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little-annie · 4 months

Text

Tape N⁰1

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Steddie | 4.6k 🔞

Read on ao3 ⤵️

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Okay, so maybe Steve Harrington was a little, just a touch, Bi- Curious.

A term he'd learnt from Robin when he'd mentioned his curious thoughts from his teen years-

Everyone feels this way, right? Like, guys dream about other guys but also girls, so that's not gay, right? And it's totally normal to feel my heartbeat pick up when a man gets naked on TV, right? Everyone feels that way about Johnny Depp, he's a good looking guy.

-and she explained to him, quite simply, "Steve, honey, that's kinda gay." To which he responded with a simple "Huh," and then was instructed to maybe watch a gay porn and see how it makes him feel. He supposed it was the safest option anyway. Going out to a bar and picking up a guy could go wrong in more ways than one. He liked his face, thought it was quite pretty actually and didn't want to have it rearranged along with his brain for yet another time. At least with watching a tape, he was safe and not using another person for his self exploration. Well, like with porn that's what the actors expected and consented to upon filming. Right? So what's the harm?

—

Their morning was the usual, Steve waking up at the ass crack of dawn to go out for a run, getting home just in time to witness Eddie shuffling from the kitchen to the living room, settling onto the couch with his feet tucked beneath him, holding a large mug that contained probably a pound of sugar and a few dozen ounces of coffee. His hair was ungodly, smashed flat on one side and frizzy to all hell on the other. Always ringless and clad in simple grey sweatpants or sometimes just his boxers. The sight alone made Steve's stomach flutter, let alone the fact that he was the only person on the planet that got to witness Eddie in this form.

Sleepy and a touch grumpy because "Jesus H. Christ, Steve, close the damn blinds, it's too early for sunshine,” Eddie was never a morning person or for as long as Steve knew him anyway. The young metalhead getting out of bed and wanting pure silence and dim lighting to slowly ease him into the land of the living, plus needing a terrifying amount of caffeine and sugar to consider him a functional human being, maybe some people would think he was a dick in the morning but if Steve was honest with himself, he kinda loved it.

On the mornings where Eddie didn't come shuffling out of his room like a grumpy gremlin, maybe because he had a nightmare and couldn't sleep and didn't want to wake Steve up for the third time that week to climb into his bed for moral support, Steve would brew him a cup of coffee, make his favourite for breakfast (chocolate chip pancakes) and knock gently on his door, to say a quiet good morning and set the tray of goodies on the floor in front of Eddie's door for when he got up.

But this morning, the pair had some time for each other, a rare occurrence for their mornings. Steve's classes didn't start until 1pm and Eddie was up before he'd left. Steve drew the blinds closed, allowing only a gentle flow of sunshine to enter the room and sat on the opposite end of the couch before taking a chance to talk to Eddie before 9am.

Gently nudging the other man's thigh with his socked foot, Steve gained Eddie's attention, though his expression with something combined of a scowl and smile, like he was trying to keep up his grumpy morning routine but didn't entirely hate Steve.

"You sleep alright last night?"

The doe eyed man simply shook his head before he took a long sigh, slouching deeper into the couch and spoke, voice still gravely from sleep or more likely the lack of, "No, but I have to mail a few packages and actually have shit to do today, so here I am, amongst the living far too early for a man who only just fell asleep at 4am."

That wasn't totally out of the ordinary, Eddie was a bit of a night owl, but he looked exhausted, dark circles under his eyes and complexion somehow whiter than usual. "Nightmares?" Steve asked, knowing the answer was more likely than not a yes.

Eddie hummed an affirmative, taking another sip of his coffee and scowling out the window when he heard a car alarm outside begin to go off

"You know, if it still helps, you're always more than welcome to wake me up or join me. I don't mind. I'd rather lose a few minutes myself while you climb into bed versus you losing several hours." If anything, it made Steve's nights easier too, he still had nightmares but after years of coping with them on his own, he had a system down. Wake up, have a shower, maybe go for a walk and just start his day from there, as long as it was after 4 am anyway. But with Eddie by his side, he felt safe, hardly had nightmares when the man was in his bed and conscious of it or not, Eddie always seemed to know when they did occur. Rolling over in bed to pull Steve against his chest or carding his fingers through his hair.

But last time that happened, they woke up nothing short of tangled together, morning wood ever present and Eddie quite literally springing from bed upon the realisation. At first Steve was hurt, but like he kinda gets it now, he knows Eddie's gay, the guy probably felt guilty or something of that sort upon realising their predicament. But it's not like he knew Steve was (probably/ realising he was at the time) Bi-Sexual and honestly was kinda into the metalhead. Hell, if Steve woke up hard and cuddled into a friend he thought was straight, his reaction would probably be the same.

"Eddie I mean it,-" Steve persisted after receiving a noncommittal nod as an answer, "-if you're worried about last time,-" Eddie's gaze shifted to meet his once again, amber eyes hooded by dark thick lashes, a subtle blush creeping up the young man's cheeks, "- don't be, I didn't mind."

"You didn't mind," Eddie quietly scoffs, "-you didn't mind your raging homosexual of a roommate getting a stiffy in your bed? Ha, sure Harrington. Let alone it digging into your thigh?" He scoffs again, averting his eyes back to a random stain on the carpet in front of him, trying to hide the blush on his cheeks behind his coffee mug.

Shrugging, feigning confidence and totally not freaking out over his minor confession, Steve remains persistent, "Didn't mind it."

It was then that he watched Eddie's nose crinkle and brow furrow, an indecipherable look on his face that only grew more puzzling to understand as his eyes shifted back to meet Steve's. Almost like he was searching for something but wasn't quite sure what.

They remained silent for a few minutes, the ambient sound of the city bleeding through their brick walls and into their bones, the sound of coffee being sipped and shallow almost anxious breathing.

Then it occurred to Steve, if Eddie was going to be out this morning maybe he'd finally have time to watch one of those tapes Robin suggested. "Hey, um, wh- when are you gonna be back?"

Eddie hummed in question, taking a sip of his coffee, refusing to look at the man next to him.

"When will you be back? I uh, I could try to have lunch ready for you before I leave for class." Not that he wasn't asking an honest question, he was, he'd probably pop a frozen lasagna in the oven to be ready for when Eddie got home, but he also wanted to know how much time he had to himself for his 'research' while Eddie was out.

"Eleven, maybe." Eddie quietly spoke into his mug, downing the rest of his coffee, getting up and quietly padding back to the kitchen.

Before Eddie could disappear back into his room, Steve spoke up glancing at the stack of boxes piled by their front door, "Okay, well, I'll have something ready for lunch before I leave then. Hey, uh, you need some help getting those boxes down to your van?”

Eddie worked his jaw, seeming to consider the offer before drawing in a silent breath and waving Steve off with a flick of the wrist, "Don't you worry your pretty little head Harrington, I got it."

—

Twenty minutes later Eddie was making his way out the door, boxes in hand as he smiled and wished Steve a good rest of his morning.

And okay, so maybe the indication of how excited Steve was to watch those tapes should have been proof enough.

Perched by the window his heart hammered in his chest as he waited to watch Eddie drive off in his van. No more than seconds later did Steve find himself scrambling to his room, digging out the tape from under his bed and popping it into the VCR in the living room.

Much too eager to even take the extra few steps to the couch, Steve plopped down feet from the TV and sat crisscrossed, waiting for the tape to roll.

Whoever had the tape before (which ew, now that Steve thought about that, hopefully the guy washed his hands) neglected to rewind the tape and apparently so did the video store. Without much warning the deep growl of moans began to pour from the TV in front of him and a blur of bare, tanned, hairy skin danced across the TV. It took a moment for Steve to process what was actually happening, but at least he wasn't appalled so that meant something he guessed and the sound of a man's deep groan made his briefs tighten, but immediately he knew this specific tape wasn't for him. He supposed he didn't find the men attractive, they were good looking, sure, but cookie cutter and lacking anything that he'd consider to be unique, alluring. No tattoos, pricing, scarring. Nothing that set them apart from the rest he supposed.

With less reservation then he probably should have had, Steve popped the tape out and without a thought pushed to look back in his and Eddie's tape collection. Behind the mix of horror, action and rom-coms, Steve found Eddie's not so secret, secret stash of porn tapes.

Was this over stepping some boundary ... maybe… but Eddie was a gay man, supposedly one with taste so it couldn't hurt to look. Out of the handful of tapes, they were surprisingly similar to the one Steve just ejected. Tanned, muscular, hairy men, some in gym shorts or cropped sports jerseys, but there was one, unmarked black case and a sticky tab on the tape that read "N⁰. 1" . It was weird but weird had to mean something other than cookie cutter right?

So Steve popped the tape in.

Sitting on the floor in front of the TV, Steve watched as the static turned to a dark, poorly lit bedroom, the only light being that of a lamp covered with a hanky. The low droll of metal music played in the background, audible enough to drown out the steps of the man walking into the frame. He was hardly visible, the dark glow of the room set a beautiful cast of shadows over his toned back and mess of long dark curls.

Already Steve was intrigued, this tape had a set of mystery, darkness and need. He felt his heart hammer in his chest sending the blood rushing south and he hadn't even seen anything other than this man's backside. But what he had seen was breathtaking.

Yeah this would do.

Before he missed anything too important Steve checked the clock, he still had over an hour until Eddie got home. With more haste than necessary, he ran to his bedroom, retrieving a box of tissues and a bottle of lube. By the time he settled back on the floor in front of the TV, the man on the screen was laying on a bed, leaning back on his elbow as his one hand lazily stroked his generous length. Steve wished he could see the guy's face, wanted to watch his eyes and the twist of his lips as he let subtle gasps escape into the air, but the man's identity was hidden in the shadows. His lower abdomen to toes only visible in the frame.

Fucking good enough though.

Soon enough Steve mirrored the man's position, leaning back on an elbow, sweatpants wrangled just low enough to expose himself, heavily lubed hand matching the steady pace in front of him. Breathy gasps began to climb their way up his chest while he continued to take in the body before him. A slender toned frame and subtle muscles flexing with every twist of a wrist.

'Fuckin’… Christ …' followed by louder gasps and shaky breaths, the voice on the screen groaned, its owner's pace quickening once again, the bed beginning to gently shake under his haste.

The man's voice alone nearly sent Steve over the edge, for some reason it sounded so familiar but good god did it do something to him. "Oh fuck," Steve gasped, digging his nails into the carpet below him, toes curling and ecstacy boiling in his veins. He was so close. Moving quickly Steve pulled his shirt up his chest, exposing a blank canvas ready to be painted. Biting his lip, until nearly painful, he moaned along with the man on the screen, hardly being able to keep his eyes open from pleasure alone.

He wanted to watch the other man come goddammit, he wasn't going to finish until he did. Thankfully he didn't need to wait much longer, staggered movements and a deep rattling groan later Steve joined the man in toppling over the edge. The sound alone made his bones ache for more.

Chest and stomach painted white, air hot and breaths staggered, Steve took a minute to collect himself. Listening to the man on the screen pant, barely catching the smattering across his lower abdomen, Steve wanted to crawl through the TV screen and lick the dark haired beauty clean. Though apparently he was capable of that himself, moving into the light enough to expose a dim shadow of his lower face the man lifted his hand to his mouth, licking off any and all traces of his own release with a deep groan of satisfaction.

"Holy fuck," Steve gasped, out of breath and taking more effort than he deemed typically necessary to lean forward and stop the tape to rewind it. As the VHS spun back to its beginning, Steve took his time lazily cleaning his chest and stomach, come getting stuck in his copious amounts of body hair as he went. He'd have to shower before he went to class for sure.

With a groan and shaky knees Steve got off the floor, tucking himself back into his sweats when he remembered he'd promised Eddie lunch. "Fuckin' Munson," he huffed to himself, knowing for a fact if he didn’t feed Eddie the man would forget to himself. Making his way to the bathroom to wash his hands and start a shower, Steve soon found his way back to the kitchen, popping the frozen lasagna into the oven and heading back into the living room to clean up the disaster he left behind.

Shoving the tapes back in their designated spots, porn in the back, rom-coms in the front, it eventually looked as if Steve was never there. Minus the image burned into his brain of his dick in hand and another man's body on TV.

Carrying on like normal, almost an hour later Steve found himself in the shower thinking of the man again. Long dark hair, lean and toned figure, a raspy groan that'll forever be ringing in his ears and how badly he'd wished he could have seen his face and feel his skin beneath his fingertips. Maybe the guy had more tapes. Oof, imagine that. Would it be weird to ask Eddie if he had any more of this guy?

Probably.

After painting the walls of the shower white and gasping so aggressively his throat was sore, Steve wrapped a towel around his waist, the fabric irritating his overly spent cock and padded back into the main living area.

Perched on a bar stool at the kitchen island he couldn't help but chuckle to himself knowing he'd have to give Robin an update on his research findings. That'd make for an interesting conversation. But before he could even begin to dwell on the topic the buzzer to the oven sounded signalling the Lasagna was ready.

Hair damp and still only in a towel, Steve made his way to the stove where he pulled on a pair of oven mitts and opened the oven door to feel the rush of heat wash over him. Typically soothing, the warmth was a bit much after his recent activities so with a huff of lingering exhaustion Steve removed the lasagna. And because his mind was too preoccupied with 'Holy Shit, I'm 100% Bi-Sexual & Jesus I just watched Eddie's porn,' he didn't quite hear the door to the apartment open but he sure heard as Eddie's loud, sing songy voice bellowed, "Honey, I'm-"

Though he heard it, it scared the shit out of him too, causing him to jump and brush the metal pan against his gut. Searing his skin he tossed the pan on the stove top with a yelp, "Ah! FUCK!"

The motion of the jump in pain also caused his towel to hit the floor.

"Steve you alright?" Eddie called from the entryway where he was probably toeing off his shoes, voice bleeding concern before he rushed to the kitchen.

Buttass naked and cursing under his breath at the pain blooming on his stomach, Steve tried to gather his bearings before Eddie entered the room, "Don't come in here, give me a sec."

But of course it was too late, Steve was bent over grabbing his towel, ass facing out of the kitchen, pointing directly to Eddie who was rounding the corner and stifled a rather obvious giggle at the sight before him.

"Fuck man," Steve huffed in embarrassment, standing upright wrapping his towel securely around his waist, wincing when the fabric brushed his fresh burn.

Cheeks growing redder by the second, it took Eddie a moment to meet Steve's eye but when he did, he couldn't help but appear concerned, "You okay there, Big Boy?"

Steve deadpanned, moving to the sink to get a cool cloth to soothe his burn, "Please do not call me Big Boy after you just saw me naked"

"All I saw was your ass! Nothing else, I swear!"

"Uh-Huh," Steve laughed to himself, wincing once again as the miniscule movement of his skin pulled at his new brand.

The room silent for all of two seconds, Eddie took the time to glance over Steve's nearly nude form while he searched for the source of the younger's outcry, only noticing the blooming red mark above Steve's towel as the man moved to drench a rag in the running water.

"Oh, you burnt yourself," Eddie's voice was concerned, caring, almost soothing in itself. With careful steps he approached Steve who was now leaning against the sink, cool cloth pressed to his scorched skin. Eddie was close, his breath would have ghosted Steve's skin if he stepped any closer, the atmosphere suddenly felt so intimate, the wooden floorboards creaking under his feet with every motion. Eddie's hand hovered mere inches from Steve's that held the cloth, "Let me take a look?" He asked, looking up at Steve through thick eye lashes.

Butterflies swarming in his gut, Steve nodded, eyes never once leaving Eddie's face while he pulled the cool cloth back to reveal his burn. He watched as Eddie's lips turned down and he quietly spoke, "Oh Stevie," the man's eyes remained on the brand as he gently squeezed Steve's wrist and continued, "wait right here, I think I have some burn cream in my room."

What Eddie had burn cream for, Steve didn't entirely know, but he didn't question it, the man was a walking hazard so he supposed it made sense to have precautionary supplies. Before he could ponder the thought much longer Eddie had returned with a small tube in hand.

He was back in Steve's space once again, but now his eyes were focused on Steve's, watery from the pain and pupils still blown wide from his post release bliss. Eddie pursed his lips into a flat line, waving the tube of burn cream between them before he quietly spoke, a nervous tinge to his voice and a blush to his cheeks, "You, uh, you want to do this or you want me to?"

Really Steve should have thought about it more, he was still only wrapped in a towel, dick and balls, a gentle breeze from being revealed or truthfully jolted back to life in what would be an even more embarrassing turn of events, but he didn't think about it much more than that. The want to have Eddie take care of him, forcing the word from his lips before he could second guess himself.

"You," he quietly breathed, knowing his cheeks probably matched the colour of the burn on his tummy.

Eddie swallowed, eyes searching Steve's, working his jaw for a beat before he confirmed, "Yeah?"

Steve nodded, the feeling of butterflies in his gut feeling comparable to a tornado.

"Okay," Eddie gave a single tight nod, eyes focusing on the sink while he waved Steve off to the side, "scooch over then Sugar, I need to wash my hands first."

The nicknames weren't anything new, but they still made the blood in Steve's cheeks churn, he loved them, probably more than he should honestly. But he listened, stepping off to the side while Eddie scrubbed his hands clean, tube of burn cream pinched between his front teeth.

And then he turned towards Steve, cheeks red while he gave him a nervous smile and softly spoken, "Let me know if it hurts too much, ‘kay?"

Steve nodded and tried his damndest to suppress the shiver that racked his body as Eddie stepped back into his space, placing one hand on his bare hip, cool rings a welcome contrast to his flushing skin while he steadied Steve. With soft, gentle movements, Eddie brushed the cream over Steve's burn, if it didn't hurt so much he'd probably be suppressing a moan as opposed to a wince.

Eddie bent closer to the abrasion, checking it over, dull breath barely ghosting over Steve's abs, "You're staying home today okay? I want to keep an eye on that."

And if Eddie was being selfish, wanting to take care of Steve for a day, that was his own secret to keep.

Standing up, Eddie turned to wash his hands in the sink, looking over his shoulder to talk to Steve, "Go put on some sweats, no shirt, we don't want fabric clinging to that and I'll pop in a movie for us."

Steve knew there was no point in arguing but if he remembered right, Eddie had shit to do and he voiced that concern, to which the metalhead responded, "Don't worry your pretty little head. I got my stuff mailed, everything else can wait. Now go get changed, I'll meet you back in the living room."

So that's what Steve did, changed into a pair of sweats he wasn't entirely sure were his or Eddie's, passed on a shirt and settled onto the couch to wait for his roommate. A few minutes later the older man returned in comfy clothes himself, a beer in each pocket, weighing his sweat pants down to a dangerous depth, dark hair peeking out from between the cropped band shirt and hemline of Eddie pants. He deposited two plates and beer onto the coffee table then proceeded to move towards the TV, evidently plopping down where Steve jacked off an hour ago. He picked through the movies until he settled on some Rom-Com.

He turned back to Steve with a smile, "I know, not quite my jam, but you're injured so I guess I'll concede."

Eddie joined Steve on the couch where they cracked a beer and watched the movie in silence until the lasagna had cooled enough to the point where they could actually eat, to which Steve groaned and teased Eddie about his odd choice of topping his own lasagna with Ranch, like a psychopath.

They continued to playfully banter back and forth for the remainder of the movie, Steve nudging Eddie with a socked foot anytime he said something dumb (read: something that made the butterflies in Steve's stomach worse.)

And that's how they spent their day, watching movies, teasing one another and eventually doing the dishes and laundry together. Several movies and a few loads of laundry in, they found themselves perched on the fire escape, night sky hanging above them, backs against the warm brick wall and asses aching from the metal grate beneath them. Shoulders and thighs pressed against one another they smoked in silence, taking in the sounds of the city around them.

"Today was nice," Steve softly spoke, shuffling to sleepily lean his head on Eddie's shoulder, wincing as his burn rubbed against the fabric of his sweatpants in the confined position.

Eddie stilled for a moment, breath hitching while Steve sunk deeper into his position. Eventually taking a shaky breath, he settled and replied, "Aside from burning yourself?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah it was hey?" Eddie's hand found its way to Steve's hair where he gently carded through Steve's once famous locks, "Wish we could do this more often."

Leaning into the touch and ever so slowly melting from the sensation alone, Steve quietly asked, "Why don't we?"

Eddie shrugged, jostling all of the parts of Steve that rested against him until he came up with an answer, "Guess we're both just so busy."

"Well let's not be so busy." Steve yawned before drifting into a momentary slumber, nuzzling deeper into Eddie's shoulder as the city around them soon joined.

—

Later that night Eddie helped to wash Steve's burn and reapply the burn cream, adding a bandage to it for the night to shield it from the blankets that could potentially rub against it and cause irritation. With burning cheeks and a whirlwind of butterflies in their tummies both men found their ways to their own bedrooms, settling in for the evening, reminiscing the last several hours they'd spent with one another. They couldn't remember the last time they'd had a day like that, if they'd even had. But they both knew it was nice, something they could get used to, something they wanted more than just in a blue moon.

That night Steve dreamt of calloused hands brushing over his skin and the moans of a man he'd only heard on the TV.

While Eddie, the night owl, stayed up until the early hours of the morning, withering in his bed under the dark glow of a hanky covered lamp, hand clasped over his mouth to silence his sounds. Simultaneously completing his 'work' for the day and adding to his (and now Steve's) not so secret porn stash beneath the living room TV.

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violettduchess · 11 months

Note

I am so in love with your Comte domestic au, I have read it so many times! What about a continuation for au week? It would have to be the "free space day," so if you have something in mind, obviously disregard this. But what about more domestic with Comte and his family spending time together? Or maybe for the soul mate au, it could take place before your other au fic, where Comte finds his soul mate? Oooh, or it could still be soul mates, but the kids are grown, and he's reflecting on big moments they've spent together?

Anyway... obviously, just delete this if you're not taking requests anymore or if you don't wanna use them. Sorry this got so long.

A/N: Hello anon! Here you go! This is a Soulmate au explaining how Comte met the mother of his children from this Domestic Bliss au from last years event! (and to the anon who asked for Comte and Bookstore au and the anon who asked for Comte and Coffee shop au....I combined them all 💜)

An entry for @xxsycamore and @queengiuliettafirstlady 's Different Universe Same Love CCC

Comte x female reader

WC: 1349

Inked into the skin of your right shoulder, your black and white tree tattoo reaches towards the sky with its bare, spindly branches that echo the gangling shape of spider legs. You chose the image after going for a walk on a stark winter's morning. Something about it resonated with you, echoing the vacuity of your lonely heart.

You’re shelving the latest bloodsucking Young Adult novel, breathing in that delectable new paper smell, when a voice rich as caramel, interrupts, asking if you could please direct him towards the foreign literature. You turn to find yourself looking into arresting, honey-colored eyes set in a face that jerks your heart awake from its lonesome stasis. It begins beating a lively, almost frantic rhythm in your chest.

You give him directions even as you try to fit all the pieces of this beautiful man together in your mind: wavy dark blond hair, slanted cheekbones, lips that smile easily and with such warmth. He thanks you but doesn’t move. Neither do you. The moment your eyes met, something took its first breath, something cocooned deep in the chambers of your hearts and sparked to life by your connection, like the fertile meeting of sunlight and water.

A few minutes later you have a date to meet for coffee.

It feels so much larger than it sounds.

That night, as you lay in bed, dreams inhabited by a man with desert eyes, your tattoo changes. The branches are peppered with small, newborn leaves the color of limes. Fragile. Delicate. Hopeful.

The coffee shop is small, a hidden gem tucked into a side street you’ve never ventured down. You arrive too early, a habit you usually pride yourself on but now is causing waves of anxiety to rush through you. Will you look too eager? Who cares because it is truth. You are eager. You are so very eager to see Comte again.

And then, as if responding to the siren call of your longing, he appears in the doorway, gilded in sunlight. He looks damn near angelic as he enters the shop, a place that suddenly seems so mundane with its walls covered in glossy photos of coffee beans and faded tile floor.

He joins you, ordering tea, so much more civilized than your giant cappuccino topped with cinnamon and chocolate dust. Your eyes meet his and you flush, looking away. What now? Panic rears its ugly head, trampling the excited beat of your heart into the ground.

“Is that the latest X. Sycamore novel?” He notices what you have laying casually on the table by your drink, the beautiful indigo cover and gold lettering. It may be old-fashioned but you are a lover of books you can wrap your hands around, covers you can touch. Someone who has a tactile love of words. You nod. “Do you like her work?” In answer he reaches behind him, into the pocket of his beautifully-tailored beige coat and pulls out the exact same book.

From there it’s easy. So easy. One cappuccino becomes two. One cup of tea multiples like flower buds in spring time. Conversation flows like a current between you, rife with warmth and crackling with soft electricity. You decide you can’t pinpoint the exact color of his eyes because they are always changing. The brightness of Goldenrod when he is happy, dark as pyrite when he’s contemplating, animated as the sun’s shimmering caress of the sea when excited. You learn all his facial expressions and soak in the sound of his voice, burying them deep inside your heart to recall at any time.

When he checks his wristwatch and sighs, you sense your time together nearing its end. You stand abruptly, a motion spurred by the wild desire to beg him to stay and the need to act as though you are perfectly fine with him leaving. Unfortunately you knock against the table, sending your half-full cappuccino toppling just as he’s gathering his coat. Your heart, so light and breezy, turns to stone like a gargoyle in sunlight, sinking down into the twisting pit of your stomach. The stain across the expensive wool looks garish, something out of a horror movie.

At first he refuses your offer to pay for the dry cleaning but you are insistent and he relents. You feel oddly giddy. If the price of seeing him again is a cleaning a soiled coat, then you are willing to pay it. Gladly.

That night, your tree changes yet again. The branches are fuller, anointed in thick, lustrous green. Leaves unfurl themselves towards an invisible sun, towards a welcoming sky.

You hold the freshly cleaned jacket as if it is a child in your arms, tenderly so as not to wrinkle it. The garment bag is a soft blue, a stark contrast to the dark, rich colors of the mansion you find yourself walking through. If elegance were to fashion itself into a home, this would be it. Your heels click across the polished wood as the butler leads you to where Comte is waiting for you. His library.

The garment bag is removed from your arms and he is speaking in that sonorous voice as he greets you but you are not listening. Your mind is trying to soak in the sight of the shelves, rows and rows of shelves, towering above you to meet the breathtaking molded ceiling. Surely this is heaven. Surely he is its keeper.

His hand on your shoulder steadies you, brings you back down to earth, to his warm gaze and the scent of sandalwood. Would you like a tour? You nod and his hand slips down until it takes yours, gentle at first, questioning. You tighten your grip, wordlessly telling him yes, this is ok. Yes you want this. His exhale of relief is audible.

“Let’s begin over here, with Molière.”

That night, your tree has added hundreds of tiny buds clustered throughout its green branches. Each flower bud a tiny pink universe waiting to be born.

He invites you to the cinema where you hold his hand, fingers interlaced as you lose yourselves in the story playing across the screen. The dream ends when the lights come on, scattering the wispy remnants of magic the movie spun around its audience.

You step out of the theater, hands still clasped together and stop as you notice the light haze of rain that has started falling. You glance at Comte. The bus stop you need to get to is several blocks down. He squeezes your hand.

"It doesn't look so bad, chérie. Shall we?"

You agree and together step out into the cool rain. For the first minute it really isn't so bad. The rain dampens your clothing, kisses your skin gently. But after that, it's as if the clouds decided the warm-up is over. The storm gathers its thunderous drums and flashy lightning guitars and the real show begins.

You jump as his arm gathers you close against his side for protection, a bulwark in the sudden downpour. Together you search for shelter through the blur of rain. It only takes you a second to remember where you are.

The oversized awning of the bookstore shields you from most of the heavy rain. You turn within the circle of Comte's protective embrace, your gaze slowly tracing a path up the pale column of his throat, the angle of his jaw, the curve of his lips where it stops, caught there like a thread on a nail. Something warm is unspooling within you, lifting you up to meet him as he leans down, both of you moving in unspoken tandem. Your eyes flutter closed and the world shrinks down to the feel of his lips on yours, cool with rainwater.

The moment your lips touch, you glow with the warmth you have felt in his presence from the beginning. It plunges into the furthest corners of your heart, taking root. As he cradles your head in his gentle hand, his mouth moving over yours, seeking and finding, you know.

You know.

He is yours, now and forever.

That night, you sleep in Comte’s strong arms. Your tattoo is in full bloom, a symphony of soft, pink cherry blossoms, a timeless concert of exquisite joy and breathtaking tenderness. A testament to the love of two souls, meant to be.

Tagging: @aquagirl1978 @alixennial @alexxavicry @rhodolitesrose @ikemen-writer @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @aria-chikage @tele86 @dear-mrs-otome @firestar-otomeobsessed @curious-skybunny @rhodoliteschaos @kpop-and-otome @writingwhimsey @mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @otomefoxystar @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight @bubblexly

#ikemen series #ikemen vampire #ikemen vamp #ikevamp #ikevamp comte #comte de st germain #soulmate au #coffe shop au #bookstore au #different universe same love ccc #ikemen fanfiction #ikemen fanfic #otome fanfiction #violettwrites

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kookieswan · 1 year

Note

I’m so happy that you hit your milestone!! Would you be willing to do Red salvia with RM? Maybe a soulmate au but whatever you think will be best! Thank you!!

Red Salvia - Forever Mine

Namjoon x Reader

Word Count: 500+

Genre: Soulmate AU. Fluff. So much fluff.

Warnings: None 🌸

Summary: You’re forever his, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Notes: Ahhh thank you so much lovely. I’m more than willing and I hope you enjoy! I had a lot of fun writing something so soft heh 🌸

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“Morning baby.” It’s enough to make you wake; the sound of your lovers voice making the sleepy smile on your face turn bright. Cracking open your eyes, Namjoon is the first thing you see, the shine of the sun sneaking through the shades making him glow just as brightly as the smile he wears.

“Mmmh, morning Joon…” Unable to stop yourself, you bring a hand up to caress his cheek. The dimples quickly appear as he leans closer and turns to the side slightly, just enough to kiss your fingers. It makes you giggle, the feather light touches of his lips against your skin.

He grabs for your hand and holds it, a pleasant silence overtaking the room. He leaves a few more kisses against your fingers, then trails up your hand and eventually to your wrist. He stops there, lips ghosting over the pretty red ink that’s resided in the spot since you met him.

It was an accident, you really hadn’t meant to bump into him on your walk. Maybe you were a little too distracted by your phone, but then again, he’s the one that practically ran you over. As much as you love Joon, you never want him to body slam you again… Well, not like that anyway.

He felt so bad that he offered to take you out for coffee, and of course you agreed because how could you not? Such a handsome man and some hot chocolate to top it off? A win win, which turned out to be even more of a win when you noticed the new little red spot on your wrist. Just a simple petal then, but sure enough, it matched the tiny spot that had appeared on Namjoon’s… His delighted laugh as the realization is something you’ll never forget.

And the rest is history.

“Another petal appeared last night.” Nearly toppling the both of you over, you spring out of the covers and onto him, taking his arm to look for yourself. Sure enough, his salvia flower has another petal, now nearly enough to make it to the top of the plant. Almost complete, almost finalized.

“It’s so pretty…” It’s something you think every time; it’s so pretty. It’s so pretty agains his honey skin, so pretty when you compare it to your own. Glancing down at your own wrist, you confirm that you both have another petal, both happy and thriving and content. He tightens his free arm around you, holding you to him snuggly.

“They’re almost full now, we’ll be fully bonded in no time.” Fully bonded. Nothing sounds better than spending the rest of your life with him. Coming home to him, waking up to him in the morning, getting to experience your lives together… You’ll be completely connected.

“I’m so happy we found each other. It’s cheesy sounding but; you’re the love of my life Joon. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” He gives you a gentle look then, eyes warm as he draws you close enough to leave a soft kiss against your forehead, his long bangs tickling your warm cheeks. His words come out as a whisper, but they’re a comfort.

“You’d be fine, but no worries… You’re forever mine baby.”

#namjoon x reader #namjoon x you #namjoon x y/n #namjoon fluff #namjoon #bts x y/n #bts x you #bts x reader #bts fluff #bts soulmate au #bts

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cherryblossom-enthusiast · 2 years

Text

Grounded (Thunk!) - Chapter 4 Preview (Bradley Bradshaw x f! Reader)

A/N: GUYS! Thank you so much for the patience! After a much needed break and vacation, I’m back and I’m going to be trying and getting out as much writing as I can before the end of the summer. It means the absolute world to me that people are still clicking on my profile and checking out my writing. Here’s a little preview of Buttercup with her new friend ;)

I’m planning on spoiling you guys with some much needed tension relief in the next chapter but that’s all I can reveal for now ;))))

Love you all!

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As you keep your head down, you quickly shuffle to the exit and because God has his favourites and it’s definitely not you, you bump into what you swear is a fucking mountain or something.

“Woah miss, you okay there?” the voice says as they hold your shoulder to steady you.

Oh, you’ve got to be kidding.

“Ken?!” You whisper-shout.

Sure enough, Jake Seresin was standing in front of you in all his 6’0ft. tall glory. With a Stetson hat on and a button up white shirt rolled up to show his impressive forearms, you notice this is the first time you’ve seen him in civilian clothes instead of his usual standard military uniform.

His brows furrow, but it leaves his features as quickly as it came on. “Hey,” he draws out the word “you’re Bradshaw’s girl.” He remarks, the concern on his face, slowly etching into that familiar smirk. His crystal blue eyes leave your face and they notice the collection of people peering at your direction. “You uh- murder someone ma’am?”

You don’t know if it’s reflex or some survival mechanism, but before you know it you go into pure panic mode and you’re slowly pushing against Ken’s chest, taking him outside with you, down the street, way past where the café’s patrons could continue staring at you.

A sigh escapes your lips. You snap out of your little panic haze and realize what you just did.

Are you nuts?! Did you really just do that?!

You jump away from his chest like it’s made of fire. “I’m so sor-“

Your apologetic voice fades out.

Ken doesn’t seem the least bit fazed. If anything, he looks amused, his smirk turning into a fully fledged smile that shows off his pearly whites.

Who is this man’s dentist, because he’s doing a stellar job living up to his title.

“No worries.” He brushes the whole thing off like what you did was a completely normal thing to do. “What happened in there?”

You quickly try to think of an excuse, but none comes to mind. “I was just- I reacted a bit poorly to something and I had a bit of an outburst is all. Don’t worry about it.” Cringing, you glance back behind you. “I can probably never show my face there ever again due to sheer public embarrassment though.”

Jake chuckles. If Bradley’s laugh is like honey, this man’s laugh is like dark chocolate. “Well that’s a damn shame, their black coffee is grade A fuel.”

You grimace. “I have no clue how anybody can drink something as wretched as black coffee.”

He deflects your statement and continues to do what Hangman does best you suppose. He gets under your skin. “What made you react so strongly anyway? Don’t tell me it was because the coffee was too strong.” The sarcastic pity on his face makes you the slightest bit irritated and you walk past him, rolling your eyes.

To your dismay, he starts to follow you.

“You lose another pool game?”

“Stop following me.”

“That Rooster bothering you?”

You pause your steps and turn your glare to his bright expression. His smile widens even more.

“My god, he is.”

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun maverick #top gun #bradley bradshaw fanfic #bradley bradshaw #top gun fanfiction #rooster bradshaw #miles teller #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader

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theirbbygirl · 3 years

Text

Second Lead Syndrome

Word Count: ~8.7k words

liked this? there’s more on my masterlist!

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Comedy, Female reader insert

Description: Y/n and Minho have been friends for more than 2 years now, but suddenly she begins to see herself as the mere second lead in Minho’s story. Will she be the rare second lead who gets her own happy ending?

Warnings: some crying, themes of unrequited love (if there’s anything that I missed don’t hesitated to let me know!)

I’d only ever encountered Second Lead Syndrome in the dramas I’d watched. Wanting the girl to end up with the second lead who was so obviously the better and healthier choice, but like every avid watcher of kdramas, it's more than likely for the main leads to end up with each other, that was just how it worked. What I never thought I’d encounter was seeing it happen before my own eyes and experience it firsthand.

Life was never supposed to be a kdrama. Life was supposed to be simple, a straight line, going from point A to B with no complications. But life never really went my way did it? It just had to throw in one variable, one man that had too much influence on my life.

I couldn’t remember the first time I met Minho. It was probably sometime in the first grade when his family first moved in next to mine. But alas, we were both too young to remember exactly what sparked our friendship. One day we were strangers and the next we had given our parents a near heart attack when we both went after a stray cat on the way back home (my mom’s words, not ours). From then my memories were filled with him, just us besties hanging out like anyone would with their best friend. First party, first mental breakdown, first drink, all with him. Soon enough we were in our final year of University, and ultimately, adults.

The Minho I knew was laid back, not too extroverted but not too introverted either. While I completely contrasted him, always anxious about something, wanting perfection to the T, and completely and utterly introverted. Our friendship, moving into University, sparked a lot of questions. You wouldn’t typically find the introverted straight-A student with the borderline badboy tsundere walking and laughing in the halls together, spending practically every waking moment together. But Minho didn’t care, and neither did I, so we moved through life pretty easily.

One of the few things we had in common was our love for cats, and when we both foudn out there was a cat cafe just a few minutes walk from our campus, you best bet we spent too much of our time and money there. Studying, hanging out, anything you could imagine. If we weren’t in one of our dorms, we were more than likely to be in the cat cafe.

Every day after class we’d go there and we’d complain about our least favorite professors and how lectures would seemingly last for longer than they should. Additionally, Minho had almost become akin to my own dormmate with how much time he spent in my dorm. He’d come in whenever he wished, stealing my frozen pizzas and sodas, using my Netflix account on my TV to watch weird National Geographic shows and make random comments like “that snake looks just like Kim Seungmin,” or “look its Hannie” whenever a squirrel came on screen. Minho was always there when I needed a drinking partner after bombing a test or assignment, pouring me shots of soju until I passed out and bringing me to my bed and tucking me in whiel he would sleep on the couch to make sure I wouldn’t do anything stupid in the middle of the night.

Although, more people knew Minho’s name than mine, but that didn’t bother any of us. We continued on being friends as usual, and it felt like nothing would change that. Life was moving in a straight line like it should’ve always been.

At least, that’s what it felt like until February, just a few months before we graduated.

I make my way to our usual spot in the courtyard after buying an iced coffee and a snickers bar from the vending machine next to my classroom, I walk up behind Minho sitting on a bench when I find him staring out in front of him instead of looking at cat videos on his phone like he usually does. Slowing my walk, I trail my eyes to the vague direction he’s facing and see that he’s looking at Kim Seungmin and a girl chatting outside the classroom. I ignore the thought, opting to think that Minho must’ve spaced out thinking about how he would irritate Seungmin next class. I plop down next to him when he still doesn’t take note of my arrival, so I get right next to his ear and blow cold air into it, snickering when he jolts in surprise.

“What was that for?” He whines, fake annoyed.

“You got lost up in your thoughts for a certain Kim Seungmin there.” I snicker some more, opening my snickers (hehe) bar.

Just as I’m about to take the first bite of the sugary goodness, the chocolate bar gets snatched out of my hands and a certain Lee Minho takes an obnoxious bite out of it, not even giving it back but eating it like it was his. I pout, watching him devour my snack, knowing that I couldn’t do anything to get it back.

“For your information, I was not thinking about Kim Seungmin.” He says pointedly, slightly muffled by the chocolate in his mouth.

I sigh, knowing I wasn’t going to get that chocolate bar back any time soon, and open my iced coffee. “So what were you thinking about then?” I ask before taking a sip.

“Don’t know, spaced out.” Is all the answer I get and I highly doubt him, but I brush it off anyways and don’t pry.

Minho and I slide into our usual conversation about assignments, plans for the week, and everything under the sun. We talk about how he’s planning to visit home the next day and stay for a weekend and how excited he is to see his cats after a long time, I unknowingly smile at his ramble about how talkative Dori is, and just sit back and listen. I never took into account how healing it was to just watch and listen to him talk, the sultry of his voice and his little exclamations of frustration or excitement that came once in a while. I had to catch myself from staring when he turned to look at me, having asked me a question I didn’t catch.

“Sorry what was that?” I ask.

“Am I that beautiful for you to have lost your hearing to my handsome face?” I couldn’t just tell him that that was basically what had happened, it would inflate his ego by too much and reveal everything I’d hidden thus far.

“The heck? No, I was thinking about how great it would be to get some peace and quiet while you’re not around this weekend.” I lie, having Minho around is the only thing that brings me entertainment that isn’t endless sappy kdramas on my laptop, but he can never know that.

Minho scoffs, says something under his breath that I don’t quite catch, then turns back to me. “You love me.” He says with a pout.

“Unfortunately I do.”

That was the first of many inconspicuous confessions.

It was nearing 3 or 4 am and I was about halfway done with another kdrama when several knocks resound through the small living space. Knowing exactly who it is, I only shout back “you know the code!” and moments later the door opens.

I don’t bother to get up and greet Minho, this exact scene has happened too many times for either of us to care at this point, and it doesn’t surprise me that the moment he enters he shouts, “Honey I’m home!” like we’re in some cheesy romcom.

“Mhmm, welcome home, leech.” I enunciate the last word purposely, but I know he won’t bat an eye at the term. I continue to chew my popcorn while he wanders through my cabinets, looking for snacks. “There’s chips in the cabinet next to the fridge and sprite in there too. If you want more food order Chinese takeout.”

“I don’t have my wallet.” I can practically hear his pout from where I sat, eyes unmoving from the TV screen.

“You know where mine is, but you have to pay me back.” A few seconds pass with no response until suddenly he’s next to me and kissing my cheek.

“I loveeee you!” He says too sweetly, retreating back to the mini-kitchen to order takeout.

“Mhmm, I love you too.” I say, not loud enough for him to hear the confidence missing from my tone.

Continuing to watch the episode of in front of me, I remain in my comfortable position, only moving to lift my legs when Minho comes back to sit on the couch under my legs and the blanket.

“Oh you’re watching this one?” He asks, reaching into the bowl of popcorn I offer him.

“Yeah, didn’t have anything else to watch so I put it on since everyone seems to like it so much.”

“Mm,” he hums while also indulging himself into the scenes playing in front of him. “You’re probably team potato guy, right?”

“What kind of question is that? Of course I am!” I scoff.

“I don’t know, I still think she should end up with Jae-eon.”

“Are you crazy? He literally leads her on like every playboy and is ruining her mentality by not defining their relationship.”

“Yeah, but they’re so cute together, and you can totally tell he feels something for her.” He argues.

“Just cause they’re cute together doesn’t mean they’re good for each other, the entire guy is a walking red flag, I don’t understand why she doesn’t just walk away when she’s had experience with a shit boyfriend.” I sigh.

“You, have major second lead syndrome.” He points an accusing finger at me.

“So what? It’s for good reason, the main lead is toxic as fuck and you can’t change my mind.” I upturn my nose, turning back to the TV and continuing to watch the episode.

The mentioning of the second lead sends a flurry of thoughts into my brain for a reason I can’t comprehend. Sometimes the main leads aren’t that bad but still we want the main character to end up with the second lead, maybe out of our own natural selfishness because we prefer the second lead more. I shake the thoughts away, trying to convince myself that kdramas were only works of fiction and too cheesy to be real, yet for whatever reason I always felt a connection with the second leads, like our emotions directed to our crushes were the same, because I knew that I would always be the second lead in Minho’s story.

Minho’s name was always called out more times than mine was growing up, which I didn’t really mind until our hangout time would be seriously cut down because he had to hang out with other friends. Don’t get me wrong, I loved that he had friends, but there was a little bit of selfishness in me that wanted him to myself.

A new drama and a few episodes later, plus Chinese takeout, lead to our eventual demise. We both fall asleep on the couch in less than comfortable positions and wake up with stiff-neck, us groaning at the pain.

We continue on with our usual morning routines, taking turns freshening up in the bathroom before heading out for breakfast at Paws and Pastries since we were both too lazy to make food ourselves. Besides, hot coffee in the morning plus good sandwiches AND cats? What more could you ask for?

When we enter the cat cafe I notice a familiar face behind the cashier, it was the same girl Seungmin was talking to on Friday, and the same girl I caught Minho staring at. We walk up to the cashier, I order my food first, a simple breakfast sandwich with a coffee to go with it and wait next to Minho to finish ordering.

I made the mistake up glancing up at his face as he was telling his order to her, Ahra, her name tag read. There was something in his eyes that glinted that I had never seen before, not when he talked to Han and not when he talked to me. I couldn’t help but feel a pang of emotion in the middle of my chest before forcing myself to look back down, inserting my card and paying for everything. I sent the girl a thank you and a kind smile after she told us our food would be right over, and both me and Minho went over to our usual table in the back corner next to the cat’s jungle gym and right up next to the window. I get lost in my thoughts while we begin playing with the cats we were so accustomed to.

Like most second leads, I knew exactly what my feelings were. I was practically an adult, how could I miss the fast beating of my heart or my clammy hands whenever I was around him? But again, like most second leads, I knew I’d never get a chance with him, not when everything we did together was purely platonic. It was painfully obvious that I’d be stuck with an unrequited love for who knows how long, and I couldn’t just detach myself from him all of a sudden to get over my feelings because a) he’d notice and force me to tell him what was wrong, ultimately leading me to tell him that I had feelings for him, and b) the moment I would come back or see him for even just a second I know I would develop those feelings all over again. Neither of which were choices I was willing to take so I suck it up and see him every day, ignoring everything my heart was telling me.

I look up from the cat that I’m petting in my lap and look at Minho again, only to find him staring at Ahra who was taking people’s orders with a perfect pearly smile. It was in that moment that I knew, I had just found the female lead of Minho’s story.

3 weeks go by in a similar manner. Minho and I see Ahra around campus a few times and with some twisted fate, she’s on the clock every time we go to Paws and Pastries. Minho, being his smooth self, easily gets himself acquainted with her. They laugh and giggle so naturally and can slip into conversation so easily I’m almost envious of Minho and his non-introverted self.

Not being one to try and stop fate, I watch it all happen. Telling Minho to ask her out already and teasing him about how lovesick he gets when he sees her nearby or at the cafe. I know Minho likes her when he blushes or gets defensive whenever I mention her in our conversations even though he’s never explicitly told me himself. I put on a face in front of him whenever these conversations come up, not wanting to get in the way of his happiness.

One day some of our friends want to meet up outside of campus, we make plans to meet up at a bowling alley, ready to have fun until the late evening hours. Seungmin brought Ahra along with him, asking if it was okay to invite her since they were friends. Everyone agrees and we all meet up as planned. When everyone gets there, including Seungmin and Ahra, we introduce ourselves, Minho not having to introduce himself and easily speaking with her like they always did whenever running into each other. All the the boys have raised brows and mischievous smiles as they watch the interaction between the two, but only one looks at me in concern.

A majority of the night passes by with laughter and teasing, how Chan was terrible at bowling this night and Minho easily beating him despite never doing too well on our previous adventures to the bowling alley. I spend the night with the rest of the boys, while Minho and Ahra spend time getting to know each other even more. There’s a point in the evening where I see Minho hold out his phone to Ahra to exchange numbers, I can hear her giggle when they take a selfie together, probably for her profile picture. I have to turn my head away quickly to ignore the cracking of my own heart when Minho puts his arm on the couch behind Ahra, he does it so naturally, yet he’s never done it with me. I will my thoughts to focus on the game and not on Minho, not noticing the same pair of concerned eyes until they speak up.

“Are you alright?” Hyunjin asks.

“Hm? Of course I am, why wouldn’t I be?” My voice cracks halfway through and I try to hide my sad eyes, even though I was fully aware that Hyunjin had probably noticed that something was up.

“‘Cause you seem pretty affected by that scene over there.” He motions to Minho and Ahra with a nod of his head.

“It’s nothing, Hyun, just nice seeing Minho talking to more people.”

“Y/n, you know he talks to people all the time, and you’re not nearly as affected then as you are now.”

“Hyunjin, really, it’s fine.” I try to convince him but he says something that lets me know that he knows.

“You like Minho.”

“What? No that’s absurd I-“ He looks at me pointedly, and I sigh in defeat. “Yeah, okay, you got me.”

“Why don’t you say anything? Clearly it hurts you to see him like that.” He refers to Minho getting cozy with her.

“Hyunjin, it’s clear that everything we have is platonic, he even called me his sister several times. And who am I to get in the way of him getting into a relationship? That’s not my place to say anything, especially when his last girlfriend was 2 years ago.”

“I get that, but shouldn’t he at least deserve to know? He says that he knows everything about you, but there’s one thing that he doesn't. You know practically everything about him, isn’t it a little unfair?”

“We have choices as to what we share with each other and what we don’t, it’s his choice to tell me what he wants to and my choice to tell him what I want to tell him. Besides, he hasn’t even told me that he has a crush on Ahra yet.”

“So maybe he doesn’t then.”

“Hyunjin, just look at him, he’s a puppy in love.” I glance back over to Minho and Ahra sitting parallel to us. Minho is smiling brightly, more brightly than I had seen in a while and I can’t help but let my lips upturn at the corners just slightly in another sad smile.

Hyunjin sighs next to me, and I look back to him. “I’m sorry y/n, I really wish he would end up with you instead of her, it doesn’t seem fair to you.”

“Hey, don’t say that, Ahra seems like a nice girl, she and Minho will get along great. And nothing in life is fair Hyunjin, that’s just something you come to accept.” I say, getting up. “I’m gonna get some drinks, does anyone want anything?” I ask everyone.

��Cola!” “Me too!” “Me three!” “A lemonade please.” A few of the boys shout back.

“Anything for you guys?” I turn to Minho and Ahra. They both shake their heads. “Okay then, I’ll be back in a minute guys.” I smile at the group before going to get the drinks.

While walking away from the group I let a teardrop fall from my eye, wiping it away just before I order.

Life’s unfair, that’s just something I have to accept.

A week goes by and Minho’s talking about how he and Ahra message often, how he thinks they get along well and he’s gonna ask her out.

Another week goes by and they’ve gone on their first date, he takes her to the beach and they have a picnic.

Two weeks after that they’ve gone on several dates and are officially boyfriend and girlfriend, I don’t even find out separately at this point, I find out with the rest of the group over dinner.

A few days after that Minho calls off one of our late night binge watching sessions, texting me an apology and that Ahra needs him. I tell him it’s okay and to send my regards to her.

It’s a week and half after and Minho regularly calls off our meetups at the cafe after school or at one another’s dorms to tend to Ahra. I tell him it’s fine each time and to not feel bad. He did the same today, and I sit alone at our usual table, mindlessly petting a cat in my lap while zoning out into in my mug of coffee.

All while this happens, I watch, and I let it happen. I don’t fight for him because it didn’t feel right, sometimes second leads let their love fall for someone else, and that’s all it felt like I could do.

Fighting for Minho felt selfish, especially when I knew I had no chance and he’d already fallen for Ahra. I couldn’t suddenly come out of the blue and tell him “hey, I have feelings for you,” when he’s already dating Ahra, I’d look like a major asshole if I did. All I could do was watch and see how we begun to drift farther and farther apart.

With Minho being absent more often, I don’t get to tell him much. Like the internship offer I got to continue pursuing graphic design in Itaewon. I got the email almost a week ago, and I had two more weeks to decide if I was going to take the offer. With nobody to consult about it with I continue to push it to the back of my mind, not wanting to deal with more stress just yet.

Just as I’m taking another sip of my coffee a familiar head of long blonde hair enters the cafe. My head tilts to the side in confusion as he scans the room for someone when he meets eyes with me, he makes his way over and sits in the seat in front of me and doesn’t say anything.

“You’re rarely on this side of town, why are you here?” I ask Hyunjin first.

“I heard something from Ms. Kim in our art class and needed to know if it was true.” He says seriously.

“What…” I feel like I know what he’s going to say, but I ask anyways. “What did you hear?”

“That you were offered an internship in Itaewon.”

“Hyunjin I-“

“Is it really true? She said you had two more weeks to decide, how come you haven’t told anybody? Does Minho know? Are you gonna leave? What about-” He begins to spurt out question after question and it’s almost too much for me to handle.

“Hyunjin!” I raise my voice just slightly to get him to stop but I have to turn it down again when the volume of my voice makes a few of the other customers’ heads turn. “Calm down, yes it’s true, yes I have two more weeks to decide if I’m going or not, I didn’t know how I would tell any of you, no, Minho doesn’t know and I don’t plan on telling him.”

“Are you… Are you gonna take the offer?” He asks slowly.

I prop my elbows onto the table as the cat leaves my lap and my head drops into my hands as I sigh in exasperation. “I don’t know.” Tears are gathering in my eyes as I think about it.

“Y/n, have you thought about the offer at all?”

“Yes and no.” I don’t need to lift my head to sense Hyunjin’s confusion. “It’s hard to think about it when you’re watching your crush of 2 years date someone else while you’re also trying to finish up your senior year. But it’s also all I can think about when I’m alone, which I find myself a lot, thinking about having to find a place to live in Itaewon and transfer and mentally prepare to leave you all here, but if I don’t take it then it’ll be even harder to find an offer like this. It’s all I can think about and also something that I can’t bring myself to think about, Hyunjin.” I lift my head and my teary eyes meet his own.

“Y/n…” His voice breaks saying my name.

“I think I’m going to take it.” I pause. “Once I finish all of my final assignments the only thing I have left to really worry about is graduating and finding a job, and I don’t think I can take watching Minho and Ahra anymore Hyun, I don’t think I can stomach it. I’m happy for them, I truly am, but it’s also affecting me and I don’t think I should ignore that anymore. If I’m in Itaewon I have a job and I won’t have to worry about feelings anymore, two birds with one stone.”

I see the hesitancy in Hyunjin’s facial expressions before he speaks. “If that’s what you think you should do, then I’ll support you all the way. But shouldn’t you tell Minho about this?”

“I’m not, because if I do, Minho is gonna find some way to get me to stay and I’ll crumble and stay because he affects me the most.” Hyunjin merely nods in response. “Hyunjin, you are the only one that can know about this, okay? I can’t have everyone else know this, especially Minho, okay?”

Hesitation again, and then, “Okay.”

Hyunjin keeps his promise, he keeps the secret of me leaving from everyone. Even as graduation inches closer and our group begins to talk more about job searching, what comes next, and similar topics, the two of us keep it a secret. Whenever they asked me what I was thinking of doing next I always just told them “oh probably looking for internships nearby,” and no more questions are asked.

Minho and Ahra were still very much in love, even more than before, if the growing absence of Minho’s presence was anything to go by. I barely saw Minho anymore, maybe catching him at the end of the hall every once in awhile, but he was always walking with Ahra so all I could say was “hello” and “goodbye.”

Each goodbye begun to hold more and more weight as the days passed. Even the short ones I would tell Minho after passing him in the halls. I couldn’t even conjure how I would tell everyone, maybe send a letter to each of their places? A text message? Tell them after the graduation ceremony just before I left for the train station? I thought about how I would say goodbye as I begun to pack up my dorm. Graduation was nearing, I had already turned in all of my final assignments, and all there was left was to pack. I would leave after the ceremony ended, sometime in the afternoon. I wouldn’t even get the chance to properly celebrate being graduates with my friends because I was leaving in the afternoon. I’d get situated in my new apartment in Itaewon and get accustomed to new life outside of Gimpo.

The thought of leaving panged my heart harshly, I had never left Gimpo permanently before. Sure, I had gone on trips to the US and Singapore and Seoul before, but I had never moved from Gimpo. I was born and raised in Gimpo, met Minho and all of our friends here, so the thought of moving for the first time did something to my heart. I attended all of our group hangouts with a nostalgic mindset, remembering the first time we all met, when we all got wasted one time on a Friday night after some big exam week. I look around our table of friends and think about how much I’ll miss all of this when I leave for Itaewon.

Another thing that panged my heart, Minho and I distancing. I knew it was coming, Minho and I didn’t text or talk about hanging out anymore. He walked Ahra to her classes now, and had dates with her after class instead of meeting me at our cafe. Eventually I stopped getting apology messages, and stopped expecting him at the cafe anymore. I couldn’t blame him, Ahra was his girlfriend and I accepted that long ago. Instead I just played the supportive friend on the sidelines, and I’d continue to play that role for as long as I had to.

It came to be the night before we graduated, and all of us minus Minho and Ahra were sat around a table in one of the restaurants we frequented, it wasn’t too late in the evening, and we all just sat in silence after finishing our food with bottles and glasses of soju now sitting in front of us. A majority of our meal was full of reminiscing, talking about memories that crack everyone up and left smiles on our faces.

“So, we really graduate tomorrow, huh?” Changbin says when the table quiets down.

“Yeah, I guess we do.” Chan says quietly.

My eyes tear up and I begin to sniff without control, the weight of my department tomorrow weighing heavily on my shoulders. Hyunjin puts an arm around my shoulders and gives me a tissue, whispering “it’s okay, it’s okay” to me while I try to calm down.

Everyone looks at me in confusion before Chan speaks first. “Y/n are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I just…” I trail off, not sure what to say.

“Do you want to tell them?” Hyunjin asks softly.

“Tell us what?” Seungmin says this time.

Hyunjin looks to me first before nodding, and I begin to spill my secret. “I got an internship offer.”

The table erupts in cheers and I get congratulations thrown back at me before I can even continue.

“But…” Immediately everyone silences and looks to me in expectation. “It’s in Itaewon.”

There’s a tense air that falls around us. “What?” Felix says in disbelief.

“You’re not leaving us, right Noona?” Jeongin asks from another part of the table.

I look to Jeongin with sad eyes, smiling sadly. “I leave tomorrow, after our graduation ceremony.” There’s some gasps around the table.

“What?! Y/n, why didn’t you tell us sooner?” Changbin blows up and Chan has to place a hand on his shoulder to restrain him.

“I didn’t want every time we met leading up to graduation to feel like a goodbye, Bin, I couldn’t handle that. So I kept it from you all so there wasn’t this tension every time we met.” I explained.

“Does Minho know?” Seungmin asks this time, and I shake my head.

“Y/n…” Han says worriedly.

“Guys, I know I’m not the only one that’s noticed that me and Minho aren’t that close anymore, so I haven’t really gotten the chance to tell him. But I told Hyunjin this a long time ago, that I wouldn’t tell Minho specifically, because there’s some things that I need to figure out and if I told him he’d find some way to keep me from going, or even worse, follow me. At least with Ahra by his side he won’t follow me to Itaewon.” There’s nods all around the table, understanding where I’m coming from.

“We’re gonna miss you a lot.” Felix sniffs and I coo, getting up from my seat to wrap my arms around him from behind.

“I’m gonna miss you all too.” I sniff with him, a few tears escaping my eyes.

Chan comes to join our hug, then Han, then Jeongin, and soon enough everyone has joined the group hug with me in the middle. All of us are crying, and I had never felt more loved than that moment.

Eventually we break away from the hug and return to our seats, everyone dabbing at their eyes with tissues and sniffing.

“Let’s all stop crying, tonight is a night to celebrate, all of us graduate tomorrow, and our dear Y/n got an internship offer in a big city!” Han holds up a drink and we all do the same, cheering and clinking our glasses together and celebrating the night away.

The next morning I get ready for graduation early, putting on my makeup and doing my hair, and sending a message.

to: [cat dad who’s a leech :D]

hey, can you meet me at p&p in thirty?

My heart picks up the pace as I send the message, I didn’t expect him to answer so quickly yet his message pings my phone within 2 minutes.

from: [cat dad who’s a leech :D]

sure, i can be there

to: [cat dad who’s a leech :D]

sweet, i’ll see you there

I turn my phone off and take a deep breath, we still had a few hours before we had to be at the school for our graduation ceremony, I’d have to leave just a few minutes after the ceremony ended which wouldn’t give me enough time to tell Minho, so, I made the painful decision the night before to tell him in the morning. I’d do it in our favorite spot in the corner of our favorite cat cafe, tell him the news slowly and hope that he takes it well.

I leave my house and 15 minutes later I’m in our usual booth, my coffee order sitting in front of me and the cats all wandering around as there weren’t too many people since it was relatively early in the morning. I already bought Minho his typical Iced Americano and it sat in front of me, awaiting it’s owner.

10 minutes later Minho arrives and makes his way to the table, sitting in front of me, smiling, unknowing of what’s about to happen.

“Hey.” I smile at him.

“Hey you.” He smiles back brightly. “Sorry I couldn’t see you guys last night, I took Ahra out for dinner last night on a date.”

“It’s completely alright, how are you guys?”

“Pretty good, things are going okay right now.” He answers.

“That’s good.” Nervously I take a sip of my macchiato in front of me, my leg bouncing in anxiety.

“Y/n? Is everything alright? Your leg’s bouncing pretty fast right now.” Curse Minho and the fact that he knows so much about me, he reaches out for my wrist and checks my pulse, quickly noticing how fast it’s beating as his brows furrow in confusion.

“Minho, there’s something I need to tell you.” I say, retracting my wrist from his grip. He doesn’t answer me but instead tilts his head like a cat does when it looks at its owner questionably. “I’m leaving.”

“What?” He asks.

How could one look so endearing, head tilted and eyes full of emotion as I break the news to him? I ask myself. “I got an internship offer for a company in Itaewon, I accepted it and I’m leaving for Itaewon, today.”

“You’re leaving today?” He says in disbelief, sounding out of breath.

I nod and continue. “After the graduation today I have to catch my bus. I didn’t have any other time to tell you so I had to tell you now.”

“You’re… You’re just telling me now? Do the others know about this?”

“I only told them last night.”

“You couldn’t have thought of telling me sooner?” He starts to get angry.

“Minho I-“

“What happened to telling me everything, huh? What happened to when we used to know everything about each other?”

“Minho, those days are long behind us, you have bigger priorities now, like putting your focus on your girlfriend, Minho. I couldn’t tell you because I knew you’d do something rash, and I didn’t even tell the others until last night because I knew every time we’d see each other it would be like preparing for the day I leave. You and Ahra have something so great going on for the two of you right now and telling you that I was leaving would take you away from that, and I can’t do that to you or her. Ahra is an amazing girl, and you have her now.”

“Will you at least visit?” His eyes are full of tears, some of the first I’ve seen in years and I hate that I’m the cause of it.

“I don’t know yet, there’s some things I need to figure out myself first, before I can visit. But at some point maybe I will, when I’ve figured things out I’ll try visiting from time to time.” I offer him a sad smile.

After a few moments of silence I get up from my seat.

“We still have a graduation left, Min, I’ll still see you then.” I ruffle his hair and walk out of the cafe, no more secrets but one weighing down on my chest.

The Graduation ceremony passes by in a blur. One moment we were listening to the speeches of each of the professors and the next we were tossing our caps into the air, cheering as we became alumni of our university.

Our friend group met up in the front of the school, taking pictures with our parents and congratulating each other. Eventually, the time comes and I have to go.

Our group stands in a circle, unmoving, as we all look at each other.

“I’m gonna miss all of you so much.” I say in tears as my voice breaks.

“We’re gonna miss you too, Y/n.” Hyunjin says. At his words everyone gathers into a group hug full of tears and the weight of a goodbye on our shoulders.

“You better promise to visit us, okay?” Felix holds me by the shoulders and makes a point to look me in the eye. Not trusting my voice, I nod and he brings me into one more hug.

I hug each of them individually, saying a few words, before I reach the last person.

I hug Minho and look into his eyes for the last time for a while.

“I’ll miss you.” He whispers.

“Me too.” And that’s all I can say.

I leave the campus for the last time, hopping in my car to head to the station and start anew.

Second leads always leave in the end, they leave and let the two main leads have a happy ending. That’s what it felt like I was doing, and I couldn’t tell if I was content with my choice or not.

Two and a half months in Itaewon passes quickly.

The move into my new apartment was smooth, and it was odd to be in a bigger space than a small dorm room. It felt like I had more space than I knew what to do with.

My internship was moving along smoothly as well, everyone I had met so far were really kind and taught me a lot. I was worried about feeling out of place but I had met a few other girls not much older than me who helped me feel at home.

Being alone in a big city was unnerving, but what made it so much more comfortable was the addition of a cat that my parents had bought me as my graduation gift. She was a chartreux cat who I named Luna because I had always dreamed of naming my first cat that. My parents covered most of the costs of basic things like cat toys, a scratch post, her bed, and similar things. I thanked my parents endlessly when they came over to my apartment a week after I had moved in and gave me Luna. I wasn’t gone for too long during the day and always left food for her, she was great company when I came home and worked on projects late into the evening, curling up into my lap like the cats at the old cafe used to. She was my best friend in a city I was still getting accustomed to.

I hadn’t talked to the guys much, I’d talked with them a few times in the group chat about how their job searches were going and trips they were planning to take soon. It was nice talking with them every so often but all of us were still pretty busy moving onto the next chapter of our lives.

I hadn’t talked to Minho since I left, I’d assumed that he and Ahra were doing well, but that’s all that was, assumption. None of the boys talked about him and I couldn’t understand why, but I never asked since I was supposed to be moving on from my feelings in the first place. I thought I had been doing pretty well until something would come up that reminded me of him, like his favorite song would play in the cafe I bought my morning coffee in and spent my breaks at, or snapchat would send me “Today, 1 year ago” memories of him and me fooling around at Paws and Pastries. Whenever that would happen I’d be sent back to square one, and it felt like I’d never move on from Minho.

I was on my way out to grab a coffee and spend my off day walking around, maybe looking into a few shops when I got a call from Hyunjin.

“Y/n! My favorite girl, how are you?”

“Hyunjin? What’s with the call?”

“What? Can I not call my friends from time to time?”

“Not when you’re notorious for calling your ‘friends’ after you’ve done something wrong.” I sigh.

“That was one time! Besides, it wasn’t that bad.”

“You dragged Jeongin to a party! And got him wasted!”

“One. Time. Y/n. It was one time.”

“One time is enough for you to be in trouble for life, Hyun.”

“Okay, whatever, but I was meaning to ask you, what’re your plans for today?”

“Me? I was just planning to go out, today’s my day off so I was gonna visit this one cafe and see some shops, why?”

“No reason, what time do you think you’ll be home?”

“Maybe five?”

“Great, okay, I have to go now, Han’s calling me, bye!” Hyunjin hangs up before I can ask him what’s with the weird questions.

“Hyunjin- Oh great he hung up.” I put my phone in my pocket before looking down at Luna who’s stretching near my legs. “Your uncle Hyunjin is quite the odd one, isn’t he Luna, hm?” I ask her and she meows back in response. “Weird indeed, but that’s just how he is. Mommy’s gonna spend her day out and then she’ll come home and we can watch the TV together, okay? I’ll be home soon.” I pick up Luna and set her on her little bed before ensuring everything is safe and make my way out the door.

I spend the day eating at a large cat cafe that actually had an assortment of books with little reading areas while the cats roamed around everywhere. It was much bigger than the cafe in Gimpo, but I would always correlate that one with home.

After I spent a bit of time reading there I went out and explored the shops for a few hours, bought some new jeans and a few blouses plus some makeup things. I got Subway for lunch and explored just a little bit more before heading home. Instead of going straight home, I decided to take the long way, going through the streets not minding the extra weight the few shopping bags I was holding in my hands gave me. The sun was just barely beginning to set as I walked into my apartment complex, getting into the elevator and pressing the button for my floor.

I walk down the hallway to my door and am surprised when a familiar figure greets me there.

“Minho?” I say as I walk closer.

“Y/n!” He says happily, bringing me into a hug.

“What are you doing here? Actually- Wait- Don’t answer that, do you wanna come inside?” I ask him.

“Sure.” He responds.

I unlock the door and bring my bags in, setting them by the door. “Luna! Mommy’s home!” I call out automatically.

Luna meows and comes out of the bedroom, walking her way up to me before I pick her up.

“You got a cat?” Minho asks.

“Yeah, parents brought her to me about a week after I moved in.” I put Luna back down and she moves to sit on the arm of the couch, her favorite spot to sit when the sun goes down.

“And you named her Luna,” He smiles fondly. “You always wanted to name your cat Luna.”

“I’m surprised you remember that.” I chuckle. “Do you want some coffee?”

“Sure.”

“I’ll get that brewing, just give me a few minutes, you can take a seat on the couch and make yourself at home!” I tell him as I quickly retreat to the kitchen.

I have to take a few breaths when I’m far away enough from Minho, my heart beating just as fast as it would when I was around him back then. It was clear I hadn’t moved on at all.

I brew the coffee as promised and wait next to the coffee machine with two mugs ready. A voice chimes in behind me.

“Your place is much bigger than the dorms.” He chuckles.

“Tell me about it, it was so weird buying more furniture than I was used to.” I laugh with him.

The machine finishes brewing the coffee and I pour it into the two mugs, putting it on a tray with creamer and sugar before bringing it all to the coffee table in front of the couch.

Minho and I take seats on the couch, separated by a bit of space between us while we sip on our respective mugs.

“So,” I start the conversation. “How’s home?”

“Not too bad, same old same old, the guys being annoying as usual, you know?” He says.

“Sounds fun.” I chuckle. “And work, have you found anything yet?”

“Not yet, I’ve got a few applications out, but I’m still waiting on some answers.”

“I’m sure you’ll get them soon.” I respond.

An uncomfortable silence sets over the both of us, and I run my free hand through Luna’s fur who’s situated herself in my lap this time. I take a long sip of my coffee before asking another question.

“How’s… How are you and Ahra?”

“Oh…” He trails off. “We broke up a few weeks ago.”

“I’m sorry to hear that…” I had no idea that he and Ahra had broken up, in fact that was the completely opposite of what I thought had happened since they seemed to work together so well.

“Yeah, it was a mutual thing. We didn’t really feel that kind of connection anymore, you know? So we just, broke it off.”

“Are you okay?” I ask Minho.

“Me? Yeah, I’m actually not as affected as I thought I’d be, I don’t know if that makes me a cruel person or not but I was only sad for the first week or two. Nothing too bad.”

“I see.” Another silence settles between us. This one is longer, more tense, there was something Minho wanted to ask but he wasn’t sure, and I couldn’t depict what question he was going to ask.

“Actually, I came her for a reason.” He says.

“And what reason is that?” I ask hesitantly.

“For answers.” My brows furrow, answers for what? “There’s something Hyunjin told me recently and it got me thinking, and I wanted to hear it from you if it was true.”

I finish my coffee and place it down delicately on the coffee table, trying not to show how nervous I was with how badly my hands were shaking. “I’ll see if I have answers for you then.”

“When you told me you were leaving, you said you had some, things, to figure out on your own. What was it that you had to figure out?”

I take a moment to decide exactly how I was going to answer his question. Did I want to expose my feelings to him just yet? “Just, feelings.” I say vaguely.

“For?”

“Just feelings for somebody.”

“Is it Hyunjin?”

“No.”

“Chan?”

“Nope.”

“Changbin?”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Me?”

I pause for just a half second, and apparently that was all Minho needed. “I guess Hyunjin’s big mouth was right after all.”

“Wait- What? What are you talking about?”

Minho takes a long sip of his coffee before finishing letting out a sigh after swallowing, he slowly sets the mug on the table before making direct eye contact with me and silently killing me with the suspense. “Minho please just say something you’re killing me here.”

He only chuckles in response. “Hyunjin told me not too long ago that you took up the offer to work here because you were going to sort out your feelings, for me.” He says sweetly as I suck in a breath at his last words.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Minho-“

“Now now, Y/n, we shouldn’t hide things from each other anymore, should we?” His sweet, sultry voice was affecting me greatly as he leaned closer to me on the couch. I gulp and silently curse when Luna, the only thing keeping me sane, leaves the comfort of my lap for her scratch-post.

“Minho…” I let out quietly.

“Tell me, Kitten, is it true?” He asks once again.

“I-“ My voice catches in my throat when Minho leans in ever nearer, still making direct eye-contact with me. “Yes, it is.” I sigh out and Minho backs away.

“He was right.” Minho whispers while my gaze drops to my hands that I fiddle with in my lap at the secret that��s let out. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m sorry.” I whisper.

“Why are you sorry darling?” He asks softly and uses his thumb and forefinger to tilt my head up by my chin.

“I couldn’t tell you because I knew you didn’t feel the same, and then when you got together with Ahra we drifted apart because it hurt me to see you with her. Then I left and told you about me leaving so last minute. I made you cry, Minho, and I hate that I did. But I couldn’t see any other way out of it. I hurt you because I was cowardly and didn’t want to be selfish by telling you and having your attention move off of Ahra, when I was really being selfish by not telling you and hurting you in the end.” More tears escape my eyes as we look at each other.

“Princess, no…” He cups my face with his hands and uses his thumbs to wipe away my tears. “I’ll admit, it did hurt when you told me that you were leaving the day of, but I understood where you were coming from. Because you were right, I would have done something crazy to keep you by my side. Do you know why?” He asks, and I shake my head, still crying. “Because I need you by my side, kitten, even when I was dating Ahra I felt off but just didn’t pay any mind to it because I had her. But now I know it’s because you and I were drifting apart, I found out when after you left and me and Ahra broke up because I felt empty. I couldn’t text you to just come over anymore because you’re farther away from me now. I lied earlier, I said that I sent out some applications for jobs but didn’t get any answers yet, right?” I nod. “I got offered a job as a software engineer, here, in Itaewon, and I said yes.”

“Why?” I whisper.

“Because I want to be near you, I need to be by your side Y/n, because I love you.” I let out a sob at his confession and he coos, bringing me to rest my head on his chest and rubbing his hands on my back and running them through my hair.

“I love you too.” I say after a few minutes.

Minho brings me out of his hold, and cups my face again. For the first time, he kisses me. His lips brush over mine before deepening the kiss, taking full charge of it yet somehow still being soft with me. His kisses were nothing short of addicting, and I knew I’d be in love with him for a long time.

In that moment, kissing the man of my dreams, I remember that it may be rare that a second lead gets their own happy ending, but it’s not unheard of. Sometimes the main lead and second lead do end up with their own happily ever after.

Notes from the author: I have FINALLY posted something y’all 😂 took a few months but she’s here, and she’s dishing out something at least. I don’t know how often I’ll be posting again, esp with school and whatnot, but I do know I need to drain out my drafts because phew, it’s getting a little full in there.

But anyways, I hope you enjoyed this fic! I’m pretty sure it’s one of the longest I’ve written if not the longest. Hopefully it wasn’t too bad, I’m probably a little rusty but we can fix that (i think)

if you want more I still have my old stuff up on my masterlist on my account! hope to see you around :))

-nyx

#skz ff #skz fluff #skz fanfic #skz fanfiction #stray kids fanfiction #minho fluff #skz minho fluff #skz angst #yOU KNOW I KNOW LEE KNOW #skz lee know #lee know #lee know x y/n #tags are annoying sigh #lee minho fanfiction #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fic #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst

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mandoalorian · 3 years

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Pain Is For The Living [Javier Peña x F!Reader] - Chapter 4 [SMUT]

Summary: Sex work in the heat of 1980’s Colombia was never going to be a walk in the park. Especially not when you had a crush on your number one client, agent Javier Peña. You’d been warned about him and his reputation, but after one very specific incident that would change your life forever, you find yourself attached to him like never before and you’d do anything to make him yours. Even if it means endangering your own life.

Rating: 18+

Warnings: SMUT: fingering, cunnigless, female receiving oral, (loss of virginity kind of), so much sexual tension. And more feelings! Unrequited love... or is it?

Word count: 3300

Pain Is For The Living Masterlist

* Reblogs appreciated and my ko-fi is linked in my bio if you wish to support my writing!

Neither you or Javier could sleep that night. At least, not at first. Javier’s bedroom was, although decently sized, pretty empty. You figured he wasn’t the type of guy to keep momentums anyway. His closet was small and you imagined the rainbow array of shirts that were neatly hung up, one-by-one. Staring at the ceiling at two in the morning doing your damn hardest not to think about what happened back at the brothel was proving to be very, very difficult, and you’d do anything to catch a distraction.

Sleeping in his bed though, meant you could seize the perfect opportunity to get to know him better without exactly confronting him. Everything in Javi’s room was brown, an ugly shade of brown too. He clearly didn’t care much for interior design, although you did find it odd that his front room was majorly decked out in nice furniture, and yet every other room in his small apartment felt… empty. Rolling over, you quietly opened the drawer on his nightstand. It was hard to see, being that all the lights were out and it was the middle of the night, but you could just about make out the contents. Half a pack of cigarettes, two lighters, many many condoms (which was strange since Javi almost always insisted that he go bareback whenever you two were intimate), sleeping pills and a passport.

Javier couldn’t sleep either, even though he’d drunkenly fallen asleep on that couch plenty of times. He was thinking of you; not only replaying the fact he said your name while he was fucking Nina, but also the fact that you wanted to kiss him. And honestly? He wanted to kiss you too. Javier balled his hand into a fist as he felt his chest tighten. He seriously wanted to kiss you too.

His thought process halted when he heard you shuffling down the hallway, your hesitant footsteps tip-toeing into the living room and turning on one of the amber colored lamps. Your shy frame was highlighted perfectly in the shadows and Javier simply couldn’t take his eyes off you, strictly in awe of your beauty.

“Javi?” you asked, tiredly rubbing your eyes. You had spotted him lounging on the couch, shirtless with the same crocheted blanket you had slept in, now draped across his lower half.

“Hermosa,” his voice was rich and rasp. “You’re still awake.” the statement came out as an observation, more so than a question.

You fumbled a little with your words before eventually sighing and nodding your head. “Yeah.”

“Is my bed not comfortable enough?” Javier enquired, leaning over to the coffee table and turning on another lamp, now illuminating his side of the room.

You chuckled lightly. “A lot more comfortable than the beds back at the brothel, that’s for sure.” you replied, and Javier nodded knowingly.

“Something on your mind?” Javier prodded further.

Yeah, him.

When you didn’t reply, Javier extended his arm and ushered you over. You sat down next to him, on the edge of his sofa, and remained silent. But the way you could feel his chocolate coloured eyes bore into you was enough to create a cluster of nervous butterflies in the pit of your stomach. He must’ve been up for a while, because the entire atmosphere stunk of tobacco. It wasn’t bad though, it was just… Javi. His honeyed voice interrupted the silence.

“I’m sorry about earlier, about the uh-- the whole kiss thing.” He said, shuffling upwards awkwardly, his hand remaining clutched on the crocheted blanket.

“Pay it no mind,” You replied maybe a little too quickly. You’d rather just forget about the incident, and not come to terms with just how upset his rejection had made you. “It’s um…” you looked up at the ceiling and then back at Javier. “...hard, to stay distracted, when I’m alone. I was fine with Connie and Steve. I was fine with you. But… sleeping alone is hard.”

Javier nodded understandingly. “I know how it feels to need a bed warmer, believe me,”

You came to the sudden conclusion that being a ‘bed warmer’ was all you ever were to Javier, no matter how much more you yearned for. That’s all you’d ever be.

“Although I suppose that’s not exactly what you meant,” Javier continued. “Is it?”

“I wouldn’t know,” you replied quietly. “I mean guys come to me all the time for that quick release. To feel less lonely. But I’ve never really sought out the same thing, you know?”

“Never?” Javier asked, quirking an eyebrow. “Not even a hook-up?”

You shook your head and scratched the back of your neck. “I uh-- I was a virgin before I moved to Colombia,” you laughed wearily.

Javier’s reaction was priceless. His eyes became apologetic and his jaw loosened. “You haven’t been here long,” he grumbled. “Tell me, have you only slept with the guys from the brothel?”

You looked down at your hands feeling slightly ashamed and nodded your head. Javier’s hand found your chin and he tilted it upwards, forcing your gaze to lock with his.

“I’m sorry.” he muttered.

You furrowed your eyebrows together in bewilderment. “Sorry for what? Working here was my choice.”

“No,” Javi said quickly, placing a hand over your thigh, his dark eyes not diverting from your face once. “I know what the guys are like there,” Javier said, shaking his head. “Hell, I know what I’m like. I had no idea…” Javier paused for a moment before continuing. “Was-- was I your first?”

You smiled at him and shook your head ‘no’, and Javier looked somewhat relieved.

“Tell me cariño, do they make you feel good?”

You thought about the question but practically knew the answer immediately. No. Because sex at the brothel was never for pleasure, it was for rent money. It was to put food on your table and to wear clothes that fit.

“Only you Javi,” you replied softly, your hand finding his as you began to trace circles into his skin. “Only you have made me cum.” you confessed.

It wasn’t necessarily anything he’d done, because you’d only ever given Javier blowjobs and let him put it in you. It was more so the fact you were in his personal company, and you were so deeply attracted to him.

Javier chuckled dryly and shook his head. “That can’t be true hermosa,” he sighed. “I’ve been so selfish with you. If I had known, I would’ve fucked you real good. I would’ve made it good for you. I mean it.”

He sounded mad at himself, even though there was truly no way he could understand your circumstances.

“I can make you feel good. I can… distract you, if that’s really what you need,” he promised. “Just say the word.”

His voice had lowered considerably, and his words alone were enough to create a pool of arousal between your thighs. You were almost scared to think about the wet patch you’d leave on the sofa beneath you as his large hand travelled up your thigh and underneath his shirt that he’d given you to wear.

“Please.” you nodded breathlessly as Javier fiddled with the hem.

“Tell me you want it.” he urged as he tugged at the bottom button.

You swallowed thickly and nodded your head harder this time. “I want it, Javi. Please. I want you.”

“Lay back,” Javier ordered, pushing you into the sofa where he had originally been laying.

Your skin flushed with heat as Javier carefully opened your legs and positioned his head in between your soft thighs. “Your cunt looks so sweet,” Javier praised, a throaty moan escaping his lips as he rubbed his thumb between your soft wet folds. “Have you ever let a man taste you before?”

“No,” you squeaked as his thumb found your clit. He rubbed small and tight circles over your bundle of nerves, but his movements were achingly slow. “No man has wanted to.”

Javier huffed. “That’s not true, I promise,” he replied, tapping his thumb over your clit. You gasped longingly, your entire body tensing up. He drew back from you and looked at you, wanting to make sure that you were okay. He could see the way your nipples had hardened and were poking through the shirt he had given you, and it made his cock twitch with excitement underneath the blanket. “Hey pretty girl, relax. I need you to relax.”

You whimpered understandingly and took a deep breath before closing your eyes.

“Look how wet you are.” Javier said, leaning back down and licking his lips. The richness in his voice alone spread through your body like wildfire. He pressed a kiss into your mound, his mustache tickling your skin before lowering his head even further down. The curve of his nose bumped against your clit and you felt yourself clench around nothing, needing him so desperately.

Then, without warning, Javier slid his tongue in between your wet folds, gliding it up and down. Obscene wet sounds filled the room and if you weren’t already seeing stars, you might have even been slightly embarrassed. Your hands, that were once clenched around the curve of a cushion, had instinctively wormed their way into Javier’s chocolate coloured hair.

Once Javier had you spread open, his tongue became more dexterous and began to flick over your clit; up and down, up and down. He was skillful, to say the least. Occasionally though, he’d stop his movements, bringing you down from your high, only to start again. He was teasing you so much, but he was completely right. No man had ever made you feel this good. No man had ever cared about your own pleasure, other than Javier of course. His lips latched onto your sweet spot and he began to suck on it longingly, groaning wantonly against you and pushing vibrations through your core.

“Taste so fucking good, fuck,” Javier cursed, pulling off your cunt with a pop as he regained his breath. “Better than I imagined.”

And just like that… the nervous butterflies came fluttering back. He’d imagined this.

Javier found the way you shivered adorable and it only spurred him on, wanting nothing more than to bring you to the greatest heights of your pleasure. Your perfect sweetness glossed over his lips as he lapped your wetness up like a starved man, and your writhing beneath him didn’t stop once. You tugged on his hair as you felt your climax build up.

Recognising that you were close, Javier, pushed two of his fingers inside of you, scissoring them and stretching you open. Finally you could clench around something. His mouth didn’t stop though, and his tongue became faster and faster as he pumped his fingers inside of you.

Javier curled his fingers and they pushed against your special spot, your body involuntarily arching with pleasure and a long moan of his name leaving your lips.

“Oh yeah, that��s it, isn’t it?” Javier asked, a wicked smile crossing his lips. “Right there huh? You like that?”

You couldn’t even fathom words, only his name leaving your lips in the form of a chant as he continued his movements. You weren’t going to last, and he knew it too. In fact, Javier was too busy focusing on giving you pleasure, he hadn’t even realised the way his cock was leaking too, desperate for some kind of attention.

It was incredibly erotic, every time you looked down and saw Javier’s fingers get lost inside of you as he ravished your cunt. He was so good at it, you had no doubt he’d done it a million times before. One last thrust of his two fingers sent you into a frenzy as your cunt clenched around his fingers, and you came undone.

You were a heaving, gasping mess, and Javier had left you unlike anyone had ever left you before. As he pulled his hand away from you, your cunt continued to clench around nothing and your thighs were twitching as the pleasure raced through your veins.

Javier’s fingers shone with your wet arousal and he brought them up to your own lips. “Look at the mess you made. Such a delicious mess,” he cooed. “Taste.”

You parted your lips and sucked your arousal from his fingers. “How was that, hm?”

You nodded wordlessly. “Th-thank you,” you mumbled, your eyes feeling heavy with post coital exhaustion. “Let me-- let me return the favour.”

“No sweet girl,” Javier said. “You need to rest.”

The agent pushed your hair out of your face and— fuck, he wanted to kiss you so bad. He wanted to kiss your pretty, swollen lips. But he just couldn’t bring himself to do so. Kissing you might only confirm these feelings he had been trying to push away. “Sleep tight hermosa.”

You mumbled something incoherent before you fell fast asleep, your smile not fading away once. Javier removed his blanket and wrapped it over your body. That was when he realised he’d came too. He hadn’t even done anything… nothing to pleasure himself, but he’d come just from pleasuring you. That had never happened before.

He cursed to himself, reaching for the box of tissues that he kept on the coffee table and wiped himself down. Padding into the kitchen, Javier made you a glass of water and set it down next to you, just in case you woke up thirsty during the night.

He remembered your words. ‘Sleeping alone is hard.’

Javier brought his pillows, duvet and blankets from his bedroom and set them down on the floor so he was laying next to you. The last thing he wanted was for you to wake up alone and be in a panic. He considered just lifting you up and taking you to his own bed, that way he wouldn’t have to take the floor, but he just didn’t want to risk waking you.

Javier barely slept that night, his mind active and his thoughts racing a million times an hour. Did he regret what just happened? No, absolutely not. He’d do it a million times over. But that didn’t make it right. Sure, he’d slept with his informants many times but you were different. He already had a past relationship with you, he already knew you. And he felt like he had some kind of responsibility for you. Romantic relationships never ended well for Javier, so he could only hope that whatever you and him had going on, would remain strictly sexual. No feelings. There was no need for feelings. No time for relationships in the middle of this mess.

———

Javier really didn’t want to wake you, but he had to go to work, and he wasn’t willing to leave you home alone. Besides, you were his informant. And the DEA needed information.

When you woke up, you were fine, much to both yours and Javier’s surprise. The bliss from the night before still hadn’t escaped your memory, and had set you on course for a pretty good day ahead. Javier couldn’t really cook (minus paella), and so you both swallowed down some dry toast and you finished your glass of water.

Javier got a phone call just before the both of you were about to leave. It was brief, and ended just as you threw over one of his denim jackets that he’d loaned you. “DEA sent a couple of guys over to your place to pick up your possessions. You’ll be able to get changed once we arrive at the office.”

You nod your head gratefully, but then stop as Javier heads out the front door. “Wait, I didn’t give anyone my key.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Javier replied. “They will have found another way in.”

You weren’t sure how much you liked the idea of a bunch of strange cops breaking into your tiny apartment but nonetheless, you were just glad to have fresh and clean clothes. Not that you minded living in Javier’s pale yellow button down, but if you were going to be visiting DEA offices and God knows where else, you at least wanted to be dressed appropriately.

Javier told you to wait in the car while he nipped inside to grab your clothes. He handed the duffel bag to you through the car window and waited for you to get changed so the both of you could walk into the office together.

His office was bigger than you imagined, and spacious too. Despite it being pretty early in the morning, all the desks were filled and it seemed like the agents were hard at work.

“This is Luisa,” Javier pointed at the receptionist. “This is where we clock in and out of work. If we ever go out on impulse stake-outs or find the need to follow a lead, we gotta sign our name. It’s dumb, really.”

“Only Agent Peña never signs his name. Neither does Agent Murphy. Both of ‘em are as bad as each other.” Luisa laughed.

Javier rolled his eyes. “Pipe down Luisa,” he replied jokingly, his eyes darting to her hands. “Is that a new nail colour? Hmph, suits you.” he charmed before whisking you to the next station.

“There is Messina’s office,” Javier pointed through a narrow hallway towards an opaque glass door at the very end. “She thinks she runs the place but she’s only just transferred here.”

“Here is where I work,” Javier sighed, tapping his finger on a desk which was stacked high with paperwork. The tapping had clearly alerted the blonde haired man, who you remembered from yesterday. “And this is my partner Steve, sleeping on duty.” Javier tsked and Steve’s tired frown only deepened.

“Olivia been keepin’ us up all night,'' Steve groaned before standing up and shaking your hand. “Nice to see you here,” he said politely. “Has Javier given you a tour of the place?”

You nodded and smiled, already not hating the environment.

“Yeah. Everyone seems nice.”

You must’ve spoken too soon because in that very moment, none other than CIA Agent Bill Stechner came waltzing over, his lips curled into a smug grin.

“Well well well,” he observed, looking you up and down with judgement in his blue eyes. “What do we have here?”

Before you could reply, the man turned to Javier. “Peña, you know we don’t usually allow whores to wander the office.”

You flinched at his comment, your eyes narrowing at the unwarranted attack. Javier though, saw red, his own eyes darting up to look at Bill.

“She’s my informant.” Javier snapped back, trying his damn hardest to keep it together.

“I know who she is,” Bill seethed.

“Get the fuck outta here, Bill.” Steve sighed, standing up, his chair scraping against the floor.

Bill raised both of his hands defensively, almost as if he had done nothing wrong, and laughed darkly. With an innocent shrug of his shoulders he walked away and left you standing there, speechless.

Javier didn’t say a word, only pinched the bridge of his nose and got his head stuck straight into some paperwork.

“Yeah, you don’t wanna fuck with the CIA guys. They’re assholes.” Steve informed, his eyes glancing back over to Bill who was now sitting at his own desk. It was like the confrontation had never even happened.

“Noted.” you gulped.

“Take a seat, grab a coffee. Make yourself at home.” Steve told you.

Home. I guess this was where you’d be staying for the foreseeable future.

-—-—-—♡—-—-—-

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#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal smut #javier peña #javier pena x reader #javi pena #narcos

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forever-rogue · 3 years

Text

Hot Chocolate Kisses

A/N: It’s nothing much, but it is something so tender and soft. I love Frankie and fluff! Why not have both? Tis a little thank/happy holiday gift from me to you. Enjoy 💕

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: pregnant reader, references to sex, sweet sweet fluff!

FRANKIE MORALES MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

"Good morning," the sound of his soft voice accompanied by the feel of his arms around your midsection was enough to make your heart flutter. He placed a soft kiss to your shoulder before resting his head there and humming in content, "how are you, honey bee?"

"Good morning, mi amor," you replied softly, taking one of his hands that had been resting on the gentle swell of your belly and bringing to your lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles, "I'm perfect. What about you, Frankie? Did you rest well?"

"Like a dream," he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head before reluctantly letting go and moving towards the coffee pot. Once he poured a cup and made it to his liking, he came over, and followed your line of sight out into the yard.

There was nothing but mountains of glittering snow coating the entire neighborhood as far as the eye could see. Small children were already playing outside, all bundled up in thick snow jackets and woolen hats, while dogs ran around their yards barking and biting at soft, fat flakes that were gently drifting down from the heavens.

"Record snowfalls," you looked at him with excited eyes, "which means we are snowed in and work is canceled. Do I even try to pretend to be upset?"

"Hell no," his smile was infectious as his singular dimple appeared and his soft eyes crinkled in the corners the way you adored, "I get to spend the say being lazy at home with my girl? I'm not going to argue with that."

"You know what today calls for," your eyes were wide and bright as the two of you knew exactly what a snow day meant. You'd come up with your own little traditions a long time ago and always pulled them out on days like this.

"You just want an excuse for hot chocolate!" Frankie's tone was lovingly accusing as he crossed his arms over his chest as he took a sip from his mug.

"No!" you insisted firmly, offering him a small little pout, "your daughter is craving some. Ever since you knocked me up that's all I've been wanting! And I don't need any excuse for hot chocolate. Hot chocolate isn't a crime!"

"First of all, this -" he pointed tenderly to the small bump just visible under your sweater, "was a team effort. Secondly, you've always loved my hot chocolate, long before any of this. She had nothing to do with this!”

"Obviously," you stuck your tongue out at him, "but you make it all fancy and gourmet. How can I say no? She's not helping though! I swear it's a craving."

“Your mamá is already using you as an excuse,” he laughed as he rested his hand on your belly. You instantly felt her move and flutter under his touch; she always seemed to be more active when he was around. Even though you were trying to have a seriously teasing conversation, the moment was enough to make your heart melt, “can you believe it, mija? She just doesn’t want to admit she’s addicted to the world’s best hot chocolate.”

“I can quit it any time I want,” you snorted with laughter at his silly antics, “I just choose not to. Now, don’t deny your pregnant wife what she wants!”

“What does she want?” there was a wicked little glint in his eye as you raised a brow at him.

“Well for starters,” you pointed at the cabinet, “some hot chocolate later. But how about breakfast for now? And a warm bath after that? I swear I’m getting as bad as you old man, my back is killing me.”

“Hey now,” he warned with a small boop to your nose, “you’re getting awfully cheeky for someone who wants my hot chocolate. You’re on very thin ice, honey bee.”

“You know I’m only kidding, Francisco,” you gave him a quick kiss as you went to the refrigerator to start gathering ingredients for breakfast, “besides, you’re my favorite DILF.”

“Oh no,” his laughter was a loud, beautiful thing as it sounded throughout the kitchen. You turned to him and shot him a cheeky little wink, “not you too! Everyone’s calling me that lately, I swear.”

“They can look but they can’t touch. I mean, have you seen yourself Frankie? You’re handsome as hell, you’re amazing, wonderful, kind. Everything,” you insisted as you rejoined his side, You could already see the light flush of color in his cheeks as he relished your words, “and you’re all mine. Besides, I’m half the reason you’re a DILF. Where is my recognition in all of this?”

“I love you, honey bee,” he stared at you in awe for a moment before turning so he could kiss you properly. It took you by surprise but it took even less to respond back; kissing him was such saccharine bliss, “you are everything to me.”

“Good,” you beamed at him, “now let’s get this ultimate lazy day started!”

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Those might have been our best pancakes ever,” you wolfed down the last syrupy bite before pushing away your empty plate, “I feel as stuffed as a damn turkey.”

“You’re the most beautiful and radiant turkey I have ever laid eyes on,” he joked as you lovingly groaned at his silly words, “I’ll clean up and you can start the bath. Plan?”

“Plan,” you agreed as you slid off the bar stool and started padding towards the kitchen. As Frankie busied himself with gathering up the empty dishes, you turned around and watched him for a moment, nothing but a gentle warmth radiating throughout your body, “Frankie? You’re going to join me, right?”

He turned to you and offered you his megawatt smile as he slowly nodded, a rogue curl bouncing around and falling onto his forehead. Gods, he was so effortlessly handsome and sweet. You couldn’t stop yourself from rushing over to him, delicately grabbing his face as you pressed a kiss to his lips, still tasting the faint sweetness of the syrup, “what was that for?”

“Nothing,” you grinned breathlessly, “I just love you is all.”

“Oh,” a flush of pink tinged his cheeks as he brought his hands to your face, delicately tracing over your features before pressing the softest kiss to your lips, “I love you too.”

“I know,” you beamed, “now hurry up so we can take a bath!”

»»————-　♡　————-««

You were humming under your breath, sitting at the edge of the large tub as you watched it fill up with warm water. There weren’t very many requirements you had when the two of you had been house hunting before deciding to expand your family - but a large bathtub was one of them. Moments like this made you glad for it; you loved being able to slip into the tub, often dragging along Frankie with you, not that he had any complaints of course. It was perfect for the two of you, and now that you seemed to be growing by the day, it was even better.

Pulling your favorite bottle of bubble bath off the shelf, you poured some in, inhaling deeply at the relaxing scent. All the stress and worries you had were already dissolving away with each passing second. Once you were satisfied with the copious amounts of soft bubbles, you threw in some Epsom salt for good measure, hoping it would help your aching body. Deciding to make it even more festive, you grabbed the speaker from your bedroom, and turned it on, opting to play some soft Christmas music in the background. It wasn’t like you were going to be paying much attention to it anyway; your conversations with Frankie always seemed endless, no matter how long the two of you had been together.

“Close your eyes,” Frankie came into the bathroom just as you were finishing getting everything ready. You closed your eyes, making a show of putting your hands over your eyes as you heard him shuffling in, “okay, pick a hand - left or right.”

“Hmmm…” you mused for a moment, “how about left?”

“Lucky guess,” he chuckled as he pulled your hands from your eyes. A little grin spread across your features when you saw what he was holding in his hands, “surprise!”

“Frankie,” his name was but a mere soft sigh as you reached for the soft, cozy pajamas he was holding out to you. You could spy a matching pair for him on the counter, your heart fluttering in delight. It had become a sort of little tradition for the two of you to get new matching holiday pajamas every year. It was just some silly thing, but it still meant the world to you, “I love them. Thank you so much - you remembered.”

“Of course,” he held out his hands to you, slowly hoisting you to your feet, “I wouldn’t ever forget.”

He slowly reached for the hem of your sweater, gently pulling up and over your head and outstretched arms before tossing it on the floor. He followed suit with your bra, unclasping it before letting it join your sweater and doing the same to your leggings and underwear. It was such a small intimate thing, the way his eyes looked over you was nothing short of adoration and reverence.

“Your turn,” you whispered before starting to unbutton his flannel, taking your time to undo it one by one. Shrugging it off his shoulders, you pressed a few kisses to the soft, golden skin of his shoulder before moving onto his jeans, wicking them down his legs along with his boxers. He made a small sound in his throat before stepping out of his jeans and pulling you into his arms. The gentle coolness of his wedding band on your back was wonderful; a delicate reminder of just how much he loved you.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered as he trailed kisses along your jaw and down your neck, a hand running down your side as he rested it on your waist, taking solace in the gentle swell of your belly. He still couldn’t believe your daughter - his daughter, one that came as a small surprise and blessing was in there. One he had never known he wanted so much until you told him you were pregnant and he broke down crying, as emotional as you were. You, the two of you, were everything for him.

“Hmm,” you mused, “you’re not so bad yourself. I guess we both got pretty lucky, huh? I love you so much, Francisco. More than you will ever know.”

He looked back at you with those brown eyes you adored so much, and you could see that they were glossy, close to spilling over with tears. You reached up and touched his cheek before brushing away a stray curl.

“Come on,” he held your hand as you motioned towards the tub. He got in first, settling down before holding his arms out to you. Carefully, you settled in next to him surprising him for a moment as you occupied the other side. Before he could say anything, you gathered up a handful of bubbles, and blew them at him, watching as they stuck in his dark mop of hair, “playing dirty are we?”

“Maybe,” you splashed him with the warm water, “you have to play nice, I’m pregnant!”

“You started it!” he splashed you back as you squealed in delight, “don’t start what you can’t finish!”

“Oh, it’s on! It’s so on,” you laughed as you tried to move the bubbles closer to your half of the tub, “you’re going down!”

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Do you have enough blankets, honey?” Frankie walked back into the living room, arms filled with a few more big, fuzzy blankets. You looked up from the comfy couch, during the numerous blankets you’d already secured and gave him a big grin. You were already feeling so toasty and warm in your new pajamas after your bath, and this just made it so much better. He snorted with laughter at the sight of only your head poking out, “oh.”

“It’s freezing!” you insisted, digging your arm out and pointing at your feet, “pile them on! The only thing I’m missing is your body.”

“I have a few more things to do first,” he put the blankets down and wrapped them around your feet, “gonna start a fire and then go and make the hot chocolate. You, my little bee, are in charge of finding our first movie. Think you’re up to the challenge?”

“As if that’s a question,” you joked as you reached for the remote, as he went over to the fireplace, “you just need to hurry up!”

"You are getting so demanding," he laughed as he kneeled next to the fireplace and started to pile some of the logs in. He started to hum softly under his breath as you watched him, absolutely in awe of the man you were able to call your husband. The sight of him in the same pajamas as you was endearing and caused you a moment of pause as you pictured doing this next year with him and your daughter.

You often wondered what she would like, although you both knew that the only thing that mattered was that she was healthy and sound. But a small part of you hoped she'd take after Frankie, to have those gentle chocolate eyes and dark curls. Maybe she'd take after you, or maybe -

"Everything alright?" Frankie turned and caught your distant gaze on him as she started to light the fire. You hadn't realized you'd gotten so lost in your little daydream.

"Yes," you smiled at him, "just thinking..."

"Thinking about...."

"Its silly..."

"If it matters to you then it's not silly," he insisted, making a small sound of satisfaction when the fire started to crackle away merrily.

"I was just thinking about next year," you admitted shyly, "you know how we do the matching pjs every year? I think it would be fun to do that with the bean next year."

"I love the sound of that," he agreed, "that'll make a great Christmas card!"

"Yeah," you agreed as he brought you a pillow to rest your head on, "you really do think of everything, don't you?"

"Only for my bee," he promised with a wink and a kiss, "I'll go and make the hot chocolate. Classic for you today?"

"Surprise me!"

"Be back," he promised as pointed at the television, "now pick something good out!"

»»————-　♡　————-««

It seemed like it had been a small eternity since Frankie had left to go on his little adventure of hot chocolate making, and you'd long since found a suitable movie. You started it but kept it paused as you waited. But soon you felt a flutter in your belly. A contented sigh escaped your lips as you put your hand on your tummy where you felt her moving around.

"I know baby bean," you told her gently, "I miss him too. Even when he's gone only for a few minutes. You're gonna love him so much, just like me. He's going to be the best papá. We already love you so much. We can't wait to meet you."

"Talking to yourself?" just in time your knight in cozy pajamas came striding back in with two delicious steaming mugs of hot chocolate.

"I am never alone anymore," you reminded him as he came and cozied up next to you, "I've always got the bean. And we were having a private conversation, thank you very much."

"Please don't let me interrupt," he passed your mug over before pulling blankets over his form and you curled up in his side. You grinned at the full mug, admiring how perfectly he had made it. It was a classic, a layer of mini marshmallows followed by a layer of whipped cream and drizzled with chocolate and caramel syrup.

"Thank you, Frankie," you beamed as you took a long sip, savoring the creamy sweetness on your tongue. You heard a soft chuckle before Frankie reached over and wiped off the whipped cream from your nose, "oops!"

"Good?" he asked as you nodded eagerly. Before he could stop himself, he leaned over and gave you a soft, saccharine little kiss. He lingered against your lips and you could taste the sweetness of the hot chocolate that was clinging onto him. He grinned before giving you a few more pecks, each sweeter than the last, "even better. Now, start this movie and let's get this marathon on the road!"

You clutched your mug to your chest as Frankie brought an arm over your shoulders and you pressed play on your first cheesy holiday movie.

»»————-　♡　————-««

It wasn't long before you felt your eyes start to get heavy as you finished your mug of hot chocolate. You were about to move it to the coffee table, but Frankie beat you to the punch, grabbing it from your hands and setting down before pulling you into his lap.

He wrapped his arms around you as you laid against his chest and let the soft rise and fall of his chest relax and lull you.

Soon enough your eyes closed and everything seemed distant. You didn't even try to fight it as Frankie pressed a kiss to your cheek. One hand was holding yours, your fingers laced together and the other was resting on your belly. It wasn't long before you were completely under the siren spell of sleep and snoring quietly in his arms.

"I love you, honey bee," he whispered ever so gently as he relaxed too, growing more tired by the second, "and you too, baby bee. You two are everything."

»»————-　♡　————-««

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#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x fem!reader #frankie morales x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #triple frontier #francisco catfish morales #cattfish morales x reader

421 notes · View notes

fan-of-encouragement · 3 years

Text

Honey I'm Still Free

This is a commissioned fic that @danniburgh wrote for me, and I'm absolutely In Love. Her commissions are open as of posting this, and she's amazing.

Marcus Pike × F!reader

No warnings, just fluff and mention of Marcus's past bad relationships.

He was new.

A new face to know.

And he was cheerful; almost too cheerful.

He was happy; you met him as a happy man, self realized, self assured, self-centered but not egotistical; he was kind, and he was good. And he was happy.

Marcus Pike arrived at the D.C. FBI office and you were the one that gave him the welcome tour; in between directions and pointings at where which room was located and who worked where, he told you almost everything about himself and that kicked off an unexpected friendship. One that began inside the four walls of his office and the four walls of yours, and the glass walls of the shared conference room that separated them and that most often than not, was used as a lunch room.

When you met Marcus, he was a once divorced, newly engaged man that was waiting patiently for his bride to arrive and live with him what he described as a life he wanted; he told you everything he had to tell about his girlfriend and how he felt, deep inside of him, that she was the one.

Until she broke up with him.

Then, as if by magic, or as if someone had flicked a switch, Marcus changed.

You didn’t understand, whenever you analyzed it, why a woman would leave a man like him; whenever you put a little bit of thought on the matter you came to the same conclusion: there was no good reason. The truth of the matter was, even having met Marcus for no more than a month when that went down, that he was a good man. And everyone that walked around him or worked with him or even talked to him knew it.

Marcus Pike was a good man with a good, kind, warm soul that radiated nothing but care and love for others; he was stern and he was good at his job; he managed a team like no other agent you saw before but, at the end of the workday; when all the reports had been signed, when all the field agents had called in and Marcus lit his desk lamp to finish the last of the paperwork of the day, when the floor was quiet enough to hear the cars drive sporadically on the highway next to the building, he was craving for something more. Something he didn’t have and he was desperate for. Love.

Six months into you knowing Marcus, as he laughed at a bad joke you told him, with his head thrown back and his lids closed and the wrinkles on the sides of his eyes showing at full contrast, you realized you had fallen in love with him.

But you didn’t fight it; it felt right. You knew he was still struggling with the fact that two serious relationships in his life had failed in what he described as a miserable, sad, incredibly stupid manner.

The remnants of that pain were still noticeable; when he looked outside the window for more time that he wanted to admit, whenever he heard a certain song on the radio, whenever someone mentioned any lines from Casablanca, the glowing ashes of the hot, scorching pain he had yet to get rid of and extinguish could be seen from his eyes.

You knew and you understood him; he needed time; he needed support to get out of the house in flames he was inside of because of people that didn’t know what they wanted. And you, as he hugged you goodbye, resolved you were gonna be there for him.

As you drove home, you realized there was some selfishness behind your resolution; but you figured out as much. You were in love with him, and besides trying to help him be himself; as you had met him or better, you hoped, just further back in your mind and your heart, he would notice you were there. Waiting for him to be the man he wanted to be.

When you opened your front door and you slipped out of your shoes, you thought of how would he react if you told him you were falling in love with him; you knew he wouldn’t let you wait for him like a damsel expecting a brave prince or a knight in shiny armor galloping to you on a mighty stallion. But you weren’t dropping everything until he decided he was better… You were just hoping he would notice you were there. And that was rightfully enough reason for you to do it.

And you were his friend.

The next morning you texted him before going out to work if he was in the mood for some pancakes; immediately getting a big YES in all caps as a response. You drove to your favorite diner; which had quickly become his too. And walked out of there with two white plastic bags filled with pancakes for him and waffles for you.

“Oh my god, bless you!” Marcus let out as you walked into his office with the two big bags. You gave him a smile as he moved his stuff to the side so you could put the bags down.

“Since when are you devoted, Mr. Pike?” you teased, when you put the bags on the desk and pushed his towards the other side, towards him.

“Since my best friend brings me breakfast,” he raised his eyebrows and pulled out the styrofoam packet from the bag and a plastic fork “how much do I owe you?” Marcus asked as he opened the plate and bit his lower lip when the chocolate chip and strawberry pancakes saluted him from the dish.

“Nothing?” you replied, doing the same with your honey caramel waffles, Marcus rolled his eyes.

“Then lunch is on me.” he shrugged, lifting his tie and loosening it a bit from around his neck, throwing it on his shoulder, you scoffed and saw him dig into the pancakes with a small smile adorning your features.

“The least you could do, baby.” you teased, making him smile through his pancake bite.

When lunch hour arrived that same day; he knocked on your door and opened it before you could say come in. He stuck his head inside your office and smiled at you.

“Lunch?” he asked with his eyebrows raised and his small smirk on his face, you reciprocated his smile and nodded, standing up from your chair and closing your computer.

“What are we ordering?” you asked as you walked around your desk and he opened the door wide.

“No, we’re going out.” he let out lowly. You narrowed your eyes as you crossed the threshold and he started walking towards the elevators.

“To what do I owe this honor?” you asked, following him, Marcus chuckled.

“What do you mean?” he said as he clicked the elevator button to call it.

“You’ve never taken me out to lunch, Marcus.” you remarked, the elevator doors opened and he frowned.

“Really?” he questioned, you nodded and hummed in affirmation as the both of you walked into the metal box. “why?” he chuckled.

“What do you mean why?” you laughed at his reaction.

“I mean…” he started, crossing his arms on his chest “we’ve been close almost since I arrived, don’t we?” you nodded with a small smile on your face, Marcus blinked a few times “I feel like we would've gone out together, at least once…” he said with a shrug.

“No, not once.” you remarked again as the elevator door opened on the basement parking lot and you walked out.

“Well, that’s on me, then, I’m the asshole friend.” he let out as he nodded his chin in direction to his car, you chuckled.

“Not an asshole, a busy friend.” you tried to reassure him as he remotely unlocked the car and the both of you hopped inside at the same time.

“I shouldn’t be busy for you, anyway,” he muttered, pushing the ignition button to turn on the engine. “I mean, you’re the one that helps me the most around here, I should be more grateful.”

“Nah,” you whispered as you buckled your seatbelt “I’m just the coworker that doesn’t like to see others struggling.” you teased with a smile as he backed up the car, he looked at you for a split second and sighed, calling your name.

“You know you’re not just my coworker.” he muttered, getting out of the parking lot and incorporating into the traffic. Your smile grew.

“No?” you turned to see him, knowing exactly what he was going to say if you dropped the question that was dangling on your lips, he shook his head. “then what am I?” you asked with a low voice that you hadn’t use in a long time because you didn’t find the time or the place to use it. But, as you were sitting inside the car of the man you were growing deep feelings for, with the tiniest opening to his heart and his mind, you decided to bring it out again.

Marcus almost slammed the brakes of the car. He felt his breath hitch in his throat and as he stopped the car on a red light; he turned to you.

“What?” he whispered. You raised an eyebrow and shrugged slightly.

“What am I?” you repeated the question. Marcus knew the look you were giving him; god he was sure he wouldn’t get that look from anyone anymore, and he had sworn to himself that he wouldn’t look for that look in any woman he met. But there it was; your gaze was deep on him, your lips were loose and open just slightly towards him, your eyes were steady on his and he felt the despicable, gut wrenching feeling of the most deep, disgusting, ingrained insecurity inside his mind and inside his chest that made him think of nothing but his trained instinct of fight or fly.

“My friend.” he whispered out just as the light changed to green. You smiled to yourself and looked out through the window, letting out a sigh.

“Good,” you let out, “besties.” you teased. Marcus let out a nervous chuckle and nodded. He didn’t say another word until he stirred the car to the restaurant’s parking lot.

Marcus heard two consecutive knocks on his door and lifted his head from the massive email he was reading.

“Come in.” he let out on a sigh as he stretched on his chair, and rubbed his eyes; the light of the computer wasn’t helping his sight.

“Brought you coffee.” he heard you, he opened his eyes and saw you closing the door behind you with your hip and two carton cups that were steaming.

“My lifesaver.” he smiled at you and shifted on the chair, you sat in front of him and handed him his cup.

“Cream and no sugar,” you let out “so you don’t get sleepy.” he smiled.

“What’s the occasion?” he asked, you rolled your eyes.

“The occasion is ten thirty at night and you’re still here.” you said, Marcus sipped his coffee and raised his eyebrows.

“You’re here as well.” he shrugged.

“I just finished,” you let out “kinda was waiting for you.” Marcus frowned, you leaned down and rested your back on the chair.

“Why?” he let out, tensing his shoulders.

“Wanted to talk to you.” you muttered, gazing at him. Marcus wanted to shrink on the chair and flee from the room, but he didn’t, he stayed at his full height of 5’11” and tried to hold your gaze.

“Okay? something happened?” he asked with a low voice, you shook your head twice and saw him partially relax.

“Marcus, how long have we known each other?” you asked him, he frowned a bit but looked at the surface of his desk.

“Almost a year, why?” he replied and you hummed in appreciation at it.

“You know why, don’t you?” you said, biting your lip and smiling at him.

“I have a suspicion.” he muttered.

“Good, so should I just say it?” you asked, Marcus shook his head immediately.

“Please, don’t,” he whispered, you were expecting his reaction so you just nodded “I’m so sorry.”

“I understand,” you smiled again at him and Marcus felt his chest contract inside his torso “I was just… making sure.”

“Honey…” he let out, you shook your head.

“Really, I get it.” you winked at him, taking your coffee and standing up.

“Wait,” he stood up as well, “am I gonna lose you?” he asked, trying to reach to you, you raised your hand and he took it.

“Of course not, silly,” you gripped his hand “I’m gonna be around, just let me know if you need me.” you said, Marcus nodded and you slipped your hand off his.

Marcus saw you leave his office and let out a deep sigh once you had closed the door. He threw himself on his chair and dropped his head back to look at the ceiling. God, what was wrong with him?

He tried to reason with himself as he started to breathe normally; you were amazing. He was sure of it because he saw you almost every day. You were beautiful and attractive and funny. You were smart and so damn capable it made him feel beneath you even when you were at the same rank; you meant a lot to him and you, for some reason that didn’t fit inside his head, never hesitated to tell him how much he meant to you, too.

And it was so damn obvious how you felt about him because you didn’t even bother to hide it; he admired the way you just showed it without advertising it and how you just didn’t let it affect your job or your life.

Jesus Christ, you were in love with him and he was there, sitting in his office after you just told him you understood him; you’d stayed close to him despite him being trapped in his own insecurities, despite the barrier he had put between you and him, despite looking at him clutching at the past and wrapping himself around his tragedies like an orphan child would do to a warm blanket.

You were there for him, loving him and caring for him as best as you could, even when you knew he was processing and working to be out in the open again; even when you knew it took him time to comprehend that he shouldn’t feel embarrassed or sad anymore.

Holy shit; you were there all that time and he was just choosing to be blind to what you were doing; even choosing to shove away all the deep, warm, involving love he felt for you.

Marcus stood up from his chair once again and he rushed to walk around his desk and out of the office, walking the few feet there was between his office and yours, he knocked a few times and opened the door; about to burst out his words, then he noticed the office was empty. He checked his watch. It was ten minutes past eleven and he cursed himself for thinking you meant you were going to be around literally.

He rushed again to his office for his things and his car key, desperately trying to order words inside his brain as he all but banged his foot on the elevator floor and trying at the same time to calm the fuck down as he walked to his car.

Marcus was sure it was a good idea with poor execution; he was a romantic at heart he should go pick up something that would tell you he just took his head out of his own ass and realized he was also in love with you; but the feeling of just tell you everything was stronger and was driving him crazy. He was driving like a madman through the highway that led to your apartment, and when he pulled over and looked at the building, he nodded to himself.

“Just say it, Marcus.” he muttered to himself, opening the car door and walking out.

The easiest part was to walk to the front door, buzz himself in and walk up the stairs to the fourth floor; the easiest part was stepping through the hall and towards your door and knocking on it three times.

You opened the door and the easiest part was over; you were in your pajamas; a silk, shimmering top and shorts too short for Marcus’s own good.

“Marcus, what’s going on?” you asked. He cursed himself inside his head. He had forgotten each and every word of the three point argument he had built inside his head on the way to your home; he saw his thoughts pour over his head and melt at your feet and he did nothing else but stand there, in your threshold; with his mouth dry and his eyes on your body. “Marcus?”

You frowned and stepped to the side, grabbing his forearm to pull him inside. Marcus had been in your apartment before, but he knew then it was different.

“You okay? I’m getting worried” you muttered. Closing the door, Marcus shook his head and tried to steady his heartbeat, failing.

“You told me to let you know if I needed you, right?” he asked, barely audibly. You nodded. Marcus licked his lower lip and sighed, “I kinda need you now.”

“Yeah, absolutely, what happened?” you told him, stepping closer to him, raising your hand to his arm.

Marcus felt a bolt of confidence because of your touch. He breathed in deeply and smiled at you, making you frown again.

He put his hand hesitantly on your waist and he felt you stiffen. His eyes traveled from your eyes to your lips and back, and he stepped even closer to you with a smile on his face.

“You’re here.” he whispered, leaning towards you to grab your lips in his with a kiss you didn’t expect, but didn’t dare to deny.

#danni dearest #Marcus Pike #Marcus Pike x reader #Marcus Pike x you #pedro pascal x reader #commissioned fic #soft FBI art nerd husband

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katytheinspiredworkaholic · 3 years

Note

write about the bau at waffle house 🧇

YESSSS! WISH GRANTED <3

(Now that I’ve written it idek you guys xD this got long and weird and mostly talks about how everyone orders the strangest shit, bless this night shift waitress. Hope you love it babe. Mwah!)

Time zones are a finicky thing.

Sometimes, when a case is over, and the team loads up onto the jet ready to fly back home, they are able to leave at a later but reasonable time. Evening hours, literally flying off into the sunset. But if they are coming back from the West coast? Four hours of air travel and three hours gained on top of that leave them landing sometimes at 2:00 or 3:00 in the morning in Quantico, Virginia.

Sometimes, they’ve all slept on the plane, are wired and not ready to go home, and find themselves starving once they step out onto the tarmac. But it’s the middle of the night, they are far from any of their usual dive spots, and the closest thing open 24/7 -- is the Waffle House a half a mile off the air strip.

“Order up!”

They become regulars, the same middle-aged waitress (appropriately named Ruth) runs the night shift nearly seven days a week, and knows their orders by heart. Scribbling them down for the line cook as soon as the team comes stumbling through the doors, taking up two booths like a group of over-sized teenagers. Road weary from the case, restless from the flight, and her favorite customers by far.

“Triple stack of Pecan waffles for the boss,” she recites, dropping the plate in front of Hotch as he snatches up an entire bottle of syrup before anyone else can. His tie flipped over his shoulder so it’s out of the way. This is his only carb-related indulgence that he ever allows himself -- but they’ve been coming here so often, now, it’s starting to become a bad habit.

“Waffles with chocolate and as much whipped cream as I can manage.” She winks at Reid as he takes the plate from her eagerly, the contents more whipped cream than waffles. He doesn’t bother trying to take the syrup from Hotch, Reid knows better, and Hotch usually pours a little on his plate for him anyway when he looks up enough to notice. They always sit side by side for this very reason.

“Cheeseburger with a fried egg and bacon, you know one of these days it’s going to catch up to you,” Ruth teases, placing Rossi’s plate in front of him.

“And I will die a happy man, with a full stomach,” Rossi informs her. “Why don’t you ever get on them for the sugar intake? That much whipped cream can’t be good for anyone.”

“She likes us better,” Reid points out, taking a bite that is literally all whipped cream just to prove his point.

“Two orders of bacon for the lady in the leather boots,” Ruth chuckles, pointedly waving Prentiss to get her crossed heels out of the walkway. Morgan and JJ have the single seats booth, and she refuses to be excluded so she always pulls up a chair. “I’m sure your boss will share the syrup.”

“You’ll have to pry it from his cold, dead hands,” Rossi chuckles, making a few of the others laugh too.

“That can be arranged,” Prentiss threatens lightly, but Hotch is already giving them half-hearted glares.

“Just give it right back.”

“Cheesesteak melt bowl, extra extra steak,” Ruth continues on over their banter, handing a piping hot bowl to Morgan. “And hot sauce, the good stuff.”

“You are an angel, thank you,” Morgan gushes, taking the bottle from her and creating a monstrosity only he can consume.

“And a large order of covered hashbrowns. Ya still need that bottle of ketchup, or did the pregnancy cravings finally go away? How’s that little boy of yours?” Ruth finishes in a rush, resting her hip on the booth and immediately taking the offered phone with images of Henry on them.

“Finally sleeping through the night, thank God,” JJ tells her, drowning her cheese smothered hashbrowns in ketchup, much to Morgan and Emily’s horror.

“Jage, I love you, but that’s disgusting,” Prentiss says gravely.

“You’re literally eating a plate of bacon with syrup, and you’re judging me.”

“I would be if there was any left,” Prentiss complains, holding up the bottle. “I mean -- Jesus Christ, Hotch, did you drink it?”

“Y’all, this is a Waffle House, you aren’t going to run us out of maple syrup,” Ruth teases, taking the bottle to refill, and narrowly dodging the flurry of bright colors and heels that comes bursting through the door. “I got your tea and raisin toast coming, honey.”

“Thank you!” Garcia calls as she rushes over. “I’m here, I’m here!” She scoots into the single seat booth with Morgan, under his arm and stealing a kiss only to blanch at the hot sauce there. “Gah! Too spicy, too spicy, love! How can you even taste that?” she exclaims. Pawing at her tongue and taking the offered spoonful of whipped cream Reid procures from the other booth to soothe her taste buds.

“Honestly, y’all don’t even have the strangest orders in here,” Ruth laughs, serving up Garcia’s tea and toast, passing Hotch is syrup and refilling everyone’s coffee and barely getting a word in edgewise over the continued raised voices. “You don’t have to rag on each other so hard.”

“It’s what family does,” Rossi says with a smirk of a smile, his words nearly drowned out by the group still jabbing and joking loudly. Filling the small restaurant with shrieks of laughter and voices bouncing off the wall to wall windows.

“Well, you know I love me my FBI family breakfasts,” Ruth says with a smile, observing the grown, tough as nails agents letting go of everything they face day-to-day outside that diner. Allowing themselves to act a little crazy, unrefined, relaxed in a way that can only be found at 2:00am and no where else. Hotch and Reid knocking shoulders and elbows like no one will notice, JJ and Emily with their feet tangled under the table, Morgan and Garcia wrapped up in each other like they always want to be, while Rossi and Ruth sharing knowing looks when the team slips more than usual.

But it’s okay. That’s what they’re here for.

“Keep ‘em coming, Ruth,” Rossi says with a chuckle, offering his coffee mug to her as another roar of laughter echoes around them. “I think we’ll be here a while.”

#asks #cee my love I hope this is what you had in mind <3 #don't mind my subtle attempts at inserting my favorite ships #little bit of HotchReid and Jemily and Morcia if you squint #Morcia actually gets a smooch tho #honestly idek you guys but it was fun #closest to crack I'm going to ever get #katyswriting

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nanamikeento · 3 years

Text

champagne problems

(gif by me)

pairing: Marcus Moreno x female!reader

summary: You run into Marcus after years of rejecting his marriage proposal.

a/n: requested by anonymous. i diverted a bit from the song, though!! hope you like it!

warnings: tw mental illness, angst, mentions of a grave/cemetery

word count: 2.0k

masterlist

...

The wind is cold as it blows on your face, cutting your cheeks and making your nose run. You sniffle, pulling the zipper jacket up in a failed attempt to warm yourself, but the weather hasn’t been kind on you today. The sound of the leaves ruffling on each other comforts you in a way, even in a place like this. Glancing at your father’s grave, you take a deep breath and kneel to place the flowers on the grass. A few feet away from you, some ladies are visiting another grave when they start whispering conspiratorially, catching your attention. You look at them and then look at the direction they’re pointing at, standing up.

Your heart stops when you see Marcus Moreno, visiting a grave not far from your father’s. Suddenly, you understand why those old ladies were gossiping.

When you decided to visit your home city, you knew it was bound to happen. The whispers, the gossip, just like back then. But you came prepared, ready for it. You’re not the same from years ago, you’re better now and you’ll not let some rumors ruin all the progress you’ve made so far. So you take a deep breath and walk right towards him. But your courage gets smaller each step you take with the fear of his rejection. By the time you approach him, he’s already turning around to see who’s near him.

“M-Marcus,” you stutter, offering him a small smile.

Marcus looks at you and raises his eyebrows in surprise as he whispers your name. A moment of silence follows as you both stare at each other. He hasn’t seen you since…

“Long time no see,” you finally say, trying to fill the silence with small talk, “you look good.”

“Y-yeah, you too,” he rasps out, clearing his throat and shoving his hands in his pocket, “you look great, actually.”

You laugh softly, “Thanks?”

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean– It’s just– Back then–”

“It’s okay, Marcus.” You interrupt, “I feel great, actually.”

“Oh?” He tilts his head, eyes flickering with something familiar.

“Yeah.” You sigh, “I… I got help.”

Marcus smiles, nodding at you, “Yeah, I know.” When you frown, a little confused, he explains, “Your mom told my mom and…”

“Oh.” You fight the urge to roll your eyes. You love your mom, but her talking about you with literally everyone in the town just made the rumors about your mental health worse. That’s why you left after you got released from the mental institution you had checked in, you couldn’t take the gossip anymore.

You couldn’t take the dirty looks and stares, not after what you’ve done to Marcus. As usual, you were labeled as the fucked up one that broke the town’s hero’s heart by rejecting his marriage proposal. Everyone in town kept saying you would’ve been a lovely bride if you weren’t “so sick in the head”. Their words. You hated the stigma around mental illness and everyone here seems to get it wrong in this town.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

“Eh, don’t worry about it.” You wave a hand at him, smiling, “I don’t really care. I just wish people were more understanding.”

He looks into your eyes and gives you a half-smile, “Me too.”

Your cheeks warm under his gaze, making you look away to the ground where his wife’s grave is.

“I’ve heard about…” You look back at him, unable to continue the sentence, “My mom has loose lips, as you know.” You watch as Marcus looks down, nodding, “I’m so sorry, Marcus.”

Marcus looks back at you with a thankful smile.

“Thank you. I mean it’s been years, but–”

“Still. Grief doesn’t care how many years it’s been. And I know how that feels.”

“Right, you, um…” he says your name, “I’m sorry too. About your father.”

“Thanks.” You nod at him, “Marcus, I–”

“Dad! What’s taking you so long?!”

A high pitched voice interrupts you before you can continue. Behind him, a pre-teen girl walks towards the both of you. A girl with the same eyes as him.

Right. Marcus is a dad now. You knew that, how could have you not heard about Missy Moreno?

“Sorry, honey,” Marcus says, turning to face her and putting his arm around her shoulders. She looks at you with confused eyes, “This is a friend of mine.” Marcus, then, says your name and you smile nodding at her.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you offer your hand and she takes it, shaking your hand, a tight smile on her lips. You don’t blame her, being a girl her age, meeting her dad’s friends doesn’t sound so exciting.

“Why are we standing in the cold?” She says and you laugh softly.

“Sorry, this is probably my fault.” You grimace, glancing at Marcus, “I won't hold you any longer, sorry.” Then you smile at him and nod once, “It was good to see you, Marcus.”

When you turn around, you don't see the look Missy gives her dad. The Morenos exchange a silent conversation, the young girl raising her brows and looking at him with incredulous eyes while Marcus just frowns and shakes his head, trying to convince her to not do what she's about to do. She sighs, annoyed, and crosses her arms raising her brows again.

But Marcus clears his throat and calls your name, making you turn back around to face them.

“We, um–” He clears his throat again. “We're going to, uh–”

“We're going to get hot chocolate,” Missy interrupts him, “You can join us if you want.”

You turn your gaze back to Marcus whose cheeks are starting to redden. A small smile curves the corners of your mouth as you nod, “I'd love to.”

…

The small coffee shop is cozy and it gives you the nostalgia of your college days, when you’d get back home during the holidays and huddle up here, in the same shop, on cold days. You order a cappuccino, while Missy and her dad order a hot cocoa.

“So, how did you two meet?” She asks as soon as the three of you sit at a table.

You laugh at Marcus’s reaction, feeling your own cheeks warming up with her upfrontness.

“Well, we met in college.” You start, crossing one leg over the other and cradling your cup of coffee with your hands on the table.

“You don’t have to…” He says softly.

Your eyes meet his, a soft smile on your face.

“It’s okay.” You assure him.

“Yeah, dad, let her tell the story,” Missy complains causing you to laugh.

“Okay, it was my first year in college and my roommate had dragged me to this party,” you tell her, completely ignoring him as he rolls his eyes and groans, “I’m not much of a party person but I ended up going anyway.” You chuckle at the memory of trying to fit in with a bunch of people you didn’t know, “I wasn’t having a good time, to be honest, you know? But then, your dad made me spill my drink all over my clothes…”

“It was an accident!” Marcus chimes in, trying to explain himself.

You narrow your eyes at him, “Of course it was.” Your tone is sarcastic, making Missy laugh, “Either way, we talked all night and instantly became friends. He even walked me back to my dorm that night, like the gentleman he’s always been.”

“Well, you always made it easy,” he says, his voice hoarse and low.

The girl smiles, glancing at her dad that just looks at you. He remembers it like it happened today: you sitting on the corner of the couch, with a red plastic cup in your hands, looking like a fish out of water. The incident with the drink was really unintentional, but, man, he was glad it happened. Now, you look as beautiful as that night, even years later. A soft smile curves his lips as he takes in your face. With a turn of your head, you catch him staring and smile too. His brown eyes are warming just like you remember and, for a second, they make your stomach flips with soft butterflies.

Missy, who’s watching the interaction, clears her throat and says your name, getting the attention of both of you.

“So, are you single?” She asks. You raise your eyebrows, widening your eyes as you laugh awkwardly.

“Missy…” Marcus starts to scold her, but she shrugs, frowning at her dad.

“Doesn’t hurt to ask.”

At that, you burst out laughing, wiping a tear from the corner of your eyes.

“Uh…” You sigh, after calming down, “Yes, Missy, I am single.”

Missy gasps, “My dad’s single too!”

Marcus groans, burying his face in his hands as you feel your own cheeks warming up.

“Tha– That’s good to know.” You stutter, hiding your face behind the paper cup as you take a sip from your coffee.

“Here, go get yourself a muffin.” You see Marcus give her a twenty-dollar bill, cheeks, ears, and neck still red from embarrassment. She soon forgets what the conversation was about and happily hops off her seat to buy a muffin, “I’m sorry about her, she’s been trying to set me up recently.”

You laugh, shaking your head, finally feeling your face cool down a bit, “It’s okay, Marcus. She’s really funny.”

He laughs softly, glancing at his daughter from the table, “She got that from her mom.”

You watch his smile fade away as your heart clenches. Risking a look at her, you see that she’s happily chatting with the cashier lady; your eyes move back to Marcus and you feel a little sorry for him. It’s clear that he didn’t get over the passing of his wife and you don’t know why it makes you a little jealous.

“Marcus, I never…” You hesitate when he looks back at you, eyes full of sorrow, “I never apologized for what happened.”

“There’s no need–”

“There is.” You interrupt him, “You gave me everything… and all I gave you was goodbye. And then I disappeared and it wasn’t fair to you. I know how this town is and how people talk. What did they call it? Champagne problems?”

Marcus scoffs, shaking his head, “Ridiculous name.”

You smile, grateful, “I’m sorry, Marcus. For everything.”

He sighs, gently placing his hand on top of yours. The touch of his skin is electric, but you decide to ignore it for now.

“You really don’t have to apologize,” he tells you, “That was so long ago, and I don’t give a shit about what people say.”

Smiling, you squeeze his hand as you nod, holding back tears.

“And I’m glad you got help,” he continues, “no offense, but you really needed it.”

You snort, “None taken, you’re completely right.”

By the time you three leave the coffee shop, the sun is setting and the air is colder than before. Marcus walks to your car after you say goodbye to Missy, who decides to wait in their car.

“How long are you staying?” He asks as you fumble with your keys.

“Actually, I’m leaving tomorrow,” you tell him, your heart heavy. You wish you had run into him earlier.

“Oh.” You can hear the disappointment in his voice. A pause hangs in the air until you speak.

“Tell you what, why don’t you give me your number? When I come by to visit, we can hang out. The three of us.”

Marcus smiles and pats his suit for a card and a pen, “This is my work number, but…” You watch as he scribbles something on the back of the card, leaning on the door of your car and handing it to you, “This is my cell phone number.”

“Good.” You take a deep breath, “It was nice to see you.”

“Yeah… It was.” His voice is soft, just like his eyes.

Before the awkward silence could stretch, you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him to a tight hug. It’s comforting, warm, just like you remember. But you let go too soon, before you can get lost in the scent of him, swallowing hard and forcing a smile.

“Take care,” he tells you as you open the door and enters the car.

“You too, Marcus,” you answer and watch him go. As soon as you close the door, tears are already rolling down your cheeks. “You too.”

...

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princecharmingmendes · 3 years

Text

Heart by Heart | Chapter IV | Raul Mendes

*secret agent AU*

Y/N and Raul have been friends ever since they could remember. And falling in love with your best friend can be pretty tricky and messy 99% of the times, add that to the fact they're constantly risking their lives side by side on the field since they're both secret agents, and the best team that's ever existed. Perfect recipe for disaster.

Hi, this is the fourth chapter, you can find the first one here. This one's a bit shorter but I still hope you like it anyway. Please read the warnings on this one, if you don't feel comfortable with the contents listed on the "warnings" section, please read something else, there are a lot of other works on my masterlist and on the "fic rec" hashtag on my blog. Please give me some feedback and I hope you guys like. Happy Reading!

previous chapter | masterpost | next chapter

*Word Count: 2.9K+.

*Warnings: cursing, jealousy, mentions of weapons (barely any), slight angst (if you squint).

Please don’t read it if any of this subjects make you uncomfortable, feel free to check my masterlist for other writings.

*Posted: July 22nd, 2021.

-*-

Raul was fucked.

He learned that ages ago, but every passing day, it just seemed to get more and more fucked.

Y/N was the most beautiful girl he’s ever laid eyes on, he knew that the day he met her all those years ago, while she was still a kid like him. And as the time went on, she proved him wrong every single day, every time he looked at her, in his eyes, Y/N surpassed her own beauty and taking her own title as the pretties one. Raul knew he was a goner the first time he made her laugh, truly laugh, throwing her head back as she almost lost her breath, he knew he would have to do it all over again for the rest of his life just to hear the most beautiful melody ever created.

And maybe he was a fool, and obvious one for not even holding back whenever she was hurt or needed him. He would give Y/N anything in the world and he could be pretty reckless about it. Sure, Raul was capable of keeping it to himself all these years, even from his spy family and her, but Peter was slowly catching onto it and he knew it. There was a reason why Peter wasn’t a field agent and his not so subtle approaches only proved that right. But he honestly didn’t care, as long as he got to have her as his best friend and best girl, he didn’t give a fuck about what the rest of the world thought. He only cared about Y/N.

So watching her progress on the ring (hell, having his ass kicked by her was probably the best thing that’s ever happened to him), watching Y/N taking part of such an important role as to plan the mission that would take down one of the biggest criminals on the world left him so proud. He couldn’t even describe it. Watching her sleep peacefully among his bedding, the glimmer of pure and utter happiness whenever she watched one of the marvel movies or ate her favorite cake made butterflies go wild in his stomach.

And as Aaliyah would say, he was probably a simp for her. As sappy as that sounded, it was probably true.

“Still with me, champ?” Y/N’s voice ringed on his coms.

Raul had to hold back a smile as Jack smirked at him on their watching point across the street “Always, doll, see anything?”

“Not really” she muttered annoyedly “think the package is late”

“Oh, sorry the bad guy didn’t show up on the perfect time according to your planner”

“Fuck you, darling, before I forget”

Raul huffed a chuckle as he changed channels on the surveillance system she hacked the night prior.

He was with Jack sitting on his apartment watching Y/N from the perfect window. The initial plan was pretty simple, Y/N would be dressed in casual common clothes, going through her computer on Genoff’s favorite coffee shop, to possibly catch him after coming back, so he could be used to some of their faces on his absence justifying new people around. Her undercover role was as a graphic designer that pretty much had a home office, which would justify her always being around that area. Tommy was the local barista trainee, summer job to pay for his scholarship, and this way he could hear some stuff and also be ready to jump and protect whoever was undercover there that day.

Celine was working on the front desk on Geonoff’s cover up business building, she was replacing the other girl that just left due to maternity leave, so it wouldn’t look suspicious at all. James got the work as an executive driver on a company that often was hired to transport Geonoff himself and his people, and Raul would also be on home office as a free lancer photographer, he’d be in an untitled relationship with Y/N which would be a good cover for them always being out and about together.

They would all be living in the same neighborhood, Peter and Celine would be living in the same apartment complex, which was just next doors to the one Jack, Y/N and Raul were placed. This way it would still be safe and pretty low profile enough to not draw curious eyes. And since the mission didn’t exactly have a precise deadline, they didn’t have a precise date to actually leave, so their flat was poorly furnished and decorated, filled with the ultimate basic things they could need in a month period. And of course, heavily armed in every corner and drawer anyone could think about.

“He just left his car two blocks away, think he might be just a bit behind your schedule, Y/N” Jack called from his place behind the screens she had set up the night before “Tommy, grab the cash register as soon as you can”

“Yes sir” Tom mumbled under his breath.

Raul inched a bit closer to the window on a spot no one could see him from bellow, watching as Geonoff himself entered the shop with two other man right behind him. Probably security team. He had to hold back his breath once he noticed the way the man had his eyes fixated right on Y/N’s table, before quietly muttering something to the other with him.

“Hm, excuse me miss?” a deep slightly hoarse voice caught her attention from the fake project displayed on her computer screen, Y/N looked up to find Geonoff right next to her booth.

“Oh hi”

“Why is he talking to her? He wasn’t supposed to just approach her!” Raul practically growled to Jack as the other just shrugged in response “fuck”

“Dude, calm down, Tom is literally just across the bar and she’s a fucking spy, chill, she knows how to handle this” Jack said shoving Raul’s shoulder playfully, to which he just rolled his eyes huffing in annoyance.

“I know, I know that”

Jack arched his eyebrow at him, a knowing smirk playing on his lips “Is this your way of admitting you love her?”

“Shut up and pay attention to their conversation, you idiot” Raul said pushing his friend off of his sit.

“I'm sorry, I just had to ask, I haven’t such a pretty girl like you around in a while, are you new in town, darling?” Geonoff asked leaning his hip against the sit across from Y/N.

“Oh no, not new in town” she responded with a giggle, trying to ease the nerves and slight nausea from talking to him and his half attempt of flirting “I moved to this neighborhood last month though, used to leave on the other side of the town”

“Oh, was it for work? How are you liking this place so far?”

“It’s nice, I thought it was going to be quieter but it doesn’t really bother me” she said with a soft smile on her features “I moved here because I work from home, so I needed to get out of my last place cause my roommate was not exactly quiet, and my boyfriend said there was an available apartment on his floor, so it just seemed like a great opportunity”

Raul’s heart raced a bit more on his chest when she referred to him as ‘boyfriend’, which was completely stupid. Y/N was his best friend and this was only for a cover. But sometimes his feelings got the best of him.

“Boyfriend? Is he here?”

“Oh no, I think he’s at work now, he’s a photographer”

“It makes sense, he has the prettiest muse at home” he added with a wink, which made Y/N’s stomach twirl in her tummy, this man is absolutely gross and she just wants to find a way out of this conversation “is he joining you today or should I keep you company?”

“Tell him I’m on my way, sweetheart, don’t want this man any closer to you” Raul said through coms, Jack already grabbing his backpack with the material they had separated to be Raul’s cover as he threw a denim jacket and a pair of glasses.

Y/N gave Geonoff a gentle smile as she shrugged before adding “he told me he’d be coming here, something about the cupcakes being the best he’s ever had”

“Oh shut up, this is the worst excuse to get me to buy you cupcake ever” Raul muttered through coms as he jogged across the street and Y/N had to cough to hid a little giggle that threatened to escape at her best friend’s comment.

“Yeah, they’re really good, I think you’d like the chocolate one”

“Okay, thank you for the tip” she said, quickly noticing the mop of curls clumsy coming into the shop, a big grin blossoming on her lips as she waved at the heaving figure of her best friend “oh, there he is!”

Raul’s eyes found hers and he could only smile, forgetting only momentarily that one of the most wanted man in the country was just beside her, he shook his head to gain a bit more focus as he shortened the distance between them with every step “hi baby”

Y/N got up from her sit and was quick to throw her arms around his neck, as he did the same with her waist, planting a kiss to the crown of her head “Hi, honey this is… Oh my, just realized I never caught your name, I’m sorry, that was so rude”

“Geonoff, darling” he said with a smug smile on his lips, probably waiting some sort of reaction and proud of it.

And to Raul’s amusement, Y/N didn’t move a single muscle, didn’t give a single reaction, only offering a polite smile “Oh, nice name, I’m Y/N and this is my boyfriend, Raul”

“Beautiful name, suits such a gorgeous girl like you” he said, eyes on Raul waiting for some sort of response.

“Oh yeah, she doesn’t like it but I’ve always found it beautiful” he said softly.

“Well, I’ll leave you guys alone now, nice meeting the two of you” Geonoff said as his guards approached him with a paper bag “and Y/N, let me know if you need anything, I’m always around”

“Thank you” she said before pulling Raul to sit by her side on the booth as Geonoff walked out of the little shop “how was your day, honey?”

“Good, angel, got a couple of photos I think you’d like to see whenever we get home” he said throwing his arms around her shoulders, pulling her closer.

“You two are gross to watch” Jack grumbled through the coms making them both laugh.

Y/N turned her head to face him “you wanna go home to show me or you want to grab a cup of coffee first?”

“I think I want a bit of coffee, but we can order it to go, yeah?”

“Sure, whatever you want” Y/N said before sliding off the booth and pulling him with her, before stuffing her computer on her little backpack, which Raul promptly took from her.

“Come on, baby, can’t wait to lay down a bit” he ushered her to the register, where Tom waited patiently for them “hello there, I’d like an espresso please”

“Sure, anything else?” Tommy asked as he clicked on the little screen.

“Do you want anything, baby?”

“A red velvet cupcake to go, please”

Tom nodded looking a little nervous before speaking up “the other man with the security guards left this note and cupcake for you, ma’am” he then grabbed the little pastry and a fancy business card alongside it.

“Oh, I- are you sure it was for me?” she asked in disbelief as Raul tightened his arm around her.

Tom only nodded in response “positive, do you still want the red velvet one?”

“I- yes, please” Y/N let out before almost chocking on air, gently grabbing the card that contained the business information from his company (that she already had) and a little handwritten phrase next to a phone number, the note read ‘if you’re ever looking for a real man, let me know’.

“Someone’s got a crush on you” Raul teased trying to mask the anger bubbling up on his throat, but he knew she saw right through his facade. After all, Y/N knew him better than anyone else.

“Well, I feel bad for him, because I’m already taken, yeah?” she giggled at herself, lightly poking his chest to try and loosen his nerves a bit.

“Yeah, since I have you, know that I’m never letting you go” Raul pressed a kiss to her head huffing a small chuckle.

“Here it is, sir” Tom cut Raul out before handing him the paper bag, and he placed the money on Tom’s hand.

Raul offered a smile as he lead Y/N back to their place “Thank you, take care, kid”

As they were crossing the street, Y/N dropped the cupcake from Geonoff on the sidewalk, making it look like an accident as she cried out an ‘oh no, I can’t believe I dropped it!’ before tossing it on the bin. On the elevator to their apartment, Raul still seemed tense and too quiet for his normal self, but Y/N decided to drop it, maybe give him some time to deal with today.

Just as they opened the door, Jack was quick to pull them inside, grabbing the card from Y/N’s hand and tossing it into a special bag and running downstairs, probably to deliver it to a team so they could take it to the lab to run some tests. Celine was stretched on the couch, a knowing look in her eyes as she signaled for them to join her. Raul went to the kitchen to grab a glass of water in complete silence as Y/N sank down on the soft cushions with Celine.

“What’s wrong with him?” she muttered quietly, since there were no walls separating the rooms on this flat, only the bedroom and bathroom and Raul was standing pretty close.

Y/N sighed with a shrug “No clue, maybe just didn’t expect the interaction to go like that, I don’t know”

“By the way, you did great, he even got interested in you”

“Ew, no need to remind me, seriously that man is just gross, there’s something about him that’s just creepy, and I’m not even bringing up his criminal record” Y/N added grabbing a bottle water that Raul tossed at her after she nodded at him.

Celine nodded in understanding “Don't blame you, I think I would’ve punched him five seconds into talking”

“You wouldn’t last a single second with him talking” Jack said as he closed the door behind him.

Y/N and Celine laughed as Raul joined them on the couch, sitting on the armrest right behind Y/N as she leaned her weight on him. He threw an arm around her.

“I think we should order a pizza and have some beer, yeah? This was a successful day, Tom’s gonna be here any minute now and Raul didn’t die out of jealousy in 24h, only reasons to celebrate!”

“Don’t start celebrating now, Jack, he might combust at any second now” Celine said with a laugh and Y/N giggled shaking her head, looking up at him only to see his serious expression and a light pink tinting his cheeks.

“So, pizza and beer it is?” Jack asked pulling his phone.

“I think it’s a great idea” Tom said as he climbed through the back window.

“Okay, Jack, order the pizzas and grab us the beer” Y/N decided and Jack stared at her in shock.

“Why me?!”

“So you can do something useful for once instead of gossiping” Raul said playfully and Y/N smiled at that as Jack feigned hurt with a dramatic gasp.

“Well, there’s that and the fact that this genius idea belongs to you, doesn’t it?” Y/N asked

Jack stared at her and nodded “Well yeah but-“

“Then make it happen, darling” Y/N only threw a wink at him and he shook his head, but grabbing his phone to start ordering.

“Hey Tom, can I see the piece you brought back?” Celine asked without moving from her place on the couch.

Y/N took the opportunity to properly face Raul since the others were seemingly busy, so she cupped his face gently bringing his attention down at her “are you okay?”

“Yeah, of course I am, doll” he said turning his face to place a kiss at the palm of her hand before looking back at her.

“Are you sure? You didn’t seem fine five minutes ago”

“I just didn’t think he’d take such an interest on you so soon, I mean, you’re insanely gorgeous so it was obvious he was going to notice you, I guess I was just unconsciously hoping he wouldn’t” Raul sighed leaning his head against her hand and she let it slide on his face until she was able to curl her fingers on his hair “it’s stupid, I’m sorry, I was just being stupid yeah? Let’s focus on something else and relax”

“Are you sure?” she asked tugging on his hair a bit as he closed his eyes, nodding his head softly and she sighed “okay”

-*-

*Please reblog or like this post if you liked it so I’ll know.

*I’m sorry if there are any spelling mistakes.

*Please do not repost this without giving me the credit, this is a completely original piece and I do not give permission to copy this!

*Hope you guys enjoyed it!

*xoxo

-🌙

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stainandscribble · 3 years

Text

Flower, Falling In Love

Pairing: Wonwoo (Seventeen) x Reader

Genre: Wonwoo Cupid AU (sort of); Soulmate AU; Coffee Shop AU (brief); fluff; fantasy

Summary: Wonwoo is a love messenger, he answers to the god of love and he is destined, like all messengers, to never fall in love: or so it would seem. The god of love is unpredictable and does as he pleases. After centuries of helping people fall in love; Wonwoo is the one that needs assistance.

A/N: loosely inspired by Angel’s last mission: Love, based on the world in HONEY (EXO Lay fic) you don’t have to read it though, it is unrelated to this.

Word Count: 5390

Wonwoo was born the same way as all his brothers were, forged into existence the moment the sun painted the clouds various shades of pink and purple. As the dawn broke across the horizon, he had taken his first look at the sky across from Olympus. He was a messenger to the God of Love, Baekhyun.

The God of Love was cheerful, that was what Wonwoo noticed when he was born. The God of Love was smiling down at the newly awake messengers, his eyes shining. They were still pure and innocent then, still impressionable. He remembered that Baekhyun had told him he will live as his helping hand, aiding mortals down below them find love, helping him bestow this precious gift onto humanity.

And then he bestowed upon Wonwoo the greatest act of love a love messenger would ever receive: The God of Love gave him a name.

A name, Wonwoo had learnt was important. His brother recognised him by his name. Strangers would learn his name and cease to be strangers henceforth. A name made him who he was; Wonwoo who was Baekhyun’s love messenger, Wonwoo who was a brother.

He liked it when his brothers called his name. it made him feel important, useful. It made him warm. Wonwoo felt happy when they called his name cheerfully, the same way Baekhyun had the time he gave him his name, with a smile on his lips and a twinkle in his eye. Wonwoo thought that was love or at least the closest he was to ever feel it.

Love messengers had no knots in their white threads for lovers. Although they bestowed the gift of love onto humanity, they were fated to never experience it. Love was for the Gods and mortals. It was something unattainable to them, just beyond their fingertips. Humans and Gods fell in love so that their races could continue to exist. Human lives were short, and so for them to continue they had to love and have children. Despite their short lifespans, Wonwoo had always heard his elder brothers Jeonghan and Seungcheol talk with the Gods of Love and Lightening, about how humans took time to love.

One day, as he rested on Olympus as a young messenger, Wonwoo had been so bold as to ask the God of Lightening how he knew, and he had simply smiled at him, as if Wonwoo was a child, and lay a heavy warm hand over his shoulder, looking up at the tall messenger.

“Humans have short lives, and so they pick their time well and love only those they deem deserving of love.”

“They try anyway.” Jeonghan had supplied, his bright mischievous smile making the God of Thunder shake his head.

“Gods’ love easily because they don’t have to think too much about the passing of time and growing old. That is why they take long to learn. They will fall in love quickly because the mistake is only a short moment on an infinite number of moments. They make the same mistakes and the same bad decisions over and over because their time is limitless, and they can afford to waste it.” Seungcheol had explained to the younger messengers, all staring intently between the God of Lightning, and their older brother.

“Gods are born like humans are. They need love to pass on life too. They are not born in the clouds the same we are. Dawn does not kiss life into them like it does to us.” Joshua said. His voice was soft and light, matching his expression as he gazed over at his younger brothers. His brown eyes held a tenderness that had far surpassed love. Sometimes Wonwoo thought that if Philia, the affectionate love, could choose a shape it would look like Joshua.

“Humans have a good saying; the higher you are the lonelier you are. With power comes sacrifice and loneliness. Gods’ realms are often separated, the way this mountain is far from Junmyeon’s sea.” The God of Lightening Jongdae gestured over to the peak of Mount Olympus, to below, were behind the white tuft of clouds, the azure sea beat against the rocks. “For sacrifice and for balance, we are given love.”

That was the conversation that shaped Wonwoo’s idea of love. It was that lecture, given by the God who loved and married a mortal, that turned into one of the most important conversations of his existence. He was less impressionable afterwards.

-----------

That was over four thousand years ago, and still, despite never feeling Eros, he felt lucky. He was not lonely the way the Gods were, and he did not have a short life the way mortal humans did. For four thousand years, Wonwoo had worked and been content, diligently fulfilling his duties and watching as couples fell in love. Sometimes he had the displeasure, but an honour nonetheless, to watch as the same people he helped fate bring together had said their goodbyes. Millenia ago it had been death that forced them apart. More recently it had been finances and not enough time.

That was why he was on earth today, sitting in an auspicious café, sipping on an iced caramel macchiato. He had taken the last empty table, spread his things out to make sure no one else could sit with him, and watched as his charges smiled at each other in greeting as one offered an empty chair at their table to the other.

Wonwoo smiled to himself, his pink lips spreading into a joyful smile that showed all his teeth and turned his eyes into crescents. He had the satisfaction of watching as they met, his personal coffee show au unfolding in real life.

The coffee shop was packed, the air was warm and stuffy, and undoubtedly a welcome relief from the chill of winter lingering just outside the brick walls. Most of the tables were round, made of brown wood standing on black metal legs, the buzz of chatter and the mechanical humming of the coffee machines completed the ambience, and Wonwoo thought it would be a rather romantic place to meet the person destined for you.

The two humans were both college students, both tired and trying their best to keep up with assignments. They were studying the same subject, so it wasn’t their first meeting, but it was the push in the right direction. Wonwoo had been that push. That was his job, and he had sipped on his coffee and grinned down on his chocolate brownie in satisfaction at completing his last assignment this round. When he was done, he could return home to mythical Cyprus, plating beside Olympus suspended in the clouds. His brothers had already decided to drink nectar when they all came back for a well-deserved break.

That was too easy though. Too simple. A plan too well formulated and too close to execution, and fate had other ideas. Rather, the God of Love had other ideas, and he had made sure Wonwoo would not leave the coffee shop satisfied and in high spirits.

“Hi, is this seat taken?” A melodic voice broke through Wonwoo’s daydreams, bringing him back to the mortal realm. In front of him, a young woman looked down at him, and at the spare chair right she was now resting her hands against. At first glance, Wonwoo wondered if you were a muse to the God of the Sun, but you weren’t. Wonwoo studied your features, and he found none of the essences of immortal beings in them; and he finally heard your heart, previously drowned out by the sounds around him. Your heart was beating, a steady relaxed rhythm proving your mortality. He wondered if you had already found Your soulmate, and if not, who would be the one to help you find them. Would it be one of his brothers, or would it be a messenger he didn’t know? Could it be him?

“No.” Wonwoo told you, gesturing for You to leave your things in the space right in front of him before you went to order your drink.

“Thanks.” You muttered once you came back, sending him a smile in gratitude. Your drink was steaming, the mug holding the hot chocolate was warm against your fingers.

Wonwoo watched you over his cup, glancing at you from time to time to see what you were doing. He watched you warm yourself up, undoubtedly cold from the weather outside. Whilst you had gone to get your drink, snow started falling from the sky, white flakes blew in the wind, settling against the chilled earth like a blanket. Wonwoo thought you were pretty. Your eyes were twinkling, and you liked your lips after a sip of the heavenly hot liquid. You were driving the love messenger insane, his heart began to beat irregularly, startling him when he could hear the blood rush in his ears when you caught him looking. Wonwoo’s cheeks turned rosy, and the room began to feel far too hot for December. Even when you were both inside.

Worried about his rising temperature, and his mind replaying the small smile you sent his way, he decided he needed to make a break for it. There was no need to remain on Earth any longer, and he should be getting back home, in the realm of the God of Love floating beside Olympus.

“I have to go. Bye!” Wonwoo excused himself, walking out as fast as he could, completely forgetting his scarf, still hanging on the back of his chair.

You picked it up, hoping to find him outside the coffee shop, but when the cold air hit your skin, and the snowflakes began to fall against your cheeks, you noticed the tall man was gone.

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

Unbeknownst to you, Wonwoo stood in the back alley behind the packed coffee shop, hiding from mortal eyes as his heart beat against the rungs of his ribs, trying to break free of the pericardium and the bones keeping it away from you.

He had never felt like this before. His heart fluttered watching the happiness he brought mortals, and his feelings soared when he watched his brothers mess around. He had never felt like this towards a human. His hands were sweating, and he thought that even the falling snow could not cool down his scorching skin.

“Why is my heart beating so fast?” He muttered to himself, threading his fingers through his hair, frantically trying to gather his thoughts.

“And my hands are sweating.” Wonwoo spoke, looking around and wiping his hands on his dark jeans. Thankfully, there was no one around to witness his mental breakdown in the alley. Under all the confusion, and a strange excitement that was now filling Wonwoo’s body, there was an important question that needed answering. It was that very question that made his hands tremble, and his heart pick up pace.

“She is human. Why do I react like this because of a human?”

---------

Up above the coffee shop, beyond the vastness of the sky, The God of Water, Junmyeon, and The God of Love, Baekhyun, watched the messenger freak out. They observed the first instance of Eros ever felt by one of Baekhyun’s messengers, watching through the looking glass placed on the marble table in the pavilion. Their imposing silhouettes were still as Junmyeon awaited Baekhyun’s explanation.

The other Gods sat around the table, their dark eyes staring intently at Wonwoo’s image, the messenger was dressed in warm clothes, snow falling around him and cold wind nipping at his cheeks, a stark contrast to the warm breeze and the sun shining down on Olympus.

“What have you done to that poor love messenger?” Junmyeon asked, his deep voice rolled over them like waves, but there was a playful lilt in it, and his eyes were laughing as they watched the poor love messenger fall in love for the first time.

“I have given him the greatest gift, if only he would stop being so frightened.” Baekhyun muttered, tapping his fingernails on the marble table, watching as Wonwoo ran his hands through his hair and muttered to himself like a crazy person.

“How could he not be, his kind had never experienced something like that before.” Jongin reasoned, his tender heart soared at the innocent fear in Wonwoo’s eyes as his feelings wreaked havoc on his mind.

“Can love messengers die of a heart attack?” Kyungsoo laughed, his dark, earth-coloured eyes watched as Wonwoo grabbed his chest theatrically, feeling his irregular heartbeat.

“The fates have agreed?” Junmyeon looked over from the looking glass to his brother, the one he thought must be responsible for this.

“Of course. I chose him myself.” Baekhyun spoke, full of pride as he puffed his chest out and looked over to his elder with a mixture of mischief and hope.

The God of Love had chosen him himself. The moment Baekhyun looked down at the pink clouds, waiting for a new cohort of love messengers to be born in the light of dawn, he knew that it would be one of them. He was getting ready to pick out a messenger, whose lifeline he would eventually mess up, tying lover knots into their fate. No one of these beings, ones he affectionately called his children, had ever felt Eros. No one them in the centuries that they have been around, had ever fallen in love, despite bestowing this gift onto humans. They lived for love, and because of it, and yet they didn’t even know what they were living for. Baekhyun was determined to change that. Starting with Wonwoo, his children would learn what love is.

When the pink hue of dawn passed, and he had called out their names, he had realised he had almost forgotten about one messenger. Wonwoo, still nameless then, watched the God of Love with innocent fascination, eyes filled with Storge, affectionate love, as he watched the God of love smile down at him, oblivious to his intentions, and that was when Baekhyun had decided; it had to be him, who he had almost forgotten.

“Wonwoo.” Baekhyun had called him, and his fate was set.

---------

Wonwoo sat with his brothers around a wooden table, the warm Cyprus winds kissing their cheeks, a pleasant contrast to the harsh winter on Earth. Here, the sun shone down on them, and Wonwoo had swapped out the warm coat for summer clothes and a loose-fitting shirt. From crystal cups his brother sipped on golden nectar, but Wonwoo could not stomach his drink. His cup sat full on the table as he felt his stomach churn and flip. It was an unfamiliar feeling. Love messengers never got sick. The more people they helped find their soulmates, the better they felt, and their work was never-ending. Mortals and Gods kept them busy and kept them in high spirits.

“Jeonghan, I think I’m sick.” Wonwoo muttered when his heart began beating a little faster and he could feel his cheeks heating up a little more when his mind made him see the girl from the café again. He put his head in his hands.

“We don’t get sick.” Jeonghan laughed as he sipped on cool nectar. Beside him, Seungcheol looked over at the younger messenger and furrowed his brows.

“Something is wrong with me.” Wonwoo pressed, trying to avoid the curious gazes of his brothers.

“I saw this girl at the café whilst on duty, and she was mortal, but she was pretty.” He admitted, thinking about how you were definitely the prettiest mortal he ever laid eyes on, and about how he absolutely shouldn’t under any circumstances consider you attractive. Heck, he shouldn’t even know what attraction feels like. There were no lover knots in his thread of life, and there should be no feelings associated with Eros bouncing about his heart.

“When I saw her, my heart started beating in my chest as if it was skipping a beat, and my hands grew sweaty when she accidentally brushed her hand against mine.” He explained, his hands miming the way his heart was beating before he dramatically rubbed his hands together.

“Impossible.” Jeonghan whispered, his goblet abandoned on the table.

“What is impossible?” Mingyu asked, his eyes widened when he saw the shock on the faces of everyone else. He looked expectantly over to Wonwoo, who looked like he was about to faint.

“It can’t be real, can it?” Joshua asked, and before Mingyu could ask again about what was happening Seungkwan beat him to it, answering Joshua’s question instead.

“We don’t do that.” He shook his head, a broken chuckle escaped him as he sipped on his drink, trying to avoid Mingyu’s wondering stare.

“I have never in my six thousand years heard about this happening.” Seungcheol announced, looking over at the younger love messenger as he looked absolutely miserable, his face flushed and his eyes glassy as if he had a mortal fever. When they stopped to listen, they could hear his heart, fast and irregular. The same as a mortal heart in the throes of infatuation.

“Wonwoo, how are you feeling right now?” Seungkwan stood up from his chair to press a hand against Wonwoo’s forehead, checking if his brother was really burning up. To his surprise, he was, and the warmth that emanated from him was a pleasant feeling. Wonwoo was projecting, and for a moment Seungkwan thought his heart might also skip a beat. He retracted his hand and looked down onto his brother.

“Fine.” Wonwoo answered, although his cheeks were still pink, but the thought of you was now gone from his mind, and instead, fear had taken its place.

“Can he be infatuated with a mortal?” Mingyu asked, looking over at Seungcheol for answers. The older ran a hand through his black hair and sighed.

“It’s fate. You can’t fight fate.” His words had a finality to them that made them all sit back into their seats. It was the kind of finality that took over all of them, not just Wonwoo, who watched on with wide eyes, and despite the warmth of Cyprus’ air, the hairs on the back of his neck rose.

“You met her again, didn’t you?” Joshua asked, his voice soft as he watched his brother struggle with the new information.

“After I ran out, I came back the next day, just to make sure.” Wonwoo nodded.

“We bumped hands accidentally.” He added afterwards, but didn’t know if it was important, or rather why it was relevant,

“She invited me out for ice cream.” Wonwoo told them, putting his hands on the table and playing with his cup as a distraction.

“You said no, right.” Joshua prodded, his eyes soft but unsure, and when Wonwoo stayed silent, he turned to Seungcheol, who watched everything helplessly.

“You said yes?” Jeonghan cackled, laughing hysterically at how hopeful and happy his brother seemed at the prospect of meeting the mortal again.

“We are meeting on Monday.”

“Good luck.” Mingyu told him, and the sincerity in his voice gave Wonwoo the courage to smile at him.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. It was fate after all, and you can’t fight fate. They all knew that.

-------

The ice cream shop was surprisingly full for the middle of winter. The walls were lined with wood painted a cream colour and the tables were also cream with pastel-coloured chairs. It was a fun little shop, and Wonwoo waited outside excitedly for your arrival. He had come earlier, just to make sure he was at the right place, and because he had a bad habit of being late, and he figured being late on the very first date of your immortal existence would not bode well. The snow had stopped falling, but the world remained covered under a soft pillow of pearly whiteness. Everything looked softer in the snow, and Wonwoo didn’t mind the cold.

“Hi Wonwoo.” He turned around when he heard you call his name, watching as you waved at him from the edge of the sidewalk.

“Hello Y/N.” He answered, smiling at you, his dark eyes carefully trailing over your face, wondering if you were as cold as he was.

“Let’s go?” You asked, gesturing towards the entrance to the gelateria.

“Sure.” He nodded and followed behind you into the warm ice cream shop. You sat down at a table near the window, your eyes scanning the tall man as he sat down and took off his black jacket and scarf. His cheeks and nose had turned red in the cold, and you wondered if he waited outside for long. He was already waiting when you spotted him as you were crossing the street. Once you were seated, you looked through the menu, deciding to share a sundae between you.

“How about this one?” Wonwoo asked, pointing to a sundae slathered in toffee sauce.

“Sweet nectar?” You asked, and he nodded, a smile appearing on his lips as you watched his eyes light up. You could feel your heart skip a beat when he caught your eyes with his dark coffee ones.

If only you knew the irony of his choice, you would have undoubtedly laughed, a messenger from Olympus who wanted nectar. Wonwoo had found that almost ridiculous.

For the remainder of your date, you sat at your table, walking about your favourite films and books. Turned out Wonwoo was a big fan of romance films, and he had mentioned that he liked Casablanca.

“So you like black and white cinema?” You asked, smiling as you leaned your hand against your open palm.

“You could say that.” He chuckled, eyes drifting from you onto the empty ice cream cup.

“What’s your favourite?” Wonwoo asked in return, feeling his breath hitch in his throat when you caught his eyes. Their colour mesmerized him, and for a moment he thought he was looking into a mirror, seeing the white thread of his life tie in a knot as he watched. The depth of your gaze was immeasurable, and he found himself drowning in the vastness.

“Cinema Paradiso.” You replied without breaking his gaze.

“So you like foreign cinema?” He asked, a teasing lilt in his voice. The smile that broke through sent your own heart into a frenzy, and you felt yourself being pulled closer like a puppet on a string. Closer to him.

“You could say that.” You spoke, and the softness of your voice felt pleasant against Wonwoo’s ears. It was a sweet sound. Sweeter than the melodies played on any harp or lyre by the muses of the God of the Sun.

For the remainder of the evening, you sat in the gelateria, talking about your passions and your hopes.

“Tonight was nice.” You told Wonwoo once you left the building. The white snow had resumed its descent onto the frozen earth and had added layers onto the white blanket covering the world. It acted as a means to silence all sound but the sound of your beating heart and the rich resonance of Wonwoo’s voice.

“It was.”

“Would you like to go out again sometime?” He asked, turning to look you in the eyes when he offered.

“Let’s watch a film.” You agreed, happy when he took a small step towards you. In the crisp winter air, his warmth radiated like a heater, protecting you from the nipping wind.

“They are screening Notting Hill at the Contemporary Arts theatre.” Wonwoo told you his cheeks dusting a deeper shade of red.

“I’ll text you the time. Is that okay?” He asked, looking over unsure if he was being too forward. He had never spent this long with a mortal, much less with a mortal he knew he would inevitably fall in love with. He wondered if this was what all his charges felt when he helped them bump into each other or helped them make the first move. Were they also this warm? Did their hearts beat a new life and their breaths hitched in their throats with the feelings coursing through their veins? If that was the case, Wonwoo thought that infatuation was a very pleasant stage of mortal relationships.

“Of Course.” You told him, and just as you were about to bid your farewells he stopped you. His hand landed in your arm, and before you could react he had pressed a quick kiss to your cheek.

His lips were warm against your cold skin, and the tingling sensation they left behind was enough to make our heart skip a beat.

“Goodnight.” He murmured, letting go of your arm, allowing you to walk home.

----

The messengers had picked a small coffee shop as their hangout in the mortal world. It was warm and served the best hot chocolate they had ever tasted, whipped cream and all. It was also frequented by tender writers and happy couples. Currently, in the throes of winter, it had been decorated with white lights and smelled like cinnamon, most likely because of all the gingerbread and spiced cakes they baked. Jeonghan made Wonwoo and a few other’s meet here before he left for Olympus later in the evening. They sat at a round wooden table sipping on hot coffee and trying to keep themselves awake.

“You are meeting her again?” Jeonghan asked, poking Wonwoo on the side. The elder had recently dyed his hair platinum blonde, and Wonwoo was truly considering also changing something. He just wasn’t quite sure what he wanted to change. He felt like he was a different being to the one he was just a few weeks ago. He knew what the blossoming of love felt like now, and despite all worried of what his brothers might think of his predicament, they had been supportive.

“I have a date in half an hour.” Wonwoo answered, sipping on his hot americano.

“I can’t believe it.” Mingyu muttered under his breath. He still found the idea that the God of Love allowed one of his messengers, the ones doing his dirty work, to experience the very same love they brought to the world. The possibility that Wonwoo could love a mortal and be happy meant that the rest of them wondered whether they would also get to experience Eros within their lifetimes. It was not new knowledge that the God of Love Baekhyun had wanted his footmen to have love, it was just new that the fates let him meddle with their life lines.

“It takes almost half an hour to get to the Contemporary Arts Theatre, you better get on the bus now.” Seungcheol told him, poking the watch in his wrist to remind Wonwoo of the time. He didn’t need to be told twice.

“See you at home!” He waved at them half-heartedly before running out to catch the next bus.

-------

True to Seungcheol’s words he had barely made it on time. The building of the Contemporary Arts Theatre was low, with only two screen rooms and a small gallery for student pieces. There had been only four other people at the screening of Notting Hill, and Wonwoo was thankful. He felt much more at ease with less prying eyes.

In the dark room, with the only light coming from the projector behind you, it felt right. Wonwoo had been timid at first, making sure you were comfortable, being careful not to be too forward. You could never have imagined his relief when he felt your head press against his shoulder halfway through the film. The rest of the film you had stayed like that, with your head on his shoulder, and with his fingers threading through yours on the armrest, and Wonwoo swore he had never been more comfortable, not even in the push beds on Mount Olympus.

-------

“Tonight was lovely.”You told Wonwoo as you were leavening. Your hands were still intertwined, and it didn’t look like Wonwoo had any intention of letting go anytime soon. Not that you were complaining. It was a nice feeling, being held, and you enjoyed the way your relationship was progressing. Nothing seemed rushed, and you were happy with that.

“I’m glad you liked it.” Wonwoo answered, beaming as he looked at you from the corner of his eyes as you walked through the streets.

“I was just wondering,” You thought out loud, and Wonwoo halted in his tracks, turning to face you with serious eyes. The hints of playfulness now gone from the deep brown orbs.

“Wonwoo, what is that white string?” You asked, not sure if you were going crazy or not, but you had been seeing the white thread follow you since you met him, and whenever you asked your friends, they had thought you were either pulling their leg or going insane.

“What white string?” He asked, panic taking over. He had never thought you would ask him that. White string was the fibre of his life line, the fibre that held his fate in chronological order. Mortals couldn’t see immortal strings.

“This one.” You unlaced your fingers, pointing to the pearly white thread that wrapped around your ring finger like a wedding band.

“You can see it?” He asked in disbelief, and although he was panicking inside, you had let out a relieved breath. You nodded wiggling your fingers and watching the pearly sheen of the thread glisten in the streetlight.

“It’s been following me around since I met you.”

“That’s,” Wonwoo coughed, his voice cracking with the shock of your revelation.

“That is fate. My fate, that I share with you.” He answered when he regained the ability to breathe and think coherently.

“What?” You asked, not quite understanding what he was saying.

“We are soulmates.” He explained, watching as your eyes filled with shock. It wasn’t every day that someone told you you were soulmates, much less the man who could also see the crazy invisible threads wrap around your finger.

“How could you possibly know that?” You pressed for answers.

“I know because I’ve been watching those strings for a very long time. I’m the one who helps tie them together.” He explained, holding your hand to pull at the life line that wrapped around your finger. His life line, his fate. His love.

“What?”

“I’m a love messenger. I help people fall in love.” He answered, looking into your eyes, and the weight of his confession settled over you, wrapping around your heart. To prove his point, he held out his hand, and sure enough, you saw a scarlet string wrap around his finger and shoot straight to your heart.

“Like cupid?” You pondered, and he laughed. He laughed at the absurdity of the situation, and at the fact that you had taken all his confessions in stride rather than running away. Maybe you were both mad.

“You could say that.” Wonwoo nodded, and the wind picked up speed, sending snowflakes spinning all around the two of you, shielding you from the prying eyes of the world outside.

“I’m your soulmate?” You asked again, and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you towards his warm frame.

“Scared?” He whispered, his warm breath fanning the shell of your ear.

“No.” You answered, smiling when neither of you pulled away. Slowly, as if to not frighten you, he lowered his head, and before you knew it, his lips were on yours, moving gently against your own. His lips felt hot and searing against the cold winter, and he tasted like cotton candy. When you had finally broken away from the kiss to catch your breath your eyes strayed to the ground, and you saw Wonwoo’s shadow, his tall frame elongated on the pavement, but that was not what drew your attention. Sprouting from the back of his shadow, a pair of wings, like those of an angel, sprouted and fluttered against the wind.

“I’m terrified.” You whispered, and Wonwoo couldn’t help the laugh that broke from his throat, cacophonous and filled with joy as you teased him.

In the night, under the orange glow of streetlamps, he kissed you until you were breathless, and you decided you would love him, not yet, but in the future. Love was a flower, and it had sprouted from amongst the snow, the first signs of green peeking through the crisp whiteness.

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hieludoboi · 3 years

Note

Hi could you please write some fluffy everyday headcanons with Josuke and his s/o?or really anything fluffy with josuke🥺 I loved your last fluffy jotaro imagine💜

A/n- I'm glad you liked it! I kinda just let my brain throw up for a minute if I'm being honest :O Anyway, I love Josuke, he's probably my favorite JoJo (Besides Joseph) but here is a drabble about Josuke!

A/n- Sorry if this is a little ooc, it's my first time really writing for Josuke, I still hope you enjoy though!

Pairing- Josuke/Gn!Reader

Genre/Type: Fluffy drabble

Snowstorms weren't all that bad. That was the conclusion that Josuke had come to. The chilled winds sailed past windows, carrying glittering snow. From the living room window, Josuke could see the same snow, carried along by cool breezes, gently flittering to the ground, landing atop already piled up mounds of snow.

Snowstorms weren't all that bad, not when his mother was stuck at a friend's house, leaving Josuke with the opportunity to turn his living room floor into a dance floor for only two.

With a yawn, Josuke stood up from the couch, stretching his arms above his head before making his way to the old record player stashed away in the corner of the living room. It was an old thing, a relic from the past. A big old horn, a small little table. It was exactly what Josuke thought of when hearing the word 'record player'. How it had gotten to sit in the corner of his living room, Josuke didn't know, but it was there, and so were the old records that the old man had brought him on his last visit.

The little things. It was what Josuke appreciated the most. The way they grinned at the sound of trumpets blaring from the old horn, the little tap tippity tap of their feet whenever a raspy and warm voice seemed to coat the living room in its soothing tones, the little bit of hot chocolate that would coat their upper lip after every sip.

"You wanna swoon them? Play some Ella Fitzgerald, take them out for a dance, a night on the town, woo them,"

Josuke couldn't help but shake his head at the thought of the old man's advice. He had left him a mountain of records on his last visit, ranging from Billie Holiday, Mildred Bailey, and Ella Fitzgerald, to Louis Armstrong, B.B. King, and Duke Ellington. And for as much as he wanted to throw away the old records, he just couldn't bring himself to do it. Not when he had seen their smile, all blinding and jubilant as they flipped through record after record.

"Guess the old man was right," Grabbing a record from the box that Mr. Joestar had given him, Josuke placed it on the turntable, messing around with it until he got it working, the honey sweet voice of Ella Fitzgerald sticking to walls of the living room, filling it with a cozy sound.

With his hands on his hips, Josuke took a few steps back to the entrance of the living room, letting his eyes scan the area. The couch was covered in blankets; the lights dimmed just the slightest. Two mugs of hot chocolate sat on the coffee table, and throughout the room he could smell the soft scent of the candle he had lit, wafting around the room.

"Gotta woo them," Josuke muttered to himself, a satisfied smile lightly gracing his lips. He took just a moment to bask in his own pride, satisfied with the little makeshift date he had planned for them. And not a second too soon, he heard two gentle knocks on his front door. Spurred forward by trumpets and beautifully sung belts, Josuke practically rushed for the door.

"Hey," He grinned as he opened the door, taking their hand in his to place a soft kiss on the top of it before pulling them in.

"Oh- hi," They gasped, feeling the heat rush their face. Following behind Josuke, they looked over his shoulder in time to see the living room. Cozy was the only way they could describe it. "Oh, Josuke, this is so sweet!" They exclaimed, taking in the blankets and the soft jazz billowing across the room in sickly sweet clouds.

"Glad you like it! Now, may I interest you in cuddles, hot chocolate, and perhaps some dancing afterwards?" Lord, Josuke hoped the old man's advice would work. He spent too much time preparing the living room and fiddling with the record player for it to not work.

"You had me at cuddles," They confessed, a playful grin on their lips as they then took the reins into their hands, pulling Josuke towards the pile of blankets on the couch.

"Oh- cool," Unable to keep the blush from spreading like wildfire on his skin, Josuke let himself be pulled into the comfort of a pillowy couch, warm blankets, and tender trumpets.

He guessed the old man had a point after all...

#higashikata josuke #josuke higashikata #josuke imagine #josuke headcanons #josuke x reader #jojo's bizarre adventure #diamond is unbreakable #jjba part four #jjba x reader #jjba headcanons #jjba imagines #jjba x y/n

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hercleverboy · 4 years

Text

four times

spencer reid x reader

genre > angst

wc > 3.1k

four times the reader loved spencer and the one time she didn’t

The first time she knew she loved Spencer Reid, was when he brought her coffee early one morning on a boring paperwork day.

Y/N had only started at the BAU a few months ago, and had pretty much instantly fallen for the intelligent man with eyes like honey. She grew very close with the rest of the team, being the new youngest member, she very quickly became a part of their family. One day, without a new case that demanded their attention, Hotch had assigned them all to paperwork before dismissing them. Spencer had stumbled in through the doors of the bullpen, ten minutes late with flushed cheeks and a small paper bag in one hand, and a coffee cup in the other.

“You’re late.” Hotch stated.

“Yes Sir.”

“Don’t let it happen again.” Hotch tried to remain stern, but he let a small smile spread on his lips when he noticed the little paper bag Spencer held.

“Yes Sir.” Spencer smiled sheepishly as Hotch walked back to his office, and Spencer placed his satchel down on his desk before making his way over to Y/N’s desk, little paper bag and coffee cup in hand. “Morning Y/N!” He spoke, a little too excitedly for 8AM.

“Hi Spencer, What you got there?” She smiled back, nodding towards the items.

“Um well I remembered you saying that you loved the chocolate croissants from Tilly’s Bakery, and that your favourite drink was a vanilla latte, and I- um, I thought I’d stop by and get those for you on the way to work.” He fumbled over his words, like an idiot. His cheeks were red with embarrassment, and he thought he’d overstepped.

“Tilly’s Bakery? Spencer that’s- that’s all the way across town, Thank you so much but you really didn’t have to go so out of your way.” She was shocked he would’ve done something so kind for her. Not only that, but he’d remembered her exact order, something that she’d said in mindless conversation over six months ago?

“It was really no trouble, I had to get something else from that side of town anyway.” It was a lie, he knew it. Yet he shrugged his shoulders and acted like it was no big deal, when really he’d woken up an hour early to get the subway across town just to see that smile on her face.

“Oh, well thank you. So much. You’ve really made my day.” She smiled, and Spencer’s heart nearly burst.

“It’s okay. I try.” He joked, before turning back towards his desk, ignoring the proud smirk that Derek gave him from his own desk.

Y/N had a grin on her face for the rest of the day, Spencer’s gesture really making her feel so much better.

She loved him then.

The second time she knew she loved Spencer Reid was when he comforted her after a tough case.

They were on the way home on the jet, and Y/N sat playing with her fingernails anxiously. The case had been bad, and involved children. They’d managed to save the last child, but couldn’t forget how five others had died before they could track down the unsub.

Spencer had sat down across from her, watching her carefully before he spoke. “It wasn’t your fault, you know that, right?”

She looked up, surpised to hear his voice. “Yeah I know I just, I can’t help thinking if I was quicker at figuring it out then we could’ve-“ Her small voice broke mid-sentence, and in a very uncharacteristic move, Spencer reached out and took her hand in his, his thumb smoothing over the back of her hand comfortingly.

“Listen to me.” He spoke quietly, trying not to alert the rest of the team to her upset. “There was nothing different you could’ve done, okay?”

She nodded and smiled gratefully at him, but her emotions betrayed her, the tears slipping from her eyes.

He pulled his hand away, and she thought he was getting up to go back to his previous seat on the other end of the jet, but instead, and much to her surprise, he sat down next to her, placing his arm around her shoulders and pulling her into him.

Y/N was shocked to say the least. Spencer Reid, the man who swore off touch because he was cautious of germs, was willingly holding Y/N to his chest, and he gave no indication of feeling uncomfortable about it. When she gave in and rested her head on his shoulder, he placed his head on top of hers.

Derek nearly spat out his coffee at the sight, and the rest of the team looked bewildered to be honest. They’d never really seen this affection from Spencer, and on the rare occasion it was shown, it was with people he’d known for many years, not a few months. Y/N felt her eyelids droop and was lulled to sleep by the sound of his heartbeat.

She loved him then.

The third time she knew she loved Spencer Reid was at a party being thrown at Rossi’s place, to celebrate Y/N’s first year at the BAU.

Y/N had been dancing and drinking with the team all night, and had politely excused herself to get some fresh air. She found a balcony connected to one of the spare bedrooms on the second floor that overlooked the city. She leaned on the railing, taking a deep breath as she took in the view, the little lights of the town seeming so far away.

“It’s a pretty great view, huh?”

She let out a little yelp of surprise and turned to face the voice, seeing a sheepish looking Spencer standing there, his hands rasied in a sort of surrender.

“Sorry! It’s just me! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you.” He profusely apologised and Y/N let out a small laugh as she shook her head.

“No it’s okay. I just didn’t expect to see you there is all.” She smiled. “and yeah, it’s beautiful really.”

“So are you.”

Smooth Spencer. Real smooth.

Her mouth opened in slight shock, and she really didn’t know what to say. Seeing her shocked and confused expression, Spencer began to ramble.

“What I’m trying to say is that I like you? Not just like a friend, I like like you, I have since you first joined and actually I’m pretty sure I’m kind of in love with you-“ He mumbled and winced when he realised what he’d just said. When she didn’t respond immediately he’s quick to speak again. “Oh my god, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that, you obviously don’t feel the same and now I’ve made you uncomfortable, I’ll just go.” He turned to leave, looking shamefully down at his feet.

“Spencer, wait.” He turned back to face her nervously.

“I kind of love you too.” She confessed, and Spencer had never felt a relief as sweet as hearing her say those words.

“Oh thank god.” He murmured, coming to stand next to her again. They laughed together, and talk about nothing in particular as she looked out at the city, and he looked at her like she was the world.

She loved him then.

And he loved her too.

The fourth time she knew she loved Spencer Reid came a year into their relationship. She was spending the night at his apartment, watching some reruns of Doctor Who on TV, (a TV that Y/N had insisted he bought for that very purpose).

Somewhere between her head resting on his chest and his arms around her she’d fallen asleep, and Spencer only noticed when something happened on screen that would normally illicit some kind of reaction from her, but instead she was silent.

He glanced down at her and smiled at the sight of her looking so peaceful. He reached over to the remote, turning the TV off. He then gently moved Y/N off of him, careful not to wake her. He stood, and then lifted her into his arms, carrying her bridal style towards his bedroom, her head resting gently on his shoulder.

He gently placed her on the bed, removing her leggings successfully without waking her up, leaving her to sleep only in one of his shirts she’d stolen from him. He didn’t mind, they looked better on her anyway. It was a cold night, so Spencer grabbed a pair of socks from his drawer and slid them onto her feet, before laying next to her and pulling her to his chest, placing the covers over them to keep them warm.

When she woke up the next morning, she noticed she was up before him, which was a rare occurance. She glanced down to her feet, and noticed how he’d put socks on her feet to keep her warm on one of the coldest nights of the year. When he woke up, he didn’t even take credit for it, just bashfully smiling and whispering “anything for you” when she thanked him.

She loved him then.

And he loved her too.

Spencer’s headaches were getting worse, so when he told Y/N he found a doctor who finally seemed to be helping him, she was estatic for him.

Everything seemed perfect.

Then the cold nights that he held her close to his chest turned to cold nights where he’d turn his back to her and giggle quietly as he texted her, thinking Y/N was asleep but she wasn’t. Spencer would lock his phone, and turn back towards Y/N, pulling her into his arms to hold her tightly. It made her feel sick.

Mornings where he’d kiss her forehead and they’d make love became mornings where they had pretty meaningless sex, where he was the only one really getting any pleasure from it. Then he’d retreat to the bathroom and call her, speaking with hushed whispers, thinking Y/N couldn’t hear but she did.

Every word.

It made her feel physically sick, like he was using her, a warm body in the place of this other woman.

What made her feel more sick was that she let him do it.

Y/N didn’t know when it happened. She spent so long in love with Spencer Reid that she didn’t really register when she fell out of it. She spent months in a haze, watching him have an emotional affair with some other woman in front of her. For the first few months she clung onto him and the love she still had for him for dear life, afraid she didn’t know how to live without him.

but with every morning spent alone, every time she strained to listen to his conversations

“Bye, Love You.”

Every time suddenly he’d leave on the evenings where they didn’t have a case, he’d tell her he got called in by Hotch to complete some paperwork, which was a half assed excuse that he hadn’t thought through properly, but Y/N had begun to lack the incentive to care.

She eventually confided in Penelope about her fears, after months of dealing with them by herself, letting them eat away at her like a disease. Penelope had become much like a sister to Y/N in her time at the bureau, and Y/N knew she would be honest with her when she asked if she thought something was going on with Spencer. Penelope wanted to tell her she was being silly, but she’d noticed it too, as had the rest of the team.

JJ had noticed when Spencer sat next to Y/N on the jet home, he wouldn’t comfort her after a bad case like he used to. That he no longer looked at Y/N like she was the only person in the world that mattered. Instead, he would sit with his eyes locked on his phone, smiling at the screen as he typed, before he’d lace Y/N’s fingers with his, as if nothing was wrong.

Derek saw how he no longer bothered to bring her coffee or her favourite pastries. And on the off chance he did bring her one, he’d bring her something she didn’t like. (“Oh, I’m sorry, I guess I forgot you don’t like this one.)

Hotch noticed too, it was his job as Unit Chief to notice when his team members were acting differently, as it was up to him to decide if that difference would impact their ability to work. He’d noticed how Y/N and Spencer never came into work together anymore. Instead, Spencer would stumble in 10 minutes late with a smile on his lips that wasn’t because of Y/N.

Emily watched sadly as Y/N became a shell of a person, no longer bright and bubbly but numb and almost paralysed. She saw how Spencer didn’t seem to notice.

It didn’t take the team long to conclude that Spencer was cheating. Not a physcial affair, but an emotional one was just as bad, if not worse.

Spencer seemed to think he could get away with hiding his emotional affair. As if he wasn’t a part of a team of expert profilers. He did feel guilty. It was true, he loved Y/N. But his ego had been boosted so high with the idea that two women wanted his affection, when he was so used to being rejected, he let it get to his head. He didn’t love this other woman, not like he loved Y/N anyway, but he did love her attention. He craved it.

He began to notice how Derek scowled at him from time to time, for hurting the woman he protected and cared for like a little sister.

He saw how JJ would cut him off with a cold tone, not a nurturing, mothering tone like usual.

How Emily refused to work with him in the field, angered at him for the pain he was putting one of her best friends through.

How Hotch wouldn’t even look at him, but remained professional because that was his job. In her time at the BAU, Y/N had become much like a daughter to him.

With every lie he told (and he couldn’t seem to keep track of them very well), Y/N fell more out of love with Spencer Reid.

Eventually, she reached her breaking point. Y/N was so emotionally exhausted of living this way, so tired of mentally trying to pinpoint where everything had gone to shit, but she couldn’t. She didn’t care anymore.

She knocked, and he seemed surprised to see her when he answered.

“Hey baby. I didn’t know you were coming over.” He smiled, and reached out for a welcoming hug, but she stepped back out of his reach, her hands coming up to gently push him off.

“I just came to get my stuff.” She stated. It wasn’t a question, she wasn’t asking permission. Over the time they’d been together, she’d been keeping some clothes in a drawer that Spencer had cleaned out for her in his chest of drawers. She also kept some of her toiletries in his bathroom, as well as a few other items she’d placed around his tiny apartment.

“What do you mean?” He asked, confused.

“You’ve been having an affair, and we’re done. I’m just collecting my things and I’ll go.” She spoke so nonchalantly, like the subject bored her. She was so numb, no tears fell and no words caught in her throat.

She was so fucking tired of this.

“I don’t-“ He didn’t know why he tried to deny what he knew was true.

“Don’t start, Spencer. I know it’s true, and so does the team. We are profilers, you know.” She pushed past him, walking towards his bedroom. He stood shocked for a moment in his doorway, trying to process what had just happened. Of course she knew, of course the team knew.

He scrambled to follow after her, and his breath hitched in his throat when he saw her collecting all her things and stuffing them in her bag.

“Y/N, please let me explain.” He tried.

“What is there to explain? You fell in love with her, you fell out of love with me. It happens.” The way she spoke in such a bored tone was scaring him. How easily she dismissed the love they had.

“I don’t- I don’t love her. I promise I don’t I was just- god I was getting this attention I didn’t know what to do with and I liked the feeling.” He seemed confused as he spoke, like he couldn’t figure out why he ever got himself into this situation, why he’d ruined something so good for a meaningless fling.

Y/N zipped up her bag and placed it over her shoulder, before moving to walk out the room.

He grabbed her hand, holding it tightly, forcing her to look at him.

“Wait, Y/N please don’t go. I love you. I’m so sorry, I don’t know where this all went wrong, where the attention got to my head but I don’t need her. I need you, I love you, please.” He was sobbing, begging.

She felt nothing. This was what his lying and sneaking around had reduced her to. When she saw the man she would’ve done anything for practically begging her not to go, she should’ve felt something. but she didn’t.

“I don’t love you anymore, Spencer.” Her words were sharp, clear. They wounded him. He sobbed, and pathetically continued to beg as she ripped her hand from his grasp.

She turned swiftly and left the small apartment. The click of the apartment door closing shut behind her left Spencer to be swallowed by the silence, and his heavy breaths and sobs filled the cold apartment. The anger he felt at himself came to the surface and soon he was trashing his apartment, pushing books off of shelves and shoving the paperwork from his desk.

He crumbled to the floor in sobs. Not only had his lost the respect of his team, his family, but he’d lost the love of his life too.

As Y/N walked out the apartment building, she smiled for the first time in months at the weight that was lifted off her chest. The sense of freedom she felt filled her with a sweet relief. She felt alive again. Being with Spencer had chipped away at her, but she was ready to rebuild herself, to do better, to start a new chapter in her life.

Spencer loved her then.

But she no longer loved him.

When you go,

and would you even turn to say

I don’t love you like I did yesterday.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid one shot #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler #mgg #mgg x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader

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