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aylacavebear · 4 months ago

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Bloodlines & Fate Chapter 5

A/N: Today is my birthday. So, I'm posting this today for all of you. I like to do fun things for others on my birthday and throughout the year. This is my gift to all of you, the next chapter early. <3 Enjoy.

Being Touched should have been a blessing—a mark of honor in your lineage, celebrated by your pack since childhood. But to you, it's always made you feel like an outsider, never really fitting in anywhere. Yeah, you had your best friend Jess, but for you, something always felt like it was missing. The land your pack runs on during the full moons brings you a sense of peace you don't fully understand, at first.

Paring: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader/You

Word Count: 4525

Warning: Angst, longing, some Fluff. Not much that I can think of.

A/N: Professor Robert Zimmerman is based off of The Doctor from Star Trek Voyager, as I absolutely love that character. Alaric Saltzman is from The Vampire Diaries.

A/N: It's my first attempt with an A/B/O fic, be gentle please. I hope you like it. Not sure how many chapters this will be yet.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 5

A slow, lopsided grin broke across Dean’s face, utterly wrecked by the sound of your voice. It hit him like a punch to the gut—warm, knowing, inevitable.

Across the room, Jess stood frozen, staring at Sam, who looked just as thunderstruck. Recognition flickered between them, their past colliding with their present. Jess had always noticed him, the boy she’d wanted to talk to but never had. For Sam, she was the girl he’d been too shy to approach, graduating before she ever presented. And now, fate had pulled them back together.

“Looks like our families just got a little bigger,” John murmured to your parents, his voice carrying the weight of years spent hoping for this moment.

“Looks like it,” your father agreed, while your mother pressed a trembling hand to her lips, her eyes glistening.

A teasing voice cut through the heavy silence from the other side of the living room. “Are you four just going to stare at each other all day?”

Heat rushed to your face as you and Jess snapped out of it, giggling like teenagers. The sound was enough to break the spell, letting the brothers breathe again—just barely.

Sam cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “Can, we, uh… talk outside?”

Jess shot you a giddy look before smirking at Sam. “Yeah. She’s not everyone’s cup of tea,” she teased, throwing an arm around you in a quick hug. Then, in a conspiratorial whisper, she added, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“Jess,” you hissed, mortified, but she only chuckled before slipping her hand into Sam’s and leading him toward the door.

Dean didn’t notice. He hadn’t stopped looking at you.

“I don’t bite,” you teased, your voice soft but playful, trying to ease the tension that hung thick in the air.

Dean blinked, finally shaking himself loose from whatever had him trapped in place. “Yeah, I, uh…” He exhaled sharply, shifting his weight like he wasn’t sure if he should move closer or keep his distance. “Sorry.”

Sorry—for staring, for not knowing what to say, for the way his chest ached just from being in the same room as you.

Dean had been around plenty of omegas before. But you—your presence, your scent, your everything—were something else entirely.

And for the first time in his life, he had no clever remark, no easy charm. Just the sound of his heart pounding in his ears and the certainty that he had just found something he never realized he was missing.

Tilting your head slightly, you studied him, wondering what was running through his mind. “Would you rather we spoke outside?” you asked gently, just wanting him to be comfortable.

Dean shook his head again, then cleared his throat, finally forcing himself to move. “I, uh… I wasn’t sure you were real,” he admitted, easing into the seat Jess had vacated. His wolf stirred beneath his skin, urging him closer, but he ignored it—your comfort mattered more than his instincts.

You settled back into your chair, noting the distance he kept. He could have sat beside you, but chose to face you instead. Perhaps he wants to be able to look directly at me. “Your father mentioned you were going through something, when he was here earlier,” you said, your voice laced with quiet concern. “Is everything okay? Is there something I could do to possibly help?”

Dean huffed a quiet laugh, your sincerity both unexpected and endearing. “When I’d come back in the mornings and shift back... your scent clung to me. It sort of drove me crazy because I—” He exhaled, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “I don’t remember anything when I shift.” He tried to find his usual confidence, but the words still felt awkward, like he was tripping over them.

Your brows knitted together. “Why can’t you shift back or remember things?”

Before he could answer, you blinked, realizing something. “Oh! Would you like some coffee?” You winced at the oversight, feeling like a terrible host.

Dean chuckled, low and warm, shaking his head in quiet amusement. You weren’t like other omegas—there was no hesitation, no shyness, just you, unfiltered and real. It was refreshing.

“Coffee sounds nice,” he murmured, watching as you moved effortlessly around the spacious kitchen. He leaned back in his chair, finally starting to relax.

“I have a genetic mutation,” he explained after a beat, his voice quieter now. “It happens sometimes to alphas in my pack. When I shift, I stay shifted ‘til sunrise, and I don’t remember anything.” His gaze flickered to yours, gauging your reaction. “But… the upside is any pups I father will have immunities to certain diseases and things.”

You set a cup of coffee in front of him before taking the seat beside him. “Will you ever get those memories from when you shifted?”

Dean took a breath, steadying himself. Your closeness tugged at something deep inside him—his wolf stirred, pressing at the edges of his mind, drawn to you. But he held himself still, not wanting to push, even as your scent wrapped around him like a whisper of something familiar and longed for. He’d been around plenty of omegas before, but none had ever unsettled him like this. You were his. His true mate. His body knew it, his wolf knew it, and yet, he had no memory of the nights spent at your side.

God, get a grip, he mentally berated himself.

The tips of his ears burned as he exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uhh… yeah. I mean, kind of.” He let out a rough chuckle, almost embarrassed. “My true mate has to claim me before I’ll remember.” Saying it out loud made it real in a way that sent his pulse skittering. Omegas didn’t usually claim alphas, not the way an alpha claimed an omega, anyway.

Your expression didn’t shift the way he expected. No shock, no discomfort. Just quiet understanding. “So, you’re kinda like me,” you murmured, lacing your fingers together in your lap. “I have a genetic mutation, too, but mine’s a little different. I can only smell presentation, can’t shift during the full moon, and… I can’t feel that connection my soulmate would feel being near me.”

It was something you’d always carried like an invisible weight. But telling him? It didn’t feel heavy—it felt like something finally lifting off your shoulders.

Dean stared at you, completely caught up in the way you spoke—gentle yet playful, confident yet soft. God, he could listen to you talk all day and never get tired of the sound of your voice. It was like some heavenly melody that soothed not only him, but also his wolf. When you tilted your head, confused by his silence, he blinked, trying to snap out of the trance he was in.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck, embarrassed at himself for getting lost in your eyes, again. “So, to you, I just smell like an alpha?” he asked before taking a sip of his coffee, trying to wrap his head around that.

He couldn’t imagine not recognizing the distinct scents of his pack, not feeling them in a way that tethered him to something bigger. His wolf whined softly in his mind, unsettled by the thought. “That… sounds lonely,” he admitted.

You studied him for a moment before offering a small, reassuring smile. “I grew up with it, so it never felt like I was missing anything. My pack comforted me with physical contact instead of scent. And I had Jess. She’s like my sister.”

Dean nodded, but the thought still lingered, gnawing at him. He tried to imagine it—living in a pack without scenting the safety and warmth of the people around him. It was foreign, but the way you spoke about it, there was no bitterness. Just acceptance.

“Wow,” he murmured, shaking his head. “I honestly can’t imagine what that would be like.” But there was something in his voice—something quiet and earnest—that made your smile linger.

The two of you talked for hours, the conversation stretching on like neither of you wanted to stop. Even though you’d spent the last several years speaking to his wolf, none of those memories belonged to him. So you shared them, watching the way his eyes softened, the way he leaned in slightly every time you spoke.

He told you about his childhood, about his brother and his pack, about the kind of trouble he and Sam used to get into. And every time he made you laugh, something in his chest eased—like he was getting back something he didn’t even know he’d lost.

Time unraveled between you, stretching and folding into itself, lost in the quiet gravity pulling you toward each other. The hours ticked by, as time often does, the afternoon slowly melting into evening. Golden light slanted through the windows, setting his green eyes aglow. It had all just flowed so easily, his entire body relaxed so much so that he wasn’t tripping over his words anymore.

“Would you let me cook dinner for us?” you asked, hoping he’d stay, just a little longer.

Dean’s gaze flickered over your face, as if memorizing the moment before it could slip away. Then, that slow, easy smile spread across his lips. “Dinner sounds amazing,” he murmured, voice rich with something unspoken.

Neither of you had noticed when the others had left, how the main cabin had emptied around you. The world had faded to just this—this space, this stolen pocket of time where nothing else existed.

Outside, one of your cousins leaned against his truck, a knowing smirk on his lips. “So, your place or his?”

You smacked him on the shoulder, shooting him a glare. “Seriously?”

Dean’s wolf didn’t bristle at the interaction, both finding your behavior somewhat adorable. A quiet chuckle slipped past his lips as he shook his head in amusement. “Hers. She offered dinner, and what kind of mate would I be to refuse such an offer?”

The word mate sent heat rushing to your cheeks before you could stop it, and your cousin barely contained a laugh, though he knew better than to push. Without another word, you made your way to the truck—only to freeze when Dean stepped ahead of you, opening the door with a quiet, effortless chivalry.

Your breath caught when he held out his hand.

The moment stretched between you, charged with something neither of you had the words for yet. Slowly, you placed your hand in his, the warmth of his skin sending a shiver up your arm. His fingers curled around yours, firm yet careful, as if he wasn’t entirely sure if you’d let go.

During the short drive, he wanted so badly to move closer, maybe just hold your hand, but he was trying so hard not to rush into anything. Even his wolf kept trying to nudge him to get closer, missing the closeness the two of you had shared during the full moons. Now, there was nothing separating the two of you.

“Come on,” you said with a smile, stepping out of the truck.

Dean followed without hesitation—not like a lost pup, but like a man who had finally found what he had been missing. His wolf stretched within him, content in a way it hadn’t been in years.

The cabin welcomed you both with the stillness of a familiar sanctuary. The air smelled like you—faint traces of your scent woven into the wood, the very bones of the place. It settled around him, comforting, but not enough. His wolf still wanted closer.

Your parents were nowhere in sight, but a note sat waiting on the kitchen table. You plucked it up, scanning the familiar handwriting before huffing a soft laugh.

“Looks like my parents are going to stay in another cabin for the night,” you murmured, shaking your head before glancing at him. A small, almost apologetic smile tugged at your lips.

If you were being honest, you understood exactly why your parents had left. Most soulmates bonded within hours of meeting—nature pulling them together in an unshakable, undeniable force. Yet, despite the quiet certainty of your connection, you didn’t feel that same urgency, due to your mutation.

Dean leaned against the doorframe, watching you with cautious curiosity. He wasn’t sure why that simple statement sent heat creeping up his neck until realization struck. God, her parents think… he couldn’t finish the thought, his ears burning. His mind hadn’t even gone there.

He cleared his throat, searching for something to ground himself. “So, whatcha gonna make?” he asked, leaning against the doorway as you moved toward the fridge.

“It’s a surprise,” you teased, pulling out ingredients with the ease of someone who had done this a thousand times before.

The room hummed with quiet, steady warmth. Being here, watching you, being near you—it was so damn easy. Now walls, no tough guy act, just the quiet, unshaken truth of your presence. He hadn’t expected this. The pull, yeah, he’d expected that. But the calm? The peace? That was new.

And yet, even as he basked in it, something gnawed at the edges of his mind. You weren’t feeling this same way was. He knew that, had known it from the moment you looked at him without that same electric urgency. His wolf knew you, but you—

You were steady. Measured. Not resisting, but not swept away either.

His fingers curled against the wood of the doorway. It should’ve bothered him, that difference, that lack of mirrored need. Instead, it made his wolf want to comfort you in the ways he had on the nights of the full moon, being close to you.

Having him there, cooking for him, was something you’d only ever dreamt about. Cooking for your mate. The butterflies were still dancing around in your stomach, but it wasn’t nerves, and that alone felt impossible to explain. Maybe it was the way he looked at you—like you were the only woman in the world to him.

Before he even realized it, he stepped forward, his hands moving instinctively to help as you prepped the food. Neither of you spoke, but the silence wasn’t awkward. It was something else. Something comfortable. Like a dance you’d already learned, despite never having done it together before.

Dean found things without asking, his hands moving to the right cabinets like he’d known their places all along. He barely paused, barely had to think—because it all made sense. Practical, easy, like the way his own kitchen was set up.

His wolf rumbled in satisfaction, catching the slight shift in your scent like he’d done on countless full moons. The scent of comfort that he knew came from his closeness. The one that meant home.

You watched him from the corner of your eye while focusing on the meat sizzling on the stove, sprinkling seasonings with practiced ease. “You didn’t have to help. I offered,” you tried to insist, but his easy smile told you all you needed to know before he even spoke. “Feels right,” he shrugged, reaching for a cutting board.

It did. More than right. His wolf settled, no longer forced to watch you from across the room. No longer waiting, hoping.

His wolf wasn’t even uncomfortable being on your pack’s land, never feeling like he needed to protect you from an unknown intruder, not here. Dean mostly stopped fighting what his wolf wanted, letting his comfort around you guide him. He almost chuckled quietly, realizing it was his own nerves that made things a bit awkward at times.

He tried not to think too hard about how much his wolf already knew you—how many full moons you’d spent on opposite sides of the fence, growing familiar in ways he hadn’t yet had the chance to. A part of him wanted to be jealous of that, of the connection his other half had with you before he even got the chance. But he shoved that feeling away.

The last thing he wanted was to taint this with thoughts that didn’t belong here.

His mouth was already watering before you brought dinner to the table, which he had set in anticipation.

Dinner was easy—comfortable in a way that neither of you fully expected, but both instinctively leaned into. The meal itself wasn’t anything extravagant, but it didn’t need to be. The simple act of sharing a table, passing plates, and catching each other’s lingering glances between bites was enough.

Dean wasn’t used to this, the quiet domesticity of it all. A meal that wasn’t rushed, a conversation that didn’t feel forced. You laughed at his surprise when he took his first bite because, of course, you knew exactly how to season everything just right.

“Damn,” he muttered around a mouthful of food, shaking his head. “You been holdin’ out on me?”

You smirked, shrugging as you took a sip of water. “You’ve only known me for a couple of hours, Dean.” His lips quirked, eyes glinting with something warm. “Still feels like longer.”

Neither of you addressed that truth out loud. It just was.

After dinner, cleaning up felt just as easy. You didn’t even have to ask Dean to help—he was already stacking plates, rinsing them off before you even got up from your seat. It was effortless, like he belonged here in ways that should have felt foreign, but didn’t. His hands moved with familiarity, setting things aside as you worked alongside him. The hum of the night filled the comfortable silence, the occasional clink of dishes the only real sound between you.

“Y’know, most guests don’t do the dishes,” you teased, bumping his arm lightly as he passed you a plate to dry.

He scoffed, shooting you a sidelong look. “I’m not most guests.”

No, he wasn’t. And you were starting to understand just how much that meant.

When everything was put away, you hesitated for just a second before grabbing a folded throw blanket from the couch. It was soft, worn from years of use—your favorite. You turned, holding it out to him.

“For you,” you said, feeling a little ridiculous for the sudden shyness creeping in. “Till we see each other again.”

Dean looked at the blanket, then back at you, something unreadable flickering across his expression. He didn’t say anything at first—just reached up, pulling the flannel from his shoulders and offering it in return.

Your fingers brushed as you took it, the fabric still warm from his body heat. You swallowed, clutching it lightly in your hands.

“Thanks,” you murmured, not trusting yourself to say much more.

Dean only nodded, taking the blanket and tucking it under his arm. He looked like he wanted to say something else, but instead, he stepped back, giving you one last glance before heading for the door.

The night air was cool when he stepped outside, the quiet settling around him in a way that had his wolf stretching beneath his skin. He pulled in a slow breath, adjusting the blanket under his arm, when movement caught his eye.

Sam.

Dean stilled, watching as his brother stood on the porch, Jess in the doorway. Sam leaned down, pressing a kiss to her cheek, something tucked under his arm as well. Dean waited till she had slipped back inside before getting his brother’s attention, a lopsided grin on his face again as he waved him down.

The Impala was a sight for sore eyes.

She was parked near the main lodge, the chrome gleaming under the moon’s light, looking damn near perfect. Their parents must’ve driven her up, knowing full well Dean would want his baby for the ride home.

Running a hand along the hood, he exhaled, lips twitching despite himself. “Well, I guess they didn’t forget about us after all.” Sam huffed a quiet laugh beside him, “Yeah. Probably didn’t want to assume one of the Winters would give us a ride back.”

Sliding into the familiar leather seats, he inhaled deeply. The scent of home wrapped around him—motor oil, leather, and something that just was the Impala. The blanket from you sat on his lap, the fabric soft under his fingers as he reached for the keys. The engine rumbling to life beneath him.

Sam settled in the passenger seat, the blanket from Jess resting on his thighs.

The road stretched ahead, and for a few minutes, neither of them said much. Just the sound of the tires against the dirt path, the trees rolling by as the land faded in the rearview.

Sam was the first to break the silence. “Jess is amazing. She made me dinner, and we talked all day.”

Dean flicked him a glance, waiting.

Sam sighed, shaking his head with a small, almost disbelieving smile. His thumb brushed absently over the blanket Jess had given him. “We talked about taking the summer to really get to know each other. Spend time together before we go back to school.” He paused, an almost dreamy smile finding his lips. “She wants me to claim her before we go back to school.”

Dean’s fingers tightened slightly on the wheel.

“We’re waiting, to have pups,” Sam added, catching the shift in his brother’s posture. “We both want to finish school first.”

Dean nodded, jaw shifting, but said nothing. His mind was already moving too fast, and his wolf stirred uneasily inside him.

Sam glanced at him. “What about you and Y/N?” he asked, smelling the shift in his brother's scent.

Dean frowned. “What about us?”

“You guys talk about any of that?” he coaxed gently. Claiming and pups was something he knew his brother thought about often, and now that he’d finally found his true mate, you, Sam was hopeful.

Dean let out a slow breath, his grip tightening for just a second before he forced it to relax. “Nah.”

Sam waited, but when Dean didn’t elaborate, he pressed. “You want to?”

Dean scoffed, shaking his head. “Man, we just met. And we’re—” he stopped himself, exhaling. “I dunno. It’s different.”

It was different, in so many ways. His wolf knew you, for years before today. You were different than other omegas, unable to feel that instinctual pull toward your true mate. Sam knew all of that, but talking about it? Putting words to something he barely understood himself? That was another thing entirely. How the hell was he supposed to bring up stuff like claiming and pups when you were still figuring out what any of this meant to you?

Dean rolled his shoulders, shifting in his seat. “Ain’t about that. It’s just—” His fingers tapped the wheel, and the other slipped down, resting on the blanket you had given him. “There was a lot we didn’t talk about.”

Sam was quiet for a few moments, reading his brother like an open book. “So, spend the summer getting to know her better. Your wolf already knows her. Let him lead.” Dean laughed dryly. “Pretty sure if I did that, he would have claimed her tonight.”

His mind was running a hundred miles an hour, overthinking every interaction they’d had over the day, every moment he could’ve brought any of it up. Hell, should I have? Or would that have been too soon? What if she didn’t want any of that anytime soon? What if she did and thought I didn’t?

Sam sighed, “You’re thinking too hard.” Dean shot him a flat look. “Shut up.”

Sam just grinned, shaking his head. “Look, all I’m saying is, you two still have to talk about it eventually. Might as well rip the Band-Aid off instead of overthinking it to death.”

Dean exhaled through his nose, eyes on the dark road. Yeah. Eventually. But that didn’t mean he had to figure it out right this second.

—-------------------------

The cabin door flew open with a burst of cool night air, slamming against the frame as Jess all but tumbled inside. “Oh my God!” she practically squealed, eyes bright with excitement as she spun to close the door behind her.

Before you could react, she launched herself onto the couch beside you, bouncing slightly as she tucked her legs underneath her. The flannel swallowing her small frame was unmistakably Sam’s—just like the one draped over your own shoulders belonged to Dean.

You huffed a small laugh, “Let me guess—Sam?”

Jess gasped, pressing a hand dramatically to her chest. “Wow. Look at you. Psychic now?” You just rolled your eyes, but the teasing glint in hers didn’t waver.

“Okay, but seriously, yes,” she continued, grabbing one of the throw pillows and squeezing it like it might contain the sheer joy she was trying to hold in. “I can’t even explain it. It’s like—I don’t know. Like he’s always been there, like I’ve always known him. We talked all day. About everything. And then, at the end of the night, he just—” She broke off, grinning so wide it had to hurt. “He kissed me, Y/N.”

A genuine smile pulled at your lips as Jess practically melted into the pillow at the memory, her fingers twisting in the fabric.

“That’s amazing, Jess,” you said softly, and you meant it.

Jess sighed dreamily, still grinning as she looked at you. “I think I love him already. Is that crazy? I mean, I know you hear about the whole soulmate pull, but to feel it…” she exhaled again, her gaze going distant for a moment, lost in the warmth of it all.

You shook your head. “No. That’s normal.”

Jess studied you then, her expression shifting just slightly. That hyper-focused awareness kicking in, the one that always saw too much. “You okay?”

You hesitated, but it was just long enough to put her into little sister mode.

She sat up a little straighter, her grin softening into something more thoughtful, something meant just for you. “Talk to me,” she coaxed gently, knowing how things were different for you than they were for others.

For a moment, you bit your lip. You’d hoped—maybe too hard— that you’d feel that connection, that pull that others felt when being around their soulmate. But hadn’t been there. It still wasn’t. You missed his presence, but not like you knew he was missing yours. Then there was everything he hadn’t even asked you about. There had been plenty of opportunities, but not once had he brought any of it up.

“We didn’t really talk about that stuff,” you murmured, shrugging off the weight of it.

Jess was quiet for a beat, but you could see her mind working through the small piece you’d given her. “Maybe he doesn’t know how to,” she offered, voice thoughtful. “Since you can’t feel that pull, maybe he’s afraid of pushing too hard.” Then, with a knowing smirk, she nudged your shoulder. “What happened to you being the curious one and asking questions so you don’t overthink things?”

You huffed a small laugh, the tension easing slightly from your shoulders. “Didn’t expect you to be the voice of reason.”

Jess grinned proudly. “I have my moments. Now, tell me everything. I have to know.”

----------------------------------------- Chapter 6

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mothhball · 1 year ago

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II – VIRIDIS

viridis – marked by youthful vigor

JONATHAN CRANE X FEM!READER

summary Drinking your woes away was a temporary solution, and it ends up in tears. But even in the darkest night, there's the chance of a silver lining. Just be sure you're well-informed about your shiny spark of hope.

warnings NEEDLES, BLOOD SAMPLE, very mild medfet (a whisper for now), alcohol, reader gets drunk, some mildly foul language, unhappy relationship,

notes oooo longer chapter! and things are MOVING

! MINORS DNI !

story masterlist • main masterlist • taglist • kofi word count: 5.2k

The news themselves were already bad, but even worse was the pity from everyone you told about the rejection. Behind every sympathetic smile and half-hug was a hidden “I told you so” that no one said out loud, but was obvious enough.

Despite what people told you, apparently no one had believed that you could make it in the first place, and that realization caused a rage to burn and fester within your guts. A rage which found no outlet since that wretched Thursday that you since then blacked out with a fat sharpie from your calendar. Reading that letter felt like repeatedly getting hit over the head with a steel pipe, beating you into a pathetic, bloody pulp right where you were standing in your kitchen. Your boyfriend tried to rub your back, but you bristled and immediately turned away from him, scowling like it was him specifically who sent the rejection. His little pout disgusted you. But what made you actually nauseous was the relief in his eyes. Never once, in 3 years of this relationship, did you resent him like you did on that Thursday afternoon. Bitter, seething resentment which almost caused you to lash out at him like a riled-up dog.

But instead, you chose to take the high road. Or rather you fled, left the apartment and drove over to your best friend Mina’s to cry and shout into one of her lovely couch pillows. The smart, admirable choice would’ve been to write an email to Potomac. To timidly ask Dr. Rabin to turn a blind eye and allow you to send in a late application. But every time your fingers hovered over the keys of your old, ratty laptop, the embarrassment was too much, and you slammed it shut once more, leaving the unfinished request behind. But your boyfriend Tristan, in his seemingly endless quest of half-heartedly trying to manage your future, urged you to send the email. So, you did. At least that’s what you told him. A little white lie to let him keep his peace of mind.

Your mood only got worse towards the weekend, prompting a few of your friends and your boyfriend to drag you off to do the responsible thing. Get drunk and shake off the tension during a night out. And now here you are, downing shots on a Saturday night in an attempt to forget your woes at least for a little while.

The club is packed and stuffy, and the lights flicker over a mass of people that seems to have grown into one hive mind of an entity, allowing you to feel swallowed and anonymous for just a few blissful hours. Every mouthful of alcohol that you swallow works in your favor to numb the anxiety gnawing at your bones while the bass gently licks at your feverish skin, causing your heart to vibrate in your ribcage. It’s easy to lose yourself in sips of colorful shots and cocktails. At least until a firm hand on your shoulder prevents you from placing another order. Turning your head, you’re met by Tristan’s disgruntled eyes, and before you can shake off his grip, he’s already pulling you away from the bar to a relatively quiet spot in another hallway of the club. Still, he has to raise his voice when he speaks to you, already laying the foundation for a screaming match.

“What are you doing??” he asks, giving you a once over that only serves to further sour his mood.

“What do you mean? I’m just having a couple of drinks,” you slur back at him, returning that nasty look he’s sending you. Tristan scoffs, shaking his head like you’re a lost cause, even though he’s not exactly sober either.

“You’re getting wasted. Are you still sulking over that rejection? Jesus…”

That actually makes your jaw drop, and you’re speechless for a few seconds, which your boyfriend takes as his cue to continue.

“Just let it go. Some things aren’t meant to be. It’s better this way”

“What the hell do you mean by that?” you hiss back at him, curling your fingers tightly into the fabric of the little dress you’re wearing.

“I… Listen, we both know Arkham isn’t… your style. You… you’re not that kind of person –“ Tristan sighs, somehow trying to make his statement seem less insulting and vague by waving his hands around in your face.

“The kind of person to what??”

“The kind of person who’d make it there! You would’ve quit after two weeks! Let’s be real for once. And then you’d have to start over again and you would have to wait yet another semester to graduate!” Every word that leaves his mouth pisses you off even more, and a truly ugly emotion rears its head within you. Things are escalating. You still have half a mind to realize it. You should call it a night, go home and talk things out in the morning. But this is the first time that Tristan is being brutally honest about your career choices.

“Oh, I didn’t know it was a race, Tristan! How silly of me! I’ll make sure to plan every future decision around your life schedule from now on!” You get in his face, venom dripping off of every shouted syllable that slips from your tongue a little too easily.

“You’re putting words in my mouth! I never said I wanted you to plan your life around me! I’m just worried! All of my friend’s girlfriends –“

“So that’s what this is about? The girlfriends of your little business school friend group?? Am I part of some weird dick measuring contest?” You continue before he gets a word in, asking a question that’s been burning in your throat for a few months now.

“Are you ashamed of me??”

You’re met with silence. Silence that’s so obviously an answer in itself that it causes your heart to slip out of your chest and shatter on the sticky floor below. Tristan notices the devastated expression on your face, but his drunken audacity eggs him on to double down.

“I wouldn’t have to be if you just acted like an adult! You can’t always get what you want! For fuck’s sake, just be happy with what you have for once!” You wish you had a drink you could throw in his face. But your hands are empty, shaking with anger and disappointment. You can’t look at him anymore.

“Screw you, Tristan.” And with that, you turn, leaving him standing there while you rush to find an exit as tears well up in your eyes. He doesn’t make a move to follow you, and it simultaneously calms and saddens you even more.

Navigating the club is even more complicated with your blurred vision, and you bump into a few people, no doubt spilling a few overpriced drinks in the process. But you’re either too fast or they’re too drunk to really do anything about it.

Finally, finally, you make it outside, choking out a strangled noise that’s a pathetic mix between a sob and a whine, and you quickly duck into a nearby alley to give way to the tears. You’re drunk and overly emotional, you try to rationalize with yourself, but it doesn’t lessen the ache in any way. So, pressing a palm over your mouth, you reluctantly allow yourself to cry. The night air is icy, but fresh enough to comfort you and slowly clear up the lump in your throat, and after some cathartic five minutes, you start to calm down again. Your tears run black at this point, dragging your favorite mascara down your cheeks, and you sniffle as you into your purse to grab a compact mirror and assess the damage.

It's in that moment when your phone display lights up, alerting you to an incoming call. Your stomach twists into knots as you fish the phone out of your purse. A call from Tristan might make things worse, and you’re not really in the mood to talk to him right now, so –

But the call isn’t coming from your boyfriend. Your eyes widen before they narrow into slits, and annoyance bubbles up within your chest. There on the phone display, proudly displayed as the caller ID is Dr. Jonathan Crane’s name. Your thumb hovers over the glass before you decide to pick up the call. As soon as you hear his voice, annoyance gives way to a little spark of hope. It also serves to sober you up a little. You barely have time to rasp out a “Hello?” before he speaks, sounding almost relieved that you picked up.

“I know that calling at such a late hour is quite unusual, but I’m glad I could get ahold of you before it was too late. Believe me, I was just as surprised as you most likely were. To be frank, I was so certain that you'd be joining us that I didn't even check the list to confirm it.” Papers rustle on his end of the line. He must still be in his office.

“Yeah, I… I was optimistic as well. Maybe… Maybe a little too much,” you admit softly, trying to concentrate on your words to avoid slurring. Crane hums, and you can’t tell if it’s in understanding or amusement. Reading him in person was already hard enough, but it’s nigh impossible over the phone.

“Tell you what, I believe you dodged a bullet. I clarified with the other staff members what the responsibilities of those interns will be, and that wouldn’t be right for you. Sorting files and sitting in on group therapy sessions at the Low Security Wing? No, that would be a waste of your time. You’re not that kind of person. Which is why I’m offering you something else.”

You lick your dry lips, still tasting the salt of your tears and some last traces of your lipstick. For a second, you’re unsure if you heard him correctly. “Something else?”

Crane glosses over your question, and in your mind you understand. This might be sensitive information. Drunk-You feels a little like a spy, keeping a secret from Tristan who would surely be mad that you’re even talking to the director of Arkham Asylum right now.

“Are you free to come in tomorrow? I know it’s quite late already –“

“Yes. Yes, I am,” you interrupt, feeling brave.

“Good. Then let’s meet in my office at… let’s say… 10 am? Is that alright?”

“I… uh, absolutely.” You quickly rummage through your purse, using a lip liner and an old receipt to haphazardly write down the appointment. “I’ll be there.”

“Perfect. Enjoy the rest of your night,” he says before he hangs up right after. You have no chance to say goodbye properly as the line clicks. Maybe it’s for the best. Knowing yourself, you would’ve wished him a great night as well with the addition of a plea to “get home safe”, which would’ve been a little much.

When you head back inside, you’re spotted by your worried friends and an indifferent Tristan, and dear GOD, the urge to boast and gloat has never been this strong before in your life. But you stay quiet as you put on a smile, avoiding to look at your boyfriend. You stay quiet as your group gets into a taxi, and stay quiet as you get back home and head straight for your bed. “You’re not that kind of person” was something you heard twice in one night. And only once did it feel right.

The pounding ache in your skull serves as your alarm clock the next day, tearing you out of a restless sleep only 10 minutes before you were supposed to get up anyway. A frown finds its way onto your features as you tiptoe out of the bedroom, catching a glimpse of the still sleeping Tristan on the couch in the living room. Neither of you have said a word to each other since the fight, and you'll be damned if you start the conversation about something he messed up in the first place.

You walk past him, feeling the cold surface of the floorboards beneath your feet as you head into the bathroom to try to make yourself look (and smell) presentable. The stench of alcohol leaves your tongue after brushing and rinsing with mouthwash thrice, and an overindulgence of body wash in the shower solves everything else. The final touch is a generous amount of concealer under your eyes, and you're surprised that you actually pass off as someone who doesn't have an awful hangover right now.

Getting dressed is another challenge, though. You can't exactly say that Drunk-You had the gift of foresight to pick a suitable outfit for your second meeting with Dr. Crane, so you dig through your closet to make yourself look presentable. Your fingers wander over the different fabrics, tracing cotton and polyester, wool and tweed as you grumble to yourself. Christ, this shouldn’t feel like rocket science.

This dreadful indecisiveness eats up a sizeable chunk of your time, and as you button up your blouse, you realize how late it suddenly is.

Breakfast consists of an aspirin and a large black coffee, and you make sure to let the coffee machine shriek as loudly as it wants just to spite Tristan a little more before you rush out of the apartment.

This time around, the drive to Arkham Asylum feels a little more familiar. You still depend heavily on your GPS, but you remember some of the turns and streets, and you don’t feel as tiny and insignificant as you did a week ago. You’re here with an explicit purpose now. Crane knows who you are and asked you to come back nevertheless.

Upon entering the still intimidating building, you stop by the reception again, spotting a familiar face. The receptionist seems just as surprised to see you, sharp eyes flicking down to a visitor's list that seems to confirm the validity of your return before she points a manicured nail towards the security check. You raise your hand to wave at her as you pass. She doesn't wave back. Oh well, you can't get them all.

The maze of a third-floor feels straightforward as well today, made possible by the ever-present red lines guiding you to your destination. This time, you're able to meet Crane in his office, and his request to enter can be heard through the door after the first knock.

Everything still looks the same as you enter, save for his now orderly desk. The chaos of files from back then is now a neat stack that the doctor rests his folded hands atop. You open your mouth to greet him, but Crane speaks first, completely catching you off-guard.

"The bunny is back. I'm glad to see it."

"Excuse me?" You blink at him before you look down at yourself. No, no bunny-themed clothes or accessories anywhere that might have given him the idea to call you that. You’re drawing a blank. Unsure whether this is part of a hazing process or an inside joke you must’ve missed, you lift your gaze back up to him. There’s a fleeting look of sardonic amusement on his face before he reels himself back in to elaborate.

“That's what you reminded me of the first time you came here. Glancing around, all skittish and frightened in the hallway…” he explains, already turning his head away from you to reach into one of his desk drawers and retrieve a folder. Your folder. “Please, close the door and take a seat. We’re already running low on time.”

After following his instructions, you find yourself sitting in the same chair from a week ago, foregoing the act of presenting yourself as a confident person. It’s no use, anyway. Crane already knows you’re desperate. It’s seeping out of your every pore, giving your worries a rich and sweet taste that the director of Arkham seems to indulge in for a moment. At least, that’s what you assume based on the expression in his cold eyes. You’re no fool. It’s basically a guarantee that his offer will bite you in the ass in some way or another.

“You must be a little put-off by this meeting. It’s not exactly orthodox to ask you to come in on a Sunday, but I read the list of this year’s interns just minutes before I called you last night. And that was purely by chance. Like I said, I was positive you’d be one of them.” Crane opens your folder, but his eyes stay on your face. “I have no idea what goes on in the heads of my staff sometimes, and now I’m fairly certain it can’t be much. But I don’t intend to waste a person like you.”

You shift in your seat, listening intently to every word that leaves his lips. It’s your lifeline. And he knows it.

“So, I am making you an offer. Just promise to listen first,” he says, and one of his eyebrows twitches upwards at the intensity in your gaze. “The position I’m offering you would be exclusive. It won’t be approved by anyone else but me and it technically didn’t exist before I made up my mind about it. I am offering you the position of intern assistant.”

Your eyes widen. Even in his darkroom of an office, it feels like the air just became lighter and the colors brighter. Crane lifts a finger, continuing his offer.

“No surface scratching – You’d be my shadow. Which means more work and responsibilities, but also more privileges, more insight, more knowledge. I’ll teach you what you need to know to get ahead in this field, and by the end of it, your fellow students will eat your dust. Your professors as well, if I’m being honest.”

Before you can even respond, he’s already reaching back into his desk, pulling out a massive stack of paperwork. And then the rushing begins. Crane checks his watch, clicking his tongue before he pushes the documents over to you, along with a fountain pen.

“How long would it take you to read this? I have to hand this in within the next 50 minutes to make sure you’re cleared in time. If you even accept my offer, that is. It’s a terrible time crunch, I know, but I’d really like to have you as a member of staff in one week.”

Tentatively, you reach out for the fountain pen, twirling it around in your fingers for a moment as you think about his offer. This hesitancy only causes him to lean forward and flip through the first pages, pointing out a handful of sections for only a few seconds each before he moves on.

“It’s the regular stuff, I guess. Everything I just told you in cumbersome wording. I really wish I could take my time and go through each page with you, but the circumstances just won’t allow it. If you have any questions, I’ll gladly answer all of them once you’ve signed.”

It’s shady as hell. A red flag that’s so glaringly obvious that it makes you wonder how Crane can keep a straight expression. But this is your one chance of getting a look behind the scenes. Your one chance of proving them wrong. Professor Campbell, Tristan, everyone who doubted you could do it. This could go horribly wrong. But it could also be your ticket into the big leagues. Shadowing the asylum’s director would be a privilege that no one else gets. A chance to make connections and grow. Not to mention that your résumé would look incredible with Crane’s recommendation attached to it.

Hell, he may be exploiting you, but who says you can’t exploit him right back? It’s your good right to milk this opportunity as much as you can.

Meanwhile, the psychiatrist continues to ramble on, rattling off half-apologies and made-up reasons why you have to sign as quickly as possible once he reaches the last page of the contract. The page where you have to place your signature on the intended line. Both of you are surprised by how quickly you sign it.

As you place the cap back onto the fountain pen, it feels like the air has been sucked out of the room, creating a vacuum in which both of you seem to grapple with the reality that you’d be stuck to Dr. Crane’s side for a few months, following every step and instruction of his. You manage to break the silence first.

“There. I have questions now.”

“Of course. I already expected as much,” Crane says as he pulls the freshly signed contract back to his side of the desk, staring down at your signature as if he’s half expecting it to jump off the paper. But then he places the thick document back into the drawer it came from, letting out a quiet breath. You notice that he seems significantly more at ease now, movements once again patient and effortlessly measured, and your brows furrow a little as you speak.

“What’s my hourly rate?”

“There’s nothing of the sort, I’m afraid.” Your blood runs cold at his nonchalance, and your lips part to protest when he cuts you off. “You will be working the same hours as me. And since my overtime and schedule is a little unpredictable at times, we will just have to see. You will be paid at the end of the month, however. The amount will depend on how much we actually did.”

“I… alright.” You bite your tongue, even though your displeasure is obvious. Nevertheless, you proceed with your second question. “You mentioned more responsibilities. I guess there’s a catch, then? Or a few?”

Crane chuckles, getting up from his chair to walk over to a cabinet in search of something specific. He speaks to you from over his shoulder.

“Right to the point. Wonderful. But yes, there are a few peculiarities that come with the position. Starting with – You’re not afraid of needles, are you?”

He closes the cabinet, returning to the desk with a little tray containing various items.

“We’ll start with a mandatory blood sample. I hope this isn’t a problem. I just need to know that my assistant is in peak condition. And didn’t smoke anything on the way here.”

You want to scoff, but swallow the sound at the last second. The fact that you took offense to his unspoken accusation is written across your face, and Crane doesn’t comment any further on it as he sets the tray down on the desk and pulls his chair closer to yours.

“I’m fine with needles,” you murmur, already pulling up your sleeve.

“No trypanophobia? A shame,” Crane chuckles, sitting down again before he reaches out for your arm. Your doubts whether he’s even qualified to do this as a psychiatrist vanish the moment his hands come in contact with your skin. He’s cold. Almost uncomfortably cold as his fingers brush over the bend of your elbow in search of a suitable vein. Once he’s successful, he picks a tourniquet from the tray of equipment and fastens it around your upper arm. His movements seem too perfect to be experienced. As if he’s a green med student working with the textbook perched on his lap. As if he’d burst into flame if he did something wrong.

“So, about the catch,” he continues, grabbing a bottle of disinfectant and spraying it over the spot he picked on your arm. Surprisingly, the liquid isn’t much colder than his touch. “Since you’ll be my shadow, you’re also required to accompany me to appointments outside of Arkham. Conferences, meetings… so on and so forth. I also have some upcoming court dates within the next few months. Obviously, I’m not the defendant. I’m just an advisor.”

You nod along to his words, eyes following his hands as he rubs disinfectant into his own skin before he pulls on a pair of blue nitrile gloves. Crane stretches the material over his hands until it’s taut, making it squeak before he shifts closer until his knees touch yours. At this proximity, you can smell his cologne, and the combination throws you off a little. It’s mainly sandalwood and bergamot, but there’s a hint of something else you can’t quite grasp. Something chemical, almost acidic. The psychiatrist continues to speak, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“Another catch is that there’s a required dress code for you. As my assistant, you need to always look presentable. You can’t be running around looking like a hobo since your actions and appearance will reflect on me as well. And I’d rather not be associated with… any of those cheap trends that seem to be popular with the bottom of the barrel nowadays. You’ll have to give me your clothing size so I can prepare a new wardrobe for you. It’ll just save us time in the long run.”

Your brows furrow, but his request seems reasonable. “Alright. I suppose that’s fair,” you say, watching closely as he runs his thumb over the bend of your elbow. Then, he presses down to anchor the vein. It’s right in this moment when he decides to drop another bombshell.

“Which brings me to probably the biggest drawback in all of this.”

Your eyes flicker up to meet his. He’s already looking at your face, watching for the slightest twitch in your expression.

“You’ll have to stay at my place for the duration of your internship.”

What follows is a solid minute of deafening silence. Your pulse races, thumping softly against the pad of Crane’s thumb. He can tell you’re displeased, and he frowns a little, surprisingly empathetic.

“What?” you manage to croak out, swallowing dryly.

“Believe me, I spent all night trying to come up with a better solution. Sometimes, I get emergency calls in the middle of the night and it’s vital that you’re there with me. Those cases are the real deal. They’re raw and unfiltered, often much more than incidents that happen during the day. And as you told me during your interview, you live quite far away from here.”

You nod stiffly, gaze dropping to where he’s still pressing his thumb down on your arm. Crane can see and feel how uneasy this condition makes you, and he tries to lessen the blow.

“You’ll have your own bathroom and bedroom, of course. We will only share the kitchen and living room. And the laundry room, but I suppose that is the least of your worries. I won’t bother you.”

When he sees that you’re still not too happy, he quickly adds, “You can also tell me to be quiet whenever I mention work after hours.”

This at least gets a reaction from you. You force yourself to crack a smile, meeting his eyes once more.

“Okay. I’ll hold you to it.”

“Perfect.” The psychiatrist nods, wasting no time uncapping a butterfly needle and puncturing your skin with it. The sudden sting almost makes you flinch, but his grip suddenly is so tight that you don’t get any wiggle room. You watch as your blood travels down through the attached tube, filling up a small sample bottle and shortly after, a second one.

“You’re pretty brave for a bunny,” he jokes, setting your blood samples down on the tray before he releases the tourniquet and reaches for some gauze. His eyes stay on yours the entire time as he pulls out the needle and presses the gauze against your arm, soaking up your discomfort in a way that only fascinated scientists are capable of.

“Press down.”

You mutter a “sure” as you obey his instruction, relieved when he finally turns away from you to discard the needle and his gloves. The final touch is a little band-aid over the tiny puncture wound, and you keep your hand over it as Crane pushes his chair back into its rightful place and takes a seat once more. He studies one of the full sample tubes as he speaks up again.

“You must be a little overwhelmed right now. Which is understandable, don’t get me wrong. But I’d like for you to go home and start packing your most important belongings. I’ll text you my address and will take care of the rest. You just need to show up next Sunday and get started on Monday.”

“Do I need to bring anything in specific? Like… a notebook or something?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “You’ll get your stationery and other supplies here. I’ll make sure to try to organize you a separate desk. Maybe even one of the more comfortable office chairs. But I can’t really promise any luxuries.”

“I know this establishment oftentimes seems like a revolving door when it comes to staff applying and quitting. But I don't want that with you.” Crane tears his eyes away from your blood sample, giving you his undivided attention again. “There won't be an easy way out, however. Either you prove yourself and do your job until the end of your internship, or else there will be no certificate and you'll have to try your luck elsewhere. And I hate to worry you, but getting a job without one of my letters of recommendation might be a little tricky. But I assure you, that's the absolute worst-case scenario."

You let out a little breath and nod, straightening in your chair. Your mind is already racing, spinning around in a colorful variety that ranges from dread to genuine excitement. The biggest problem, however, is that you will have to break the news to your boyfriend. The thought makes you a little nauseous, but if Crane notices it, he’s generous enough not to mention it.

Your goodbyes are brief, and you’re still holding your hand over the band aid as you leave the building and reach your car. Dark clouds are brewing overhead, announcing one of Gotham’s common rainy afternoons, and it already smells earthy with a hint of wet concrete.

The drive home doesn’t take as much time as you would’ve liked, even though you’re stopped plenty of times by red lights or passing cop cars with their sirens turned on. No, you reach the apartment much too soon, climbing the stairs with a heavy heart and sweaty palms. The band aid feels like it’s burning a hole into your flesh, hidden away underneath your sleeve. A secret hint of the meeting with Crane. Your key hovers in front of the lock on your front door as you freeze. Telling Tristan about the internship would mean telling him about your impending new living arrangements. Yes, you’d get the satisfaction of proving him wrong about your capabilities, but he’d blow up about everything else. Even worse, what if he reports the conditions of your internship? What if he ruins everything before it has even begun?

Another big fight doesn’t fit into your schedule either. Neither does a breakup. Taking a breath, you unlock the door and step into the apartment, almost immediately meeting Tristan in the hallway. Time freezes for a moment, and then you say the first thing that comes to mind.

“I need to pack. They want me back at Potomac.”

It’s okay, right? It’s no big deal. After all, it’s just another little white lie to let him keep his peace of mind.

@ellebelleshelby @cilliansprincess @mcumorningstar @x0xomady @mandies24

@detroitbecomevenom @pretty-bluebird @ink5ouls @flwrs4aust @vampmary1411

@ashdrinksoatmilk @nnattu @ptolemaniac @kiss-me-cill-me @celebrities-imagines

@hanawrites404 @ilovetoxicfictionalmen @nocturnest @biblicallyaccuratebee @red-riding-wood

@luvlloyd @ribbonystar @smxkyqvxrtz @bloodandglitter207

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@cilly-murphy @paradiseprincesss @oceanstem @your-nanas-house @fantasmitasolo

@cillianhead @xlostitx @kefi-meraki @ilovepeoplesdads @vegasisthinking

@ryecosse @strangeobsessed @xsweetcatastrophe @cillianslvt @ilovedottore

#cillian murphy x reader #jonathan crane x reader #cillian murphy #jonathan crane x y/n #jonathan crane x you #jonathan crane #nolanverse #.moth writes

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jooillusion · 1 year ago

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helloo~! This was a random 2am thought but what would ot6 reaction be to an unexpected/unplanned pregnancy? They could be married / only dating. Let your mind wander 💗

pregnancy ft. ot6 <3

warnings: unplanned pregnancy, brief mention of vomiting in jiseok’s, a little angsty in hyeongjun’s

lets say you and your boyfriend have been dating for a little over a year. condoms weren’t used after your one year anniversary.

now what did 99% of fic writers tell you about unprotected sex? yeah reader isn’t on birth control now you’re on the way home back from the hospital after feeling too sick. turns out you were completely unaware of being one month pregnant and you don’t even know how you’re going to break the news to your boyfriend. the urge to throw up was even more stronger when you heard your boyfriend walk through the door.

“what’s wrong babe?” he’d ask. his ability to automatically sense your anxious state almost brings you to tears. you bit your lip, avoiding eye contact and blinking once more before your eyes finally meet his.

“i’m not sick because of a stomach bug,” you’d start, eyes closing to avoid seeing his reaction. it was already far too late to abort, so you had no choice but to let him know. “i’m sick because i’m pregnant.”

꩜ G. GUNIL

you’re startled when you feel gunil’s arms wrapped around you, lifting you up off of the ground and spinning you around. elated doesn’t even describe him right now, he feels as if he’s on cloud nine. little did you know, he was ready to take the next step into your relationship and the thought of creating something so beautiful with you truly warms his heart. he can’t wait to be stuck to your side like glue, taking care of you every single second of the day.

꩜ K. JUNGSU

you hear the audible gasp leave jungsu’s lips, and you’re ready for the words of he’s not ready to be a father yet. instead, you’re met with a loud screech? jungsu can’t stop himself from moving, punching the air in excitement and jumping up and down a few times before gathering himself. he clears his throat, “oh, you’re pregnant? cool.” and you find yourself smiling at his actions. he’s already boasting about how excited he is for the upcoming months, hoping and praying for a son.

꩜ K. JISEOK

Jiseok’s mind fogs for a second. his warm palm on your cheek is the next thing you feel, leaning into it as he looks you in the eyes with a caring smile. the announcement doesn’t click until ten minutes later when you’re puking in a toilet again and he’s holding your hair back for you, cooing into your ear about how he’s ready to take care of you and your little one. once you’re done, he’s already discussing baby names and suggesting pregnancy food combinations that he tried and were good.

꩜ O. SEUNGMIN

just like gunil, seungmin is immediately holding you in his arms and spinning you around. he sets you on your two feet, “wait i’ll be right back.” and he disappears into your shared bedroom down the hall. a minute and a half later he comes back with a slightly worn out notebook. “i’ve had this since i was fifteen. i’ve always wanted to be a dad so…” the notebook is filled with baby names, both for boys and girls. you flip through it, not even noticing that he’s on his computer already shopping for a crib and clothes.

꩜ H. HYEONGJUN

hyeongjun’s words are caught in his throat. the uncomfortable silence lasts for too long, long enough to bring you to tears and storm off into your shared bedroom. hyeongjun follows behind you, seeing you crying in your hands which shatters his heart into pieces. he pulls you into a hug, kissing your forehead and trying to get you to calm down, whispering that he’s actually happy about it, just anxious about when the time comes to give birth and promises that he’ll be the best father for you guys’ baby. after you’ve calmed down, he’s preparing you your favorite meal while you’re laying in bed.

꩜ L. JOOYEON

“wait, really?!” you’re not sure if it’s out of annoyance, happiness, or if he was genuinely surprised due to his accent, but the tears that have welled up in your eyes finally slip out and jooyeon is panicking. his warm palms find your shoulders, “why’re you crying, babe? aren’t you excited to have a mini us running around?!” he says excitedly, wiping your tears. “maybe we could name he or she after Luke hyung.” you can’t help but smile, your tears of sadness shifting into tears of joy.

i giggled at the end LOLOL i’m sorry i saw an opportunity and TOOK IT 😭

please remember that this is a pure work of fiction.

#—꩜ ot6 #—꩜ fluff #—꩜ requests #—꩜ reactions #xdinary heroes imagines #xdinary heroes x reader #xdinary heroes reactions #xdh imagines #xdh x reader #xdh reactions #gunil x reader #jungsu x reader #gaon x reader #o.de x reader #junhan x reader #jooyeon x reader #love mail ୨୧

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asher-agere · 3 months ago

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>.< Eewp..doll iz zo obsessed w pjzk... Uhm ... :3 lil kawito n lil akwito hcz? Pleze adn thnk chu azhy!

The PJSK obsession is so real. Silly little tap tap game consuming my thoughts… BUT YAY VBS KAITO IS SO REGRESSOR CODED

Little Kaito + Little Akito

────⋆⋅♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ﾟ.⋅⋆──

⋆ Starting off with age ranges! Akito I see regressing from 4-6, he’s a big kid and he wants to do stuff! I haven’t written any regression content for Kaito before, but I’m thinking 2-5! He has potential to be tiny but he’s mostly in the toddler age range! This of course makes Akito the big brother most of the time! Which he is absolutely overjoyed about. He hates being the little brother in real life, with Kaito he’d the older one! Honestly if it weren’t for the big brother title he’d refuse to refer to Kaito as his brother

.ᐟ.ᐟ Akito likes keeping up his tough guy act. He doesn’t need friends! He doesn’t need relationships! And Kaito is just so openly clingy… Akito never truly gets mad or upset of course, but he definitely gets annoyed and exasperated. He’ll complain all the time that he’s too hot, Kaito just tugs on his hoodie to urge him to take it off. He’ll completing that he wants to move around, Kaito giggles and asks for uppies. He tries complaining that he’s hungry or thirsty, Kaito just eagerly exclaims “Me too!”

⋆ Some of their most peaceful times together is during snack times! Kaito loves his ice cream, and Akito loves his pancakes! Kaito is willing to share but Akito is not, and that’s ok! Kaito doesn’t get upset. Kaito will research what ice creams go best with pancakes and he’ll ask Meiko to get those flavors! It’s usually just vanilla, but I feel like maple ice cream could be good too! Akito acts annoyed but when he tries the ice cream pancakes combination he can’t help but babble softly about how good it actually is

.ᐟ.ᐟ Kaito is very much so monkey see monkey do. Akito has his pacifier? Kaito wants one! Akito’s getting a hug? Kaito’s barreling into them! And yes, the most chaotic part of this, my headcanon that little Akito screams to express any and all emotions? Yup that’s right. Monkey see monkey do. Kaito honestly uses it like a honing beacon, making a beeline to stand next to Akito and start screaming along with him! Honestly sometimes Kaito will even start harmonizing with him which annoys Akito so bad because he interprets it as Kaito dismissing the emotions he’s trying to express and it usually ends in him feeling self conscious and yucky

⋆ Akito struggles to let himself truly relax and let his guard down in general, this is only enhanced by Kaito’s presence though. He needs to keep up the cool older brother act! But Kaito’s not going to judge. He just sits next to Akito and pats him on the head. The headpats are incredibly clumsy and Akito gets hit in the face (gently) more than once, but it’s alright! Kaito is very gentle and patient, and Akito honestly loves the attention, touch starved little baby… He just grumbles his little complaints and Kaito tries to do better!

.ᐟ.ᐟ Akito is incredibly competitive, and he loves playing games! Soccer specifically because I will never shut up about little Akito playing soccer. He always complains about Kaito being on his team, saying that the younger regressor will make him lose. Obviously any and all caregivers make sure the littles team wins, Akito still complains each time though. And obviously Kaito wants to be on his big brothers team! Though sometimes they are on opposite teams to please Akito and then they have to rotate which team wins, and Akito is definitely a sore loser, full on sobbing and tantrum. He’s supposed to win! (˶˃⤙˂˶)

⋆ Kaito gets into trouble a bunch. Not on purpose! He’d just trying to have some yummy snacks! Those snacks just happen to belong to someone else… And while Akito pretends to not like Kaito he will stick up for him! Not to the extent of taking the blame, he makes it very clear that yeah Kaito did that, but he’ll huff and mutter about how “Was jus’ hung’y…” Kaito of course treats Akito like he just saved his life, constantly praising his big brother and thanking him for the help! Akito acts annoyed but he does enjoy the praise so he doesn’t try too hard to get Akito to stop

────⋆⋅♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ﾟ.⋅⋆──

Guys how am I posting so much today… Like what? Also my inbox is officially under 20 omg… Catching up? Whoa…

[DNI ID: An orange box with a grey border. Akito to the right and a stack of pancakes to the key. Grey text reads “DNI if your blog isn’t child safe. I will block NSFW accounts” End ID]

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wontmindd · 2 years ago

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𝐍𝐨𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐍𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐘𝐨𝐮 | 𝐑𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐞𝐧 𝐀𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐚 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

fandom. Mob Psycho 100 by ONE

spoilers!. unspecific spoilers about season’s 3 finale in the beginning, otherwise spoiler free

plot. Reigen Arataka is not only your boss at your part-time job, but your former high school best friend and unrequited love. After a kiss happens between you two, you worry that maybe Reigen is drifting away from you another time. You are devastated, and decide to discuss it while sharing a cigarette at your place.

word count. 4,836k

prompts. fem!Reader, reader is a model, childhood friends, not actually unrequited love, love confessions, fluff, light angst, smoking, late night conversations, kissing, teen crush, childhood memories, hurt and comfort, getting together, making out, emotional sex, naked cuddling, love making, getting together

tw. mild sexual content, sex is here but not graphic or either specifically described

notes. this fanfiction can be considered as a sequel to my other work “Still Into You”. It’s not mandatory to read, but it gives some more insight into reader’s work as a photo model and when Reigen realizes he’s in love with her. Enjoy :)

“I care for you still and I will forever”

There was a kiss.

With Reigen's hands plunged in your hair. Your eyes squeezed shut until they hurt. The sound of his breathing going out of his nostrils. Your hands holding his face.

It happened when Mob lost control of his powers, spreading chaos throughout Seasoning City. You could go with Reigen only for a brief part of your road towards the perturbation, as Serizawa protected the three of you with his umbrella. Reigen insisted on trying to meet Mob halfway, despite your protests.

"It's just Mob, I'll be okay and I'll be back"

He said all of this before taking off his shoes and running in the middle of all the debris that was flying around in the sky. Your legs couldn't move anymore than that, and you just put a hand on your mouth, trying to suppress the urge to scream at him to stop. As Reigen tried to reach Mob, you waited for him while leaning on Serizawa's shoulder, his umbrella protecting you two. Then, the storm stopped. And Reigen emerged under the sunsetting sky, his shirt ripped, blood pouring down his temple. As soon as you saw him, you stood up on your feet, beginning to run towards his direction as he did the same.

"Reigen!"

In a matter of just a few seconds you find yourselves in the arms of one another. It wasn't clear who started it first, but you began kissing. And why? For the care. For the passion. For the happiness of being alive. For love? You felt Reigen's lips moving on yours with resolution, while he ran his hands in your hair. He tasted like smoke, and vaguely of blood. It was a warm kiss just like you imagined it happening between you two. Your heart was beating so hard that you were sure that he was feeling it from your chest to his, from your heart to his. It wasn't the first kiss with Reigen that you expected, but it was the one you wished for. You were so lost in yourselves, that at some point Dimple had to call you two out.

"Geez, get a room"

Only then you regained the necessary awareness to separate. A nervous laugh escaped your lips, and slowly the hands that held you two close started to drift away from your skin. The moment you realized that not only Dimple was still alive, but that Mob was also okay, you ran up to both to hug them tight, even if it was difficult to do so with the green spirit. About the kiss, you didn't exactly know how to feel.

You don't even know it now that things between you and Reigen became weird. It has been two weeks since the kiss and neither one of you talked about an "us". Even after a kiss like that it was still just Reigen and (Y/N). But childhood friends don't kiss like that, and neither do co-workers or people who don't really love each other. That day, maybe for the first time, you had no doubt about his intentions. Reigen really did want to kiss you. It was written in his hands in your hair, in him pressing his body against yours, in the trembling breaths he took at any given occasion. But now you are tormented by doubts. The tone of your conversations was the same for the two weeks following the kiss. Always with the desire to talk about it on the tip of your tongues, but never with the courage to do it. You blame yourself too, it's the responsibility of both you and Reigen to consider your actions, what you two do to each other. But every time you see each other in the office there's that silent agreement: today the kiss will not be discussed.

This afternoon in the office is no different. Reigen has his appointments, Serizawa prepares some tea before heading out for an exorcism, while you on your desk do some paperwork. The looks you and Reigen exchange from time to time, full of unsaid things that are pushing to get outside the heart. In the beginning you could take it. The majority of time spent in the office was with Serizawa or Mob, and it wasn't the case to talk about the kiss in front of them. But after two weeks the excuses were running out. Even today. Not when Serizawa has been out for hours to get an exorcism done and neither you or Reigen decide to talk. Your eyes are slowly starting to sting, as you are scribbling down some practices. You think about how you and Reigen were best friends in middle school and high school. You told each other everything, even the things you were afraid to say to yourselves. You fell in love with him as you grew together, and hopelessly. You gazed at him from a distance at any given occasion, when you couldn't be close to him. Then you distanced yourself when you understood that your feelings couldn't be reciprocated. He just didn't love you that way. Your parents gave you the opportunity to move from Seasoning City and you took it. You and Reigen had promised each other to stay in touch but, over time, your paths were divided. You both started university, found a job and made a new life. Texts and calls became colder, more rare. This until you didn't even wish happy birthday to each other anymore. Then, after ten years apart, you came back and reunited with him after accidentally bumping into each other in the same office you are working now. You just walked in because you thought that your backache was orchestrated by an evil spirit. You didn't read the sign outside and when you came face to face with Reigen, your world changed again. Even if ten years went by, Reigen still reached out to you to help you find a part-time job while you tried to pursue your career as a photo model when you talked to him about your problems. And like that, you were together again.But now, because of a kiss and again because of your feelings, you feel Reigen slip away from your hands. Your eyes start to water at the idea, your writing on paper becomes more sloppy.

Why can't you hold Reigen close to you? A single hiccup escapes from you, and you immediately try to shut it by smashing your hand on your mouth. Finally, after an entire evening with his eyes on his laptop, Reigen flashes his head upwards. He looks at you, and he understands immediately that something's wrong. His lips part, his eyebrows curve upwards.

"(Y/N), are you okay?"

Your eyes bolt up, watered, and your cheeks start to get hot.

"I'm sorry"

You get up and quickly get out of the room, your hand still on your mouth. While you're in the bathroom shedding your tears and your frustration alone, Reigen has his hands planted on his face and his fingers pulling his hair. He lets out a low and muffled groan against his palms, and he curses himself. Seeing you cry makes him crumble completely. And it's not the first time he sees you like this. In high school you were not afraid to cry in front of him, because you knew that you could afford to do that with him. Reigen always listened to you religiously, he always knew what to say to make you feel better and understood. But there were times when you were impossible to comfort.

One of those times, you showed up in front of Reigen's front door without any notice. You were still dressed in your high school uniforms, and it was a spring night. When he opened the door, he immediately asked what happened to you. You planted your hands on his shoulders. Then you got close to his face, your lips parted. And at last, you burst out crying, pressing your forehead against his shoulder. You began crying so hard that Reigen, fearing for your privacy being invaded by neighbours, pulled you inside and shut the door quickly. You two were alone, just you and Reigen in that empty and liminal space as you cried against his shoulder.

"(Y/N), don't cry, please" Reigen said, concern in his voice.

You didn't say anything, too overwhelmed. So Reigen decided to take you upstairs, in his room where you spent so many afternoons. He made you sit down on his futon, then he rested his hands on your shoulders, caressing them.

"What happened?" he asked, gently.

You shook your head.

"(Y/N), please, talk to me"

Breaking your sighs, you finally managed to say "Taka, I just can't tell you"

Reigen, although confused, understood you. With all the respect for your feelings, he accepted that he just couldn't know what was making you cry like that. So he took you in his arms and laid both of you down on the floor. You were so close in that embrace, your legs intertwined, your face in his neck, his hand on the back of your head and his breath on your trembling lips. Two teens in their last year of high school inside a little bedroom on a spring night. One of them cried until her eyes shut from fatigue, and the other fell asleep after making sure that the crying stopped.They fell asleep in their school clothes, all over each other, until the sun came to wake them up. And Reigen never knew why it happened that night that, although so sad, he would always remember with romantic nostalgia.

Today in the office you feel like you are living that night again. But this time he can't cheer you up and he knows exactly why you're crying. Inside the restroom, as you shed tears, you watch your reflection in the mirror. Your shoulders are hunched forward, your hands pressing on the sink. You look in the mirror as you say to yourself "you and Reigen won't ever be the friends you were before". It hurts you more than the idea of him not loving you. When you come back from the restroom, Serizawa is in the office again. He says hello to you with a smile, and you reciprocate, he doesn't notice your red and swollen eyes, but it's not his fault. He's the first to leave the office, closing the door behind him. You silently start to help Reigen close the office for the night. It's dark outside and way past the lunch hour, which you both skipped in order to wait for Serizawa to come back. You feel Reigen looking at you from time to time and your cheeks are hot from embarrassment and frustration.

"Okay, everything's closed" Reigen says, walking towards the door "you ready?"

"Yeah" you say, with half your voice.

Before you can reach for the door knob, Reigen blocks your way with his body. You look at him, confused.

"Today I came with my car, I can give you a ride home" he says "if you want to of course”

You feel your stomach tightening. With an unsure sigh you say "It's really dark outside, are you sure?"

Reigen's driving experience was really limited, but he nods convincingly "I'm sure"

You take a deep breath and nod "Okay then, lead the way"

You walk out the office, making small talk as you go down the stairs. It's more comfortable than your silences. Years ago your silences were relaxing and intimate, beautiful. You can't afford that luxury now. You chat about your day in the dark and empty parking lot behind the office. Reigen was used to escort you to your car when you finished work late, just to make sure that you were safe. You arrive in front of his grey car, the one that you had to drive when he got too drunk at a wedding party. That same wedding where you pretended to be a couple to avoid people's prejudices. You slow danced and smiled together. Maybe you haven't had such an intimate moment with him since high school. The chatting ends inside the car, replaced with commercial music on the radio. Reigen keeps the volume low to not get distracted as he drives through the city night lights. Your elbow is pressing against the inside of the car door, your gaze fixed outside the window as you rest your chin on your hand. At red lights, Reigen takes some seconds to look at you.

He would kiss you right now if he could.

After ten minutes of driving in the night streets, the car slows down. Reigen's foot hits the brake, stopping it completely. You don't move from your position, and he looks at you with apprehension.

"Wanna smoke a cigarette?" he asks.

Finally you turn around and look at him, and you give him a melancholic smile.

"Yes, why not?"

Reigen nods and opens the door. He takes a few steps outside and then he lays on the car hood as he waits for you. You stay in the car, looking at him. Your heart steadily beats against your chest. Then, you get out and walk close to Reigen at a determined pace.

"Do you wanna go inside?"

Reigen, a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth, widens his eyes a bit in surprise.

"If that's okay for you" he replies.

"Of course it's okay"

You smile. It costs you some effort but not because you don't mean it. Reigen reciprocates. It's maybe the first sincere smile you exchanged since you kissed. Reigen starts to follow you up the stairs of your condo. You guide him, and from another perspective that walk up the stairs looks like a chase. It's not that far from reality. In front of your door you shove your hand inside your purse, frantically looking for the keys. You take them out with a chiming sound and then you turn them around in the keyhole. Reigen thinks that your apartment smells just like you. Like the perfume you always put on, vaguely like your lips of which the taste is carved in his mind forever. And it had that same pleasant air of your former house during summer afternoons when you were teens, when you used to sit on the floor in a star position. The fan always on, ice cream sticks thrown away in a corner, sweat running down your temples and your hair sticking onto your skin.

"We can smoke on the balcony" you say, gesturing him to follow you.

"It's your own apartment but it smells like your old bedroom" Reigen adds.

"And the mess is still here"

As you walk towards the balcony, you shove some clothes behind a sofa with your foot.

You slide the big door-window open. You both get out, and a cold breeze hits you unexpectedly, making his grey jacket and the hem of your skirt flow. Then, you close the door behind you and go towards the balcony railing. You lay against it on your back, it's cold and rough. You start searching for a pack of cigarettes. It's new and fresh, the smell of tobacco mixture faintly tastes like chocolate. You take one cig and put it between your lips. You gesture towards Reigen's lighter with your finger, since yours died.

"Wait" he says, and he makes you come closer.

You obey, and he makes the tips of your cigarettes touch, his is already lit up. Inhaling deep from the filter, even yours lights up with a magmatic color. You look at Reigen and your faces are really close as you exchange a cigarette kiss. Then you separate and you both blow the smoke out in sync.

"It's funny" you say, exhaling smoke "the first time I saw you smoking after we met again I was surprised because I thought you dropped the habit"

"Yeah, but since Mob started working for me I smoke way less" Reigen takes the cigarette between his lips, but then his eyes widen and he looks at you "wait, what do you mean by habit?”

You chuckle "You thought I was that stupid in high school?"

"I dunno what you're talking about"

You smile with nostalgia "I knew that your bathroom breaks during class were just excuses to go behind the school and smoke"

Reigen presses the filter between his lips and inhales. Meanwhile, he puts his hands up to resign, and he exhales a puff of smoke.

"You got me" he says, an amused grin "I didn't want you to think badly of me"

Now Reigen's elbows are pressing against the railing, his clasped hands hanging down. Your apartment is not in the heart of Seasoning City, and during the night the balcony is plunged into nothing but darkness and starry skies. Both you and Reigen puff some clouds of smoke that start to dissipate between stars. You don't see them because you are laying on the back, opposite to Reigen who is hunched forward. Your head slightly swings back and cold hair hits your naked neck.

"You've always been like this, Arataka" you whisper.

"Like what?" he asks.

"Ahead of me"

Reigen frowns his eyebrows and takes another hit. He seems concerned. You copy him and you let the smoke roll on your tongue.

"During middle school, high school..." you continue and blow smoke out "you were always so ahead of me. Everytime I looked at you, I couldn't help but feel like you were always a hundred steps ahead of me. Not in a bad way, but not in a good one either. It was just like that"

Reigen puts the cigarette out, throwing it out the balcony. He looks at the last cloud of white smoke disappear in the starry sky, dissipating forever. With a nervous chuckle he says.

"That's not true"

You look at him. Reigen's eyes are somewhere else, very distant, maybe in another reality. He talks again.

"I mean, you were the prettiest girl in both middle school and high school. Perfect grades, in a lot of clubs and groups, with students asking you out almost on a daily basis. Maybe if I didn't hang out with you I would have been bullied or something like that"

You shake your head.

"That doesn't mean anything, Arataka"

For some reason, the soft and tender tone of voice you used made Reigen want more. He gets close to you, who just stepped on the butt of the cigarette with the tip of your shoe. Almost without noticing, Reigen's arms encage you between his body and the railing, his fingers wrapping tightly around it. He looks at you deeply as you look at him through your lashes.

"The truth is that I couldn't even reach your ankles. I was nowhere near you," you say, slowly "because I loved you but you didn't love me.

Reigen's eyes widen and his fingers squeeze the iron railing more. His heart skipped way more than just a beat. You don't move beneath him, because you're so tired of not talking and running away. Your eyes are fixed on one another, pupils dilated.

"The beautiful and intelligent girl you talk about actually spent the night crying between your arms ten years ago because she couldn't be yours. I never told you, but that night I cried for you and not just that. I even cried because I thought that if I couldn't get you then I couldn't get anything. I moved from Seasoning City because of this. I felt small at that time and I feel small now, because I don't know my future in the modeling career and I'm still here chasing you. Because I still love you, Reigen. Maybe I never stopped in ten years. And I know that you don't feel the same but I wanted to tell you anyway"

"But I do love you" Reigen says "I really do"

It's a really quiet night. It's made of stars, cold air, smoke and words that are finally said. Made of (Y/N) and Reigen, his eyes in yours, his arms that create a space that is all between you two, his hands that are shaking around the railing. And it's made of your (e/c) eyes that fill up with intent, and your irregular breathing, and your mouth opening.

"And I'm not saying it just because you became this super hot model who poses for famous perfume brands. I say it because I loved you everytime we smoked a cigarette together, or when you wished me good morning in the office with a smile. And I love the way you never judge me even if I always do so with myself. I feel small in the world too, and with this anguished feeling that I've never accomplished anything in this life"

Reigen takes a deep breath, just a few inches from your face, and his voice breaks slightly.

"But I rather feel small in the world with you than being alone"

Reigen gets close to you and kisses you. Your mouth smothers the shaking in his voice. You reciprocate the kiss immediately, closing your eyes. It's happening again. You missed his mouth as if you had kissed it a thousand times already. Without notice, his body pins you against the railing, and when he does it you relax. You feel the airy noise of his breathing blowing out of his nostrils, and his heart beating against his chest. When you were in high school you spent a lot of time thinking about how kissing Reigen would be and feel like. Maybe it would happen in class when it was you two's turn to clean it, or at your home when he visited you to read manga together on the floor, or maybe in the back of your car after you took your driving license. Now this kiss feels right as it is, just like the first. When you separate you look at each other with astonishment, the eyes before and the lips after.

"Stay here tonight" you say, in a whisper.

"Yes" Reigen says.

This time you kiss with more urgency, your hands in the bristly base of his honey hair, his arms around your waist. Reigen moves you from the balcony railing and you begin to walk inside. Sometimes you stumble on your feet or bump your teeth against each other. Both of you chuckle and whisper some sorry's. Once inside, you close the glass door and take his hand, guiding him towards the bedroom. You take a second to switch up the lampshade and then you begin to take your clothes off. Your skirt first, then your shirt, and even your underwear, until Reigen sees you completely naked under the dim and orange light of the lamp. He gets close to you, removing his jacket, and he looks at you up and down.

"You're so beautiful (Y/N), you've always been" he says, calmly.

You, on the other hand, cup his face in your hands and kiss him again, and you feel him pushing you lightly towards your bed. You fall down on the mattress, a cloud of pristine blankets moving under your body like waves, your hair contrasting with them and scattered all across the bed as if you were underwater. You look at Reigen with hypnotized eyes as he gets on top of you and takes his shirt off, then you help him unbutton his pants. Only his boxers are on now.

"Can I?" he asks, he's sweet and his hands encapsulate your knees.

"Yes, please" you blurt out in a hurry.

Reigen opens your naked legs and slides his boxers down his thighs. He kicks them off with his feet and positions himself between your legs. You stroke his cheeks and his bangs with the tip of your fingers.

"I find you as beautiful as I thought you were in high school"

You smile to each other slowly, drowning in your gazes. Then, Reigen enters you and you both emit low groans.

Reigen starts making love to you with infinite delicacy, always looking at you in the face. Your lips relax.

"I waited so long..." you whisper.

Reigen arches his eyebrows upwards as he speeds up his thrusts. He feels your legs intertwine around his waist so you can feel him deeper. Your bedroom, in which you always slept without company, is now full of the sound of skin against skin, of the sweet nothings you whispered to tell each other that you were doing good. A lot of praises too. Sometimes you stop to kiss, with Reigen caressing you everywhere, and you squeezing around him even more because you want to be closer. Two bodies under a soft light and with the night out the window. After a while, the rhythm of Reigen's thrust gets more erratic like the creaking of the bed, you know he's close and you are too. You come first, then Reigen follows you. Your mouths are wide open to catch air. Then, Reigen collapses on top of you, plunging his face in your neck. In your skin, he whispers

"Maybe I didn't love you then, but I love you now I swear"

You close your eyes and hold Reigen close as you feel him slide outside of you. You brush your face on his shoulder.

"I know you mean it, you never lie to me"

Reigen rolls on his back, his diaphragm moving up and down irregularly. He looks up at the ceiling as he takes you in his arms and makes you rest on his naked chest.

"I wish I loved you ten years ago, so I would have never lost you"

You shake your head and look up in his eyes.

"Arataka, it was all my fault. You didn't owe me your feelings, not ten years ago and not now, I was just selfish in moving from Seasoning City because I couldn't handle the heartache. We were best friends before lovers, and it wasn't right to just run away without telling you why"

"I could have done more to hold you close, maybe writing you more, calling you, insist to know what was going on"

Reigen shields his sweaty forehead with his hand, covering his eyes in frustration.

"C'mon, stop. We are here now, and we are together"

You pull Reigen's hand away from his face and he rests it on your back, tracing circles on your naked skin with the tip of his fingers. Then, he cups your cheek with his free hand and closes the distance between you and him, kissing you deeply. He moves you on top of his body. Then, you reach for the lampshade switch and turn it off.

"We were good today, we did good to each other" Reigen says, holding you close.

You nod, your hair tickling his chest.

"And tomorrow morning I'll make you breakfast in bed, have sex again if you want and then I'll take you out to eat ramen"

In the darkness it's possible to distinguish only the outline of your bodies, which looked like an individual identity. The motion of your laugh and Reigen stroking your hair can be seen.

"You are every girl's dream. Well, mine in particular. Thank god that after ten years it's still me and you"

You both fall asleep all over each other.

In the morning you wake up to the sunlight shining through the open windows. It floods the room with a warm natural light that makes the white sheets of the bed shine, and even your naked skin. You open your eyes, fluttering them a couple of times. You start to slowly roll on your side, sheets sliding down your body. During the night, Reigen inadvertently scooted away from you and laid on his stomach. He's still sleeping, it's dictated by the slow movement of his back going up and down. The scar he got from his first fight against The Claw is clearly visible, a deep cut running from the top to the bottom of his back. His face is directed towards the window, you can't see the expression he has on his face. But you are more than happy to just settle with looking at his honey colored hair that play with sunlight. You smile full of the awareness that you love Reigen, and Reigen loves you.

I'm sure we're taller in another dimension, you say we’re small and not worth the mention

#mob psycho 100 #reigen arataka #mp100 reigen #mob psycho shigeo #reigen arataka x reader #x reader #reader insert #fem reader #female reader #ao3 writer #anime #reigen x reader #tumblr sexyman #writers on tumblr #fanfic #fanfiction #oneshot #mp100 #Spotify

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thexsanctuaryx · 9 months ago

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{ summary: } emma is feeling insecure and goes to marc about it. based on the song "phobia" by savannah sgro { 3 of 3 } { pairing: } original character { emma harper } x marc spector { mentions of } emma harper x steven grant && emma harper x jake lockley { contents: } fluffy angst, hurt/comfort, insecurity, happyish ending { warnings: } none really { author's note: } I got really stuck on this song that reminded me so much of how emma feels about the boys, and so I decided to do a trilogy of "oneshots" based around the lyrics where each moon boy got a different lyric from emma. this is marc's. { word count: } 611 { taglist: } @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction { credits: } middle divider from @bernardsbendystraws

She’d been pacing in front of him for at least five minutes—or was it ten—trying to resist the urge of becoming—what she perceives as—irrational.

She was being irrational.

He’d given her no reason to believe the things that were racing through her mind. No, those things stemmed from a long history—a history of being left behind.

Eventually, she inevitably got to be too much. Or people got bored with her. Or any other number of reasons why people just didn’t stick around.

She blames herself for it of course.

Meanwhile, Marc sits on the couch watching her wear out the floor with a troubled expression etched into his features.

She’d said they needed to talk when he’d gotten home from a round of Uber driving. She hadn’t said about what, but clearly it wasn’t anything good.

That had been a good fifteen minutes ago.

Marc wasn’t always the best with these things. Talking that is. And he didn’t want to pressure her to speak before she was ready to, so he’d sat here, anxiously waiting while she tried to find the words.

When she starts to look more worse for the wear he finally speaks up himself.

“Please talk to me, baby…” He urges softly.

She almost jumps out of her skin, having been so lost in thought she almost forgot he was sitting there.

Her face scrunches up in silent distress.

“I promise we’ll figure out whatever it is—together…” He continues, resisting the urge to reach for her.

“I’m—I’m terrified…” She confesses almost inaudibly.

Marc keeps his tone soft and even, “of what, baby?”

Her face crumples a little again, sucking in a sharp breath as she barely holds back tears. Her voice begins to tremble despite her best efforts to keep it strong.

“That one day, you’re gonna wake up and get sick of me—that—” She inhales sharply.

“That I won’t be what you need anymore…” She finishes with a choked sob, burying her face in her hands as she begins to quietly cry.

Marc is swift to rise from where he sits, closing the distance between them in seconds.

He gently pulls her hands from her face, just so that he can take it into his own as she shakes.

“That is never going to happen…” He states firmly, wiping the tears that stream slowly down her cheeks.

She refuses to open her eyes, shaking her head as she coughs.

“Look at me, baby…”

She cracks her eyes open, her brows pulled painfully together as she looks on him pleadingly.

“I’m never going to get sick of you, I’m never going to stop wanting you, and I’m never going to stop needing you…” He pauses. “Those things are non-negotiable.”

“You can’t be sure—”

“I can and I am.” He cuts her off.

At his words, she breaks down into more forceful sobs, just trying to remain upright.

Again, Marc is quick to move in to cradle her, holding her safely and firmly against himself.

“I’m not going anywhere, baby—we’re not going anywhere. I promise.” He reassures her.

“What if you change your mind?” She asks brokenly, clinging desperately to him.

“Not possible…” He says, a sense of awe in his tone, a soft smile of pride lacing through his words. “You’re the love of our lives.”

She inhales a quiet sniffle, hugging herself tighter to him, pressing a grateful kiss to his heart through his shirt.

He withdraws just enough to wipe more tears from her face, looking her over.

“Someday you’re just gonna have to believe that…okay?”

She nods quickly, sniffling again, her voice small. “Okay…”

#moon knight #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight fanfic #moon knight fic #moon knight system #moon boys #marc spector #marc spector x oc #steven grant #steven grant x oc #jake lockley #jake lockley x oc #muse: emma harper #muse: marc spector #temp tag: marc/emma #{ oneshots }#{ trilogy } phobia #elle's writing #elle's oneshots

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leegemma · 2 years ago

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hiiii, I love your writing and I’m hoping you can do a ZB1 Lee! Hao and Ler! Jiwoong with lots of teasing and prompts 12, 47 and 93!!! <3

Thank you for your request! This was so fun to write! I didn't really know how to end it so you'll have to forgive me for that, haha

Enjoy:)

12 - “come on, let me see that smile!”

47 - “i think that i like this. can you do it some more?”

93 - “you’re too cute.”

---------------------------------------------------

With the group's very recent debut and extremely tight schedule, the tension and stress at the zb1 dorms was greatly felt. Affecting each one of the members in different ways. And while they all tried to be there and listen to each other as best as they could, the oldest members were definitely up on their feet and running around between the younger ones more.

Take Zhang hao for example, he hasn't

slept for a whole day now. It started with him helping Ricky understand something in Korean, to him helping Gunwook with a dance move, to making sure Matthew was eating well, to him helping Gyuvin picking out outfits, to trying to calm Hanbin (who was obviously also extremely stressed) down.

Hao finally got the time to take a break when coming back from Taerae's room after practicing some vocals with the boy. He let out a deep sigh as he took a place next to Jiwoong on the sofa in their lounge.

Jiwoong, who was reading a book peacefully up until that moment, looked up from the book and at Hao. "You okay?"

At this moment, it was as if the whole brave and strong face Hao has been putting on just refused to stay on any longer. Hao broke down in tears, his little pout coming out.

"Oh Hao." Was all Jiwwong said as the oldest scooted closer and hugged Hao close.

"I'm sorry... I feel selfish for even crying right now. I know I'm not the only one who has it hard right now." Hao shook his head slightly, tears not stopping.

Jiwoong poked his side lightly, smiling gently when the younger jumped slightly

"Don't you dare say that. You're human and of course this is hard and stressful for you right now. Don't apologise for doing nothing wrong."

"But I'm the second oldest, I'm supposed to help the younger boys and stay strong for them. I can't brake."

"You can and you will, Hao." Jiwoong shook his head. "Of course as the eldests we have to look out for the others, but that does not mean we can't look out for ourselves too. Besides, I'm older than you and it is my job to look after you as well."

Hao smiled at that. "And then who will take care of you, hyung?"

Jiwoong rolled his eyes, a bigger smile making its way into his face. "You know very well all of you guys take good care of me."

"I guess." Hao shrugged, going back into a serious mood.

Jiwoong was quick to notice that though. "Alright, smile." He separated himself from Hao and held him by the shoulders instead.

"Huh?" Hao looked at Jiwoong in confusion.

"You heard me. Smile." He poked Hao's tummy.

"Hey!" Hao tried covering his body with his hands when Jiwoong continued to poke all over it.

"I'm not stopping until you smile!" Jiwoong himself was grinning now, looking at Hao as the cute boy grabbed a pillow from next to him and covered his face with it, somehow managing to keep the giggles in.

“come on, let me see that smile!” Jiwoong urged.

"Nohohoho" Hao broke into hysterical giggles as the older's pokes turned to quick jabs and squeezes. He still kept the pillow up.

"Hao~ I'm giving you five seconds to put the pillow down before this turns into a whole tickle attack~~" Jiwoong warned.

Zhang Hao blushed. "Nahahahahaha!"

"Five... four..."

"Please!"

"Three... two..."

"Hyuhuhung!!"

"Andddd... one!"

Jiwoong jumped to sit on Hao's hips the pillow falling off the sofa in the process, Jiwoong dug his fingers in Hao's sides as soon as he was sat comfortably. "There's that smile!"

"YOUHUHURE SOHOHO MEAHHAHAN!" Hao trying pushing at Jiwoong's hands, to not avail.

"And you're so ticklish!" The older said. "You're ticklish here, and here, and here and here... and especially...." Jiwoong poked at different places until he started wiggling his fingers right above Hao's armpits area.

"NAHAHAH PLEASE DON'T!" Hao pleaded, though did nothing to stop Jiwoong even though he had his hands fully free.

"Right... here!!!" Jiwoong dug into Hao's armpits. "Oh no! I think my hands are stuck!"

"IHIHIM NOHOHOT FAHAHAHLLING FOHOHOHR THAHAHAT!" Hao shook his head from side to side desperately.

Jiwoong kept his game going for a little longer, eventually taking his hands out of Hao's armpits when he watched the younger boy falling in and out of silent laughter. Jiwoong kept smiling down at Hao, wiping his thumb on his cheek affectionately.

"Hyung..." Hao let out after recovering quickly. “I think that i like this. Can you do it some more?”

Jiwoong was quick to process Hao's words as his shocked face turned into a shiny beam. “you’re too cute.”

As if he's been waiting for Hao to ask for more, Jiwoong started right back again, this time going for the thighs and squeezing them both.

"HYUHUHUNG" Hao let out a snort.

"Awwz did you just snort? That's so cute!" Jiwoong laughed along.

"NAHAHAHAHA" Hao was happily laughing and squirming as he felt Jiwoong moving on to his knees.

After a while on his knees, Jiwoong decided he was getting a better reaction on the upper body, as so his hands found Hao's ribs.

"Hey Hao, should we count your ribs to make sure your sadness didn't take any away?" Jiwoong's questions were often strange, but never this strange.

"WHAAHHAHAT?! NOHOHOHO! IHIHIT DIDN'T!" Hao screamed.

"And how can you be so sure? I just want to check to make sure you're actually okay now... just looking out for my younger brother." Jiwoong winked and started counting, shaking his fingers into Hao's ribs as much as he could in the process. "One... two..."

"THIHIS IHIHIS BAHAHAD!"

"Which one? One or two?" Jiwoong moved up. "Or three and four?"

"AAHAHAHAA ALL OF THEM!" Hao was fighting himself trying not to let his arms in the way.

"But if you had to choose one..."

Jiwoong kept the ribs game up until the tenth rib, when it really looked like Hao would pass out. He then stopped and got off the younger boy. "Have we had enough?"

"For now... thank you." Hao was now in a mood where he couldn't stop smiling.

"Always... okay? If you ever want to laugh some more, just come to me." Jiwoong nodded and pat Hao's head.

"Thank you... would you uhm... would you mind if I just close my eyes for a minute?" Hao made sure as his voice was still resting in the older boy's lap.

"Of course not. Go ahead." Jiwoong encouraged, picking up his book again. Smiling as he felt Hao dozing off.

Only around 5 minutes later the group's youngest came in the room looking for Hao.

Jiwoong was quick to shoosh him and point at the sleeping Hao. "You need anything? He's sleeping."

Yujin quickly understood and whispered back to the oldest. "I just need help with homework."

Jiwoong nodded and looked down at Hao again, lifting his head from his lap and resting it on the couch gently. "We'll let him sleep, okay? I'll help you."

Yujin nodded along and walked out of the room, telling Jiwoong he'll wait in his room.

Jiwoong assured him to go ahead and that he'll be right there, making sure to cover Hao with a blanket and even whisper a sweet little: "sleep well..." before even thinking about leaving the room.

#tickle fics #zb1 tickle #zb1 tickle fic #zerobaseone #lee!zhanghao #zhang hao #ler!jiwoong #kim jiwoong

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paralyze-fic · 2 years ago

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Paralyze.

Chapter 16

The day had ended, it was already 5 pm and Aizawa had told us to go home. I got ahead of everybody and began walking home on my own.

Well, at least I wanted to.

"Wait, dickhead, we're going the same way," a hard jab to my side made me flinch and hold my ribs, I looked up and saw the spiky hair of a certain ash-blonde and an overly happy shark-teethed boy.

Bakugou and Kirishima.

"Ugh, why do I have to be with you every goddamn day? You're annoying, Katsuki," I said out loud and Eijiro laughed. Bakugou had his cheeks red but he was growling, and kicked a tiny stone on the sidewalk.

"Look who's talking," he quoted me, making fun of my voice. A fake offended gasp got past my lips.

"How dare you? That was an awful imitation of my voice," I pushed him playfully and he chuckled.

"It was a good try though."

"No, it wasn't."

We kept bickering back and forth for a while until Kirishima laughed. "You two are too opposite, but yet get along so well, I'm surprised."

"Well, he's the only extra that I can talk with," Bakugou tried to hug my shoulder, but because of our height difference, I had to bend down a bit.

"I'm not sure if I should be glad or offended, Katsuki," he smirked and let out another chuckle.

"You should be glad, you're Bakugou Katsuki's best friend. You should feel honoured." My sarcastic laugh made him poke hard my ribs, but that didn't stop me from making fun of him some more.

//////

Iida made us stand in four lines by each other, and the person next to us would be our seat partner. I got to sit with Bakugou, great.

He's not gonna stop annoying me. Not that I mind, I like the attention he gives me.

I sat by the window, and Bakugou plopped right beside me. I could see Aizawa at the front seat wanting to tell us something, but the loudness of the rest didn't let him. In the end, his eyes focused forward after trying and failing.

My eyes were droopy, I hadn't got a good sleep last night. The racing in my mind didn't let me. I laid my head back against the headrest and closed my eyes to sleep for the whole duration of this trip.

//////

A hard shake from the bus made me open my eyes, blinking to get rid of the blurry sight. I looked around, only to see that everybody had fallen asleep too, my body was feeling a bit numb so I tried to move, but a weight on my shoulder shifted.

Looking to my left, I saw Bakugou's head resting on me. That instantly made my heart thump, I was just hoping the noise of it wouldn't wake him up.

I looked away and out of the window, trying to just ignore his presence. But I couldn't.

Not when his fucking arm hugged my waist to pull me closer to him!

Okay, this made me remember that one time at his house. The first time I spent the night at the Bakugou's household. Now I had to think of something quick, I needed to pull him away or else-

"(M/n)..." my breath stopped and I didn't move a muscle for what felt like ages, waiting for him to say something else, but instead he just squirmed on his seat and moved his face closer to my neck.

Now his warm breath was touching my skin! This was too tempting. Why. God, why? What kind of test is this? You wanted to test my resistance with the person I like? Well, congratulations, I've never been so close to jump on him and kiss his lips to death.

Okay, maybe not to death, I still wanted him to be an annoying piece of shit, so maybe... until unconsciousness? Yeah, that seemed less deadly.

With a sudden urge to look at his peaceful face, a deep breath got in through my nose and out of my mouth. It's now or never, (M/n), you've got this, he's asleep and so is everybody else, they wouldn't think of you as a weirdo if you stare at Bakugou for hours, you can do it, just a tiny glance. Okay... 1... 2... 3!

I moved my head, being careful to not hit him and wake him up, and moved my eyes a bit down.

My god. Why does he have to be hella cute? I wanna eat him.

I felt my lips parting at the sight of his face. The most peaceful expression I have ever seen on his face, he did look like an angel, even more beautiful with the sun coming in through the window. But he had a little frown in the middle of his eyebrows, I tilted my head slightly to the right, covering his eyes from the sun, and the scowl disappeared. A smile tugged at his lips and I couldn't resist.

I leaned down to kiss his forehead and left trailing kisses to the tip of his nose. I was extremely tempted to kiss his lips, but I just left lots of tiny pecks on his cute nose, resting my forehead on his after I finished.

"I like you Katsuki... so much," I whispered and decided to look away, otherwise I would do something I would've regretted doing without his consent.

I kept looking out of the window, my mind blank now, and slowly, as the minutes went by, everybody began to wake up and stretch while yawning. Bakugou woke up too, and I quickly closed my eyes when he pulled back so abruptly. The feeling of his eyes on me was keeping me aware, I felt it, he was trying to know if I was sleeping or not, I had decided I was gonna play the 'I was sleeping, didn't know shit' card about the hugging situation.

He seemed to buy it though.

"Thank god he wasn't awake... that would've been really awkward," after that I waited some seconds, before I "woke up", moving and yawning for a bit, blinking some more and rubbing my eyes.

"Are we there yet?" I asked in my best attempt at a hoarse voice. This had to seem real, or he would realize.

"No, not yet at least," I nodded and kept my eyes focused on the world outside the window.

#paralyze fic #bakugou katsuki fanfic #bakugou x male #bakugou x male reader #male reader #reader insert #x reader

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blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk · 2 years ago

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so. i wear comfortable clothes (like pajamas and sweaters and stuff) when i get sad. and tbh i'm sad a lot so i wear those kinds of clothes like 5 out of 7 days of the week. can i request alois, maurice, and both ciels (have their actual names been released yet?? 😭) with a s/o like that?

aaaaaa all I can offer are virtual hugs and prayers for you that things will get better and you'll be less sad in the future

.. and some reactions from some bois who really love you! <3

I don't think we have official names yet, but, I just call O!Ciel "Ciel" and my headcanon name for R!Ciel is "Astre" :D

… Oh, his darling looks so adorable like that! Really, he just can’t help but gush a little when he sees them looking so relaxed. Those kinds of clothes are ones that he doesn’t often wear himself despite very much wanting to, so he’s almost jealous. He’s happy for them, though! He just… maybe wishes he could join them? He might have to do that one of these days. But, when it becomes apparent that they usually only do this when they’re not having a good day, he starts to get… pouty. Mostly because he’s worried. He starts trying to cheer them up, by dancing around and urging them to come dance with him, or attempting to coax them into coming into town with him. When that doesn’t work? He puts on comfy clothes and has a sad day with them. While he knows it’s not a long-term solution, and he’ll have to figure out a long-term solution, for the moment he thinks everything is just fine if he dresses comfortably and lies down next to them and cuddles and lets them feel sad. It’s not as bad when you’re sad alongside someone you love, right?

Hm, how… unfortunate? Is that how he wants to word this? It’s a bit of a disappointment, to see his darling putting forth a lack of effort when it comes to their appearance. If they’re going to be on his arm, he needs to make sure they look appropriately elegant just like him. It’s not like he’s trying to be insensitive; deep down, he’s a lot more concerned than he lets on. When someone doesn’t look after how they present themself to the world, surely that means something bigger is going on. That’s distressing to him for the simple fact that he cares very much about them. He takes a very direct approach, though he does try not to be cruel about it. (He’s not in the business of making (Name) even sadder, after all.) So his efforts tend more toward cajoling them into wearing something else, telling them that he’s going to have a ball going on tonight so they need to wear that new dress or suit he got them. He’s hoping that getting them dressed up and moving and all that will naturally bring them out of sadness. While he knows he needs to find a more sustainable way to help them… this is the best thing he can think of. Well, this, and lots of ducking behind walls so he can kiss them. ‘Soft’ clothes or no, he’ll keep them plenty comfortable.

Well, if nothing else, they know what they’re doing. Nobody else knows what’s best for another person, right? Except maybe a doctor. He’s unsure if his dear would need any kind of doctor for… this. It strikes him as odd that they seem to dress comfortably only when they’re feeling down mentally, and even odder that he can point to the pattern that spells out the fact that they feel like that a lot. He doesn’t say much, but one can almost see the gears in his head turning when he looks at them in their too-big sweater, as he tries to think of how best to approach the topic. He can’t very well go up and tell them to stop wearing those clothes and tell him why they’re sad or any of that. There comes a single order he gives Sebastian which is nigh impossible for his butler to follow: “Keep (Name) happy.” It isn’t so easy… it’s the only thing he can think to do, aside from kissing them and doing things he knows they like. He just makes sure to get them out as often as possible so they have a reason to wear other clothing, so that perhaps that in itself will cheer them up. All the while, he makes sure to be thinking of how best to help them, and ensuring they know he cares for them.

Haha, what on Earth are they doing? Attempting to violate every law of fashion all at once? Honestly, he doesn’t mind so much if his sweetheart dresses in a way that lets them be more comfortable… except that they do so around his friends. Whilst he’s with them. Of course they look very calm and they’re not wearing stiff or hard to fiddle with clothing. He’s definitely jealous. Still, he also is perhaps a little embarrassed that they dress so casually when with him. Not only does he want to be known as someone beautiful, which also necessitates put-together people being associated with him, it also… sort of concerns him? Why aren’t they taking care of themself and dressing up a little? Although he doesn’t expect them to be flawlessly dressed all the time, the kind of clothes they wear while sad are so dressed down, it’s like they don’t want to pick something else out. He tries to be kind about it, offering to pick an outfit for them or to please, please, please let him do their makeup and/or their hair! It’s a way to bond, but also to help them dress themself up a bit. It might seem kind of shallow; however, he truly is worried about them. He has to try something, doesn’t he?

#Black Butler #Kuroshitsuji #Alois #Astre #Ciel #Maurice #reaction #romantic #hurt/comfort #fluff #domestic #aaaaaaaa all good boys good boys they try~#one hell of a queue

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xthexsanctuaryx · 1 month ago

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{ summary: } emma is feeling insecure and goes to marc about it. based on the song "phobia" by savannah sgro { 3 of 3 } { pairing: } original character { emma harper } x marc spector { mentions of } emma harper x steven grant && emma harper x jake lockley { contents: } fluffy angst, hurt/comfort, insecurity, happyish ending { warnings: } none really { author's note: } I got really stuck on this song that reminded me so much of how emma feels about the boys, and so I decided to do a trilogy of "oneshots" based around the lyrics where each moon boy got a different lyric from emma. this is marc's. { word count: } 611 { taglist: } this is a repost so I'm leaving out the taglist { credits: } middle divider from @bernardsbendystraws

She’d been pacing in front of him for at least five minutes—or was it ten—trying to resist the urge of becoming—what she perceives as—irrational.

She was being irrational.

He’d given her no reason to believe the things that were racing through her mind. No, those things stemmed from a long history—a history of being left behind.

Eventually, she inevitably got to be too much. Or people got bored with her. Or any other number of reasons why people just didn’t stick around.

She blames herself for it of course.

Meanwhile, Marc sits on the couch watching her wear out the floor with a troubled expression etched into his features.

She’d said they needed to talk when he’d gotten home from a round of Uber driving. She hadn’t said about what, but clearly it wasn’t anything good.

That had been a good fifteen minutes ago.

When she starts to look more worse for the wear he finally speaks up himself.

“Please talk to me, baby…” He urges softly.

She almost jumps out of her skin, having been so lost in thought she almost forgot he was sitting there.

Her face scrunches up in silent distress.

“I promise we’ll figure out whatever it is—together…” He continues, resisting the urge to reach for her.

“I’m—I’m terrified…” She confesses almost inaudibly.

Marc keeps his tone soft and even, “of what, baby?”

Her face crumples a little again, sucking in a sharp breath as she barely holds back tears. Her voice begins to tremble despite her best efforts to keep it strong.

“That one day, you’re gonna wake up and get sick of me—that—” She inhales sharply.

“That I won’t be what you need anymore…” She finishes with a choked sob, burying her face in her hands as she begins to quietly cry.

Marc is swift to rise from where he sits, closing the distance between them in seconds.

He gently pulls her hands from her face, just so that he can take it into his own as she shakes.

“That is never going to happen…” He states firmly, wiping the tears that stream slowly down her cheeks.

She refuses to open her eyes, shaking her head as she coughs.

“Look at me, baby…”

She cracks her eyes open, her brows pulled painfully together as she looks on him pleadingly.

“I’m never going to get sick of you, I’m never going to stop wanting you, and I’m never going to stop needing you…” He pauses. “Those things are non-negotiable.”

“You can’t be sure—”

“I can and I am.” He cuts her off.

At his words, she breaks down into more forceful sobs, just trying to remain upright.

Again, Marc is quick to move in to cradle her, holding her safely and firmly against himself.

“I’m not going anywhere, baby—we’re not going anywhere. I promise.” He reassures her.

“What if you change your mind?” She asks brokenly, clinging desperately to him.

“Not possible…” He says, a sense of awe in his tone, a soft smile of pride lacing through his words. “You’re the love of our lives.”

She inhales a quiet sniffle, hugging herself tighter to him, pressing a grateful kiss to his heart through his shirt.

He withdraws just enough to wipe more tears from her face, looking her over.

“Someday you’re just gonna have to believe that…okay?”

She nods quickly, sniffling again, her voice small. “Okay…”

#moon knight #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight fanfic #moon knight fic #moon knight system #moon knight system x oc #moon boys #moon knight x oc #marc spector #marc spector x oc #muse: marc spector #muse: emma harper #temp tag: marc/emma #elle's writing #elle's one offs #{ that I won't be what you need }#{ trilogy } phobia #{ one shots }

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chat-no-no-noir · 4 months ago

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Chapter Two is here :3 even though I said I'd post on Sundays

Disclaimer: Technically underage drinking? (they are 20, which is legal in Paris, although in some places it's illegal), Depictions of violence, small description of a seggsual scene (MDNI)

Word Count: 3,817

Anything in italics is either the past or a dream sequence.

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

Chapter Two: Chat Blanc, My Old Friend.

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

It was the first few hours without Adrien by my side.

I sat near the middle of the Eiffel tower watching over the city. having completed my patrol and now enjoying my own company. The air was cool against my face, lightly flowing in the twinkling starry night. I knew I shouldn't worry about Chat Blanc, but he was a fate we narrowly missed. Even if he wasn't a threat anymore, having met in him the first place had shook me to my core.

I remember the first time I met Chat Blanc. Alix, the older version of her, had pulled me into her wormhole. She couldn't explain to me why I was there, just what I needed to do. "Capture the Akuma." I remember how barren it sounded on top of that building, before I could see what truly happened to Paris. No sound of cars or people walking and talking in the streets below made for an eerie silence. When Alix left, her portal closing, I truly felt alone, unsure of what I was dealing with. When my feet made it to the edge of the building and I saw what was below, I was horrified. An expansive ocean had covered most of Paris, only tall buildings peaking out of its path.

And I remember how I found him. It took me a bit, but eventually I found out why she had sent me. I didn't know at the time he was Adrien, just that he was Chat Noir. I had never felt so off about seeing him until I found him humming, his once dakr matte suit now shiny white. "Chat Noir?" I choke out. He turns to me with his signature smile- but his once comforting and inviting green eyes are now nothing more than empty blue husks. He stood from the edge of the building he sat on, "My lady, I thought you were gone." He moves toward me, and I have to fight the urge to back away. His smile doesn't reach those lifeless eyes. "I thought I'd never see you again."

When he goes to hug me, that's when I finally back away. "Chat Noir.. What's wrong with you?" My words stumble the same way my feet do, almost tripping me in the process. I wanted to ask how this happened, but the warning from Alix rang in my head:

"The less you know, the better."

"Kitty, please let me fix this." Gentleness was always the best way to get to Chat Noir, but I wasn't even sure if he was truly Chat Noir anymore. All I could do was try. "I can fix it now that you're here. I just need your miraculous." I shook my head. "No, you know I can't do that. But if you tell me where your akuma is, I can help you." His face twisted into anguish, tears hitting his eyes, "Please, my lady! You must. Chat Blanc destroyed our world." Chat Blanc? "You've been akumatized. Just tell me where it is, and I'll help you." I had never seen him cry before, and it made my heart hurt to see whatever pain he was in.

I slowly approach him, scanning my eyes across his suit. "Save me." His voice cracked with grief. Seeing tears falling down his face, I instinctively bring my hand up to wipe them away. I remember how much my heart pounded at that moment. Fearing him, all while sympathizing with the pain my partner was in. "Please tell me where the Akuma is." My voice is gentle as I wrap my hand around his bell. When I feel his hand grip mine tightly and fast, my fight or flight kicks in. "It's in here!" He jams my hand hard against his chest. I grab his legs with my own and twist, knocking us to the floor of the roof. I roll away to get back up, but he's already on top of me, grasping my wrists with a forcefulness I had never felt from him before.

I try to loosen his grip on me by flailing with my arms and legs, but he holds firm. A horrible feeling fills my gut, Chat Noir could overpower me if he wanted to. His gaze is extreme, and I have to look away. I feel his breath on my ear, as he moves in close to me. His breathing is fast and shaky. His voice is low, and he whispers into my ear, "You did this to me, Marinette."

I feel a hand touch my shoulder gently, forcing me back into reality. I grab the owner's arm and twist it back, looking up with fear. Chat Noir's eyes meet mine, his face twisted in pain. "Ah! Let me go." I gasped, letting go of his arm, "Oh my gosh, Chat Noir, I am so sorry. You scared me." My voice was frantic with apologies. He looks at me with concern before hesitantly sitting down on the rail. "I see that." He smiled, and the inviting feeling was back in his green eyes again. It helped me to settle down. "I'm really sorry," I repeat, moving closer to him, our fingers grazing the other. "You thought I was an Akuma?" I shrug, trying to play it off. "I was daydreaming, got caught off guard."

"I think it's classified as night dreaming." I giggle at his childish humor. "I thought you were supossed to be at Nino and Alya's?" He wraps an arm around me, and I accept it, looking down at the twinkling city. "Don't wanna go without you I guess. If you don't wanna go, we can just chill out at my place or yours and watch a movie." I bite my inner cheek, unsure. I probably shouldn't since I'm in a mood, but I didn't wanna ruin his night. "Yeah, we headed there now?" He shrugs, "Only if you are done with patrol." I nod quickly and smile devilishly, "I'll beat you there!" I let myself fall off the building, my yoyo at the ready to swing me into the night. I beat him to the alleyway outside of their building, detransforming. "So unfair." He says as he transforms back into Adrien. "We didn't start at the same time." I roll my eyes and walk past him, our shoulders bumping.

He grabs my arm to stop me, and I feel goosebumps forming. He could overpower me if he wanted to. It played over and over in my mind again as I stared at him. "Winner has to get escorted by a beautiful model." He let's go of me, and holds out his arm for us to link. "Oh? How lucky of me." I force a smile to my face and wrap my arm into his. We walk into the building and up the elevator in silence. I'm thankful he plays my actions off as being a tense superheroine. When we get to the apartment door, Nino opens it with glee. "Hey, buddy!" Nino was drunk. Behind him, Alya came up with a disappointed look. "He wanted to pregame you coming over. But me? Nuh uh." I snort with laughter, Adrien joining in. Alya was tipsy, I knew that for a fact. We had gone drinking once a month since we graduated, and while she could better control the slur in her voice, there was always a small hint of it. I unlink myself from Adrien, the first to walk in as Nino moved aside.

Adrien and Nino wasted no time hopping on the Xbox with new drinks in hand. Alya pulls me out to the terrace, where two fluffy chairs stare out into the night. I cracked my drink open while Alya had a half-full can resting on the ground by her feet. "Now that it's just us, I gotta ask. How?" I sighed taking a sip from my can. "I finally just confessed to him, I couldn't take it anymore." Alya shakes her head. "I mean, how did you work up the courage to tell him your Ladybug?" I nervously look out into the twinkling lights of the city. "I guess the same way I worked up the courage to tell you?"

As much as I wanted to blurt out that he was Chat Noir, and that we revealed, I didn't want to betray his trust, especially when he had spent so long being my trustful sidekick. Alya was in thought, taking a long sip of her drink. She eyes me for a while, making me nervous again. "You look like shit." Her voice is blunt, and I give an amused smile. "Thanks." Alya nods. "Are you okay? You were in a better mood earlier. Did he do something to you?" I shook my head, "No, of course not. I guess I'm just thinking about things." We fall into silence again, drinking our drinks and looking at groups of people on the street below, thinning out as the time passes. I look at her and sigh, ready to break the silence once again. "Did I ever tell you about Chat Blanc?"

Alya narrows her eyes. "Uh, not that I know of." I stand up. "Let me get another drink, and I'll tell you the story." I head back inside to grab a new drink, passing the boys in the process. They giggle at the screen, and I count the drinks between them. Adrien has already packed down a can and a half, another unopened one nearby. His dad only let him drink expensive wine when they had fancy professional dinners, so when he finally moved out and got his own apartment, we had gotten him a case. I remember how bad his hangover was, opting to care for him, even though I hate sick people. He watches me walk past him and turns away from the game. "Hey, how you doin'?" I smile and give a thumbs up. "Just enduring some girl talk." I hated lying to him, his smile was so innocent.

I wish I could be innocently happy like him, but the curse of being Ladybug was knowing that your partner turned into a monster in another timeline all because of you. It wasn't exactly on the job listing. I grab the drink off the counter and go over to him, letting him kiss me on my cheek before returning to Alya. "Okay, so you said Chat Blanc? What the hell is that?" She asks. I crack open my second can and take a quick sip. "Okay, so I think it was a year ago or so, right? Our future's Bunnyx pulled me into her wormhole." Alya looks shocked and fascinated. "Really? For what?"

"I had to deevilize an akumatized version of Chat Noir. It was... traumatizing? I mean, I thought I got over it-- I think I must've just shoved it down because today it's coming back up and hitting me." Alya grabs my hand and squeezes it. "I'm sorry, Marinette." I nod and look away bitterly. It felt good to tell her that, but it would have felt better if I could tell her why it was really bothering me. "Does Chat Noir know?" I shake my head slowly, tears filling my eyes. I couldn't imagine how Adrien would react if he knew. And no matter what, I wouldn't tell him. I'd rather he live in bliss while I continue to carry the mental load. I didn't care if it would make me sick later; I needed to down my drink, anything to forget before it got too overwhelming.

"It's getting chilly, we should head inside." Alya says, standing up and holding out a hand for me to grab. I grab her hand, letting her hoist me up. She stops at the double door and turns back to me. "I know you'd rather deal with your problems alone, but you know I'm always here for you." Her words sober me for a moment. I wipe my tears and walk back into the warm apartment with her. Even though it felt short, we had been out there for an hour. We enter the living area to see Adrien and Nino had started an arm wrestling contest. "Hey, girls!" Adrien said cheerfully, slamming Nino's hand onto the table. "Hey, that's glass, be careful!" Alya scolded them and smacked Nino lightly upside the head. "How many did you drink?" I ask Adrien. "Oh man, uhm. I'm on my fourth or fifth." I smile. "You okay?" He slurs, "Did I do something wrong?" I shook my head. "I'm just feeling tired." He's smiling again. "Yurso pretty, can I kiss you?" I grab his cheeks and give him a peck. When I pull away, he frowns, wanting more.

"Mind if I head back to your apartment?" I ask him, and he nods, "I'll join you soonish, 'kay?" I rub his cheek. "You sure you'll be able to make it home okay?" He nods, staring at my lips. I sigh and kiss him one more time. "Okay, headed home now, see you guys." Nino was adamant that someone take me home, but Alya assured him I had a ride already, AKA me being Ladybug. When I get back to Adrien's apartment, it's quiet. I sighed deeply, crashing onto his bed. "Try not to let it bother you, Marinette. You prevented Chat Blanc, remember?" Tikki says, lying on my pillow next to me. I nod, my arm covering my eyes. "I know. I just have to get over it." I turn towards the inner side of the bed, where Adrien was supposed to be. I felt like I was drowning in what-ifs, and I wanted him to pull me out so badly.

I wasn't sure when I fell asleep, but when I opened my eyes, my blood ran cold.

"Marinette!" I'm on the ground of the same roof I met him on, my body curled the same way it was when I laid down. Chat Blanc's face was dangerously close to mine, his blue eyes startling. "Adrien-" "Chat Blanc. It's been a while, hasn't it?" I scramble up, staggering back away from him, my face scrunching into anguish. "I fixed you. Why am I here?" He turns on his back and his arms close in on himself as he pats his chest. "You won't admit it yet, but I'll always be here."

"Spots on!" I yell, instinctively grabbing for my yoyo. But nothing happened. I look down to see i'm still in my civilian clothes and tug quickly on my ears, a lack of earrings. My heart furiously pounds against my chest. "Did you take them?" I ask frantically. He ignores me as he stands. "Come, I have to show you something." He grabs my arm, and I try to pull away, but his grip tightens. I fight him all the way to the edge of the building where he stops. "Don't fight it." He tugs my waist close to him, and I squirm. When his claws dig into my waist I yelp and finally stop. He walks off the building, both of us falling through the air. When his feet hit the soft ground below, he finally lets me go.

"Your just a dream, you aren't real." My voice cuts through the quiet air, and he circles me, smirking. "Is that how your brain copes? Can't handle what you've done to me?" My breathing stops, my chest heavy with grief. Alix never told me why he did what he did, but he alluded to the fact that it was my fault. It wasn't my job to know why, but it ate me up inside not knowing. I could only cram it back into my brain for so long, and now I was being punished for it. He's behind me, and I can feel his breath on my neck, putting his hands on my shoulders. His claw's are much longer than I remember, the sharp ends poking through my shirt, a dangerous reminder of how hurt I could get.

"I wouldn't hurt you, Adrien." He snickers, "Oh? Look at me!" His voice is loud, and I recoil within myself. "Look what you did to me! You made me do this to you." He spins me around with force and I come face to face with myself. She's a permanent statue of rock, face forever paralyzed with fear. Her hands were outstretched to me as if she was asking me if I could help her. "Adrien wouldn't hurt me either. Not the Adrien I know." Chat shakes his head and yells, "Claws in." My head spins as I stare at the Adrien beside me. He looked the same as the one I had come to know. "Look at her." His voice is bitter with anger. "Look at what I did to her- what he could do to you!" I watch as he walks up to her, cusping her face with his hands. Tears fall down his face, mourning for his own Marinette.

I felt sick, my body frozen with fear. His eye's linger on her for a little longer before he turns his head back to me. Everything in my body tells me to run, the way his gaze looms over me. But I can't. "Claw's out." He says, returning to Chat Blanc. He approaches me again, and I realize how stark our height difference is. He moves his head down towards me, and stops only centimeters from my face. "I'm Adrien as much as Adrien is me." He grab's my cheeks, claws digging in painfully. "You're hurting me..." I choke out, tears falling down my cheeks. He lets me go, and I feel I can move once again, stumbling back onto my butt. I grab my stinging cheeks, pulling my hand away to see drops of crimson blood. "I'm sorry. I had to prove it to you. Prove to you what I'm capable of." My body begins to shake pathetically. I was supossed to be his equal, but here with Chat Blanc I felt overpowered.

"Why are you punishing me?" It wasn't even directed at him; it was directed at my brain for concocting this horror. Chat moves back to my statue and rubs her cheek, whispering erratically. I wasn't sure how long I'd sat there, staring at him do this. I curled into myself, praying that if I still my body enough, I would finally wake up. He turns back to me, his eyes much softer. He walks over and sits down, gently rubbing my hair. I don't fight back this time. I stare at my statue with hot tears falling down my cheeks. "Do you think I'll hurt you again?" My question goes unanswered. Chat grabs my face, wiping blood away. With his voice barely above a whisper he lean's close, "Wake up."

My eye's shoot open and I stare ahead at Adrien in the doorway, who has fallen over. "Adrien?" I croak out, and he sits up. "Damn, I wake you?" He slurs out, as I stand to help him up. "What time is it?" I ask and he squints at the clock, his glasses nowhere to be seen. "Like, man, I'm not sure what that says, uhm, 12 am?" I turn back to the glow of the clock, 2:30 illuminated in red in the dark room. "It's 2:30, did you just return home?" He nods as I help him to the bed, he flops down, pulling me with him. His smile is wide as his hug tightens around me. "So cute. Didjah wanna be my girlfren'?" I crack a smile, glad that he was here to wake me from my nightmare. I pat his face softly. "You're crushing me big guy." He lets go and I roll on my side of the bed.

"And, I am your girlfriend, remember?" He closes his eyes thinking, then opens them again. "Oh! Right! You ARE my girlfren'!" He's gushing again, the same way he had when we did get together. I kiss his cheek, and he turns back to me, "I'm soooo glad we're dating. I waited forever." He pulls me into a kiss, and I accept it, my heart fluttering like an idiot. But he isn't done, his kiss turns into one, then two, then many. Each became more hungrier, and I accepted it, my mind becoming distracted by all the things we could do. By now his arms are on either side of me holding himself up. he's moving down towards my neck, and a shaky breath escapes my lips. He begins to attack it with kisses, and I'm panting quietly. I crack my eyes open, my fuzzy gaze landing upon my arms around his back. He's wearing the white shirt he had on all day, but my brain didn't care about that fact. It thought he was Chat Blanc.

"Look at what I did to her- what he could do to you!"

I suck in a sharp breath and my body stiffens. Adrien stops and looks at me. I hope he doesn't notice how panicked I had become. "You good?" I shake my head, "My stomach hurts." It's not the truth, but it's all he needs to hear to get off of me. "I'm sorry, I got carried away." He lies beside me, gently petting my hair. "I liked it, I just don't feel good..." "Needa trashcan?" I shake my head, "I just wanna sleep if that's okay?" He nods, and wraps me up in his comforter. "Whatever you want, tell me if you need somethin'." I close my eyes, and match my breaths with his to calm myself. Eventually his breathing get's slower, and I know he's fallen asleep. I'm being pathetic, letting Chat Blanc ruin my whole day. Pathetic to think Adrien could ever hurt me.

He had stopped as soon as he knew I didn't want it anymore, and even moved to take care of me even though I should have been attending to him. I crack open my eyes to look at his gentle sleeping form. I caress his soft blonde hair, and feel tears fill my eyes. I can't think about him like that.

He lays close by my side, unaware that it was him who made me feel this way. I don't fall back asleep, afraid of what's waiting on the other side.

#miraculous ladybug #chat blanc #adrinette #angst #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #ladybug and chat noir

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