#sorry for any mistakes I'm dead tired | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

worldofkuro · 9 months ago

Text

Painted Smile

Painted Smile VII

<- Previous Chapter | Next Chapter ->

Pairing: Alastor x Female! Reader

Summary: You couldn't wait to meet new friends. What you didn't expect was this smiling little boy, only one year older than you, that would take such a big place in your life.

Notes: 4913 words... I don't know what happened. I'm so tired, it's 1 am but who cares, I needed to drop the new chapters. I really hope you'll enjoy it dears ! Tell me what you think of it! Because I'm dead tired there might have more mistake than usual, I'll check it out tomorrow.

“ And then I kind of kissed him through the blanket.”

You stared as Alice squealed with delight, bouncing on her seat in front of you. You were in your living room,sitting on your sofa, your Mother was out which made you alone with your friend. You just finished telling her what happened two days ago and she seemed delighted while you were… confused. At that moment you didn’t even think, you just… went for the kiss. It wasn’t even a kiss, your lips didn’t touch! You just felt the blanket!

“ And then ? And then ? Don’t leave me hanging, tell me what happened next!” begged Alice while she was squeezing a cushion against her chest. You turned your head toward the chimney’s fire. You were the 20th of December. Christmas was around the corner and then Alastor’s birthday…And you still didn’t have any ideas for a present ! You sighed, you were losing against the clock… “ Hey, are you doing alright ?”

“ Oh, sorry Alice, nothing happened after. He… reassured me and then he went home. But the problem right now is that I don’t have his Chrismas’s present… I don’t even have his birthday’s present!”

“ He was born on the first of January, right ?” You nodded and she tilted her head backward, thinking about a present for your friend. You almost scoffed, you trusted her but if YOU couldn’t find a present for Alastor, how could she do it? “ Hey, before I forget, I asked my parents if I could celebrate Chrismas’s Eve with friends and they said yes!” she clapped her hands together. “ You should come, and bring Alastor with you !”

Going to a soirée with Alastor..? You looked at Alice. She was indeed the daughter of a rich family but she wasn’t like those pompous people who thought they were better than anyone. She was open minded. She made friends with everyone, white people, coloured people, everyone.. And you were surprised her parents were okay with it. Maybe they weren’t closed minded people?

You kind of wanted to see Alastor in this kind of environment, you have never seen him all dressed up since you were kids. It could be fun ! But would he agree ? You could almost hear his voice saying he didn’t want to leave his Mother alone for Chrismas’s Eve.. You didn’t want to leave your mother alone either– Wait, that was it! You would invite Marie to pass Chrismas’s Eve with your Mother and you and Alastor would go to Alice’s soirée and then celebrated Christmas in your own house with Alastor and her mother!

“ From your smile, I guess it is a yes?” asked Alice with a grin. You winked at her before standing up.

“ It’s a maybe… I don’t know if Alastor would want to come.”

“Mhn.. If he doesn’t want to come, tell him that John will be there.” she said with a teasing expression, like she knew something you didn’t. You raised an eyebrow at her, suspicious.

“ Alice… Did you talk with Alastor when he walked you home?”

“ Oh! Actually yes, he is the one who began to talk. He asked about our relationship, he seemed very protective of you, it was cute!” she beamed as she giggled. You blushed, looking away. “ But you think he would not like a party? He seemed like he would be the star of the soirée!”

You did know that. Alastor has something that made people want to approach him. He was almost seventeen but he already had so much charisma, he was a proper gentleman. You weren’t blind, you could see more and more young ladies turn their eyes on him when you were walking outside. You wondered if he was aware of it? If he was, he never made a deal of it, he would just smile back at them if they happened to catch his eyes.

You wondered how ladies would try to approach Alastor. You’ve known him for eight years, so you weren’t impressed by him anymore, if you wanted you would just jump on his back because you were tired and he would carry you home just like. No questions asked. You smiled without noticing, people might have found Alastor difficult to approached but for you, it was as easy as breathing.

You kind of wanted to see people trying to approach Alastor now…

“ Well, I just have to convince Alastor.”

“ I’ll be delighted!”

You blinked, turning your head toward him. He was laying on the tree’s foot, seeming to be reading a book as you were sitting on the swing. It was snowing today, but you both decided to stay outside for a change. The forest was pretty hidden under a white blanket.

You went to Alastor’s house after parting ways with Alice. You did pay attention to the people around, but you didn’t see any man that would be stalking you. You were sure, if there was a stalker, that he would stalk Alice, not you. But Alastor has made you promise that you would pay attention so…

“ Really? You would like to come?” you smiled as you let the swing go, walking toward him. He put his book down and looked up at you with his usual grin, he really seemed excited about it!

“ Of course dear, going to a soirée with you holding on to my arm? How could I refuse? And I’m sure my Mother would be delighted to celebrate Christmas’s Eve with your mother, as long as we celebrate Christmas with them.” he sketched before sitting up. He tilted his head and you couldn’t help but laugh as you saw a few leaves and snow on his hair. You sat next to him and began to take the leaves out of his hair. In two seconds, Alastor was laying back down on the grass but this time his head was on your thighs. He took his book back and continued his reading as you stroked his hair, looking at the sky.

What kind of dress would you wear? You never went to a soirée before, you needed to look your best, you wanted to impress Alastor. You’ve never really put too much thought into what you wore, you’ll have to ask Alice for advice… You wondered how Alastor was going to show up..

“ Alastor, what are you going to wear?” you looked at him, still playing with his hair, how could his hair be so soft to the touch? He didn’t move his gaze from the book, answering you with a teasing smile.

“ Why? ”

“ Come on, I was just wondering… I don’t know what kind of dress would suit me, I have never been to a fancy soirée. I’m scared of being… underdressed. “ and you didn’t want Alastor to be ashamed of you because of your poor choice of outfit. He stayed silent for a minute and then tilted his head backward on your laps so he could stare into your gaze.

“ Red suits you.”

You stared in his eyes, the sun made them look almost caramel like. He was so lucky to be this handsome, really ,and he wasn’t even a full grown man yet. You pouted, looking away. How unfair.

“ Well, thank you, does that mean that the only color that suits me is red and I look awful with any other color?”

“ Oh I didn’t say that. I just want to see you in red.”

You looked at him and couldn’t help the smile sketching your lips. Well, if that’s what he wanted. You took his book off his hands, which he let you do, still looking at you. You put the book next to you, on the grass.

“ Do you think you'll be able to keep up with me if we have to dance ?” you teased him, raising an eyebrow. His eyes widened before he roared with laughter, holding his belly. You chuckled at his reaction, you knew that Alastor was an amazing dancer, you just wanted to hear him laugh…

“ Oh my dearest friend, if we happen to dance, trust me, I’ll make it so you wouldn’t be able to walk for some days.” he winked at you with a confident smile. You laughed out loud, throwing your head back.

“ And I’ll make it so you wouldn’t ever consider another partner!” he took your hand in his with a soft smile, caressing your skin. You looked up as you heard someone coming and your eyes met Marie’s. She smiled softly at you, saying it was time for you to go home, she didn’t like you going home at night and didn't want you to catch a cold.

Alastor stood up, before taking his book. You stood up with his help, said goodbye to Marie’s and went back home with Alastor. Since the “stalker” evenement, he didn’t want you to walk home alone. You rolled your eyes at him but at least you could stay with Alastor a little while longer, so it was worth it. You walked together on the road of New Orleans, watching at the shop vitrines if it could give you some ideas for Alastor’s gift.

“ Hey, Alasto-”

You screamed as your foot slid on ice. You felt yourself falling before Alastor wrapped his arms around you and tugged your body against him before gracefully dancing around the freezed road. You stared at him, your eyes wide opened as he made you spin on the freezing floor, but you never fell, he was moving your body, like it was another part of him. You began to laugh happily. You let him take control of your body, letting him make you dance as he wished. Not too long after he made you drop, your head almost touching the ground. You stared at him as he held you firmly, your breath coming in short puff. He was staring intensely at you with a satisfied smile.

“ No matter what, I’ll always catch you if you fall.”

You smiled at him as he straightened you before offering his arm to you. You took it, as you kept walking toward your home and of course, as always, he leaned in to give you a kiss on your forehead before leaving. You stared at him until you couldn’t see him anymore and then you decided to enter your home.

“ Mom~ What would you think about celebrating Christmas’ Eve with Marie~?”

~~~

“ This is a disaster Alice !”

You fell on your bed,head in your pillow ready to scream bloody murder. You haven’t found a single red dress that suited you. You hated every single dress you had tried ! And Alice’s soirée was tomorrow night ! You didn’t know what to do with your hair, with your makeup and you still didn’t have anything to wear !

“ I see… Well, it seems like it’s my time to shine ! Look what I’ve got you !” She took a bag from behind her and put it in front of your bed. You lifted your head from your pillow and opened the bag. Your eyes opened as you saw a beautiful black and red flapper dress. Your eyes were wide open, you’ve only seen this kind of dress with the riches folks. You stared at Alice, your mouth wide open without being able to put words together. “ I know you will look delicious like this, come on, try it on so we can find makeup and hairstyle to go with it!”

“ We can see my legs !”

“ We’ll wear stockings, don’t worry ! It’s almost 1920’s, come on!”

“ We’ll be in 1917 next month!”

“ That’s what I said, come on now!”

You undressed yourself before looking at the dress. It was very pretty and it was shining with so many sparkles… You dressed up and put on some heels and then you looked at yourself in the mirror. You looked… like a woman. You really liked the dress… you moved around a bit, it was comfortable, you feel like you could dance with it! You could feel the flapper moving against your thighs with each movement. You blushed a little and looked at Alice who was staring at you with stars in her eyes.

“ Ooh, yes! You’ll look perfect ! Don’t worry, I’ll have some similar dress, you’ll not feel left out! Now, the makeup and the hairstyle my friend~.”

Oh dear.

~~~

It was the day. You were in front of your mirror. You were wearing your dress, your black heels, you had put a red lipstick on your lips and a bit of mascara. You were so nervous. What if Alastor found you absolutely ridiculous ? Oh you couldn’t live with the humiliation. You heard your door open and turned around to see your mother, staring at you with teary eyes.

“ Oh sweetheart, you look… Breathtaking, your father would be crying…” She went into your bedroom and hugged you which you immediately reciprocated.

“ I don’t look stupid ?”

“ Baby, no. You look like a grown woman! Oh, how time flies…you're already sixteen...” she smiled before you heard someone ringing at your door making you tense. It was Alastor, you were sure of it. Your Mother smiled at you before winking and then she left you bedroom, going downstairs so she could open the door. You tried to hear what they were saying but you couldn’t hear anything…

You looked at yourself one last time in the mirror.

“ Come on girl. You’re going to an amazing soirée and you’ll enjoy every single second of it, okay?” you nodded at your reflection. Great.

You sighed and then left your bedroom. You took a deep breath and then began to walk down the stairs, your heels making noises against the wooden stairs. You heard Alastor and Marie’s voice getting closer. You saw your mother at the bottom of the stairs with an encouraging smile.

“ Alastor, come closer, there she is !”

You heard his shoes before finally seeing him.

Oh.

He was beautiful.

His dark hair was slicked back, he didn’t have his glasses on, he was wearing a dark redded suit and he was holding a bouquet of flowers in his right hand. He was staring at you, his eyes wide open. You both stood there, without talking or doing anything else. You took a shaky breath before walking down the stairs until you were in front of him, thanks to your heels you were face to face with him. He was still staring at you with a straining smile. Did he find you ridiculous, did you try too hard? You kissed him softly on both cheeks and you heard him gulp. What was happening to him?

“ Alastor, please say something…” you begged, looking down.

You felt his hand on your face, raising your chin up so he could meet your gaze. His smile was softer and his eyes still had this intense glint that made you relax.

“ I told you, red is our color.” he smirked before giving you the bouquet. You grinned as you stared at the beautiful flowers in front of you and then you looked at Alastor’s eyes. He didn’t even once let his gaze move away from you, it made you feel warm. You smiled brightly as your mother took the flowers from you, putting it in a vase.

“ You both are so beautiful, but leaving before being late !” Marie said just after taking a picture of you. You took a long coat that hid your figure before leaving with your arm around Alastor’s one.

“ I can’t wait to be there ! “ you said excitedly. You were still feeling nervous but Alastor by your side, it was getting easier to just be excited about this party. You felt Alastor grip your arm tighter as you walked into a busy road. You tried not to bump into people, and after a thirty minute walk, you find yourself in front of a huge house. Was it a mansion?

You knocked on the huge door and a butler opened the door, eyeing suspiciously but before you could even your mouth you saw Alice running toward you. She was wearing an outfit similar to yours, as promised, but hers was white and blue. She looked almost angelic.

“ You made it ! Come, come, come inside!”

You walked into a huge reception room and there were already so many people inside. The butler took off your coat making you feel a little cold, so you just stayed against Alastor who put his arms around your shoulder. Alice introduced some of her friends, you could not remember every name, there were too many. Did Alice really know all of them? Some of them looked like real adults, and was that a band that was getting ready? You went with Alastor toward the buffet.

“ Well, what do you think of it so far?” you asked him with a tired smile. He took a drink and sniffed it before putting it back. “ What?”

“ Be careful, some of the brevage have alcohol,” he said before leaning against the wall.” but I’m not surprised. Your friend seems to be the type to always go big. Being able to pull off this kind of soirée with a war going on? I’m almost impressed.” he said before straightening his tie.

“ Alastor, is it you?”

You turned to the voice and saw a beautiful lady. She smiled sweetly at Alastor who gave her his usual smile. Who was she? She began to talk with Alastor, ignoring your presence. You tilted your head, it was the first time someone came straight at Alastor with you next to him. She seemed so confident, you almost envied her. Almost. You were a polite girl, you wouldn’t interrupt them but you didn’t want to stand next to them too long, it would get boring quickly. You took a drink from the buffet and sipped it. It was sweet, you wondered what it was. You smirked, you could already imagine Alastor’s face at the disgustingly sweet brevage you just had.

You should prank him. You took another cup and turned toward Alastor before being startled by the band who began to play music. You almost dropped the cup, that was a close call.. You looked at Alastor who was being dragged by the lady toward the dancefloor.

Wait what?

You stared at the scene in front of you, as Alastor began to dance with her.

What?

“ Oh, who do we kill before Christmas?” You turned your head toward Alice who was trying to see what you were watching. “ Oh… Oh, yes. Jealous?”

“ No! I’m just .. surprised. I didn’t know Alastor had other female friends.. Come on, let’s dance.” you finished your drink and dragged Alice who eagerly nodded.

You both danced with each other, smiling. It was fun! The band was playing some good tunes! She gave you a spin who landed you into someone's arms. You looked up and saw John, your school’s mate.

“ You look beautiful like this…” he said as he admired you. You nodded with a confident smile. You didn’t know why but you felt like the most powerful woman right now! He smiled at you, before looking away shyly. “ Care to bless me with a dance?” You laughed, so formal. You took his hand and danced with him, keeping your eyes open to match his steps. You did stop him from lifting you in the air though, you didn’t trust him to keep you up in the air but thankfully he didn’t take it badly.

You took a look at Alastor and couldn’t help but frown. He was dancing amazingly, as always, spinning the woman before tugging her against him. You pouted, you thought he only did that with you.

As the party kept going you were getting more and more agitated. Why was Alastor still not dancing with you? You didn’t know why, but most of the time you were a good girl but when Alastor was included, you could become the worst brat ever. You walked toward the buffet, took another drink and went toward the band, you needed to look confident. You spoke to the singer and he smiled before making some place for you. He placed the microphone in front of you and asked you what song you wanted to sing.

You smirked and asked for a song you and Alastor’s used to dance on when you were younger. You were watching the crowd, took a deep breath and began to sing. You stared at Alastor who was dancing with another girl but once he heard your voice he turned his head toward the scene , where you were standing. You couldn’t feel but something in your belly, just like that his attention was back on you. You saw the girl trying to keep his gaze on her and you smirked. Not today.

Today you were selfish.

You sang like there was no tomorrow, the crowd clapping their hands with the rhythm of the song, you didn’t think you ever sang this good. You had perfect control on your voice, you were even dancing on the stage as the band were giving their all with you. You looked at Alastor who was still dancing with the lady, even if you could see he was getting bored. Well, you could help. You began to sing with more energy, the band making the rhythm faster as well. You could feel your lips sketched into a mocking smile as you saw the girl not being able to keep up with Alastor. Perfect.

You went down the stage , still singing. The crowd parted for you and you couldn’t help but feel excited. You walked toward Alastor, he had his back on you. You slided your hand on his back making him flinch. He turned his head toward you with a surprised expression. You grinned at him, singing before smoothly taking Alastor away from the girl. You both were encircled by the crowd but you didn’t care. Alastor and you danced, never breaking eye contact. You kept the rhythm as fast as you could, every step was nailed, every spin. You would have your back against his chest and then he would spin you so your face was inches away from each other. And then Alastor lifted you in his arms before throwing you in the air. You closed your eyes, feeling perfectly safe. He promised he would always catch you if you were to fall.

You fell down in his arms, your head near the floor but never touching it. You felt his breath on your lips and you opened your eyes, staring right back into his gaze. He was sweating and so were you. You were holding his shoulder, breathing hard. You were both alone in your own world.

And just like that, the spell broke as the crowd cheered for you. You blinked and Alastor straightened you up with a genuine smile. You grinned at him before you both bowed to the crowd. You went back to the stage, giving back the microphone before going to the buffet, you needed some fresh water.

“ Oh my Lord, you both were.. I don’t even have the words!” squealed Alice as she shook you by the shoulders. You laughed at her reaction , it was just you being petty because Alastor wasn’t paying attention to you.

“It really was amazing.” John said as he clapped while you were drinking a glass of water.

“ That’s what happens when you let us do our things together, let that be a lesson folks.” Alastor said as he put his arms around your shoulders. You nudged him but couldn’t contain your laughter. You were having a great time.

You had other dances with Alastor, before people were making little group. You were sitting on a table with Alice,John,Alastor and other people you dind’t know. You didn’t know why, maybe they drank some alcohol but the conversation which was proper began to turn toward something more… spicy?

“ You’ve never kissed before? Hoho, you don’t know what you are missing.” said a lady to John who just blushed. The lady stared languidly at Alastor. “ And you, pretty boy? Have you ever kissed someone ?” You were ready to tell the lady to back off, you didn’t want her to embarrass Alastor because he didn’t have his first kiss.

“ Yes, I have.”

Huh?

“ Oh, I’m not surprised. And you sweetie?” you felt everyone's eyes on you and you blushed. Even Alice had already kissed someone !

“ N-no, I have never.”

“ Well, why not remedy it tonight, just before Christmas ! John, was it, why don’t you kiss our adorable singer right here?” you flushed even more as John was looking at you, seeming hesitant.

“ As if my dearest friend’s first kiss would be with such a boring fella, no offense my friend.” said Alastor sarcastly. You frowned, why would he care! He already had his first kiss and he didn’t even tell you. You stood up.

“ I need some air, I’ll be back.”

You took a sip of your glass with the sweet juice and went out, in the garden. You heels hit the paving stone as you try not to burst out of… of what? sadness? angryness? You sighed as you stared at the stars in the sky, you felt the snow falling on your naked arms. You could even see the air you were breathing.

“ You are going to catch a cold.”

You turned your head toward Alastor as he took off his blazer, ready to hand it to you. You shook your head.

“ No, I needed… I need the cold air.”

“ Why did you lie ?”

“ Pardon?” you turned your body toward him as he took a step toward you.

“ About your first kiss.”

“ I didn’t lie, I’ve never kissed anyone. And unlike you, if I did, I would have told you but Mister Alastor doesn’t care to share such a secret with me, am I right?” you crossed your arms over your chest. He smiled at you mockingly. You felt anger sweltering inside you.

“ Don’t you dare look at me like that, Alastor.”

“ You’ve always been endearingly stupid. My first kiss was with you, in your room, remember ?” he tilted his head as he took another step toward you.

You felt your body relaxed. You couldn’t be angry with him. He didn’t know. He wasn’t reading the same book as you. You have been so embarrassed when he had catched you reading a love story but at least you knew what a first kiss was!

“ Alastor, a kiss isn’t… A first kiss is something you must share with a special someone. Your lips need to touch the other one.” you blushed as you looked away. “ I think.. Th-The lips need to move against each other an-and..”

You took a step back but his hand found the back of your waist as he softly tugged you against him. You knew he was trying to find your eyes but you were so embarrassed by what you just told him.

“ So, a first kiss must be with a special someone, right?” he waited for you to nod before raising your chin with his finger. “ Then, can I give you my real first kiss?” You stared at him with your eyes wide open, your cheeks flushed red.

“ What..”

“ You are my most special person since childhood… For me, it’s only natural for you to have my first kiss.” he smiled at you, his eyes shining with that oh so familiar glint you were used to seeing each time he was looking at you. “ You don’t have to if you don’t want of course, but–”

“ I want to. You.. You are also my .. most special person…” he nodded with a soft genuine smile that made you feel warm inside. You closed your eyes as you waited for him to kiss you.

“ Nu-uh, keep your eyes on me.” you opened your eyes, blushing furiously.

“ You are supposed to close your eyes when you are kissing someone !”

“ I don’t really care, this is our first kiss, we’ll do it how we want.” he smirked as he approached his face toward you. Your eyes were looking at his lips then his eyes, you couldn't focus on something, you were stressed, you were nervous, you were excited. Your eyes were half closed when you felt his warm lips against your cold one. You looked at his eyes, his gaze piercing your gaze with an intensity too much to bear, you closed your eyes.

It wasn’t like in the book but you didn’t know why, you didn’t care.

You kept your eyes closed as Alastor stepped back slightly , you could still feel his breath against your mouth. You opened your eyes and gave him a shy smile as he whispered.

“ So dear, have you ever kissed someone ?” you nodded. “ With whom?”

“ Alastor.”

“ How was it?”

“ Perfect.” you smiled at him as he grinned at you before covering your shoulder with his blaze.

“ Come on now, the soirée needs its stars !”

Tag List: lukneetoonz @martinys-world @littlepoetnova @sirens-and-moonflowers @eris-norwega @tiredflame132 @mo-0-o @vvollerie @boogiemansbitch @sodavizz @tessemerick @slytherin4ever @kammsinn @alastorssimp

411 notes · View notes

trancylovecraft · 3 months ago

Note

Omg your requests are open!! I hope I'm not too late, can you do L Lawliet Alphabet pls? (Any type i don't mind!)

(DEATHNOTE) YANDERE! L LAWLIET x READER: Yandere Alphabet

RECEIPT ✂- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

BARISTA'S NOTE: TIHUIFUIHIHF THANKS FOR THE REQUEST! (and sorry for the wait T-T) GENDER: Femme FANDOM: Death Note

Thank you for ordering!

Come back soon!

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

L himself would show his love in a very cold and distant manner. One minute he could be shoving you away, Another he's forcing you to sit in his lap, A plate of cake in his right hand while his left types away at his computer.

But no matter what it will always seem distant and detached, Never putting in much effort. Though mistaking that for carelessness wouldn't be a good observation..

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

As messy as he needs to be. L doesn't see the purpose in unnecessary violence. If he needs someone dead then he'll do it in the most efficient way possible to him. Though I wouldn't put it past him to say that there may be a sadistic streak if he was pushed a bit too far.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

He'll treat you coldly and methodically. When you're in captive you'll be treated like an animal in the zoo. Your needs will be carefully tended to every day, On a schedule, Tailored to your preferences and your general requirements.

I wouldn't say L would be cruel, However I would say he would be distant and your time in captivity will be VERY lonely.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

Apart from the occasional affection- I'd say that you'd be under surveillance at all times, Your privacy being taken away from you. Even before you were taken you were monitored in your own home. In the bathroom.. The bedroom.. Everywhere.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

L bares absolutely none of his heart to you, At all. He doesn't show his emotions or feelings towards you in his body language, And barely his words too. Don't expect much emotional comfort from this man, He's.. Not exactly the best at giving it.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Annoyed. Or tired. If you tried fighting him then Watari would deal with you pretty swiftly, The old man having some surprising strength for his age. Even if you did get past Watari, L is pretty much a master in Brazilian jiu jitsu. You wouldn't even be able to touch L before you're dragged off back to your little cell.

L wouldn't even bat an eye, He'd just roll his eyes and continue on with his work.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

I wouldn't say it's a game for him, No, L wouldn't enjoy watching your escape at all. He'd be annoyed and rather irritated to be honest with you. By now, You should know that it's futile attempting to get away from him, So why do you keep trying?

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Drugged, Sedated, All of that business. When you're misbehaving too much he'd simply drug you to keep you calm and docile. Like an animal. That or when the loneliness finally gets to you and you break down sobbing in your little cell.

There's really a lot that could be considered the worst experience to be honest with you.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

You, Behaving and finally understanding that he just wants the best for you. Working as his assistant and his partner in future cases.

I wouldn't say L would want a family, But if you did, I don't think L would be opposed into being talked into it.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

At first, No, You wouldn't think L get's jealous. Or at least he doesn't show it. But on the inside? L is fuming, Though he certainly doesn't recognise it as jealousy. At first he tries to brush it off, But of course, If the person continues to stick around you then that's going to become a problem.

He simply knows that he does not like the person you are attentive to, And that he should get rid of them. As soon as possible.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

Not much different to his usual self. Though he certainly feels much.. Better, When you're around. Maybe he's a little bit calmer, Or maybe a bit more patient or perhaps elated. Though you'd need to know him for a long time to even notice these changes.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

Courting? Huh? You think L is gonna court you???

Well if you consider kidnapping and stalking to be courting then sure, But I don't see him interacting with you beforehand in a normal circumstance. Maybe if things were different he'd do what he did with Light and give himself a fake identity and befriend you, But I'd only see that happening if circumstances were unique.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Not really, To be honest. Unless you knew him for a long time and began to give into him, I doubt that he'd act any different around you. Though how he feels on the inside is a whole 'nother story.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Like a child having a tantrum. L would take away privileges if you acted out or tried to escape, And as I said previously, Would drug and sedate you if you got a bit too rowdy.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

Not many, Except for your freedom and your access to people- Of course. L has the finances to provide you whatever you want. More space? Done. The food you want? Done. He'd even provide you internet access, All monitored though, Of course.

But of course, If you acted out he isn't opposed to taking away the rights he's left you with if you try to act out.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

Inhumanly patient. L will wait years upon years upon years for you to finally accept your place here. He won't budge if you act out or try to fight him, Nor will he blow up or snap at you.

I don't see him having a breaking point, To be honest with you.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

Sure. Maybe at first he'd be able to appear like he moved on. Go about his day. His detective work like nothing had happened.

But as the years pass by it slowly degrades at him, Rots away at him. That yearning, That love he had no idea he had for you. It'd drive him insane over the years, The one thing that gave him that euphoria he never knew he had.

He'd never be able to move on. And it might just be the end of him.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

Not in the slightest, No. L wouldn't feel guilty. At the very most he'd be aware that what he was doing was selfish. But he wouldn't care and wouldn't let you go. Besides, He's taking care of all your needs, Right? Isn't that enough?

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

That inability to connect with other people, Understand others on an empathetic and emotional level. Even Watari, Who was basically his father. L never really had any idea what it was like to have a connection to someone purely built on a sense of empathy and relatability before you.

So of course, He acts accordingly.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

He'd feel a little bit apathetic towards your crying and screaming, Knowing that you'd calm down after a while. Most he'd do for you is get Watari to bring you some tissues or even a little something to cheer you up like food or drink if he's in the mood.

Isolating yourself? Oh, No, No. You couldn't do that even if you tried. Even if he's not there in person, The dozens of cameras monitoring you is enough for him to stay close to you in spirit. You wouldn't be able to isolate yourself, As long as he's got an eye on you that is.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

L not showing his actual feelings through his demeanour. Definetly. While the classic yandere is driven quite boldly insane by their love for someone, L doesn't display that at all in his body language.

He's just as insane, If not a little more than the classic yandere though. Just not good at showing it.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

Not much. The best I can give you is if L is invested in a case similar to the Kira one. If you play your cards right and bargain with someone like Light, Then maybe, Just maybe, You might have a chance.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Only if he deemed it COMPLETELY necessary, Otherwise. If you're not feeding yourself, If you're in a situation that requires it- L would hurt you. He might even feel a little bad about it, Too.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

He wouldn't worship you like a deity but he would hold you higher in status above everyone else. You're more interesting, Better than the others. You certainly are the closest thing he'd consider to be sacred and the lengths he would go to win you over would be subtle but far.

He'd research everything about you, Everything you love and hate. He might not seem like the kinda guy to care, And honestly he doesn't think he is either.

But he wants you to love him back, No matter how much he denies it.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

Maybe a few months, Maybe even a few years. He'll stalk you for as long as he feels like before taking you. Maybe a breaking point for him doing so being you getting a partner, Or if you got into some kind've danger.

It could take a good long while is what I'm tryna say.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

I can definetly see L doing so. Days in isolation in white padded walls will make just about anyone go a little bit bonkers in the head.

L would feel conflicted. One one hand you aren't putting up a fight anymore, But on the other you're just not you anymore. And L isn't sure which one he values more.

171 notes · View notes

pretty-circa006 · 4 months ago

Text

Unhealthy Attachments pt.1

Coach! Negan x Student! F! Reader

summary Negan, your gym coach, takes pity on you after seeing the way your peers treat you. tags mentions of bullying/ mild bullying, second person pov (sorry lol this is old pls forgive me) note this is an old WIP that i'm choosing to post because i haven't had time to write anything new (I WILL EVENTUALLY, I PROMISE, BUT COLLEGE IS DRAINING MY FREE TIME). this is part one of a multi-part series, maybe it'll even evolve into a longfic, who knows. btw you guys will have to pry coach negan x student reader fics from my cold dead hands bc i loooove writing these.

wc 1.3k

*you are responsible for your own content consumption. if this is something you DO NOT like, simply DO NOT read or interact! :) *

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆

You stood lined up with the other students in your PE class, waiting to be chosen by the team captains for this class' soccer game. It didn't even phase you how every other student was picked before you, leaving you the last one standing until one unlucky captain had to pick you. That's just how things went, you were always the odd one out. Even now, everyone wore the usual school issued PE uniform of a t-shirt and shorts, while you had on the sweater and sweatpants version- in ninety degree weather. You were just honoring your father's, the town's local pastor, principles of modesty. Being the pastor's daughter felt isolating. Nobody invited you to things or wanted to be friends with you for fear that the indecencies of their typical teenage behavior would get back to their parents by way of the pastor; and of course he'd get that information from none other than you, his daughter. You never would, though. In middle school, you learned the hard way to not be such a narc, but by then it was too late and nobody trusted you or even wanted to be near you.

"Over here!" you shouted to your teammates, wanting them to pass you the ball. You had a perfect shot to the other team's goal. Like always, they ignored you, but it didn't matter because they scored anyway. You didn't give up on trying to be a team player, though. The gym coach, Negan, was watching the game closely and you wanted him to see that you cared and tried to put effort into his class. Maybe it was because he was the only person who ever paid you any attention, but the fear of letting the handsome man down weighed heavily on you.

"Guys, I'm open!" you yelled. Your desperation to be a part of things was becoming so pathetic that Negan had to direct his focus elsewhere. Maybe it was by mistake, but the ball came rolling your way. Hope blossomed within you. It sounded silly, but you hoped that even something as little as you scoring a goal would make your class like you again. You kicked the ball, sending it flying to the opposing team's goal. It would have made it in if someone didn't intercept- someone from your own team, you notice- and kick it directly at you. You didn't have time to dodge it because it had already smacked you square in the face, knocking you over. You clutched your nose as you writhed on the floor in pain, salt being rubbed even further into your wound by the snickers of your classmates.

Negan blew his whistle and called a foul. He profanely scolded the students about their bad sportsmanship and lectured them on treating their teammates fairly. He helped you up off the floor and led you to his office with an arm wrapped around your shoulder. You sat in one of the chairs with your nose plugged up with tissues per Negan's orders after it started bleeding. It didn't seem broken, so he didn't deem your injury bad enough to send you to the nurse.

"You can go back now," he told you once fresh blood stopped flowing from your nose between tissue changes.

"Do I have to?" you asked with teary eyes. You were tired of all the bullying and just ready to graduate already. Your senior year was almost over and you were legally an adult, so why did you still have to put up with everyone else's childish behavior.

"You're all healed up. Don't see why you needa be in here any longer." It was obvious that he wanted you out of his office, probably feeling the same way your classmates felt about you. It shouldn't have surprised you, yet it stabbed you in the heart. Your chin and lips quivered as you blinked back the tears burning in your eyes.

"C-can I just stay in here?" you cringed at the way your voice cracked. He rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Just because your sucky ass team is losing doesn't mean you can hide out here and skip class."

"That's not why!" you pleaded.

"Then why?" he asked.

"Everybody hates me!" You couldn't keep it together after finally saying it out loud. You sobbed like a baby, tears streaming down your face and snot dripping from your nose. You were ugly crying but you didn't even care, it wasn't like you had anyone else's respect to lose. Negan got up and closed the door in an attempt to save you some dignity. Your breathing became short and rapid as your bawling made it difficult to take in oxygen.

"Teenagers are so goddamn hormonal and dramatic. Nobody hates you, kid," he said disinterested.

"E-even you d-d-do!" you choked out before going back to wailing. He felt bad for you. He saw the way others treated you and it made him feel worse seeing you long for the acceptance of people who rejected you and took pleasure in your pain. But that's high school for you.

"What makes you think I hate you?" he asked, genuinely curious. He didn't hate you, not even close. He just couldn't stand seeing you walking around like a kicked puppy-dog, it was pitiful. You tried to explain your reasoning, but everything that came out of your mouth was an incoherent blubbering, stuttering, and hyperventilating. He pulled you up from the chair and cradled you in his chest, just letting you sob into his sweater. He hushed you and rubbed your back in soothing circles. It was the best he could do, he knew his words sure as hell couldn't offer the comfort he wanted to give you. Your sobbing eventually calmed into small hiccups and occasional sniffles.

"Why does everyone hate me?" you whispered. He wanted to tell you that they didn't and that's just how high schoolers are, but he didn't want to lie to you.

"You're almost outta this goddamn shit hole, kid. Jus' keep your head held up high and finish the year off strong." He clapped a strong hand on your shoulder for added reassurance. You gave him a small smile before trudging out of his classroom and to the locker room now that the class was over.

...

Negan comforting you in his office that day made you feel like he was a safe space. He seemed to be the only person who cared, or bothered to do anything about how others treated you, even if it was just the bare minimum, you felt it was better than nothing.

"Coach," you muttered shyly, standing outside his open office door in the gym. He glanced up at you from whatever work he was doing and immediately sighed. It was a miracle to him that you were oblivious as to why people bullied you. Here you were, dressed so matronly in a long floral skirt that resembled an old woman’s wallpaper and an awful knitted sweater. He knew you were a pastor’s daughter, but did you really need to dress the part.

“What do you need, kid?” He asked, focusing on his work again. “Can I eat lunch in here?”

“Why? The bathroom crowded or somethin’?” He joked. When you nodded your head yes, he immediately felt guilty. He motioned with his hand for you to sit in one of the chairs before his desk. You happily took a seat before offering him half of your sandwich.

“It’s turkey,” you said when he looked at you strangely. He accepted the half and ate it while he worked and you sat in silence enjoying the change of scenery.

“You don’t actually eat lunch in the bathroom, do you?” He asked.

“There’s nowhere else for me to sit,” you admitted shamefully.

“That is fuckin’ disgusting!” You shrugged your shoulders and went back to your sandwich, embarrassed to let Negan see how pathetic your life really was. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

“Look, if you have nowhere else to sit, you can eat lunch in here.” You visibly perked up, a your face splitting into a joyous smile.

“Really?”

“Don’t make me fuckin’ regret it.”

next part ▶︎

163 notes · View notes

yurinaa-world · 1 year ago

Note

hello! can u do reader who likes to rest on characters lap? like whenever reader couldn't sleep but feel tired, they goes to character's lap while they're doing smth and reader sleeps :3 any characters but i prefer jing yuan n blade pls :D (its okay if u don't want to write this, i don't wanna pressure u haha and sorry for my bad english :'d i love ur works btw!!)

Characters: Blade and Jing Yuan x Gender-neutral Reader

Synopsis: laying in their lap while they're doing things

Warnings: Fluff and spelling mistakes,

Notes: IM SO SORRY I messed this up so hard, I wrote then I looked at the request, and I mentally slapped myself, If you didn't like this I would be fine rewriting it!

𝐵𝓁𝒶𝒹𝑒

This guy literally doesn’t do anything all day, just has his eyes closed and just rests (Warning: I love making reader a very little dramatic when it comes to Blade)

Dead silence; he did not say anything to you once you lay on his lap with a smile on your lips. You couldn’t help but feel a bit awkward. He’s always been quiet, but right now, you're starting to feel the silence stabbing you from every angle.

"What aren't you going to say?" you asked, opening one of your eyes to stare at him from below. "Want attention that badly?" He gave you an amused look, looking down on you as if you were some kind of little child. "Well, there's no fun if I just lay here," you pouted, looking at the ceiling as well as at him, his fingers going through your hair. He's figured out what you want from him—attention, of course—yet he just does what you want him to do, or you'll complain about it all day.

So instead, he stays silent and plays with your hair, but his hand moves to your face, creasing your lips with his calloused fingers. "You're such a pain," he whispers, leaning down to kiss you and then moving away before saying, "Yes, yes, you kiss someone you find annoying." You rolled your eyes, closed your eyes again, and sighed loudly.

"I know, bladie, you can't keep yours off; no man can!" You laugh, obviously joking.

What a personality you have.

𝒥𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒴𝓊𝒶𝓃

“How needy, hmm? What a pleasure it was to spend time with you. a pity I have work to do." Jing Yuan teased while you lay in his lap, watching him from above: reading his boring yet important paper, “You offered and I took it; you know it’s unkind to decline someone." You responded by tracing shapes on the thigh you’re lying on.

"If you don’t want me, then I'll" you cut off before you could even finish your sentence. “No need; you’ve already come, so you're going to stay like this." He said before turning the page of his paper, "I was just joking." He said while ruffling through your hair, making you frown a little, that he messed with your hair.

You both lay in silence. You broke first, asking, “When do you think your paperwork is going to be finished?" He chuckled at your comment.

"A couple of hours, it seems."

“Hurry it up, and I’ll give you a gift."

You stated matter of factly crossing your arms in front of your chest, “What kind of gift?” He asked curiously, looking down at you, and you shrugged your shoulders. “It’s a surprise. Do it and find out,” he chuckled at your words.

"Alright, I'll take your word, but this better be a good gift since I'm working so hard for you, hmm, don’t you think?"

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot

#✧*:･ﾟ✧:･ Yurinna's Writing :･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧#honkai star rail x you #honkai blade #honkai blade x reader #honkai blade x you #blade x reader #blade x you #honkai star rail #hsr x you #hsr x reader #hsr x y/n #honkai star rail x reader #jing yuan #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x you #hsr jing yuan #star rail

487 notes · View notes

thenameswinterfics · 2 months ago

Text

CAOINEADH

Fandom: The Last Kingdom Pairing: Sihtric Kjartansson x Banshee!Reader Settings: Season 2, brief mention of moments from S3 to SKMD Summary: While wandering outside Dunholm with his mother, Sihtric is visited by a creature whose presence brings terrible news to his family. Years later, the Banshee returns to the mortal lands and Sihtric, now grown up and in the service of Uhtred, faces the consequences of a bad omen. But the tragedy also brings them closer together. Word Count: 5,2 K Warnings: Angst, mention of blood, mention of death, mention of main character death(s), human/monster romance, hopeful ending? , me writing Finan's Irish accent. A/N: After a long time, I'm back to writing for my favourite Dane rat boy. I'd somehow forgotten how much I loved and enjoyed writing for him, especially after a period of putting him aside for a while. This feels like I'm republishing a fic of his for the very first time, so I'm terribly nervous. I hope you like and enjoy it. If you find the ending a bit rushed, I'm sorry. I finished it while it was late at night in my timezone, and everything will be fixed eventually when I'm awake and more aware of my actions. Many thanks to @foxyanon , @legitalicat and @zaldritzosrose for helping me with the Banshee lore, for writing Finan's accent, for the emotional support, for the beta reading and last minute corrections, and to @sylasthegrim for the early beta reading and emotional support as well.

This fic is my entry and first submission to the Fan-Frankentober event, organized by @fandomeventcenter. Here the masterlist to take a look at the other works.

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE. I APOLOGISE IN ADVANCE FOR MY GRAMMAR AND VOCABULARY MISTAKES.

Header by me (template by @zaldritzosrose) Dividers by me and @zaldritzosrose

READ IT ON AO3 (COMING SOON)

Caoineadh: Irish and Scottish Gaelic pronunciation of "keening" (to cry, to weep); traditional form of the vocal lament for the dead in the Gaelic tradition.

By the time Sihtric stopped running, he had no more memory of the place he was in.

His hands, clenched into small fists, rubbed his tired eyes as he tried to scan the surroundings, looking for any detail that might help him orientate himself in the unknown space. He could not recognize the long tree trunks rising from the ground, their dry branches seeming to touch the twilight sky as he watched the sun's rays filter through the few remaining canopies.

The place was eerily quiet, the sound of the wind blowing and moving the branches and leaves on the ground the only sound to break the surreal yet disturbing atmosphere. He felt a shiver run down his spine and the little Dane suddenly hugged his shoulder, as if to hide his head between them like a turtle.

It was one of the few times he and his mother had left the strong walls of Dunholm together, Sihtric enjoying the fresh air of the forest while Elflaed was busy gathering flowers and herbs that he had little interest in. Sometimes his curiosity would get the better of him, his big, mismatched eyes fixed on Elflaed's wooden basket and how many herbs she had managed to gather. When his mother felt his eyes on her, she would patiently stop picking and crouch down beside him, patiently explaining what she was doing as she wrapped his small body around her, only to see her son wriggle out of her embrace soon after and play with small sticks nearby.

Sihtric was usually a quiet and obedient child: when his mother asked him to stay close to her, he obeyed without a fuss. That day, however, something caught his attention, a heartbreaking wail that filled his ears and shook his heart: it was a gentle but sad song that carried pain and sorrow, hiding a sense of concern and care towards to whom it was addressed. Armed only with a small stick and with curiosity teasing him, Sihtric dared to disobey his mother for the first time, and entered into the woods while leaving his mother behind.

And there he was, lost in an unfamiliar place, with nothing to defend himself but a small stick. He was too young to call himself a warrior, barely able to hold a knife, let alone wield a sword that was too heavy for his tiny hands and a shield properly. Hiding and fleeing was the only option he could take in case of real danger, for he had spent his whole life hiding from the wrath of his cruel father; but the surroundings would make the task impossible, as the tall and twisted trees casted long shadows, and the undergrowth cracked with every step he could take.

Suddenly, the silence of the forest was broken by the same sorrowful chant that dragged him in the deep of the woods. Holding his wooden stick in his hands, Sihtric moved carefully in the direction of the voice, trying not to make noise while the ground cracked beneath his feet.

The walk was short, and he found himself in front of a small lake he had never seen before. Squatting on the bank was a young lady in a blue gown, her black hair cascading down her shoulders like pitch-black watercourses, giving the little boy her back as she continued to sing her lament. Sihtric could hardly understand what she was doing, her head almost hidden beneath her shoulders, her hands working frantically to move the water in small ripples.

Holding his breath and trying to be as quiet as a mouse, Sihtric crept up behind her, lifting his small head and trying to find the right angle where he could see what she was doing underwater. His heart pounded furiously in his chest, fear and anticipation creeping into his bones as he felt the keening close to him, the chanting drawing him in even if he couldn't understand it. But as he crept closer, something beneath his boots cracked softly, and the sound was enough to make the lady turn and show her face to the boy.

It was the first time he met you.

Sihtric watched with frightened eyes as your icy blue gaze locked on his and a low hiss escaped your mouth, your pale complexion adorned by scarlet tears rolling down your eyes. Behind you, piles of clothes lay scattered on the grass, others dripping in the water that had lost its transparency and had become muddy with blood.

The little Dane found the strength to stand up and try to run away, but he soon fell, tripping over a stone behind him. Your ghostly presence, now calmed down after the initial fright, lightly approached him and crouched down. One of your slender hands rested on his cheek, your touch as cold as the death itself. But the words that came out from your lips were way colder, breaking the silence with your voice as soft as the silk but sharp as a piece of glass.

“She cannot escape to the Other World.”

“She?” “Escape from what?” “What is the Other World she is talking about?” These were the words that filled the boy's mind, filled with nothing but fear and the coldness of your touch. But soon Sihtric's tiny body was enveloped in a familiar warmth, and two arms lifted him from the floor. It was only when warm, trembling lips were pressed to his forehead that he recognised the touch of his mother, who had searched for him after losing sight of him.

“Sihtric!” Elflaed cried while holding her son close to her. “Why were you here all alone? I told you never to leave my side, never! Oh, my sweet boy!”

The young Dane watched as he silently pointed to the spot where you appeared before him, but a cold realisation hit him as you were no longer there, gone like ashes in the wind.

Sihtric did not answer, too lost in his mother's warmth and love, and the bad omen you gave him still shook him to the core. He clung to her presence, and each time your words echoed in his mind, he sought comfort in his mother's presence, even when they left the forest and the warmth of her small hut welcomed them.

But a few days later, the opening of the Other World shook nature and its creatures. And his mother's soul was claimed after a long agony.

Standing outside Eoferwic, you looked up at the walls that surrounded the town, admiring the mix of Roman, Danish and Saxon architecture that was unfamiliar to you: you were there when the Romans laid the foundation stone on the ground, and the same souls were the first you guided to the Other World, announcing the sad event in the form of a manifestation to the families you watched over.

And you were called to do your duty again: to find the same boy you met years ago, to tell him that more of his family's souls will be claimed in the days to come. They will not be gentle and innocent like those of his mother and grandparents you guided through the other world: they were violent, reckless, stained with blood’s innocents and sins far from forgotten. But it was up to the god or gods to decide where their souls would go in the afterlife.

Your pale eyes scanned the area, and when you found a small stream where you could wash the dirty clothes you were carrying, you walked over and dipped your hands into the cold water. You watched as your fingers swirled around the cloth and the water lost its translucency, a faint reddish tinge staining it.

The night was still, and a gentle breeze rustled the trees, lightly caressing your raven locks. You continued to scrub the clothes in the water as your wailing began, your lament filling the air and mingling with the sound of the rushing water as your eyes watered and scarlet tears rolled down your white face.

As on that night, something soft cracked on the ground and your wailing stopped. You lifted yourself from the ground and turned towards the sound, and soon found yourself crouched beside a young man, probably trying to sneak up on you without attracting attention.

He was a handsome man, the most beautiful your eternal eyes could ever have seen; his features sharp, his fair skin adorned with a few scars on his forehead, eyebrow and cheekbone, a knotted tattoo crossing part of his head, his dark hair cut at the sides and combed into three plaits and knotted at the back. These were features that were strangely familiar to you, your mind trying to remember when was the last time you saw him.

But it was his eyes that captured you the most. There was pain, melancholy and innocence in them - the same light you had found in the bicoloured eyes of the little Danish boy you had reached outside Dunholm. You felt a sudden flicker of recognition, your eyes widening slightly as you recognised that lost and frightened boy in the man he had become. The years had moulded him into a skilled warrior, but the softness of his eyes remained unchanged, you noted.

You chose a cautious approach, slowly closing the distance between you. You noticed his body trembling and his jaw clenching, his muscles not moving from where he was: it was still unclear to you whether he wasn't moving out of fear or anticipation.

“It has been a long time, sweet boy,” you broke the silence, using the same nickname you had heard his mother call him. Sihtric stood frozen, partly enchanted by your ethereal appearance and your voice, as melodious as the birdsong at sunrise.

His eyebrows furrowed and his expression changed from alienation to curiosity: your figure was too familiar to him, but he could not remember where he had first met you.

“Do… Do I know you, lady?” the Dane asked, holding his breath as the silent nod of your head answered his question.

You took a long pause before answering him, "You do, in a way," you said in a soft voice that carried the weight of your grief. You took a step closer, noticing that the Dane was shifting his incongruous gaze slightly away from you, "But I have known you since you were a little boy playing spy in the deep forest.”

One of your hands reached out and rested on his cheek, the cold touch awakening something in Sihtric that he thought he had buried deep in his heart. He remembered your figure knelt near the lake shore, your icy blue gaze that penetrated deep into his soul, the cryptic prophecy you had given him but he was too young to understand.And then he remembers the mother he lost, and how it was one of the last nights they wandered the Dunholm woods together, and how after her death the Dane desperately tried to find you to explain, but you never showed again.

Instinctively, one of his calloused hands reached for yours, shivering at the cold of your pale skin. But he never pulled you away: instead, he leaned against you, finding the softness of your touch endearing.

“I remember your touch,” he murmured shyly, lowering his gaze as it briefly met yours, fascinated by your pale eyes, “It was you, all this time,” he continued, earning your satisfied hum.

“It is your family that forged our bond,” you announced with a solemn tone, absently doing circles on his skin with your thumb, “It was your mother’s souls that bound you to me.”

The mention of his mother made Sihtric snap back to reality, and pain filled again his mismatched eyes, “My mother’s soul?” he repeated in a whisper, a slight trembling could be heard in his voice, “What did you do to her? Why didn’t you save her?”

His voice broke down when he asked his final question, and the red tears rolled down your cheeks furiously “Why did you take her away from me?”

“It is not me who willingly chose to wrestle your mother from your arms,” you murmured softly, your other hand resting on his other cheek, cupping his face completely. Your thumbs gently wiped away his tears, and you could hear him draw in a sharp breath. Under the moonlight, you could see a faint blush in his cheeks.

“It is fate that foretells a mortal's permanence in this world and how their entry into the Other World will come about,” you explained carefully, as if you were talking with a child. “It is my duty to show myself to you and to guide you through the painful parts of death. Your pain is my own burning.”

An uncomfortable silence fell over you, the weight of your words making it almost impossible for you both to speak. Finally, you summoned the courage to speak again, and your next words sent shivers down his spine.

“The Other World is shaking, more souls from your family should be claimed,” You solemnly stated, and your words brought a sense of uneasiness and confusion in Sihtric.

“Lady,” The Dane lowered his gaze, his cheeks burning at the sight of you, his body trembling at the surreality of the information he was receiving that night, “I have no family left outside my mother and my grandparents,”

You chuckled softly and shook your head, amused at his naivety, "Even if they neglect you, there are still ties of blood that fate will sever."

Sihtric clenched his jaw, his gaze darkening at the memory of a father who neglected you and looked at you with disgust only because he was guilty of being born a bastard, and of his half-brother who always looked at him with the same disgust for their father. The news of their imminent deaths brought him an unexpected sense of peace, and the chains of his tortured past will be broken forever: but he would fear how their deaths would affect him, when the damage they had done was far from repaired, and the memories of his past would knock furiously at his door, reminding him that no matter how hard he worked to forge his own path, he would forever be marked as a slave.

The Dane was about to open his mouth to reply to your words when a loud, rough voice called him out from a distance.

“Sihtric! Come back here, yer little runt!” Finan’s voice brought him back to reality, forcing the Dane to shift his gaze and look at him.

“I am coming, Finan!” Sihtric replied to him as quickly as he could, so that he could face you and ask you about the fate of Kjartan and Sven in death.

But when he turned his eyes again, you were gone. And a sudden emptiness filled his heart and saddened his soul.

Later in the evening, the atmosphere within the walls of Eoferwich was playful and joyful. Warriors gathered around small tables outside, filling their stomachs with food and ale while telling stories of women, successful raids, or simply myths and legends from their homelands.��

Sihtric's mind was elsewhere that night. It was common for the warriors who shared a seat at his table to see the young Dane so shy and taciturn, a pattern they justified from his earlier days as a slave in Dunholm, his eyes darting around while his body tensed at the proximity of the too many people in front of him.

But this time it wasn't the echo of his past that tormented him: it was you, your stunning, ghostly presence and melodious voice had bewitched him and altered all his senses. It was as if he was seeing you for the first time, for he had seen you when he was a little boy, unaware that his world was about to collapse upon him and that he would have to rebuild it all by himself. Now that he was a young man and more aware of his own feelings and the world around him, it felt like a string pulling him towards you, longing for your touch and the way you spoke of destiny and its inexorable flow. And the mystery surrounding your figure made you even more desirable in his eyes, and he often wondered if he was facing a goddess herself.

Sihtric's thoughts about your figure were suddenly interrupted by Finan's speeches about his homeland, Ireland, its customs and its most famous legends. One in particular caught the Dane's attention, and he shifted his gaze from his reflection in the mug to the Irishman.

“I told yer tha these creatures ain’t nothin’ but an omen of death!” Finan spoke with such emphasis, looking at Clapa and the few men at the table listening to him. When he felt Sihtric's gaze resting on him, he continued his story. “Legends say they’ll appear in front of yer, sometimes washing bloodied clothes, and they’ll cryin’ and wailin’ somethin’ terrible tha will hit ya family.”

Sihtric listened intently to Finan's words and felt his hand tremble as he gripped his mug of ale. He felt all the dots connect at once, especially when he saw you washing dirty clothes and singing a mournful chant, your wailing so tearful that it filled the listener's heart with sadness. He also remembered facing you twice and seeing the tears of blood leave your eyes.

There were no creatures like you in the Norse legends and beliefs, and Sihtric wondered how a creature from a different faith could become the spirit guardian of his family.

“I found a beautiful lady washing a pile of clothes not so far from here,” The Dane murmured against his will and soon the animated atmosphere died down and he shrugged as he felt all eyes on him. His mismatched eyes found the Irishman's brown ones and with a slight nod he silently ordered him to continue.

“She was singing something,” Sihtric continued, his voice faltering slightly as he could feel the intensities of their gaze on him, “It was a lament, something so heartbreaking that it chills the blood in your veins.”

His gaze rested on Finan while he spoke his last words, “She brushed my skin and was cold at the touch. And then she was looking at me with her pale eyes, crying blood-“

“Cryin’ blood, yer said?” the Irishman asked in an urgent tone, and Sihtric nodded his head. Then he reached for the Dane's shoulder and squeezed, but not too hard: Finan knew what the wrong touch could do to a former slave, especially one as young as Sihtric.

“That woman you claimed to have seen before… Did ya know what a Banshee is?” Finan asked Sihtric, and received a shake of head as an answer. The Irishman sighed quietly, and leaned his face close to the Dane.

“Tha’s the spirit I was talkin’ about before. They’re bound at yer family and they’ll come wailin’ and cryin’ blood while announcin’ the death of yer loved ones. She can be either a gorgeous woman or a vindictive old witch. Tha’s someone ain’t to be trifled with, remember this.”

Sihtric gulped at Finan's description of the Banshee, which was nothing like what you really were. You were so gentle with him, taking care of his pain and not putting the burden of grief on his shoulders. How could such a sweet creature as you be the dangerous spirit that Finan described earlier?

“She treated me with nothing but kindness, Finan,” the Dane replied almost innocently, and the Irishman grinned at his words.

“Then ya were a lucky bastard!” he retorted in an ironic tone, gently slapping Sihtric’s cheek and returning to his seat.

The conversations continued with more stories of the Banshees and Irish legends until Uhtred broke the mood by calling for Sihtric, who obediently rose and reached for his Lord. And after preparing the final strategies of war, everyone fell asleep, thinking of the battle they would face at Dunholm and how you would draw the veil of death over their heads.

After a day of celebration, Sihtric found an opportunity to sneak out of Dunholm fortress through the small door in the east wall used by the servants. He followed the small watercourse that flowed into the forest entrance and, armed with his sword and dagger, he walked into the heart of the forest, his movements light as a feather to avoid any upcoming dangers.

Once again, the prophecy you told him about your family proved true, and on the day of the battle both Kjartan and Sven were killed, their souls taken by you and sent to the afterlife. While the event lifted a great weight from Sihtric's shoulders, free at last to forge his own destiny without the cruel shadow of his father tormenting him, he wondered if you knew the difference between your afterlife and his, and if his father's soul did not rest beside Elflaed's. The image of Kjartan distressing his mother even in the afterlife made his heart skip a few beats: he would rather accept slavery under the cruel Lord of Dunholm than see his mother tormented in heaven, having found the peace she never had in life.

Finding you would be the only way for him to be reassured and to have the answers he wanted. But finding you would also mean surrendering to your cold touch, losing himself in your lifeless eyes that stirred emotions he could not believe he was feeling. Finan had warned him to be wary of spirits like you, but you were nothing more than a comforting presence at his side, a guardian who would watch over him even if he could not feel you.

Fortunately, Sihtric found the little spot where he had found the two of you the first time, remembering the details of the foliage and surrounding vegetation. And there you were, sitting near the shore, gazing out at the shimmering water, your presence quiet and not filled with your lamentations. When you appeared, Sihtric noticed how your pale face was cleared by your scarlet tears and held his breath at how even more beautiful you were without crying, the pale rays of the moon caressing your skin.

"You came," you said with a gentle smile as you stood up and approached him.

"I thought I would find you here, lady," Sihtric replied sheepishly, his cheeks turning red as he saw you closing the distance between us. He swore he had never seen such a beautiful creature as you.

"I realised I never asked what your name was," the Dane continued, but you cut him off with a shake of your head.

“Names are not important for eternal creatures like us,” you explained while you cupped your cheek in your hand, brushing his skin with your slender fingers, “you do not need to know my name to feel close to me. I will always watch over you, Sihtric.”

“I refuse to believe a creature as beautiful as yours is deprived of a name that does her justice,” Sihtric replied, closing his eyes while abandoning himself to your touch, ignoring the lump that was forming in your throat.

You could not remember what your real name was, for you had forgotten it when death took you in its arms. You did not remember your former life as a young woman full of hopes and dreams, and how a violent death, coming from those closest to you, extinguished your light forever.

Ignoring all your thoughts, you shook your head and looked at Sihtric, who covered your hand with his calloused one and pressed his lips to your palm, feeling the coldness of your skin against his. It was a small gesture of affection that set a heart beating that you had forgotten you had, for it beat only with sorrow and grief.

"You claimed the souls of my father and half-brother today," it was Sihtric's turn to break the silence, wrapping his strong arms around your slender waist and pulling you close. Even though you were a ghost, you looked so real in his eyes and he was content to touch you and cradle your form.

"The doors of the Other World have indeed been opened to them," you replied, almost lost in his touch, "but for them there is another path to take, one filled with eternal pain and damnation."

The sight of his body tensing at your words saddened you, so you spoke quickly to reassure him, "Your mother and father have taken different paths in the afterlife. They will never meet again.”

Sihtric felt another burden lifted from his shoulders, and his body suddenly became light: he was glad to see that his dear mother's soul was enveloped in the eternal light of beatification, while his father was probably rotting in the depths of Niflheim, surrounded by cold and darkness, for he died without a weapon in his hands. But even if he had gripped his sword tightly with his last breath, Sihtric did not believe that Odin would open the gates of Valhalla for him.

“Thank you,” the Dane whispered softly, giving you the first sincere smile you’ve ever seen while watching him growing up. His bicolored eyes shone with a renewed life, tasting that freedom he thought he could never have in his life.

But a new realisation hit him hard, and the light in his eyes was replaced by a look of suffering: your duties were done, and you would return to the veil that separates the living from the dead, and watch over him silently but without concealment. He was not ready to say goodbye to you, not after he had found a person who would treat you with kindness and make his heart beat faster, it mattered not if that person was a creature from the afterlife or not.

“Do not go, please,” Sihtric pleaded in a feeble voice, his jaw clenching as well as the grip he had on you, afraid that you might vanish at any moment. He moved your body close to his own, resting his warm forehead on your cold one.

“I have to, Sihtric,” you explained quietly, though you felt your eyes burning and your scarlet tears about to escape. “I am bound to the spirit world, preparing families for their upcoming deaths. You are a young warrior, with life burning inside you.”

You closed your eyes, overwhelmed by the warmth his living body is giving to you, a warmth you used to radiate as well. And when you felt a rivulet of blood escaping from your eyes, Sihtric’s arms were quickly cupping your cheeks, wiping them with his tattooed fingers.

"One day, when the doors of the Other World open again and the veil between our worlds forms its rift, they will give me the call to take you, and only there will you be mine forever," you added, the words slipping easily from your tongue as you lifted your gaze and locked it in his eyes. You have never had anyone look at you with love in their eyes, not even in your previous mortal life. Sihtric was sent to you to show you that a damned spirit like you could be loved and deserve to be loved. But he was the right person at the wrong time.

“Promise you will live and wait for me until your hour will come.”

Sihtric took his time to calm down, closing his eyes and breathing slowly to calm the tears that were about to fall and to suppress the pain inside him. He thought he had found the right person to spend the rest of his life with, to take you as his wife and build a family with you. But he had to face the cold truth that you were not a living being and that you would soon have to leave his side.

The Dane opened his watery eyes again and looked at you with burning desire as he gently lifted your head with his hands. "I promise I will wait for you, my love," he swore, clutching his Thor's hammer with one hand, "and when that day comes and death takes him, I will be ready to go. And there I will be yours forever."

You both raised your faces to each other like a magnet drawing you close, sealing your eternal promise with a kiss that poured out all the love you both had carved out of each other, but that your time had not yet allowed. And when you reluctantly broke the kiss, you slowly turned and walked towards the small lake, your body disappearing into a cloud of mist that slowly dissipated into the air, the sound of a bird flapping its wings in the distance. Sihtric watched your disappearance with pain in his heart and watched over the lake until morning, when he returned to Dunholm to be reunited with Uhtred and the others.

Over the years, Sihtric had kept his promise and lived a true warrior's life, the once shy boy growing into a skilled warrior and confident man. He became one of Uhtred's most trusted allies and closest friends, and together with Finan and Osferth they wandered the borders of Mercia and Wessex, the Danelaw and East Anglia, eventually reclaiming Bebbanburg for Uhtred, who reclaimed his birthright and became its lord.

Feeling that you were always watching over him, you only appeared sporadically to bring him and his band of friends bad news: it was your job to inform him of the impending deaths of Gisela and Thyra while he was at Coccham, to warn him of Father Beocca's death before their first attempt on Bebbanburg fortress, and to claim Osferth's soul at Rumcofa. Uhtred was next, succumbing after a long and arduous battle, followed soon after by Finan, too old to even stand properly on his feet.

You were at his side, emptying his heart of grief as his mouth claimed yours in fleeting kisses before you went back to hide in the veil. You watched Sihtric grow old over the years, loving every single wrinkle on his face and every white hair that appeared over the years, while to him you were always the same young woman he fell in love with when he was a young and inexperienced lad.

And when he grew old and grey, surrounded by nothing but the walls of Dunholm, of which he had become lord, he felt the doors of the Other World open and a bird flap its wings, followed by the sound of a gash. With dying eyes and a tired smile, he watched you keep your own promise and claim his soul as he breathed his last, and feeling his body rejuvenated by the effects of eternal life, he took you by the hand as you reached the gates of the Other World, and with a long, desperate kiss, you sealed your eternal life together, and your souls at last lived and rested in peace.

If you've come this far, thank you so much for reading my fic! Hope you enjoyed it! Please, leave a comment if you want to be added in the taglist or be removed.

Sihtric Kjartansson Taglist: @whitedarkmoonflower @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @foxyanon @legitalicat @zaldritzosrose

@alexagirlie @sylasthegrim @lord-aldhelm @sihtricsafin @arcielee

@volklana @gemini-mama @ladyinred2248

#fan frankentober 2024 #sihtric x reader #sihtric kjartansson x reader #sihtric x you #sihtric kjartansson x you #sihtric fic #sihtric kjartansson fic #the last kingdom fanfic #the last kingdom fic #tlk fanfic #tlk fic

97 notes · View notes

halsteadlover · 1 year ago

Text

𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞

*Gif and pic not mine credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader.

• Requested: no.

• Summary: your life is amazing. You have everything you wished for, a caring and beautiful husband, a satisfying job, an amazing house. What if in a matter of seconds, your incredible fairy tale is about to take a tragic twist?

• Warnings: angst, mention of car crash, blood, wounds, curse words, death.

• Word count: 7580.

• A/N: Please don’t kill me. Y’ALL BETTER EAT THIS FIC UP BECAUSE I PUT MY BLOOD AND SWEAT AND TEARS (always pretty please). I hope you’ll like this piece I know I was heartbroken writing it. Drop a like, a comment and reblog if you want, it’d be amazing and so helpful. I apologize for any mistake or grammar error. Thank you so much as always for your support, looking forward for your opinion. ❤️

“Baby!”.

“Y/n!”.

“You hear me? Please answer me”.

“Please hold on, everything will be okay I promise. Please… Don't leave me.”

What was going on?

Why did you feel so weak?

Where was Spencer?

Your breathing was heavy, cold shivers ran through your body but despite this you couldn't move a single muscle even if you could feel your body waving to an unknown motion, like you were floating.

Am I moving?

You felt your eyelids fighting not to stay closed even if you tried with every fiber of your body to fight against that tiredness that wanted so badly to suck you into the darkness.

You were so afraid.

You managed to slightly open your eyes, only for a fraction of a second, and all you saw was a blinding white light that forced you to close your eyes right after. It was so strong you couldn't open them again.

What it was?

Was it heaven?

Were you dead?

“Please baby hold on, if you hear me please fight, I know you’re so strong. I’m begging you… Stay with me…”

Spencer?

Yes, there was no doubt that it was him even if his voice carried in the distance, each word fading further and further. You wanted so badly to answer him, to shout you were okay, that you could hear him, that you were there with him.

But were you really okay?

No, I’m not.

And the more you fought against the darkness, the more it sucked you into its heavy vortex.

You fought, you really tried, but you didn't have the strength. You were too weak, too tired.

You just wanted to rest for a bit.

God please let me okay.

You eventually gave up, stopped fighting and let yourself be lulled by that darkness.

It was so peaceful.

There wasn’t any more pain. Any suffering.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad.

Five hours earlier

“I really don't feel like going to work this morning,” your husband kept complaining. You were both still in your bedroom, you were sitting while Spencer was lying next to you, his arm around your hips and his head on your lap.

“Hotch will kill you if you take a day off without warning,” you giggled, running your fingers through his fluffy hair. “I also wish you could stay here love, I feel so lonely here without you. But unfortunately you can’t.”

Spencer huffed, holding you even tighter. “I know I'm so sorry baby, I hate leaving you alone. I'm always so worried.”

“Oh yeah I know, the three thousand texts you send me always asking me if I'm okay prove it.” You teased him and even though you couldn't see him you knew full well he rolled his eyes.

“Ah, ah, keep making fun of me,” he retorted. “Is it really weird I want to keep you safe?”.

“No baby, I was joking. You know very well I love you're so protective of me and besides, I’m okay, you don’t have to worry about me.”

He kept caressing your side, leaving a kiss on it at the level of your scar, a gesture that made your heart melt. He looked up at you and smiled before propping himself up on his elbows, resting his free hand on your face and pressing his lips on yours. A flock of butterflies exploded in your stomach.

It didn't matter how long you two were together, you felt the same butterflies, the same feeling as in the early days, he still managed to make your heart skip a beat with just a kiss.

God I love this man so much.

“What will I do without you?” Spencer pouted, already missing you before he even got out of bed and got dressed. “I just hope we won’t have any case.”

Spencer had left for work, but not before recommending you to call and text him if you needed anything. You reassured him, telling him not to worry, that everything would be fine and of course you wouldn't hesitate to call him.

You settled on the couch and spent the morning watching episodes of your favorite TV show which, although you loved it, was getting tiresome.

Three weeks earlier you had been injured on duty while chasing a serial killer who had shot you as he tried to escape.

You were fine but Spencer, being his overprotective self, refused to let you do anything that involved physical effort and prevented you in any way from returning back to work before the five weeks of rest recommended by the doctor. And it didn't help that Hotch agreed with him.

Spencer did nothing but text you all morning when he could, asking how you were as if you were in a hospital bed. You reassured him, sending him selfies of you lying on the couch, asking him how things were going at the unit.

You loved Spencer so much, you loved the way he always protected you, the way he was so thoughtful of you, the way he always put you first in any moment and situation.

The morning was rather boring so you decided to keep yourself busy with cooking something for lunch, that you wanted to bring to Spencer too since you missed him and didn't want to wait until the evening to see him again. But you also wanted to see the rest of the team again. You hated to say it, but you missed those assholes.

As you packed your and Spencer's lunch, your phone vibrated on the table.

From: Spence 💍, 12.47 AM Is it weird I miss you so terribly? I'll never get used to not seeing you here.

You smiled like an idiot, knowing how much Spencer wasn't a fan of technology but despite this being committed to use it since you couldn't live without it.

To: Spence 💍, 12:50 AM Have I ever told you I’m so madly in love with you Doctor Reid? I miss you so much more xx

You placed your phone on the table and continued putting away your lunch. When you finished, you grabbed some clean cutlery and paper napkins and then looked at your phone, noticing he didn’t answer your text yet.

You left the house after making sure you locked the door, you went to your car, pulling your phone out of your purse to send an audio message to Spencer.

“Baby don’t eat anything because I'm coming with your favorite food. It's a little burnt I have to admit, but in my defense I was distracted watching TV,” you let out a small laugh. “If you know what's best for you, you'll better say it's delicious or you'll sleep on the couch tonight. I love you so much, see you soon!”.

You got into your car and placed the two lunch boxes on the passenger seat. While driving, you were careful not to brake suddenly to avoid all the food spilling into your car.

You stopped at a red light and you took you phone to see if Spencer had texted you back but he didn’t.

The light turned green after almost thirty seconds and you placed your phone in your purse again before starting to drive again. You were at an intersection and you just drove few meters before your saw out of the corner of your eye a car speeding towards you.

You turned your head towards it and tried to brake but you weren't very fast.

Everything happened quickly.

A sudden, deafening thud made your ears ring and time seemed to stop for an instant.

You didn't have time to react, to even let out a scream or do anything else before that car hit you full force on the side.

If someone had asked you to describe what had happened in that moment, you wouldn’t have been able to do it because you didn’t even know what had happened in the first place, having lost consciousness before you could realize you had just been involved in a car crash.

Spencer was unaware in the meantime his whole life was about to undergo something he’d never, ever want to face, something he continually lived in fear of happening.

He and the rest of the team were in the meeting room, investigating on a case of a serial killer that the police in a nearby town had asked for help with. It was a simple case, so it wasn't even necessary for the whole team to go there.

“Reid focus.” Hotch had warned him several times when during the morning he caught him on his cell phone, the small smile shadowed his lips making it obvious who he was talking to. So he had put his cell phone in his pocket although his mind always went towards you.

He wondered what you were doing although knowing you, you were probably watching some TV show and the thought of you lying on the sofa, curled up under the blanket made him smile, earning you a small pat on the back of the head from Morgan.

“Focus pretty boy, I know you miss your beautiful wife but we have a case to solve.”

This had started a series of jokes and teasing towards Reid who in response would gave everyone the middle finger.

The truth was that he missed you deeply, he missed looking up and seeing you sitting at your desk filling out some case report with your pen between your lips and the wedding ring shining on your finger, he missed flirting with you in a not-so-subtle way and being made fun of by the whole team, even Hotch. He missed traveling from city to city and working with you to catch ruthless killers, he missed seeing you sitting in your chair around the meeting room table.

He couldn't wait for those two more weeks to pass, although the worry you still hadn't fully recovered didn't leave his mind.

His phone suddenly started ringing and he muttered an 'excuse me' before taking it out of his pocket and reading your name on the screen.

He moved away from the others so he could answer the call.

“Hi baby! What...-” He started but stopped immediately after when a voice that didn't belong to you interrupted him, making the smile he had on his lips instantly disappear.

“Do you happen to know Y/n Y/Ln? We found this number among the emergency contacts.”

Spencer frowned, his heart already eating wildly and anxiety twisting his guts. “Y-yes. She’s my wife… What's going on? Who am I talking to? Where’s she? Is she okay?”.

“I'm sorry to inform you that your wife was involved in a car accident, she’s in serious conditions…”

Spencer froze in place, the man's words echoing in his head while he couldn't process them.

What the fuck?

“C-can you repeat that?” He stammered, hoping it was just a misunderstanding, that the man had gotten the wrong person. “There must be a mistake m-my wife… She’s… She’s at home…”

“I’m very sorry sir…”

Spencer Reid, who had always been a quiet, calm and collected person, completely lost his mind.

After getting the address of the car crash site he ran at lightning speed out of the unit, ignoring the voices of Derek and the rest of the team who called him worriedly.

His mind wasn't focused on anyone else but you and as he sped through the streets he couldn't help but think about what the hell had happened.

You were supposed to be home, on the couch watching TV. Why did you went out? Why didn't you text him?

His stomach clenched with anxiety, an emotion he wasn't familiar with but since he'd met you he often seemed to feel because of the constant and devastating fear something bad might happen to you.

He wasn't good with feelings, everyone knew it, but thanks to you he had learned to give voice to what he felt, he had learned to embrace those sensations and emotions he struggled to show from an early age and that for so long he wanted to suppress.

A lump kept pressing on his throat, almost suffocating him. He continued to murmur and hope you were okay but when he arrived at the scene his heart almost stopped again.

The car crash scene was a disaster.

Various passers-by had gathered in shock from a distance to watch curiously as the fire fighters and paramedics worked on those piles of scrap metal that were the cars.

They were completely destroyed and no one believed the two drivers had made it given the catastrophic impact.

Various emotions had passed through Reid, emotions that he could group into one word: dying. That’s how he felt, dying.

He pushed through the crowd of people, pushing them aside and ignoring those who complained in response. After identifying himself with the cops he ran towards the wreckage where the rescuers and firefighters had just pulled you out of the destroyed car.

“Let me go! That's my wife right there!” He continued to exclaim loudly while two cops struggled to restrain him. His gaze was fixed on you, on your unconscious body while the rescuers carried you on the stretcher.

“Sir you need to let the paramedics do their job! I know it's a horrible situation but this will only hinder them!”.

Spencer was a guy who didn't like conflicts but at that precise moment he was willing to kill those cops with his bare hands.

He snorted loudly, pulling out his badge. “I'm an FBI agent and if you don't let me go to my wife right now I will make your life a living hell and have your badges on my desk before tomorrow.”

It only happened very few times he’d threatened someone, and most of them were to extort information or to make a killer to confess, but the way his wild and desperate eyes were glaring at the two cops, made them understand he wasn't bluffing at all.

They eventually let him pass and he ran towards you.

You lay unconscious on the stretcher, your body covered in your own blood. You had an oxygen mask on your face, a collar around your neck to stabilize it and Spencer had to rely on all the strength he had in his body not to collapse there in front of everyone.

He couldn't believe it, he couldn't believe it was true.

He grabbed your hand with his, the diamond of your ring pressing against his palm. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat, not wanting to let his emotions overwhelm him. He couldn't be weak, not now, not when you needed him.

“Baby!”.

He called your name, desperation clear in his voice. His eyes scanned your face, always beautiful as the sun even if dotted with scratches and bruises.

“Y/n!”.

He called your name again, with even more urgency and desperation, hoping that hearing his voice would wake you up.

“You hear me? Please answer me.”

“Sir we have to go to the hospital immediately. We have no time to waste.” The paramedic's voice brought him back to reality and Spencer nodded, never taking his eyes off you.

“Please hold on, everything will be okay I promise. Please… Don’t leave me,” he whispered to you before turning to the paramedics. “I’m coming with you.”

The journey to the hospital was the longest and most painful ride Reid had ever made in his entire life.

He never let go of your hand, occasionally kissing your knuckles as he carefully watched every little movement the paramedics made.

At a certain point his heart rekindled with hope when he saw your eyelids move and open slightly.

“Y/n baby! Can you hear me? Y/n!” He exclaimed but his hope faded when he saw your eyelids close a second later and you lose consciousness again.

“Please baby hold on, if you hear me please fight,” His eyes filled with tears but he tried to fight them back, this wasn’t the time to cry. “I know you’re so strong, I’m begging you… Stay with me… I'm here, I'm here, and I’m not leaving you. Everything will be fine, you’ll be okay.”

You had a cardiac arrest on the way to the hospital but they managed to revive you and needless to say, this freaked out Spencer even more than he already was.

You died in front of him.

For a few moments your heart had stopped beating and the terror Spencer felt was a sensation he had never felt before. Maybe only when something happened to you during the job. He had always told you that you’d give him a heart attack sooner or later.

When the ambulance arrived at the hospital, Spencer barely had time to say anything before the doctors rushed you to the OR, leaving him helpless.

He passed his hands on his face, then fingers in his hair as he tried to figure out what the fuck was going on.

He had heard the police say the driver that hit you had lost control of his car after feeling dizzy, failing to stop at the red light and hitting you while you had just started driving again after the green light.

You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

It had all been a stupid twist of fate and now you had to fight to live.

Spencer didn't believe in fate, he didn't believe there was some superior being or entity, he believed in science, in empirical data, in theories proven by hypotheses and theses, but then why did this happen? Why was the love of his life fighting between life and death?

Why did it seem like someone or something wanted to snatch his happiness away when he was finally happy?

He walked back and forth across the floor of the waiting room for what seemed an infinite amount of time, almost digging a ditch in the wake of his footsteps.

He had called Hotch, told him about the car crash and that you were in surgery and he reassured him the whole team would be there in no time.

It wasn't until after you ended the call with Hotch that Spencer saw your last messages, including the audio text you'd sent him.

His fingers were shaking and he sat down, fearing his knees would give out sooner or later.

His eyes filled with tears again as they read the message and the chasm inside his heart opened even more. But it was when he listened to your audio message the air was completely sucked out of his lungs and it became difficult to continue breathing.

“Baby don’t eat anything because I'm coming with your favorite food. It's a little burnt I have to admit, but in my defense I was distracted watching TV,” He heard you giggle while in the background he heard the car door open and close shortly after, a sign that you had just gotten into the car. “If you know what's best for you, you'll better say it's delicious or you'll sleep on the couch tonight. I love you so much, see you soon!”.

Your audio cut out and Spencer only realized he was crying when tears fell from his eyes onto his phone screen.

He was completely devastated.

It was his fault.

You went out because you were going to bring him food.

He couldn't process what was happening, he couldn't conceive it.

How did you go from hugging in bed that morning to you in the OR? For what kind of fucked up reason did this happen to you? Among the many people who could’ve been at that damned intersection, why did it have to be you?

Spencer knew it wasn't right to hope it happened to someone else but he didn’t care, fuck, he wished it’d happened to himself.

For the first time in his whole life Spencer prayed.

He prayed with every fiber of his being to whoever was up there to make you survive, he prayed to be able to see you again, hug you, kiss you again. He prayed to hear your laugh again, your awful jokes, to see your smile and your eyes shining when you saw him, he prayed to be able to sleep with you again, to wake up in the morning and smell the scent of your skin and hair, of feeling your fingers run through his messy hair while you were watching a movie and he had his head resting on your lap.

He prayed to still have time with you. He prayed to start a family with you even though the thought of it terrified him because he had no idea how to be a parent, but at the same time knowing there was no other person he’d want to do it if not you. He begged to tease you when the first wrinkles would appear on your beautiful face but to console you at the same time saying you were still the most beautiful and breathtaking woman he had ever met in his life.

He prayed to see your hair turn white, to see your children have kids of their own, he prayed to hold your hand until the end of your days.

He couldn't imagine a place on the planet where you didn't exist, where you weren't with him.

You two just got married, you had just started your life together, it couldn't all just vanish like that, in the blink of an eye, it just couldn't end.

You were strong. This was one of the many qualities Spencer admired about you, you were much stronger than you wanted to show and if there was anyone who could overcome that obstacle it was you.

The rest of the BAU had arrived after about fifteen minutes, both with worried and heartbroken expressions on their faces except Penelope, who was crying almost as many tears as she had.

“Reid!”.

JJ's voice made Spencer snap his head up from his phone, not realizing he had been mesmerized by looking at the picture he had as his background. It was a photo of you he took during a picnic during one of your first dates after you got together, Spencer had told a horrible joke and you had burst out laughing.

Spencer was so hypnotized by you, by the sound of your laugh, by your smile, by the small wrinkles at the corners of your eyes that he couldn't resist taking a photo and since then it had become his wallpaper and one of his favorite photos of you ever.

Everyone could notice the swelling of Spencer's eyes, evidence of the crying.

“Come here pretty boy.”

Morgan was the first to approach Spencer, pulling him in a brotherly hug, squeezing him with all the strength he had in his body, as if wanting to convey to him some of that strength he knew he tremendously needed.

“She's gonna make it okay? We know Y/n, that woman is a force of nature. She’ll make it.” He whispered in his ear, trying to hold back his emotions.

Everyone tried to appear as strong as possible but the truth was they too felt a boulder pressing on their stomach. Before being Spencer's wife, his partner, you were a colleague, a friend to all of them.

Nobody said anything else.

There were no need for words, everyone knew it’d be of no use.

They all tried to comfort each other, Emily was holding Garcia's hand the entire time, JJ and Morgan were sitting next to Spencer while Hotch and Rossi were standing not far from the others, all silently praying for you wellbeing.

Reid's body was sitting in the waiting room, surrounded by his friends and colleagues, yet his mind was completely elsewhere. His thoughts ran and ran, without stopping, so fast he didn't know which ones to listen to first.

Spencer and the team spent hours sitting in the waiting room, waiting for some doctor to come and update them on your health. He hoped the longer they took it meant there was a better chance of you getting through the surgery.

When he saw a doctor approaching where they were sitting, it was as if a vision manifested in front of him. His heart was beating wildly, so loudly he thought everyone around him could hear it while anxiety twisted his stomach so much he feared he’d throw up on the doctor's feet.

“Are you Y/n Y/Ln's family?” the doctor asked.

“I'm her husband. How is she? Please tell me she's okay. When can I see her?” Spencer blathered once he jumped up and approached doctor - he read the card - Miller.

He looked skeptically at the rest of the team, and then Spencer spoke. “It’s okay, we’re all colleagues, a family. How is Y/n? She made it right?”.

Spencer observed the micro-expressions on Dr. Miller's face. He noticed how his eyebrows furrowed slightly, how his chest rose slightly and fell, how his lips pressed together, how his neck stiffened and his posture tensed.

He knew that expression, unfortunately he knew it too well because of the job he did. It was the same expression with which he looked at the victims’ families when he was about to give them the worst and most devastating news of their lives.

Spencer saw that but decided to ignore it, he decided not to listen to his guts.

“The patient suffered much more serious damage than we imagined…”

“And what are you doing here? Go help her!” Spencer exclaimed, abruptly interrupting the doctor.

“Due to the violent trauma and along with broken bones, the ruptured spleen, the liver damage as well as the amount of blood she lost, she had also suffered a dissection of the ascending aorta.”

Spencer's heart stopped.

“W-what? What does that mean doctor?” It was Penelope who asked.

“It’s the tearing of the aorta’s wall, the largest vessel in our body. It has weakened due to the trauma and it’s no longer able to pump blood towards the other blood vessels and consequently the entire body can’t receive enough blood. Trying to repair it’s practically impossible, as her heart has already stopped once, she’s too weak to face a surgery, and the dissection further aggravates the situation. She would die on the OR table before we can even get to the aorta,” Dr. Miller explained, trying to be as clear as possible.

“Dissection of the ascending aorta is unfortunately one of the most serious vascular conditions and… There is no easy way to say it, we have done everything we can but she does't have much time left. It's a matter of hours…”

A deafening silence fell in the waiting room.

Almost everyone put their hands to their mouths to try to cover the gasps and sobs, Hotch stared at his shoes while shaking his head in disbelief. No one could believe what they had just heard.

Spencer couldn't hear a word Dr. Miller said. His brain refused to process them, because it couldn't be true, there must have been some misunderstanding.

Maybe he had confused patient, maybe he had talked to the wrong family.

“No, no, no!” Spencer exclaimed loudly. Morgan put a hand on his shoulder but he shook it violently. “Don’t touch me!” Then he went on to point a finger at Dr. Miller.

“Say it again.”

“Sir…”

“Reid…” Rossi whispered.

“Say it again!” He shouted, his voice shaking. “Say it! Because there is no way on earth I just heard my wife is fucking dying! Say it again!”.

Spencer's voice cracked at the end and he burst into tears, bending to the ground as he felt his legs gave out.

Dr. Miller looked at Spencer with sadness while he was in the throes of disbelief and despair. Nobody dared to say anything, they too had to process that mourning, but they all knew that Spencer needed time more than anyone.

How do you react calmly when someone tells you that your partner, the love of your life, is about to die?

And it wasn't just any person, someone he just met, but you. You were dying.

Doctor Miller knelt in front of Spencer, placing a hand on his shoulder as he continued to cry all the tears he had in his body. “I'm so sorry, if there had been anything, anything we could’ve done to save her we would’ve done please trust me. I can't even imagine what you're going through right now but she's in the ICU now and she's awake, we gave her morphine so she doesn't feel any pain. Go and say goodbye to her, okay?”.

The world was collapsing on him, everything was disintegrating around him and he couldn't do anything to stop it.

How the fuck did this happen? How the fuck was that possible?

He couldn't believe it, he couldn't process what was happening.

It shouldn't have happened, not to you, you didn't deserve it.

He was terrified, more than he had ever been in his entire life, not even when he had been kidnapped and tortured by a ruthless killer.

Images after images of moments with you continued to flood his mind while a sense of anguish gripped his stomach, so strong he couldn't stop crying.

He cried.

Everyone cried with him in that waiting room, hugging each other.

All his dreams had been shattered, they had all vanished in the blink of an eye, flown away like a grain of sand in the sea.

Where did his ‘forever’ go?

His forever was in the ICU and was about to die. The only person he had ever loved, the only person who had ever understood him without trying to fix him, the only person who had ever made him happy, who had made him understand the meaning of the word love, who had made him believe that even if he came from a dysfunctional family that didn't mean the same fate would happen to him, the only person for whom he lived, breathed, for whom he committed himself every single day to fight his demons and ghosts was about to walk away forever.

How do you survive something like that?

What would he have done without you?

Spencer couldn't live without you.

He couldn't even imagine waking up in the morning and not finding you. He couldn't imagine coming home at night and knowing you’d be dead. He couldn’t imagine going in the kitchen and not smelling your food. He couldn’t imagine watch a romantic movie and not seeing you cry your eyes out.

No, no, no, fuck, that couldn't be true.

One by one they all came to you to say goodbye but no one spoke to each other. Spencer didn’t have the strength to walk into that room, he hoped till the last minute it was just a nightmare and he’d soon wake up.

There was only desperation and so many, many tears. Even Hotchner, always so serious and impeccable, couldn't stop the tears when he left your room, moving away from the others so as not to be seen.

The last one was him.

When it was Spencer's turn he was terrified.

His fingers trembled as they were about to open the door. He didn't have the courage to enter that room, look you in the eyes, say goodbye to his love.

With what strength would he have hugged you knowing it would be the last time? How would he be able to say goodbye? How would he be able to tell you he loved you knowing it was the last time? How could he let you go?

Every step he took was heavy, leaving a piece of his tormented soul behind each one.

Seeing you was like a punch in the stomach, like every time his eyes rested on you but that time what he felt wasn't happiness but only sadness, desperation, anguish and helplessness.

Oh my everlasting love. You didn't deserve all of this.

You lay in bed, a nasal cannula supplying you with oxygen, electrodes connecting your body to monitors that marked a low blood pressure and a below-normal heart rate.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, trying to rely on what little strength he had to not collapse to the floor and burst into desperate tears again. But the shine of his eyes, their swelling and redness showed how intensely he had cried in the last few hours.

You looked at him and he felt breathless.

How will I live without those eyes?

“Hi baby.”

His voice trembled, smiling slightly as he moved closer to you. He couldn't conceive the idea that the last time he had seen you was that same morning and you were fine, while at that moment you were on a hospital bed dying.

He pulled up a chair and sat next to you. He took one of your hands in his, intertwining your fingers and leaving a kiss on the back of it. All it took was for your skin to come in contact with his for him to burst into inconsolable and suffocating tears again.

He wrapped his arms around your hips, his head resting on your abdomen as you stroked his hair. It was a projection from that same morning but the difference was that this time would be the last.

He would no longer hug you, he would no longer be lulled by the warmth of your arms, feel your fingers run through his messy and tangled hair.

Silence reigned in the room, interrupted only by Spencer's sobs as he continued to cry desperately. He held you like he had never done before, as if in that way he hoped you would stay.

“It's okay…” you barely whispered, weakened and groggy from the morphine.

You felt… Apathetic.

You couldn't describe the emotions you felt at that moment, ever since the doctor told you didn’t have much time you felt anesthetized.

It was as if you were seeing everything from an external perspective, as if it wasn't really you lying on the bed, as if it wasn't you who was going to die in a few hours.

Not a tear had rolled down yours, not even when the rest of your team had come to say their final goodbyes.

You didn't want to feel like this, you didn't want to be apathetic, so numb. You wanted to feel anger, pain, helplessness, anguish, anxiety, anything, you wanted to cry, scream, but the more you tried, the more you couldn't.

“Don’t leave me please…” Spencer's sobs interrupted him. He continued to cling to you, to hold onto you as if his life depended on it.

“Baby, look at me.” Your voice was hoarse, thick with sleep and tiredness.

“No, no, no, I know what you want to tell me… No…” He held you even tighter than before. “You can't leave me…”

He turned his head towards you, his vision completely blurred with tears, his face wet. He brought his hands to your face, caressed your cheeks, your hair and tried as much as possible to imprint every detail of your skin in his memory.

“You're so beautiful baby,” he whispered, “It's not fair…”

“I know,” you whispered back weakly, “I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. But it's so unpredictable, isn't it?”.

“No, life sucks.”

You placed a hand on his still on your face, closing your eyes for a moment and enjoying the feeling of warmth that only he could give you.

“I know everything seems bad right now, I know you'll think this long after I'm gone but it's not like that love, life doesn't suck. It’s the most beautiful gift we could ever have...” you murmured with no small effort, your breathing heavy and difficult.

He shook his head. “Bullshit. You are my life, baby...” He cried. “I can't live without you. I can't... I can't go home and not find you there, I can't sleep without you next to me, I can't go to work and look up and not find you sitting there at your desk… I can’t…”

“Of course you can you’re the strongest person I know baby, even if you don't recognize it. You’ll be happy again...” You placed a hand on his cheek, drying with your fingers his tears that never stopped coming out. “Promise me one thing.”

“No, no, no, I can't, don't do this to me please… Don't make me promise something I can't keep baby…”

“Spencer, please. I can't leave knowing you won't be happy, please, I need to know you’ll at least try... Promise me...”

A solitary tear rolled down your face, even though you didn't even realize it at the time.

He shook his head, looking down as he continued to cry. He sat down on the bed next to you, pulling you into a hug you tried to return with the little strength you had left.

He left a long kiss on your head, inhaling deeply that beautiful scent he’d never be able to smell again in his life. He rested his cheek on you, letting your hair tickle his skin.

“I can't… I can't…” he repeated, feeling the air disappear more and more from his lungs. “You’re the first person who made me understand what it means to be happy baby… I don’t how to do it without you… D-don't… You can't ask me… I’m begging you…”

You slightly pulled away from him, cupping your hands on his face and smiling slightly through the tears you hadn't even realized you were shedding.

You were crying.

“I wouldn't ask you if I knew you couldn't Spence. I know it’ll be hard but life is beautiful baby, so damn beautiful and deserves to be lived to the full. Plus, I'm not really leaving okay? My body may no longer be here but my soul will always be with you, I’ll always be here when you need me, I will never leave you.” You spoke softly, your breathing heavy with each word. You placed a hand at his heart level which was beating wildly at that moment.

He shook his head again, still crying as desperation enveloped him more and more. “But I-I want you here…”

“Shh, listen to me love, please…” You stopped due to a cough. Spencer rushed to get you a glass of water from the bedside table, helping you drink and stroking your back in the meantime. “Thanks baby.”

Despite the morphine you still felt a weight on your chest, your lungs couldn't expand and everything hurt.

But it wasn't physical pain.

It was your soul that was hurting.

“Listen to me…” You started speaking feebly again, looking Spencer in his eyes, losing yourself in those two beautiful wells. “I need to know you’ll move on baby, that you’ll find someone you’ll love again and who will love you so deeply like I did, with whom you’ll build a beautiful family, with whom you’ll have children, a beautiful house and a dog if you want. This doesn’t mean you’ll forget about me, I’ll always be by your side at every step you take, I promise you, I’ll watch over you and if you need anything you just have to talk to me... Maybe not in front of other people or they’ll think you’re crazy.”

He chuckled through his tears and your heart skipped a beat. “That’s it. That’s the beautiful smile I always want to see, God you make me so happy.”

“There will be no one after you baby.”

“Spence please…-”

“No, no, you can't ask me that,” he murmured, his tone of voice so melancholy and sorrowful it made your gut wrench. “When I married you I never thought for a second there could be an ‘after you’, never, even though I knew the risks we both ran because of our jobs. There will never be anyone after you Y/n, there will never be anyone who can ever make me happy like you do, there will never be anyone I will ever love as much as I love you. It… It wouldn't be right...” He let out a deep sigh “It wouldn't be right for her, for... For the children because I wouldn't love them as much as I love you, because I would look at them and only think I could’ve had all that with you and I don't want that…”

He stroked your hair, looking at you with so much love it made your heart melt.

You didn’t want your time to end. You wanted to be with him, forever.

“Spencer… I-I'm terrified…” You managed to murmur before bursting into desperate, heartbreaking tears. Spencer hugged you while you sobbed into his sweater.

“I know… I know…”

Terrified didn't even come close to describing how you felt at that moment.

I'm dying.

Soon I won't be here anymore.

You couldn't conceive it, realize it, you couldn't accept it. But then again, how could you? Who would ever accept a death sentence?

You weren't ready.

You didn't want to leave Spencer, God, you had so many dreams to achieve together and it wasn't fucking right, it wasn't.

You just wanted to bring lunch and eat with your beloved husband, spend some time with him, why did this have to happen to you? What did you do wrong? You hadn't died from a bullet three weeks earlier but you were about to die for wanting to see your husband.

Why didn't you just stay home? If you had done it you would’ve been fine, you would’ve just had to wait for Spencer to come home that evening so you could hug him again. If you had done it you would’ve slept in the same bed, together that night, perhaps after making love, the next morning you would’ve woken up with his scent and his warmth, you would’ve had breakfast together.

You both cried until you couldn't breathe, holding on to each other as if you were both each other's lifelines.

You felt weak, every moment that passed breathing was like a punch in the stomach even though the oxygen flow had been turned up to maximum.

Hours passed and every minute that passed the fear paralyzed you more and more.

Spencer stayed next to you the entire time, hugging you and tightly holding your hand. You’d think he had shed all the tears he had in his body but instead he had never stopped, he continued to cling to you, to hold you in the hope that a miracle would happen.

He didn't believe in miracles, he thought there was a reason for everything, but in that moment he prayed for one to happen with every fiber of his being.

Your eyelids felt heavy and you struggled to keep your eyes open.

You were tired, so fucking tired, just wanting to rest for a bit but knowing if you definitely close your eyes you wouldn’t be able to open them again.

“Do you think heaven exists?” You whispered in a small, thin voice. Spencer kissed your forehead, continuing to stroke your hair as his salty tears kept running down his cheeks.

“Of course it exists, all the angels are just waiting for you. I'm pretty sure you’ll be the most beautiful angel of all, dressed in white and with the light surrounding you.”

You giggled, only to be interrupted by yet another cough. You were so grateful to have Spencer, that even though he didn't believe in an afterlife, in heaven, in angels, still tried to make you feel better.

“I'm so tired baby…” you murmured, closing your eyes for a few seconds before opening them again.

He held you tighter, feeling more tears streak down his face. “I know my love, but you can rest, I’ll always be here I promise, I’ll never leave you.”

“Spencer, you are the greatest and most beautiful love I have ever had in life, you made me the happiest I've ever been and I want to thank you for everything, for everything you have done for me, for teaching me the truth meaning of love…” You took a deep breath. “I will love you forever, I hope you know that, in this world and wherever else I’ll go. I know we’ll meet again, even if not in this life, we’ll meet in next one.”

He shook his head in despair as he continued to sob and cry. He wasn't ready to say goodbye, he wasn't ready to let you go, but who he was kidding, he never would be.

“I love you so much my darling, I will always love you until my last breath.”

He kissed your forehead softly again, pressing his lips to your skin longer than expected as he tried to make the most of those last moments with you.

“You’re the best and most beautiful thing that has ever happened to me. I love you, always and forever,” he kept whispered, hugging you. But you couldn't hug him back.

You had closed your eyes and fallen asleep, in the arms of the person you loved most in the world where you always wished your last moments would be.

The room was filled with sounds from the monitor connected to your heart, which had started to slow down.

Your heartbeat had slowed.

More and more.

Until it stopped and all that was left was a flat line.

General tag list: @hngbrooks, @alexxavicry, @halstead-severide-fan, @mrspeacem1nusone, @allivs, @omniaimy, @cursedashes, @kmc1989, @klovesreading, @firetruckstuckley

Spencer Reid tag list: @blorp-bee, @s1lverhand, @novabckly, @thebejeweledwatercat

Click here to be added to the tag list ❤️

Main Masterlist

Spencer Reid Masterlist

Support me on Ko-Fi ☕️

Side blog -> @halsteadloverslibrary

Ask link 💭

473 notes · View notes

hearts4hughes · 1 year ago

Text

BEJEWELED | QUINN HUGHES

nora’s birthday celly | quinn hughes x fem!reader

summary: in which quinn is pushing you away, so you make him regret it.

notes: this barely follows the song, but this has been in my drafts forever, just waiting to be finished. sorry for how rushed this is, but hopefully you can still enjoy it :) apologies for any mistakes or parts that don’t make sense, i do not feel like rereading this 😭

don’t put me in the basement

when i want the penthouse of your heart

"are you even listening?" your tone was harsh. quinn’s gaze averted away from his phone and locked with yours. with a huff, he placed his phone down. "mhm," he hummed, running a hand through his messy locks.

your eyes narrowed, "then what did i just say?" you crossed your arms defensively over your chest. his eyes dropped to your cleavage momentarily. "you were talking about," he paused, inhaling a thick breath. he knew he was dead. "going on that vacation with your friends?"

"are you fucking serious?" you huffed out a laugh. he replied with a tight-lipped smile. "of course you aren’t." you muttered, more to yourself than to him.

"why does it matter, y/n?!" he whined, throwing his head back and covering his eyes with his hands. "you’re always just bitching about something that doesn’t matter." the second the words rolled off his tongue, he knew he fucked up.

your eyes got wide and you swore steam poured out of your ears. "bitching?!" your voice was thunderous. "quinn, we used to do everything together! we used to be involved in each other's lives. now you’re the one who’s been distant and pushing me away. i'm tired of feeling like i have to wait for you to want to be a part of my life."

his features eyes widened, "baby, wait, no," he couldn’t even stammer out a proper apology. you stifled out a sarcastic laugh, rising to your feet and storming out of your living room. "fuck," he muttered under his breath, jumping up to chase you. he followed your angry footsteps into the shared room, where you were rummaging through your closet. his brows furrowed when you walked out of the closet with a black dress in hand.

you tugged off your tank top and pajama shorts, leaving you clad in a pink bralette and a matching thong. you had worn it for quinn, hoping to surprise him after his game, but that idea went to shit. his breath hitched as you stood there practically naked. the pink set you wore left little to the imagination.

"and where are you planning on going?" the brunette asked. "out," you simply stated. he huffed, "out where? and for how long?"

"i don’t know," you shrugged, shimmying into the tight dress and grabbing a pair of heels. "why does it matter, quinn?" you mocked with a whine. you smiled triumphantly as his face fell into a deep scowl. heels in hand, you stormed past him, brushing your shoulder against his purposely.

like a lost puppy, he turned on his heels, following you into the master bathroom. "why does it matter?" he spoke frustratedly. "it matters because i have a game in a few hours."

you grabbed your red lipstick, swiping the deep color onto your lips. catching his gaze in the vanity mirror, you stared blankly. "ok?" your tone made him feel small and pathetic. "you always go to my games." you took pleasure in the way his voice grew smaller.

and with the click of your lipstick, you turned around. your devilish smirk sent chills up his spine. his eyes scanned your face. you looked hot. "it’s annoying when people say things and then don’t do them, right?" sarcasm dripped off your voice. he opened his mouth to respond, but his words got caught in his throat. "yeah," you replied for him. "and doesn’t it upset you when you can’t get a clear and direct answer out of people?" his face dropped to his chest in defeat. "that’s what i thought."

this time when you stormed out of the room, quinn didn’t follow you— he didn’t even look in your direction. he just sat there, thinking about how he has been acting recently. he never meant to push you away. he’s just been frustrated about hockey. "shit," he tugged at his roots, running out to chase you, but with the slam of the front door, you left Quinn standing alone in the dimly lit apartment. his heart sank as he realized the importance of the situation. he had messed up big time.

desperation filled him as he cursed under his breath. he didn't want to lose you, especially not over a trivial argument like this. quinn quickly changed into a fresh set of clothes and grabbed his phone, dialing your number repeatedly, but it went straight to voicemail.

he decided to take action and drove to the place he thought you might be. he knew you better than anyone, and despite the frustration between you, he couldn't stand the thought of you being upset and alone. quinn was determined to make things right.

as he approached the location, he saw you standing under a lamppost, waiting for a taxi. your dress, your confidence, and the red lipstick painted a picture of defiance, and yet, vulnerability. quinn's heart ached for you, realizing how wrong he had been.

pulling up beside you, he rolled down the window and called out your name. you glanced over, eyes widening in surprise as he leaned across to open the passenger door. "get in," he said softly, his voice filled with a mixture of regret and sincerity, with a pleading look in his eyes.

you hesitated for a moment before sliding into the car. quinn's gaze never left you, his expression pained and apologetic. he cleared his throat and began, his words laced with genuine remorse.

"y/n, i can't find the right words to express how deeply sorry i am. i messed up, and i shouldn't have spoken to you that way. i was wrong, and i let my frustrations get the better of me. it's not an excuse, and i want you to know that i take full responsibility for my actions."

as you looked at him, you could see the sincerity in his eyes, and it tugged at your heartstrings. he continued, "you're right; i've been distant, and i shouldn't have let that happen. you mean the world to me, and i've been failing you. i promise i'll make it up to you, starting today. i'll be there, with you, every step of the way, and i won’t push you away this time."

tears welled up in your eyes, and you sniffled, feeling the weight of his words sinking in. "you promise?"

he nodded, his gaze never leaving yours. "i promise, y/n. i don't want to lose you. you're my everything, and i will do whatever it takes to make things right and prove that i'm fully committed to us and our relationship."

you forgave him, not because he was perfect, but because you could see the effort and sincerity in his apology. and, well, because you couldn't resist his puppy-dog eyes. without wasting another second, your hands flew to his neck, pulling his lips against yours.

with a sly grin, you leaned back, playfully wagging your finger at him. "you know, i don't usually accept kisses when i’m mad, but i'll make an exception."

he chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "ah, rule-breaking with you always seems like the best idea."

#hearts4hughes #nora’s writings 💐#quinn hughes #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagines #vancouver canucks #nhl fanfiction #hockey imagine #hockey blurb #nora’s birthday celly!

334 notes · View notes

jals-stuff · 9 months ago

Note

Hihi! First of all I LOVE your writing and thank you for feeding us hungry Orter fans with your work (I have been STRAVING for his fic) so if you don't mind, I have a little request! So I imagine in a what if Orter has a crush on someone (aka us and ofc we gotta like the sandman back) who's always on a dangerous mission due to how strong they are who is ALSO his partner time to time and one day, they just went into a coma from overusing their magic. MAYBE when they woke up, the two will confess to each other or?? Idk I will let you cook 🧑‍🍳

(Sorry if my wording is a little confusing!)

good day/evening anon! your wording is just fine no worries

first of all, thank you SO much, this brightened my day by a lot, you have absolutely no clue what kind of serotonin torrent you have unleashed. I am glad at least some people like my writings, that's why I'm doing it.

I don't think this is 100% close to what you described, but I hope you'll like it regardless-

Should be gn!reader if I didn't mess it up...

warnings: SLIGHT SPOILIES, bit dark, mentions of death, bit of despair... not proofread I am so sorry.

word count: 2.8k

note: I apologise for any dumb mistakes because I physically cannot proofread myself at 6am but if I don't post it now I won't do it ever. please don't hate me anon

What if...

As much as he hates to admit it (to himself, of course), Orter had grown a little bit too fond of you. The way you greet him whenever you come back from a mission, or the way you always make sure to respect the rules and act logically while also protecting everyone around you when the two of you would go on missions together.

The way you whine when your legs are tired after walking long distances, the way you always bring him a little something to eat when you know it’s going to be a long trip. You’ve always been good to everyone, much opposed to the cold man; but it wasn’t the only difference between the two of you.

Everyone has their own logic and, as much as you respected your own, his was quite different. While you wanted to take every single possibility into consideration, he preferred not to overload his mind with useless statistics and just think of a solution when the time comes.

However, a lot of things aren’t affected by logic, such as feelings, and how could the dense sandman guess that you were absolutely enamoured with him? These were variables he would’ve never imagined, even though he was painfully into you as well.

Of course, he was your top priority, and protecting him from harm even though he was a rather powerful mage was of the utmost importance. He should’ve known that when the two of you recklessly charged into enemy territory in an attempt to weaken the devil’s quintuplets before they would be on the move.

Orter was a man of many things, but “what if''s were not part of his usual reasoning, and that was the biggest mistake of his life. However he only realised it too late when you had to break your own limits to make sure he’d go back safely. It was time to retreat, but the two of you had been completely cornered.

Having a dormant god inside of your wand had many benefits, but Psyche was not an entity to be trifled with. The Soul Goddess would, each time you requested even a fraction of her power, take a huge toll on your stamina and sanity, and this time it was more than critical.

You were already exhausted from using so much of your mana, and now you were completely surrounded by Innocent Zero's sons. Unleashing your Psyche Inclination and ordering all of the quintuplets to sleep immediately surpassed your own boundaries.

You knew what would happen if you pushed beyond your limits with your personal magic, but it was completely worth it. After all, what was the point of living anymore if the only person you loved was dead?

All of them were immensely powerful, and neutralising such strong enemies was not a meagre task. As soon as the last one fell to the ground in blissful slumber, you felt something rupture inside of you; like a used rope that suddenly lets go, your breath hitched and you collapsed to the floor.

It was all pitch black, and your consciousness kept you company just long enough to let you hear Orter’s panicked voice calling out for you. Yet somehow, despite the fact that you were falling into the pitch-black abyss, you felt relieved that he, above everything and everyone, was safe.

But anything beyond the confines of your darkened mind was unknown to you and despite your multiple attempts to open your eyes and wake up, everything went silent.

“No, no no…”

Had you been awake, you would’ve been astonished at how Orter had never been that distressed before, at least not in front of you. The loss of his dear friend Alex Elliot had taught him a painful lesson not to get attached to anyone and to simply stick to the rules, but he had let himself fall for you, and now he was experiencing the trauma once more.

“Please, no… not them…”

Not only were you unconscious, you had done this to yourself for his sake. He was aware of that fact; had you not decided to literally put yourself through such an ordeal, the two of you would be dead already.

But unlike his deceased junior, your heart was still beating and there was still time to save you. He had never run so fast in his entire life, carrying you carefully in his arms to bring you back to the Bureau’s infirmary, laying you down as gently as he could as the nurses rushed to assess your state.

You weren’t hurt, so to say, but the abusive usage of your personal magic had plunged you into a coma, and it was unsure if you would ever wake up from it.

It looked like you were peacefully asleep, maybe dreaming of a better place you would possibly join soon; unmoving and slowly breathing, as if nothing had happened. Orter knew you could possibly open your eyes anytime, and it kept him distracted every time he would fill his paperwork or go on a mission.

Whenever he had free time, he would rush to the infirmary to check on you, make sure you’re still breathing, or even talk to you. It could help you come back to your senses, or so the nurses said, and as ridiculous as he felt when he talked to your inert body, he would’ve done anything in his power to bring you back, as slim as the chances were.

But then it suddenly hit him. What could he possibly tell you if you ever woke up? He would for sure apologise, but other than that? How could he face you after you had quite literally sacrificed yourself for him? He wasn’t even sure he could look into your eyes again.

Did you resent him for this?

Would you forgive his recklessness?

Would you give him this warm smile he had gotten so used to?

And would it be time for him to finally admit his feelings? You were right here, in front of him, yet you weren’t there. He missed you so dearly, the sound of your voice, the shit eating grin you’d give him whenever he was wrong and you were right, the way you’d laugh at his disgruntled expression afterwards…

All of these interactions he thought annoyed him were now severely missed and he would’ve given anything to even just see the colour of your eyes one more time.

And see he didn’t, for what seemed to be an eternity. Everyday, when he’d come to visit you, a small part of him hoped your eyes would be open and you’d greet him the way you always did, but every time, he was met with your inanimate form, comfortably laid in the infirmary bed.

His hope of hearing your voice ever again gradually vanished with every one-sided conversation he had with your unconscious figure, swallowing down his emotions with every word he said. He was slowly accepting the fact that you might just never open your eyes again.

The more this thought settled into his mind, the more desperate he grew, and suddenly, his usual mindset faded away and his brain filled with “what if”s.

What if he had taken some time to listen to your suggestions, what if he had thought of a plan B like you always had? What if he had ever told you about his feelings, what if you loved him back? What if you didn't? What if you never woke up?

Dread took over on his other emotions and suddenly, it wasn’t hope that drove him to visit you everyday; it was despair. What if you never opened your eyes again? How could he ever live with your presence replaced by this horrifying feeling of guilt for letting you die in his place?

You were surely powerful enough that you could’ve ran away on your own, and left him behind if needed; it would’ve been the logical, reasonable thing to do. But the heart has its reasons which reason knows nothing of. Of course, he should’ve known that you would never leave him behind, but precisely because it was completely illogical, it never occurred to him that you would willingly let yourself be hurt if he had a chance to make it out alive.

Now he was sitting at your bedside and kept hoping you’d wake up, just open your eyes and talk to him, greet him and say everything was going to be fine, just the way it was before… it seemed like he hadn’t heard your voice in an eternity, and it was weighing on him the whole time. Like a burden he would have to carry forever if you didn’t wake up from this coma you had put yourself into for his own sake.

His eyes never left your figure as he spoke to you kindly, as if you were still awake. Of course, occasional visitors would look at him like he was a lunatic, talking to someone who was obviously not here to answer, but it didn’t matter to him anymore.

Orter was ready to abandon his image for your sake, sometimes even skipping work and breaking his own principles so he could hold your hand for another minute before going on yet another perilous mission.

The thought of you dying peacefully in your sleep haunted his mind every single day, and his sorrow was great enough that, more than once, he did consider exhausting himself enough so he would be defenceless enough for an enemy to just take him out of his misery.

For weeks, months, his mind was plagued with the thought of you leaving him forever, of not being able to tell you about these feelings he thought were completely unnecessary. Shame and rejection didn’t even matter to him anymore and he just longed for the day you’d wake up and even just look at him.

He was on a mission, the day he heard that one of your fingers had merely twitched. Breaking protocol was far from his usual behaviour, but he needed to see you. That is how he accidentally drowned an entire area in sand, catching both enemies and harmless monsters in his Antlion’s Nest.

The rules didn’t matter to him anymore, it was a physical need to see if you were okay and to maybe, just maybe hear your voice.

However, he walked in on something completely different. Many of the other Divine Visionaries were gathered around you in religious silence, observing you. He had to push through the crowd and his heart stopped for a second when he saw you.

You were sitting up in your bed, slightly confused as to why everyone was staring like this. For you, mere seconds had passed but in reality it had been literal months. As your eyes travelled amongst the crowd, you saw Orter, who was also staring at you in utter disbelief.

The infirmary was completely silent, and no one was moving, as if time had suddenly stopped. Ryoh threw a glance at the others and they just silently left. Now it was just you and Orter, looking at each other in both confusion and shock. He stumbled towards the chair that was resting near your bed and he slowly took a seat.

“Well… you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Upon hearing your voice, he let out a sigh he didn’t know he was holding. It was like all of his burdens were suddenly lifted off his shoulders and his head and arms simply collapsed against the mattress, much to your confusion. You raised your hand to reach for his hair and upon seeing how your nails had grown so much, you realised something probably happened.

“It’s been months! I thought you’d never wake up! I thought I wouldn’t hear your voice ever again. Why on Earth would you do such a thing? No, no... it was all my fault. I'm sorry, (Y/N), I'm so, so sorry.”

He sounded angry, but he really wasn’t. You started connecting the dots and it took you a bit of time to understand that you had been unconscious for the past few months, worrying the poor sandman to death, though right now it didn’t matter at all.

“I’m glad you’re alive, Orter.”

Although you had been unconscious for literal months, seeing the Desert Cane unharmed was such a huge relief for you. However, not everything was swell inside his mind. He still felt extremely guilty that you nearly died for him, and nothing could possibly pay back this humongous debt he thought he owed you.

But seeing his relieved expression when he looked at you was enough of a payback. He had watched you wither away for months and now you were finally back to the world of the living, eyes focused on him and him only.

You tried to stand up but as soon as your arms attempted to lift your form, they gave out and you started losing balance. Orter immediately stood up from his chair to catch you, wrapping his arms around your now weak body to support you, but even after you were back to your spot, he wouldn’t let go. He simply sat on your bed next to you, not letting go.

Almost out of instinct, you rested your head on his shoulder and let out a long sigh, your arms raising up slightly.

“Please, just rest, you must be really exhausted.”

But his words just didn’t reach you, you needed this. After a while and a lot of effort, you managed to rest these weak arms of yours against his shoulders, on the sides of his neck, and he fell silent. You had no strength at all but he could feel you use all of your willpower to embrace him, and you also seemed like you wouldn’t let go.

He seemed fine with it as he slightly nuzzled your neck and closed his eyes, finally relaxing a little after this emotional rollercoaster. It felt so comfortable to finally be in his arms after such a long time spent longing for him, as if you were finally where you belonged.

“I missed you.” Orter said quietly, close to your ear. His arms tightened around and you would've probably cried hadn't you been so exhausted. Your words were stuck in your throat and you could only nod and hum softly, your voice cutting inside your throat.

His arms tightened around you further, holding you into a comforting hug, one of his hands gently going through your hair and keeping your head close to him. You exhaled again, wanting nothing more than to keep holding him.

“Just don't let go. Please.”

Your voice was muffled by his embrace but you were close enough to his ear for him to understand your words, and you could've sworn you heard his breath hitch for a second as his arms tightened even harder around you.

“I won't.” He sighs into your neck, comfortably seated on the side of your bed, and you wanted nothing more than to lay back down and have him hold you, but you were still in the infirmary and it would've been very problematic to be seen like this.

“I won't, ever. I can't.” He held you even closer now, like he was trying to merge with you, your chest and his pressed against each other as if to share your heartbeats.

Although you had never seen Orter being this close with anyone before, it all felt very natural. Just like the way his hand slid from your hair to your cheek, like the way he moved away from you slowly, his usually cold gaze now soft and filled with something you weren't quite used to.

Just like the way he couldn't take it any longer and gave in to the physical urge to softly press his lips to yours. You didn't pull away, of course; the moment too precious to let surprise ruin it.

You returned the kiss, your eyes now closed to take in the pleasant, wholesome warmth his embrace brought to you, after you'd been so cold for literal months.

As nothing lasts forever, your lips and his slowly separated, but his eyes were now on yours again.

“I won't let you fall again, (Y/N), I promise.”

You couldn't help but give a soft chuckle and his expression turned slightly puzzled. Of course, you two didn't share the same braincells.

“I've already fallen too hard.” You breathed out.

His eyes widened for a second before he regained his composure and brushed a few hairs away from your face to place them behind your ear.

“Then I guess we’re both down now.” he finally admitted, his expression just a little softer and his lips almost curved into a smile.

You were suddenly thankful for Orter holding you so close, lest your heart would've jumped out of your chest.

“I love you, just… in case it wasn't clear enough.” He awkwardly added, and you thought it was just adorable. Another chuckle escaped you with a nod.

“I know. I love you too.”

He hummed softly and sighed deeply in relief.

That was one “what if” finally satisfied, and probably the first of a long list.

#mashle x reader #orter madl #orter mádl #mashle #mashle magic and muscles #orter mádl x reader #orter madl x you #orter x reader #mashle orter #orter madl x reader

134 notes · View notes

hannieween · 1 year ago

Text

bad idea | backstage series | l.sm

It was all an act. A mantra you repeated to yourself since the moment you first kissed. You'd made a pact with Seokmin to remain friends. Yet even when his touch seemed like wildfire, you clung to the fragile threads of that promise, as you felt yourself melting at the touch of his lips.

♡︎ pairings: lee seokmin x afab!reader ♡︎ genre: angst, smut mdni you'll get blocked ♡︎ aus: theatre performer seokmin,fake dating with benefits ♡︎ word count: 10.8k

↣ part 1 – part 2 – navi post

₊🎧: i.m - more ♡︎ | kiss of fire - woodz

₊ nsfw tags under the cut

♡︎ warnings: multiple mentions of food and alcohol, swearing, smut with plot, pet names: baby, noodle (hers), soft dom seokmin, big dick seokmin, multiple unprotected sex scenes, unprotected sex in public spaces (1), doggystyle, creampie, oral sex (f, m), soft-edging, a bit of praise kink (f) drama | i wrote this at 3am so sorry if there's any mistakes weird time jumps in narration again sorry

part 3

The pain in your chest was almost unbearable.

You found support with your hands on your knees, breathing hard under the scorching bright midday sunlight.

"I'm calling it," Seungkwan announced, he was pretending to look for your pulse with two fingers under your jaw. "She's dead. Or will be. Soon. I give her twenty two seconds."

"Shut up, Kwan," you laughed brushing his hand away. "I'm just out of practice, okay?"

"Well, no shit, dummy," he laughed. "You've been spending too much time with your boyfriend now, you barely have time for volley."

His white sneakers came into your view, so bright under the sunlight that almost blinded you. Seungkwan patted you in the back twice, and walked off.

"Yeah, that and the fact that we've been going for hours," you stood upright. "Can we go? I really need to eat something otherwise I'll truly die."

He scoffed and brushed sweat from his brow with a towel. "Fine. But you're buying."

"What? Why me?" you whined, still breathless. "It's your turn!"

He turned to the bleachers to grab his stuff, and you followed. "Consider it as pay up for standing me up last tuesday."

"I've told you already that I'm sorry for that!" you whine again when you grab your duffel bag and follow him away from the volleyball court.

"Buy me coffee and I'll think about it."

Seungkwan wasn't angry at you. You knew that. He just liked playing with your head because he knew you still felt guilty for standing him up.

So you bought him iced coffee and a bowl of yogurt parfait.

"Now, you're trying to get under my good graces again," he said feigning dignity, lifting his chin up and eyeing you up and down.

"Well, I truly am sorry for standing you up," you said as you dug into your bowl. "I know I should've texted. I was... busy."

Your best friend saw your cheeks flush. "Oh, keep the details to yourself, please," he said, threatening to throw his plastic spoon at you. "I don't wanna know what you two were doing."

Last tuesday you woke up to find your friend, Seokmin, lying in bed next to you.

He was lying face down, his muscly arms around his head and hugging the pillow his face was half buried in, your lavender bed sheets covered him up to his lower back, leaving his bare back to your view.

On his back were pink scratch marks that you had made on him the night before. Then you understood the fixation he had for the hickeys he gave you on your neck.

You resisted the urge to touch him. To use your fingertips to connect lines between his moles and freckles of his face. Even asleep, he looked beautiful.

Silently, you grabbed the first piece of clothing from the floor and left your bedroom in search for your phone. The scent of Seokmin's plaid shirt coated you when you put in on closing a few buttons.

As you made your way out the bedroom, you noticed your muscles blissfully sore and tired from the day before. So in your search, you took the opportunity to drink water and take something for the pain.

Your jeans were tossed on one side of your couch, and right there you found your phone just a few minutes before your first alarm went off at 7 am.

An hour later, you had prepared breakfast and coffee when Seokmin emerged from your room, wearing his jeans and putting his white tank top on. His face and hair were slightly wet, which you assumed he had washed himself before joining you in the kitchen.

"Morning," you chirped.

You saw him glance your body up and down, noticing you were wearing his grey plaid shirt.

"G'morning," he pressed his lips in a smile.

"Are you hungry?" you asked with a shaky voice because for some reason you felt nervous under his gaze.

"Famished," he muttered.

You pushed a plate full of scrambled eggs, toast and bacon onto the counter of your tiny kitchen, which had two stools that already came with the lease for your otherwise mostly empty apartment.

Seokmin eyed you, a sweet smile on his lips. "I feel spoiled," he quipped and sat on a stool. "How can I repay you?"

"It's just breakfast. Chill," you laughed and handed him a cup of coffee.

"Still," he said while munching on his toast. "The next one's on me."

"What, you'll cook for me?" you asked, incredulous.

"Of course not," he chuckled. "I'll take you somewhere you won't die from food poisoning."

When you saw his sweet smile, a sharp pain tugged in your stomach. He was so cute that it gave you the same feeling you felt whenever you saw a squishy so cute you wanted to squeeze it.

You realized that you too had a smile on your face while you ate breakfast with him.

When Seokmin helped you clean the kitchen, he sang while doing so. It was usual for him, whenever he had a new role he did that, he would just break into song loudly and perfectly. He was known for doing that and it turned into a bit when you were in uni. The menace walking in the halls before class, singing loudly at 8 in the morning.

But you liked it. You've always liked it even when he only sang the same lyrics over and over again every five minutes. Each time was better than the one before it.

Now as he had to rehearse the songs for his role, he sang them from start to finish while you finished doing the dishes. Like your personal little show.

His voice was warm, it was like sunshine warming your chest after a cold cloudy morning.

He was sitting on a stool, scrolling through his phone while still humming some tune. You had finished doing the dishes already and he noticed, lifting his head to see you.

You had been quiet for a while, and it wasn't just because you were listening to him.

"What's going on in that head of yours?" he asked.

You approached where he was sitting and leaned on the kitchen counter next to him. You chewed the inside of your cheek, deciding where to begin.

"I uh... never thanked you for what you did when my ex was talking to me," you breathed. "I didn't know how to get out of that situation and you helped me. Thank you for that."

He blinked and put his phone down. "You don't have to thank me for that," his brow furrowed a bit. "Even if I wasn't your fake boyfriend, I would have done it."

"Well, I felt like saying thanks because it meant a lot to me," you mumbled, tugging at the sleeves of his shirt that fit you a bit too large.

"You never told me what he said to you," he reminded you.

You rolled your eyes at the memory. "He says he's happy that I moved on. And that he wants to put everything behind us," you chewed on the inside of your lip. "He never once said he was sorry, though."

"Does an apology from him mean anything to you?" Seokmin mused, "I mean, given all the shit he has said and done to you."

"It doesn't," you put in simply. "It doesn't mean anything to me anymore. But I'm still angry that I didn't have the guts to tell him that."

Seokmin's eyes darkened. "It's not worth it," he muttered. "I don't think he deserves your forgiveness."

That made you smile. "That's a bit extreme."

"I mean it. He's an asshole. He broke your heart," if he didn't look serious before, he did now.

Your lips quivered a little bit when you tried to hold your laugh in.

"Don't laugh," he muttered with pouting lips.

"You're cute when you're angry," you laughed.

"I'm not angry," he countered, still pouting his lips but then he broke into a smile.

"Bullshit, Lee Seokmin," you smiled, landing a soft slap on his shoulder.

"Shut up," he muttered and grabbed your hand with his as it landed on his skin.

Then he yanked your hand towards his body, pulling you between his legs as he was still sitting on the stool, now you were face to face, the counter digging at your back.

"You're such a tease, do you know that?" he muttered with a playful smile, before capturing your lips with his.

Hands gripped your hips and after squeezing once he decided that it wasn't enough so he dipped them under his plaid shirt, finding your bare skin with a groan.

"I like how you look with my stuff on," he growled before crushing his mouth on yours again, tongues lapping and sinking his teeth on your lips.

Then he stood up from the stool, pushing it back as his hands on your hips lifted you up and took you to the bedroom. You let out a yelp when your back hit your bed, but as soon as his lips found yours again you immediately wrapped your legs around him.

His left hand made his way to the base of your head, grabbing your hair to pull your head back. A moan left your lips as he dipped his head to kiss your sensitive neck, he had made hickeys there so he was now kissing them softly.

The other hand was placed on your hip, under his shirt. He traced circles on your skin softly, sending shivers down your body.

"Seokmin," you gasped when his tongue slid on the crook of your neck.

"Mmm?" he hummed in your ear. "Want me to stop?"

The question wasn't genuine. It sounded gentle on his voice, but you knew he was taunting you. You muttered some incoherencies under your breath, you didn't even know why you called his name but sure as hell you didn't want him to stop.

"Mm? I didn't catch that," he muttered.

"Do that again, please," you whimpered.

A sigh brushed your collarbones and you could tell he was smiling when he found the sensitive spot on your neck again and planted a wet kiss on it before lapping your already tingling skin with his tongue.

That drew a moan out your mouth. And suddenly you were too conscious of all the noise you've been making.

But Seokmin's fingers pulled the shirt you were wearing up to reveal the lower half of your body. He kissed you sweetly on your sternum, all the way down to the band of your panties.

You noticed that he ignored your chest area, but didn't think too much about it. Two of his fingers came down to your clothed pussy, feeling that the fabric of your underwear was already wet in your arousal.

You jolted at the touch, even if he wasn't really touching you. "Seokmin, please. Stop teasing me."

He deposited one chaste kiss on your mouth. "We're going to have to make this quick," he said quickly. "I don't have much time."

Then he broke away and stood from the bed, your legs falling on the mattress as you watched him take off his tank top and jeans. You followed suit and begun to undo the buttons of his plaid shirt.

He patted one of your hands with his. "Stop that," he muttered. Then he removed your panties and tossed them away.

You watched as he knelt down before your bed. He was just wearing his underwear, his cock so hard that it was pressing against the dark fabric. Seeing him kneeling after you on your bedroom floor did something to you, it made you salivate, widen your eyes, it made your core throb with anticipation.

And before you knew what was coming, he yanked you down on your bedsheets grabbing you by your legs. So now your ass was by the border of the mattress, and he was between your thighs.

"Put your legs on my shoulders," he muttered softly.

When you did so, he ran a finger down your core, and now you held in a breath. "You have the prettiest pussy. Have I told you that?"

You felt your cheeks flush, not knowing what to answer really.

But he was wasting no time. Rolling up the shirt to your belly button, he placed his hands on your lower belly, pressing down gently at the same time he dipped his head down on your core.

Soon you forgot about not being loud. You rolled your eyes and arched your back, moaning loudly.

Starting by lapping on your folds, Seokmin moved his head up and down to lick you fully. The tip of his tongue traced a circle around your clit, before sucking on it. And as if testing what made you scream louder, he also pressed his tongue flatly on your clit and moved his head.

You felt your legs tense up, and grabbed onto the sheets of the bed, trying to wriggle your hips against his face desperately but the hands on your belly pressed down with more strength restrained you completely.

He repeated the same process, licking, sucking and teasing your clit. To whatever he did, you wouldn't stop moaning his name, pleading for him to not stop.

Until you realized that he was edging you. Whenever you felt closer to your release, he'd notice it and change to either just licking your folds, or sucking your clit, or tracing circles around it.

"Seokmin," you breathed. "Let me cum, please."

He just hummed in response, as if he were pondering on it while he continued teasing your cunt. His tongue came up to your clit, and as he did, his eyes landed on your face.

A groan came out through your gritted teeth and you arched your back, closing your eyes tightly. The tension in your core was almost unbearable.

"Seokmin," your fingers tangled in his soft copper hair. "Please. Just let me-ugghh fuck. Fuckfuckfuck."

He continued sucking on your clit, without changing in pace or movement, he sucked while moving his head up and down ever so slightly over and over, sending you over the edge.

Your orgasm hit you, hard. You felt your body tremble as it took you in erratic waves. It left you breathless and you had closed your eyes so tightly that when you opened them again, you had to blink a few times to regain focus.

Small kisses landed on your mound, and then made their way back to your belly. You felt exhausted, but still pulled him into a sloppy wet kiss when he climbed back on the bed. He motioned you to move back to the centre of the bed and as you did, he planted wet kisses on your face.

A chuckle was muffled by your mouth when your fingers tugged clumsily at the band of his underwear. He took them off and climbed back, his body hovering closely on top of you.

"Should I take the shirt off?" you asked, feeling that it was weird that he hadn't taken off of you yet.

"Leave it on," he muttered at the same time he leaned down and placed one elbow next to your head.

"Why?" your brow furrowed.

Your head was within his hand's reach, so he dug his fingers in your hair and placed a kiss on your chin.

"I want to fuck you in it."

You didn't think about it further. You knew it might be a possessive thing. But just as you liked the scratch marks on his back and the hickeys you had on your neck, you liked the idea of him fucking you wearing his shirt.

"Is that okay?" he asked in a soft tone.

"Yeah," your brow furrowed. "I'm okay with everything you give me."

A satisfied smile appeared on his face. It shocked you a little that you even find it arousing to see him smile while having sex.

"You'll let me do anything to you?" he muttered, capturing your lips with his briefly.

"Anything," you nodded eagerly. You grabbed his cock with one hand and guided it to your core. Earning another soft chuckle from him. You thought he'd chastise you again about being impatient but he didn't say anything about it.

He didn't warn you this time, his cock was already aligned with your core so he just started sinking in. You pushed your knees back, lifting your feet from the mattress and thus angling your hips for him. He groaned and dropped his head on the crook of your neck.

Your hands held onto his naked shoulders as his hips dipped in a few shallow thrusts and you stopped biting your lip when he was fully inside you.

"God," you whimpered. "So fucking big."

He had a light smile on his lips when he found your lips to give you a few tentative kisses. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," you breathed and pointed a finger at him. "Just don't edge me this time."

He started thrusting on you without any warning again. "Don't be a tease, then," he placed a chaste kiss on your lower lip. "Can you do that?"

His thrusts landed so deep inside you that you let out a cry. "Yes," you replied without much thinking.

"Yes, what?" he muttered while grazing his teeth across your chin.

"I won't be a tease," you said as you let out a strangled moan when his thrusts became more unrestrained, slamming on you.

"Good girl," he whispered before his lips slid in yours.

The room flooded with the sounds of skin slapping together along with your loud moans that slowly would turn into gasps.

Seokmin watched you intently. There was something in his eyes, you couldn't quite tell what it was. But you thought that he was tense and you concluded that he was probably trying to get this done quickly.

You moved your hands to cup his face. The sleeves of his shirt were so long that covered your arms up to your knuckles. You pulled him into a hot kiss of teeth clashing and groans from both you and him.

"God," you sighed when you pulled your head back to the bed, feeling your body sink into a wave of pleasure.

Seokmin dropped his head next to yours, his face burying in your hair lying in the crook of your neck. You could hear his strangled low moans in your ear.

"You feel so good, baby," he muttered with a tense voice.

You nibbled at the soft skin of his shoulder, caressing his back over the scratch marks you'd left the previous night. Seokmin was breathing harder on your neck, and you were tempted to tell him to just let go. But then he pulled out, his hips retracting from your fully.

A shiver ran down your spine at the loss of warmth and him inside you. But you didn't move, didn't touch him. With a groan, he visibly shuddered and waited for a few seconds.

Before you could say something, he lifted his head from the crook of your neck, and deposited open mouthed kisses on your lips. "Turn around, baby," he muttered in a strangled voice.

Seokmin sat back on his heels and when you did as he asked, he grabbed your hips with his hands, propping you up on your elbows and knees on the bed. You squealed at the roughness with which he grabbed you, but you didn't complain. You liked it.

Feeling his hands move from your hips to your lower back made you angle yourself in anticipation. Moving the fabric of his shirt up, he pressed a hand gently on your back before he eased himself in. You moaned loudly at the feeling of having him deeper in you and you heard him hiss.

His hands moved from your back and he placed them on the bed, soon you felt his back on yours as he pounded his hips against your backside hard enough you knew it would leave bruises. You heard his breath hitched next to your ear and then he groaned.

"Seokmin," you whined and shut your eyes tightly, trying to savour the feeling of him being inside you as much as you could.

Seokmin was panting behind you between the small kisses he left on the back of your neck. "Cum for me, baby," he whispered.

You slid a hand between your thighs, your fingers rubbing your clit to reach your release faster. Suddenly you let your face bury on the pillow, thus angling your hips towards him even more, which earned a groan from him. It only took a couple of thrusts from him to achieve what he asked.

The pillow muffled the loud sounds that were coming out of your mouth, and your hand grabbed at the corners of it while the other rubbed your clit sloppily.

The orgasm shook your body so hard, it had you squirming and grabbing at the sheets until you were reduced to strangled sounds and panting.

"Fuck," he groaned behind you and hearing his voice so taut in pleasure made your body respond with a shiver.

Then his hands were on your hips again, his thrusts became shallow and fast as he rolled the shirt up your back uncovering it completely and before you knew it, he pulled out. A soft groan resounded behind you when warm cum landed on your ass and lower back.

You felt your skin prickle at the sensation of his cum on your back. But you waited, trying not to move but your limbs were shaking, breathing loudly against your pillow.

"Don't move. I'm going to get something to clean you up," Seokmin said climbing off the bed.

Soon he was returning to clean your back. "Done," he muttered and patted you in the ass lightly, making you yelp in surprise.

Slowly, you let your body drop on the bed sheets, limbs shaking badly, panting loud enough to make you feel embarrassed. You rolled over and thought for a moment that Seokmin would lie next to you to catch his breath with you.

But he just leaned towards you to kiss your forehead, your cheek and then your lips. "You're always so good to me, baby," he muttered.

A warm feeling overwhelmed you. Your skin was bumpy from a mix of the frenzy and from Seokmin's warm compliment.

"I thought you were going to be quick," your voice was hoarse when you spoke again as he made his way out of your bedroom.

"Are you complaining?" he called back, and you could imagine he was smiling.

"No," you mumbled, but he was out of earshot.

You heard the shower running and you groaned.

"Come on. Let's get cleaned up," you heard him say and before you could move, he was taking you in his arms.

"Oh my god," you whined. "I can get there on my own."

You opened your eyes to see him smiling. "Let me take care of you," he mumbled as he set you down on the bathroom floor. "Arms up."

His shirt came off your body easily. And then you were standing under the stream of water.

"Was that okay? Was I too hard?" he asked as soon as he joined you in the shower.

"I'm fine. I like it," you hummed.

"Like what?" he cocked his head to the side.

"When you're a bit rough with me," you muttered, feeling a bit embarrassed.

He pressed his lips in a smile, showing his small dimple under the side of his mouth. "I know. I heard. Pretty sure your neighbours heard, too."

A hand landed on his chest, hitting him softly. "Shut up, Seokmin," you laughed.

"I like that you're loud," he shrugged.

"I know," you quipped. "I also noticed."

Grinning, he rolled his eyes and continued washing his body. He was lifting his arms up to wash his hair, and you saw him as the water ran down on his face with his eyes closed, his mouth parted a bit when he tilted his head back towards the stream of water.

The sunlight that came from the small window up in the bathroom clashed with the stream of water, thus painting a rainbow between Seokmin and you.

Your stomach twisted a bit.

When you returned to your bedroom, Seokmin was already half dressed. A travel toothbrush which he kept on his backpack he took for rehearsals, was hanging on his mouth.

He raised a hand at you and you threw his plaid shirt at him, which he caught gracefully and quickly put on. Then he went back to the bathroom to rinse his mouth.

"You should bring some of your clothes," you suggested when he came back to your bedroom.

Seokmin lifted his head to see you, then averted his gaze with a furrowed brow. "Uh..."

"If you want, I mean," you shrugged. "I don't mind. Plus, it could save you the effort for next time, y'know?"

"Sure, I'll keep it in mind," he replied, but there was something in his tone that wasn't really convincing. You decided not to push it.

He took his things from the nightstand and walked up to you.

"Sorry, I have to go. I'm already late."

You were about to reply to him that you were okay with his abrupt leave, but then he planted a kiss goodbye on your mouth. It was so quick that it made you stutter, and you almost assumed that Seokmin didn't initially mean to do that when you saw his alarmed eyes and quickly left your room.

It was fast, but it showed a lot of intimacy to you. Seokmin didn't normally kiss you outside sex. He only did it whenever you acted like a fake couple.

"Bye," you mumbled, but the door of your apartment was already slamming shut.

You sat on the edge of your bed, absentmindedly touching your lips with your fingers when your phone buzzed. In the back of your mind, you thought that you might have earned a noise complaint from your neighbours.

But looking at the screen, you groaned.

It was a text message from Seungkwan, you had stood him up.

A noise complaint would've been better.

"Are you there?" Seungkwan asked, pulling you out of your train of thought.

"Uh, yeah. Sorry. What were you saying?" you mumbled. Seungkwan had already finished eating his food. You were barely halfway through.

"I said," he was looking at something at his phone screen. "Are you going to be at Minghao's dinner party this saturday?"

"Yes, I think I can make it," you replied. "Maybe I can ask Jae to cover me."

He shook his head. "He's already covering me."

"Umm, I'll ask around, but I'll be there."

"Good. Now, can we go?" he set his phone down and looked at you. "We're going to be late for our shift. And you take forever to finish your food."

"Okay, okay, let's go. But we're even, right?"

Seungkwan rolled his eyes, but couldn't help but break into a smile.

The hickeys on your neck had all healed. You had been concealing them, either with makeup or by wearing turtlenecks and scarves. Given the demands of your profession, where you had to protect your vocal cords by keeping your chest covered, nobody really asked about the extra coverage.

But as you looked in the mirror, you didn't find any trace Seokmin's lips on your skin anymore. You decided to wear a black dress to Minghao's dinner party. According to the invitation details, he wanted everyone to wear something fancy.

So that's what you did. You thought the dress was on par with the intent of the night, and you imagined that it was something Minghao would approve.

It was semi long, it didn't show too much but it flattered your body in the best way possible. You paired it jewellery and red details on your makeup.

The style of the dress left her neckline and collar bones exposed, so you felt a little relieved that you didn't have to cover hickeys for tonight. It saved you some time.

It has been over a week since you last saw Seokmin. You two were busy anyway so you didn't think much of it. But you missed him. You found yourself anticipating the next time you saw each other.

In addition to the excitement, you were surprisingly in a good mood. You even noticed some positive changes in your daily routine; you started exercising more regularly and reconnecting with friends you had drifted away from during the toughest days after your breakup.

You even purchased a few pieces of furniture for your apartment to give it a cosier, more lived-in feel that truly reflected that you enjoyed living there alone. Because, truthfully, you did.

A buzz came from your bedroom, and you went to investigate that your phone had a few new messages from Seokmin.

[06:12 PM] seokminnie: noddle [06:12 PM] seokminnie: i'm picking you up at 7 [06:12 PM] seokminnie: for hao's party [06:12 PM] seokminnie: be ready :)

You couldn't help but smile at the nickname he used for you. Noodle. He was the only one who still called you that since university. Over time, you had developed a love-hate relationship with the nickname, but hearing it from him, you couldn't bring yourself to complain anymore.

[06:13 PM] you: okidoki :) [06:13 PM] seokminnie: okidoki? [06:13 PM] seokminnie: god you're such a dork [06:13 PM] you: shut up you like me either way :P

That was the end of your conversation so far.

You were already bubbling with anticipation to meet him once more. You were eager to show him the new additions you'd made to your apartment and to share the news that you were in the final auditions for another play.

While there wasn't any official confirmation about the role yet, you felt optimistic. You were putting your best effort into it, and for the first time, you felt that even if you didn't secure it, you would be okay. After all, you had your sights set on other projects too.

There was a knock on your door and since you were sitting in the kitchen, you ran to get it in two seconds.

Seokmin was standing there. Your eyes absorbed everything about him. His copper hair was parted slightly, his bangs brushing his eyebrows a little. He looked between laid back and still fitting for the night; black jeans, white shirt and a denim jacket.

"Hiii," you chanted.

He blinked, a grin appearing on his lips. "Hi there," he muttered.

Your stomach twisted a bit and before anything else was said you moved aside to let him in.

"Just let me get my bag and we can go," you grabbed your phone and your bag from the kitchen counter.

"Aren't you forgetting your shoes, noodle?" you hear him call.

"Oh, yes!" you laughed.

You had your shoes ready by the entrance of your apartment, and while putting them on, Seokmin held out a hand for you for you to remain on your feet.

"Thanks," you smiled at him.

"Ready?"

"Yeah," you breathed, somehow feeling agitated.

"Let's go," he smiled sweetly again and for a moment you fought the impulse of pulling him to your lips.

"Okidoki," you said promptly and followed him out your apartment and locked the door.

"Dork," he laughed.

You chuckled and when you both stepped into the elevator, you felt your mouth go dry. Suddenly you felt nervous to be in such an enclosed space with him.

But he was looking at his phone distractively.

The ride there was... odd. Not what you had expected entirely. He didn't say much and was too busy looking at his phone so you decided you didn't want to pry.

When you got there you saw some familiar faces outside the fancy restaurant. The guests were gathering outside the door, queueing to get their names and id's checked before entry.

Everyone looked elegant. When you saw some girls dressed in the same manner and style you were wearing you felt relieved, since you were doubting on being too much or not quite so.

You turned to Seokmin, who was just putting his phone on the pocket of his jeans and when he lifted his head to see you, he smiled softly. He caught up with you and as he did so, your hands touched for a moment.

You thought it was natural to just grab his hand, locking your fingers in his.

"Sorry. I was fixing an appointment for the costume fitting," he muttered, looking at the ground.

"For a moment there I thought you might be fake cheating on me," you smiled, but as soon as you blurted out the words, your heart dropped. Too far.

"You think I'd do something so horrible?" he asked dramatically, putting his free hand on his chest.

You smiled in relief. "Well, we haven't really talked about it. I don't know, you might want to start seeing someone for real," you shrugged.

His brow furrowed. "What if I don't?" he mused. "What if I enjoy being your fake boyfriend?"

"Then you're in luck because I enjoy you as my fake boyfriend too. It's fun," you smiled up at him.

You expected to see him smile, but instead he looked deep in thought.

As you joined the queue, the grip on your hand tightened gently. And you knew why. Your ex was in the queue, with a new girl wrapped in his arm. This girl you had never seen before, it wasn't the same girl he cheated on you with.

Your ex's eyes went through the crowd and your eyes met.

Seokmin was behind you, so he let go of your hand but his arms were encircling you from behind. A soft kiss landed on your temple and you shivered at the feeling of him so close to you.

"Are you okay?" he asked on your ear.

You turned your head to see him and your hands rested on top of his. "I'm okay," you reassured him with a smile.

The proximity had startled you for a second, but you enjoyed this. His warmth, the scent of his clothes and skin.

His sweet brown eyes searched your face. "You look beautiful," he mumbled.

Not knowing what to reply, you lifted a hand to cup his cheek and reached for his lips. The kiss was tender, so slow that you felt him sigh on your lips, a shiver went down your spine.

"Ugh, come on! Get a move on, you lovebirds," an annoyed voice protested behind you.

It was Soonyoung. When you turned around you saw him beaming at you, he lifted a hand in the air and waved frantically at you. You smiled and waved back in the same manner.

"Come on, we're next," Seokmin stopped hugging you and pulled your hand in his again.

The table you were taken to was located in a secluded room within the fancy restaurant. You knew that Minghao had sold a few paintings to this restaurant the moment you were shown inside.

The place was dimly lit in soft orange hues and the tables were adorned with a trailed of roses and candles. In the room there was a wall fountain in the room, the water running continuously made a soft background noise paired with the live jazz show.

You strolled to the side of the room where Minghao was greeting his guests with a shy smile on his face. When he saw you he pulled you into a hug.

"Birthday boy," you chanted into the hug.

"I'm glad you're here," he said at the same time he patted you in your head.

"I brought you something," you said and unfasten your tiny purse.

You heard him giggle shyly. "You shouldn't have," he muttered but at the same time he was bouncing on his heels in anticipation.

His giggles became more bubbly when you pulled a black box the size of the palm of your hand and handed it to him. His eyes beamed at you and back to the box.

"What's this?" his lithe careful fingers took it from your hand and he looked up to find your eyes. "Can I open it now?"

"Course," you shrugged with an excited smile. "It's your birthday."

"Hehe," he chuckled in a tiny voice and opened the box to find a super tiny tea set.

You watched Minghao's mouth part a little and slowly turn into a child-like smile. His fingertips brushed over the tiny blue and white cups and teapot.

"I love it," he giggled again, "thank you."

Then he tucked you into a hug again and you returned the hug.

"I loved it so much that it makes me want to forgive you for fucking in my dressing room," he mentioned with a laugh.

Your cheeks flushed and he was patting your head and shuffling your hair teasingly.

"Y-you know? How?" your voice was high now.

He look straight in your eyes with a devilish smile. "Nothing gets passed me."

"Oh my god. I'm so sorry," you groaned covering your face with your hands. But your friend was laughing cheekily.

Minghao had carefully assigned seats for everyone to get to know each other. You were assigned a seat next to Soonyoung; which didn't make sense to you until Jeonghan took the seat to your left. You didn't know each other well, besides from casual meetings for work.

Jeonghan was a sweet guy. He was mostly quiet but soft spoken at first, but he was eager to get to know you and he told you just that.

"Ah, it's so good to finally get to know you," he said when he had drank more and started to loosen up a bit. "You know how hard it is to get to talk to you?"

"What do you mean?" you laughed, feeling that Jeonghan was doing a bit.

"You're the stellar this season and I don't even know you," he chuckled as he spoke. "That bothers me. I want to meet everyone in the company."

"Why is that?" you frowned. It was weird that a director wanted to get to know everyone. Everyone you had worked with before Jeonghan could do with a first name basis with the cast and crew. Some not even that.

"I like to think of the company like a big family," he shrugged as he sat back. "I know that it might not be practical but who knows really. So far it's working for me."

"Do you act too or you're just in the management?" you asked, genuinely curious.

"Oh, no. Not at all," he chuckled again. "I'm just interested in management and production. The acting part, props, staff, lighting and such is totally yours. I just revise projects, budget, plan and put the money."

"That sounds... like a lot of work," you looked up at him.

His short black hair covered half of his forehead. He looked a little bit tipsy, his heavy lidded eyes were turning lazier as you spoke, but he raised a soft smile.

"I enjoy it," he nodded with a grin. "And I get to make great friends, so best job ever."

Jeonghan excused himself and left the seat momentarily, thus leaving you without your new partner for the dinner.

You looked at the people sitting at the table. There were at least eighteen people sitting there. Most you knew and a few you didn't at all. Seokmin was sitting just across you, next to two actresses you knew.

He was talking to the girl to his right, while the other was laughing with Seungkwan. While Seokmin listened to the girl, he would casually nod and reply to her politely. Then you remembered that he tended to be shy on social reunions like these and that made you smile.

"Hey, why haven't you replied to my messages?" Soonyoung elbowed you.

You turned to look at him pout. "Sorry, Hoshi. Been busy," you patted his blond head.

"I hate it when you leave me on read," he continued to pout.

"I don't remember what you texted," you said, pursing your lips while you tried to remember.

"I asked you if you were in the final auditions yet," he groaned.

"Ah, yes that's right," you nodded. "And yes. You?"

He scratched his blond head. "Uhh, me too. But I'm not too confident," he shrugged.

Your brow furrowed. "Why?"

He eyed across the table before leaning towards you. "What if we both get the role? I'd have to kiss you," he hissed with a strained look on his face.

"Really?" you asked in disbelief. "That's why you don't want the role? I feel offended," you laughed.

He nodded his head shortly. "I don't wanna kiss my best friend's girl. Nuh-uh. That's fucked up."

Your smile faded a bit. "Right. That might be awkward."

Soonyoung tilted his head to the side, still speaking in a hush tone. "Can you imagine that? What will I say at your wedding feast?"

That made you almost choke on your drink.

"Whoa, hold on tiger," you tried to laugh. "There's no wedding."

"Not yet," his eyes widened a bit and he pushed his lower lip out.

As if planned, you both glanced across the table. Seokmin was resting his head on his hand, elbow on the table listening to the girl next to him with a polite smile.

"I think you've had too much to drink, my friend," you chuckled and patted his reddened cheek softly.

"I'm not drunk," he shook his head and then rolled his eyes. "Well, just a bit tipsy but I'm for real when I tell you that I've always rooted for you guys."

"What do you mean?" you asked carefully.

"You're my best friends," he shrugged again. "And I've always been aware of how Dk looks at you and I'm not dumb. I know how love looks like."

"Love." you stuttered.

When Soonyoung sent a weird look, then you knew you had to compose yourself and remain on your act.

"Well, you both were always in your own little world to notice," he explained and leaned back on his chair. "But I'm happy that you're together now."

Trying to keep your cool as best as you possibly could, you smiled at him. And it was enough for Soonyoung because he was already speaking to the other person next to him.

Bewildered, your eyes fell on Seokmin. As if he knew you were about to look his way, his eyes met yours. His smile was gentle and blinked slowly your way and you managed a small smile.

When the dinner was over, someone had already organized an after party. Minghao wasn't at all prepared for an after party but didn't complained.

As you walked out of the restaurant, the air of the cold night had grown cruller. You hissed at it and your hands covered your face.

"Here," Seokmin mumbled and slipped his warm denim jacket on your shoulders.

"Thanks," you beamed at him, sinking your arms inside the warm sleeves. His scent coming from his jacket flooded your senses.

"No problem," his hand took your chin briefly, a warm smile on his face.

You resumed walking at his side, following your friends towards the after party. Then a hand slipped between yours almost as if it were second nature. You intertwined your fingers with his, enjoying the warm sensation that flooded inside you.

"D'you want to go to the after party?" Seokmin asked. "Apparently everyone is going."

"Uh... sure. Why not," you shrugged. "Do you?"

"Is there something wrong?" he asked suddenly, reading your face.

"No," you blurted a bit too quickly. "Everything's fine. Why?"

He pointed a finger to your face. "Your mouth is doing that thing it does when something is bothering you."

You huffed. "And what is that?"

Seokmin pursed his lips and did an impression of you chewing the inside of your mouth. "You do it every time something's wrong."

"Really?"

"I've noticed," he put in simply. "We've known each other for years, it's hard to not pick up on some stuff."

"Huh."

"Are you guys coming?" Soonyoung asked while passing you and Seokmin on the sidewalk.

"We'll meet you there," Seokmin nodded with a nod of his head.

"Don't bail on me, you two. I need my drinking partner!" he scolded in a slurred tone, his drunken face so flushed it made him look cute.

You were the drinking partner in question. It was a thing you had while in uni. Whenever they dragged you to a party and you played any drinking game, somehow you ended up worse than them. So you earned the said designated title.

"We don't have to go if you don't want to," Seokmin suggested, still thinking that you were upset by something.

"I want to go," you reassured him. "I just don't think I can drink too much tonight."

"Then don't. I'll help you win, or not drink. Whatever comes to it," he pressed his lips in a smile.

Then he gently clasped your hand with his and started walking together to catch up to Soonyoung.

"Okiedokie," you mumbled, knowing it would make him smile.

"Such a dork," he sighed.

The after party was in a gallery art that was owned by one of Minghao's friends. It was down a street in between two restaurants that had already closed.

The gallery was spacious, pale grey concrete floors and walls that made it feel like a liminal space. The walls were covered by large murals and paintings and in the back there was a large space where someone was drawing some foldable chairs from a small closet.

Soon, more and more people started to show up, you even saw some faces that weren't at the dinner. Someone had brought sound equipment, and the art gallery turned into an artful improvised nightclub.

Seungkwan crossed the space, walking among the crowd towards you and pointed a finger to you. "There you are! I want to introduce you to a friend, come."

He promptly took the hand and the last thing you saw before breaking away from your fake boyfriend was his warm smile and him disappearing into the crowd with Jeonghan and Soonyoung.

You let your best friend drag you through the mass of unknown faces. He introduced you to a friend called Jun. The reason Seungkwan wanted you to meet his friend was because Jun was a tv actor and you kind of always been interested in acting for tv projects, so a conversation with the shy actor ensued.

Jun was one of the most beautiful individual's you've ever met. His red wine coloured hair made a shocking contrast with his sweet kind smile. He was sitting on top of a big wooden crate that quite possibly had paintings inside. But he seemed to not pay too much attention to it, he even invited you to sit beside him.

However, no matter how interested you were in the conversation, your eyes darted back were you last saw Seokmin, searching for him in the sea of faces.

You exchanged contacts with Jun, promising to keep in contact with him if you ever want to meet up and even meet his agent. It was an interesting opportunity, too promising to pass up.

The bellowing, drunken voice of Soonyoung made you look into the crowd, and beside your drunk friend you found Seokmin, his hands on his knees, laughing silly at something drunk Soonyoung was saying.

You couldn't help but smile at the sight of Seokmin laughing so hard he had to crouch down, hands on his knees, trying to compose himself.

"That's your boyfriend, isn't it?" Jun asked, since everyone was looking at his direction.

"Yeah," you muttered simply. It made an effect on your body whenever you called him your boyfriend. Even if it wasn't exactly that.

"Go to him," he pointed with his nose towards Seokmin. "I know you don't want to be here."

Your brows furrowed. "I'm sorry," you saw him smile as you left Seungkwan's friends. "I'll stay in touch, though."

Jun raised a hand, waving you goodbye as you made your way to where Seokmin was with Jeonghan and Soonyoung. They were playing some silly game in which they had to fake scream in pain, but Soonyoung was so drunk that couldn't make sense of his own words.

"Alright, big boy," Jeonghan said, pulling a chair in front of Soonyoung. "Enough alcohol for you."

Soonyoung was already red in the face, but if you could give him anything, he was an obedient drunk.

"Hey, that's my drinking partner," Soonyoung mumbled, pointing a weak finger at you as his head landed on the table.

"What did you do to him?" you asked.

"He lost the game three times in a row," Seokmin explained with a shrug.

"I'm taking him home," Jeonghan patted the drunken head resting on the table once and went outside to get his car.

"Thanks," you crouched to level your eyes with your friend. He smiled, making the cheek that was pressed to the table bulge.

"'m fine," he mumbled. And closed his eyes, within seconds he had already fallen asleep.

Seokmin was behind you when you stood up, a hand sneaking on your lower back. "Well if it's any consolation, you won't have to drink tonight."

"Yeah, lucky me," you smiled, turning to him so that your body was facing his.

"Who did Seungkwan want you to meet?" he asked.

"A tv actor. Told me to meet up with his agent to talk auditions," you told him.

"Oh?" he raised an eyebrow. "Sounds like an interesting opportunity. Who is he?"

You subtly gestured toward Jun, who remained perched like a model on a large wooden crate, even the lights on him appeared to be lighting him up like a piece of art in the gallery.

"We exchanged numbers to meet someday," you mentioned casually.

"You did?" he shifted his gaze from the charming actor to study your face.

Your eyes narrowed. "Yeah. What's wrong?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. Just curious."

A smile played on your lips. "Are you…"

His brow furrowed slightly. "What?"

"Jealous?"

He let out a chuckle, attempting to mask his surprise. "Jealous? Why would I be?"

You tilted your head, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe because you've been showing a possessive streak lately?"

His expression softened, and the hand on your lower back pressed on you a little. "What if I did feel a little jealous?"

A warmth rushed through your body, you felt it pulse in your chest.

You leaned into his touch, savouring the warmth of his hand on your back. "Well, then I might have to make it up to you somehow," you teased, a playful glint in your eyes.

He smiled, a mixture of playfulness and curiosity. "Oh, yeah? And how will that be?"

"Why don't you find out?" you replied coyly, and you stood on your tiptoes, letting the hand on your back go a little lower on the small of your back.

Curious fingers gingerly and discreetly explored the small of your back and ass. Seokmin understood immediately, his alarmed eyes stopping on yours. "You're not wearing underwear." he muttered.

A nervous laugh bubbled up in your chest as you nodded with your head.

His free hand took you by your jaw, pulling you into a rushed kiss. "You'll be the death of me," he groaned.

He dragged you through the dense crowd and led you out the dimly lit art gallery. You walked through a small door and found yourself in a deserted, dark alley. A tall ceramic pot with a dried plant was the only feature in the secluded area.

Seokmin was already pinning you against a wall, leaning his head down to find your lips. You had already decided to ignore all your rational thinking and melted into his lips.

"We're gonna have to be quick," he muttered, his lips brushing yours before sinking down on them again.

"I don't trust your definition of quick," you whispered, your hands slipping behind his neck to drag him into another wet kiss.

"For real this time," he smirked.

"I've never been fucked against a wall," you blurted out when your hand reached for the belt in his pants.

"Just hold onto me. I'll do the work," he mumbled and his breath hitched when he felt your fingers on his skin when you buried your hand beneath his underwear, grabbing his already hardened cock. "Your hands are cold."

"Sorry," you whispered, your hand feeling the soft skin of his length, the tip of his cock was already wet in precum when you rubbed your thumb across it, smearing the wetness around his cockhead.

"Lean against the wall. I'm going to lift you up," he muttered and you did what he said.

Seokmin reached down at your legs under the skirt of your dress and he swiftly lifted your body up, grabbing your ass in his hands. You pulled your skirt to your hips, giving him space to properly slot himself between your thighs.

Your hand snuck between his body and yours, finding his cock again with your fingers and led it to your core. Watching his face intently, you played a little with his cockhead, dragging it across your wet folds. A groan reverberated through his gritted teeth.

"You're soaking wet, baby," he said, dropping his forehead on yours when he felt you. "Does making me jealous turn you on?"

"You turn me on," you mumbled. "I missed you, Seokmin. It's been days since we last fucked."

The squelching sound coming from you playing with his cock against your entrance only made you more aroused. You bit your lip down before aligning his cockhead to your entrance, and looked at Seokmin's eyes.

"Are you sure you can take me like this?" he whispered.

You nodded, feeling so eager that you couldn't breathe. "I'm sure."

But soon you understand what the really meant. He started to ease himself inside you with shallow thrusts, stretching your tight core open so slowly, but so deliciously your eyes screw shut, making you see stars.

Normally when you had sex with him, he would play with your core with his fingers before fucking you. But now he went in without stretching you beforehand, and it had been days since you last had him inside you.

Your breath hitched at the sharp pain, grabbing him by the shoulders of his shirt and your fingers twisted to resist the pain as he was still sinking his length inside you. It was a bit painful, but you found out that your body liked it. The mere thought of him stretching your core, having him raw aroused you even more.

"You told me you could take me," he muttered in a hushed tone. "D'you want to stop?"

"No," you mumbled quickly and reached for his lips. "Keep going, please."

Your hands were clinging at his shoulders, fingers twitching at the exquisite feeling of having him inside you. His hips came to a stop, and you could feel that he had sheathed himself completely inside you.

This could drive you crazy. Him being so closely connected to your body that you could feel the warmth of him, you could feel his cock throbbing inside you as he moved in a slow pace, still adjusting to your body.

"Are you okay, baby?" he mumbled.

You muffled a whimper biting down your lip at the sound of his voice calling you that.

"I'm okay," you replied, feeling out of breath but in plain ecstasy.

His hips started moving, not caring about being slow or patient and you silently thanked him for it. He was thrusting in you so fast that there was barely any chance to capture his lips in yours so you resorted to see his face as he fucked you into the wall.

Your hands moved daintily from the shoulders of his shirt to his neck. It was already covered in a light layer of sweat, but his hips didn't faltered, thrusting inside you so deep that you felt like you were impaling yourself in his cock.

You stiffened a moan when he found a rhythm that hit your core so deliciously you felt like you had to cum soon.

"Quiet, baby," he whispered when he heard you. He leaned down and pressed a quick tender kiss on your lips, still rutting his hips against yours.

Seokmin's eyes were focused on your face, you could tell he was attentive to the faces you made whenever he'd hit the golden spot inside you. Then, one of your hands slid between your bodies, your eyebrows furrowed with tension as you managed to rub your clit, feeling so close to the release your body was building up, he smiled.

"Aw baby, are you going to cum?" he whispered.

The hand that was still clinging to him clenched at the hem of his shirt and felt your body tense up and you could savour your release. You nodded, "'m so close, babe," you whimpered.

Seokmin groaned as your walls clamped erratically around his cock, a warm wet sensation slipped where your bodies connected. You knew you were creaming on his cock and the thought of it sent you over the edge.

You came, hard enough to shake on his arms and whimper quietly his name. It took everything you had to not scream, tears brimming up in the corners of your eyes as your body went limp under the waves of bliss consuming you.

"Fuck, baby," he muttered on your lips, and you knew he was close too.

As his hips were faltering, you wrapped your legs around his hips. "No, don't pull out," you muttered wildly. A groan was muffled by your mouth as he came inside you, pumping warm ropes of cum deep inside you.

His hips came to a stop, his cock still buried deep inside your core. Now that he had stilled, you reached to kiss his lips fervently, still feeling under the craze of your orgasm.

Seokmin pulled his head back, breaking the kiss with a gasp from you.

"Babe?" he repeated, his brow deeply furrowed.

Your heart stilled.

"You don't like it?" you asked innocently. "I won't use it again."

He didn't really give an answer. He just blinked slowly, his gaze drawing away from your face and into the night sky. "You didn't let me pull out."

"I missed you," you replied with a small voice.

He lowered his eyes to find yours. "You missed me that much?" he muttered, his lips rose in a downturned smile. "Did you miss my cock so much that you needed me to fuck you in a dark alley?"

"I did," you breathed, feeling your blood rush to your cheeks. "It's all I could think of; you inside me, cumming in me."

He was breathing softly against your lips, his forehead sweaty as he gently rested it against yours. "Don't," he whispered. "Don't do that."

"Do what?"

He shook his head slightly, his forehead still on yours. "Saying you missed me. Making me feel jealous. Calling me babe. Fucks with my head."

"Sorry," you heard yourself say. "I..."

You wanted to tell him that you did miss him. Not just the sex. But you couldn't quite bring yourself to say it.

You waited for a long second, his breathing was not slowing down and his forearms were starting to shake a little. He put you back on the floor, not quite letting you go until you could stand on your own.

You leaned against the wall as you watched him fix his pants quietly, his belt hanging lose as he looked at you.

"Do you have your panties?" he asked.

You nodded. "Yeah," your fingers dug at your tiny purse and you pulled a clean black thong.

He took it from your hand and knelt down before you, patting on your ankle for you to lift it up the ground and then the next. Then he slid your underwear up your legs, fixing the edges so they wouldn't bump on your dress.

"Thanks," you whispered.

"I'm going to take you home now, okay?" he muttered, he was serious now. Something you rarely saw on him.

"Kay," you whispered.

Taking your hand in his, he led you through the alley and to the street. Soon you realized that you were ten minutes away from your apartment building and Seokmin was leading you back.

He was too quiet, dangerously quiet you'd say. And you didn't know how to make him talk about what kept him this quiet. So you stayed silent too because you didn't know what to say.

"Are you... are you staying tonight?" you asked when you got to your apartment door and opened it for him.

He leaned his head against your doorframe, looking at you as if he didn't know what to do with you.

"I just wanted to get you home," he mumbled. "I'll be going now."

Your brow furrowed, feeling a morose pain sweep in your chest. A pain you knew too well.

"What's wrong?" you asked, in a small voice.

"We'll talk tomorrow, okay?" he said softly, a sad, tired look on his face.

You felt your knees wobble a bit. "We can talk now," you suggested, already feeling what would come next.

Seokmin sighed and stepped inside your apartment, closing the door behind him.

You slowly removed his jacket and handed it to him. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Of course not," he replied with a reassuring tone. He took his jacket and put it on and you noticed the expression on his face was conflicted.

You bit the inside of your cheek, your heart beating so hard against your chest you thought it might tell on you. Seokmin approached in your living room, and now you could see him under the light of the lamps.

"I don't think I can keep up with this," he admitted.

Your heart felt heavy, as if it were being squeezed in a tight fist.

"Why? What changed?" you murmured.

"I broke our promise," he sighed heavily.

A burning sense of fear crippled you. Everything was happening too fast for you to cope or understand. But you knew that you had to face it.

"The more we fuck around the more I realise that it's not just the sex what I want anymore," Seokmin continued. "I know I promised this wouldn't happen, but it did. And I'm not sure how much longer I can take this fake dating, because I want more... I want to be with you."

A heavy silence hung in the air, and you struggled to find the right words to respond. After a moment, you managed to say, "I didn't think this would happen so soon."

He nodded, his eyes darkened with a mix of regret and longing. "I understand if you need space. I just had to be honest with you."

You inhaled deeply, attempting to calm your aching heart. "I'm not ready. Not yet."

You could see the internal struggle in his eyes, the turmoil of emotions he'd been dealing with. And he could probably see the same in your eyes.

"I know," he finally said, his voice tense with defeat.

Of course he knew. He was your best friend. He was there when you were broken after finding out your ex had cheated on you. He understood everything you had gone through to move on. He would know if you're ready to love again.

"But we can work it out," you murmured, your eyes suddenly filling with tears. "I want us to."

His gaze softened, and he reached out to wipe away a tear that had escaped down your cheek. "I don't want to rush you. I'll be patient."

Your voice trembled as you replied, "I just need time."

He pulled you into a tight hug, pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead. "I'll give you all the time you need," he promised, his voice reassuring. "I'm not going anywhere."

As you both stood there, wrapped in the weight of the moment, the air felt heavy with unspoken words and a understanding. You hugged him close to your body, shaking with sobs, allowing yourself to bury your face in the warmth of his chest.

"I need to go now," he muttered with a heavy tone.

Your arms tensed around him. You heard him release a sigh, and knew he was smiling.

"Have a bath and go to bed," he instructed. "You'll feel better."

You didn't want him to leave. But when you finally forced yourself to let him go, he kissed your forehead sweetly before patting your head as he always did.

"I'll stay close, noodle. Don't worry," he muttered with a soft smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. Then he turned away and left quietly.

♡︎ a/n: i love dk sm! u-u i got a bit carried away with the angst i just love it hehe. if you liked reading this feel free to show it some love leaving a like, reblogging, commenting. k, bye! ( · ❛ ֊ ❛)

click here for part 4!!

#lee seokmin smut #svt smut #seventeen smut #lee dokyeom x reader #lee seokmin x reader #lee dokyeom fanfic #seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #seventeen fic #seventeen imagines #svt fic #svt dk x reader #hannieween #ff:backstage

263 notes · View notes

kivino · 1 year ago

Text

CLOSER || SLASHER!SIMON ‘GHOST’ RILEY X M!READER

my masterlist

ao3 link to this fic

Word counter – ~2.9k

Tags/Warnings – very much dead dove do not eat, dealing with dark topics, stalking, unhealthy obsession, kidnapping.

Summary – You hear various dark rumors from your colleagues and you don’t believe them, until there is one particular ghost looking you right in the eye.

A/n – Fair warning, I am not trying to romanticize all those things. Requested by the anon from this post. Not proofread, so i'm very sorry if there are any mistakes.

At first, you didn’t believe all the rumors about ghosts, ghouls, and serial killers scouring every corner of the town in the dark, scratching the brick walls and howling in the tight alleyways. Your coworkers who usually talked about that kind of stuff appeared like gossiping teenagers exchanging something they heard or saw. Whispering on their breaks over lunch, or in those hours when business in the little coffee shop you worked in was slow.

You thought their talks about some boogeyman hunting on the streets for new victims each night were silly at their best, and just distracting at their worst. You, coincidentally, were also usually the one working night shifts, taking over them after your female coworkers kept complaining about some creep waiting around until the end of the shift and scaring the crap out of them.

So, how could you not help your colleagues out in a dire situation like this? Those shifts paid more anyway, and you needed all the money you could get. And, to be completely honest, you enjoyed the night. The lack of annoying customers, who’d scream at you for getting their order wrong, not smiling or some other stupid bullshit (whatever it takes to get that glossy paper with the words “20% off”, right?) died down by the night, so it was a breeze. Of course, you’d have to clean up and prep so much stuff for the morning shift, but then again, it was better money. So you could do with stacking some cups and taking out the trash and so on. After closing, you’d walk out a bit tired, but still enjoying the fresh night air, that would knock out any insistent worry straight out of your mind.

And oh, what a fool you were for that.

Ghost wanted to laugh, really. It was very amusing to him when you’d bravely head out into the dark, back to your shitty rundown apartment complex, listening to your music in your silly little headphones and not paying enough attention. Not a fucking thought inside this handsome head sometimes. Just perfect. Ghost knew he liked you for a reason. Which, of course, your appearance wasn’t solely why he felt drawn to you like you were a damn magnet.

At first, he didn’t even notice you. Out and about, searching for any potential victims. Which became harder and harder each time he got bored and finished off the last one – their names fading from his memory as soon as the ringing from their strained, ear-splitting screams died down to a complete silence. They were borderline shrieks of wild, trapped animals that rang in his mind endlessly, day and night, echoes waking him from his restless dreams and lulling him back to sleep. Eyes snapped from figure to figure – searching, looking like a hound dog for something, someone that could satiate his hunger for blood.

Followed a potentially interesting target to a small, cozy-looking establishment. Tried to look around more, still not completely set on the decision to commit to them. But then he laid his eyes on you and felt that familiar buzz under his skin, the pleasant vibrations that spurred him on like a prized stallion during a race. His blood felt scorching hot in his own body, anticipation for the desired thrill of the hunt already boiling in his veins. That’s who he needed.

The huge man would follow you home with light, silent footsteps, uncharacteristic for his burly form. He would observe you from the dark corners of the forest, from between trees bunched together in thick, impenetrable layers. Ghost would come in during different times of the day, but wouldn’t ask for you, in fear of drawing too much attention – your coworkers looked like the types to run their mouths for fun, so he figured they would snitch on him to you. And that would just spoil all the fun, wouldn’t it? But then Ghost started feeling something he never thought he would. The more his eyes went over your form, over and over, like fingers picking at a bloody scab, or a tongue grazing gums where the tooth is missing, the more Ghost felt that ache poke needles through his skin, then change and transform into unfamiliar shapes and forms. Prickling on his insides, thorns gashing and bleeding his heart dry, his mind reeling at the mere sight of you in this stupid uniform, or just going about your business, and not knowing what kind of predator was following close behind in the shadows.

He craved more than your blood, your skin, and your smell on his knife, pooling between his fingers and onto the dirty floor of the basement. Etching scarlet lines into your sole being, slicing, cutting, and handling you like he would a piece of precious wood for his woodcarving projects. Ghost’s mind would go rampant with various images of you being with him. Not a victim, but a companion. A worthy one at that. The one Ghost deserves, with your presences intertwining until you two could not be separated from one another, grown together so deeply that you’d find parts of yourselves in each other wherever you’d look.

The only wish Ghost had was to be consumed by you wholly. And to consume you was a natural outcome of that. You’ll come around eventually. One way or another.

The images of his previous trophies resurfaced like thin, melting ice from fresh lake water. Each and every single one of them was an animal. In their life and their death. Scared but swift rabbits. Talkative crows that liked shiny things. Rabid hyenas that bared their teeth at him in a taunting grin. Gorgeous pheasants with their gentle coos. All of them so different, yet same in their dullness and lack of something Ghost was searching for in his prey.

You though, you were special. That’s why Ghost didn’t want to kill you, oh no. He wanted to keep you. All to himself. Lock you up like a wild bird in a golden, intricate cage and hear you sing lullabies and arias for him, and only him. Not for your stupid friends. Not for your idiot classmates. And not for your lazy ass coworkers. Only for him.

So naturally if he wanted this songbird to be his, he had to get to work. Simon was a man of his words and actions, but Ghost preferred to act, rather than talk. First things first – he had to prepare a “cage”. One where you won’t escape from. One that will keep you safe from any harm. But not from him. He’d never harm you, in a million years. Ghost had to rearrange a room in the basement for that. And while it took some time and care, his feelings only grew stronger, when he would move and carry around so much stuff he had piling up in that dusty room. Then he had to know your schedule by heart, to know when and where he’ll be able to finally get his hands on the beloved songbird. It turned out to be pretty easy, Ghost got it down in a week and everything was working out perfectly. Finally, he had to catch you. Which, he was working on right now.

He waited until the perfect moment came to strike, like a hunter he was. One chance, that’s all it is going to take. And you’ll be his. His gut stirred with anticipation and excitement, that familiar buzz intensifying with each second, he waited to finally start his pursuit while hiding in the darkness. If it was anyone else but you the chase would’ve been lethal. For you, he had to contain his strength. Balling his fists together, beaten and bloody under the rough fabric of his gloves, he could easily snap a neck or break some fingers with the sheer power contained inside of his body, trained and adapted into the perfect shape for his…line of work and “hobbies”. For your sake, Ghost will have to use less force, for once in a long time. You’re only worthy while you’re alive.

The whole shift you felt like something was wrong. That sudden gut feeling, along with impending doom and anxiety that ate away at you was overtaking slowly but surely. Every second ticking away on the digital clock near the register only stretched that unusual, weird feeling like something (you weren’t sure what) was going to happen to you. You even felt a bit of cold sweat pop up right on your forehead, and the worst thing is, you couldn’t even point out what exactly threw you off your usual rhythm. So, all you had left to do was try to pretend like there wasn’t a whole hurricane of worry and panic bubbling inside of you.

You felt like you could snap any minute now from how tense you were. Intuition wasn’t your best suit, but you could not ignore a gut feeling so strong that you felt like vomiting up your lunch each time you were left in silence, alone with your thoughts, that spun around a variety of outcomes where you ended up dead on the side of the road because you didn’t listen to that gnawing dread curled inside your gut.

And you should’ve, really.

Maybe then you wouldn’t have been in the position that you’re in right now. Your chest and throat hurt, cold air burning with every shallow and quick inhale, as you ran, as fast as you could, blood pulsing in your ears with increasing pressure. You were pretty sure your heart was about to jump out of your chest. If it wasn’t for your headphones running out of battery and you having to walk back without any music you wouldn’t have heard the quiet, rapidly approaching footsteps. You couldn’t see your pursuer, too focused on the road, or lack thereof in front of you.

Why did you think dipping into the dark grove at the first opportunity to lose the person who was following you was a good idea? Your feet stumbled over the thick roots that webbed the fresh, wet ground, moonlight barely managed to pierce through the thick layer of leaves overhead and it seemed like any animal in your close vicinity disappeared, with how eerily quiet everything was, safe for your heaving and wheezing, that easily gave away your position.

You’re scared, oh, you’re so fucking scared you could feel the way hairs all over your body stand up from the terror, unknown follower sparkling fear so primal your thoughts are reduced to barely a semblance of your usual self.

You could hear the crunch of the leaves under your shoes, vines, and branches smacking you, as you ram through them in your attempt to get away, to save yourself from whatever wild beast was chasing you, whose heavy breath you could almost feel on the nape of your neck. You were pretty sure your face got smacked by another thorny vine, this time delivering a harsh, stinging cut that made you wince. You didn’t slow down, however, adrenaline made you push yourself to surprising lengths, that you didn’t think were possible in a normal, safe environment. The cut felt warm. You were pretty sure it started bleeding.

That is until your foot slips and you feel everything going upside down, crashing onto you, sharp pain digging into your sides, as you tumble down. And from water in your nose, eyes, and airway, you can give a wild guess that you fell into some kind of creek. If it’s true, then your clothes and your backpack are most likely busted. You try to get up, but your hands slide over slick, wet rocks on the bottom of the stream, making you slip back into the water and sending you into a whole coughing fit, bitter water resting on your tongue like a layer of algae. You yank your foot from under some rock, desperately trying to listen to the footsteps that at the moment were as loud as hell’s bells for you, stumbling to your feet, and through the thick darkness, you see that the path ahead will only be uphill. The ground is wet and muddy, but you don’t care, hands and nails digging into it, crawling upwards as fast as you can. You feel yourself grow cold when you hear a quiet slide and feel a hand grab you by your leg.

And then you start kicking, screaming, howling until a bitter burn on your throat makes you cough, spreading the sharp pain with every collapse of your chest. Fingers digging into the fresh mud and leaves, raking through them, earth sticking to the underside of your nails, as you try to grapple onto something, anything, to hold onto and save yourself from the iron hold on your ankle. Your heart is beating so fast you can hear it pumping the blood through every single artery and vein, and you’re sure that animalistic fear is being spread through your body along with it.

“Sing for me, boy. Nobody will hear you.” The man’s voice, devoid of emotions, littered with deep sighs and grunts of exertion rumbled from above you, as he dragged you down from the insignificant height you managed to climb.

“Fuck off! Let go of me!” You scream, your body contorted into a bizarre shape as you turn your head, trying to catch a glimpse of the man and correct the aim of your kicks. Your neck was weeping in pain and strain, along with every other muscle in your body. Fear scorched your insides. This was it for you, truly. Nobody will find your body in this stupid fucking forest and you’re just going to become the food for local fauna. Beautiful.

You expected anything – harsh blows to the back of your head, being drowned inside this shallow creek, stabbed to death, until you paint the water red, getting your head bashed in, or even shot like a rabid, stray dog who had no one to care for it. Instead, you’re getting your hands and legs tied together, and the man throws you over his shoulder, despite your attempts to scratch or punch him. You scream and cry, burning your throat raw, kicking and writing in the hold of the unknown person. Chanting harsh insults, and trying to kick or punch didn’t work either, but you didn’t care. You weren’t about to find out more about the local serial killer. However, no matter your intentions, you could not see where you were going, dark earth being the only thing in front of your eyes. Your thoughts and presence float far away from here, as the man brings you somewhere, jabbing a needle with something that makes you light-headed and sleepy.

When you finally wake up you’re changed from your dirt-stained, wet clothes, with your body aching like no tomorrow and the cut on your face dressed. The room has barely any light in it, and you feel the warm covers enveloping you, reminding you of home until you turn your head and see…something. Someone. His presence is enough to send shivers through your body.

He’s sitting by the bed you’re tucked into. Skull mask. Large, looming figure. Dark eyes gleaming right at you. You feel your face contorting into an angry scowl when you look at him and try to get out of bed. He doesn’t move. You get yanked back, and promptly turn your head again, feeling the muscles in your back and neck ache. Your hand is cuffed to the radiator. You feel a rough lump in your throat rise and drowsiness floating away. It doesn’t quite sink in yet, but you could feel the anxiety forming once again in the pit of your stomach and that lump rising as if you’re about to vomit whatever was left of your insides.

You hear the man get up from his chair with a quiet shuffle and the squeak of the chair legs on the floorboards. You flinch back, your back pressing into the warm metal of the radiator, almost burning the skin through your clothes. The bed dips down under the weight of the man. He’s not taking away his eyes from you, even for a second. It makes you want to crawl under the blanket that is now resting at your feet, just to hide from the piercing, heated gaze that you want to avoid at any cost.

You close your eyes, trying to calm down and think about anything else, but what surrounded you. Which proved impossible the moment you felt a rough, calloused hand shift from its position on the bed and rest on the side of your face. Warm, scorching fingers stroking your cheek gently, like that same hand wasn’t just dragging you through water and muck in the shallow forest creek.

Ghost felt…Good. Despite the bad first impression, he was sure that he was on the right track. Your skin felt divine, your beautiful eyes made him want to keep you here forever and never let go. And the way you looked while sleeping made him want to abandon observing altogether and crawl into the bed with you, caging in a tight, bone-crushing embrace that would show you just how much he craves you. But for you, it would probably be too fast, too shocking. For now, just being able to look at you and touch you was enough.

Maybe, if Ghost had a little more bravery he would whisper:

“You’re mine, songbird. Forever”

But for now, it’ll do. You’ll come around. One way or another.

check out my masterlist for more fics or send me a request/comment!

165 notes · View notes