answers you.

The elevator is moving, though, and it dings with each floor that it passes. Your eyes nearly bulge from your head when you see there are 4,000 floors this elevator can go to, and you’re only on the fourth at the moment. With a sigh, you slump against the wall and prepare for the long ride ahead of you.

“Great,” you mumble to yourself. “Just another place to be stuck in.”

Your pessimism is one of your worst qualities, you think. While there is very little about you that you would deem “good”, your pessimism seemed to be the overarching issue, not only for you but for those around you.

The dinging of the elevator grows bleary, and as you pull up to the 10th floor, the ding sounds more like the low groan of a dying man. The doors part slowly, and you come face to face with what looks like a waiting room.

Is this some kind of joke?

A plaque on the wall reads “Purgatory”, and just under that plaque is a plentiful head of sandy brown hair. The owner of the head looks up with a grin, and you’re nearly mesmerized by his beauty. Perfectly sculpted features on the most symmetrical face you’ve ever seen, with freckles littering his face and cheeks like flecks of gold in the sand. To add to his otherworldly good looks, his body is outlined in a pale gold, flickering like the flame of a candle. Your eyes roam his body for identification, but the name tag on his shirt is too far for you to read. You continue to hold his gaze as the grin on his face falters.

“Um. Hi?”

Collecting himself, he clears his throat, shuffling with papers on his desk. “Hi,” he manages out. “My name is Felix, welcome to purgatory. Can I get your name please?”

Your name comes out in a voice just above a whisper, and he hurriedly types it into his computer. The room is silent while you wait,and you notice he’s purposefully avoiding your gaze. The awkward energy in the room comes to its peak when after a moment, his thick eyebrows mesh together in confusion.

“Sorry, could you repeat your name for me? I may have misheard you.”

You nod, repeating and even taking the time to spell it out, letter by letter. Felix’s face is still scrunched in confusion as he mutters the letters back to himself under his breath. Moments pass, and the confused look does not leave his face.

“Do you… have another name by chance? A birth name?”

“No,” you say carefully. “I’m not adopted or anything.”

“That’s.. weird,” he mutters. “Your name isn’t coming up in the system for some reason.”

Your breath catches in your throat. “What do you mean?”

Felix reaches over to the front of the desk, grabbing the phone off of the receiver and holding it between his ear and shoulder. “Everyone gets a death report,” he explains as he punches in some numbers. “It details which part of the building you go to, how long you have to stay in this department, the people you left behind— all the technical stuff. For some reason yours isn’t coming up.”

He holds up one finger as the person on the other line answers, turning away and talking in harsh whispers.

There’s a feeling of anxiety brewing in your stomach as he talks, and you feel like you could throw up.

Felix’s conversation wraps up quickly, with a satisfying clack once he puts the phone back on the receiver. “Guy will be down in a second,” he says. The soft smile is back on his face as he gestures to a plastic chair nearby. “Please, have a seat.”

You nod wordlessly as you make your way to the decrepit looking chair. There’s a sneaking suspicion in your brain as to why your report won't come up, and you hope to all powers above that you’re wrong.

You take a few deep breaths, trying to calm your pounding heart as you wait for Guy to come down here and explain what’s going on. From the corner of your eye you see Felix sneaking glances at you, scribbling furiously in a notebook as he does. The glow around his body is growing brighter, almost blinding you. You’re about to mention it when the ding of the elevator catches your attention.

Both of you turn your attention to the entrance of the office, watching as a couple walks in, hand and hand. They smell like fire and burning rubber, and judging from the bright red mark across the girl’s throat, a car accident did them in. Felix sneaks one more glance at you before putting away his pen and turning back on his customer-service smile, asking the couple the same questions he asked you a moment before.

Unsurprisingly, their reports show up as expected. Felix prints them out and says comforting words to the couple, sliding a box of tissues to them when the girl starts to weep. He points them in the direction of a grand staircase before wishing them well. As they disappear up the stairs, you notice a pair of feet coming in the opposite direction.

“Oh! There’s Guy. He’ll sort this all out.” Felix’s customer service grin is back on his face, but you notice apprehension and questioning in his eyes.

Guy steps into the room, and you’re immediately overwhelmed by his presence. He’s absolutely massive, and his face glows so bright you can barely make out his features. All you see are his eyebrows, mouth, and nose. He rests the file folder he was holding on the front desk, leaning forward with ease.

“Hey,” he says. “You called, Lixie?”

The brunette nods, gesturing in your direction and introducing you. “Uh, she came in earlier, I took her name, but nothing came up. I think something’s wrong with the computer.”

“That’s… interesting.” Guy turns towards you, eyebrows raised. “Hey there. Can I get your name?”

You tell him your name, spelling it out for him the same way you did for Felix. He nods quietly and opens the file folder, flipping through documents quickly. The anxious pit in your stomach grows with each passing second, and it’s taking everything in you not to throw up right then and there.

He reaches the end of the folder, confusion appearing on his otherwise blank face. He leans over the counter and turns the computer monitor towards himself, typing in your name and clicking around several times.

“See,” Felix says, his large eyes peering up at Guy. “Nothing.”

Guy stands up to his full height, placing his hands on his hips and sighing. He shakes his head and lets out a huff of air that sounds almost like a laugh. Felix’s big brown eyes never leave his face, even when Guy picks up his manilla folder and tilts his head in the direction of the staircase.

“You two, please follow me.”

It’s obvious from the way his eyes go wide and sparkly that Felix has never been in Guy’s office before. He bubbles with childlike curiosity as he looks at the books on the shelves, taking time to read their titles and inspect their binding while Guy scours through his desk for– well, you’re not sure what he’s looking for. You assume it’s important though, as he’s mumbling to himself as he searches (you swear you hear a few expletives come from his mouth as he does). After a minute or two, he produces a much older looking manilla folder. This one is stained with who-knows-what, and it’s covered in dust particles and stray pen scribbles. He tosses the folder onto his desk with an exasperated sigh.

Seemingly only now remembering that you two are there, Guy gestures to the loveseat next to his desk. “Sorry! Please, take a seat.”

The two of you shuffle over silently. Felix sits at the edge of the couch, hugging a throw pillow to his chest.

You tuck your hands between your knees, seeking warmth and comfort. You’re tired and extremely confused– for the most part. Though you’re almost certain why you’re here, you still have a lot of questions about what the front desk worker, Felix, has to do with any of this.

Guy looks over at the two of you, and you can see his lips are curled into a small, soft smile. “There is really no easy way for me to explain this,” he starts. He reaches a hand up, and you assume he’s running it through his hair. “I guess I’ll start from the end and go backwards. You two can’t stay here.”

Your eyebrow quips upwards, but Felix makes a face that looks like he’s just been kicked out onto the street. You suppose that really is the case.

The brunet next to you stutters and his voice shakes. He’s confused, rightfully so, but you keep your eyes pinned to the floor in front of you. Guy simply holds up a hand and pleads with Felix to let him finish.

“Felix,” he continues. “Have you ever noticed that you’re surrounded by a–”

“Gold outline?”

They finish their sentences at the same time, and Guy nods. “It’s a rare phenomenon. Extremely rare. I’m sure before today you’ve never seen anyone else with one.”

Your attention peaks at that, and you glance up. You’re about to ask who else has one, when you catch sight of yourself in the reflection of the window behind Guy’s desk. You look the same way you remember, but you’re surrounded by bright, flickering gold light. It shines around you like sparklers on the fourth of July, the same way you noticed Felix’s did when you were downstairs in the lobby.

Felix meets your gaze in the window and nods. “What does it mean?”

“Well… For you–” Guy’s attention shifts to your direction, “- for you it’s a sign that you’re here before your time. You shouldn’t be here yet. You shouldn’t be dead yet.”

The anxious pit in your stomach widens and swallows you whole.

You barely register Guy’s explanation to Felix of what he means. Panic engulfs your senses and you’re trying your hardest to hold it together. You don’t want to cry in the afterlife (betweenlife?), you did enough of that when you were fully living.

Of course, you think. Of course you’re here before you need to be. That would just be your luck right? Despite the months it took to gather the courage to take that final plunge into darkness, you’ve still somehow made a mistake– one that seems to take more than just a quick fix.

You notice, through your spiraling thoughts, that the voices around you have stopped talking. You lookup and notice Felix’s eyes are on you. His expression reads pity, and you scowl, annoyed by the thoughts you think are running through his mind. You turn your attention back to Guy, and you’re grateful that you can’t make out his eyes.

“Are you alright?”

You nod. “Sorry. I must have zoned out.”

Guy nods slightly, knowingly, but he chooses to continue with his speech rather than to dwell on it. You dig your nails into the palm of your hand and force yourself to keep focused. Felix swallows thickly and decides to turn his attention away from you.

“Where was I?” He rubs his hands together in thought, clapping softly when he gets back on track. “Right. Now, while that might be the case for her and for other people, you glow for a different reason, Felix. Almost the opposite, actually.”

It’s Felix’s turn to look confused and anxious. He rubs his hands against his thighs. “I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”

Guy slides the dusty old folder to the edge of his desk as an invitation for Felix to take it. He reaches over for it, and with wide eyes he notices his name stamped on the top right corner.

“You’re very special, Felix,” Guy continues. “Everyone who works here was alive at some point, except for you. You’re what we call a wandering spirit.”

You glance over at Felix, who’s brown eyes are vacant as he peels through the file. “What… what does that mean?”

“It means that you have a purpose, a very specific purpose on Earth, but your spirit was born before its time. That’s why you’ve been here for so long. Your job here at purgatory was busy work, just a time passer until the day you’re needed on Earth. And it seems like that day is today.”

Guy lets out a long, watery breath. “Felix Lee, I would like to formally introduce you to your guardian angel assignment.”

“Guardian angel?”

You blink curiously. “I’m confused.”

“Well. His job is to watch over you, protect you, keep you out of harm’s way.”

“I get that,” you mumble. “But why does all of that matter if…”

You trail off in the middle of your sentence. Realization rears its ugly head like an unwanted pimple, and you freeze on the spot.

Guy doesn’t even get the first letter of your name out of his mouth before you’re disagreeing, anger and fear taking over your actions like a wounded stray animal. You’ve managed to propel yourself halfway across the room before you even realize what’s going on.

“I’m not going back,” you cry, anxious hands wringing together feverishly. You avoid Felix’s gaze, trying to keep your focus on the massive man seated behind the desk. His mostly featureless face looks surprised at your outburst.

“Wait, what? What’s going on?” Felix quips. His big brown eyes shift between you and Guy as though he’s watching a ping-pong match.

Guy sighs. “Felix, your assignment is to go to Earth and watch over her. Make sure that she doesn’t…”

“Doesn’t… what?”

“Kill myself,” you deadpan. He whips his head in your direction. “You’re coming to Earth to make sure I don’t kill myself.”

Said “guardian angel” drops the folder in his hands, sheets of paper fluttering down to the floor. His ears are beginning to grow red, and he mumbles apologies as he makes quick work of gathering what’s fallen to the floor. When he sits up again, he looks directly at you. His eyes are wide and his lips have flattened into a thin line. Felix stares holes into your face, a myriad of questions swimming in the back of his mind. He opens his mouth as if he wants to say something, but he closes it again.

“I’m sorry,” Guy says. You can’t tell who he’s talking to. “I know this is sudden, I know that this isn’t what you, either of you, expected or even wanted.” His gaze settles on you before he continues. “But you don’t belong here. Not yet. There’s so much more for you to learn about and discover.”

You shake your head furiously. “No.” Your voice comes out stronger than it feels. “No, I can’t go back. I don’t want to.”

There’s sympathy on Guy’s face, but he isn’t wavering. “I’m sorry.”

Felix has remained silent, staring at the ground in front of him with an alarming amount of focus. His hands are clasped together over the folder in his lap, but his leg is bouncing at an incredible speed. For a moment, you imagine the panic going through his mind: he’s being forced to leave the only home he’s ever known to play babysitter to someone who doesn’t even want to be alive. His problems take a back seat in your mind as you mull over that last part.

Someone who doesn’t even want to be alive.

Guy is speaking again, this time to Felix. You can’t find it in you to listen, or even pretend to be listening. Your mind is swimming with thoughts, memories of your life and everything that led up to this moment. You’re shaking, knees wobbly and trembling as you realize that you’re once again destined to be stuck in a situation you don’t want to be in. Your eyes dart around the room and you begin looking for an out; a window, an air vent— if it came to it you’d close your eyes and pretend that you weren’t even there.

Guy stands up and begins walking in your direction. You inch closer and closer to the corner, only for him to walk right past you. You notice that there’s a small, unassuming door in the wall behind you.

“There’s really no time for any more questions,” he murmurs. “I have to get you two back to Earth where you belong.”

“Wait…”

Felix’s voice is hoarse with trepidation. He’s still staring at the ground, body slightly trembling as he gathers up all his fleeting thoughts in attempts to make a coherent sentence. “I don’t… I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing.”

“Everything you need is in that folder, Felix.” Guy’s booming voice has an edge of softness to it, the kind of fondness only achievable by a parent. “I know you can do this. Both of you. Everything is going to be okay.”

Guy reaches a massive hand towards the doorknob. He’s shaking a bit himself, and you imagine he’s feeling nervous about sending Felix away from the only home he’s ever known. From what you’ve gathered, Felix is the only one who’s been here as long as he has. He must feel like a son to Guy, and now he has to watch his son leave the safety of their home for the first time.

The door in the wall opens, and a bright light floods your senses. You squint from the corner you’re huddled in. There are tears streaming down your face, and it is taking every ounce of your control not to begin screaming and throwing yourself around on the floor. Guy turns around, motioning for you and Felix to come to the door.

“This passageway will take you back in time by a few days,” he says. “From there, it’s all in your hands.”

He looks over at you, calling your name softly. “It’s okay,” he says. “You can do this. You can go back. You won’t be alone.”

Against your better judgement, you look over at Felix, whose freckled face is also littered with tears. His big, brown eyes are still downcast, but sensing your gaze he glances up and gives you the smallest smile. He scrubs his cheeks with the back of his hand before he reaches out to you. “We can do it,” he whispers.

There’s desperation in his voice the next time he speaks. “Please. Let me do this.”

Only hesitating slightly, you uncurl yourself from the corner of the room and take a step towards Felix. He closes the gap between you two, slipping his long, slender fingers in your grasp. He gives your hand a squeeze, then looks up at Guy. They stare at each other for a moment before Guy steps out of the way, allowing space for you and Felix to walk through the door.

Felix takes the first step, letting the hand connected to yours stay behind him. Your feet feel heavy, but you allow yourself to get pulled a bit. With one final watery sigh, you follow him into the white light. It swallows both of you whole, and you feel both weightless and weighed down at the same time. Felix’s hand seems to disappear from your grasp, and before you can fully register it, you feel yourself falling from a great height.

#lee felix x reader #lee yongbok x reader #lee felix x you #stray kids #stray kids fic #skz feliz #skz x reader #skz x you #lee felix fanfic #lee felix #lee yongbok #stray kids felix #skz fic #hyprfics #felix fic

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chaoscriess · 2 years ago

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Hey I was wondering if you’d be willing to do a Billy Loomis x reader fic where reader is a writer and loves writing and reading many genres but the group’s favorites stories that reader writes are horror stories? Maybe Billy requests a few from her (or them if you wanna make it gender neutral) and maybe even reader puts clues together about Billy being connected to the murders based on his specific details or whatnot but reader still loves him bc this is fanfic lol 😂

oh my gosh I love this idea!!! it's so cute, I had so much fun writing this! may not be exactly what you asked for... my mind wandered, sorry!!

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒! mentions of death, cussing, billy loomis should be his own warning lmao, gets a little smoochy but no smut

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒! lowercase intended, unedited, still on mobile, format might be weird. this is technically a modern au! doesn't exactly go with the scream timeline, but it's okay, we'll ignore it, sid and billy were never together in this! double periods are always intended in my work!

billy loomis x writer!fem!reader

you had been friends with tatum and sidney for years, not being very close to them but still talking to them occasionally. they had known about your love for writing and they supported you. when you met billy, he told you it was stupid, that you'd never get big in the writing community.

you knew he didn't like you very much, you didn't care, but it still hurt.

billy was insanely attractive, you could admit that, but what you'd never admit is that you had feelings for the boy.

after months of knowing him, you started to realize it. soon after you realized, you decided he'd never like you back.

well, actually..

billy loved you. he had been watching you for months and he fell in love with you without even meeting you. when he finally did, he knew he couldn't make it obvious.

sidney told him about your little crush on him and told him to make a move.

so he did.

"y/n! open the window!" you heard shouting through your window and turned to look at it, gasping when you saw billy outside. you quickly moved to your window and opened it. "what the hell are you doing here?!" you stared at him with wide eyes, waiting for him to respond, but he only crawled through your window and sat on your bed, next to your open laptop. you noticed he was reading it and quickly moved in front of him, pushing it behind your lap. he frowned and reached for it, only to fail as you grabbed his hands and placed them in his lap. "hey! I was trying to read that." your face turned red at the thought of him reading your work, you couldn't let him read it. he would hate it. he would tell you it's horrible, that you're disgusting.

the piece you were working on was about a girl with a name that was 'coincidentally' very similar to your name. she was being roughly fucked by ghostface, the killer that had been terrorizing your town for the past few days. you couldn't act out your fantasies, so you wrote them out. billy grabbed the laptop and read a few lines before smirking and looking up at your red face. "damn sweetheart, I didn't know you were into this kind of shit". you turned your head but he reached his hand out and turned it towards him. he kissed you. he fucking kissed you. you couldn't believe it. he moved the laptop with your lips still attached and leaned you back on the bed. he bit your lip as he placed his hands on your waist, moving them up and down slowly. he broke away and looked you in the eyes, saying "I fucking love you" before continuing to touch you like he was deprived of sex his whole life.

before you knew it, you two were a couple. you didn't know why or how he loved you, but he did, and that's all that mattered.

every weekend, he would climb through your window to catch up on your latest story, sometimes requesting for you to write some new erotic story about that killer called ghostface. he quickly picked up on your favorite things to write about, and ghostface was the number one. he constantly told you that your ghostface stories were your best.

one night, when he crawled through your window, you noticed he had a fresh cut on his arm. you were concerned, questioning him nonstop for the two hours he was at your house. he told you he got cut jumping over a fence on his way over there, but you didn't buy it.

the next day, you saw him at school. you took his hand in yours, looking at it closely and noticing dried blood under his nails. you dropped his hand and looked at him with a questioning look on your face, and he got up, saying he had to use the bathroom. when he came back, the blood was gone.

a couple of days pass, and more people die. you start to put the pieces together, finally deciding to ask if he was ghostface the next time he came over.

"baby, I need to ask you something.." you paused, waiting for him to look at you or respond. he was looking at his lap, obviously knowing that you knew. "okay um.. well, I've noticed some things... like, over the past few weeks.. about you.. and the killer." he looked up at you, making eye contact before turning away once again. "baby I'm not mad.. I think it's kind of hot" he looked up at you, surprised that you said that. he looked confused, obviously not expecting you to be okay with it. "really? you're not mad?" you smile at him, shaking your head before speaking again. "no, I'm not mad, silly! I mean... some people are dying but.. as long as you don't kill me or anything"

he never did

every night after he killed, he would come over and tell you how it went, giving you ideas for your stories. eventually, you piled them all together and made a book. of course, you changed the names and slightly altered the ways they died, but you always stayed true to the theme.

you never published it, of course. you just let your friends read it and posted it to an online forum. it got pretty popular, getting thousands of likes. you were proud of yourself, proud of billy and stu (but mainly billy)

eventually, you did publish a book

it wasn't about the ghostface murders, but it still got popular fast.

it was heavily influenced by the murders and your relationship with billy

the book was about a girl who was unknowingly in a relationship with a serial killer, but ultimately found out and started killing with him. they would kill their enemies or people who tried to flirt with them, and then they'd go home and act like nothing happened. it brought them closer together, basically fixed their relationship. at the end, they got caught because they stayed at the scene too long. they were shot by the police, dying in each others arms.

you hated it, but billy seemed to love it.

so did your friends. well, the ones that were still alive..

sidney hated you for it, but you didn't care

you had billy, and billy had you. life was perfect.

#billy loomis x reader #ghostface x reader #billy loomis #scream #billy loomis fic #scream fic #chaos calling!#chaos' army

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vermillionmars · 3 years ago

Text

BUSINESS — !!

michael afton x reader

cw/tw ; legit just profanity

a/n ; i wanted to uh,, try writing dialogue first and writing around it. i don't think it went that well, but eh. the dialogue by itself has been in my drafts for months,, i wrote it on the bus lol. i have no clue what to name this </3,, OH ALSO misery business bc...fnaf...misery...businesses...child death...

“ — IN THE BUSINESS OF MISERY ! ”

"[Y/N], I love you, but there is no way in Hell you're convincing me to buy that." Michael frowned behind his white bear mask.

"Why not? He's only $5!" You retorted, crossing your arms at your lover and business partner (sort of, he did most of the work, you were just along for the ride).

"Do you even know the damage he could cause? That thing is probably the most dangerous animatronic I could possibly buy." Michael was clearly not going to be convinced, and rightfully so, as the robot was such a danger he was sure to cause a lawsuit or two (or three or four). Still, you tried.

"But—but Mikey! He's so cute!" He was! In your mind, at least.

"'Cute?' He's a bear with, like, one eye." He sighed. He would never understand you, or your weird love for nightmare fuel or just down-right ugly animatronics. Then again, Michael wasn't the most 'normal' person either.

"Aww, is someone jealous of ol' Lefty? Don't worry, Mikey, I love you more!" You cooed, and though you couldn't see his expression through his mask, you figured by his tone he was feeling cocky.

"You better."

"Well, if you're not gonna buy Lefty, how about, uhm...Pigpatch...?" You tried compromising with him. The cute pig played on his banjo all day, and you quite liked his songs! Even if, while not playing, he mumbled some disturbing things, you thought he was sweet.

"No, that thing is ugly." His reply was instant.

"Hey! Stop making fun of the animatronics I like!" You weren't legitimately upset, but you did wish he would let you have a little more say in the pizzeria's management. Yes, it wasn't technically yours, but it would've been nice for him to listen! Even if, uh, you were very, very bad with making good decisions...

"Well, stop liking the clearly ugly ones." Michael retorted.

"You have zero right to talk, you like Mr. Hippo!" Mr. Hippo was your sworn enemy (not that the hippo knew that). From the moment Michael had ordered him, you had decided he was the worst thing you had ever set your eyes on. Your poor ears were subjected to his long ramblings about his outings with his friend, Oliver the Elephant...

Wait...was it Oliver, or Orville?

"Mr. Hippo is *not* ugly! And his stories are interesting!"

"Nuh-uh! They bore me to death! And the children too!" What person, let alone kid, wanted to hear the purple hippo go on and on about his friend almost killing a couple of ducks?

"You just have no taste."

"You watch that stupid show all day, can it!"

"Hey, The Immortal and The Restless is not stupid! It's very thought provoking and engaging!" It was a story about a human and her vampire lover, who kept denying his paternity. Yeah, quality content right there.

"Oh, just say you like cheesy soap operas and move on!"

"Well, uh—you—you like...!"

"I like...?"

"You-you like stupid things!"

"But...I like you. Are you calling yourself stupid, Mikey~?" You laughed.

"N-no...I like you too, though..."

"Hehe, as you should!" You'd be quite heartbroken if he told you after all this time that he didn't actually like you romantically. And pissed. "Anyways, look—Lefty's discounted! $1!"

"I'm still not buying him."

"Damnit."

#x reader #five nights at freddy's #fnaf x reader #michael afton #michael afton x reader

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yesimwriting · 4 years ago

Text

The Promise of Rain, Blurb 3

Technically the third in a blurb-ish series (though this is kinda long for a blurb lol) but can technically be read as a stand alone, but i think the other parts make this seem more significant lol

A/n kinda angsty, not sure if i loveeee this but i haven’t posted a fic in such a long time bc of graduation chaos but now it’s summer and i’m working on a lot of requests/stories :))

Summary: jealousy is out of place when there’s no real warrant for it, and sometimes it’s okay to be content--to not need the rain to make you promises.

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x sunshine-y! reader

Tiredness dulls the part of me that craves the rambunctious, but I’m still positive. I smile when someone does something only the truly inebriated find comical. I laugh when something somewhat actually funny happens, and I let the world around me drink. Twenty minutes--in twenty minutes I will claim a headache and go upstairs.

“You okay, y/n?” Jesper’s concern would border on genuinely considerate if it wasn’t for the slightest hint of slur in his words. Nights in which he consols himself after losing game after game are when he’s the friendliest. “You’re strangely quiet--you’re never quiet.”

I press my lips together oddly, smiling in a way that finally reaches my eyes. Jesper’s nice in an oddly particular way when he’s tipsy. Overly observant and careful. “Just a little tired,” I shift in my seat, leaning back against the plush seat in Kaz’s office, “I wish Kaz would just get here and dismiss us so I can go to bed.”

Jesper smiles, lifting his arm slightly and causing his glass to sway. Kaz is not going to take it well when he realizes that Jesper was extremely involved in the downstairs celebration. He turns ungracefully, moving to sit next to me with no warning. I half-heartedly glare as he takes up most of the small couch.

“You’re grumpy when you’re tired,” Jesper hums, stretching his casually.

I sigh once, but it lacks any bite. “I do not.”

He smiles easily, tilting his head so far to the side that it falls against the back of the seat, “No...but I know the real reason you’re grumpy.”

Rolling my eyes, I suppress my instinctual reaction. That would only expose his words as true. “I am not grumpy, there is no reason--”

“You know he hated it.”

I exhale, tired and slowly losing my fragine hold on fake tranquility. “Yeah.” That should make it better. “I know.” It doesn’t--it doesn’t make anything better.

So the contact we so desperately needed on our side took to flirting with Kaz. It was an uncomfortable situation because of its precariousness and I was worried because I know about his issues with touch. But it’s not like I care about the flirting part. No. It was unprofessional and so easily turned messy--that’s what my problem was.

Jesper sighs, stretching even more. I let him stretch his legs over me, too tired to push him off. I sigh, setting my chin on his bent knees. “What’s with the face, l/n?”

I roll my eyes again. Sometimes having someone care about you is annoying. I take back all of my positive thoughts about him--Jesper Fahey is an annoying drunk.

“There’s no face,” despite my words, I feel my expression sour even further. Jesper’s expression shifts from that of gentle worry to teasing pride. “And if there was one, it wouldn’t be because of Kaz Brekker.”

Jesper’s lips twitch upwards, something strange tainting his tipsy grin. “I never said a name.”

“One more condescending comment, and I’m shoving you off this damn couch.”

He laughs flatly, shifting closer and making himself more comfortable. Drunk and touchy--anyone else would have been slapped by now. “You’re nicer after some of this.”

He holds his glass out towards me casually, amber liquid sloshing slightly. I blink at the liquid with slight disinterest. I’m not exactly in the drinking mood...but I’m not exactly in the mood for any of this. The sound of the door opening doesn’t phase me--it’s not Inej, because she never lets herself be heard. Kaz doesn’t say anything, taking one dull step and then another, footsteps leaching the room of any warmth. The coldness he exudes so easily as a mask is strong tonight, I haven’t even looked at him and I can feel it.

Maybe I do need a drink.

I take the glass from Jesper, taking a quick and shallow sip of the liquid. It’s offensive in smell, taste, and the way it spills down my throat. The taste is much more intense than expected, some of the liquid slips past the corner of my mouth. Somehow more bitter than this moment, the liquid leaves me ready to splutter like a child. I exhale, pushing through the burning. Jesper moves his hand forward absentmindedly, wiping a single drop of liquid from my chin carelessly. The gesture would be sweet if my throat burned less.

“Jesper,” the warmth of the alcohol takes root in my chest, “That’s--” He laughs at my reaction, coaxing a smile from me. “Like literally the worst--why do you even have this?” If this is served in the Crow Club, I’ve never heard of it, this is the kind of under the counter alcohol that isn’t mass produced.

He laughs a little more freely. “Won it off of someone passing through--I don’t always lose.”

I wrinkle my nose, “An outlier shouldn’t be--”

“Oh, shut up.” Jesper laughs again.

“Both of you ‘shut up’,” Kaz sighs, stepping further into the room, “If you need to drink, at least wait until after my meeting.” I frown, ignoring Kaz’s lingering and sharp gaze, “You should all follow Inej’s example.”

“We can’t even see Inej.”

Kaz raises an eyebrow, but he regards me with nothing but voidness. He’s never exactly emotive, but normally in moments like this something I can never interpret touches his expression, coloring it human. “Exactly.”

“You’re funnier than people give you credit for.” The comment isn’t exactly sarcastic, but it’s something lighter than I should be offering. It’s an attempt at peace, the slight stiffness between us is starting to bother me. Our usual dynamic isn’t exactly friendly, but it’s more than this. Kaz glares. “But not tonight.”

His expression hardens. “Business is business. It’s not humor, it’s not whatever you try to make it.” Right. Just like it was business when that girl spent more time hitting on him than actually revealing real information. The thought leaves my expression tight as I swallow back my instinctual words. “It’s not whatever you’re currently doing.”

It takes me longer than it should to realize he’s referring to the position Jesper and I are in. Can he relax? It’s not my fault Jesper is tipsy and touchy.

“Kaz,” Inej’s voice is soft yet determined as she emerges from the shadows. It’s a miracle the way she’s nothing more than a shadow until she chooses not to be. “What’s our next job?”

Prompting Kaz in order to prevent a fight--Inej, always the closest thing to a mom available. I give her a partial smile, glad that she’s wedging herself between us and the tension, preventing conflict I’m too tired to follow through on.

“A merchant’s house,” he begins slowly, “We’ll be searching a merchant’s house but I’m seeking evidence more than property.” Jesper swings his legs off the couch with no warning. My head falls. I glare at Jesper who offers me a slightly apologetic tsk before dropping his head on my shoulder. Kaz must note the exchange because something in his expression tightens. He’s extra irritable today. “I’ll disclose more tomorrow,” he sighs once, already turning away, “Most of you are beyond listening tonight anyways.”

He’s at the door before I can tell him that I’m not drunk. The door opens and closes, but Kaz’s heaviness lingers like led. I frown, letting my head fall to the side, resting on Jesper’s.

“He’s weird today,” I mumble, unsure if I want a reply.

“He’s always like that,” Jesper breathes, “You’re losing your novelty, y/n--he always learns to harden himself against anything bright.”

The words leave me even more tired. “I don’t think I’m particularly bright.”

“Kaz does,” Inej replies, “And it has nothing to do with ‘novelty’, Jesper’s just cynical when he drinks.” I don’t know if I believe her, but I like knowing that Inej thinks that. “And Kaz can’t harden himself against you, and he hates that.”

I press my lips together, straightening my spine. “I’m not that great, and whatever Kaz does or doesn’t harden himself against doesn’t affect me at all.” My nails press into the plush seat. “I don’t even know why we’re talking about this because whatever he does or doesn’t feel doesn’t matter to me.” I force myself up, doing all I can to seem perfectly calm. “All I care about is going to bed.”

Turning my head, I start to approach the door. Kaz has been strangely cold all night, and while I’m used to his moods, he hasn’t exactly directed them at me so fully since the day he caught me waiting for him to wake up after he almost died. If he wants to go back to how it used to be, then it can. Maybe I’ll care in the morning, when the growing weight of my eyelids is no longer a distraction.

“Sometimes the two of you confuse me,” Inej begins, “And sometimes I see you try to deal with emotion and I see the common ground.”

The words leave me cold. I don’t think being compared to Kaz is an insult, not when there’s so much it could mean. He’s much more complex than he wants to be. There is goodness within him, gilding the parts of him that are more shards than anything else.

I exhale, refusing to turn. Inej is too observant for her own good. “There is no emotion.”

“I’m not going to waste my time arguing over that because I know it’s a waste of time.” She pauses and I consider turning around in hopes of reading something less honest from her expression. “I’m just telling you as a friend that one of you needs to be mature and talk to the other tonight before the tension gets worse and that it’s not going to be him.”

She’s right. I exhale, “Do you think I should let him go?” Even just saying that leaves my heart aching. I know instantly that that’s not what I want, but it might be what he wants--it might be the best option. I might have the strength to let him go if I work at it. “I don’t--that’s not what I want and I’m not sure I could, but maybe that’s selfish of me.”

“Y/n.” I turn slowly, but I purposefully avoid her gaze, keeping my head down. “I know that I’ve known Kaz longer than you, and I know that when he’s getting along with you he’s,” she trails off, uncertain, “More him, in a good way.”

My heart swells, and with that comes feelings of panic. I never wanted to change him--to make him better or worse or anything; all I’ve ever wanted is to know him and to maybe help him with his burden. And to hear that maybe I’ve done that from someone so close to him--someone so observant and aware. That’s everything. And that terrifies me. Nothing good can last; nothing that seems to be all you could ever want actually is. I know that from life before the Crows, before I ran away from the castle I called home.

“I think he does the same for you.” I’ve never really thought about Kaz’s effect on me outside of the fact that he makes me feel warm in small moments and painfully seen in large ones.

I smile because she’s trying and she’s given me something. “I’d say I’d tell you when I make my decision, but something tells me you’ll know.”

She nods, expression shifting to something kind. “Goodnight, y/n.”

Jesper stretches out on the couch, settling himself comfortably, “Night, y/n.”

“Goodnight, guys.” I disappear past the door easily, heading towards my room.

I haven’t decided whether or not I’m going to look for Kaz tonight. How much damage could be done in one night? Maybe he needs space. Maybe seeking him out now will make things worse. I exhale, opening the door to my room easily. I’ll decide before going to sleep.

When I step into the room, everything is in place. Everything is fine--but something about it feels off. The light is on. I didn’t leave the light on. Nothing else raises any red flags, so I continue into the room calmly, examining everything carefully. Nothing feels out of place as I further enter the room. I take in my bed, my dresser, and lastly my nightstand.

My heart swells all over again, but this time it feels even heavier than before. On the center of my nightstand, in perfect condition, is a copy of Pride and Prejudice. The same book I told Kaz about, the one thing besides clothing I took from the palace. I told him it was my mother’s favorite and then he asked me to read it to him.

I can’t picture him seeing this and thinking of me. I can’t picture him thinking of me--but no one else knew about my attachment to the book. I need to find him. I need to--to see him, to speak to him. To look him in the eye and see something I only ever see when we’re alone. Maybe he won’t have that look this time, but that’s okay.

I can’t expect to always understand him, but that does not mean I don’t know him.

The thought leaves me feeling a little more settled within the boundaries of my skin, but I don’t ease entirely. The good is more frightening than the bad. My fear of happiness is a benign secret I haven’t had to worry about in years. I don’t know enough about it to know how to deal with it let alone mention it to Kaz. Not that it’s his problem.

I squeeze the book to my stomach. Swallowing pride is a difficult thing, but I’m used to it with him. It’s usually worth it with Kaz because sometimes when I try he tries in his own way. I should find him. He’s not awfully creative about where he goes when he wants to be alone because people know better than to bother him. Kaz is probably in his attic or getting air outside or…

The lights were on when I came in. I’m an idiot. I didn’t feel weird when I walked into the room because of the book. Someone’s in here. He’s in here.

Setting the book down like I should have never touched it, I let out a sigh. “Lurking is unbecoming.”

“It’s also unbecoming to work for me and be so easily distracted by a book.” His voice reveals nothing as he emerges from the shadows. “I could have killed you with how long it took for you to notice my presence.” He pauses, eyebrows drawing together. “The light was on.”

Normally I’d have some kind of comment, some kind of joke that offers a more peaceful situation. “I know.” It’s a flat response. “I think on some subconscious level I knew,” I drop my gaze away from him, “I knew I was okay.” That sounds dumb. “I mean...I think I knew it was you so I knew I was okay.” Yeah, that wasn’t anymore eloquent. “That doesn’t make sense, but if you get to be confusing, I do too.”

“Confusing? There’s nothing to understand.” Curt. Simple. Dismissive.

I frown. ‘Nothing to understand’. Right, because there’s nothing confusing about how quickly he decided to dismiss me just to bring me some obscenely sentimental gift. “If you’re mad at me, you should at least tell me why.” I press my lips together. “At least that way I’ll know if I need to apologize or kick your ass.”

At that, he presses his lips together, corner of his mouth threatening to tilt upwards. “You would kick my ass?”

Great, even when he’s easing he has to be annoying. “I could.” There is no universe in which I could take him in a physical fight. “On a good day.” I let out a breath, doing all I can to not focus on his expression. Awkwardness settles in my chest as my eyes land on my bed. I sit down, trying not to let my shoulders slump tiredly as I stretch my legs across my bed. “You’re not having a good day.”

“My day is fine, I’m just not naively cheerful like you,” his words turn sharp, “Or Jesper.”

Weird addition. “Jesper’s not cheerful, he’s just drunk.” I let go of the ‘naive’ part, deciding to focus on the bigger picture. “And I’m not as naive or joyful as you think I am.” I’m not sure if I mean that as a rebuttal or just a fact. “I have bad days too.” This isn’t the kind of conversation I should have while this tired. “I could be less cheerful if you’d like.”

He’s so silent I momentarily wonder if he’s left. “No.” It’s not much, but I take it. Straightening my back, I pull my legs beneath me, intentionally creating space. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Ah, blatant rejection. It would sting if I was less in the right. “Maybe you’ll be less weird then.”

“I am not being weird.” At least I’m getting some kind of reaction from him. “You’re the one who--”

“Who what?” Finally--progress.

Kaz sighs, turning slightly. “You’re the one who decided to ignore me after we met with the contact.” I part my lips, ready to retort, but no words come. He did pick up on my slight annoyance, and he reciprocated it in a much larger way.

He can never know that this all came from some ridiculous, territorial--partial jealousy. “I didn’t mean to ignore you,” partial lie, “I’m just kind of in a weird place today, I’m tired.”

“Not too tired for Jesper, it seems.”

What? Is that what this is about? “What? All I did was sit there--he’s a touchy drunk and I just happened to be next to him.”

“You laugh with him,” he says this blankly, “You can touch him.”

The edge of unsafe territory cuts into me at an odd angle. Is this about him? Is he really tormenting himself over something so asinine to me when it comes to him? I’d rather have him than all the physical touch in the world. The book on the nightstand feels closer to me, growing by the prospect of its significance alone. That gesture, that’s more intimate than anything Jesper and I did downstairs.

“So?” I straighten my back slightly. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

He presses his lips together. “That’s the problem--anyone can manage meaningless contact…” The silence is louder than the words that came before it. Oh. I guess I’m not the only one who gets just a little jealous in an unwarranted way. “What if you were hurt? What if you were hurt and we were alone and you needed someone to help you and I couldn’t?” He lets out a sigh, a sound too tired for me to associate with him. “You say you don’t care now, but you’ll grow tired of it--the only life I can offer.”

Inej’s words about the similarities between Kaz and I echo in my mind. “Sometimes I don’t like when things are going well because I don’t know how to be truly content, fully happy.” Saying this twists my stomach. “I don’t know how to trust good things, so whenever there are good things I think about all the ways I could ruin something and then I do.” I take a breath. “I’m not saying that things are particularly good for you or that you’re happy, but I am saying that maybe you shouldn’t think three steps ahead when there’s nothing to think ahead about.” I regard his expression carefully, but nothing has changed. “I told you the only thing I want is to know you, and that’s not going to change.”

“Y/n,” his voice is low, “I am not rain--I can’t promise you anything.”

I scratch my knee, dropping my gaze. “For once I don’t want rain.”

Kaz sighs. “Get some sleep.” Something about the way he’s speaking is authoritative but it lacks any weight. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I frown freely, “Kaz--”

“You look tired,” he mumbles, “You need rest.” He’s using this as an excuse to escape his feelings, but he’s already given me more than I expected. Greed ruins things, but then again, so does selflessness. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“For the job?”

Something strange crosses his features as his expression teeters on shifting. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he repeats, a little more certain.

The response doesn’t satiate me. “Kaz--”

“I may not be the rain, but I’m capable of making promises as well.” There’s something final about the way he says this, but it doesn’t feel cruel.

Maybe I’d protest if my eyelids were less weighted. “Goodnight, Kaz.”

My head falls against the pillow. I’m not sure if he replies, too lost in the drawl of sleep before he can even close the door.

General taglist: @theincredibledeadlyviper, @grishaverse7 @benbarnes-supremacy @tranquilitymoon @kaitlyn2907 @lunamyangel @christinawxxx @deceivedeer @real-mbappe @tonks33

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x you #six of crows #six of crows imagine #shadow and bone #shadow and bone fic #shadow and bone show #my works #shadow and bone netflix #six of crows fic #soc imagine #soc fic #sab fic #kaz brekker imagine #grishaverse #grishaverse imagine #grishaverse x reader

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heavenunderthemoon · 4 years ago

Text

Line Without A Hook- Jennifer Jareau x Reader

summary: You were brought onto the team as a tech analyst to help with the new workload and find a certain blonde has taken an interest in you.

warnings: none just some angst and then some fluff

I would recommend listening to Line without a hook by Ricky Montgomery while reading bc that’s what I listened to while writing (hence the title), always, enjoy! Also go check out my other works here

"Hey, hot stuff."

Your fingers tightened around the black, government issued telephone you had been holding up to your ear, eyes flickering to Penelope who was finishing up typing in a code to help filter your search results for the unsub.

Jennifer Jareau's arrogantly smooth (in your own, professional opinion, of course) filtered through the phone with ease and successfully made your cheeks tint pink.

"Jennifer." You said curtly, and Penelope spun around in her chair, her face twinged with amusement already.

Ever since you had started working at the bureau a month ago, the team had noticed a...flirtation between you and the blonde former media liaison. You remembered your first day, how her hand had gripped yours tightly and the way her lips had quirked up when you pulled yours back just a bit too fast.

The team had watched for a whole month as the blonde had found fun in her flirtatious poking, the first time she had expressed interest in anyone since her divorce. And you hadn't had any complaints- well, any real complaints. Sure, you answered her stiffly, choosing to only call her Jennifer (because, according to her, only friends called her 'JJ' and you would vehemently attest that you were not friends), but, if you had actually been bothered by the constant poking you would've voiced it. So, she continued.

"Now, that's no way to greet your favorite co-worker." The blonde teased and you could swear you could hear the smirk in that overly-confident, pompous, velvety voice of hers.

You rolled your eyes as Penelope hit the button to put it on speaker, eyes glued to your face as if to gauge your reaction. But, over the last thirty days you had become excellent at putting on a poker face. With a dry tone, you responded.

"You're right, I'd never greet Emily that way." You cracked wittily, and a small chuckle ghosted from her lips.

They had only been gone for six hours and you knew she probably hadn't changed. She was probably still wearing that wonderful little blazer that fit her slender, toned arms so well. The one that made your eyes follow her as she moved throughout the room, that annoying, adorable little smirk on her lips because she knew it too.

"Ah, how you wound me, Y/N/N." The name grated against your ears and your lips twitched in annoyance.

You hated that nickname. You had never had a nickname before, which, you supposed should be surprising because you were well above the age that nicknames were typically given but no one had ever bothered to give you one and now that someone had (and that someone was Jennifer), you couldn't help but have your annoyance spike at the usage of it.

"Have I ever told you how much I hate when you call me that?" You asked sarcastically.

"Every time I use it." Jennifer responded cheekily, and you rolled your eyes, scooting in to your desk while Penelope giggled.

And just like that she was asking you for an address and you were dutifully searching for it. This case was similar to most you had worked on so far, though the likeness to the others did little to numb the severity of the situations these people found themselves in. You didn't know how they had all been doing it for so long. Looking at this team from the outside in had made it seem like a safe haven, a group of untouchables, of the elite. But now that you were one of them you could see that it was the opposite. That, eventually, this job chipped away at them, piece by piece. You wondered how long it would be until the first part of you left too.

The address pinged onto the corner of your screen and you were speaking into the phone once more, giving it to Jareau woman as she showered you in thanks. Perhaps it was the heat of the moment, or perhaps it was the case itself, the way the women all had blonde hair- it wasn't like Jennifer's hair, no, Jennifer's blonde was golden, like the sun itself had ventured down to earth to lay a kiss atop her head, bleeding some of its golden rays onto her long locks. Whatever the reason may be, you wouldn't particularly know because you were speaking far before you could think twice.

"Wait, Jennifer?" There was shuffling on the other end, the agent most probably gearing up as she walked to the squad cars, preparing to catch the man that had started the whole chase.

The blonde noticed the change in tone immediately. Of course she did, because you had developed a certain tone whenever you spoke with her. An exasperated, breathy, really adorably annoyed sort of tone that she knew was just for show because that cute little smile that you had, the smile that tilted down at the corners because you were trying so very hard to suppress it, always tugged at your lips. That tone was gone, stripped bare and all that remained was you.

"Yeah?" And now you noticed the change in tone, because the tone she normally used with you was irritatingly confident and poised and so frustratingly perfect that it made you automatically go in defense mode because, let's be honest, you were very far from it.

"Be safe." You said, and it seemed more like a plea than a statement and the back of your neck felt extremely hot when you recalled Penelope's presence behind you, the very excitable woman practically shaking at the small interaction and you hung up the phone before Jennifer could even respond.

"Not a word." You warned the Garcia woman, keeping your eyes glued to the screen before you. There was nothing to be done, at least, nothing pressing. You had given the address to the team. Now, what was left was the waiting. The waiting to confirm you had the right guy, waiting to make sure your team turned out okay (the standards for okay, you had learned, was that everyone was in one piece or not in jail by the end of the case), and that the paperwork was filled out.

Penelope Garcia, being that she was Penelope Garcia, did not follow your request. Her earrings jangled as she rolled her way to you, your shoulders touching as she occupied the space next to your desk. She hadn't been too thrilled at the idea of a new occupant in her bat cave. In fact, she had detested it, all but striking where Emily had brought up the idea. But, the Prentiss woman had been quite adamant about the new addition, claiming that the technical analyst needed help with the new workload as they began to take on more cases, not to mention your resume had been nothing short of sparkling.

Grumbling, Penelope had met you, her eyes landing on the woman staring at the rows of action figurines on display on the righthand corner of the room. She had watched the way you peered at them, the recognition flashing in your eyes and successfully called you out on being a nerd (a secret nerd, as she called you, because you didn't broadcast your 'dorky' interests quite like Penelope liked to.) And that had been that, the Garcia woman clearing out a space for your desk and promising not to tell anyone about your weird niche interests that she had all but pried out of you.

"'Be safe', I think I'm swooning." The Garcia woman fanned her face teasingly and you huffed, refusing to meet her eyes.

"What part of 'not a word' needed to be translated into Penelopian-"

"Peneloponese is actually my official language, but continue."

And this time you did turn to face her with a cross look, arms folded. "Very funny, we'll have to get you on Seinfeld." You said flatly.

The blonde let out a laugh, as she so often did around you. As adamantly against she had been on your presence in her bat cave, she was grateful you had come into her life. Previously, she had relied on figurines and plush animals to bring her happiness when the darkness threatened to breach her area of sanctitude but now she had you, her secretly dorky, outwardly cool coworker who very obviously had a crush on one of her oldest friends.

"I tease out of love, Y/N. Speaking of love,"

You turned back to your computer, cutting th Newman off swiftly. "No."

Penelope let out a whine. "No? You don't even know what I was gong to say." She argued, though she knew you did.

And you did. You knew that she was going to ask what the latest gossip was on you and Jennifer was because that's what she always asked and, yes, while you typically playfully denied anything going on you didn't quite this you could do that this time because this time you were far too trapped into your own brain to dig yourself out long enough to lie. You were stuck, deep, deep in there, think about all the ways in which you thought Jennifer Jareau was an actual angel sent from Heaven above, starting from the golden color of her hair and ending with the way she twirled her pens out of boredom. And you hated that you noticed all those things, mostly because it meant you spent more time than you cared to admit sneaking Ito the bullpen, making excuse after excuse just to stand there and observe the funny way she did things (she ate Cheetos for almost every meal and it baffled you how she was still standing).

But you also hated it because it meant that you liked her and you could not like Jennifer Jareau. You couldn't like her because there was no way in hell that you were dumb enough to set yourself up for failure like that, you weren't that sadistic.

You would never be able to handle the crushing weight of rejection that would inevitably come from unrequitedly liking Jennifer Jareau and, of course, it would be unrequited because how could she like you? How could she like you, someone who simply refused to read a book unless it was a physical copy (you didn't understand the appeal to e-readers because you couldn't smell the old pages as you flipped them or run your fingers along the spine as you read it. Someone who had learned seven languages, one of which was Klingon just because you wanted to see if you actually could (it hadn't been too hard but now you had to live with the fact that you actually knew Klingon). Someone who hated polka-dots. Someone who had a fear of walking over sewer grates because you thought you might just be the one person unlucky enough to fall in. How could Jennifer Jareau, the woman who always walked in to work, never a wrinkle in sight or a hair out of place, possibly like you?

Surely, the flirty nature of your conversations was just something to tease you with, something she found satisfaction in and you hated it because as much as you wished it was true, those sultry looks and kind smiles, the shoulder squeezes and over the shoulder smirks, the walks to the car and greetings in the morning, it wasn't. It wasn't true and it never would be because she was Jennifer Jareau, a newly divorced mother of two.

"Drop it, Pen." And before she opened her mouth once more your tone was softening, shoulders deflating from the tense posture you held before, slumping in vulnerability. "Please."

Penelope's lips pursed shut, the two of you sitting in that silence you had created for what seemed like eternity. The hum of the machines, something that had typically served as a sense of comfort to you, seeming to mock you, a symphony of interruptions that added to the very loud, very panicked screaming currently happening in your brain.

It was the kind of silence that you asked for but once you received but, you regretted it. The silence that enveloped you in its entirety, consuming you whole and dropping you right into the belly of the beast. You started to drown in that silence because, for you, it wasn't silence at all, it was just a big, large, bottomless abyss that served as a chasm for your thoughts to fill and boy did you have a lot of them, none of them entirely pleasant and almost all of them torturous. You felt yourself teetering onto the edge of that metaphoric chasm, tiptoeing the ledge of hate and love for Jennifer Jareau.

But, Penelope Garcia was nothing if not a savior, and her hand latched onto your still one with gentleness.

"She likes you too."

And just like that the chasm was emptying, mind going blank, going absolutely numb because your ears were ringing at even the slightest notion that Jennifer Jareau liked you. Your face must've displayed that because Penelope was continuing.

"She does, I swear, she told me. Well, she told Emily but it was Girls' Night Out and I went to get more drinks and she told Emily but you know that JJ can't hold her liquor all too well and I don't think either of them know that I know and I can't tell them that I know because then they'll know I was eavesdropping- which I wasn't! My eyesight is just really bad so I think my hearing is just hyper-sensitive-"

Your mind raced attempting to keep up with the blonde. "Wait, hold on." You throat felt dry, full of cotton and closing up by the second so you forced yourself to breathe. "She...likes me? Not as a friend but actually likes me?" And you hated how juvenile it all sounded, cringed at the concept that you had to ask your friend if the girl you liked, liked you back, but you had to.

Penelope took a breath of her own, that brilliant smile she always adorned coming back into play. A nod toddled out of her head and she squeezed your hand. "Yes! She never told me, though I think that's because everyone thinks I can't keep a secret. But she always talks about you, never shuts up actually, and the look on her face-"

"She likes me." And as cool as you always tried to look, as mature as you always claimed to be, that childish little smile that overtook your features demolished all of those walls in an instant. Your heart beat quickened and you could've sworn they were singing, singing her name, cheering it, really.

Jennifer. Jennifer. Jennifer.

"She does." The Garcia woman confirmed.

The phone ringing cut off your inner symphony, your hand flying to the phone as you answered it.

"Hello?" You were breathless and you couldn't quite help it.

"First ring. Nothing better to do than answer my calls, huh, Y/N?" And Jennifer was back on the line, the sound of sirens haunting her background. It had been almost an hour since your last call and you could safely assume she had gotten out of the situation alive, the unsub apprehended and the team beginning their victory laps.

"Don't flatter yourself, Jareau, I thought it was someone else." And because your mind had emptied, because your thoughts had gone blank, your quips weren't;t as lethal as they always were, your guard lowered.

JJ snorted. "Oh yeah, like who?"

You spun your chair around, blurting out the first name that came to mind. "Penelope." And instantly your hand was slapping your forehead.

"Penelope? Is she not right next to you?" A breathy little laugh escaped her lips and you stared at the blonde tech analyst, eyes widened and hands gesticulating wildly to which she merely shrugged.

"Uh, yeah, she is...it's a, uh, game...we play." Your excuse was weak and asinine but it was the only one you could think of and if you could astrally project out of your body to smack yourself you would but you couldn't. "Anyways, did you catch the guy?" You asked, quickly changing the subject.

If JJ noticed the awkwardness, she didn't mention it. "Yup, so you won't have to wait too long to see this face if that's what you were wondering." That confidence, the confidence that you know understood was her way of flirting and also would probably be your cause of death.

And with that new understanding, your mind simply stopped working. "Good." And at the realization of what you had just said you attempted to recover. "I mean that's good that you'll be home soon, not good that I'll see your face- not that I don't want to see your face, it's a good face, symmetrical and all that-"

Penelope was waving her hands, signaling for you to stop and your hand was covering your own mouth to stop yourself.

JJ was silent for a moment, the sound of a car door closing before she was speaking once more. "Are you okay, Y/N? You're being...weird."

"Ask her out!" Penelope hissed and you smacked her shoulder.

"Was that Pen What did she say?"

"Nothing!" You shrieked, before clearing your throat, voice returning back to normal. "Nothing, just, uh,"

The Garcia woman was back to miming and you watched as she panto-mimed a date (very poorly, you might add, but it was enough to make you relax, shoulders regaining some movement).

"Do you want to go out for dinner sometime?"

The silence you had so loathed had returned with a sickening fervor and your stomach flipped at it. "With me...in case that wasn't clear." Your hand scratched the back of your neck, hot with embarrassment toward the entirety of this exchange.

And just when you thought you might die from the embarrassment or Penelope might faint from the whole ordeal, Jennifer responded.

"Yes."

#jennifer jareau x reader #jennifer jareau #criminal minds x reader #Criminal Minds #penelope garcia

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jungshookz · 4 years ago

Note

i just saw this on tiktok & idk if it’ll make sense when i explain it but,, imagine y/n finally gets the balls to confess to someone (i was thinking yoongi but anyone else would still be cool) & does it but he has his headphones in,, the thing is he actually isnt listening to anything but he pretends that he didn’t hear her (bc he’s vv silly) and she’s just like “nvm” and then without blinking he goes “oh... well i like u too btw” & then BOOM they get married

➺ pairing; min yoongi x reader

➺ genre; unsurprisingly this is a university!au, fluff!!!!!!, friends to lovers duH

➺ wordcount: 3.3k

➺ what to expect; “i like-you like you… romantic… style… you know?”

➺ note; for the first time ever i have nothing to say but happy reading!!!! y/n’s awkward and yoongi likes to bully her whaT’s new

(original gif source unknown :-( but i found it off here!!)

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

okay

you know what

this is going to be great

this is going to go super well

you know why?

because you practiced this like, at least a hundred times over the past month!

you know what you’re talking about

you know exactly what to say and how to say it

(you might’ve written a script for yourself just to be safe)

((it’s scrunched up at the bottom of your bag))

“nothing to be nervous about…” you mumble to yourself as you fix your hair in the mirror

you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear before promptly untucking it

…and then tucking it again

maybe you should do hair tucked behind your right ear but untucked on the left ear

or does that look weird??

how about if you pull your hair up into a bun?

…

well now you just look like a freshly boiled egg, so that’s certainly not going to work.

“i’m not nervous. not at all.” you mutter, turning side to side to make sure that all angles of your face look somewhat decent

the other day yoongi pointed out some unblended concealer on your jaw so now you’ve been beating your face twice as hard every morning to make sure that everything is blended to perfection

speaking of yoongi

he’s actually the reason why you’re talking to yourself in the bathroom like a crazy person

…you like him.

well, you’re pretty sure you like him…

you pause for a split second before shaking your head

no, yeah.

you definitely like him.

the two of you have known each other for about a year now?

the story of how your friendship started isn’t all that exciting, now that you think about it

you were both in the same psychology class and he was late on the very first day and the only empty seat that was closest to the door was one that was next to you

you were hoping to make a new friend this semester but yoongi definitely wasn’t the kind of friend you had in mind

you were hoping for someone bright and chipper anD it wouldn’t hurt if they just so happened to be very intelligent and helpful when it came to coursework

“sorry.” the latecomer mumbles when his foot accidentally nudges against your backpack on the floor

“all good.” you smile politely and lean down to push it under your legs

you let out a breath before bringing your attention back to the prof

“-now, i know that not everyone likes doing this, but it is the first day of class, so how about some icebreakers?”

you resist the urge to let out a groan of protest upon the mention of icebreakers

gOD

seriously?!?!

icebreakers???

you guys have to do icebreakers??

how old do these professors think you are??

you hate icebreakers

they’re the absolute worst!

especially the ones where you have to tell people three things about yourself or three hobbies you have

because you can never come up with interesting factoids about yourself when you’re put on the spot like that

you remember last semester one of the icebreakers for your english class was two truths and a lie and to make matters worse it wasn’t like a ‘turn to the person sitting next to you’ exercise, it was a ‘everyone’s going to go around the room and share with the entire class’ exercise

and when it was your turn, the only thing you could come up with was: “i… am a human being. i… have teeth. and i… like… cilantro…?”

…

what the hell was that?

you clear your throat quietly when everyone looks at you like you’re insane

well, you technically followed the rules of the game

you aRE a human being

you DO indeed have chompers

and you hate cilantro!

but uh

out of all the things you could’ve said, those three were admittedly a little odd

“is the lie that you’re a human being? because you’re acting like an alien trying to fit in with us humans, my friend!” the girl sitting next to you (you later find out that her name is judy and you’d just like to say that you nevER liked her because she was one of those overly ‘i’m just happy to be here!!’ people that made you want to slam your face into a wall) nudges your side and you resist the urge to slap her hand away

the class immediately bursts into scattered laughter and you flash your prof a sheepish smile

so yeah

icebreakers have never been your forte and you don’t think they ever will be

“turn to the person next to you and… god, i don’t know…”

see??

even the prof seems reluctant to do this so wHY is he forcing everyone to do this????

“okay, how about this! tell them what you ate for breakfast, lunch, and dinner yesterday. you can tell a lot about a person by what they eat in their every day lives. there we go.”

you press your lips together as you awkwardly manoeuvre yourself so that you’re facing the left

you force a smile onto your face when the stranger turns to face you as well

“do you wanna-”

“so like-”

the both of you speak at the same time and you immediately clamp up

well, this is just wonderful, isn’t it?

two seconds in and you already want to hurl yourself into the middle of a busy intersection

“oh, um, i’m y/n, by the way.” you lean in a little in case he can’t hear you

“cool, nice to meet you.” he nods as his fingers drum against his kneecap, “i’m yoongi.”

“oh, cool. yeah, nice to meet you too. yeah…”

“yeah…”

oh dear god

this entire interaction just makes you want to shrivel up and die

“so… should i go f-”

“look, we don’t have to do this, like… i personally hate icebreakers and i think i’ll survive without knowing what you ate yesterday. no offense.” yoongi chuckles before scratching the back of his neck, “we can just go back to doing our own thing until the professor calls time.” he shrugs before putting a single earbud in

you pause

oh!

okay

well

that worked out in your favour

“alright, no problem. i hate icebreakers too, so…” you turn back to look at your laptop

you stare at your empty google doc as your fingers drum aimlessly against the trackpad

you turn to take a look around

everyone else is just chatting their mouths off so you feel a little awkward sitting here doing nothing

…okay fiNE you’re just going to say something

“i mean, i guess it’s a good thing we’re not sharing anything with each other because i had, like, an embarrassing number of goldfish crackers for breakfast yesterday.”

yoongi nods before offering you a tightlipped smile

you press your lips together before slumping down in your seat a little

alllrighty

tough crowd this morning!

whEn is the professor going to call time??

at least you can use this time to think about where you’re going to sit next time

maybe you’ll sit in the front

smart people usually sit in the front, right???

you-

“what flavour?” you perk up when yoongi suddenly speaks up

he’s still scrolling through his phone and noT looking at you but you’ll take it

“the cinnamon graham cracker ones.”

he turns to raise a brow at you, “what? that’s not a flavour.”

“sure it is!” you scoff and open up your browser to search them up

“i only know about the cheddar ones. and cheddar is the superior flavour.”

you turn your laptop to show yoongi your screen, “see, check it out! there’s more than just cheddar.”

“oh. wow.”

and yeah

that’s how your guys’ first interaction went!

see?

nothing to rave about

it’s funny because you remember after hanging out with yoongi for the first time (the both of you had an hour and a half gap before your other classes) you told yourself that you weren’t allowed to like him

you have this tendency to immediately fall in love with someone just because they’re nice to you

like one time, this guy held the door open for you at the library and shot you a smile and a ‘no problem’ after you thanked him and you couldn’t stop thinking about him for literally two weeks straight

you’ve given him the affectionate title of library boy

you still think about him from time to time!

so you were pretty surprised to find that you weren’t slowly crushing on yoongi a month after meeting him

(you like to think it’s because sometimes he talks with his mouth full and that’s one of your turn offs)

this was a personal achievement for you!

not falling in love with someone after one day of getting to know them?

gold star for y/n!! :D

and you were pretty sure that this ‘friendship’ was just going to be one of those semester friendships

you know, the ones where you hang out a lot solely because you’re in the same class and it’s good + convenient to have a buddy in the same class

and after the semester ends you promise to meet up with them next semester and it never actually happens so it’s just an endless cycle of ‘hey, you free this week?’ and ‘i can’t this week, what about next week?’

and eventually you just stop talking to the other person because that’s just how it is

and when you see them in line for coffee at starbucks you’ll obviously say hi to them and the two of you will be like omg we have to hang out soon!!! but in your minds you’ll be thinking something like even if the world was ending we are not going to find time to hang out

you know, that kind of friendship!

not to mention, you don’t have a lot of boy-friends in the first place so you were positive that this was a business only friendship

so you were more than shocked to see the ‘i’m starving. let’s get pizza for lunch. where u at?’ text from yoongi at the beginning of the second semester

and now, here you are!

one year later and you’re still getting i’m starving. let’s get [insert food of choice here] for lunch. where u at? texts from yoongi

the only difference between now and then is the fact that you are completely and utterly whipped for yoongi

110% in love with that man

you don’t even know what changed!!!!

one day he was telling you a story with his mouth full as per usual and instead of finding it gross you actually thought it was cute how he seemed to resemble a chipmunk

and then you started to notice other things about him that you found cute

like the way his eyes light up whenever you bring him an iced coffee

or the way he throws his head back and places a hand on his chest when he’s laughing reaLLy hard over something you said

or how he leans back in his chair before sticking his foot up on the seat in front of him while chewing on the lid of his pen

and even your tradition of flipping each other off after you hop off the bus at your stop has your heart fluttering

you really can’t explain what happened

you kind of just woke up one morning and was like:

…do i like yoongi?

omg DO I??

this is… month five of your crush on him?

the only reason why you finally decided it was time to tell him about your feelings was because you spent the entire weekend reading friends to lovers fan fiction and now you’re all revved up and ready to rumBLE

if it can happen to a fictional character it could certainly happen to a very real human being like you

and even if he doesn’t like you back (womp womp) it’ll be fine

it won’t be the end of the world!

yoongi’s always been super chill so you’re pretty sure it’s not going to destroy the friendship

if anything he’ll just use it to tease you sometimes (“hey i’m thirsty do u maybe wanna buy a drink for me? …the love of your life?”) and you’re completely fine with that

sure, it’ll be a little embarrassing to have to sit through the ‘i just think you’re a really good friend’ conversation but you’ll get over it

“look who’s finally back.” yoongi glances up at you, “did you have a nice poop???” he says loudly and you can’t help but scowl when you get a couple glances your way

he giggles to himself before looking back down at his phone

“very mature, yoongi.” you snort as you take your seat, “you child.”

a beat of silence ticks by and you feel your leg started to bounce anxiously under the table

maybe this isn’t a good idea

…

you’re not allowed to back out of this!

you literally spent so much time hyping yourself up in the bathroom

you’d have wasTed hours of rehearsing if you change your mind now

“okay, i’m just-” your voice wavers and you clear your throat quickly, “i’m just going to say something, and… and don’t interrupt me or anything until i’m done, because then you’ll ruin my train of thought.” you pause to let out a breath, “i like you, yoongi. and not, like, in general… i mean i do like you in general but i like-you like you… romantic… style… you know?”

okay

well

it seems that maybe you needed to practice what you were going to say one last time because ‘i like-you like you romantic style’ definitely wasn’t in the original script of this tragic screenplay

“to be honest, i’m really not sure what changed. i know that we’re pretty good friends and all but i just felt like i had to tell you about my feelings. you know, i… i really care about you and you’re one of the most important people in my life, if i’m being honest. you’ve always been there for me and, i don’t know… i’ve liked you for nearly five months, and the only reason why i didn’t wanna tell you was because i didn’t want to, like, potentially ruin our friendship? oh, and it’s totally okay if you don’t like me back, i just figured you should know! i mean, it’s literally fine if you don’t feel the same way, and you don’t have to give me the whole pity speech because i know from firsthand experience that you’re literally the worst at trying to make someone feel better so… yeah! i guess that’s all i had to tell you. i like you.”

you twiddle with a strand of your hair nervously as you conclude your little speech and wait for yoongi’s response

…

yoongi looks up at you before plucking an earbud out

“what?”

you immediately feel all the blood drain from your face

he… he didn’t even…. he didn’t hear a sINGLE thing of what you just…

you just poured your heart out to him and he was listening to music this entire time?!?!?!

if anything, this is a sign from god

this is god giving you a chance to rethink the whole confessing your undying love for yoongi thing

this is god telling you that you should thank Him and spend the rest of your life praising Him for saving you from a lifetime of embarrassment!

you swallow thickly before letting out a nervous chuckle, “wh- what?”

“did you say something?”

“me? i did, but it’s not important.” you wave it off before letting out a scoff, “it’s whatever. it’s… yeah, it’s fine. all good.”

“‘kay.” yoongi sighs as he plugs his earbud back in, “but for the record, i like you too.”

“yeah, well-” you look back up at yoongi quickly

what did he-

did he just-

are you hearing things??

“um-” you shake your head quickly before leaning in a little, “sorry, what?”

yoongi sets his phone down before reaching up to pluck out both his earbuds

“did i stutter?” he sniffles before folding his arms and putting them on the table

you blink

you can’t tell if he’s joking or not because of the complete lack of emotion in his face

like that one time you were really upset over completely bombing your midterm and yoongi looked at you with the pokeriest of poker faces and was like: “this one, single test doesn’t define your intelligence. you’re one of the hardest working people i know and you’re a very diligent student. i’ll help you study for your next midterm. i believe in you.” and you were just like ?????

so right now with yoongi telling you that he likes you back..,., you genuinely can’t tell if he’s teasing you or not

“i don’t… i don’t know what you’re saying…” you feel like your eyes are going to dry out from how wiDe they are

“i’m saying that if you asked me if i wanted to go and make out with you behind the bookshelves right now…” yoongi hums as he leans back against his chair, “i would say yes. i would even go as far as to say hell yes.”

??????

what is happening?????

are you having a fever dream???

is THIS what a stroke feels like???

“actually, i’m starving. let’s go get some food.” yoongi gets up from his seat before grabbing his backpack and flinging one strap over his shoulder

you feel like you’re on autopilot mode as you get up slowly from your seat

you’re just… trying to process… what the hell is going on…

okay

so he does like you back??

“hey-” you look over to see that yoongi’s already picked up your backpack for you and has his free hand sticking out, “are you going to hold my hand or not?”

see???

how are you supposed to interpret that???

you look down at his hand and blink at it cluelessly

so he wants you guys to hold hands??

“for god’s sake-” yoongi rolls his eyes before grabbing your hand and gently tugging you along, “i have to do everything for you-”

“oh, that is so not true!” you snap out of your trance to defend yourself, “i’m just thinking about- so you could hear me the entire time??”

your stomach does a flip when yoongi suddenly brings your hand up to his mouth before brushing a sweet little kiss along your knuckles

“i like-you like you romantic style, too.”

help me help you make your wishes come tru (aka send me a request)

requested drabbles masterlist

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skittles1229 · 4 years ago

Text

Old Expectations Die Hard (Dashie x Reader Fanfic)

Chapter One: Weird Circumstances

You know your life is complicated when the friend you always complain to says "you never have a dull moment do you?" I sigh as the weight of the world seems to make it impossible to breath. You see recently things have been rough. I lost my job and my fiance all in the same day, that itself was an unbelievable story. I was so upset and strung out on thoughts of what to do that once i got home early from work i didn't notice the extra car in the driveway. i stepped into my home and my own floors felt as if they'd given way when i saw the guy i thought i'd be spending my life with in bed, with my sister... my sister and i hadn't been on good terms for a while and for a good reason! The drugs she took either made her unreliable and selfish or crazy and murderous. He, of course, pulled the its not what you think, id never hurt you, it was a mistake, and honestly i could write a book out of the excuses i heard in the time of two minutes but maybe another time. Needless to say i left. I never thought about going back and to be honest my sister looked more hurt then i was. I took a job in California a few weeks ago and moved in with my friend (BFF Name). They always seemed to know what to say and honestly i truly believe They knew me better then i know myself.

California gave me the biggest culture shock I've ever had. I came from Mississippi, the bible belt and the most rural part of the world. California was sooooo different then what i was use to. The weather is awesome. There's lots of jobs for technical people, at least until you're 45 and then you're considered ancient and you can't possibly know anything when some 23-year old out of Stanford tells you that they know it all. (a little bit of sarcasm there) It's a great place to start a new company, money is available as is talent. The risk of starting a company is lower since you can always find a new job The politics are insane, if you aren't towing the progressive party line you should just STFU. If you even once say that Trump has done something positive, or that Obama did something negative prepare for the wrath. Read the stuff behind the recently filed lawsuit against google for a taste of what it's like. Seriously, don't say a word. The state if structurally bankrupt, although the finances look good because so much stuff is off of the balance sheet. The public pension liability dwarfs the "good" part of the budget, and some day it is coming home to roost. Watch out when it does. The cost of living is absurd, really absurd. I'm not talking just a place to live but gas, electricity, haircuts, milk, pizza, you name it. The traffic is absurd too. (can you tell i like the word absurd) The public transit, although usually on time, is a mess. People are pigs, they throw trash everywhere, the cars are overcrowded almost all the time.

I've got to say, from how much it sounds like i hate California, i actually don't. Mainly because its so far away from my original family, leaving really helped me start to grow up and feel like maybe i was getting a hold of my life again. Only problem has been getting to my new job on time. I work as a barista and a waitress at a brunch place a good minute away from the apartment. The money is good, otherwise i wouldn't waste my time with the commute everyday. i keep being late to work because i still haven't adjusted to how terrible traffic is and so my boss was "nice" enough to switch me to the later shifts. The hours are long and boring because my shift starts in the middle of rush hour to the slowest hours at the end of the day meaning you have to find things to keep yourself busy with. the only good thing is, we can wear pretty much anything we want as long as its black. all i wear is dark colors so i didn't have to spend any extra money on a uniform and i didn't have to wear the same thing everyday. Today i decided i wear a v-neck shirt that with an emperor waist (body forming) with black skinny jeans and my regular converse. i decided against driving to work and decided it would be far smarter to catch a bus to the nearest destination. My (hair color) hair was done is a fishtail messy braid, i always liked this style because it made me look like i had a head full of hair when in reality i thought i was going bald.

My personality was a little odd, you see some days i felt like the beautiful nerd who has no confidence and wants to hide away in a hole. other days i feel like a model from Victoria secrets, of course those are the days i get the most tips. today was honestly a mutual day, where id rather be at home in my bed asleep, or listening to music. The bus finally stopped a block away from my job and i sighed obviously not wanting to go into work. surprisingly there wasn't nearly as many cars as there usually is around this time but i wasn't complaining. i walk in to see that most of the downstairs was empty but whoever was upstairs definitely had a loud mouth. i walk to the back in order to clock in and i bump into melany ( the girl im shifting with). "wow you actually got here on time! Maybe the boss's mood will cheer up." i huffed a little. "yea, i dont know why i thought id need a car in California, say whats with the low level of customers? its NEVER this slow." she looked at me in disdain, "some guys reserved the entire upstairs and we had to make this huge table out of all our tables up there, glad im not gonna be the one fixing it later." i rolled my eyes, i hated when a huge family came in and they just had to move everything around because little johnny wants the sit next to suzzie and suzzie HAS to sit by her parents bc she likes to throw her food on the floor, all fake names but a real situation ive been in before. "well have they at least been fed so that i only have to clean up after them?" she shook her head while hanging up her apron. "nope, they've only ordered their drinks and they are getting those onto trays now." so today was gonna be like every other day. "guess i better go help them take those upstairs then, have a good rest of your day." i walk away and slip on my apron, grabbed one of the trays of drinks while another waiter grabbed the rest of the drinks. Once i got upstairs, that's when i met him...

Chapter Two: Last Will and Testament

He was sitting on the far end of the long table of people laughing and joking. everyone seemed to be loud and all had their own inside jokes. This guy, he stuck out. i changed my attention to the task at hand, finishing this shift. i hated when people moved all the tables and seating around. all the waiters and waitresses have to go back behind them and look at the layout of the floor to put them all back exactly as they were before. it was a struggle and because of this nobody actually wanted that job so usually the manager gives it to her least favorite workers and i happened to be one. "who all had coke?" nobody answered me so one of the men bellowed out the same line and somehow was able to get a show of hands. i walked around handing out drinks, catching the lingering smell of strong liquor. i could tell by the end of tonight they would all be wasted and loud. please, just don't make more of a mess then you have to, i thought to myself. i had one drink left on my tray, "sweet tea?" the guy i saw before at the end of the table waved his hand and i dreaded going over there, i always seem to make a fool of myself when it matters.

i make my way slowly down the table with the tray under my arm and the tea in my hand. i lean over to sit his drink on the table.."here's your t-" *CRASH* while joking with one of his friends his elbow crashes into my hand sending the tea flying all over me and the cup crashing to the floor, thank god i wore black. he turned around and looked more horrified then i did. "i'm sorry! i'm so sorry!" his voice was deeper then i imagined it'd be. "no, it my fault i'm sorry ill get you a new one." i turned away to hide my embarrassment and walked away really just trying to get away from the situation. i could tell from the silence behind me that all eyes were on me. i ran to the back where the lockers were for the service. i went to the bathroom and stripped the sticky clothes off throwing them aside. i sat on the toilet trying to catch my breath, my social anxiety had struck me hard. a feeling of worthlessness and dread fell over me like a blanket. after the past few months i've had just one day without something terrible happening would mean the world to me. i heard a knock on the door, it was melany, she walked in with a towel from the kitchen. "hey, i heard what happen upstairs are you ok?" i covered my breast trying keep myself as unexposed as possible. "oh yea im fine, im just cold, and sticky, and... covered in tea." melany and i made eye contact and both laughed just to lift the dread in the air. "let me guess, all the guys are getting a kick out of watching me fumble again huh?" i said a little less concerned and more annoyed. she rolled her eyes "they are boys, they get a kick out of picking their own nose. we both slid to the floor beside each other, she hands me the damp towel. i get most of the sticky off as possible, throwing my hair up to make it look less clumped together by the sugar. "i have an extra black t shirt in my locker but i don't know how it will fit you. your breast are at least a size larger then mine." i shrugged my shoulders, "who cares ill make do. thanks for your help melany." she smiled her weird anime girl smile and ran to get the shirt from her locker.

ill have to admit, she was right about the size thing. it was far to small around the chest area but the rest fit fine. after the incident my boss stuck me down stairs wiping tables and sweeping the floor, i dont mind though because i get to experience the day coming to an end with a beautiful sunset over California. i secretly kept the the window to watch as the sun fell from the sky. the sky seemed to burn and darken while the clouds began to glow with the last bit of sunlight left. the sky filled up with burning Burgundy and faded orange and yellows, the tallest buildings seemed to reach for the skyline as if it were a sunflower moving to the last drip of sunlight. moving here had been hard, and this had become one of the things i looked forwards to. living in the apartment with my friend was nice, buts its not the same as coming home to someone you use to lay with every night. sleeping alone seemed so much colder and emptier then i remembered from childhood. my mother would be so disappointed in the way i turned out, in the places id gone and the decision to spend my life with someone who was most obviously the wrong one. she would have told me to slow down and to take my time, that growing up wasn't everything. she would have said love isn't something you just wake up and have, its something you make. i wasn't anywhere close to where i thought id be by now, and i could see that. it tears at my heart everyday, not being able to see her or any of my family. sometimes it felt as if they'd all died in the fire that night.

i suddenly heard a boom of voices making their way down the stairs, i hadn't realized how close to closing time it had become. all of them walk out stumbling and laughing at their own jokes, seems they all got a good bit of drinking in, all except one. The guy i ran into on accident seemed as sober as ever, designated driver i think, he was much taller now. he seemed muscular but in such a fitting way for his body. his teeth sparkle because their so white, his smile complimented him best. his high cheekbones made his chocolate brown eyes his best feature. His skin was glowing with a sweet honey hue and before i could notice that i was staring he turned his head. his eyes met mind before i could think twice and that's when i felt the heat rise to my cheeks. weather it be from embarrassment or silly school girl shyness i didn't know . i turned my face away but it was too late, i turned my face a little just to catch a glimpse of him before he made his way out of the door and that's when i noticed his cheeks had gone from a burnt caramel to a rosy color. i felt my body shiver at the thought that maybe, just maybe he found me as attractive as i found him. i shook the thought from head realizing they had began locking the place down. as i helped close up shop and wash dishes i couldn't help but to let my mine wander to all different kinds of thoughts, funny thing was they always fell back to him and his rosy cheeks. i couldn't help but smile as i felt my heart race at the thought of him, even though id made a fool of myself today i was glad i hadn't ruined my chances. Even if he'd never get with me or i wouldn't ever see him again, i'd still take it as a compliment that he even looked my way.

before long we were all outside laughing and talking about today. The manager locked the doors and said his goodbyes. i turn to walk towards the bus station when i see a man standing aside awkwardly between the restaurant and the parking lot. suddenly my eyes adjusted and once they did, the joyousness butterflies came back and the blush suddenly reappeared on my cheeks..

There are lots more chapter after this if you are interested you can find them here

https://my.w.tt/sosFRmianbb

#dashiegames #dashiexp #dashie x reader #fanfictions #fanfic #self insert #romance

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petersmparker · 5 years ago

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Luck (Peter Parker x Reader)

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Out of all the things you could have guessed might happen at Flash’s party, this wasn’t one of them.

Word Count: 3749

A/N: hey uhhhhhhh did I mention that I’m a fucking sucker for Peter and Flash becoming weird vaguely confusing bros by the time senior year rolls around bc i am. anyway have fun with this Almost Spicy fic cause ya bitch was in the mood to write character interactions and General Nonsense

You had told Peter that something was going to happen at the party. No matter what you did, you couldn’t talk yourself out of the feeling that something– though you didn’t know what– would occur. Things never really go the way you’d expect when you’re with Peter, after all. Surprises follow him wherever he goes, as you’ve learned these past few years, and to attempt to expect any one outcome is silly.

To be honest, you’ve never really truly gotten used to that.

It’s just beginning to become dark and chilly outside when Peter’s old beater pulls up to the curb outside Flash Thompson’s house. Colored lights flash through the windows and the sound of music blares out the open front door. When you climb out of the passenger seat, Flash’s voice calls through the speakers, riling up the party crowd.

“This is giving me a bad feeling,” you sigh, somewhat nervously, as you adjust your skirt and tug the front of your blouse down a bit.

Figures you’ve worn the one that inches up over your chest weird. Damn it. You should just go home.

The door to the back seat slams shut, the hinges squeaking in protest. “Come on, Ned, you’re gonna take the door off,” Peter scolds lightly, making his way around to stand next to you, “This thing’s older than you.”

“Sorry, car,” Ned says quickly, before throwing his arm around your shoulders, “Anyway, you say that every time. I think it’ll be fun.”

“I guess,” you submit, and deliver a pat to his back, “I know Flash has really toned the attitude down since sophomore year, but I’ll never get used to showing up to these things.”

Ned drops his arm and starts heading up the walkway. Again, Flash’s voice rings out with a Make some noise, Midtown Tech!, followed by a blaring air horn. You stifle a laugh. The sound effect has always been hilarious and always will be. Of all his DJ-ing habits, it’s the only one you’ve never completely hated. It eases some of your tension.

Objectively, you know it’ll be fine. You, Peter, and Ned have gone to these before and enjoyed yourselves. It’s really just a matter of finding a nice spot with low traffic and a good line of sight for the spectacle. Maybe a bowl of chex mix. You’re simple folks.

But even so, you’ve got the feeling that something is going to happen tonight. You can’t tell if it’ll be good or bad. The anticipation is uncomfortable. You adjust you shirt again.

God damn it.

You catch Peter’s line of sight following your hands as you attempt to casually yank your shirt back into place by the hem that’s supposed to be just below your chest. It’s a bit awkward. You catch his eye, and he blushes, looking apologetic. You don’t blame him, because you know you look silly. Calling him out on it seems equally silly because of it.

He shrugs off his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders without mentioning the exchange.

“Let’s go before we lose Ned,” he suggests, and leads you down the pathway to the porch.

Your friend has already made it inside. There is a group of people gathered in the entryway, looking up the stairway. You can see a dude from the soccer team crammed inside a plastic bin on the top step.

“They’re gonna push him down, I think,” Ned supplies, somewhat needlessly, when Peter taps his shoulder to let him know you’ve caught up.

“Boy, I hope,” you respond, “I don’t need to be a witness, though.”

“Onward then,” says Peter, amusedly.

As you move on into the large living room, a series of bangs and hollering comes from behind.

“Nice,” Ned says, appreciatively, as he continues to watch while walking away.

Flash has set up his equipment across the room on a raised platform in front of the fireplace. Like every other time you see it, you wonder what the actual purpose of that landing is, besides being a stage for Flash’s moderately sick beats to be thrown six times a year. He’s bent over a set of turntables, one hand holding his headphones in place as he rocks in place. After a moment, he looks up to address the crowd.

He sees that your group has arrived, and it’s not hard to guess what’s coming.

“Hey, Penis Parker!” He shouts, slamming the air horn button a few times, and adding a booing sound effect for good measure.

Peter smiles and waves good-naturedly. The old jokes don’t quite have the effect that they used to, nor are they intended to. Flash waves back and looks down to his table again. He announces that the next tune is for the new arrivals, and transitions into an obnoxious, yet highly amusing and catchy song that had been frequented by the academic team as of late.

So far, so good.

With no small amount of luck, you discover a loveseat and an armchair that are free from partygoers and are quick to snatch them up for yourselves. Ned throws himself into the chair and you take it upon yourself to sprawl across the sofa. Peter ducks into the crowd and toward the direction of the kitchen in order to secure snacks to hold the group over.

The likelihood that you’ll leave this spot is minimal, aside from maybe a dance or two once goaded into it by a jeering crowd, spurned on by the host. The three of you enjoy parties best when approaching them more casually.

Peter reappears several minutes later with two bowls of salty snacks and three drinks balanced in his arms. Unexpectedly, he also brings with him another person. MJ follows closely behind, allowing him to do the work of pushing through the dancers, and greets you and Ned.

“I found her searching the kitchen cabinets,” Peter explains, arranging the snacks on the coffee table and taking his designated spot to your left.

“That’s not weird at all,” Ned responds, taking a drink from his red plastic cup.

Michelle shifts the contents of the table so that she can sit on it. “I’ll keep these oreos to myself then, Ned.”

“I think you’re perfectly valid,” you grin, and are awarded with a cookie, “Everyone knows that the good shit doesn’t get offered until the after party.”

It’s still innately bizarre that you’ve even attended these after parties, even a year after you’ve entered this perpetually weird snarky-friendship circle with Flash, but that’s beside the point.

“If anyone asks, we didn’t take them,” she asserts.

Peter laughs and takes a handful of chex mix from the nearest bowl. “You can’t coerce me into dishonesty,” he says.

As he speaks, he selects a rye chip from his bounty and holds it in front of your face. You eat it immediately, without question. He loves the rye chips, but knows that they’re your favorite.

“Yeah she can,” echoes all three of you, and Peter shoots you a playful look of betrayal.

With the addition of MJ, it’s decently easy to drift through conversations despite being in the center of a rowdy and distracting house. Drifters join the conversation for short periods of time before being dragged back to the main excitement. Even Flash, taking a break from his DJ-ing, stops by.

“Those are for the after party,” he says, sounding entirely unsurprised as he points to the pack of oreos in Michelle’s lap.

She squints back at him. “What is?”

“Alright, cool, I hate you all,” he responds, sounding way too chill for such a statement.

He claps his palm against Peter’s in a friendly gesture before walking off.

“See you there!” Ned calls to his back.

Flash has already disappeared into the crowd, but his middle finger appears above everyone’s heads.

“Still weird,” you feel compelled to point out.

“Yep,” Peter agrees, throwing his arm back around your shoulders, “Still weird. Do you think he’d be like this if he didn’t know I was Spider-Man?”

“Absolutely fucking not. Not at all,” Michelle says without a second of thought.

She’s probably right.

Of course, Ned hadn’t been bluffing about going to the after party. Technically it’s an attend-with-invitation type of thing, but it’s a bit of an uncommunicated agreement that your group is invited nowadays. The bulk of the party filters out as it gets late, leaving much of the academic team and a smattering of other friends of Flash.

You figure that you know what to expect. A continuation of what your group does during the actual party, except now all the attendees are gathered in a loose circle to participate in the conversation. Maybe a card-based party game; normally an inappropriate one. The usual.

Of course, it was only a matter of time before the usual was disrupted.

When Peter is around, that’s bound to happen. He’s a beacon of off-luck. Not bad per se, but not what you’re planning for. After no more than thirty minutes of the comfortable environment you’re so used to, Flash offers to break out a game.

“Not again,” groans a girl whose name you haven’t learned despite having seen her at around three of these events, “We do that every time.”

“What else would we do?” Flash demands around a mouthful of chips, looking a bit offended, since he loves the usual game.

“We’re practically graduating,” says another girl, who is looking around the room like some kind of predatory bird.

Her gaze lands on Peter. You realize very suddenly how much you don’t like that. Without thinking, you shift closer to him. He doesn’t notice, but her eyes sharpen. It’s with a supremely uncomfortable feeling in your stomach that you realize that you’re acting possessive. It’s not like you’re dating, really.

“When are we gonna play something more mature?” She questions, moving her sight away. “Seven minutes.”

MJ scoffs. “I’m pretty sure that anyone who thinks seven minutes in heaven is mature is inherently immature.”

“Yeah, alright, fine. Who’s in?” Flash says, as casually as if she’d suggested a game of Monopoly.

Aside from you and your group, everyone else seems to be willing. And here, you were starting to think that there was the slightest amount of normalcy in your inclusion here. You wonder what in god’s name they’re thinking. Who the hell wants to be shoved into a closet and forced to feel up a friend?

“I’m out,” MJ declares, looking unapologetic, “Wouldn’t exactly say I’m suited to this game.”

Flash shoots her a finger gun. “Support your local ace,” he says, which you assume is supposed to be nice, “You’re in charge of the timer.”

“Whatever,” she responds, and exits the circle to sit off to the side, taking a bowl of chips with her.

You shift in your seat, about to join her, when an empty bottle is tossed into your lap. “You start,” says the girl who’d suggested the game.

She’s expecting you to chicken out, you realize. It’s beyond childish, but the idea of it makes you angry. It makes you want to play, just to spite her. You wonder at what point she decided to pursue your best friend, and at what point someone pursuing your best friend became an issue for you.

Who are you kidding?

You glance at Ned, who looks awkward, but it doesn’t seem like he’s leaving unless you and Peter do. And Peter– well, his expression is unreadable. There’s a flash of something in his eyes when you meet them, but you don’t want to consider it. Too much is going on in your head already.

With maybe a little too much force, you slap the bottle down on the table and spin it. It turns for an eternity, approximately, before it begins to slow. You couldn’t physically feel any more uncomfortable, you think, when it eventually slows to a stop. It’s pointing at Flash.

He looks about as uncomfortable as you feel. “Hold on,” he says, throwing up his hands, “I don’t like that.”

“Thanks,” you say sarcastically, despite your wholehearted agreement.

“Respin,” he demands, pushing the bottle away.

“Coward!” Exclaims MJ.

You make a mental note to have a conversation with her about timing and context, because it seems her sense of both need work. To much jeering from several members of the group, Flash insists on a respin anyway. He does, however, agree to just suck it up and sit in the closet quietly for seven minutes with the next person he doesn’t want to kiss. It’s a dodged bullet, but now you’ve got to go again. As if the anxiety of the first time wasn’t enough.

Chest tightening, you spin it again, just as hard. The room watches excitedly, but you’re feeling nothing but dread. Regret has hit you already. You shouldn’t have allowed yourself to get caught up in this. It wasn’t your business if some girl wanted to kiss Peter in some cramped, dusty closet.

You’re so busy berating yourself for acting ridiculous that you almost fail to recognize the verdict that befalls you. The room erupts in hollering before it even fully stops spinning. Peter tenses next to you.

It’s pointing at him.

“Closet!” Flash exclaims over the excitement of the group, arm thrown out in the direction on a door in the hallway, “Let’s go! Come on!”

“You can’t come, Flash, you said you didn’t want to kiss her,” Peter quips, but his voice has taken on that tone that you know for a fact is a bluff.

He’s not nearly as calm as he’s trying to sound.

Flash’s hand comes down hard against Peter’s ass when he attempts to scoot by. Peter yelps, looking scandalized. Flash ushers him forward. “Watch it, Parker! You know what I meant. Get in there!”

Heart and mind racing, you lift yourself out of your seat. The girl who’d started this mess gives you a venomous look. You can’t bring yourself to deal anything back to her.

What have you done?

Peter and Flash are already at the closet when you finally shuffle your way over. MJ is just behind you, looking only vaguely apologetic. She knows you got yourself into this. Her phone is ready with a seven minute countdown. There’s shuffling in the living room as everyone begins to make their way excitedly toward the spot where your life will momentarily end. Vultures.

Flash steps into the closet and snatches a little key off a small hook just inside the door. When he exits, he pushes Peter’s shoulder and sends him stumbling inside. He’s polite enough not to attempt to shove you. It would be a lot easier to get on with this if he did, though.

“Lights on, lights off, I don’t care,” he says as you step in. “Don’t make a mess. This is where we keep the nice coats. Dry cleaning is expensive.”

The door slams in your face before you can protest against his insinuations. There’s the distinct sound of the lock clicking, and Michelle calls through the door that the timer is started.

Peter reaches up to pull the chain that operates the overhead light, and you nearly jump out of your skin. Your back hits the door. “Oh, shit!” Someone says on the other side, and you feel your face heat up even more than it already has.

Peter gives you a sheepish smile. “Sorry. Should have warned you,” he says.

You glance around. To the right are the aforementioned “nice coats” that you very much want to ruin just to spite Flash. Behind Peter are several sets of shelves with various odds and ends. To your left, a waist-high cabinet that contains who-knows-what. You guess it’s not that cramped, or dusty. Whatever.

Peter shifts awkwardly where he stands. Neither of you say anything for what feels like a year, but it’s probably more like a minute. “Don’t forget to breathe,” Flash’s voice drifts through the door, teasingly.

“Mind your business,” you shout back without thinking.

Both the laughter and Peter’s expression alerts you to the fact that that was not the correct thing to say. He chuckles, too. His smile makes your chest hurt, so you look away just as quickly as you had begun. Again, you reach up to adjust your blouse.

He takes your hand. “Hey,” he says softly, stepping closer, bending to catch your eye, “Nothing has to happen. We can just wait it out.”

You can’t help but narrow your eyes at his phrasing. You keep your voice low too, in the hopes that the peanut gallery outside can’t hear. “Has to happen?” You question, “Sounds like there’s the option for something to happen, if I feel like it.”

“Isn’t there?” Peter asks.

Oh.

You want to respond so badly. The words can barely even form in your mind, let alone making it all the way to your mouth and out into the world. What response is there to finding out that your best friend, whom you’ve maybe been trying not to fall in love with for a long time now, wants to kiss you if given the opportunity? Is there one?

Yes, you think, finally. There is.

Peter’s still holding your hand. You take advantage of it and pull him forward, your free hand coming up to wrap around the back of his neck. When you pull him to you and press your lips against his, it’s soft. You’re jittery beyond belief, but you’re not rushing this moment. It’s a simple kiss, lasting only a few seconds. You can feel his smile.

When you pull back, you’re greeted with a grin that’s almost familiar. But there’s something different there, something you’re not accustomed to seeing in his expression. He’s still close enough for his breath to be hot against your face.

Peter kisses you again. This time is far more desperate, more excited. His hands come up to either side of your head, angling you to gain better access to your mouth. You’re backed up against the door as he moves in even closer to you. The impact, while minimal, elicits an amused gasp from you.

He takes advantage of your open mouth to introduce tongue. Every part of your body lights on fire. You clutch his shoulder, feeling dizzy, and delight in this new experience. It’s genuinely unfair how good he is at this, considering his lack of practice.

He pulls away just enough to kiss the underside of your jaw, and you jolt in surprise. The door shakes with your movement. Outside, the crowd gets a little rowdier for a moment.

Shit, you mouth, slapping a hand against your forehead. It’s so embarrassing.

Peter is more flushed now then ever, but he continues on, braver than you’ve ever been. Without any warning, he hooks his hands around your thighs and hoists you up onto the cabinet. Incredibly, the movement isn’t nearly as loud as you figure it could have been. His mouth slots back against yours within a fraction of a second.

You feel his hands drift across your waist, not touching skin, but definitely examining the curve of your hips. He presses his body closer, flush with the cabinet, and your legs spread to accommodate him. One hand finds its way into your hair, sending an involuntary twitch down your spine.

The door clicks unlocked.

You freeze. Peter doesn’t. In a millisecond, he’s back to the other side of the closet. By the time the door swings open, he’s managed to cross his arms as if he’d been standing there comfortably the whole time. You can’t bear to look at the people in the doorway, so you stare, hard, at his face instead. The possibility that you might give away what’s just occurred is a bit too much to bear.

Peter’s face is redder than you’ve ever seen, blush spreading down across his neck. He had turned toward the door when it opened, his expression struggling to hold some sense of calm. He had been too caught up in it all to care who was outside while the door was closed, you know, but neither of you really want it to be confirmed in front of god and everyone that he’s thoroughly ravished you in the nice coat closet.

As fast as you can without making eye contact, you look at the intruders, who are still attempting to assess what had occurred moments before. It occurs to you that maybe they hadn’t actually expected any kind of follow-through in this scenario. To be fair, the likelihood had seemed terribly minimal. Even with such a quick glance, you can tell they aren’t sure what did or didn’t happen.

“Who’s next?” Peter offers up, sounding embarrassed and very much like he’d like to move on, but still managing to at least look like he hadn’t been about ten seconds from doing something extra inappropriate.

Your thighs are still spread almost enough for it to be a legitimately horrifying issue. When you risk another look, you see MJ squinting at them. The desire to shut them is strong, but you figure it’d be easier to pass it off as being unladylike if you don’t act like you’re embarrassed by it.

What a nightmare.

“That was quick,” you say in an attempt to end the awkward silence.

Peter reaches his hand out to you. Taking it, you hop down onto the floor. You move toward the door to leave, but the crowd doesn’t disperse to let you through.

“What was the banging on the door?” Questions Flash, staring suspiciously at Peter.

Because he’s a terrible liar, you answer instead. “Bang one was Peter scaring the shit out of me by turning on the light, bang two was me trying to get up onto this fucking cabinet. I’m short, dude. Get lower furniture.”

Mercifully, they accept it as a legitimate answer. The crowd parts with a distinguished air of disappointment. Peter brushes his hand across your back when you move to leave the closet together. Before you even have time to worry about what’s happened, his smile assures you.

Later, parked in the driveway of your house long after Ned has been dropped off, Peter pulls away from you mid-kiss and shoots you the most smug expression you’ve ever seen on his face.

“And someone had a bad feeling about that party.”

You kiss the stupid look off his face, trying not to laugh.

#peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fic #peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader #peter parkerxreader #peter parker reader insert #peter parker self insert #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman fic #marvel fanfiction

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messrprcngs · 5 years ago

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* I STILL LOVE YOU .

SUMMARY : daphne greengrass broke up with you two months ago because she’d stopped loving you; at least that’s what she told you. she still wants to be friends with you, which you’re having a bit of trouble dealing with, because you’re still in love with her golden trio era PAIRING : daphne greengrass x reader ( i meant to write this as a female reader because BISEXUAL DAPHNE but then it came out as gender neutral so that’s cool !! because it means y’all can read it however you want ! ) WARNINGS : at this point angst is a given with any writing i do hdnsknd. uh alcohol consumption by technically underage parties. not really a warning, but you can read this as the reader being bi or pan bc of One scene but ? you could just be making out with a guy on a whim if that makes you uncomfy. WORD COUNT : 2385 A/N : yes, this was the angst i promised y’all. i’m working on venusenthium part three, don’t worry. i was just feeling a lot of feels and this is how i’m dealing with those feelings. it’s not as good as i could have made it ( also, the title needs work ), in all honesty, but i like it, so hopefully you do, too

"y/n, love, i . . . i think we should break up. i'm so, so sorry, i just . . . i don't like you like that anymore."

that was how daphne greengrass had broken up with you.

the rest of the interaction with your now ex-girlfriend went a little something like this :

you hadn't known how to react at first. you'd needed some time to let what daphne had said sink in. when it finally did, your hands began shaking where they sat on the library table.

"you - you what ?"

"you heard me," daphne said as she glanced away from you, and though words like those weren't typically nice when coming from daphne's mouth, this was different. her voice was soft, and you could hear - you could hear the pity in it. the sound of it made your stomach and your heart drop down into your feet. "i want to break up, y/n. i'm sorry, but i think it's best. i don't want to keep leading you on like this."

that's when you'd felt the tears coming. you blinked them away as best you could.

you'd been expecting it, honestly. expecting the day daphne would break up with you. the signs had been there : she'd been ignoring you lately, not replying to the little notes you'd leave in her textbooks and leaving rooms abnormally fast when you entered them. she'd kept making excuses about having to help astoria with studying, needing to finish up her own homework, and stuff like that. she wouldn't always reply when you told her you loved her, but would instead shoot you a small, soft smile.

you'd been expecting it; you just hadn't been expecting it so soon. and there wasn't much left to do besides accept it.

"all right," you whispered, and you hated the way your voice cracked. your throat felt sore and raw, as if you'd already been crying for hours. "i understand, daph."

daphne had looked surprised at that. "you what ?" she said, incredulous, as she pulled her hands away from the table and stood up straight. "you aren't . . . you aren't mad ?"

you shook your head, and turned away from her to begin packing your books back into your school bag. "i understand that you don't . . . feel that way about me anymore. i can't do anything to change that, as much as i wish i could."

when you finished putting your stuff away and had your bag on your lap, you'd looked back up at daphne for a brief moment. merlin, she was breathtaking.

her hair looked as perfect and soft as ever, and her light lips looked very kissable. she was smiling at you, clearly relieved that you weren't angry with her. your heart had contracted looking at her then, and it did the same thinking about her now.

"i want us to still be friends, y/n. i love you, i really do. but as . . . as a friend, love." there was that pity again. "please tell me we'll still be friends, even though we're not dating anymore ?"

you'd nodded as you stood and pushed your chair in. "of course, daph." and then you'd walked away, the tears finally free to pour down your cheeks.

you weren't sure if you were going to be able to get over daphne anytime soon, or even ever. but you promised yourself as you walked away from her that you were going to try, and you weren't going to use other people to do it.

˗ ˏˋ ∘ ⠀: ⠀• *

that was two months ago. and you still feel like absolute shit.

at this point, you were sure that daphne had been lying to spare at least some of your feelings when she told you she hoped you two could still be friends. you had barely spoken to her since the break up, except for one time a week afterwards when you ran into her at the three broomsticks and had a semi-pleasant conversation about the weird sisters' new single.

sure, you'd been avoiding her for the most part, but that was because it still hurt like hell. any time you'd see her, that pit of anguish and anxiety would begin to fester, and you'd feel like you needed to throw up.

it had occurred to you in the time that you and daphne had been broken up that maybe she hadn't broken up with you just because she'd stopped loving you. maybe . . . maybe it was because she had finally realized that she was too good for you, which was something you'd been telling her from the start.

whenever you'd said it while you two were dating, she'd scoff at you and tell you it wasn't true, and that you should put a little more effort into loving yourself because you were 'perfect' - her words, definitely not yours.

you'd stopped saying it a little bit before she'd broken up with you, but maybe . . . maybe she'd been thinking about it even without you saying it, and had become aware of the fact that she was too good for you.

and that - all of that pain and doubt and lack of real closure - had lead you to attending a big bash being thrown in the hufflepuff common room. the party had been organized by a group of gryffindors, but they'd chosen the hufflepuff common room as the party site as it was neutral ground. they wanted the hard stuff they knew the slytherins would be able to get but wouldn't share with them if the party was in their own common room.

unfortunately, it had also led you to making out with ernie macmillan in the middle of the hufflepuff common room while that big bash continued on around you.

kissing ernie wasn't ideal - he was nice, sure, but not exactly your type, despite the blond hair. but he was only a few inches taller than you, and if you closed your eyes tight enough, you could pretend - if only a little bit - that you weren't kissing ernie at all, but your ex-girlfriend instead.

you hadn't wanted to use someone to get over daphne the way you were using ernie right now, but you were both tipsy, had bumped into each other and started talking, and the rest you couldn't . . . exactly remember. you knew he'd asked for permission to kiss you, which was really the only thing you needed to remember about this.

you just needed to kiss someone; it didn't matter who they were, and right now, ernie was who was available. unfortunately.

breaking away from your kiss with ernie and mumbling something about going to get another drink, you headed off towards the common room fire instead, where some of the less social people were sitting playing exploding snap or wizard chess. there were also people passed out over the long couches, and you hated to think about someone having to take them to their own common room once the party was over.

you sat yourself down in one of the arm chairs off to the side of the group of furniture, snuggling into its warmth. you didn't want another drink; what you wanted was some time with no one paying attention to you so you could be alone with your thoughts. and maybe some water.

ugh, i'm just putting myself into a worse mess, you thought. you didn't know how ernie was going to react to your making out in the morning. was he going to remember it and want to pursue something with you ? you hoped not, because you didn't like him like that in the slightest. was he going to remember and just not say anything ? better, but not the best. was he going to forget about tonight, or just forget that it was you he'd kissed ? that way the ideal.

you were a horrible person for kissing ernie when you didn't like him, even if he didn't like you either - which you still didn't know, you had to remind yourself. but you'd broken the one important promise you'd made since the day you'd first told daphne you loved her and she said 'promise ?' and you'd said 'yes'.

that water was sounding really good right about then because your throat felt as dry as it had the day daph had broken up with you.

don't cry don't cry don't cry.

you stood reluctantly, and somehow made it to the drink table without tripping over anyone. once there, you poured yourself a glass of water from the separate punch bowl, sniffed it to be sure it wasn't spiked, and then downed the whole thing in three gulps, going back for more immediately after.

it was as you were pouring a ladle-full of the stuff into your cup when you heard a giggle-laugh as melodic as a weeping willow was beautiful.

"damn," daphne said as she squeezed in at the table beside you, reaching to get a hold of what you guessed could only be another bottle of firewhisky. "you downed that stuff as fast as i down alcohol."

you shouldn't have been as surprised as you were to see her at this part; she loved getting drunk, and would go to any party that promised alcohol. she'd slowed it way down when you two started dating, but you guessed that it'd started back up again once you'd broken up. and yet, you were still surprised. maybe you were tipsier than you thought.

"oh, hey daph . . . ne." you cringed at the way you could hear how you'd paused to use her first name instead of her nickname.

she giggle-laughed again. it was then that you knew that she was totally drunk; daphne greengrass was not the type to giggle sober. "hey, y/n/n !" she took a big gulp from her bottle. "how've you been ?"

you looked away awkwardly. man, daphne, i've been like shit ! only because you broke up with me, though, but don't worry, i don't blame you !

instead, you said, "oh, i've been . . . i've been better, really. a . . . lot better." that last part was only to you, mumbled into your cup as you looked back up at your ex. your gorgeous, perfect ex.

daphne didn't seem to take notice of your implied anger with her over the break up ( you weren't angry, really, it was just how the sentence had come out ), and if she did, she didn't comment on it.

"that's good. was getting kinda worried about you, you know." she leaned forward, getting closer than was comfortable for you when you were still so hung up on her. "we're still supposed to be best friends, after all !"

you laughed. it was painfully forced, and even more painfully awkward. "yeah . . . best friends . . ."

you noticed that the crowd around you was getting more rowdy, cheering at something on the other side of the hufflepuff common room.

"y'know, we should really go into hogsmeade together on the next trip. we haven't . . . !" that was when you began to tune her out. since when was she this perky of a drunk ? you choose instead to take small sips from your cup, that contents of which were steadily waning. god, you were still so in love with her, but you couldn't tell her that. she'd always been soft on you, but now that you were broken up ? you weren't so sure if that was still the case, and daphne had some mean friends when it came down to it.

while lost in your thoughts, someone shoved you to get to one side of the drink table, and you crashed forward into daphne - who was still babbling on about whatever - sending her crashing backwards.

she fell to the ground with a large thump, and when she'd ceased to only be a blur of motion, you saw that over half the contents left of her firewhisky had spilled out onto the carpet, leaving only a fourth of it left.

you rushed to her side immediately, fussing over her, and making sure she wasn't hurt. you took the bottle from her and set it down on the drink table before going back to help her up off the ground. she winced as she stood up, making you concerned immediately. she was already drunk, and now this ?

"daphne, daph, are you alright ? why're you wincing, baby ?" the 'baby' was subconscious, something that you'd been so used to calling her before the break up but had been so careful not to use afterwards - until now, apparently. it felt so natural, calling her that.

instead of answering, she just stared at you, head slightly cocked in a very puppy-ish fashion.

"what ?" you asked, eyebrows furrowing.

"it's just . . ." daphne paused, chewing at her lip in thought. she looked remarkably sober now, but it was clear to you that she wasn't quite sure what she wanted to say.

"it's just that you're so sad all the time now, and i . . . and i can tell, with the way you look during dinner and classes, but here you are, so - so concerned about me, when i'm the one that hurt you."

you were a bit taken aback by her comment, not sure why she wanted to bring this up now, but you smiled nonetheless. it was a melancholy smile. "of course i'm concerned about you. i still love you, and i want you to be happy."

tears were welling up in your eyes, and instead of blinking them away like you had the afternoon she'd broken up with you, you let them roll down your cheeks. you watched daphne as her gaze shot to the tears and followed them until they dripped off your face. her eyes, wide with what looked like startled regret, met yours again, and she looked lost, like she couldn't remember what she was doing there at that party standing in front of you. you hesitated, not sure if you wanted to continue with what you had wanted to say. you decided you did.

"even . . ." your voice was trembling. "even if i'm not what makes you happy anymore."

#daphne greengrass #imagine #oneshot #fandom imagines #daphne greengrass x reader #hp #harry potter #harry potter x reader #angst #daphne #daphne x reader #daphne x reader angst #daphne greengrass imagine #writing #golden trio era #lightning era #slytherin #slytherin x reader #hogwarts

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mcwriting · 7 years ago

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Ready, Set, Go (Pt. 2 of AFTR)

Alright so here’s the requested (and promised) sequel/continuation of A Flight to Remember. I know my ship list mentions that I wouldn’t do multi-part stuff (mostly bc idk how to link them haha) but I’ll put this under the AFTR tag too so it shouldn’t be hard to find. There will be a part 3. Without further ado, here you are!

Fandom: Marvel-ish

Ship: Tom Holland x Reader (Tom is mentioned, but doesn’t appear in this part, but did in pt 1 and will in pt 3!)

Setting: Unnamed smallish U.S. city from the first part of this

Word Count: 1,302

Warnings: None?

Rating: K/K+

Background: Aight so y'all can probably already tell that you can get most of the bg to this in the first part so probably check that out before you read this one. Didn’t mention this in the first part, but reader is probably 19 or 20, so not at the legal drinking age in America sorry. Also referenced but not mentioned in the original, but this is set in a timeline starting on a Wednesday and the dinner is Thursday (idk why it’s just what I went with)

*y/f/n is your friend’s name

You got home no more than ten minutes after leaving what you were now calling the “Holland Crew.” You were also already planning what you would wear and do tomorrow night for dinner.

The first person you called was your friend to let her know why the text you sent her from the airport was incomplete. You explained how you met the boys but chose to leave out the whole “going to dinner at your favorite casual restaurant tomorrow night with your all time celebrity crush” thing. You knew that if you told her, she would tell others who lived in your town who would probably show up at the restaurant just for a photo op, and you knew that would be a bad experience for everyone.

“Omg!! Y/n! Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“Seriously? I left the airport ten minutes ago! What more do you want?”

You also felt the need to call your parents about it, since they too were out of town, leaving you home alone until Sunday. It was only right that they knew you would be hanging with technical strangers, and that these “strangers” were incredibly famous.

Just as you expected, your mother worried about you going out with 3 young British men while your dad congratulated you for making a Hollywood hottie swoon over you.

Once finishing your conversations, you hopped into the shower to get the grimy feeling of traveling off your body and to wash the hair that you could feel getting more oily by the minute under your hat.

After your long, much needed, shower, you slowly dressed and decided to let your hair air dry. You figured that being home alone had its perks, and this was one of them. Air drying your hair was a daunting task that often took at least an hour, but you knew you wanted to straighten your hair again tomorrow and blow drying it would put your hair under too much stress.

The hour it took for your hair to dry consisted of dancing around your house excitedly once the fact that you had met, and were going to dinner with, Tom Holland and his little crew had set in. Towards the end of that hour, you saw a notification from an unknown number show up on your phone.

“Hey, y/n! It’s Harrison (aka Haz, for future reference) and I just wanted to discuss tomorrow night with you some more. Tom can’t stop talking about you ;) P.S. I got your number from his phone, so don’t be weirded out by this when you see it.”

You smiled to yourself as you added Haz to your contacts list. It wasn’t every day you got to say you had the phone numbers of two well-known actors, not that you’d be sharing them anytime soon, though. You sat down on the couch to reply to Harrison, detailing the next night’s events and asking Harrison for his opinion on how you should dress.

“Come on man! It’s not every day you get the cute boy’s wingman/bff on your side!! You know his type!”

“Y/n, if he truly likes someone, he has absolutely no care whether she’s in old sweats or a cocktail dress. Though he does like a little bit of leg…”

With that, you decided on the navy floral halter dress you had been saving to wear for a date. It wasn’t anything skimpy, only hitting just above the knees, but it was sleeveless and flowed out a little at the bottom, which complimented your body well. You hung the dress up and set below it a pair of flat, white sandals that paired well with the look. You weren’t one for heels, mostly because you enjoyed the freedom of movement without them, but also because there was many a time where you had humiliated yourself in them.

You turned in early that night, hoping that a full night’s rest would leave you glowing the next day.

You awoke at 8:34 a.m. on Thursday and rolled out of bed, heading straight for the bathroom as always. Once out, you checked your phone for new messages. There were at least 20, all from only 3 friends. You rolled your eyes and shook your head, your friend you had called yesterday had obviously let these 3 girls know, and they couldn’t believe what they had heard.

“OMG!! Y/N! WHY DIDNT YOU CALL ME??? I THOUGHT I WAS YOUR BFF?”

“GIRL. You met TOM HOLLAND?? AND DIDNT TELL ME?!?”

“Omg y/f/n just told me you met Tom Holland and I swear to God if she was lyin…”

You rolled your eyes and replied to each about how yesterday was tiring and all you wanted to do was come home and sleep. They definitely couldn’t know about tonight. One invited you to dinner tonight to tell them all about yesterday, so you covered, saying how your parents were gone and wanted you to clean up the house while you were home alone, and you would need to catch up on work stuff before Monday rolled around. You hated lying to your friends, even if some of what you said was true. (Your parents had been serious about cleaning up the house)

You checked the clock, which read 8:58.

T minus 10 hours until you saw the boys again, so obviously you needed to start getting ready.

You started by doing your hair, a task that also took quite a bit of time. You turned on the TV for background noise as you began straightening your hair in layers. At the half-way point, you took a break to toast yourself a bagel and grab a sparkling water for breakfast. Once finishing on your hair, you went to work cleaning up the living room for your parents. By the time you were done, it was almost 11:00. Only 8 hours left to prepare for the night.

You spent those 8 hours overthinking everything, from what you would say to how early you would show up to the restaurant to the underwear you were planning on wearing beneath your dress.

At 4:00, you touched up your hair and swiped on some mascara and a little bit of foundation. You were never one to wear makeup, and most of the time you opted to just not wear it. Even though the boys had seen you 100% makeup-less yesterday, it still felt nice to do yourself up just a little bit to raise your spirits.

You dressed yourself at 5:45, finally deciding on that one strapless bra and those black underwear for a confidence boost. You waited until 6:30 to strap on your sandals, seeing as you wouldn’t need to leave the house until 6:40 and you honestly preferred being barefoot above anything else.

You gave yourself another once-over in the mirror before checking your little cross-body purse to make sure you had your wallet, phone, keys, and anything else you might need for an emergency. After that, you were off to the restaurant, your mind buzzing and left foot tapping against the floorboard as you tried to keep your right root from flooring the pedal out of anxiousness.

You sat in your car and gave one last deep breath once you had pulled into the parking lot, heart racing faster than you could ever remember before. It wasn’t just the fact that you were meeting your celebrity crush and his equally amazing pals for dinner tonight that got you; it was the fact that you hadn’t been on a date in quite a while and you knew you were probably just a little rusty.

With that thought, you pushed open the door, and headed off towards the front of the building, ready to dive into what would hopefully be the best night of your life.

A/N: Haha wow am I the worst or what? I know this totally didn’t even feature Tom but don’t worry, the next part will. I decided to make this more than a two-shot like I had planned because I just had too many ideas to cram it into two parts. I hope to get the next (and maybe final??) part out within the coming week, but we shall see. Tbh I’ll probably end up doing what I did with this one and write the first 3 words tonight after I post and then not finish until 9 pm next Sunday wHOoPs.

Love y'all thanks for reading xoxo

#Ready Set Go #Tom Holland #Tom Holland x Reader #Marvel #spider man: homecoming #Spider-man #harrison osterfield #a flight to remember #part 2 #Tom Holland x you #tom holland fanfiction #marvel fandom

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kidensdouble88 · 8 years ago

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Newfound chapter II

A/N: YAYYYY part two is up:) thanks for showing love to my first part, I really didn’t expect much bc I’m a small account! Nevertheless, thankssss!! Part three should be up eventually:)

P.S I realize this is kinda short, but hopefully you like it. This series is going to be super angsty and longish.

Pairing: Eventual Peter Pan x Reader

Warnings: none

Slight Summary of chap.2: Something big about Y/N and Pan’s plans for her have been revealed!

After your body had hit the sand, Peter smirked to himself. This was too easy. (Y/N) was just too weak when she wasn’t at her true potential. And with that at bay, Pan should be able to execute his plan flawlessly.

He picked you up from the sand bridal style, then teleported the two of you to camp within the blink of an eye. As Pan appeared in the middle of camp, he dropped your unconscious body to the ground without a second thought. Felix walked up to him, awaiting orders.

“Felix I want you to take her to the tent you prepa-”

The sound of a sweet, honey-like voice interrupted him. It wasn’t a song with lyrics, but a humming that was coming from another area of the island. Peter and Felix froze in their spots, leaving you on the ground for a tad bit longer.

“She’s acting up again.” Felix murmured.

“I’ll be back.” Pan said, curiosity and mischief shining in his eyes. “Take the girl to the tent.”

And with that, he disappeared to investigate the mysterious and uninvited humming. However, as smoke enveloped him, he was oblivious to the fact that his boot was just barely touching your body on the ground, but that was enough to allow the smoke to take you with him. As your body disappeared, Felix merely shrugged his shoulders. Pan would find out shortly that you were taken with him, but you were no longer Felix’s problem.

Pan, and unintentionally you too, arrived in a large clearing; a circle of no trees, with bushes and blooming flowers everywhere, a rare sight in Neverland. Once the smoke cleared completely, Pan could see that there was a... you standing in the middle of this clearing. Only it wasn’t you. It was a figure: gray, translucent, and made from smoke. But it was the spitting image of you. It strolled around the clearing, flowers appeared as its hand brushed along the tall grass. It was humming a tune that was unfamiliar to both you and Pan, even though you were still too deep in your sleep to hear it.

Pan’s brows furrowed in confusion as he looked at the ghostly figure. His attention was then diverted from the figure to you as you shifted and hummed in your sleep. The singing stopped as you did, and the figure turned to look at you as well.

“Shit...” Pan mumbled. He was sure that with you and this figure of you together, something was bound to happen. Something he didn’t want. He returned his attention to the copy of you, standing a good twenty feet from the real you, which was still sleeping soundly at his feet. The figure was staring at your body on the ground, mouth agape in surprise. The figure looked up to meet Peter’s eyes, smirking. This copy of you was smart. It knew it had Pan confused, and therefore he was nearly powerless to stop it from getting what it wanted, you. Almost 5 seconds after Pan and the figure locked eyes, it disappeared. Just poof. Gone. Peter still felt it’s presence, however, and noticed the wind shift toward you and him. The grass leaned toward you both, and the wind caressed his face, and played with your hair. Then all was still.

Peter turned to your body on the ground, utterly perplexed. He wasn’t sure what had just occurred between him and the figure, and he felt as if it was trying to tell him something with that smirk.

It wouldn’t just leave, (Y/N) was right there, open. He thought to himself, but his thoughts were cut short when you lurched from your position on the ground, taking in giant gulps of air at a time. As you did, your eyes were wide, and changing colors. Fast. The only ones Peter could catch were blue, green, neon yellow, orange, fuchsia, and then finally your eyes set on purple slightly longer than the others. The cycle of colors in your irises repeated for a mere five seconds as you pulled in a breath before returning to their original (Y/E/C). You were breathing hard, and Pan just stared at you, bewildered, but concealing it well. You couldn’t calm down, you were hyperventilating now. Your breath came in short pants as you looked at your hands. Pan knelt beside you, trying to calm you down, but you felt too off from your normal self to just brush this weird situation aside.

He grabbed your arm, but you were shaking too hard for him to be able to do anything useful. He moved his hands to your face, and breathed in and out slowly. You mimicked his breaths, trying to calm down like he was showing you. No words were exchanged between you two, but you knew he was trying to help. You felt warmer than you had before, with his hands on your face. Just then, as you were still trying to match his breaths, you realized how close his face was to yours, your noses only centimeters apart. His breath mixed with yours, and your cheeks reddened. He pulled away, oblivious to how you were blushing fiercely, and stood to his feet while offering you his hand. You grabbed it, and he pulled you up before teleporting the two of you back to camp with a frown etched onto his face at the events that transpired with the figure.

You reappeared in the middle of camp and Pan called a boy named Felix over, but not before dropping your hand, which you oddly felt disappointed at. After introducing the two of you, he left, claiming he had ‘business to attend to’. Felix turned to you, looked you up and down, and raised a brow.

“When did you wake up?” he asked, somewhat sounding as if he didn’t want an answer, so you decided it was best just not to give one. Instead, you fired back a question of your own.

“Where am I? Your leader forgot to tell me... well... anything.”

“Well,” Felix started, “Welcome to Neverland. Thats the name of this island. And you, my dear-” he paused to–rather harshly–poke you in the chest “-are stuck here."

Your eyes widened, and you became afraid all over again. “Don’t worry, it’s not all bad. Let me show you around.”

Felix explained much about life on Neverland. He introduced you to the lost boys, showed you your tent, gave you some clothes, a cloak, multiple daggers, and was overall very kind. Slightly mysterious and creepy, but kind nonetheless. He told you that training was tomorrow, and that he would wake you up. So without any more delay, you went to your tent. But you didn’t sleep. You couldn’t. How could you? You were torn from your family, knocked out by a cocky boy with weird magic, and woke up to him being somewhat nice to you. You are on an island with savage boys around your age and some younger, and given about 3 daggers to protect yourself with. What would you even have to protect yourself from? Wild bears? This was all so stupid. After many hours, with the hopes of eventual escape, you fell asleep only to have your eyes re-open. The only difference, was that they were purple.

You were you again. You were awake. You were back. You sat up in bed and recalled the past few years.

You were on a savage/thief in the Enchanted Forest. Many had asked for your expertise in killing, so you were technically a mercenary on the side. Just how lucky were you to end up under a curse? Wonderfully lucky. Just exceptionally lucky. You had stayed in Storybrooke for a while, orphaned, as you had no known family. Finally assigned to a pair of parents in a town far away, you were able to escape. Nobody knew how you were able to leave Storybrooke, but you could, and you did. Your new family was great. You loved them, but one day when you woke up something was missing. You felt empty, because unbeknownst to you, a part of you left. Your dormant powers were unused for so long due to the curse, that they decided to separate from you entirely, and resided in Neverland undetected for years, as it was a very magical place. That is until you came, because Pan had kidnapped you. You two weren’t the best of friends, enemies actually. You were the only person that he had ever encountered that could rival him and his powers, and therefore to him you were utterly annoying. Why had he kidnapped you? You didn’t know. Might as well ask the devil himself. So, off to his treehouse you went.

All you could do was wander the forest, as you ultimately had no idea where Pan’s treehouse was. your eyes were still strikingly purple as you cut through leaves and bushed with a tiny dagger. How convenient for Felix to be oblivious to your title, otherwise he would never have given you those daggers. You stopped as your ears perked up; you could hear whispering not far off. You slowed your steps and hid in the shadows of the night, as you followed the whispers that lead to Pan’s treehouse. Who was he talking with? you thought to yourself. The once faint whispers got louder as you arrived. Without making yourself known in any way, you listened as best you could to the conversation.

“You don’t understand, Felix! She’s dangerous!! I don’t care how much you think she’d fit in here. She’s the bloody Maiden!”

“...The what?”

“The Maiden of Many Forms. Otherwise known as just the Maiden. She is incredibly powerful. Her powers are the only ones I’ve ever seen that rival mine.”

‘Damn straight’ you thought, but you kept listening.

“Then what the hell were you thinking telling me to get her a tent? Why not send her to the cages?”

“She doesn’t remember who she is. If anything, she is the bloody opposite of who she was. We need her trust me, but I wasn’t planning on her merging with her powers. I only needed her so I could draw them out. It’s going to be loads harder to steal her magic if she’s remembered who she is.”

That Imp! What’s this about taking my magic? She was slightly outraged, but listened in as the two in treehouse spoke more:

“What’s the plan now?”

“We’d better hope she doesn’t awaken her magic and regain her memories. Matter of fact, you go make sure she’s still in bed, and I’ll get my contacts to check is the curse has been broken in Storybrooke.”

‘As stupid as ever, that one,’ you thought. ‘I only needed the magic of Neverland to regain my memories.’ And with that, you teleported yourself to your tent, hopped in the cot, and pretended to be innocently asleep. If Pan wanted to take her powers, he’d be playing a dangerous game. And what’s the fun of a game if you don’t have a second player? Pan was in for it now.

A/N” YAY finally another part! Sorry I took so long and it’s a little short, I had this unfinished in my drafts for so long, and my break is later than many of yours because I attend a private school. I have tons of projects due soon so I may not have time for another part, but I’ll be working hard (mostly during the night bc why not) to deliver one for you guys; I LOVE this series. I think It’s going to be a long angst-filled ride... buckle up ;)

P.P.S not the best editor, so I Apologize sincerely for any mistakes or typos. please ignore them, hopefully they didn’t ruin the story experience. And i’m praying this story makes sense because I literally had so many jumbled ideas in my head for this chapter/overall outcomes

love you guys<3

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bts-sky-blog · 8 years ago

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Seeing Stars

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader, appearances by the one and only kim yugeyom

Summary: For some reason, being around Jungkook seems to be a hazard to your health. In fact, it all starts with a concussion.

Word count: 4.8k

You can’t say you hate your job, but sometimes, it can be stressful. As the assistant for the head of JYP entertainment, it’s often your responsibility to retrieve a variety of odds and ends, ranging anywhere from clothing to drinks to various makeup products. Today, you’ve been given one of the longest lists of tasks you’ve ever received, and you’ve been rushing around Seoul all day to try and get everything done.

You park hastily in front of the boba shop, making sure to lock your car before rushing inside. You’re not sure why, but apparently this is GOT7′s current obsession: boba from the world renowned Gong Cha shop.

You read out your list of orders (it’s a long list because apparently Bambam wants to try every drink on the menu thanks a lot man), and sit down in the only empty seat you see, at the window bar. It’s not a big space, so you’re a pressed in between two people; on one side, a girl on her phone, and on the other, a pale man with mint green hair. Glancing around, you notice a familiar face. He’s talking to the man with green hair, and for some reason, you feel like you’ve seen him before. But no matter how hard you try, you can’t seem to figure out where.

Then it clicks. You remember seeing him walking out of the JYP building with Yugyeom a few times, wearing seemingly the same outfit every time you saw him: ripped jeans, a black face mask, and a large white tee shirt. You had assumed he was an idol of some sort, but you never thought to ask Yugyeom about his friends(it is not, in fact, your business).

The thought of him is brushed from your mind as you realize your order is ready. You stand in a hurry to go pick it up- a little too much of a hurry, actually. Your foot catches on the chair, and you’re sent flying, landing hard on your left arm. Your head hits the floor as you go down, and stars dance in your vision.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” You look up to see the same man with the large white shirt, crouching over you, afternoon sunlight spilling over the bridge of his nose and shining in his brown eyes.

“You’re friends with Yugyeom, aren’t you?” Your words are a little stilted, and you’re not entirely sure what you’re saying. “You have a nice voice…”

“She might have a concussion,” you hear another voice from further away.

“Can you get up?” He looks concerned, and you nod quickly. The movement sets your head spinning, and you close your eyes for a minute.

“Yeah, just-” you start to push yourself up, but pain shoots through your left arm before you can get far. Swearing, you drop back to the floor. “Sorry, my arm hurts.”

“What’s your name? Is there anyone I can call to come get you?”

“No, no, you don’t have to do that! I can make it, I’m fine. But I might need some help getting up.” You examine him closely. He looks a little flustered. “You’re kinda red, are you okay? You know, I’ve seen you before. With Yugyeom. Have I said that? Are you friends with him? How come you always wear the same outfit?” You tilt your head to the side at his expression. Mouth parted slightly, eyebrows creeping up. He looks a little funny, and you can’t help but giggle.

“Come on, I’ll help you get up. We should get you to the hospital.”

A little more than a week later, and you can’t believe yourself. “Jimin, what did I do? I totally embarrassed myself. I just wasn’t thinking, oh my god, I am ruined.”

He frowns, sitting down next to you. “Well, in all fairness, you did have a concussion.”

“That’s no excuse! I told him he had a nice voice and asked him- multiple times, even- if he was friends with Yugyeom. And I asked him why he always wore the same thing, which is insulting at best.” Jimin starts to respond, but you cut him off before he can get far. “And you should have seen him, Jimin! He’s so good looking... and with the sunlight shining off his hair...”

“I know the doctors said you’d be back to normal by now, but I’m not so sure you are. You never talk about guys like this, even though yours truly gives you loads of complimentable material. I mean have you seen me? And now you’re gushing over a mystery guy?” He laughs and leans back. “You’ll be fine. Even though your life is over, you’ll probably never see him again.”

“But if I do it’ll be so embarrassing! He’s friends with Yugyeom, who I work with, in case you’ve forgotten. And he was even nice enough to take me to the hospital and make sure I was alright, even after I lowkey insulted his outfit choices. I wish there were at least a way to compensate him for listening to my temporary break of insanity.”

“Well, you could always bring him cookies or something. We all love your cookies over at BigHit.”

You nod slowly, feeling sorry for yourself. “I guess, but isn’t a little weird? I mean, I barely even know him. What if he’s allergic to chocolate or gluten or something? And then I make him cookies and he eats them and has to ironically go to the hospital because of a fatal allergic reaction? What does he even like them? What if I get it wrong and it ends up doing more harm than good? I would end up being more embarrassed than before. Besides, how will I get them to him? It’s not like I see him on the daily. I’ve seen him maybe twice in passing.”

Jimin shrugs. “Ask Yugyeom. You’re close enough, right?”

“That’s a good idea, actually. One second, let me text him.” You pull out your phone, finding your most recent texts. It was a very sad list comprising of your mother, your sister, and the GOT7 group chat that was mostly just a meme distribution ring courtesy of the maknaes, Bambam and Yugyeom. For some reason, they spent all of their time during which they were supposed to practice finding new memes. While you found it funny, it was not so funny in important meetings when your phone buzzed every second with new images.

You send a quick text to Yugyeom.

you: hey yugyeom, weird question but who is your friend that only owns one outfit?

you: i think i met him a few days ago

yugyeom: oh jungkook? the ultimate meme machine? jeans and a white shirt with tims?

you: yeah?

you: he was the one who helped me when i got a concussion at that boba place

yugyeom: wow what a gentleman

yugyeom: remind me to hold that over his head. i’m not sure how it could be used as blackmail, as it was technically a good deed, but i will find a way.

you: no ok but i want to say thank you, for like, u know, saving my life and my job by calling the office off my phone so that i wouldn’t lose my job by disappearing and taking me to the hospital

you: does he like cookies?

yugyeom: yeah but not as much as i do

you: i’m not making cookies for you. that is not what this is about.

yugyeom: y nottttt

you: bc i have other, more important things to do other than cater to your cookie cravings, like you know, help u guys prepare for your world tour

yugyeom: pleaseeee i’ll let u in on the premium memes he sends me

you: i’ll think about it. you drive a hard bargain.

you: anyway

you: is he allergic to anything? and if i gave them to you could you pass them along?

yugyeom: well he’s not allergic to anything

yugyeom: about delivering them

yugeom: hmmmmm

yugyeom: maybe

yugyeom: only if u give me some cookies too xx

you: ughhh fineeeee

you: but you better not expect this again in the future

yugyeom: ~~~~ love u

yugyeom: just lemme know when u drop them off and i’ll get them to him when i can

you: thxx

Smiling to yourself, you slide your phone back into your pocket.

“So? Is he allergic to chocolate? Or gluten? Or your personality?” Jimin looks on curiously.

“Funny, Jimin, but no. I think I’ll make them tonight, if I get the chance,” you decide.

“Good idea. Let me know how this goes, okay? I must stay up to date on your embarrassing endeavors.”

“Will do, asshole.” You glance down at your watch, frowning when you realize how much time has passed. “Crap, my lunch break is just about over. Alright, I’ve got to get back to work, but I’ll be around. Let me know if you want to hang out. Or if you’re bored. I have few friends, Jimin, don’t leave me stranded.” He laughs and stands with you.

“Sure, sure. Good luck at work!” You smile and wave goodbye, heading back to work. You’re not really looking forward to facing this afternoon’s tasks, but someone has to do it... You just wish that someone wasn’t you sometimes.

The next morning, you knock on the door that leads to the bedroom Yugyeom and Bambam share before swinging it open, not bothering to wait for an answer. He’s sitting at the desk that’s crammed into the corner of the room, holding a bowl of cereal and looking half-asleep.

“Rise and shine, motherfucker! You’ve got some cookie delivering to do.” You drop the cookie tin in front of him, and he startles at the sound.

“Jeez, don’t do that... you scared me.” He yawns and rubs a hand over his face. “It’s too early for this.”

“It's one in the afternoon, my friend.”

“It's my day off! Give me a break. You know how hard I have to work for this job?”

“No, I don't, because every waking moment of every day you're sending memes in the group text. How is that classified as “hard work”?”

“That's what I'm working on. It's an endless search for memetic immortality. Your new best friend, that you are apparently stealing from me, is the meme master and shares the burden of this quest with me. I hope you put some pepes on the cookies in icing or some shit, because that would be hilarious.”

You roll your eyes, pushing the tin towards him. “Anyway. Will you get these delivered today?”

“Yeah, of course. The man himself is gonna be here later today.” You nod, hoping he doesn’t forget. “Hey. Where are the cookies you promised me?”

You reach into your bag, rummaging around until you find a smaller tin. “These are for you.”

“How come I don’t get as many as Jungkook?” He frowns, reaching for the tin and opening it, examining the contents critically.

“Because I ate some of yours.” He opens his mouth to complain, but you hush him before he can say anything. “But I’m making brownies next week for friend’s birthday. If you’re nice about this, I might bring you a few.” He perks up at that.

“Will there be any good kush in those brownies? Because you know that shit is the bomb.”

You smack him lightly. “Have you ever even seen a blunt?”

“Good point.” He grins at you unabashedly. “And you’ll bring me some brownies.”

You nod, sighing a little to yourself. “Fine, if you’re nice. And if you actually pay attention during practice and meetings this week.”

He nods, waving you off. “Of course I will be. You know me. I’m an angel, right?”

You roll your eyes and adjust your bag on your shoulder. “Sure, Yugie. I’ll see you later.” You make your way over to the door as he pulls his cookies towards him.

“Have fun at work!”

You shoot him a look before closing the door behind you.

A day later, you get a text.

unknown: hi, is this y/n?

you: yes? if this you mark i swear to god i don’t have your chips and if you ask me one more time...

unknown: this is jungkook

you: ok, wait

you: how did you get my number?

jungkook: i asked yugyeom for it

jungkook: i just wanted to say thx for the cookies

jungkook: they were really good! did you make them? i feel like i’ve had this recipe before, but in a good way u feel

you: oh, thanks ,,

you: i did make them

you: but they were supposed to be a thank you in the first place... you don’t have to say thank you for a thank you

jungkook: well, i also wanted to check in and see if you were doing ok

And just like that, you fell a little harder for him.

jungkook: you didn’t look great when i left you at the hospital :(

you: wow you you really know how to charm a woman

jungkook: oh wait that totally sounds like an insult now that i think about it

you: lol no it’s totally fine i was kidding

you: thanks for checking in, i’m doing much better now

you: and i actually wanted to say sorry bc i was really out of it at the time and i didn’t really act the way i normally do

jungkook: no no no you’re good

jungkook: lol it was actually pretty cute

Cute? You raise an eyebrow, a smile creeping onto your face, but before you can respond, you get another panicked text.

jungkook: oh wait no i’m sorryyy i don’t know how to do thisss

you: no you’re fine! seriously don’t worry

you: but

you: would it rly be a crime to call me cute tho

jungkook: oh no i mean you are really cute!

jungkook: i just thought it might make you uncomfortable or something

you: seriously it’s fine don’t worry about it

jungkook: ok but actually the reason i texted you was to see if there was any way i could thank you for the cookies?

you: they were a thank you! you totally don’t have to do anything

jungkook: but what if i want to?

That makes you pause, fingers hovering over the screen.

you: well, you could always buy me coffee?

You’re sitting at a table at the coffee shop, checking your phone repeatedly. You can’t help but be nervous. I mean, this is the first time you’re actually meeting him. In your right mind, anyway.

You glance up when the bell on the door chimes, and he appears in the doorway, wearing the same outfit as ever. He glances around before his eyes settle on you. A smile lights up his face immediately- like sunlight, you think- and he heads in your direction.

You stand to greet him, returning the smile. “Hi! It’s nice to actually meet you. You know, when I don’t have a concussion.” He laughs nervously and nods.

“Yeah, it’s nice to meet you too! I’m glad you’re feeling okay.” He smiles, looking a little unsure of himself.

“Well, would you like to get some coffee?”

“Oh, yeah, of course. I mean, that’s why we’re here, right?” You go over to the counter together, and when you order, of course he insists on paying. You knew that this was supposed to be a ‘thank you’ but you still halfway expected to be paying for your own.

You sit down together at a table in the corner once you have your drinks(and a muffin, in your case). “So, how do you know Yugyeom?”

“Oh, I work at JYP” you explain. “I’m Park Jinyoung’s assistant. JYP senior, though, as Junior doesn’t have his own personal assistant.”

“Oh, really?” He seems surprised. “I thought you might have been an idol in training. I mean, because you’re really prett-”he cuts off, a blush creeping across his cheeks.

You laugh, shaking your head. “I can neither sing nor dance outside of the shower, and it would be a travesty for a company to sign my nonexistent talent. But you flatter me. What do you do?”

“Oh, I’m with Big Hit.”

“So, you’re an idol?” He nods, looking a little embarrassed.

“You know, I have a friend who’s an idol there. Do you know Park Jimin?” His eyes light up, and he nods excitedly.

“Yeah! I love Jimin! I’m in the same group as he is, actually! He talks about you sometimes, I think!”

“Wait. You’re in BTS?” He nods, still smiling. “No way... Jimin hasn’t said anything about you that I remember...” Jungkook’s face falls a little at that, and you scour your memory to try and remember any mention of him. “Wait...” the realization dawns on you slowly. “You- does anyone ever call you Kookie?”

He lights up again. “Yes, that’s my nickname!”

“Oh my god, he talks about you all the time. I can’t believe I didn’t make the connection before this...” you laugh, a little embarrassed. “I can’t wait to tell him about this. He has no idea.”

Jungkook grins and nods again. “Yeah, he’s definitely mentioned you before.”

“All good things, I hope?”

“Yeah, of course. I mean, it’s Jimin. He’s a nice person. Mostly.”

“Well. That’s debatable. But yes, while he is usually the human personification of salt, he has his moments.”

The time flies, and before you know it, he’s dropping you off at your apartment. “You really didn’t have to walk me home,” you say. But you’re glad he did, anyway.

“Well, I wanted to. What if you’d gotten hurt or something? Of course, seeing you with a concussion again probably wouldn’t be the worst thing ever. That was actually really funny.”

“Hey,” you protest, but you’re smiling. “Be nice.” You fall into silence for a brief moment, facing each other in front of the door. The overhead light catches on his hair and shimmers there. “Well, thank you for the coffee! I’ll have to pay you back sometime.”

“Yeah! Yeah, I had a nice time,” he smiles, looking nervous again. For a brief moment, you think he might kiss you. “I’d like to see you again.” You nod, smiling, and he hesitates for an awkward moment. “Um, well, have a nice night!” He clears his throat, stepping away towards the stairs.

“You too! Tell Jimin I say hi!” He nods, smiling, before making his way down the stairs. You’re left standing in front of your door, and you sigh to yourself before reaching forward to unlock the door.

You make your way into your apartment, closing the door behind you and pausing there. You let your head fall forward to rest against the wood.

What have I gotten myself into?

You’re running your hands over the steering wheel anxiously, Jimin sitting in the passenger seat beside you. “Nervous?” He has an irritating smile on his face, and the traffic isn’t helping your mood.

“No, I’m just swell. Perfect. I feel great,” you snap a little bit, not taking your eyes off of the bumper of the car in front of you.

“Seriously, I had no idea your knight in shining armor would be Jungkookie, of all people. Are you sure he’s fit for the job?” he laughed.

“Well, I didn’t know him either. Now that I think about it, why haven’t you shown me pictures of your members to match your stories? All I’ve pictured when you’ve mentioned him was a pig with huge biceps. Anyway, I suppose I’ll meet all of the other members, and there won’t be any more weird surprises down the road?”

“Yes! I’m looking forward to it, actually, I’ve been wanting to introduce you to them for a while now!”

“Yeah, Jungkook said you’d mentioned me,” you shoot him a look out of the corner of your eye, which he pointedly ignores.

“Yup, but I promise, all good things.”

“It better be.”

You finally pull into the parking lot of the cafe, though finding a spot is a bit of a struggle. Eventually, you manage to park and make your way inside.

You spot them almost immediately, at one of the larger tables off to the side. There are six of them, plus Jimin. You notice that one of them, with mint green hair, is the same one you’d seen talking to Jungkook when you’d first met him at the boba shop.

They wave when they see you, grinning and laughing, and you find yourself a little more at ease. At the very least, they look friendly. (If not almost intimidatingly good-looking)

One of them, with pale pink hair(it reminds you of cotton candy) stands up as you approach, smiling and reaching over to shake your hand. He introduces himself as Kim Namjoon, quickly striking up a conversation. He’s clearly well-spoken and intelligent, and you find that you like talking to him. However, he can’t hold your attention for long. Soon, you’re being crowded by curious faces. The names fly by so fast you almost miss them, and even with the support of Jimin’s anecdotes, you’re sure you won’t remember them in an hour.

Even as introductions are being made, you keep glancing over at Jungkook, and more often than not, you make eye contact.

Once that’s finished, you’re led over to sit between Jimin and Jungkook. The chatter continues, and though you don’t join in that much, you still find yourself laughing along with the rest of them. Every now and then, you look over and exchange a glance with Jungkook. He really lights up when he’s with the rest of the members.

It seems like no time has passed when they say goodbye, heading off in their own separate directions. Jimin leaves last, winking conspiratorially and throwing a very obvious glance over your shoulder at Jungkook, who’s stayed behind.

Once he leaves, you turn back to Jungkook. “So,” he says, “what’d you think?” He seems both eager and a little anxious to hear your response.

“Yeah, they were great! Although, I have to say, I still like you and Jimin best.” He laughs and blushes a little at that.

“Ah, you shouldn’t say that.” You shrug and smile at him.

“Too late. So, are we going to go do something? Or would you rather stay here?” You’d originally planned to spend some time with him one-on-one, but he and Jimin had decided the wedge a meet and greet in there, too.

“Well, there’s a nice park around here, if you’d like to go there?”

“Sure! I’ll follow your lead. I don’t know this area very well, you know.” The park is, in fact, quite pleasant. Living in Seoul does have its downsides(read: So. Much. City.), so you’re happy to be around actual trees and nature for once. Besides, with Jungkook, you find yourself laughing more than you have all week.

Again, it seems like time flies before it’s getting dark and you have to leave. You have to get up early for work tomorrow, so you unfortunately have to head home. Since you have a car, you drop Jungkook off at the dorms before heading home yourself.

Your apartment seems empty and remarkably quiet when you get back, after the excitement of the day. It’s okay, though, because the warm feeling in your chest chases some of the loneliness away.

Your next ‘date’ with Jungkook (you’re still not really sure what relationship you have, actually) happens to be an ice skating date. You, physically uncoordinated as you are, manage to fall an uncountable number of times, clinging to his arm. It’s still fun, though, and you’re not complaining.

About 45 minutes in, you decide to take a break. You sit on the benches while he goes to get hot chocolate. When he returns, he’s smiling, eyes shining, and you think he looks like sunlight.

“Your nose is a little pink,” he points out, handing one of the cups to you. You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling.

“No, really? I wonder why.”

“Well, at least it’s cute,” he says, almost like it slipped out before he thought about it, and sits down beside you.

You glance over at him. “That’s the second time you’ve called me cute.” He turns bright red almost immediately, looking down at his hands.

“Well,” he’s muttering now. “I mean, you are.”

You smile, but don’t respond, leaning back to watch the ice skaters. Some of them have clearly been skating for years. Others, not so much.

It’s not long before Jungkook swings you back onto the ice, determined to at least get you a little more comfortable with it.

You’re starting to get the hang of it, you think (finally), when suddenly, your blade catches on the ice and sends you flying. You end up landing hard on your left arm again, air knocked out of your lungs, head spinning. You’ve fallen many times before, but this is the most painful one by far.

“Are you okay?” You see him appear over you, looking concerned. He kneels on the ice beside you as you blink to try and clear your vision a little bit.

“Oh, god, that hurts.” Your head is pounding, and you don’t even try to sit up. You look around, brow furrowing. “Sorry, what were we doing? I don’t- you’re- you’re Jungkook, right?” You nod slowly to yourself, “yes, that’s right. You’re friends with Yugyeom, aren’t you? Why do you always wear the same thing?”

Jungkook looks a little stunned, and you can’t help but laugh at his expression. “Sorry, I was just messing with you. But, in all seriousness, this does hurt. Not my head, but my arm.”

“You’re so mean to me,” he pouts, but he helps you up anyway.

He takes your left arm in gentle hands, running his fingers over it. You flinch when he touches it, and he immediately apologizes.

“I think it might be broken,” he says, frowning. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize ice skating would be this dangerous.”

You laugh, “I don’t think it is, for the most part. This is just an exception. I’m a clumsy person.”

“Well, I guess we should go to the hospital... again. It seems to be our special place.” You reach out(with your good arm) and squeeze his hand gently.

“Don’t worry about it, okay? I’ll be fine!” He nods, still looking remorseful, and leads the way out of the rink.

When all's said and done, you do end up with a cast. Jungkook still looks miserable, sitting in the corner of the room, alternating between staring at you and at the floor. In short, he looks pitiful. Once the doctor leaves, you wave him over to where you’re still sitting on the examination table.

He examines the cast critically, brow furrowed. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, Jungkook, I’m fine. I’ve said that a million times now- when are you going to believe me?”

He shakes his head slowly, “I just feel bad that you got hurt because of me. I feel like every time you get hurt, I’m with you.”

“You clearly don’t know me very well. I’m a very clumsy person, Jeon Jungkook, you don’t have much to do with it.” The frown softens, but still doesn’t disappear, so you take his hand in yours. “Hey. Jungkook.”

“Yes?” He’s close enough for you to hear his breath, soft and quiet, like morning air.

“Even if it were your fault, I’d still want to be with you.”

“Really?” He looks a little more hopeful at that. You nod, with more conviction this time.

And then(because, really, what else did he expect?) you lean forward and press a kiss to his lips, soft and just a little bit chapped. “Absolutely.”

#bts #jungkook #jeon jungkook #kookie #fanfic #writing #jungkook fanfic #bts fluff #jungkook fluff #bts fanfic #valerie #valerie's writing #claudia #claudia's writing #we work better together :)#got7 #yugyeom #he makes an appearance

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the100imagine · 8 years ago

Text

Imagine: A Shot In The Dark.

Requested by Anon and minidecalibre Includes: Jasper Jordan x Reader Requests: *a jasper x reader where jasper and the reader has been friends for a long time with jas and monty and monty knew abt the readers crush and vice versa but jas gets in a relationship and doesnt find out abt he reader until theyre almost dead? thank u! * Jasper jordan imagine you are kane his daughter and jasper bumbs into you when you are ln duty and kane sees that

Note: Okay so I decided to put these two together even tho they aren't even, like, similar. I just thought that bc the first one has been done similarly before—and I'm going to be honest there aren't many ways of changing it up—that I would put them together somehow.

I know I have a bunch of requests that my dumbass/lazy ass still hasn't gotten to yet, I just lost motivation in writing *cue the worlds smallest violin* and I'm hoping I have some now seeing as I'm (for some fucking reason) writing two new stories for my Wattpad like the idiot I am.

ANYWAY let's see how this goes.

Update at 12:35am after finishing; LONGER THAN EXPECTED.

Down on Earth, you were known as Kane and Kane alone. Nobody bothered to learn your first name considering you were related to Marcus Kane, and they just figured that you would be a clone of him. But as time went on—and they observed you—they learned that you were anything but like the man that locked them up. Although you never honestly cared that much about what they thought, it wasn't like you could pick your family or at least who your parents were.

Only two people were dumb enough to take you under their wing, and they were Monty Green and Jasper Jordan. Ever since you landed on Earth—and supposedly had been forgiven for all crimes committed on the Ark—you started a new life for yourself.

In a way, you tried to distance yourself from the man who referred to himself as your father, although, that was difficult when you shared the same name. Not only that but when the war against the Grounders had ended and the Mountain Men kidnapped the remaining delinquents, the slim chance of possibly seeing your father—if the Ark ever made its way down to Earth—had decreased even more.

The clothes that the Mountain Men had given everyone were nice, but they didn't feel right. They weren't yours, it was wrong. Dante had given the remaining delinquents access to some parts of the mountain, so it was very limited with the places in which you could go and relax by yourself to just think. But you found a corridor that appeared empty and quiet, so you slid down the wall and sat with your back pressed against it, your eyes trained on the bricked wall in front of you.

"There you are." Monty sat down beside you. You didn't even hear him approach you. Although considering the fact that you were close to a bomb when it went off, it would explain the slight hearing problems.

"Here I am." You shrugged.

"What are you doing out here by yourself?" He questioned, bringing his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around his legs.

"Thinking."

"What are you thinking about?"

"My dad and myself."

"Miss him?"

"I don't know. I just didn't think that..." You paused, trying to think of a better way to phrase how you were feeling. "I knew, in the back of my mind, that the chance of seeing him again was next to none, you know?" He nodded. "But some small part of me, the part that will always and forever be the little kid who looked by up him, hoped that I would see him again."

"I get it, it's like me and my mum. I miss her, but I knew I might not see her again when I was put in the Sky Box."

"It just sucks that they won't find us."

"Why'd you say that?"

"Well, I doubt that Dante, and his men, would keep us alive long enough for our parents get to Earth. Or if they're already on Earth, long enough that they get here to the mountain."

"Keep us alive?"

"Haven't you noticed we're going missing one-by-one?"

"That's not true." He shook his head slightly.

"Where's Harper? Because the last time I saw her was when we went to Dante's office."

Monty stayed quiet for a minute. "You're right, I just thought I wasn't in the same room at the same time as her."

"No, Monty, she's been taken. For what? I'm not sure. But I don't doubt that it will be long before we find out ourselves."

"You're kinda for freaking me out right now."

You let out a small chuckle at the irony just before a frown made its way to your face. "Why aren't you with Jasp?"

"He's with Maya..." The expression he held on his face was pity and sadness.

Of course, Jasper was with Maya. He was almost stuck to her hip as of late, and it was beginning to become annoying. You couldn't really be angry at him though, it wasn't like he knew you were harbouring feelings for him. But it still stung that he chose her, a girl he's just met and barely knows, over someone who was there for him through thick and thin. A sigh left your lips as you rested your head back against the wall, staring at the bright hanging light on the ceiling.

"Sorry...I know how much you like him." He winced slightly, almost forgetting that you liked Jasper and that would have been a sensitive subject for you.

"Yeah, and I know how much he likes her."

Suddenly the phrase 'speak of the devil and he shall appear' happened to be quite literal when both you and Monty turned your heads to the side when you heard Maya and Jasper laugh loudly, holding hands together as they walked down the corridor. You looked down to your hands, picking at the broken skin of your sore knuckles, a soft sigh leaving your lips. Monty turned his head to look at you, once more his expression was pitiful and sad.

"Sorry." He mouthed as the two 'love birds' approached.

"Hey, guys," Maya's happy and cheery voice had you suppressing an eye roll.

"Hey Maya," Monty greeted.

"Vie." You nodded at her, only using her last name before looking at Jasper. "Jordan." You gave him the same treatment, hoping that the feeling for him would go away if you stopped acting like you cared.

"Kane," he replied with a confused smile, a small chuckle escaping his mouth—obviously confused at the surname passing your lips instead of the usual 'Jasp' or 'J'.

"What are you guys doing out here?" Maya questioned, leaning her body against Jasper, her left hand holding onto his upper arm and her right was entangled with his left. "You know, they're serving chocolate cake in the mess hall, right?" It was so hard to hate her when she was so kind.

"Oh, really?" Monty stuttered out, not liking the thick tension around your body aimed at Maya. "Well, maybe we should go get some, right Kane?" He stood up, holding the wall behind him. Jasper obviously noting something was off.

"Well, I'm lactose intolerant so..." You started in a quiet tone before Monty yanked you up off the floor, waving goodbye to Jasper and Maya, pulling you away from them.

Before you both left the corridor, you heard Maya, "I hope she's feeling okay, she seems a little down."

Then Jasper. "Yeah, maybe." Although he voice was uncertain.

"Monty!" You whisper-yelled at him as he continued to pull you through the corridors. "What the hell was that?"

"I thought you were going to smash her head into the wall if she said another word, so I thought for best measure—hoping Jasper wouldn't see you murder someone—that I dragged you away."

You weren't expecting that. "Smart thinking."

Monty had been sitting on your bed, at the opposite end, chatting with you while Jasper was MIA with Maya. Everyone else was in the mess hall doing something, but you just couldn't be in a room with Maya and Jasper any longer. You swore that if you had to hear the giggles that Maya let out every time Jasper nuzzled his head into her neck or said something before poking her sides you would have set the whole place on fire.

"Did you see that they were serving fried chicken in this place?"

"What?" You laughed at his obsession with the food.

"I've never had it, I mean that's a given, but, it's just so good. I would honestly live off of it."

"Have fun eating grease."

"Oh, I will." He laughed before he leaned over, glancing around before raising the level of the music.

"What's up?" You asked, knowing that he was going to tell you something he shouldn't know about.

"They've taken someone else. I don't know who. But yesterday, when you said about Harper being gone, I stayed up later than everyone else and I saw that there was another empty bed."

"They're getting sloppy." Somehow you doubted that they cared if they were found out.

"They're getting dangerously close to taking one of us next. It could be me or you. Even Jasper. Aren't you going to have more of a reaction?"

"Monty...We were sent down here to die. I was almost murdered eight times back at camp by the other delinquents just because I was the kid of Marcus Kane. He's all I have in this world...Well, technically outside of this world. I'm losing hope of survival every time I wake up in this place."

"So, you don't care? If you're taken, I mean."

"In all honesty?" He nodded his head at you. "I'd be glad."

"What? Why would you be glad?"

"I won't be getting murdered by my friends, or murdered by my own father out in space," you started. "I'll be murdered by people who wouldn't have ever cared about me in the first place. I find peace in that."

"You're just weird."

"If I'm next, at least now you know that I'll be okay with it, you won't have to worry about me."

"But I will worry about you." Monty stared at you. "I'm pretty sure Jasper will freak out."

"Please." You scoffed. "I doubt he even remembers that I exist." You shook your head, picking at the frayed ends of the shirt you were wearing. "He probably wouldn't even notice."

Monty frowned at you. He wasn't sure what these people were feeding you, but it wasn't the same as what he was having. You seemed different, even more so than usual. Maybe you knew something he didn't, but he doubted that because you tell him everything. You even told him how you thought you were in love with Jasper, which was a big secret between the two of you. You turned the music down a bit just as the others began to enter the dorm room.

When you woke up the room was dark, it smelt different to the usual dorm room. For some reason, you weren't able to move your body. You struggled against whatever it was that was keeping you from moving, only to hear the sound of metal clinking together and the sound of leather stretching. Your eyes struggled to adapt to the darkness, but you tried glancing down to your arms, only to see legs of a table.

You soon realised that you were face down on a medical table, strapped down in harnesses keeping you from escaping. A groan left your lips as your forehead stung. You weren't sure how long you had been out for, but your neck felt sore, almost like you had needles pressed against your skin. The searing pain began to get worse and worse as you came more around and aware of your surroundings.

A scream left your lips as a face came to view. It was Cage Wallace, Dante's son. "Well rise and shine, it's only been a couple of days, but at last we're finally ready for your bone marrow."

"What?" Your voice was panicked.

"Oh, don't worry." He shook his head, shuffling his feet as he continued to crouch down to see you. "You probably won't live for much longer, so the pain won't last for long," he spoke as if it were no big deal.

"Why are you doing this?" Tears built up in your eyes.

"We deserve to live on the surface, it's where we belong."

"Well find another way!" You yelled, struggling against the holds.

"Oh, no, no. We've found that the delinquents bone marrow is a far better treatment for us. You see while you were in space, your bodies adapted to filter out solar radiation from the sun, therefore the radiation down on Earth means nothing to your mutated cells. While the Grounders—you remember them, don't you? Well, the Grounders, they just didn't do an as good of a job as you kids." He poked your nose with a smile. Clearly deranged.

"Please..."

"Please? You want me to get started?" He assumed. "Of course!" He stood up. The sound of a drill started up.

"No!" You screamed. "No, get me out of here! Monty! Monty help me!"

"No one's going to help you, they're all tied up. Well, Monty isn't. He's not here." You weren't sure what he meant, but that made the tears fall down your cheeks faster, your screams turned to pained sobs as the drill pierced the skin of your hip bone. A loud deafening scream erupted from your lips as the drill continued to the bone, extracting your bone marrow, painfully.

When you woke up, your body was on a different medical bed. This time you were able to see everything around you, even though it was through blurred vision. The cave walls were surrounded by the remaining delinquents, including Abby and your dad. You were pretty sure you were hallucinating as a pained laugh fell from your bloodied lips. Of course, he'd be the last thing you'd see before you died.

"Ready for another go?" Cage placed his hand on your forehead, his other on your thigh as you saw the Mountain Men with drills crowd around you.

"I'm already dead." You grinned weakly at him. "I can see my dad, I'm already dead so you can go ahead. I'd rather be dead than have my dad actually watch me die."

"Oh, but he really is here!" Cage grinned back, brushing the sweaty strands of hair from your forehead. "So, really, he is watching you die. How's this for a family reunion?" He laughed before he stared at you, a menacing smile on his face as your eyes widened. He clicked his fingers at the men before he stepped away, his hand leaving your forehead, letting the men begin the extraction once more.

"Dad?"

"I'm here, we're going to get you out of here."

"How?" You asked over the sound of the drill.

"We have a plan."

You laughed weakly once more. "Some plan this is." Another scream burned your throat as the drill went into your thigh, your body tensing and struggling against the restraints. The pain began to increase, becoming too much as your vision darkened until there was nothing there, and the feeling soon faded into nothing.

You weren't sure if you were dead. You wouldn't be upset if you were. But a tent ceiling was above you when you woke up once more. You tried to sit up, but hands pushed you back down gently. You looked over and saw Abby smiling a teary-eyed smile at you, stroking your hair back from your face. You furrowed your eyebrows. Were you back on the Ark? But she wasn't on Earth, she was on the Ark still. Was all of that just a dream?

"Welcome back," she spoke soothingly as she sniffed. "You scared all of us, you wouldn't wake up for days. Then those days turned into weeks. Those weeks turned into a few months." She picked up a damp cloth, dabbing your face. "I sent your father away so he could shower and eat something, he'll be back soon."

"What happened?"

"The Mountain Men tried to take your bone marrow. But Clarke had a plan." She nodded, trying to hold back her tears.

"C-Clarke's alive?" Your voice cracked, your eyes threatened to spill with tears as you tried to sit up, looking for her, a tiny smile almost touching the corners of your mouth.

Abby looked shocked at your words, Clarke never mentioned that you had been friends, so your reaction wasn't what she was expecting. "Yeah, yeah she is. Along with Bellamy, Raven, Octavia, Monroe, Murphy."

"Finn?" You raised an eyebrow.

"He didn't make it."

"He's safer now." You nodded. "Just like Wells."

"So are you." She told you, a single tear rolling down her face. "You're awake, you're alive. You might be weak but you're alive!" She whispered at the end, a proud look on her face.

"Is Jaha here?"

"Yeah, he's here. He stayed on the Ark for his people to live, but he came down so his people could survive."

"Touching," you spoke quickly, almost without emotion. "Does he know? About Wells?"

"Yeah, Murphy took him to his grave. He also went to somewhere called the City of Light."

"So, who's the Chancellor?"

"I am."

"Okay. Am I allowed to sit up, Chancellor?" You smirked.

"But right now, I'm your doctor." She chuckled a bit. "And of course, you can, just carefully."

When she helped you up, you saw Monty rush in. "I eavesdropped," he admitted when Abby was about to talk. "I couldn't wait. I know your dad was probably the second person who was meant to see you, but I got excited."

A small smile reached your lips as you nodded to him, Abby stepped back for you two to talk, saying she was going to go see Raven, while Monty stepped closer. "Hey," you spoke softly.

"You're alive."

"So, I've been told. How are you?"

"Tired. I couldn't sleep, the thought of you never waking up again put me off the idea."

"Sorry about that."

"We're safe now, though."

You nodded. "Is everyone else—?"

"Yeah. We're okay. Fox..."

"We'll meet her again, someday. Somewhere better than this place." He nodded in response. "And Jasper?"

"Heartbroken." You raised an eyebrow. "In order to save our people, I had to switch the fans letting radiation into the mountain. Clarke and Bellamy pulled the lever. The Mountain Men didn't make it," he told you, but you said nothing. "Maya died."

You gulped, looking down at your bandaged legs. "She didn't deserve that." You shook your head. "If they had used my marrow on her, maybe—"

"You'd be dead."

"Maya wouldn't be, and then Jasper would be happy. She shouldn't have died, Monty."

"I know, but it was the price we had to take, we couldn't just let all of our people die for Maya to maybe live. Besides, they would have taken Jasper at some point."

"This isn't fair," you mumbled, shaking your head.

Almost a month later, Abby convinced your dad to let you work as one of the guards. That way then he would be able to go outside the wall with you, keep an eye on you, and just all-in-all be close to you. Like he had always wanted. At first, he was reluctant, but with a few words from the remaining delinquents with Bellamy and Lincoln, he was persuaded. You had your own gun and uniform—although it was a little big on you. Even though it wasn't in space, the Ark was still home.

You were on wall duty, keeping the perimeter checked while some of the guards and Grounders went out to hunt for food. Your dad stayed behind, still worried about your health, which was completely acceptable given that your bone marrow was taken from your body only a couple of months prior. A guard came over to take over your shift, allowing you to stretch your legs and walk around.

You hadn't spoken to Jasper, not wanting to bring back memories of the mountain for him, along with ones of Maya. It was safer that way. You still hadn't seen Clarke, although Bellamy said she did leave, not wanting to carry the weight of guilt around with her. You would miss her, but she would be back. One day.

"Oh!" You let out when you bumped into someone. "I'm so sorry, I wasn't paying attention—" You stopped talking when you saw Jasper. "Hey."

"Hey, Kane."

"Sorry, about bumping into you," you mumbled, trying to get around him.

"Wait!" He called out, making you stop. "I haven't seen you in a few months. I miss you," he admitted.

"Really?" He nodded his head. "I thought that you wouldn't want to see me, I wasn't that great of a friend back at—"

"That's not true. I was the one who left you."

"You don't have to talk about it."

"No. I do." His eyes darted across your face, taking every inch of you in. "I was being selfish. It wasn't until I saw all that blood, the tears, or when I heard your screams die down that I realised just how crappy of a friend I had been. I left you for someone I barely knew, someone who I should have known it wasn't going to last with..."

"Jasper—" You started softly.

"I'm not done apologising," he interrupted. "I need to let this all out." You nodded your head for him to continue. "Monty told me what you said. The night before you were taken. All of it. He also told me to get my head out of my ass and to realise that the person I've actually liked all along, liked me back, but was one step away from death. I didn't believe him at first, I was upset and angry. So, I let him sit outside the medical tent for weeks, all by himself, when it should have been both of us. Hell, I should have been in there with you holding your goddamn hand!"

"You don't have to do this to yourself." You shook your head.

"I need you to know that I like you. Hell, I'm probably even in love with you. But that doesn't make up for the fact that I basically left you for dead for someone who already was dead. The last couple of days, before you woke up, hit me the hardest, because I knew that if you weren't going to wake up anytime soon you wouldn't have woken up at all. That terrified me. More than the thought of Maya dying." He gulped. "I'm just so sorry for everything, I have way more to apologise for, but I feel like this is a good place to start."

"You don't have to apologise, Jasp, I'm not angry with you." His eyes snapped to yours. "What?"

"You called me Jasp."

"Yeah? It's your nickname."

"All that time in Mount Weather it was Jordan, I haven't heard it in months."

"Well, you'll be hearing it from now on." You smiled lightly.

"Can I hug you?"

"That's a stupid question." He frowned slightly. "You don't have to ask to hug me, Jasp, just hug me." You laughed out before his arms immediately went to wrap around your body. You could tell he wanted to hug you tightly but he didn't want to hurt you, so, he settled for a gentle hug. You wrapped your arms around him, rubbing his back before he pulled away.

"I'm going to see Monty, but I'll see you later?"

"Of course." You nodded before you both parted ways.

"Who was that?" Your dad asked as you made your way over to his table.

"Just my friend." You shrugged.

"Just a friend?"

"Yeah..."

"Sure. If that's what you want to call it."

#jasper jordan #the 100 #jasper jordan imagine #the 100 imagine #imagine

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