#How do you Calm your Mind? [5 unusual ways to add some Calm into your Life Today]

[sylvia-forest]

[CN] Shaw's 6th Anniversary event - Finale (Part 1)

⚡ Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for an Event which hasn't been released in EN yet!⚡

[Day 5]

MC: Do you remember the event "To Myself 365 Days Later" that we participated in last year?

Shaw: I haven't forgotten. Judging by your excitement, did you receive the letter you wrote to yourself last year? MC: Exactly! Did you receive yours? Shaw: Let me check... Oh, indeed, I did. MC: Quickly, let me see what questions you asked last year. Shaw: Hold on, do you want to see mine? How about exchanging yours? MC: ...Alright, let's look at mine first and then yours!

Under the bright lights, Shaw's eyes sparkled with curiosity, as if waiting for my answer.

Looking at the familiar yet distant questions in the email, my heart was stirred.

The first question I asked myself was: Are you living happily? My answer was...

After answering, I looked at the unusually quiet Shaw.

MC: Why aren't you saying anything? Not even a sarcastic comment...?

Shaw: Because you look so serious, much more refreshing than when you're usually making a fuss. Shaw: I don't want to spoil the atmosphere. MC: After all, it's a ceremonial thing, of course, we should treat it well. MC: Now it's your turn.

Shaw smiled, slowly took out his phone.

He didn't rush to open the email; instead, his gaze fixed on me.

Shaw: It's up to you to look, but let's get one thing straight—I won't answer every question. MC: Are you afraid your questions are "difficult to answer"? Shaw: What are you thinking? How could I dig a pit for myself?

He stubbornly squinted his eyes, raised his hand, and opened the email.

—

Life is not like archaeology—no clear origins, no clear classifications. Many questions need to be answered by oneself. But I've always enjoyed taking on challenges.

So today, I wrote down these questions. As for how to comprehend them, it's up to you a year from now.

As for me, I like to add difficulty for my future self. Now, tell me, which moment of hers was the silliest this year?

Do you know how to skillfully handle her when she pretends to be angry?

When she buries herself in work and ignores you, how can you attract her attention reasonably?

You probably have the answers already, right?

—

A ripple of emotions surged within me, and I happily leaned in front of Shaw.

MC: Why are all your questions related to me? Shaw: What do you think? In that situation last year, I couldn't think of anything else.

I paused for a moment, realizing what he meant by "that situation," and then chuckled.

MC: Some people looked composed at the time, but unexpectedly, they had their own troubles~

[T/N]: By ‘that situation’ means, Shaw and MC were having a “cold war” last year, although Shaw looked calm and composed on the outside but inside he was wrecking his mind as how to end this "cold war"! You can read the event from here.

He slightly averted his gaze, speaking somewhat unnaturally.

Shaw: Anyway, those are all in the past. MC: True, let's focus on the present~ So, these questions related to me should be easy to answer, right?

Seeing that I set a trap, Shaw grinned and seemed ready to counterattack.

Shaw: Still not difficult? The first one is a tough one. Shaw: You've had too many silly moments; I can't rank them. MC: ...Then you can skip it! Answer the second one first! Shaw: No, I like taking on challenges. Shaw: The silliest moment... Should I say singing in the shower? Shaw: Or perhaps every time you work overtime with that "life has no meaning" look? Shaw: Let's use the process of elimination. First, list the rare moments when you're clever. Shaw: This way, what's left will be the silliest... MC: Shaw!

I raised my fist, but he grabbed it and then turned me around, holding me in his arms.

Shaw: I already answered the second question. Shaw: In terms of counterattacking, I've become more proficient.

The breath tickling my neck made me laugh uncontrollably.

MC: Alright, alright, I won't argue with you! Answer the third one quickly!

Shaw: The third question is framed incorrectly.

I paused, turning to look at him.

Shaw: As long as it's something I want to do at the moment, I won't consider what's reasonable. Shaw: Whether it's kidnapping you or tempting you with something fun. Shaw: I won't let any opportunity slip by.

In the dim light, his confident expression gleamed. I chuckled and nestled into his embrace.

MC: But I won't cooperate with you every time.

Shaw: Doesn't matter. There's always a way to make you cooperate. Shaw: I'm always confident about that.

—

MC: Since it's a little flower hat you gave me, I've decided to let you help me put it on~ Shaw: ...Troublesome. MC: Hmph, then I'll put it on myself. ￣⁠ヘ⁠￣ Shaw: Did I say I wouldn't help? Shaw: There, it's on. (一_,一) You look even sillier now. Shaw: Indeed, this silly and cute style doesn't really suit you.

MC: Is that so? Then why does someone keep staring at me? MC: Could it be they find me cute but are too shy to say it out loud? Shaw: Tch, what's there to be shy about? MC: Oh? Is that so? My ears are perking up—Shaw! MC: (///¯皿¯) Why are you using the hat to press down my ears! MC: Shaw, aren't we supposed to be heading back? Where else are we going on the way? Shaw: You'll find out when you get there. Shaw: It's definitely beyond your expectations.

—

MC: Undersea tunnel...?! MC: Wait, isn't this supposed to be a detour on the way back? MC: How did we end up crossing several cities to get here? Shaw: It's a secret. Shaw: You'll find out when the time comes.

—

The moment I stepped into the passage, it was as if I had entered another world of wonder.

The arched passage, made of a giant transparent glass, extends forward under a "blue sky," and waves of fish swim by.

Curious, I look around, and Shaw raises his jaw at me.

Shaw: Just looking at it is boring. How about... we also swim under the sea? MC: You mean scuba diving! Shaw: Let's broaden our horizons a bit. Who said we can only scuba dive under the sea? Let's go for a mix-and-match style.

Shaw opened a hidden door behind him and took out two skate boards with a familiar pattern, making my eyes widen.

MC: Aren't these our backup boards? When did you put them in? Shaw: About a month or two ago. MC: ...?

Seeing my lack of reaction, Shaw puts his hand into his pocket.

Shaw: I overestimated you. I thought you'd figure out why I brought you here as soon as you arrived. Turns out you're not only dumb but also have a terrible memory.

MC: What do you mean?

Shaw: There was once an island lord who claimed he'd build the world's best undersea tunnel. But now it seems that guy was just all talk and no action.

This is a reference from the 'Four season event' (I didn't play this event so I don't know much about it (┬┬﹏┬┬)

MC: ......!

Memories of the summer island flood back, and I sweep my gaze around in disbelief, almost breaking into a high-pitched tone.

MC: No way? Shaw... you actually built an undersea tunnel for me?

Shaw: ......

He wordlessly flicks my forehead with his fingers.

Shaw: I'm not a God. Where would I build an undersea tunnel for you? MC: But you... Shaw: Thanks to Professor Shen being invited as a consultant for relics here, I took the opportunity to offer my help. Shaw: The condition was for him to clear this place for me for a day.

I pause, and emotions surge within me, mirroring the silent waves — I never expected that a casual remark would be remembered for so long.

MC: Even if you didn't build it, you still brought me here, so it's just as valuable in my heart. MC: But you're really good at keeping secrets. You hid it from me for a month or two, and only now...

I suddenly stop and realize the subtle aspect of this.

MC: Hold on, so you originally planned to bring me here? What about the RV trip...

Shaw: What's the big deal? This little accident won't affect my plans. Shaw: It's just making this day a bit more interesting before moving on. Nothing wrong with that.

Seeing him confidently raise his jaw, I teasingly blink my eyes.

MC: Really? It's not that smooth, after all. Your arrangement was unintentionally disrupted.

Shaw: If it's disrupted, it's disrupted. There are countless backup plans.

He takes a step forward, staring at me meaningfully.

Shaw: Hey, you said... no matter what choice I make, it can make this day interesting. I naturally can't be left out.

Those eyes, so close, glitter brightly, and my heart seems to miss a beat.

MC: It seems I did a good job setting an example~

He smiled, lightly kicked with the tip of his foot, and my skateboard was already in front of me.

Shaw: Alright, this is the only chance to skateboard in an unmanned underwater tunnel.

As he spoke, he stepped onto the skateboard, leaned forward, and drew a beautiful arc in the deep underwater world.

I also smiled and stepped onto the skateboard, catching up with him.

We freely roamed in the deserted underwater world, with strange and colorful shadows in the corner of our eyes.

Only the figure in my eyes was particularly clear.

His flamboyant clothing seemed to turn into a fish tail, leading me to swim against the world, galloping towards the distant and unreachable light.

I accelerated to keep pace with him, holding onto his hand.

MC: Shaw, today is the happiest day for me. Shaw: Don't speak too soon; the day is far from over.

After some play, Shaw took me to the end of the room.

A touch of anticipation welled up in my heart as I reached out and gently pushed open the door—

Under the azure light, this cozy glass room was covered with dream-like continuous warm light, like the only end in the deep sea.

Everything here was obviously carefully arranged. I couldn't help but imagine how the person in front of me, who was not good at such things, handled it. He must have been a bit impatient, criticizing his own choice of decorations while arranging them with an air of righteousness.

Maybe when someone passed by the door, he would immediately stop. His actions would freeze, putting his hands in his pockets, pretending nothing had happened.

These hurried yet chic figures vividly appeared in my mind, gradually merging with the person in front of me.

Thinking step by step, I walked to him, tiptoeing playfully.

MC: I didn't expect someone to have such a sense of ceremony. Setting up must not be easy, right?

Shaw: Don't underestimate me; as long as it's something I want to do, there's nothing I can't do. MC: Hmm, I certainly know that. It's just that your delicate side is not often seen.

I paused, teasingly took a step forward.

MC: It seems like I'm seeing different sides of Shaw more often now~

He bent down, a warm breath rushing towards my nose.

Shaw: Is that so? Are you sure you've seen everything clearly?

He was too close; when I instinctively tried to step back, he directly embraced my waist, blocking the "retreat."

The next moment, with a crisp snap of his fingers, a cluster of electric light burst at his fingertips, and the overhead lights instantly went out.

In the dim darkness, a nearly ethereal voice echoed in my ears.

Wooo—

Like a curtain, a shadow slowly closed from above, almost swallowing all the faint light in sight.

I stared blankly, a huge whale swimming past the skylight.

Its dorsal fin towered high, like a lonely island lost in the deep sea, wandering in the boundless ocean.

Such an unrealistic scene made me feel like I was in a woven dream.

MC: ...!

The next second, another burst of brilliant light and shadow suddenly bloomed on the wall, like fireworks filling the underwater world.

How could there be fireworks here?

I hurriedly turned around to the other floor-to-ceiling window, only to find that the incredibly dazzling "fireworks" were continuously blooming underwater.

It was not as grand and overwhelming as the previous two years. It didn't even have sound, but the brilliant colors stole all my attention.

I stared in amazement, still unable to react to how such fireworks could bloom underwater.

But for some reason, my smile became even brighter.

Shaw: Why are you smiling so foolishly?

I came to my senses, slowly blinked my eyes.

MC: I thought I had already guessed what "thing" you were hiding, but now it seems like I need to correct it. Shaw: Well, let me hear it.

My gaze swept around and finally settled back on him.

MC: At first, I thought the thing you were hiding was—"being carefree." MC: After all these days, although you rarely made plans and arrangements, every single thing took me by surprise. MC: I thought you would give me excitement, but you gave me a gentle rain in Watertown; MC: I thought you were going to take me on challenges and adventures, but you gave me the courage and determination I needed the most; MC: Even when I thought it was my turn to surprise you, you made me realize... MC: A surprise can also be created by two people at the same time.

Shaw listened quietly, with even the fireworks merging into his bright gaze.

MC: But until just now, until one unexpected moment after another, I realized... MC: The thing you hid might be simply "liking." MC: Everything happens only under the premise of liking. MC: Only then does it come in front of me.

I paused, gently hooking his finger.

MC: Shaw, am I right?

It seemed like my smile also caught his, a rare thread of joy pouring out from his eyes.

Shaw: Almost, but you didn't mention the most important part. MC: The most important? Shaw: Just like you said, this is only the "premise," and what comes after is the main topic.

In the dim light, the color hidden in his eyes became even brighter.

Shaw: What I truly hid is an "invitation." Shaw: I know very well what kind of person I am. Shaw: I never care about what is the best; I only like what interests me.

He paused, his gaze freely sketching on my face.

Shaw: So once I encounter it, I won't let go. Shaw: And I invite her to stay with me and keep it interesting all the way.

I smiled, holding his fingers a little tighter.

MC: It sounds like an invitation that cannot be refused, but...

I smiled, holding his fingers a little tighter.

MC: No matter where you go, I will be with you. MC: If you want to play in the mortal world, I'll "arm myself" and venture with you. MC: If you want rare tranquility, I'll hold your hand tightly and watch the sunrise and sunset together.

I took a deep breath and looked at him seriously.

MC: So, no matter what the future holds, I'm willing to burn my life and unleash it to the fullest with you.

He raised a carefree smile and gently pulled me closer to him.

Shaw: I remember your words. Shaw: What about my final touch?

I was taken aback.

MC: You've been secretly taking so many photos of me, and I didn't have time to prepare any finishing touch here.

Shaw: Well, in that case, I'll do it myself.

In the silent depths of the sea, a hot kiss gently pried open my lips.

Everything was so quiet, quiet enough that I could only hear the breath near my ears and the pounding of my excited heartbeat.

I slowly closed my eyes, falling into the endless sea with him.

Another year.

And there will be countless more.

—

🚐 Finale (Part 2)

#sksksks life is really hard 😭 #anyways i won't be spoiling so much cuz the last part is chef kiss! #the grand surprise he prepared for her was so beautiful and how he remembers every single casual remarks of her 🥺 #and let's not forget about MC beautiful confession! she truly understand shaw character so well #mlqc spoilers #mlqc cn #mlqc shaw #mlqc ling xiao #mlqc translations #mr love queen's choice #mlqc #love and producer

[sashaisnotokay]

Here we go, a little soft romantic drabble about Watari’s past inspired by snowstorm behind my window. Forgive me if it’s too sweet. We have enough sourness in our everyday lives, I believe.

❄️

Quillsh Wammy, an unmarried British young man from a respected family, was attending a Swan lake ballet in Saint-Petersburg theatre.

Being raised in a very traditional, wealthy and well-known (in certain circles) family was not only giving great opportunities, but also responsibilities. Firm, kind and calm, (but very passionate when it’s about science) Quillsh was dealing great with his family’s expectations. Except in one area. Marriage.

Young handsome man, known for his sharp mind and kind heart, didn’t experience the lack of female attention. In fact, he liked many women... but never had a wish to marry any of them.

Still, the pressure from the family has continued. He was introduced to a famous Russian ballerina - Anna. She was graceful, beautiful and smart. After a dinner together, Anna (being very interested in him, although, trying her best not to show it) invited him to her performance. He gladly accepted an invitation.

And here he was, in snowy Saint-Petersburg, with weirdly mixed feeling of being out of place and... anticipation.

First part was over, and Quillsh has quit the cold hall only to find a theatre cafe being full of people. His throat has started to hurt, so he had to drink something hot.

He turned away from the loud crowd, took his coat and got out on the street.

Snowflakes were falling from the sky silently and lightly. There was no wind. Car horns and usual city sounds seemed to be muted. Quillsh stopped for a moment and looked up. This moment felt like magic, and later in life he will return to this moment in his memory. He will think, that maybe this really was some kind of magic, because only moments later he will find something he was never actually seeking, but was always unconsciously wishing for.

There was a little cafe across the street.

Quillsh has made a decision immediately and ran across the street, careful not to slip. When he opened the door, a wave of warm deliciously smelling air reached him. It was quiet, with only few people in the cafe. Quillsh has come to the counter. A young woman put away her book and turned to him.

“Hello, how can I help you?”

Calm voice. Shoulder length light brown hair. Soft facial features. Ordinary looking person. But still, she looked... different. What was so unusual about her? Quillsh couldn’t define.

“One cup of tea, please” said he in Russian, pulling out his wallet, “with milk. That’s it”.

The woman gave Quillsh a fast curious glance.

“May I ask, are you from England?”

“Yes” Quillsh answered quite surprised, “I am from Southampton”.

The woman noticed Quillsh’s surprised look and smiled.

“People don’t add milk to tea here. But another way I never would’ve guessed - your Russian is perfect”.

“Thank you. But I think I do look like a foreigner, considering how unprepared I am for Russian winter”, Quillsh looked down on his boots now wet from melted snow.

“Oh, that’s not surprising”, the woman replied, “You were attending the theatre, didn’t you? No one wears warm clothes to the theatre”. She returned him a change, “Please, take a sit, I will bring you your tea”.

Quillsh choose a little table for two near the window and sat down. Light snowflakes were still flying over the city so beautifully and peacefully, but his attention was captured by the woman at the counter, who was now making his tea. Precise movements, careful not to spill a drop. Brown eyes looking peaceful and curious. Soft voice saying goodbye to leaving customers. Pale hands with elegant silver watch, bringing him his cup of tea.

“Here you are” she said, putting a cup of tea on his table.

“Thank you” Quillsh replied.

It was so simple, but there was no much else needed. The tea was warming up his throat and reducing the pain. Quillsh looked at his watch. He had 5 more minutes. He had to go. His planned date with Anna started to lose its meaning, but as a responsible man, he had to be there - he promised. But Quillsh knew he will return. There was something in that woman, that he has never seen in another women before... He didn’t know what this was, but felt committed to find out.

He stood up, ready to go.

She looked at him.

“May I know your name?” asked Quillsh.

“Vera” she replied.

“Thank you. Goodbye”.

“Goodbye”.

And he was gone.

Later, when Quillsh Wammy remembered his first encounter with his dear wife, he finally was able to give that special feeling a name. That feeling made letting go of a chance to marry a famous ballerina so easy, and helped Quillsh to understand he made a right choice when his family turned their backs to him after marrying “a lower-class woman”. The feeling that made him to return to the little cafe the very next day.

He felt she was his home.

#death note #death note headcanons #headcanon #quillsh wammy #death note watari #watari #drabble

[clouds-rambles]

hey bestie i was hoping to request xiao, venti, childe and zhongli where the the reader and the character have just had an argument + the reader needs time to calm down from the argument. omg maybe the reader comes back with a gift to apologise

Ask and ye shall receive <3. I’m the kind of person who needs time to relax and process the situation after an argument. I’m always too worked up (read angry) to kiss and make up straight after an argument.

Pairings; (Separate) Xiao, Venti, Childe, Zhongli x reader

Warning(s); breif mention of a wound, alcoholism, swearing

Keep reading under the cut!

Xiao

You’re probably being too harsh on the guy

You had just come back from a tough mission with a few more scrapes than you normally come back, a nasty cut in particular situated on your shoulder was what caused the argument to kick off in the first place

In hindsight the argument started from Xiao’s concern of you getting hurt worse but you were too tired from the commission to really read it as concern

But boy now do you feel bad. You both went your separate ways for the evening and in the morning you still haven’t caught sight of your partner. You eventually go around Wangshu Inn and ask if they’ve seen Xiao.

You get told that he’s out for the day, apparently he caught wind of something manifesting in the mountains. So, you suppose that it’s high time to make an apology gift

And what’s a better apology gift than your partners favourite food? Because your arguments are often few and far between you don’t mind making Xiao almond tofu since it’s not something you’ve associated with apologising

Though you’re aware that the sweet snack means nothing if you’re not sincere with your apology. 

So what’s more sincere than sitting at the highest balcony of Wangshu Inn and wait for Xiao. You don’t mind how long it takes for him to come back just as long as you get to apologise

He comes back just after dusk and you pour your apologise profusely and tell him you understand that he was coming from a place of concern

Xiao is a little distant a short while after the apology but soon you’re reassured that he accepts it when he places his hand on the table for you to take hold of

The two of you sit in silence sat hand in hand while Xiao eats his tofu

You watch him eat with a grin on your face, sometimes just watching the Yaksha sit still and do his thing is enough to keep you in a trance for the evening

-

Venti

Maybe you got into an argument because you’re concerned over Venti’s drinking habits, sure he’s an immortal god but doesn’t he worry about his liver?

Sure the argument started because you’re worried about the archon but boy does he make you angry with his non-sensical thought processes

Venti is the kind of guy who wouldn’t let you leave without settling the argument

Even if the happy medium isn’t actually going to bring any change into the questionable drinking habits

But this argument just feels a little different, you’ve had the same conversation form months but nothing seems to change

You’re not even sure if Venti has actually listened to anything you have said to him about it

So you tell him “Do what you want, but you’re sleeping on the sofa tonight” yeah you just resigned him to sofa treatment. As much as you hate it you’re far too heated to just kiss and make up right now

So the night passes and you wake up with the cold space beside you, you’re confused until you remember the previous nights events

Though your unusual silence in the room doesn’t last long, you presume Venti sensed that you’re awake because you hear a knock at your bedroom door, you’re surprised that Venti is actually here and that he hadn’t sulked off to Windrise where you had originally planned to apologise to him

As you open the door you notice your partner stood before you with a bunch of hand picked cecelia's and dandelions and an apologetic look on his face

You’ve never known Venti to speak so fast he apologises profusely for causing you such worry and promises that he’ll try to drink less, he mentions that he doesn’t wish to give up his Friday and Saturday drinking nights but he’s willing to tone it down during the week if it stops you worrying 

You thank him sincerely and find a vase to put the flowers in

You hug Venti and apologise yourself for being such a worry wart and causing such a big argument

“I’m glad I have someone to worry about me, I don’t know what I’d do without you” You can’t help but swoon at his flowery words and grin at him before the two of you start off the day

-

Childe

It’s a bad habit he has, when you try and talk about something serious with him he constantly cracks jokes at the situation. Which in its self isn’t the worse thing in the world, even you crack jokes to lighten the situation but at some points it goes too far

And today is too far, what started off as a disagreement about where you were going to eat lunch ended up in a full scale (mostly one sided) argument in Childes office about how he can’t take things seriously

You, of course, know this to be false. You’ve seen him in action against his foes and bank business but just in this moment when you are so angry about the situation those rational thoughts go out the window

And what does the bastard do? He cracks another fucking joke

“Is this what I am?” you ask finally reaching the catalyst of your temper “A fucking joke?” 

And boy does the exclamation comes to a surprise to him. No matter how frequent your use of curse words you’ve never directed them at him so it catches Childe by even more surprise

“[name] I’m sorry I didn’-” he tries to apologise

“You didn’t fucking what Tartaglia? Want to make me feel like a joke? Cause you’ve been going down that road at every fucking disagreement we have” you cut him off in a fit of rage “Sleep in your own fucking bed tonight” you add before storming out his office

He tried to follow you out the bank before he was stopped by a fatui agent about some urgent debt collection, so he never got to apologise immediately

And that’s how the next couple of days go, you’ve taken most of the time to cool off and avoid anywhere Childe might be hanging about, your plan works better considering said harbinger was out of Liyue Harbour for a couple of days

Though on the third night Childe appears at your door, he doesn’t bring any gifts, just himself. Childe enjoys gifting things to you so he doesn’t want you or him to associate gift giving with apologies. You’re more than thankful for this

Childe apologises before you even have the chance to invite him in and takes your hand and wholeheartedly promises to try and not make jokes when you have a disagreement

You also apologise and agree that, in hindsight, you blew things out of proportion. You reassure him that he’s a hardworking man and that a few out of place jests make everything more bearable to him.

You invite him inside for some tea, your bed isn’t as cold as it was tonight

-

Zhongli

Disagreements with Zhongli never seem to get any further than that. The archon likes to listen to you vent your frustrations over a cup of herbal tea and usually that calms you down and everything is settled before supper

But every once in a while you’re a little high strung. For instance this time you’re running on a total of 5 hours sleep over the last 4 days. Sleep deprivation could possibly be your middle name at this point 

The only thing you want to do when you get back from your restless trip from Mondstat back home is to just sleep the next few years 

But the sweetie that Zhongli is he quizzes you about your great to horrific trip

Zhongli pulls all the stops he readys some dinner for you and draws a bath when you get back. He even gives you a small lecture about how you’ll feel terrible not washing before going to bed

But with your tired ears, eyes and brain it feels like a personal attack in your entire self “I’ve had it up to here with bloody hillichurls for 4 horrific days, all I want to do is pass the living hell out thank you”

Replace the bloodys with fucks and that’s probably more accurate to what you said

Zhongli is taken a little aback, being an older traditional man it’s unbecoming of anyone to use such sailor language. And thus the male lectures you about it

You take that as about as well as you expect, you don’t respond to him and favour walking out the room, barely getting undressed and collapsing on your shared bed

You wake up the next morning (though when you peek outside it seems like it’s after noon) disorientated. You don’t actually remember coming home the previous day 

Then the memory resurfaces of you yelling at your spouse and regret washes over you

Surely the gift you had prepared for Zhongli would be good enough as repercussions of yesterdays outburst

You see Zhongli in the dining room, to the untrained eye he looks like he’s in a normal mood but to you, you can see his brooding emanating off of him. If you dare point it out Zhongli will deny that he even broods in the first place

He’s the first to greet you without turning around. Rightfully so, he’s still in a mood. So you just profusely apologise for your outburst

You explain that you were running on next to no sleep and while that doesn’t excuse your outburst it certainly explains it. If your spouse so wishes to ask how your trip was you would comply much more now since you’ve had a good sleep behind you. 

You then change the subject to the gift in your hands, some rose tea. Something Zhongli had mentioned when you were courting all that time ago. 

The man sits you on his lap and explains to you about how it was out of place of him to assume you’d be in a talking mood immediately after your travels. You reassure him that under normal circumstances you wouldn’t mind talking about it, you promise that you will do everything in your power to not let the previous night repeat

You then bring out his gift, rose tea, which he had mentioned wanting to taste a little while back, and before long you’re back in the cycle of Zhongli profusely explaining to you some random subject (in this instance rose tea) before you go off to make dinner where you finally share the details of your travels

Hope this is okay! <3 I kind of went a little ham with the Childe and Zhongli one in comparison to the other two hope you don’t mind lmao <3

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #reader insert #xiao x reader #genshin xiao x reader #genshin xiao #venti x reader #genshin venti x reader #genshin venti #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #genshin childe x reader #genshin childe #zhongli x reader #genshin zhongli x reader #genshin zhongli

[ethanesimp]

WHEN YOU’RE GONE // D.D.

Pairing: Mob Boss! Damiano David x Mob GN! Reader (it was originally written with a fem! reader so please let me know if you spot any slip ups on my part)

Summary: Soulmates are already a difficult concept to grasp and things don’t seem to get any easier when you like a person who already has a soulmate.

Word Count: 9.8k (it’s so long lakjd)

Warnings: Swearing, death and mentions of it, injuries, angst -lots of it-, it’s a mob fic so violence, smoking, Damiano being kind of an asshole? Me probably using swear words in italian wrong... Just read with caution pls

Masterlist // Taglist link in bio

A/N: If you’ve seen this before, it’s probably because this has been written and posted on my other blog @pparkersbitch as a Tom Holland fanfiction at the beginning of the year (which has now been deleted). It’s the same person and I’m not stealing anyone’s work :) I just like it and wanted to bring it back. I did add/modify some tiny details though. The idea is probably dumb, but I’m sharing anyways.

Taglist: @gretavanfleetlove​ @superchrystaldrug​ @reputationdamiano​​

“This isn’t how I wanted to start my morning,” Your best friend mumbled in a tired voice. You could barely hear him from where you were standing over the sounds the old -and surely broken- coffee machine kept making and the music playing from his phone.

“Well, sucks to be us, huh?” You chuckled and poured coffee on both of your cups as you did a small dance to try and shake the tiredness off your body. You handed Damiano his cup after preparing his coffee the way he liked it, a teaspoon of sugar with a splash of milk, and walked with him to the large office down the hall, “I don’t get why Ethan and Thomas can’t do this instead of us.”

The room was always cold and you seemed to forget about it most of the time since it still slipped your mind to wear a sweater or hoodie over your thin pajama shirt. You grabbed one of the blankets from the small black couch on the corner of the room and wrapped it around your body as best as you could with your free hand. 

You sat down on the chair next to him to have a better look at all the papers and files he had spread out on the desk, “What exactly are we looking for?” You asked with furrowed eyebrows. All those documents were enough to keep you occupied for the whole day if you didn’t work fast enough.

“We are looking for any leads to the drug cartel or its leader. Really anything that can help us find them,” Damiano explained and took a sip of his coffee as he opened the first file. 

You had been trying to track a drug cartel ever since they infiltrated your warehouse and stole some of your products. Damiano’s father had been at both of your necks ever since it happened as if it had been your fault instead of the incompetent guards that were supposed to be guarding the entrance at all times, “I’m sure these are people we’ve made deals with in the past, they wouldn’t have been able to break in otherwise. We’ve always been far too careful for this to be a mere coincidence.”

He removed the gold ring from his ring finger and left it on the jewelry bowl you had placed on his desk. You had known Damiano David and his family for years. For as long as you had known him, the band on his ring finger had been gold, and you hated it. 

That stupid little gold band was a silent reminder that he had met his soulmate and there was nothing to be done about it. For months you had silently hoped and prayed for Damiano to be your soulmate, but any illusion or wish you had of it happening, had vanished the moment you saw the gold ring on his finger for the first time. You later discovered he avoided wearing it on his hand because it put his soulmate at risk of being found, but he still kept it close to him at all times by using it as a necklace.

You avoided wearing yours for an entirely different reason. The black ring and all the stares and words of pity that came with it were saddening and something you didn’t need. While gold was a reminder of love and good luck, black was a reminder that your soulmate was no longer alive and you were doomed to spend the rest of your life alone. You were sure the band had been black for most of your life, or at least that’s how you remembered it.

It was safe to say you were jealous of Damiano’s soulmate, Marlee. Not only was she one of the most beautiful women you had ever met, but she got to have perhaps the most amazing man by her side until her dying day, something you could never have in any way that wasn’t platonic.

You successfully ignored it most days, which wasn’t so hard to do since you had better things to think about most of the time, but nights were always the hardest. In your loud and chaotic life, there was a speck in time where everything quieted and calmed down. During those few hours was when you’d break down and grieve for the person whose name you didn’t even get to know. You’d cry for being stupid enough to fall for someone who wasn’t only your best friend, but who also had a girlfriend.

“Damiano, Y/N?” Marlee’s sweet voice interrupted your train of thoughts. You had been reading the files consciously enough to notice anything unusual, but you had paid no mind to anything else until she walked into the room. You smiled politely at her and waved. 

She walked up to Damiano and he immediately closed all files with any sort of photo that might be too graphic for her to look at. Marlee cupped his face and pressed her lips to his for a few moments that felt like an eternity to you, watching everything from the side as a feeling of jealousy invaded your senses. You did nothing but look at the painting on the wall until they stopped locking lips, which took a bit longer than you would’ve liked.

“Did you two find anything?” Marlee asked once she pulled away from Damiano. He gave her a look you knew as ‘I cannot tell you anything about the mob to keep you safe’. She had been involved with the mob’s administration for most of her life, only after she met Damiano and her father united his mob with Damiano’s did she stop working. 

You had been brought in as a replacement of sorts once Marlee stopped doing any mob business per Damiano’s request. His parents had saved yours from a legal accident, which left you in debt with his family, so you didn’t have much say on whether you’d join the mob or not. 

Something you were grateful for was that Damiano always kept your hands clean. No matter what business it was, he made sure to keep you out of any sort of situation in which you’d have to hurt or get hurt by another member of the mob. Most people that worked for Damiano didn’t have the pleasure of knowing him as the lenient and caring individual he was around you.

You excused yourself after spending a few more minutes flipping through the files in search of something but ultimately found nothing. It was supposed to be your free day, or at least that was what Damiano had promised. Apart from that impromptu search for information at 5 am, he promised he’d have Ethan, Vic, or Thomas help with anything he needed. 

That was why you took the liberty to lock yourself inside your room and put your phone on silent. You desperately wanted to catch up on all the hours of sleep you had lost in between those early morning duty calls and coffee runs. No matter how much you enjoyed spending time with Damiano, you still missed your normal sleep schedule.

-

When you woke up a few hours later, the house was completely silent. The usual chatter coming from the kitchen wasn’t there, neither was the noise of Vic repeatedly firing bullets at the targets in the garden to practice her aim like she did every morning or the soft sound of Thomas softly strumming his guitar as he tried to piece an unplanned melody together with the assistance of Ethan’s drumming.

It wasn’t a Sunday, which meant they weren’t away visiting their families. They were all supposed to be home. That last thought made you nervous and you couldn’t help but wonder if something had happened while you were asleep. Being in the mob, you knew a lot of unexpected things happened all the time and you had to be prepared for them all.

You walked to the door, determined to investigate what was wrong. Your hand was already firmly grasping the doorknob and you were about to undo the lock when someone knocked harshly on the door, startling you. 

Without hesitation, you jumped back and reached for the gun stuffed in one of the drawers nearby, “Y/N? You awake?” 

You let go of the drawer’s handle and your tense body relaxed at the sound of Victoria’s raspy voice, “Fuck, Vic, you scared me,” You spoke as you opened the door to be met with her panicked blue eyes. Your eyebrows furrowed at her worried expression, but before you could ask, she grabbed you by the arm softly and dragged you out of the room.

Once you were in the hallway, you finally heard everything with a lot more clarity. The faint sound of glass clinking before falling to the floor, Thomas’s exasperated shouts, and Damiano’s complaints. You looked at Victoria, expecting an explanation.

“I don’t know what happened,” She began, “One second he was alright, then at like 9 AM Ethan and I heard them fighting. She’s gone and Damiano’s locked in his room, won’t let anyone in. Thomas is trying to get him to talk while Ethan looks for the keys.”

You walked past Victoria and ran up the stairs. Damiano’s room was right above yours. Upon walking up to the third floor of the house, you saw Thomas repeatedly knocking on Damiano’s door. Once he heard footsteps and spotted you, it was like relief washed all over him at the sight of you.

“Do you mind trying?” He asked, “He’s been asking for you,” Thomas added with a sigh as he brushed his messy hair out of his forehead. You nodded and got closer to the door once he got out of the way.

With hesitation, you knocked on the door and patiently waited for a response, which arrived only after you knocked once again, “Vaffanculo, Thomas! Which part of your tiny fucking brain cannot understand that I want to be left alone?”

You flinched at his words and took a long breath as you gathered the confidence to speak up, “I-It’s Y/N, Dami,” You said, loud enough for him to hear you from where he was. You were expecting rejection; if Damiano didn’t want to talk to people who were as close to him as siblings, why would he talk to you? Sure, you were one of his best friends, but he’d known Thomas for longer than he—

Your thoughts were interrupted when Damiano opened the door and quickly dragged you in before slamming it shut once more. For the first few minutes, you stood in silence while Damiano faced the door. You couldn’t see his face or his eyes, so you had no idea what could be going through his mind, so you focused on your surroundings instead. 

The room was a mess, but not more than it usually was. What alarmed you was the shattered glass on the floor as well as the drops of blood that stained the white floor. You looked back at your best friend and noticed that it was dripping from his hand. 

“Damiano,” You called, “Amore, your hand,” He turned to look at you and that’s when you finally saw his red and swollen eyes as well his tear-stained cheeks. His gaze softened once his eyes fell on yours. He choked back a sob and turned away from you once again.

If his hand hadn’t been bleeding, you wouldn’t have hesitated on wrapping your arms around his neck and trying to comfort him. Instead, you ran to his bathroom to grab the first-aid kit. After years of being in the business, treating Damiano’s cuts and injuries wasn’t anything new to you, but you were oblivious as to why he was in such a state in the first place.

Being the person he was, Damiano had learned to conceal his emotions incredibly well to protect himself, even around the people he trusted the most. You had only seen him that shaken once when something had gone terribly wrong. The fact that Marlee was gone too only gave you a worse feeling. The fact that her clothes were all gone from the closet didn’t ease your worried mind either.

Damiano was sitting on the bed patiently waiting for you to return. Once you did, he avoided your gaze and said nothing as you examined his hand. The cuts were all superficial and would surely cure on their own in a few days, which was why you only focused on removing the tiny shards of glass that had stuck to his skin with a pair of tweezers.

Once that was done and you had cleaned the cuts, you wrapped a bandage around his hand once and secured it with a small piece of tape. You sat in silence for a while, you didn’t comment on the sobs that would escape his lips every once in a while or the tears that had started falling down his cheeks.

Instead, you waited until he was ready to say something, “I don’t even know how to tell you this,” Damiano mumbled. His eyes stayed glued to the floor. He seemed… embarrassed to look you in the eye.

“I was finally going to do it this morning, N/N,” He said as a sigh escaped past his lips and he took a small velvet box out of his pocket. He didn’t have to say what was inside the box because you knew exactly what it was. Damiano had been planning on proposing for months, but there was always something that managed to get in the way of completing his goal.

“She went to the bathroom and had left her phone on my bedside table. I was going to get the ring and Y/N… I-I swear to God I didn’t want to look but the messages kept coming, one after the other, the fucking phone wouldn’t stop making noise. Cazzo, she was the one feeding information to the drug cartel and Lord knows to who else,” He said those words in one breath and you had barely been able to catch them all. Damiano threw the box at the wall angrily and from the noise, you didn’t doubt there’d be an indent there.

“I asked her about it and you have no idea how much I wished she’d deny it, but she didn’t even try,” Damiano cried. Unexpectedly, Damiano turned his body around to face yours and wrapped his arms around your waist while he buried his face on your neck.

It took you by surprise, but you said nothing. Instead, you focused on rubbing circles on his back and whispering soothing words into his ear. Part of you knew there was something else going on, even if you didn’t ask. You hadn’t seen Damiano cry in a long time and even then you saw nothing more than just a few tears rolling down his cheeks. What happened with Marlee had truly driven him right to the edge and he couldn’t keep in everything he had been trying so hard to hide.

-

In the four months that followed, you didn’t see Marlee once. She never had the guts to return after Damiano found out about everything she had been doing behind his back. At first, he had been utterly destroyed by her absence, it pained you to see him shut everything and everyone out with the lame excuse that he had work to do. Every single time he did so, you’d quietly sit down and help him despite his complaints. 

He got better though. Once enough time passed, he healed, but all that love he had once felt for her was now nothing more than pure hatred every single time her name was mentioned. You knew better than anyone that it wasn’t the healthiest thing to do, but it didn’t matter how many times you told him so because it never truly changed much.

As for the mob, things seemed to calm down once Damiano and Ethan were able to track down the leader of the drug cartel and get the stolen products back. Everything was too good and too quiet. While your four friends enjoyed all that peace, you couldn’t help but worry about something being wrong. It was a silly thing anyway, there was nothing that gave you even the slightest confirmation that your worry wasn’t just fueled by paranoia, not a single thing.

You should’ve been grateful instead. Your sleep schedule had gotten acceptably regular and there was no more working from 5 am to 10 pm every single day. You also had time to finally sit down and read the books that had been sitting on your untouched shelf ever since the start of the year, just like you were doing at that very moment while the boys were playing poker in the basement and Vic was on a date.

Damiano walked into your room eventually, still smelling like the cigarette he had just been smoking minutes back. He couldn’t help but scrunch up his nose as the smell of lemon incense burning hit his nostrils.

You looked up and giggled at his disgusted expression, “You cannot be disgusted when you were the one who walked into my room smelling like cigar and beer,” Damiano rolled his eyes and plopped down on the bed next to you.

“Incense is bad for you,” You shot Damiano a killer look and closed your book. He gave you a funny look back and then put his attention on your book, “What are you reading anyway?”

You hummed and showed him the cover. It had a beautiful yet simple design, which accurately represented the story hidden in between those pages, “Okay so, it’s the story of these people that all get invited to this island. They’re all summoned there for different reasons but it turns out they all have this common enemy. It’s terrifying because they get killed off one by one when a children’s lullaby plays. I truly cannot explain it enough to do justice to how intense this book is.”

“Oh and before that I got to read the most wonderful romance book! It was apparently the first book written where soulmates weren’t a thing and it was just a piece of art. Beautifully written, made me cry for hours too.”

Damiano smiled and you could almost see all the gears turning inside his brain, “Wouldn’t it be amazing?”

“What would?”

He shrugged and propped himself up on his elbows to get a better look at you, “A world without soulmates, where you’re not bound to someone since birth.”

You sighed and turned to look at him, “It’s our own fault… being bound, I mean. No angel from the heavens came down to tell us we have to love our soulmate as anything more than a close friend, you know? It can be purely platonic, we’re just stupid.”

“Were you ever able to fall in love with your soulmate or was it just platonic?” Damiano asked. You never talked much about soulmates with him. He still didn’t know your soulmate had been dead for as long as you could remember.

“I never got to know them,” You smiled sadly and showed him the black ring you had gotten used to wearing around your neck, carefully tucked under your shirt to stay unseen. His mouth fell open as he grabbed the ring and inspected it closely. It was the first time he had seen a black ring.

“I didn’t know… I’m sorry,” Damiano let the ring go. You shrugged and waved your hand to silently show it wasn’t too important, “I thought you guys were separated or something.”

You shook your head, “Mom says the ring turned black when I was six, but I don’t really remember so I just like to pretend I never had one in the first place… I don’t know.”

There was a question on the tip of your tongue, but you didn’t want to ask it, as intrigued as you were to know the answer. You hadn’t talked about her ever since she left and he’d most likely avoid the question because he truly wanted to keep her name out of his mouth. Nonetheless, he noticed your hesitance because you suddenly got too silent. 

“You can ask, you know? I know I just touched on a sensitive topic, so…” You nodded. Both of you were lying on your backs, looking up at the ceiling which had some of those glow-in-the-dark stars and planets you had glued when you first moved in to feel less lonely.

You hummed softly as you tried to find the right words. You didn’t want to be too straightforward with your question in fear of upsetting your best friend even though he had asked you the same question minutes earlier, “Did-did you ever… you know, fall in love with her?” 

Damiano thought about it in silence, you had probably caught him off-guard with your question, “No, not really. Not in the way I was expecting at least. You know truth be told, I was a bit disappointed. Don’t get me wrong, she had this angelic look to her, she was a stunning girl. I just- there was nothing we had in common other than being soulmates. For years I had seen my parents act like they shared one mind and just thought the same things. I always imagined it’d be like that for me too.

“My expectations couldn’t have been further from what it truly was like. Honestly, I’m not even sure which part of our relationship was true anymore. Now that I look back on it, I’ve realized most of the things she did or said were just to get information out of me.” 

It was weird to hear him say all that. As a person who always got to look at the way Marlee and Damiano interacted with one another, you would’ve never expected Damiano to feel that way, “And,” He continued, “I was expecting it to be someone else.”

His last confession made you turn around to look at him. It was the first time he had admitted that, probably because of the beer he had been drinking while playing with his friends.

“I know it sounds terrible but… I met her and this other person on the same day, almost at the same time. I didn’t notice my ring had turned gold until much later. I had only been with them both and people I already knew. I thought it had been the other person until she told me her ring had changed too. Meanwhile, the other one said nothing. Now I realize it would’ve been impossible for them to be my soulmate.”

It might’ve been because he was telling you all those things and you felt safe to admit what you felt, or maybe because you were tired of bottling it up for so long. Either way, you spoke up, not caring if you’d regret it later, “It’s not as terrible as you might think.”

“Look, I’m not bound to anyone. The black ring gives me the freedom of loving someone else. I never met my soulmate so there’s no guilt in being with someone else. It’s supposed to be a perfect thing, Dami, only it isn’t. I know a lot of people who’re also blacksouled,” You hated using the word. It was usually how people would refer to those who didn’t have a soulmate anymore, “And I fell in love.”

“T-that’s great!” Damiano replied, “Why didn’t you tell me? I mean, not like you’re obliged to tell me anything just because we’re friends but I-”

You interrupted his rant, “I fell in love with someone whose soulmate’s still alive.”

“So what? You said it yourself. Are they together?” He asked. You told him they weren’t. If only he knew you were talking about him… He’d probably run away and never speak to you again, “Then fuck it. Fuck the rules and everything else society has to say.”

“It’s not that simple, Dami. I truly wish it was, but it isn’t,” You wanted nothing more than for the conversation to be over. If it went any further, you knew you’d spill every single thing. It had gotten far too hard to conceal your feelings when you were close to him. Now that you were talking about them, it’d be even harder.

You got up and walked to your bookshelf, where you started accommodating your books as an excuse to avoid being so close to him, to avoid his curious gaze. Even if they weren’t together anymore, you knew Damiano would reject you, that was far too obvious. Even if he felt the same, after what happened, it’d take Damiano a lot of effort to ever trust someone in such an intimate way, even if that someone was you, his best friend.

“Why? It is that simple. If they’re not together, what’s stopping you? You’ll never know what could happen if you don’t try,” You turned around to look at him, fists clenched by your sides, “Listen Y/N, I know you’re scared of relationships and everything they involve but you cannot let that sto—” 

“Fine then, I’m in love with you! I can barely breathe when I’m around you because my love for you is so suffocatingly strong, and I can’t think straight either! You and your stupidly handsome face drive me insane. How’s that?” You admitted, interrupting his small speech midway, too irritated to process what you had just said. Once you did, your hand flew to your mouth and you shook your head. You wanted to say it wasn’t true, no, it was nothing more than a lie to get him to stop poking his nose into your love life. Except it wasn’t and, if you were being honest, no part of you wanted to hide it anymore.

Just like you expected, he said nothing. Damiano stayed silent for a few seconds before getting up and walking out without another word. He slammed the door on the way out so hard you wouldn’t be surprised if the door separated from its hinges.

For the weeks that followed, Damiano avoided you as much as possible. You were still his right-hand person and needed to be present at every meeting and would have to discuss any type of business with him. It used to be your favorite part of the day when you got to sit in the meeting room with Damiano and discuss plans to make the mob prosper, now it was nothing but uncomfortable because you’d do all the talking while he looked at you as if his biggest desire was to carve your heart out with his pocket knife. 

While you understood that he was still mad at Marlee and wanted nothing to do with her, you didn’t understand why he was treating you that way when you had nothing to do with it and weren’t to blame for the stupid shit his ex had tried to pull. You thought he knew that you loved him far too much to ever do anything to jeopardize his safety. Yet again, he might’ve assumed the same thing about Marlee.

You walked out of yet another unsuccessful meeting with Damiano and slammed the door as hard as you could to let him know how much his childish behavior annoyed you. Ethan was standing close to the door and you could see the shadow of a smile that was threatening to break out and illuminate his face, “Don’t you dare,” He raised his hands in defense and bit his lip to try and hide the smile that would just annoy you further.

“You two are starting to act like two teenagers and it’s fucking pathetic,” Thomas chimed in from where he was sitting on one of the couches.

“Yeah? Tell that to your friend who is giving me the silent treatment like a fucking toddler! I just want- I need to have a serious conversation with him,” You admitted and sighed as you fell on the couch right next to Thomas, head in your hands to try and cover up the tears that were threatening to spill down your cheeks.

Both men stayed silent as they watched you, Even though you could feel their stares, you decided to focus on not crying instead. The truth was, the longer Damiano spent ignoring you, the more you regretted telling him what you had been bottling up for years, it had been a mistake there was no coming back from. Unless he decided to stop acting like a kindergartener, things would never go back to the way they were.

It was frustrating to think that your friendship would go to shit just because of your confession. Being rejected by him wouldn’t have been a big deal if he had actually stayed in your room and spoken like the adult he was.

“For the record, I think he’s acting like an idiot because he’s scared,” Sighed Victoria, who had just walked into the room with an ice pack placed over her hand, “I know it’s been a while but, give him time. He’ll come around or I’ll make him, I promise.”

You gave Victoria a tight-lipped smile and nodded. You hoped more than anything that it wouldn’t have to come to getting locked up in the same room as Damiano to get him to speak to you.

Except… as more days passed, you feared it would most likely have to be that way because he was still saying nothing to you. He had only spoken once and it had been to call you out for being doing everything wrong while looking through some important documents when you were, in fact, doing everything just like he had initially requested. Now, not only had he been giving you the cold shoulder, but he had started acting like a complete jerk around you too.

You tried to distract yourself by focusing on all the work you had pending, but it wasn’t working. Every single day, no matter what you were doing, your mind still wandered back to the brown-eyed man and his stupid face, his stupid hair, and stupid smile.

Even as you stood in the middle of the kitchen, your thoughts made it difficult to bake the cookies you had been craving all week. You had started to work on the second batch after the first one came out disgustingly salty because somewhere along the process you had mistaken the salt for the sugar.  

You hated how bothered you were by the whole situation. It had affected you way more than you would’ve liked to admit. Truth be told, you had never felt sad about his rejection because it was something you had expected ever since that attraction for him first settled on your brain. It was the way he was treating you that got on your nerves. 

That was mainly the reason why you were so thankful for being alone in the house at that very moment. Apart from a few security guards here and there, you were completely alone. You allowed yourself to relax for a split second and connected your phone to the speaker system in the kitchen. You started playing one of your favorite playlists before getting back to making cookies the right way this time.

You softly swayed your body along to the music as you dumped all the ingredients on the large bowl in front of you. As you poured the flour in the bowl and mixed it with your hands, you noticed Damiano standing by the door. For some unknown reason, he scared you so bad you accidentally tipped the bowl and made a mess of the counter. 

A frustrated sigh escaped past your lips and you threw your head back, feeling defeated and irritated, “I’m sorry,” Damiano spoke up hesitantly, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You shook your head and wiped your hands on the apron you had tied around your waist, “It’s fine,” You turned around so your back was to him and started wiping the counter with a damp towel. 

“You deserve so much better…” You heard him speak up over the music. His words caught you by surprise. You turned around to look at him but said nothing. You could tell he was nervous by the way his hands trembled by his sides and the way his jaw was firmly clenched.

After a few minutes of hesitation, Damiano started walking to where you were. He placed his hands on the counter by your sides, leaving you trapped in between the counter and his body. You looked into his dark eyes to maybe try and guess what was going through his mind. 

You breathed in so deeply your chest hit his. You gulped at that and tried to control your trembling hands without looking away.

“What you said the other day, did you mean it?” Damiano asked, without hesitation this time around. Your eyes widened.

“I-I… What?”

“Just answer me Y/N, please,” Damiano pleaded. He looked so desperate to know the answer, which only made your blood boil. After weeks of silence, of glares and being a jerk, he dared to just show up and demand answers?

You shook your head and pointed your finger at his chest, “How dare you?” You took a step towards him, which made Damiano take a step back, “You have no right to show up like this and ask me to give you answers after how much of an asshole you’ve been.”

He seemed taken aback by your truthful words, but you didn’t care. If he wanted to know how much truth had been behind your words that night, he’d have to hear it all, “You know I’m your best friend and you also know I’d keep up with anything you do because that’s how much I care about you, but can you stop it? I know I was stupid for telling you because of what you just went through and I’m sorry, but please don’t keep giving me the cold shoulder. I just want to fix this.”

After a few minutes of silence, you shrugged and, like it was the simplest thing in the world, spoke up, “And yeah, I meant every word.”

Your expression softened as you waited for any sort of reaction from Damiano. You expected something similar to what had happened the day you first told him. No part of you expected him to cup your face with his warm, calloused palms to bring your face closer to him once again. 

Neither did you expect to feel his soft lips pressed against yours, or the feeling of his soft hair as you brushed it back with your fingers and your eyes slowly closing as you basked on the joy and pleasure his soft touches caused.

Damiano was gentle as he held your face in between his hands, almost as if you were made of glass and he was afraid of breaking you into pieces if he didn’t hold you delicately enough. That kiss felt so intimate, like nothing you had ever felt before. Everything from the way he held you to his slow movements and touches was so much better than you could’ve ever imagined.

When he pulled away, he left you completely breathless, wordless. There was nothing you could possibly say after the way he had kissed you, so you waited for him to find the right words instead.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Damiano mumbled. He still hadn’t let go of your face, “You truly deserve better. You are so beautiful, so perfect. I’m so sorry for being such an idiot and hurting you, ignoring you. I just- I know I cannot love you as you deserve. Believe me, I want nothing more than to have you close to me all the time, to kiss your lips until you grow sick of me, but I can’t,” His voice was starting to crack as he said those words to you and you knew it was because of how he saw your face fall.

“No, no, shut up and listen to me,” You pleaded and placed your hands on top of his. You gave them a soft squeeze and let your forehead rest against his, “I know it’s hard for you to trust after what happened with her and I know it’s not going to be easy, but believe me, I’m willing to try if you are, Damiano.”

“You were that other person,” He confessed and got closer to kiss you once more, with as much passion as the last time. You were too concentrated on the smell of his musky cologne and the faint taste of vanilla chapstick he had surely stolen from your room to respond to his comment.

His hands fell from your face and comfortably rested on your hips as his lips attacked yours. Damiano pushed you against the counter and kept savoring the moment as if it were the first and last time he’d kiss you like that. You hoped for your sake it wouldn’t be the last.

Damiano pulled away reluctantly and unexpectedly lifted you up so you’d sit on the counter. He stood in between your legs and intertwined his fingers with yours.

“Remember when I told you about the person I met the day I met Marlee?” You nodded, “That was you... Ever since I met you I’ve felt this inexplicable attraction towards you and it’s been driving me insane. I couldn’t believe it when you told me you loved me because I’ve done nothing to deserve it.”

“You’ve done so much to deserve it, so so much,” You mumbled and brought him close to you to kiss him for the third time. It was such an addicting feeling and both your heart and mind were screaming to feel it again.

That time around, Damiano didn’t hesitate to lift you up once more, he carried you to his room and locked the door.

— 

It had been a few weeks since your conversation in the kitchen. Things returned back to normal after that night. Other than your relationship with Damiano, things were the same again. You had to go back to working at ungodly hours of the morning thanks to some suspicious activity Ethan had noticed. Apparently, one of the oldest members of Damiano’s mob had tried to establish a deal with an unknown subject but had been caught before he could accomplish it. 

This put you both on edge because there was someone out there desperate to break into the mob and finish it for good. At first, you thought it wasn’t more serious than whatever had happened with Marlee, but Damiano’s father proved you wrong the moment he brought you, their most loyal employee, in for questioning. 

It had been nothing too serious, at least not in comparison to what you had heard others say. In your case, it had been done mostly as a standardized protocol, to stop others from thinking there was some sort of preference or special treatment towards you just because you worked so close to Damiano. You knew almost everything Damiano did, so you were possibly the greatest source of information outside the David family and their small circle of friends.

“Amore?” Damiano asked softly as his hand caressed the exposed skin of your waist. You had been cuddling in bed for almost two hours with the excuse that you needed a break after all the hard work you’d done, “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

You turned around to be face to face with him and pressed a kiss to his freckled nose, “Not much. I was just remembering I need to get my ring resized again. I tried putting it on a few days ago and it didn’t fit anymore.

Damiano frowned at your words, “Your soulmate ring?”

“Mhm,” You responded simply and let your head rest on his chest. You enjoyed the feeling of warmth his body irradiated, it was soothing and the soft sound of his rhythmic heartbeat never failed to make you feel calmer.

“Soulmate rings don’t need to be resized, ever. Not that I know of, at least,” Now it was your turn to frown because, as far as you remembered, you had always gone to get your ring resized by a family friend who didn’t live too far away. No one had ever told you it wasn’t necessary.

You pulled away from his embrace and reached for the bedside table where you had been keeping the ring for the past few days. Once you turned back around, Damiano looked confused and almost scared, “Just, out of curiosity, tesoro. Have you ever taken off the ring and left it like far away for longer than a few hours?”

A giggle escaped past your lips at his silly question, “It’s just a piece of jewelry, Dami. Of course, I have, several times.”

You laughed nervously once you saw his horrified expression. Damiano was starting to scare you, but you knew better than to say something because you’d end up looking like a fool if he started laughing and told you it was all a joke. Except, it didn’t seem like one.

“Please get dressed and meet me in room five, okay? I might be going insane but I just need to make sure I’m not,” Before you could ask any questions, Damiano had already grabbed a pair of pants and a t-shirt and disappeared into the bathroom to get dressed.

You tried not to think much about his weird questions and got dressed quickly instead. You grabbed your cup of tea, which had already gone cold, and walked to meeting room five.

You opened the door and were surprised to see all your friends already sitting around the small table you’d use for informal meetings. Thomas and Victoria looked tired and Ethan’s long hair was tangled and messy. That gave you the impression that Damiano had most likely woken them all up for your impromptu meeting. 

They all looked just as confused as you felt. There were a lot of questions you wanted to ask, but Ethan beat you to it, “Okay, now that we’re all here can you fucking explain why you had to wake me up? Please.”

“Have any of you three—,” Started Damiano, referring to Thomas, Victoria and Ethan, “—tried to take off your ring for a while but have started feeling sick and weird?”

Thomas and Victoria looked at each other, confused, but nodded. Ethan did after a few seconds of thinking about it, “Yeah, there was actually this one time I went on a date and I didn’t want the girl to see the ring had turned gold, so I left it at home. Thirty minutes later I was puking everywhere. I didn’t really understand why but someone at the Soulmate Centre explained rings are an extension of the soul and they need to be close to us at all times and there are actually records of people dying after losing their rings. Why?”

Damiano looked at you and raised his eyebrows to silently ask if he could share the information with the other three guys. Once you nodded, Damiano spoke up, “Y/N doesn’t need to have it close to them and they need to get it resized every once in a while.”

Ethan shrugged his shoulders, “That’s as far as my knowledge goes. I don’t know. I think the best thing you can do is go to the SC.”

You sighed but nodded. Ethan’s explanation had started to freak you out. What if there was something terribly wrong with you? What if you were born without a ring and your parents lied to you all your life?

— 

After having a short conversation with Damiano in private, you decided to follow Ethan’s advice and go to the Soulmate Centre that was only a few minutes away from your house. He wanted to go with you or send someone to watch over you but had accepted your petition to go alone after you told him it was a private matter and you'd tell him all about it once you got back.

So there you were, on the reception of the SC, with your sweaty hands intertwined together as you tried to ignore all the dirty looks people were giving you. Everyone around knew exactly who you were and most weren't one bit pleased to see you there. While some didn't hesitate to look at you like they wanted to kill you, others were afraid to do so.

Those few minutes that passed until the lady at the desk called your name were some of the most uncomfortable of your life. Some part of you hated having the mobster title because that usually gave people the wrong idea and drove them to hate you even if you could proudly say you had done nothing illegal or violent in your whole life. You had to admit the mob wasn’t an ideal job to have morally wise, but you had found a family inside those four walls others doomed to be cursed.

You walked up to the lady. She had what you could interpret as a nervous smile as she stood behind the desk, patiently waiting for you to tell her what had brought you there in the first place. You were hesitant to communicate your issue because you were mortified of finding out a truth that should probably stay hidden.

You reached back and unclasped the chain the ring was looped through. You left it on the counter and smiled softly as you shyly spoke, “So uh, good morning, ma’am. I was hoping you could take a look at my ring, I’m slightly concerned there was something wrong with it.��

The lady nodded and removed the ring from the chain. She inspected it closely for a few minutes before nodding her head towards one of the rooms that said ‘only employees allowed’. She started walking towards it with a quick step and you saw no other choice but to follow right behind her.

She opened the door and quickly closed it with a lock once she verified you were inside, “Listen, the only reason I’m not turning you over to the authorities is because you don’t strike me as someone stupid enough to walk into an SC with a soulmate ring like this.”

Your jaw dropped in surprise at how direct she was being. For a second, you noticed her face fall before she realized it was best to keep a face that communicated seriousness instead of begging for your forgiveness or whatever people did when they pissed Damiano off.

“I don’t know who gave this to you or in which illegal market you bought this but if a higher authority sees you with this, not even Damiano David could save you from the consequences of sporting a fake ring,” She said. You honestly didn’t know how to respond because panic had started to drown out any coherent thought that tried to form on your mind.

You didn’t even try to disguise your panicked expression that time around. Instead, you focused on regulating your breathing and trying to keep all your emotions at bay before you lost control and began to hyperventilate. The other woman noticed your distress almost immediately and led you to sit down on one of the couches.

After you took a few deep breaths, you looked back at her, eager to ask thousands of questions, “How can you know they are fake?”

She sat down next to you and put the ring on your palm, “Look at the inside,” She demanded while pointing her finger to a spot on the inside edge of the ring, “They usually have something engraved inside, a code that only repeats itself twice. Whenever one loses their soulmate, this code vanishes. Your code is still there. I also used a detector to confirm my suspicions and it detected nothing.”

“And with… with that code, can you tell me if my soulmate’s still alive? Or who they are?” The older lady looked at you with pity in her green eyes and shook her head.

“Unless this is the original code engraved on the real ring, there’s not much I can do for you other than telling you how your soulmate is. I need so much more information to ever give you a name,” You nodded in understanding. All you needed to know was if they were alive, that’s all you wanted.

She took your nod as a sign of approval and disappeared into another room. While you waited, you couldn’t help but secretly hope they were dead. You wanted all those weeks of bliss you had spent with Damiano to last a lifetime. He knew everything about you, from the number of scars scattered around your body to what book you had read the most times. No soulmate could learn that about you until years after meeting each other. Besides, it wouldn’t feel right. The Gods had already been too cruel for not making him your soulmate, but now that he wasn’t with Marlee and you knew he loved you just as much as you loved him… 

She walked out of the room and cleared her throat to catch your attention. You were thankful for her interruption because you were mere seconds away from bursting into tears of distress. She looked nervous to tell you what she had found out, but the way you looked at her made her spill the truth without any warning.

“Your soulmate is still somewhere out there, alive.”

— 

Damiano clutched his side with his hands as every type of curse word spilled from his mouth, “Thomas! Dammit Thomas, where the fuck are you?” He screamed and pushed the ache in his throat and side to the back of his mind as he limped towards the table where his loaded gun was placed, ready to be grabbed and shot. 

Things had been perfectly fine just ten minutes back. He had been drinking and playing pool with the boys in the basement. They were all laughing and messing around when Victoria heard the first gunshot. Thomas had been quick to dismiss it as one of the guards practicing his accuracy like they did every once in a while, so they went back to playing the game.

Then they heard it again and again and again. In that time it took the four men to walk up the stairs, people had already successfully broken into the house and they were shooting at anything that moved. The blood-red snake symbol all these people had on the masks that were covering their faces was one he had grown far too familiar with. These were the people Marlee had been conspiring with and they had managed to overthrow every single line of defense in between them and the front door.

Damiano had been in his room fetching a gun when a smoke bomb was thrown into the room. It had stopped him from seeing the person who shot him. Thankfully enough, their vision wasn’t much better either, because the bullet only grazed his side. It was still painful as hell and blood was pouring out of the wound, but it wasn’t going to be anything deadly. 

He finally got ahold of his gun after minutes of feeling around the table to try and spot it with the low amount of vision he still had. Once Damiano had it in his hands, he raised the scarf he was wearing to cover the lower part of his face to try and lower the quantity of smoke he inhaled.

He walked out of his room and into the hallway, still holding the gun firmly ready to shoot it at the first person he saw with that red symbol. Damiano opened the door to every room on the third floor. He had to shoot at one or two people before walking down to the floor below. The first room he opened was yours. His eyes went wide as he remembered you were still supposed to be at the SC. Damiano cursed under his breath. He needed to warn you not to come back but to go to your parents’ instead. Damiano opened the tracking app first, a precaution he had been insistent on taking just to make sure you both knew the other was safe. 

“Fucking hell,” Damiano mumbled as he saw that blue dot with your name above it was right on the same spot as his. You were back home.

Every thought of investigating each and every room to make sure there was no intruder flew out the window and instead he focused on trying to find you. Everything had turned chaotic on those few minutes he had been in your room, which was why it had gotten harder to get around without finding someone waiting on almost every corner for him to appear.

Damiano heard a piercing scream that made his blood go cold. You were in danger somewhere inside the large home and he desperately needed to get to you, to make sure you were safe from any danger. He knew his friends would be perfectly fine, they had their guns and several types of weaponry close-by, but he knew you didn’t. You always refused to take a gun or dagger with you whenever you went out and if they had caught you right when you had just gotten back… you’d most likely have nothing to defend yourself with.

There was no doubt in his mind that you were witty and incredibly smart, not to mention agile and great at coming up with plans on the spot, but he still needed to make sure you were alright. 

He got down on the first floor and his eyes met with a pair of blue ones he knew far too well. He let his eyes trail down to her carmine-tinted shirt. Marlee smiled at him and trailed her thumb along her jawline. That’s when he noticed her hands were also red and she had also left a trail of bloody footsteps from his office to where she was standing. His office.

Damiano didn’t hesitate to point the gun at her leg and pull the trigger. He then aimed for her other leg and shot it. She fell to the floor as an agonizing scream fell from her parted lips. Damiano was satisfied now that her stupid smile had been wiped right off her face.

He quickly ran to the office and opened the door. What he saw inside made time stop. It made all those sounds go silent. It made him feel like there was no floor beneath him to stand on. You were lying on the floor, a dagger piercing your chest.

You looked panicked, sad, like you wanted to do nothing but scream and cry, which you had started doing the moment you saw Damiano walked into the room. He didn’t know if your reaction was out of relief or if there was something else that concerned you, apart from the obvious.

“Damiano,” You spoke up weakly, The sound of your raspy voice was like a slap back into reality. He didn’t waste a second to fall to his knees right by your side. Damiano cupped your face with his trembling hands and brushed your cheek with his thumb.

“Shh. I’m here amore, I’m here,” He responded voice barely above a whisper, “I just need to find something to press against this wound I— something…” He stood up, ready to look for a rag, bandages, anything to stop the blood from rushing out of your body so quickly, but you stopped him.

You wrapped your hand around his arm and with all the strength you had brought him back down, “No hey, stop,” You mumbled, “Unless she happened to study every major artery, vein or has awfully perfect aim, I’ll be dead in minutes.”

He shook his head and wiped the tears that were starting to fall with the back of his hand. He was not giving up. Damiano was not going to let you die, “Wait, no, no. I can do this,” Damiano took his sweater and scarf off. With the help of his scarf, he applied pressure to the wound, careful not to move or dig the dagger further with his movements.

You shook your head and Damiano couldn’t help but cry harder at the desperation and panic in your eyes, “Please, Dami. Stop it, there’s no use. I-I just want you to hold me, please.”

He wiped his runny nose with the back of his hand and nodded repeatedly as he careful cradled you in his arms and moved your head to rest on his lap, “Everything’s going to be okay,” Damiano mumbled and left a long kiss on your forehead, then another one on your cheek and a last one on your lips.

You cupped his face with one of your hands and wiped the tears with your thumb. There wasn’t much left to say, not like you’d be able to talk even if you tried. Instead, you offered him one last sincere smile with all the energy you had left. 

He watched in horror as life slowly started to drain out of you as his ring simultaneously turned black. Damiano sat there for minutes after you were gone. He cried and let every frustration, confusion, and pain escape his body with a loud scream.

Damiano didn’t let go of your body until Victoria and Thomas had to forcefully pull him away and let someone else take care of you.

— 

Ethan didn’t walk into the room until he made sure every single intruder had been killed, except for Marlee, because Damiano had asked to keep her alive. When he did walk in, all he saw was Damiano with a folder in his hand and multiple pieces of paper scattered around the desk in his room. He looked pale, mortified by everything he was reading. The long-haired man didn’t understand what had gotten his friend in such a state of shock until he walked closer and looked at what seemed to be a contract.

You were Damiano’s soulmate. All your lives you had been tricked into believing you weren’t meant for each other. Your parents had made you believe you had no soulmate and Damiano had been fooled into thinking Marlee was his. You had gotten right to the bottom of it all and the secret would’ve gone to the grave with you if you hadn’t left the papers lying on his desk and if he had left his ring on the pocket of his jeans like he usually would. But now it was far too late to do anything about it.

#damiano david x reader #damiano david x y/n #damiano david x you #damiano david fanfiction #maneskin x reader #maneskin fanfiction

[dollslayer]

In the Dark

Bucky Barnes x Vampire!Reader 

Summary: Lonely and bored in your afterlife, or lack thereof, you go home with an unsuspecting stranger, or so you thought.

W/C: 2,906

Warnings: Blood, gore, smut, swearing, breeding kink. 

A/N: I wrote this for @buckyownsmylife ‘s 2k challenge (Congrats and happy very late birthday!! and congrats on 3k too!! 💖). Wanted an alternate take on the breeding kink and wanted a good plot twist and this is what came out lol. If you like it pls reblog and/or let me know!!! P.s. - You can check out some of my other fics if you liked this one! Cheers!

Main Masterlist

Every night was the same for you. The evenings melding together as you tried to keep yourself entertained. No one tells you how boring eternity will be. You expect the loneliness and the challenges of secrecy but no one tells you at some point all things lose their interest. Who’s ever heard of a vampire with depression?

The only thing you had was your almost nightly routine of holding court in your favorite bar. You’d go home with the lucky patron of your choosing, take them to bed, turn them into a snack, glamour them and move on. You had to laugh, 200 years later and you’re still sustaining yourself on the validation of men. Of course, you were able to turn the tables a bit now, having mastered an aura of aloofness and sex appeal. 

So that’s how you find yourself in your usual booth on an unusually quiet Thursday night. You always order a dirty martini but you never drink it. The bartenders know you never drink it but you tip well so they mind their own business. The lights were low and the music was good. The night was young.

A man had approached you earlier but he looked so young and so nervous you weren’t entirely sure you could call him a man. You weren’t even sure if he was 21. He managed to stammer out an offer to buy you a drink but you just smiled and held up your full martini. He immediately turned red and apologized. You had no intentions of taking him home but at the very least you wanted him to have a good night and not overthink himself. So you humoured him and talked for a bit, kissed him on the cheek and sauntered back over to the bar. 

It was nearing midnight when you considered going home, tonight didn’t seem to be proving successful. With a sigh you reached for your wallet when the corner of your eye caught someone moving into the seat next to you. 

“Give me two fingers of Buffalo Trace. Neat. And you can add her drink to my tab.” A confident voice ordered.

You bent to put your wallet back in your purse and when you turned your gaze you let it travel slowly back up to the face that could match such a voice. Strong, thick thighs encased in black jeans, a red henley with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows revealed equally muscled arms and large hands. You could see his pecks through his shirt and felt a smile forming on your face. 

Finally letting yourself take in his face you came upon a chiseled jaw with a 5 o'clock shadow, full lips you longed to kiss and bite, and finally, shocking blue eyes that looked like a Summer storm. You could feel the desire building in you by the second.

You held eye contact and held out your hand. You smirked and gave him your name. 

“James, but you can call me Bucky, if you want.” He said as his warm hand enveloped yours. “Tell me what a beautiful woman like you is doing in a place like this all by her lonesome”.

“Maybe no one here is up to par. Maybe I was just waiting for someone like you to show up.” You countered playfully. 

He smirked in turn. “Well then it’s your lucky night” he said. You turned your bar stool towards him and crossed one leg in front of the other giving him a slight peek of your thighs up your skirt.

You leaned your elbow on the bar and brought yourself closer to him. “So tell me about yourself. You always come into bars this late at night looking for women?” 

“Only if they’re you.” He let out a small laugh. “In all seriousness though, I’m new to the area, moved here for work. Guess I felt a little lonely in a new place and decided to take a walk. Ended up here.”

Your brows pinched a little. You could relate to the loneliness so you felt for him. “Well then maybe you are in the right place.” 

You two talked for maybe an hour, getting physically closer and at one point his hand was on your arm and yours rested just above his knee. The scent of his cologne drew you in closer.

James pulled away to signal for the bartender. As he cashed out you felt disappointment. Was he cutting the night short? If you moved quickly you could probably still go home with him. 

He slapped one hand on the bar as he stood up. You stood too and he put his hand on your lower back, leading you towards the door. Just as you reached the threshold he stopped and faced you.

“So, my place is just around the corner. Care to join me?”

You bit your lip and nodded. You usually prefer to bring them back to yours, never having to chance getting home before sunrise or worrying about being invited in. You felt some connection to him though, two lonely souls looking for company. But also, he was so good looking. 

“Lead the way”.

__________________________

Bucky led you down the steps to his basement apartment and unlocked the door. He opened the door for you but didn’t say anything.

“You’re not gonna invite me in? Some host you are, Bucky.” You quirked your brow and put on a playful smile. 

“Oh forgive me, where are my manners? Won’t you please come in?” he motioned to the door with a flourish, keeping up the joke.

You giggled and nodded as you went in before him. “Much better. I hope your manners in the bedroom are better than that”

He was suddenly behind you, removing your coat he leaned down to whisper in your ear, “Well there’s only one way to find out”. 

He grabbed you by the shoulders and spun you around to pull you into an overpowering kiss. His lips were every bit as soft as you thought they’d be. One hand traveling down your back to rest on your ass and the other came to the back of your head as his mouth was wandering to your neck. 

You let out a moan and threw your head back so he could have better access. Normally you like to be the one in control but this was proving to be an unusual night so you said ‘fuck it’. You let your fingers weave through his hair and latched onto it. You brought his ear closer so he could hear you through your breathy moans. 

“Take me to bed”, you demanded. He brought his forehead to yours and nodded. 

He grabbed you by the hand and led you down the hall. He opened the door and ushered you in while you got a head start on the buttons of your shirt. He snaked his hands underneath your tight skirt to briefly grab your ass before sliding them back out to find the zipper. Down to your underwear he took a step back to take you in completely.

“Fuckin’ gorgeous, doll” He breathed. 

You went for the button on his jeans as he peeled off his shirt. You unzipped him and pulled the jeans down with some resistance from his ass and his muscled thighs. He stepped out of the fabric that pooled around his ankles and stalked towards you. He brought his hands to your waist and felt your smooth skin and brought you into another searing kiss while you walked backwards until your knees hit the bed.

You fell onto the mattress and he fell on top of you and peppered kisses from your face down to your collarbone. His hands were so warm against your cool skin as he moved to rub your clit through your panties. You were squirming in his arms and panting out little mewls. You could feel your panties getting absolutely ruined.

You bucked your hips up to his hands and snagged your fingers in his hair again, giving it a sharp tug of need. He broke your kiss with a chuckle. 

“Don’t you worry, doll. Just wanted to see you sweat.” He said. 

He leaned back on his haunches and motioned for you to lift your hips. He peeled your panties off of you and took a moment to relish in the mess you had made just for him. 

“This all for me? I’m flattered, but I think you can do better than that, sweetheart”, he told you. 

With no warning two fingers glided right into your aching pussy. You sucked in a sharp breath followed by a deep moan as he started moving. You were grinding against his hand and getting a little frustrated as you could almost approach the start of your climax but just his hands weren’t enough. 

“Something wrong, doll?” He asked playfully. He knew damn well what you wanted. 

You huffed. “Eat me out. Please I can’t take it” You whined. Since when did you get so needy with a guy? Since when did you want someone to like you so much? He’s human and he’s a snack he doesn’t even matter.

“Well how could I say no to that?” he asked before he kissed one of your hips. Without any further preamble he latched his mouth onto your clit and sucked. He ate like a starved man, taking you in completely and licking up all your juices while still working you with his hand. 

You were getting louder and more needy in your moans as you came closer to the edge. The grip on his hair got tighter as you guided him in the right place. 

“Fuck. Don’t stop. I’m cumming don’t stop, please please please” You begged as you pushed his face further into your pussy. 

He crooked his fingers just slightly and it was enough to send you over the edge. Intense release triggered that instinctual response in you that brought out your fangs. 

You had to calm down right the fuck now. You still wanted to fuck him before you fed. No human has made you feel this way since you yourself were a human. You pushed his face deeper in still so that he wouldn’t see the change in you. 

A few moments later you’d calmed down enough to retract them and you were pulling him back up to kiss you again. You tasted yourself and you moaned at the hotness of it all. You needed him inside of you. Now.

He kept his mouth on yours as he reached over to his bedside drawer to find a condom but you pulled away from the kiss with a heaving breath. “I’m clean and I’m on the pill,” Not necessarily true but true enough, “please, I just want to feel you. Want you to fuck me full of your cum” you pleaded.

He growled and pulled another moan out of you as he kissed you again and reached to undo the clasp of your bra. He reached down to take off his boxers while he played with your nipples. You looked down and nearly gasped at the size of him. No one you ever brought home had been hung like him. Seeing all the veins sticking out of his hard cock only made you hungrier. 

Suppressing your appetite you reached for him and moved to get him underneath you when he stopped your movements. 

“I wanna be on top, wanna see you writhing underneath me, wanna see your face when I make you cum again, doll.” He said, pushing you back down. He lined up between your folds and eased his way in. 

He sighed as he pushed all the way to your cervix in a slow yet forceful push. He shuddered. “Fuck, doll. Can’t wait to fucking fill you up, make you mine. I wanna see my cum leaking out of you and push it back in. Gonna fuck you so fucking good.” He pulled almost all the way out and slammed back in, eliciting a yelp from you. “So good.”

His pace was slow at first, letting you adjust to him while he adjusted to you. He had been just as wanting as you, when he initially pushed in you could feel his cock twitch and pulse inside you. He wanted this just as bad as you did. 

“Just fucking fuck me already, please” you asked in between moans. 

“You asked for it, doll. Hold on tight.” That was the only warning he gave before he started railing into you at a brutal pace. You were moaning and yelling loudly while he focused all his energy on fucking you as he took in the look on your face. 

The sounds filling the room were a mix of skin slapping against skin, grunts, moans, and groans. The air was sticky with sweat and sex as he reached down to play with your clit. This guy knows what he’s doing. 

“I can’t hold back much longer, doll. Give me what I want. Wanna cum together. Wanna cum all inside your perfect pussy.” He panted out. 

He worked your clit harder, hit your cervix harder, kissed you harder. You let out a cry as you came, triggered his own orgasm. He fucked you through both of your climaxes and you felt his cock empty his cum inside of you. A few final thrusts and his body collapsed onto yours. Cum dripping out of your cunt and onto the mattress.

You were so aroused, no one you took home had done you like this. You still needed him. Your fangs came out with a hiss and you went for the jugular. Bucky grabbed something off the side table so quickly and took it in his hand. With the other he caught your hands above your head and brought down whatever it is that he had been holding onto them. 

You were screaming, your skin was burning, smoking. This was a pain so unique that it brought you into shock. It was a pain you knew. Silver. What are you? Immediate panic waved through you as you tried to kick out from under him, only digging the metal further into your wrists.

You were fucked, you were panicked, and for the first time in maybe a century you were scared. 

“What the fuck?!” You roared as you used all the strength you had to push against him. With a grunt he pulled out of you to get a better angle to hold you down. In that moment of weakness you managed to fling your body weight forward enough to get the metal off of you. 

You felt wild, angry, betrayed. You were about to lunge for him again when he pulled a silver dagger and brought it to your throat. It touched you just barely enough that you could feel the singe. You hissed, trying to stay as still as possible so you wouldn’t burn yourself further. 

“Who the FUCK are you?! What the fuck do you want!?” You were seething with rage. No one gets the drop on you. No one. Bucky may have the upper hand now but he will pay in blood. All of it. 

“I know what you are. I know what you’ve been doing. I belong to a very special group of individuals interested in eradicating your kind.” He said as he pushed the blade further into your neck. 

“So it wasn’t a total lie when I said I moved here for work.” He chuckled at the statement, like you were supposed to be in on the joke too. Go along with him as if he wasn’t about to kill you. 

“What do you want with me? If you know what I’ve been doing you know that I don’t kill my victims. I glamour them and send them on their way. We both win.” You tried to reason.

“I think you could be useful, doll. You’ve already proven you’re definitely good for at least one thing. Look at you, my cum leakin’ out of your pussy like it was made for it”, he said. He sat up a little bit, easing the dagger off of you just a bit. 

“You see, I think you got connections, doll. I think you can help me get to the group of vampires responsible for all the killings in the next city over.” His words were registering with you as you looked around the room for an exit. Sounds like Loki. Maybe Thor but I doubt it.

“And before you go thinkin’ about cutting loose, all my doorknobs are coated in silver and so are all the bars on the window. Perks of living in a basement apartment? I’ve got barred windows and no one lives in the unit above me. No one will hear you scream. No one will come for you.”

You were so utterly fucked in this moment. Maybe you could glamour your way out of this. If you could get him to meet your eye. 

“Go ahead and try anything on me, doll. I’m prepared for any of it. If you can’t give me the information I want then maybe you could give me something else I want.” He pumped his eyebrows as he took in your naked form. 

That was the first and last time you ever got vulnerable with a human. Yup, you were fucked. For now.

#bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky barnes #Vampire!AU #Bucky barnes x vampire!reader #marvel fic #marvel AU #bucky barnes fic

[jediken0bi]

At The End Of The Day

Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary:

Reid is scared his Job is eventually going to take away the thing he loves the most. You.

word count: 2023

-

Spencer sat on the counter in the kitchen, sipping on his sugary coffee and watching you move around the room. You decided you wanted homemade Waffles this morning and Spencer made the quick decision to not even attempt to lend a helping hand. He usually ends up burning half of the food anyway so you're not complaining.

And if you're being honest you liked being able to do something nice for him while he relaxes. It's not like that's something you get to see all that often.

You really only get to have Spencer to yourself on the Weekends and even then your time together isn't always guaranteed.

That's something you guys struggled with a lot. He even more so than you now that you think about it. He is so quick to beat himself up over not being able to spend more time with you and it breaks your heart.

Of course you would like to see your boyfriend more often but you know how much he loves his Job and you would never ask him to quit or hold his crazy schedule against him.

After all, it's not Spencers fault serial killers don't take the weekends off.

You throw little glances at Spencer every time you add a little bit of batter into the Waffle Maker and each time you find him already looking at you with loving eyes and a silly smile plastered on his face.

You can't help but giggle a bit before shaking your head lightly.

There are certainly days where you can't wrap your head around the fact that the genius with the pretty face feels the same affection towards you as you do.

Another minute goes by before he puts his coffee down, pushes himself off the counter and walks over to you to carefully wrap his arms around your waist.

"Someone is awfully cuddly this morning", you say with a huge smile on your face. You lean into his touch so he knows you don't actually mind the closeness.

He still has days where he can't tell whether or not you're making a lighthearted joke or are trying to reject his advances. It took him a long time to be able to initiate physical contact without you having to make the first move or ask for it.

That's not because he didn't love you though. He simply didn't know what to do in a relationship.

He was trying to figure out the do's and don't's and you were more than happy to help him learn and understand what it means to be truly loved by someone.

Nowadays he doesn't hesitate to seek comfort in your arms and there's nothing you can think of that makes you happier than that.

All you ever wanted was for Spencer to feel at home with you.

He put his head on your shoulder and smiled into the crease of your neck

"I can't help it. I haven't seen you in 8 days, 5 hours and 24 minutes and now that i'm here i don't wanna waste a single second of it"

You silently put the last Waffle on the plate you set out and turned your head so you could face him.

You try to catch his eyes and as soon as you do, you press a light peck onto his pink lips.

"I missed you so much", you say while he softly grabs your waist to turn you around positioning you so that you're facing him.

He presses gentle kisses to your forehead, your nose, your cheek and suddenly stops right before your lips.

"I missed you too, my love"

Before you can form an answer he plants a firm and loving kiss on your lips making you forget about breakfast for a second.

But only for a second.

You start smiling into the kiss and lightly push him away. The distance between you two only big enough to let you catch your breath before you laugh and say

"Let's go eat. We haven't had breakfast together in a bit and i wanna cuddle on the couch and watch some Doctor Who"

He laughs and nods his head so his short curls fall into his face.

You bite your lip to suppress a grin before tucking the lose strand of hair behind his ear.

He reaches behind you to grab the plate and makes his way towards the couch you two picked out just over a month ago.

You follow him immediately, feeling giddy that you get to cuddle your boyfriend for the first time in days.

He puts the plate down, plops down on the couch and immediately opens his arms to invite you to get comfortable in them.

While you snuggle into his chest he grabs the remote and starts queuing Doctor Who Episodes for you guys to watch and analyze together.

You wrap your arms around his torso and bury your head into his neck. You sigh happily and plant tiny kisses on his shoulder and neck.

He tightens one of his arms around you and starts playing with your hair

-time skip-

Almost three hours later, the waffles long gone, you get up to get some drinks for the two of you.

As the credits to the third episode start rolling you can't help but notice that Spencer had gotten unusually quite.

You sit down next to him, put a hand on his arm and ask with a calm voice

"Baby what's wrong? You got so quiet and it looks like something's bothering you. Did something happen at work? Did the case end bad? Whatever it is Spencer i want to be there for you"

He looks at you with wide eyes. Almost like a kid with his hand stuck in the cookie jar. He looks guilty and it's making you nervous. You know you can't push him but you would be lying if you said you weren't worried.

He looks down for a second unsure of his next move. He takes a deep breath and hesitantly turns around to look at you.

Your hand immediately finding its place on your boyfriends jaw. Running your thumb over his stubble in a calming matter.

He leans into your touch and closes his eyes for a second.

You knew that he would eventually start talking so you had no problem patiently waiting for him to summon the courage to say whatever was on his mind.

"I was talking to Morgan the other day and he said something that got me thinking. Actually, i think it's fair to say that thinking turned into overthinking really quick. Although i don't know anymore. At this point, it might be a completely valid fear and i'm just trying to convince myself it's not. Of course you could apply that logic the other way around as well but - I'm rambling, aren't it", he says in pretty much one breath.

You show him a understanding smile and say,

"Yeah but it's okay. I want to hear what's on your mind. No matter how confusing"

He looks up at me and smiles with sad eyes

"I know you do and that's why the thought of ever losing you drives me completely insane"

You stare at him for a moment not understanding why he would be thinking of losing you before taking his hand into yours and asking

"Spence, do you want to tell me what you and Morgan talked about?"

He sighs loudly and runs his thumb over the back of your hand.

Looking straight at you he decides 'Now or Never'.

"He just broke up with his girlfriend and we were all trying to be there for him. He seemed completely fine but you never know with Morgan so i went to talk to him about the break up and he just smiled at me and said 'It is what it is, Pretty Boy. Relationships are doomed to break in our line of profession. Enjoy it while it lasts' "

he tells you doing a weird impression of Derek.

Under different circumstances you would've laughed.

You look at Spencer with a small smile on your face. He looks so distressed, you can't help but run your hand through his curls and climb into his lap.

He doesn't waste a second wrapping his arms around you to secure your position and before he can question you, you say

"So that's what this is about? You thinking i might leave you because of your Job?"

He shakes his head slightly and looks up to meet your eyes

"No this is about you deserving a boyfriend who doesn't spend 90% of his time a couple of states away from you every week. It's about me not wanting to make you feel like you come second when there's nothing that's more important to me than you. I would quit my Job if you asked me to. There's plenty of Jobs out there but no one quite like you. I hate to think that you might come to resent me for being away so much"

You run your hand through his curls again and smile softly. It's your turn to shake your head.

"What i deserve is a boyfriend who loves me for who i am. Someone who cares about my feelings and thoughts. Someone who doesn't mind binge watching Doctor Who with me on the weekends because i like that way better than going out. Someone who reads my favorite book so we can have a conversation about it. Someone who shows me how much he cares every single day. And i already have all that. I don't need anything or anyone else. I promise."

Spencers eyes are shut tightly and he leans his forehead on yours. He presses a light kiss to your nose and wistfully admits

"I'm just so scared my Job is going to take you away one day"

You wrap your arms around his neck and whisper

"I know a thing or two about that. Baby, you do so much good in the World. I couldn't be more proud if i tried. Let me ask you something. You like your Job, right? Despite everything it asks of you?"

He nods softly and opens his eyes

"I love my Job. Helping people gives me a chance to make a real change. It's what i've always wanted to do."

You smile at him and hum in agreement

"That's right. And you love me too, right?", you ask cheekily

He looks at you like you hung the moon, grabs your hand to press a soft kiss against it and says

"Of course i do. More than anything"

You once again nod in agreement.

"Then you have to understand that the World isn't always 'This or That'. I would never ask you to quit your job for me. I wouldn't want that. I love you too much to take away the thing that fulfills you and makes you happy. Relationships take work, Spencer. I'm not saying it won't be rough sometimes but at the end of the day you're my Clark Kent to the BAU's Superman and i wouldn't change a thing"

He looks at you with loving eyes that are glazed over with unshed tears and whispers

"I'm going to marry you one day, i promise. I'm going to spend the rest of my life showing you that you're loved beyond compare"

He starts covering your face in kisses resulting in you laughing at his antics.

This wasn't the first time you two talked about marriage. You knew that he was the man you were going to walk down the aisle to. There wasn't a doubt in your mind.

You push him back down on the couch so you can lay down on his chest and say

"Now that we've established that you looove me, i think it's time for you to start the next episode. It's my favorite!"

You said it in a mocking voice but it genuinely did make your heart beat faster and he knew that.

"Damn straight i do", he says as he reaches for the remote.

Weekends with Spencer are simply the best.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds imagines #reader insert

[silhouetteofacedar]

Fox Mulder, Closet Romantic Ch. 5: Dana's Work Friend

Previous Chapter - AO3 - MSR, rated E

Friday, April 3rd, 1998. Scully comes into the office in a flurry of coat and red hair. She doesn’t greet him, just drops her briefcase on the desk and sinks into her seat across from him.

“Mulder, I have a favor to ask of you, and you’re probably going to hate it, so just bear in mind that I have exhausted all my other options,” she says, somewhat breathless.

“You’re really selling it,” he deadpans. “What is it?” he asks, settling into his chair and leaning his elbows on the desk.

“You remember Mark,” she prompts, and he nods. Ugh. If only he could forget.

“Well, it turns out that Mark is extremely - almost agonizingly - social, despite having a demanding job and a young child to raise.”

“Sounds awful,” Mulder comments.

“Hence my current predicament. He’s invited me and my friends out for drinks tonight, so his friends can meet me and I can meet his and he can meet mine… “ she rambles before refocusing herself. “He’s not aware that I’ve lost contact with most of my friends. You’re kind of the only one left.”

Mulder had suspected as much, but confirmation of her increasing social isolation is like a punch in the throat. “Are you sure there’s no one else?” he asks softly, not wanting to rub salt into any wounds.

She shakes her head, lips pressed together. “Unless the Lone Gunmen count as my friends,” she replies. “Which in this case is somehow worse than having none at all,” she muses, some humor in her voice.

“Good point,” he chuckles. “Sure, count me in.”

“Thank you,” she says sincerely, and he melts all over again. He’d do anything for her. Even if it means meeting Mark. Ugh.

“It’s worth mentioning,” Mulder says after a moment, “If you don’t want to go, you can always just not go.”

“Shockingly, I have thought of that,” she says dryly, opening her briefcase and pulling out a folder. “But I think it would be good for me to meet people and hold conversations that aren’t related to criminal or paranormal activity. Might be good for you, too,” she adds, glancing up at him.

He pulls a stack of files out of his inbox on the desk. “I’ll stick to ‘ghosties and ghoulies and long-leggedy beasties and things that go bump in the night’,” he says.

“‘Good Lord, deliver us',” Scully replies, finishing the old prayer.

Mulder looks up at her and finds her smiling at him, and his whole body flushes with heat and adoration.

“Let’s elope,” he says, and she rolls her eyes fondly before burying her nose in her work.

I’m not kidding, he yells inside the prison of his own thick skull.

After work he and Scully drive straight to the bar together, a yuppie place in Foggy Bottom near George Washington University Hospital.

“Have you ever been through their ER?” Scully asks, scanning the street for parking. “I imagine you’ve been through enough hospitals to warrant a map on the wall with little pins stuck in it.”

“I can’t possibly remember them all at this point,” he says absently, tugging at his seatbelt uncomfortably. Why is he nervous? He’s just here to show Scully’s man friend that she’s not entirely a basement-dwelling hermit.

And Mulder’s the best she could do? God, maybe she really does need to get out more.

She parks, and he feeds the meter while she touches up her lipstick in the rearview mirror. She looks sweet and and rosy, flushed with nerves and traffic, and he could so easily scoop her up and kiss her-

“Alright,” she says, climbing out of the car and closing the driver’s side door a little harder than necessary. She smooths her hair down. “I’m ready for battle.”

“I’m prepared to fall on my sword,” he assures her, guiding her onto the sidewalk with a hand on her lower back before realizing he probably shouldn’t touch her so familiarly when her… friend might see.

“It’ll be fine,” she says over her shoulder as she grasps the bar door’s handle. “Just behave,” she hisses, and they enter.

The onslaught is immediate.

“Dana!” a voice calls out through the bustling bar, and Mulder sees a man waving them over. He’s got neatly styled dishwater blond hair, broad shoulders, and dimples at the corners of his mouth as he smiles at them. Not bad, Mulder thinks, unsure of how to feel about this new information.

He barely has time to process it before they’re enveloped in a tight swarm of strangers. The blond man, presumably Mark, loops an arm around Scully’s shoulders and gives her a side-hug.

“So glad you could make it, Dana,” he says, and proceeds to go around the circle of people and rattle off names Mulder has no reason to remember. Instead, he watches Scully, the way she greets each person as they’re introduced. She’s cool and calm, smiling politely, shaking hands and saying ‘nice to meet you’ to each of the five - no, six - people in the group.

“I’ll grab you two some drinks,” Mark says, glancing at Mulder. “What’s your poison?”

“Shiner,” Mulder says.

“Same for me,” Scully says. “I’m going to freshen up-”

“Sure,” Mark says, giving her shoulders a squeeze. “Two Shiner Bocks coming up.”

That’s how Mulder and this exuberant, Golden Retriever of a man end up sitting at the bar together, nursing sweaty beers and waiting for Scully to return from the bathroom.

“So you’re a work friend of Dana’s?” Mark asks over the noise of the bar.

Mulder was about to set his drink down, but he reconsiders and takes another swig. “In a manner of speaking,” he replies.

Dr. Mark Whatever-the-fuck seems confused. “I don’t follow,” he says.

“I’m her partner,” Mulder says flatly. Since 1993. I’ve seen her naked, cradled her injured body my arms, saved her goddamn life. Have you?

“Oh!” Mark says, clearly making mental connections. “Oh. Sorry, I just- it’s nice to meet you… Fox?”

“Just Mulder’s fine,” he corrects him.

Mark laughs. “Sorry for the confusion on my end; I think Dana only said your name once and I went and assumed Fox Mulder was a woman. And you know what they say about assuming,” he adds with a nudge.

Once. Only once? Maybe that shouldn’t surprise him, but it does. Whenever he meets someone new in Scully’s life they always throw out the usual ‘I’ve heard a lot about you’ line, so he knows she talks about him to others. But not to this guy. Why not to this guy?

Mercifully, Scully returns from the restroom. Mark hands her her beer. “Thanks,” she says softly, giving him a small smile with her lips closed tightly, which strikes Mulder as odd. He knows she’s somewhat self-conscious about smiling with her teeth, but something he sees in her face doesn’t feel quite right.

Of course it doesn’t feel right to you, he thinks. She’s smiling at some other guy.

They’re swept along in a current of conversation, scrambled introductions, and drink orders. He’s introduced to a handful of people he’ll selectively erase from his eidetic memory, standing across from Scully in their little circle instead of by her side. He doesn’t like it. Another man has his hand on her back, although respectfully keeping it between her shoulder blades. Any lower and Mulder would have to excuse himself to have a panic attack in the alley behind the bar. Or throw up.

He’s glad Mark’s friends aren’t particularly interested in making conversation with him; he’s tired and ready to go home. Luckily, the Doctor himself calls the night early, at half-past eight.

“I promised the little one I’d be home to tuck her in,” he explains, and Mulder’s stomach turns from the purity and sweetness of it. “She gets to stay up a little later on Fridays.” He gives Scully another half of a hug and says his goodbyes.

The group disperses pretty quickly after Mark leaves, and Mulder and Scully are left alone outside the bar.

“So, you met Mark,” Scully says simply.

“I did, yeah.” He can sense that she wants him to say something more. “He seems... nice,” Mulder adds.

Scully nods. “Yeah, he’s nice.”

Mulder’s beginning to think ‘nice’ is the only word anyone’s capable of using to describe this guy.

“I’ll bet Bill’s gonna love him,” he comments, hoping he doesn’t sound as bitter as he feels.

Scully shakes her head, smiling. “I knew there had to be a flaw in him somewhere,” she jokes.

Mulder surprises himself with a huffed laugh. This moment with her is strangely precious, despite the circumstances. He doesn’t know how many moments like this he has left, if he’s being honest.

“I’m happy for you,” he says tenderly, and maybe if he says it enough it’ll be true. She deserves this, he reminds himself. It’s become almost a mantra, a lead weight that keeps him from drifting away.

“Are you?” she asks, catching him off guard. “I caught you staring holes into him more than once.”

“I wasn’t,” Mulder says defensively. “This is just my face.”

She gives him a look that clearly says ‘I call bullshit’, and he folds. “He didn’t know who I was,” he says, and it sounds monumentally stupid out loud. “He though Fox Mulder was a woman.”

“I-I don’t know why he would have thought that,” Scully says, pensive. “I never implied-”

“Fox is an unusual name,” Mulder interrupts. “It’s an honest mistake if you just hear it without any context.”

Scully looks down at her feet. “I’m sorry about that,” she says softly. “About all of this. I owe you one.”

Mulder reaches out and squeezes her shoulder, and it seems to have a grounding effect on both of them. “I’ll put it on your tab,” he says.

“Do you want me to drive you back to work?” she asks. They’d left his car in the garage at the Hoover building.

Mulder shakes his head. “You’re almost home,” he says. “I’ll get a cab.”

He ends up walking instead.

The night air cleanses his senses as he makes the half-hour trek back to the Bureau. Their time in the bar had felt sluggish and hazy, despite the fact that he only had a beer and a half. He spend the entire evening focused on Scully, the only sharp image amidst the blur of patrons.

Mark hadn’t kissed Scully goodbye, and Mulder’s relief at not having to witness it was overshadowed by a morbid curiosity. She and Mark had been dating for three weeks; he’s not sure how often they’ve actually gone out, due to the doctor’s shift schedule, but he assumes they’ve seen each other a few times at mass in addition to whatever outings they’ve gone on in the evenings. That was ample time to get to know each other physically on some level, wasn’t it? A peck on the cheek at least.

Mulder’s biased; he’s touch-starved and in love with her. He spends most of his nights on his couch in the dark, touching himself and thinking about Scully. Kissing her, taking her clothes off, tasting her; his mental catalogue of scenarios is robust and well-used. If given half the chance to love her…

Maybe that’s it, he thinks somberly, stepping over sidewalk cracks. Maybe chances are taken, not given.

That’s not how he wants to love her. He wants her to choose him all on her own, and yet he never let her know he was a choice. And now there’s Mark.

But Mark doesn’t kiss her.

#my fic #msr #txf fic #xfiles #fox mulder closet romantic #FMCR #in which mark and Mulder meet #oof #the pain

[mintymiknow]

Trust Fall - Ch. 5 | Lee Minho

summary | character profiles | masterlist

Pairing: Lee Minho/Lee Know x Reader

Summary: Chan and Changbin encourage Minho to continue to continue building your trust...or your relationship. And as another task dawns near, your heart yearns to give in; only if your mind would let you.

Genre: Secret agent/spy au, romance, angst, action

Word count: Approx. 6.1k

Warnings for this chapter: None

A/N: Perhaps we’ll have more moments here? Who knows? Maybe you’ll need to read through it first hehe~ Anyway, this is a rather calm chapter that I wrote for the sake of character development and building relationships. Still, I hope you enjoy reading. As usual, don’t hesitate to send an ask if you have any questions or comments!

The unusual tension in his body refused to leave him. Well, “unusual” wasn’t the best term since it was normal for his muscles to tense up especially after missions.

But right now, Minho was antsy - the male couldn’t sit still, nerves in his body buzzing with an unexplainable adrenaline. Maybe he needed to let off some steam. The previous interrogation was a bit vexing on his part, and if Chan didn’t hold him back, he probably would have disfigured the target’s face.

After getting whatever information they needed from the target, Chan handled putting him in the detainment center where he could be captured and locked up. Changbin went to the labs, and Minho, surprisingly, decided to go to his room. He usually spent more time in the main building instead of the living quarters, but this was a rare occasion.

He was filled with tension after that, and he was still filled with it after waking up.

As he relentlessly punched the punching bag that hung on one of the areas of the training center, sweat dripped from his bangs and trailed between his furrowed eyebrows. His punches were stronger than usual, little grunts escaping his lips.

“Go easy on the bag, man.” Changbin lightly chuckles as finishes sipping from his bottle.

Minho lands one last punch before huffing out, “I am.”

“What’s up?” Chan says, taking a seat on the bench next to Changbin, “You seem preoccupied.”

Minho hums nonchalantly, adjusting the bandages that wrapped around his fists. “It’s nothing.” he replies, readying himself to punch the bag again.

As he starts training again, Changbin looks at Chan with a knowing look, to which the elder responds with a nod and light chuckle. He stands up, going towards Minho and stopping the bag from moving on the other side. He tilts his head to peer at Minho, flashing a small smile, “Come on Min. We know you too well. What’s wrong?”

Changbin sing-songs, “You’re not usually this high-strung. You’ve always been the most chill between us three.”

Minho’s jaw clenches, and Chan knows better to not push Minho when he’s stressed. So, he returns to the bench and pats Changbin’s back as if telling him to pull back as well. With a warm smile, the eldest agent says, “Why don’t we head for the target range? It’s been a while since we went, don’t you think?”

At that, Minho stops punching the bag and turns to face the two, “Fine.”

“You just want to show off your sharpshooting skills.” Changbin raises an eyebrow playfully, and to this, Minho lets his lips curl into a smirk.

The three agents then walk towards the inner part of the training center and enter a particular sound-proof room. There, they put on the necessary equipment and select a gun each from the weapon rack. They press a button on each of their shooting booths, and soon, they each have moving targets bustling about in the range. As expected, Minho manages to hit most if not all right in the middle, displaying his skills indeed.

Chan and Changbin aren't surprised and whistle at their friend, causing him to sheepishly wave his hand in dismissal...and embarrassment.

Chan laughs, getting ready to reload his pistol, “So, now that you’re more in your zone, wanna talk to us?”

“What’s there to talk about, Chan?” Minho inquires, eyes already locked onto his own targets.

While he fires away, Changbin returns his pistol and leans against the metal table, “Ever since the interrogation, you’ve been on edge. Even more so when we asked you about Dr. Song.”

Minho fires his last shot and hits the target on the head before calmly putting the pistol down. He sighs, removing the headgear that protects hit ears. “It’s just…” he trails off, leaning against the table beside Changbin, “Her behavior is just...odd. I can’t place my finger on it, but she’s just...you know. I’m usually good at reading people, you know that. With her, I can’t.”

The eldest agent adds teasingly, “I thought you both were starting to get along...you aren’t the most subtle with those fond gazes, Min.”

The agent in question feels heat rising to his cheeks as he shoots Chan a glare. “I do not have a fond gaze. Is your eyesight bad already?”

Chan laughs heartily, crossing his arms as he leans against the wall perpendicular to them, “Is she still annoying you? Being rude? Difficult? ‘Cause besides us field agents, she seems pretty nice with Jisung and Seungmin. Jeongin tells me she was fairly civil with him the other time.”

Minho shakes his head, “I understand the ‘difficult’ part since we did bring her against her wishes. We should be thankful she even stayed and stays despite what we make her go through. It’s just…”

“You don’t trust her?” Changbin guesses, looking at the older agent earnestly.

Minho nods his head before shaking it. He then just chooses to run his hand through his hair, messing up the already messy strands, “I want to trust her. To get her to trust us, we need to show her that we trust her. And...I really do want that, but it’s just...a part of me is giving warning signals.”

“Warning signals?” Chan tilts his head, “How so?”

“It’s telling me to be careful and wary.” Minho tries, “You know?”

“Why though? Besides her hostility towards you in particular - I don’t know why though - what else is there?” Changbin asks again.

The second eldest agent sighs, his sharp eyes closing as if he was exhausted. “It’s just a hunch. I just feel like...she’s deliberately hiding things from us - things that could be useful.”

Minho's mind then brings to light what he felt in the jacket’s pocket when he consoled you yesterday.

Chan hums, chewing on his lip to curate his thoughts and words. After a moment, he speaks again, “Well, we do have to see it from her perspective. As you said, she’s here against her will. She’s here and working, but she doesn’t necessarily like it. People like that tend to be more aggressive and hostile. It’s like cornering an animal, per se.”

“Yeah, and I can only imagine the turmoil and stress she’s under after what happened in the seaport and interrogation room.” Changbin points out.

“Maybe you can take this as an opportunity to get her to open up, Min.” Chan suggests with an amused smile, “As her ‘partner’, go check on her and see how she’s doing.”

“I’m not a babysitter.” Minho deadpans with narrowed eyes, “Dr. Song is an adult; I don’t think - ”

“Do you not want her to be more trusting, Minho?” Chan smirks, raising his eyebrows.

“Yes, but - ”

“You have to build trust, Minho.” Chan says warmly, “We’re field agents, so we’re better at gauging who to trust and not. Y/n isn’t, and she’s closing herself off because she’s vulnerable. With people like that, you need to be the one to reach out and build that trust for them.”

“Since when were people this tiring?” Minho sighs in mild irritation, running his hand through his hair once more.

Changbin laughs, patting his back, “You got this. You’re the one and only Lee Minho, right? Agent Lee is the best!”

“Gee, thanks Bin.” Minho fakes a smile, but the younger agent is very much aware of the warmth in his eyes.

With that, Minho returns his gun to the rack and playfully salutes at the other two, “See you for dinner then.”

“See ya.” Chan waves with a chuckle.

Changibn salutes back, and when Minho leaves the room, the younger agent smirks, “You think he’s like that because he’s much too worried for y/n?”

“Wouldn’t be surprised.” Chan returns his gun as well, “She’s too much like her.”

“You’d think Minho would be totally distant and uncaring after what happened, huh.” Changbin muses.

The older agent hums, looking up at the ceiling, “Well, Minho did make a shell of his own because of what happened back then. That’s why he has the whole ‘cold’ facade going on. It’s nice to see him genuinely caring for someone other than us. He’s probably the best person to be there for her when she needs it. He did it before.”

“I’ve never seen Minho this puzzled over something...or someone.” Changbin chuckles in amusement before his smile fades into a small frown, “Well, at least besides...yeah.”

Chan nods, a gentle smile on his lips, “He’s learning. For all his skill and intelligence, Minho hates dealing with emotions the most.”

“True.” Changbin nods, “So...sparring training today?”

“Sounds good.”

You’re alone in one of the lab rooms, sitting by a table and reading a folder of random files you found in the lab archives. This particular room was empty, no equipment and items in sight - just a typical lab table, some stools, empty shelves and windows. Your eyes are much too focused on the files for you to have noticed a figure walking into the room.

“Jisung said you’d be here.”

You look up from your position to see Minho leaning against the lab room’s door frame, head slightly tilted to the side to display his nonchalance. You gently nod your head, “Yeah, if you guys need the lab tests from the stuff we brought back, they’re with Seungmin.”

“That’s fine.” Minho responds, “We already had Hyunjin bring it up to Jung.”

“What else can I help you with then?” you say, mirroring Minho’s tone of disinterest.

The agent walks closer until he’s standing beside you. He leans against the table, arms crossed as he fixes his eyes on the white floors. You study his behavior and mannerism, taking into account the way he chews on his lip and blinks his eyes repeatedly.

Almost as if he was nervous.

Was that even possible? Someone like him...nervous? You have to bite back the urge to giggle and smile, so you look away and awkwardly cough. “If you’re here to interrogate me about...that time...then I have nothing to tell you.” you say softly, fiddling with your fingers on the table.

Minho clears his throat similarly, “I...I came here to ask you if you’re alright. I mean, if you’ve been doing alright. Since...that time.”

You feel your cheeks blush with a warm, pink hue; you aren’t sure if it’s embarrassment over your behavior last time or flusteredness over his concern. Nonetheless, you take a deep breath and reply, “I’m sorry, I must have caused a ruckus. I’m...alright, thank you, Agent Lee.”

Minho’s body visibly relaxes as he turns his body to face you better. He places his elbow and arm on the table to lean sideways, tilting his head as he speaks. “I do have to ask though...it’s part of my job.”

Of course.

He continues, “That man seemed to have known you. And I know you said you didn’t know him - ”

You cut him off, eyes staring at the files in front of you, “I don’t know him. This I can promise you. I don’t even know how he knows me or my name.”

“This I can promise you”? Minho thinks to himself, but he puts it in this back of his mind to ask, “Then...Dr. Baek? Does it ring a bell?”

At this, you involuntarily shudder and take a deep breath. “One of the former scientists involved with the incident back then...that’s it.” you say softly.

“Then why does he know you? How?”

“We worked on things together.”

Minho doesn’t push. He stays quiet, now his turn to observe your behavior; he takes in how you refuse to make eye contact with him, shoulders tense as if guarding yourself from him. He senses the agitation in your nerves, a clear form of lying. Still, he doesn’t push and instead releases a sigh.

“You know...if I’m being completely honest with you, it was surprising to see you be more talkative back when we were in the car on the way to Gimpo.” he says.

You face him, raising an eyebrow, “Is that why you had the audacity to smirk at me?”

At this, Minho’s eyes brighten, “Oh, so you caught that?”

“I’m not blind or stupid.” you deadpan, narrowing your eyes, “Of course I did.”

“Well…” Minho trails off, resting his cheek and chin on the palm of his hand, “it’s just that you aren’t very talkative and open to begin with. I was just...pleasantly surprised to see you talking about more personal things.”

“What I did in Gongjak as a doctor is hardly personal, Agent Lee.” you say with a purely confused expression, “It’s a very professional topic, if you ask me.”

The male agent shrugs, a small smile on his lips, “Then tell me about this Dr. Kang. Dr. Choi kept mentioning him and about how he looked up to you.”

“Dr. Kang is just a doctor, like I said.” you nearly stutter, “Why would you need to know anything about him?”

“Maybe he can actually give us information about certain things? Who knows?” Minho shrugs.

You narrow your eyes again, “I’m not convinced, Agent Lee. I’m sure you have connections who can do that for you.”

“Hmm. Perceptive.” Minho smirks, “I just wanted to see your reaction when his name is mentioned. When Jisung asked, you seemed pretty flustered.”

“I was not.” your eyes widen, “And why would you do that?”

“To get a feel on what you’re like as a person? To get to know you?”

“You don’t get to know someone like that…” you mutter.

Minho shrugs, “Maybe. But you aren’t exactly willing to let us - let me - get to know you, y/n. Maybe teasing you like this will help you warm up. You’re still closing yourself off.”

“I…” you look away, sighing, “...sorry. It’s just not easy for me.”

“But I promised you, right? That you’ll be ok as long as I’m with you.”

“That’s what they always say, Agent Lee. Lying and deception comes easy for agents like you.” you say in a soft voice, “It’s part of your job, right?”

You remembered all the times Chan, Minho and Changbin came up with lies and excuses while on the field operation with them. Sure, they had to do it for the sake of the mission, but whatever they called it - it was still a lie. And you hated the fact that they got what they needed and wanted with lies.

“Agents and organizations like SKZ are built on trust, y/n.” Minho says calmly, his gaze piercing and strong, “Given that we ‘lie’ when needed, the trust we have with each other is stronger.”

“I can’t say that for myself, Agent Lee.” you look at him tiredly, “I had no one to trust back then.”

“Did you not have Seungmin and Jisung?”

“They weren’t there when - ” you stop yourself, looking away from the man.

Minho takes a step closer, bringing a finger to your chin to make you look at him. His voice is low and almost raspy as he whispers, “Weren’t there when what, y/n? What about the past are you so hesitant to share?”

Your lip trembles in the slightest, and if Minho wasn’t this close to you, he would have missed it. “You can’t trust anyone but yourself.” you breathe out in a whisper, “That’s all I have to say about it.”

Minho knows you aren’t going to say anything, so he takes Chan’s advice and approaches you carefully. He drops the matter at once, pulling his fingers away from your chin. Instead, he offers a small smile and stretches his hand out, “Fine, but will it kill you to put a little trust in us? Or at least in me?”

You stare at his hand and swallow hard. After a moment of deliberation, you take his hand; the male gives yours a gentle squeeze, and you end up looking directly into his eyes. At this moment, the mysterious haze that clouds his eyes somehow disappears. A thin sheet of mysteriousness still swirls within, but it’s a tad bit clearer, and you see a small speck of stars.

Minho can see the ice slowly breaking away in your own eyes. It’s far from being gone, but there’s a small crack he knows will eventually spread out if he played his cards right - if he, in Chan’s words, built the trust himself.

Despite being dull and cold at the moment, he knows your eyes have a dazzling warmth and color to them.

Just like -

He doesn’t realize that he’s staring - peering - into your eyes so deeply until you tilt your head and ask, “What?”

Minho snaps out of his daze, blinking twice before letting go of your hand and shaking his head with a small smile, “Nothing.”

You chew on your lip a bit awkwardly, slowly turning your attention back to the files you were reading. Minho clears his throat, gaze back to being fixed on the white floor. There’s a thick tension in the atmosphere, but it isn’t all bad. It’s just awkward.

Awkward but light as if the universe was saying “there’s potential”.

As if you were in highschool as two teenagers innocently but awkwardly skirting around each other before realizing one was right there all along.

Thankfully, you’re saved from the atmosphere when you both hear a light knock on the wall. You both turn to the source, only to see a smiling agent waving at you. “Hey guys, Jisung said you were here.” he says.

Minho offers a small smile, looking at the said agent with a fond gaze; it kind of makes you melt. Kind of. “Hey Jeongin. What’s wrong?” the older agent asks.

Jeongin shakes his head softly, “Nothing drastic. Just here to tell you that Jung has another operation for you. Technically it’s you, me, Chan and Hyunjin on this one, but Jung is asking if Dr. Song would like to come.” the younger male then chuckles, turning to you, “Dr. Song, if you’re interested to hear Jung out, you can come with us to the briefing session.”

You look to Minho who merely gives you a small smile. You then sigh, nodding at Jeongin, “Ok.”

“Cool.” Jeongin smiles, “Be at the briefing room in 15 minutes.”

With that, he waves at you and Minho before turning on his heel to leave. Once he’s gone, Minho turns to look at you, an eyebrow raised, “What a surprise. You’re interested?”

You half-pout-half-glare at the male, huffing out a deep breath, “Don’t get used to it. I just need to know as much as I can to get this job over and done with.”

“Alright.” the agent chuckles, gesturing towards the door, “Let’s go.”

You and Minho enter the meeting together, and Hyunjin and Jeongin are already inside, seated on the chairs. Jeongin waves warmly while Hyunjin flashes a bright smile. “Nice to see you again, y/n.” he bows his head.

You bow as well, offering a small smile, “Hyunjin.”

“Why are you calling Hyunjin by his first name and not me?” Minho grumbles playfully as he pulls a chair out for you, “Hyunjin of all people.”

You take a seat and look up at him, tilting your head, “Because you’re the agent assigned to me, so I felt like addressing you with ‘Agent Lee’ was more appropriate.”

Minho looks at you un-amusedly as he takes a seat next to you. You look at him with a mischievous glint in your eyes, “Calling you ‘Minho’ is still a bit too personal.”

Hyunjin laughs, eyes wrinkling at the sides as he does so, “Well, Agent Lee, looks like you need to work on that.”

“Ah...Hyunjin.” Minho sarcastically smiles at the other agent, and they both erupt into sarcastic yet amusing laughter.

Jeongin watches, smile wide and bright as he mutters under his breath, “Not again…”

As the two continue to bicker with each other, the door opens and Chan and Jung walk in. Hyunjin and Minho stop arguing in an instant, bowing their heads in greeting. Chan smiles and takes a seat next to you while Jung acknowledges everyone with a wave of his hand; he takes a seat at the end of the table.

“Ah, y/n.” Jung smiles lightly, “Good to see you.”

You only nod, unconsciously leaning towards the side where Minho was seated. The male agent rubs your back, the touch gentle but fleeting; there one second, gone in the next. The head then clears his throat and speaks immediately, “This operation requires you to head to Gangnam. There’s an underground district there, but as per our intel gathered, it’s covered up by a luxurious facade.”

“Undercover mission?” Hyunjin asks, and you don’t miss the sparkle in his eyes.

Jung nods his head, “The previous scout team tells us that there’s going to be a gala of sorts tomorrow in this particular ‘underground hotel’. Keep in mind that it’s a luxury hotel on the outside, but a lot of...things happen in the underground aspect of it. Be careful. Now, the gala is supposed to be for some socialites celebrating the hotel’s founding anniversary, but intel tells us that some Cle members will be there. We don’t know yet for what purpose or reason, but it’s your mission to find out everything you can. Maybe get some data and evidence.”

The agents nod in unison, but Jung notices that you’re silent; he even takes note of your body language - the fact that you’re somehow leaning towards Minho, and the fact that Minho rubs your back one more time.

“Dr. Song,” Jung starts, “I wanted you to hear this because you’re free to join them, but you can also stay behind here if you wish. The only reason why I’m permitting you to go with them is because you might recognize some familiar faces - doctors, scientists, esteemed people, etc. - while there. But again, you don’t need to go with them.”

You ponder for a moment, running all sorts of scenarios and pros and cons in your brain. You briefly glance at Minho before turning to Jung, subtly nodding your head, “I’ll go with them.”

You can see Jeongin smiling widely, Hyunjin making little claps, and Chan mouthing “huh? What did you do to her?” to Minho, to which the latter responds with a surprised expression. Jung smiles warmly, nodding his head as he looks to each person in the room, “Very well. Rest assured, y/n, you are in good hands.”

The man then dismisses the meeting and excuses himself for other matters with the authorities. When he’s gone, Chan rests his elbows on the table and chuckles, “Wow, y/n. I didn’t think you’d want to come after the previous time. I’m glad you’re coming though.”

You clear your throat, avoiding their gazes, “As I told Agent Lee, I’m doing this to hasten the progress of finding a solution so I can get it over and done with.”

Hyunjin leans back on his chair and smiles, “Well, doesn’t matter as long as we get the job done! Y/n, you can count on us.”

Jeongin laughs, tilting his head endearingly, “Don’t mind him, he’s just excited to be able to do a mission where he dresses fancily.”

Chan laughs, “Speaking of which...since this is happening in a hotel, Jung had Felix arrange for accommodations. Everything will be ready for us there, including the attire. I’ll double-check to make sure they have something for you too, y/n.”

You nod and a few seconds later, Chan tells everyone to get ready to leave for tomorrow - rest and up train and do whatever to prepare. With that, everyone leaves the room and goes their separate ways.

Sometime within the day - specifically in the afternoon - you return from the lab and enter your room in the living quarters. As soon as you step in, your eyes land on your bed and the black jacket laying on it - Minho’s jacket.

You forgot to return it to the male the other day, having brought it back to your room; you’re surprised he hasn’t asked for it. With a sigh, you take the jacket and resort to return it, thus heading back to the elevators.

You don’t feel like calling Minho on his phone yet, so you end up asking the other agents for his whereabouts. “In times like this before operations, he’s either in his room or in the training facility” Felix says when you bump into him in the main building’s lobby. He then offered to take you there, and when you both arrived, the freckled male smiled and wished you luck as he made his way.

You navigated the training center nervously, making it a point to ignore all the training rooms and training agents. You check the target range where, as Felix says, is Minho’s favorite, but the agent is nowhere to be seen. Instead, you see Changbin. You lightly tap his back, and when he turns around he offers a small smile. “Chan or Minho?” he asks, “Or maybe Jisung?”

“Huh?” you tilt your head.

“Who are you looking for?”

“Oh, Minho.”

Changbin chuckles, “Over there by the gym area.”

You thank the male agent before heading over to the gym-like area. As Changbin said, Minho is there, having just finished one of his workouts. He runs his hand through his sweaty hair, gulping water from his bottle. He turns his head to your direction just as you walk closer, jacket carefully bundled in your arms. The agent tilts his head, and once you’re standing a few steps away from him, you hand him his jacket.

“I forgot to return it the other day.” you say, avoiding his gaze. There was something about the way his sweaty strands of hair clung to his forehead, sweat dripping down the perfect slope of his nose.

Minho offers a small, thankful smile nonetheless, taking the jacket from you, “Thanks.”

He then puts the jacket on a nearby bench and crosses his arms. He speaks with a playful tone despite the neutral expression on his face, “So, now that you’re here, do you want to learn how to defend yourself?”

He sees the panic flash across your eyes and lets out a light chuckle, “I’m just kidding.”

“I’d rather not do anything physical, thank you.” you deadpan.

“What about the shooting range?”

“I said no.”

“Hmmm...martial arts?”

“What about ‘nothing physical’ do you not get?”

“Physical...physical…” Minho pretends to hum innocently, before his eyes twinkle with a not-so-innocent glimmer, lips curling into a teasing smirk, “Physical - ”

You already know what he has to say, and upon realization, your cheeks burn up. You slap his arm, eyes wide as you yell, “Hey! Not that kind of physical!”

Minho laughs the loudest you’ve heard him since you arrived at SKZ, and if you weren’t so embarrassed, you would have thought it sounded lovely. He brings a hand up to the area you slapped, giving you a small smile, “At least I know you can hit pretty hard.”

“What was that for?” you yell, still flustered.

The agent chuckles, “I don’t have to worry about you defending yourself if things go south.” he then shakes his head, “Though we’ll try our best not to get to that point.”

You scoff in disbelief, cheeks still very much pink and hot. You put your hands on your hips, “You! You really are testing me!”

“And you passed.”

“Agent Lee!”

Minho laughs lightly before gesturing forward, “Anyway, you should have dinner and get your rest. Chan wants us to leave tomorrow morning.

“Whatever.” you mumble, shooting one last death-glare which Minho merely laughs off.

With that, you turn on your heel, almost stomping your way out of the training center. Minho watches your retreating figure, a small smile still splayed on his lips. He notices Changbin approaching, and the younger agent grins, “What’s with the stupid grin?”

Minho shakes his head, fixing his eyes on the jacket you returned, “I’m not sure if I should be amused or unsettled.” he starts with a soft smile that eventually fades into a frown, “She’s so much like her.”

Just as you are about to reach the living quarters, a sudden random yet entertaining idea popped into your mind. You pull your phone out, going to your contacts list. Once you spot the name, your fingers freeze before even getting to tap the call button.

It shouldn’t be a problem, right?

No one ever explicitly said anything about you going out to eat or take breaks right? And technically Minho did tell you to get dinner before resting…

And you did need a little respite after all the stress...

Not wanting to get swayed any further, you tap the call button. The other line rings for a few seconds until someone picks up, a familiar voice responding, “Y/n? Hello?”

“Hey, Hyunbin.” you breathe out, “Are you on duty now?”

“Kinda. I just finished a few rounds and have a short break for dinner.” Hyunbin answers with a chuckle, “Why?”

You shrug, a small smile on your lips, “I was about to go get some dinner for myself. Do you want to...tag along?”

“Sure. It’s been a while.” the male doctor laughs heartily.

“Great. How about the usual cafe near Gongjak?”

“Sounds good.”

And that was how you ended up exiting the headquarters’ compound. Technically, getting out was alright since there were some SKZ members who didn’t live in the living quarters and opted to go to their own homes. Thankfully, none of the security questioned your leaving. However, a certain freckled male notices your figure exiting the gates.

“Oh? Does Minho…”

And so he runs into the main building in search of a certain Lee Minho.

Meanwhile, you’re seated in a cafe with Hyunbin, eating your respective pasta meals for dinner. The male doctor swallows before laughing lightly, “I just heard from the director that you were given an offer to participate in some organization’s research project. Didn’t say much ‘cause it was apparently classified stuff.”

You sigh, offering an apologetic smile, “Yeah...it sort of is. Sorry I didn’t get to say bye and all. The head of the project kind of wanted me in the facility as soon as possible.”

“Well,” Hyunbin smiles it off, “now that you’re here, what’s it like? You don’t need to tell me if it’s really classified. Just tell me if it’s more stressful than what we do in Gongjak!”

You laugh, sipping from your coffee. “Well, it is stressful…”

You trail off when your mind goes to Chan, Felix, Jisung and Seungmin who have been nothing but friendly to you.

To Changbin, Jeongin and Hyunjin who have been welcoming despite you being difficult.

And to Minho who has been mysterious, yes, but also very patient and silently caring.

You sigh, closing your eyes before continuing to speak, “Stressful but you kind of just have to deal with it for the sake of the job.”

“Ah, yeah. Hyunbin grins, “Knowing you though, you’ve got this handled.”

“Ah, I hope so.” you laugh lightly, “I’m going to Gangnam tomorrow for more research purposes. I don’t think we’ve needed to travel to other cities when doing research in Gongjak.”

“At least you get to sight-see.” the male jokes.

“I mean...that is true.” you laugh, “I just prefer staying in. You know me. I hated the monthly parties the director hosted for us doctors and researchers.”

“Ah...all the throwing up from their drinking.” Hyunbin pinches the bridge of his nose, pretending to look distraught.

You smile and laugh softly, “And having to drag them home from the bar...”

After a few more minutes of talking, Hyunbin walks with you for a little more, but you make sure not to let him tag along the entire way just in case. A few meters away from the cafe, you suddenly freeze in your spot, eyes met with another pair of icy, steely ones - very sharp ones in fact.

Hyunbin was talking about a certain senior citizen patient before he noticed you’ve stopped walking, so he stops as well. “Y/n?” he tilts his head.

You gulp, unable to respond to Hyunbin or even move a muscle when the other figure approaches the two of you. Hyunbin also notices the newcomer and goes “oh, your colleague?”

“Minho…” you trail off quietly, wide eyes on the agent.

The way his icy glare is quickly masked by faux warmth sends chills down your spine as he smiles at Hyunbin. “Hi, yeah, I’m y/n’s colleague.” the male agent then turns to you, “I was wondering where you left off.”

You clear your throat and slowly nod, “Yeah, ok, sorry. Let’s...let’s go.”

Minho sends another sweet smile towards Hyunbin and says a quick “nice meeting you” before placing his hand on your back and ushering you to walk away. Hyunbin still has his eyes on you two.

After you and Minho are a few feet away, the male agent hisses, eyes narrowed sharply, “Who gave you permission to leave HQ?”

“Don’t tell me I’m supposed to be locked in there like a prisoner.” you snarl back with a glare.

“Then you should have at least told me.”

“For goodness sake, Minho. I’m an adult. I don’t need to tell you everything I’m doing, do I?”

Minho grabs your upper arm, tugging it so that he can turn your around to face him. He’s a bit closer than usual.

“Under the circumstance that you’re working with us, yes you do.” his voice starts to raise, “I hate to break it to you, but we can’t have people running in and out of HQ as they please. Plus, we can’t risk you accidentally talking about what we’re doing in there.”

“If you want me to trust you, can’t you trust me on this?” you scoff, “What makes you think I’m going to blab about it?”

You would probably laugh at yourself for saying that. If only Minho knew that you took one of the samples from the lab the other day when you returned from the black market and seaport.

No way he’d trust you if he found out.

Minho laughs, his voice a strand of hair away from shouting, “Stop being so stupid, y/n. You know you’re involved with something top-secret. Don’t go meeting people behind my back. Not even with your little boyfriend.”

You grit your teeth, eyes wide with anger, “He’s not my boyfriend.”

Before Minho can respond, Hyunbin is by your side, his eyebrows furrowed in concern, “Hey, I heard shouting. Are you ok?”

You look at Minho’s now-calm expression before smiling at Hyunbin, “Yeah, don’t worry. We were just...joking around.”

Wow. Lying came easy to you now too.

Hyunbin smiles lightly, eyes trailing to where Minho was holding your arm. At that, the agent raises an eyebrow in challenge, and it prompts Hyunbin to back down. “Alright, see you around then, y/n.” the male doctor then wishes you a good evening before turning on his heel and walking away.

Minho then clears his throat, letting go of your arm as he mutters for you to follow him. You do, not wanting to anger the agent any further. As the two of you walk back to his car, a thick silence envelopes you two. Even inside the car, the tension is suffocating.

When he stops at a red light, he finally breaks the silence. “I’m sorry.” he says abruptly, “I didn’t mean to call you stupid. That was out of line.”

You carefully glance at him, noticing how flushed his cheeks were. It softens your heart a bit, and you choose to look out the window. “It’s ok. I probably deserved that.” you admit.

Minho hums before replying, “You didn’t, but I need you to understand why we can’t have you going out and meeting people. It’s not about trust - ‘cause I do trust you. It’s about keeping you safe. You might not get why, but - ”

“Minho, it’s fine.” you turn to face him, and though your expression is bland, your eyes are apologetic, “It’s not your fault.”

Minho stares at you, the red light from the traffic light reflecting against his perfect face and painting him in a dark yet soft light. “I’m also sorry about the boyfriend thing. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

You blush, chewing on the inside of your cheek before replying, “That’s ok, I overreacted.”

“Alright.”

“He really isn’t my boyfriend though.”

“And you’re telling me this because…?”

“Nothing. Drive.” you cough, “The light’s green.”

Minho laughs, his lips curling into a genuine smile with you for the first time ever. You look at him warmly before snapping away, leaning your head on the window and shutting your eyes.

Your heart wants to trust him but your mind doesn’t.

And as a scientist and doctor, the mind always prevails.

#stayhavennet #stray kids #lee know #lee know scenario #lee know imagine #minho #minho scenario #minho imagine #skz #stray kids minho scenario #stray kids minho imagine #stray kids minho #lee minho #lee minho scenario #lee minho imagine #lee know x reader #minho x reader #scenario #imagine #spy au #secret agent au #au #spy #secret agent #series: trust fall #s: trust fall

[vaporwrites-archived]

There's Always Room For Another

Minors, this story is not for you. This is a KiriBaku x Transmasculine AFAB Reader. As time goes on, I will add on triggers. This is meant to be a long term fic that will eventually become a lemon. Until then it will stay orange - lime. I will give content warnings at the beginning of every chapter. Please comment if I miss any. There will be sex mentions peppered throughout. This is an act of fiction in which all characters are written to be at least the age of 21 years old. I do not claim any rights to the characters in this story, nor do I intend to. All characters in this story are owned by Kohei Horikoshi.

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Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Chapter 6 is here!

Kirishima made a quick trip to McDonald's and back, picking up as many chicken nuggets as he could, as well as a Bai Big Mac meal and a Bai Egg Cheeseburger for himself, and Bai Spicy Chicken Sandwich meal with another thing of nuggies for bakugo and a few extra orders of fries for a communal fry pile, knowing that communal fries made everything better. Things were great as he carried the food and drinks in, planning on fixing this entire situation. He went to get Katsuki first, "Food's here," he called into the room before going to knock on your door once...twice...three times, "Y/N? Are you in there?" he said, knowing he knocked loud enough to wake you up. When you didn't answer, he started to worry and knocked again, walking back out to the kitchen. "Bakubro, do you know where y/n went?" he asked, and the man looked up, "What? I never heard the door open, what do you mean 'where' they went? They went to their room earlier!" he said, getting a little pissed off and standing up. He walked over to the room, knocking on the door, "Open up, dumbass or I'm coming in!" he shouted, banging on the door which surprised Kiri for some reason. "Bro, calm down, he may be asleep," he said, to which he received a quick, "Or he could be dead, he needs to open this goddamn door," he replied, pulling his wallet out and using an old debit card to unlock the door and shoving it open to find...nothing.

Kirishima looked confused, "Are you absolutely sure you didn't hear anyone come or go," he asked, meanwhile Bakugo began to blow up your phone, stressed and wanting to find out exactly where you went. After all, they had shit to talk about. He next went into your bathroom, making sure you weren't in there either and beginning to pace, "I'm gonna kill that idiot!" He shouted, walking out of the room as sparks began erupting from his palms, clearly and visibly distressed at your absence when they needed to talk about things like yesterday. Kirishima chased after him, turning up around, and activating his quirk before pressing the blonde's palms over his chest, putting his own over his, "Hey come on, calm down, I'm sure they just went out for a walk to clear his head. It happens, just breathe okay? We probably should talk about this too," he said, slowly leading him to the table as his hands shook and anxiety, fear, and anger welled up in his chest. He was not a happy man at this time, stressed and not knowing what he was going to do or say about this. "Okay, so I just wanted a communal nap, then he ended up on top of you, and he ran away. Does he have any trauma in his past?" he asked, beginning to go down the list of reasons one would panic upon waking up in the bed with their roommates who were men. "In general or involving men specifically?" he added, and Katsuki thought about it. He really...didn't know. "I-I don't fucking know, why am I supposed to know that?" He asked, and Kirishima paused. "Okay, it's fine if you don't know everything about him. Um, do you know if you've made him uncomfortable recently?" he asked, grabbing a pen and paper and listing a few reasons why this would be a problem and picking at his fries. He put a question mark next to trauma, knowing you may have never told him. "I mean, not really? We watched a movie and fell asleep, and other than that I've not done anything unusual. He'd say something, right?" he asked, picking at his nuggets and knowing he needed to eat even if he wasn't hungry.

Kiri marked off 'recently made uncomfortable' and looked at the other options. "Is he sick?" he asked, dreading the last one a bit. Katsuki frowned and thought about it, "No, I don't think he's sick," he replied after a moment, starting to get worried. Kiri marked that off the list and paused. "Are you sure he had absolutely no trauma with men?" he asked, and Katsuki growled, "I said I don't know! His house was the safe spot growing up, idiot, he didn't tell me anything and I didn't notice anything otherwise I would have blown his family to pieces!" he said, working on his dinner and getting pissed off. "Why are you focusing on that, there's another thing on the list there, right?" he asked, grabbing for it and snatching it out of his boyfriend's hands as Kiri grimaced. He saw the last option and paused because it read: 'Romantic attraction?' before looking at him. "What the hell is that supposed to mean? We're just friends, shitty hair!" he said, looking confused. "He doesn't like me like that," he added, feeling the need to defend himself before Kiri put his hands up a bit, "Hey, let me explain. So if it's this, it's okay, but you need to listen to me. I'm not saying this is how you feel, I'm saying this may be how he feels. I mean come on, you didn't know that I had a crush on you until the graduation party when I kissed you on accident. Four years is a long time not to know someone has a crush on you, isn't there a possibility you may not notice it from someone else too?" he suggested gently, working on his food and hoping that was the case at this point because he's rather his friend not be traumatized.

Bakugo frowned, dropping the paper, "I guess maybe I wouldn't know what someone else feels about me if they don't tell me. I'm not a mind reader, you know," he grumbled, putting the paper aside and finishing his food. By now, it was around 1am and he was worried sick, but he knew that it was best not to assume so he never had. Kirishima, meanwhile, noted his face, how a flush took it over as he considered the thought and paused. "Well, I mean, he is pretty cute. And we're all really close," he started, and Bakugo's vermillion gaze locked onto his, "What the fuck are you saying man?" he asked, stressed out and about half a second from leaving to clear his head himself. Kiri took a breath, "I'm saying, if you have those feelings for him too, I wouldn't be averse to dating him and you. I can be flexible, and then you two could also date. We'd just all be dating each other, you know?" Kirishima suggested, hoping his boyfriend would be reasonable and consider it. Bakugo was...frustrated and confused, to say the least. What did he mean, if Bakugo liked y/n too, he was raised that a couple was that, two people, and it didn't make sense for him to date more than one, wouldn't that be cheating? These thoughts ran through his head and he buried his face in his hands, shaking and not wanting to confront these emotions at one in the morning.

Kiri gently began rubbing his back, having a feeling the man was overwhelmed and worrying that he may have pushed too far. However, sometimes with his boyfriend, that was necessary. "It's okay if you feel that way for both of us, man. I'm not gonna be hurt or upset. Granted I've never dated anyone like that, but we can try. It's okay." he said, and when he looked closer, he noted the man was crying. That was...rare to say the least, but Kiri wanted to be supportive, "Hey it's okay," he cooed out. Most people would expect him not to be a man who was okay with other men crying, but he felt like it was really manly to be in tune with his emotions and to take care of himself. Men who were afraid to cry were usually insecure and rude, so he swore long ago not to be like that. He pulled him close as his boyfriend cried, needing to let it out finally. It took some time, but eventually, his sobs subsided and he relaxed against his boyfriend, tired and just wanting a solution to this. "So...all three of us date if it's the last option?" Bakugo asked quietly, looking up at him with puffy eyes. Kiri shrugged, "It seems like the best option, just...how to bring it up to him when he gets back..." he said, worried about how he'd handle that.

#kiribaku x reader #bakugo x reader #kirishima x reader #bnha x reader #kiribaku #myworks

[teawaffles]

It Happened One Night: Chapter 5

“——What!?”

Everyone, including Sherlock and John, was taken aback.

“Whose house did you find it at?”

Having attracted the gazes of everyone in the room, the officer who’d just entered looked distinctly uncomfortable. But upon hearing his superior’s question, he coughed to clear his throat, and explained in a businesslike tone.

“We found the painting in the house of a woman named Amy.”

“Amy? Is that true?”

The innkeeper’s daughter, Patti, seemed shocked. That said, as Sherlock and John looked around the room, they realised that although Amy had been in the pub earlier, she was currently nowhere to be seen.

The reason for that immediately became clear. The officer who’d made the report turned to Patti.

“Yes; she said she wanted to return home, so I accompanied her. Then just to be certain, I conducted a simple search of her house, and that’s when I found a painting that matched the description of the stolen item.”

Amidst the commotion stirred up by this new revelation, the officer in charge nodded slightly.

“Well then, where is Miss Amy now?”

“She has remained in her home, under the supervision of another officer.”

“Understood. Get me the details of the situation as soon as you can. I’m glad this case got resolved quicker than I thought.”

At those last words, Patti’s eyes widened in shock.

“What do you mean? You can’t seriously be thinking that Amy is the culprit?”

He responded in a calm voice, as if he was accustomed to such reactions.

“Well, isn’t it a reasonable conclusion? We found the stolen painting in her house. There’s no cause for doubt here.”

“That’s— It can’t be! Amy would never do something like that, and she was talking with me the entire time during the party. She didn’t have time to leave and steal the painting.”

Seeing how Patti desperately defended her friend, the man frowned in confusion.

“In that case, she must’ve had an accomplice. Then they stored the painting in her house for the time being. With that, it all adds up.”

“What do you mean, it ‘adds up’……?”

The officer had tried to wrap up the case with such a careless explanation, and to that, Patti was simply lost for words. Perhaps he had always handled his work this ineptly.

The detective took over and confronted him.

“Now hold on just a minute. All the report says is that the painting was found at her house. From that fact alone, isn’t it unreasonable to conclude that she’s the culprit?”

“Who’re you, anyway? ……Ah, someone mentioned it earlier. So you’re a famous detective or something?”

The officer didn’t seem to be familiar with the name Sherlock Holmes. Not particularly caring to explain his background, Sherlock questioned the conclusion he’d reached.

“This woman, Amy, she agreed to have a police officer accompany her home without any objections. If she knew the painting was in her house, would she really have done such a thing? Also, from how that officer spoke just now, it seems he found the painting the moment he entered her home. You’d think she’d have considered that her house would be searched, and hidden the painting somewhere less conspicuous, don’tcha think? So, what do you say to that?”

Having suddenly been dragged into the conversation, the officer who’d made the report was visibly nervous as he replied.

“That’s…… Well, it’s true that the painting was in the sitting room, right after the entrance.”

“See? It was practically begging you to find it. So it’s highly likely that Amy has been framed — you shouldn’t be making a decision just yet.”

Upon hearing Sherlock’s argument, Patti’s expression brightened up, but it seemed the police had other ideas. The officer in charge spoke on behalf of all of them.

“Mr Holmes. The culprit must surely have been in a hurry. So after stealing the painting, when they went to her house, they had no time to hide it, and decided to leave it in the sitting room for the time being. Then Miss Amy asked to return home, to try and hide the painting properly this time; but because this officer ended up accompanying her, she resigned herself to fate and allowed him into the house. How’s that? Now the explanation fits.”

“Oh, come on……”

There was an obvious indolence behind his words: he was no longer willing to listen. Sherlock had more arguments prepared, but at this rate, they would just be evaded in the same quibbling manner.

In order to persuade the officers, they had no choice but discover the truth of the case as soon as possible.

However, Sherlock had yet to make any progress towards that goal. His mind was working on overdrive — he knew he had to avoid the tragedy of an innocent person being arrested — but nevertheless, they were short on both time and information.

The detective’s expression contorted in anguish, and the officer seemed astonished as he spoke.

“Hey, if this was the city, where everyone rushes about everyday, maybe there’d be some deeper truth to uncover. But this is the countryside: nothing remarkable ever happens here, and everything moves according to simple rules. I don’t know whether it’s because you’re a famous detective, or whatever, but aren’t you making this out to be more complicated than it is?”

“…………”

He looked at Sherlock, who squandered mental effort even on the strength of his counterarguments, then turned to face the entrance of the inn.

“Well then, I’ll have the minimum number of officers necessary remain behind, and the rest shall be withdrawn at once. Thank you for your cooperation.”

With that, most of the officers left the building. The guests who’d remained behind simply stood where they were, stunned by the police’s shoddy work.

“……W-What’ll we do now, Sherlock?” John asked, seized with frustration.

“Argh, I was almost there. Dammit…… They did their jobs way too fast, and in a bad way, mind.”

Sherlock continued to think over the case, even as he laid bare his exasperation at the officers. However, he still didn’t have the full picture: it felt as though he had an idea of which way to go, but not a precise path to get there.

As the fog in his mind refused to clear, precious seconds were ticking away.

“Sherlock……”

Beside him, John clenched his fists, acutely aware of his own powerlessness.

Looking at the two men, the innkeeper muttered in a vexed tone.

“Those officers are usually decent fellows, but…… I didn’t think they’d presume Amy was the culprit based on that kind of reasoning.”

With that kind of reasoning, they had presumed she was the culprit. Just recently, Sherlock had heard a line very similar to that.

——Ah, it’d been from that brother of his.

Mycroft had said those words when he visited their apartment before, immediately prior to the “Scandal of the British Empire” case.

“Sherly tends to presume a bit too much in his reasoning.” [1]

Mycroft had said so in a condescending tone that’d also implied he knew something Sherlock didn’t. Sherlock wanted to complain about it back then, but as he knew for a fact that his brother was more intelligent, he’d had no choice but to accept the criticism.

Presuming too much. Perhaps, in this investigation, he had also presumed something he shouldn’t have. Maybe not something that would’ve overturned the case from its very foundations, but rather, a tiny detail.

In an unusual turn of events, he took his brother’s words to heart without protest. Then, seconds later, something struck him like a flash of lightning.

“What’s wrong, Sherlock?”

The shock from that bolt of inspiration had sent his entire body into shivers, and John was clearly worried. Then, Sherlock gnashed his teeth as he replied without hesitation.

“Hey, John. I admit that the carefree few days we’ve spent here might have dulled my thinking. That’s why I was thrown off by how quickly this case unfolded.”

He suddenly laid blame on himself, and John cocked his head in confusion.

“W-What’s happened, Sherlock? Saying something like that out of the blue…… In the first place, there’s little information to go on this time, so our hands are tied.”

But Sherlock took no heed of that, and spoke forcefully.

“That’s…… That’s why— Listen, this time it was my own dullness that slowed down my reasoning. I'd thought that if I could gather just a little more evidence, then the answer would reveal itself immediately. So it was definitely not my brother’s words that led me to the answer, got it?”

“……Ah.”

John understood.

Although he didn’t know the exact details, he knew that Sherlock had probably solved the case with the help of some advice he’d heard from Mycroft before. Because he didn’t want to admit that, he tried to explain why his deductions had reached a deadlock instead.

At that, John couldn’t help but chuckle, and Sherlock was evidently cross about it. But if he messed around with him too much, he didn’t know what kind of logic he’d employ next.

He asked about their next move.

“Well then, what should I do?”

At that question, Sherlock also switched up his thinking.

“First, pick someone we can trust in this inn. I’ll give further instructions then.”

“Got it.”

Then Sherlock whispered into John’s ear the name of someone he was certain was involved in the case. With that, the two men promptly headed out.

Footnotes:

[1] Mycroft said this in Chapter 17 of the manga (“A Scandal in the British Empire, Act 1”). I chose to translate the line anew for the purposes of this story.

#moriarty the patriot #yuukoku no moriarty #yuumori #english translation #forbidden games

[beatricethecat2]

"This is nice," Myka says, sipping her beer while surveying the bar.

"Consuming alcohol in a public house?" Helena asks.

"Yeah," Myka says, eyes angling down as she picks at her label. "Working with Pete...this wasn't a thing I could do much. Then Steve and I had a drink here, and I remembered what it was like. I used to go on my own in DC just to unwind. Feels like a lifetime ago."

“In many ways it was," Helena says, idly stiring the ice left in her drink. "Could you ever have imagined the company you now keep?"

"I don't think so," Myka says, shifting closer to Helena. "But I like it, a lot. Doing this with you feels...normal. Two people, spending time together, not a care in the world."

"You care for nought?" Helena says, fingers tracing a line from Myka's thumb to her wrist where her hand rests on her thigh.

"Ok, one care," Myka says, eyes flicking up to meet Helena's. "Hey, I know that look. We said we'd stay for the band tonight, not just hole up in our room."

"Is there not another band tomorrow?"

"Yeah, but we said we'd stay for this one." Myka slips her hand from Helena's.

"As you wish," Helena says, settling back on her stool, frustration evident in her tone.

"More drinks, ladies?" the bartender says. "The band's about to start."

"I shall need one," Helena grouses.

"Stop being dramatic," Myka snips.

"Fine," Helena snaps. "Bourbon. Neat. Top shelf, please," she instructs the bartender.

"Comin' right up." The bartender steps away to complete the order.

"Oh, we're getting drunk now, are we?" Myka quips.

"When in Rome..."

"I'd actually like to see that, a drunk H.G. Wells," Myka says, poking Helena in the arm.

Helena flinches. "You may very well if you keep behaving as such."

"Seriously though, when's the last time you drank enough to let your guard down, even a little."

"In the company of others? Not in recent memory. And you?"

"Same."

"Here you go," the bartender interrupts, setting the tumbler on a napkin in front of Helena. "Another beer?" she asks Myka.

"You know what? I'll have the same." Myka waves her bottle at Helena's drink.

"Cavalier, Ms. Bering."

"We'll keep each other in check. We deserve to get super tipsy, at least."

"Color me intrigued."

The band strikes its first cord just as Myka's drink arrives. She tugs Helena's arm, and they relocate to a table near the stage.

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

The Adventures of Bering and Wells ("Warehouse 13" Season 5 replacement) Season 1: Episode 4 Title: New Orleans: Laissez les bon temps rouler!

Summary: Myka and Helena follow whim rather than duty, driving south, detouring around Washington DC, avoiding a second emotional rabbit hole so early on. After a wi-fi-free week in a cabin, deep in the Blue Ridge Mountains, they feel ready to tackle urban density again. ("The Rockies are better," Myka declares. "We'll go there, too.) Vowing to stay as touristy as possible, the pair head towards history-filled New Orleans. But far too soon their carefree trip hits a snag and they're in need of Warehouse help.

Previously: Episode 1, Episode 2, Episode 3

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

***BONUS SCENE***

"Exactly how touristy have you been?" Abigail asks.

"Pretty touristy," Myka answers.

"Practically flâneurs," Helena says, grinning as Myka looks up at her with sparkly eyes.

"Well, that narrows it down," Steve mutters, typing into the keyboard. "Let's start with your hotel. Why'd you pick the carriage house?"

"The lack of adjoining suite and the king-sized bed."

"Helena!" Myka smacks Helena on the arm. "Because it's cute and charming."

"So this ghost isn't listed on their website? Wedding dress woman, Civil War soldier, dancing patio woman?" Steve asks.

"No. And the manager hadn't recognized the description I gave," Helena explains.

"So not all ghosts," Abigail says.

"If seeing them is normal," Myka says.

"Let's say the ones on their website are but H.G.'s isn't," Steve says.

"Are we to assume I've been 'whammied' then?" Helena says.

"You freeze in place. I have to shake you out of it," Myka explains.

"Perhaps I'm studying the phenomenon."

"You're never that still. It's creepy."

"Then I think we should consider it," Abigail says.

"Where else have you been?" Steve asks.

"Um, everywhere?" Myka answers. "That blacksmith's bar you and I went to. And The Gas and Lights Museum--"

"Such memories. So many details wrong," Helena gibes.

"On a carriage ride--"

"Highway robbery! Sixty-five dollars for a turn around the park. And not in the least authentic."

"You said it was nice!"

"I said it was familiar. The sound of it took me back," Helena says.

"I thought you'd like it." Myka leans back and looks up at Helena questioningly.

"I enjoyed the company quite thoroughly," Helena says, laying her hands on Myka's shoulders and grinning down at her fondly.

"Aww," Steve coos.

"Did anything about the carriage ride scream 'lady ghost will now appear at will?" Abigail asks.

"Not to my knowledge," Helena says.

"We also went to the Pharmacy Museum. And on a steamboat ride," Myka adds.

"Not that I'd have stepped foot on that death trap without proof of modern safety precautions. In my day, they exploded frequently," Helena explains.

"Ok...let's start with the Pharmacy Museum," Abigail says as Steve types. "Could this woman have afforded a doctor?"

"She often appears in her Sunday best, but also in, shall we say...less. She didn't strike me as particularly monied."

"Did she look sort of vampire-ish?" Steve asks. "I'm reading that people with consumption were rumored to be vampires due to how the disease aged them."

"I'm familiar with that premise, and no, this woman was not withering away."

"Could she have died on a steamboat?" Abigail asks.

"She doesn't give off that sense. There's a calm about her. She's not in danger."

"Let's try another angle. The neighborhood you're staying in, Storyville, claims to be the birthplace of jazz," Abigail says, reading over Steve's shoulder. "Maybe she's related to that?"

"Myka took me to hear this 'jazz,' and I can't say I was at all impressed."

"I like it. Steve does, too. You really hated it?" Myka asks.

"The bleat of the saxophone evokes vaudeville for me."

"Play her some Charlie Parker. Or John Coltrane. That might change her mind," Steve suggests.

"Does this relate to our ghost?" Abigail presses.

"I don't see a connection," Helena answers. "Her dress is previous to that of jazz, of an age closer to my own."

"Storyville was once a legal bordello district," Steve explains. "The whole neighborhood was shut down in 1917. So maybe she's from then?"

"That makes sense," Myka says.

"Do you see her inside or outside?" Abigail asks.

"Thus far, outside."

"But," Myka protests, "last night, when we were...t-the blindfold, you said 'just in case.'"

"Did that not heighten our activities?"

"That's not the point. I can't believe you--"

"Punish me later, darling--"

"Why don't you two hash this out, and we'll get back to you," Abigail suggests.

"Wait, is this her?" Steve asks.

Steve shares a black and white photo of a woman, seated outdoors, in front of a makeshift white backdrop, her hair styled into a modest, shoulder-length coif. Her linen top, trimmed with lace, hangs off one shoulder, and a string of pearls adorns her neck. Her lipstick, rendered as a middle grey, matches the kohl lining her eyes, giving her a soft, silent movie-era look.

"Hm, possibly."

"Here's another."

Helena leans further over Myka's shoulder, looking closely at the image. "Yes, I believe that is her."

"That's, um, really off the shoulder. Shoulders..." Myka says. "Isn't that kind of racy for the time?"

"Quite tame compared to some. Her expression is unusual, contemplative almost, recalling solemn greek statues rather than the usual fodder meant to titillate men's desires."

"How would you know?"

"One encounters all sorts of materials as a Warehouse agent," Helena says with a smirk.

"As an agent. Uh-huh."

"Listen to this," Steve interrupts, "these prints were made from a stash of glass negatives found locked in a desk drawer years after the photographer died. Many are of Adele, the woman you're seeing, but there are other women, too. They were shot in the 1910s, but these prints were made in the '60s. If there were any original prints, they were never found."

"May I see the images again?"

Steve cycles through and adds a few more, one depicting a roll-down desk with a shrine of photos arranged above, all of women, vignetted portraits and romantic depictions of the female form more typical for the time.

"Not sure if that last one is related. But it says it's by the same photographer."

"Could you send that one over? I'd like to look more closely."

"Sure."

Myka trades places with Helena, and Helena clicks the link. She enlarges the photo and inspects the array of images.

"I vaguely recall flicking through a basket in a shop with ephemera such as this. Perhaps this ghost woman was amongst it, but printed in a manner such as the images depicted here."

"So you're saying the photo in the shop might be a photo from this photo?"

"That is what I'm hypothesizing."

"So when you see her, you freeze like you're her photograph trapped in this photograph."

"Or perhaps I am her, caught in the decisive moment of the image being captured."

"That's really meta," Steve says.

"No matter what, neutralizing that photo should do the trick," Abigail suggests. "Heck, neutralize everything in the basket, just in case."

"Do you remember which shop you were in?" Steve asks.

"My recollection is hazy at best due to the copious amount of drink someone encouraged me to consume the evening previously."

Helena looks at Myka and scowls. Myka looks back, endearingly.

"I don't get hangovers."

"Lucky you," Helena quips.

"I hope you find it soon," Steve says, "because being happy looks good on both of you. You should get back to that."

"Thank you, Steve. And thank you, Abigail, for all your help," Helena says.

"Anytime," Abigail says.

"Have a great trip. Send some postcards!" Steve says.

"What a marvelous idea," Helena replies.

"Isn't flicking through postcards how we got here?" Myka warns.

"Shall you pre-screen everything I touch from now on?"

"Maybe I should--"

"We're hanging up now," Abigail says.

The screen goes blank as Myka and Helena devlove further into playful bickering.

*End Scene*

-TBC-

NOTES: "Laissez les bon temps rouler!" is Cajun French for "Let the good times roll." In season four, Steve and Myka go New Orleans and both say they like jazz, so I'm not making that up. I see Myka as more of fan of popular tunes - Billy Holiday, Duke Ellington, Nat King Cole, etc., whereas Steve would know the genre through and through (and try as he might, never gets Claudia quite on board with it all). The photographer is E. J. Bellocq - I was going to incorporate that more, but the politics behind photos I mentioned is...complicated. I want this B&W show to focus on our ladies journey, artifacts are side-plot motivations. But if you're interested, look him up, and I suggest reading both Susan Sontag and Nan Goldin's essays for some clarity on why the images hold the status they do. From the research I've done, his images are plastered all over Storyville businesses, so if you've been there, you've seen at least one. Oh and I had a roommate once who could drink anything and never got a hangover. Some people are lucky like that.

#BERING AND WELLS #w13 #fanfiction #fan art #Myka Bering #Helena HG Wells #new orleans #road trip! #canon divergent au #it's nice using the characters you like and wish had more screen time in spin off shows #while others need not appear

[wonwooze]

Something told me it was you.

characters: jeon wonwoo/reader au genre: light smut, fluff warnings: cussing, alcohol consumption word count: 5841

Jeon Wonwoo is your best friend for life. You two met just before the two of you were supposed to depart for college. The two of you declared that the term platonic was the exact terminology to describe your friendship. You two were each other’s wingman, sworn protectors, and so many more. So it became a wonder, a great mystery when the two of you starts to realise that the line between love, and being in love is a fine one. Wonwoo best friends! to lover inspired by Zayn’s Tightrope. 

i. We Should Thank Seungkwan

messages

15:46

Seungkwan boo: hey loser. What are you doing today? Probably nothing I shouldn’t ask. I’m going to eat out with a couple of my friends tonight. You should come and stop being such a caveman. See  ya.

y/n: when? What should I wear? What friends?

Seungkwan boo: at 6, we’re going to a movie first at the mall. They’re my school friends. And they’re cool don’t worry. Be ready I’ll come get you.

y/n: ????? Ok

Seungkwan was a friend you, almost quite literally, found on craigslist. At the time you met Seungkwan, you were struggling with SAT and college application. Wanting to get into one of the top 5 universities didn’t help either. Equipped with wits, and endless resourcefulness, you found Seungkwan’s ad on craigslist. He was offering himself to be an SAT tutor, claiming that he almost graduated as valedictorian. After a quick search of his social media, Boo Seungkwan turned out to be enrolled in one of the top private schools in the country. You decided that he looked like a legit tutor that could help you ace your college application, and enlisted his help. As it turns out, Seungkwan was a better friend than he was a tutor. He was always hanging out with you at your house, or at his, telling the perfect jokes where he reiterates funny stories of his schoolmates—whom you never met—in great detail. You liked hanging out with Seungkwan, it would’ve been so much better if you have met him earlier, you thought.

That night was like no other. Seungkwan had never asked you to meet his schoolmates before. You’ve only seen their pictures on Seungkwan’s instagram posts, and have only heard of them from his anecdotes. All you know was that he had a large group of friends, and that they’re supposedly really fun. When Seungkwan showed up on your doorstep, he was eerily excited. He had a huge grin stamped on his face, and a Prius waiting behind him with the engines on. “I’m so excited for my friends to finally meet each other! You know y/n, I’ve been telling these fools that you would be a great addition to our friend group but they weren’t having it.” Seungkwan gestured to his friends inside the car. “Their loss, not mine.” You told him. “That’s the spirit!” He chimed.

When he finally shoved you into the backseat, and himself into riding shotgun, you finally had a look at the infamous Seungkwan’s friend group. There were a total of 5 people in that car, including yourself. You were stuck in the backseat, with two other guys you absolutely had never seen before. “Everyone, this is Y/N! She’ll be gracing us with her presence tonight.” That remark made you blush, and chummy in the gut, feeling the room temperature about to get awkward. You were always kind of anxious about meeting Seungkwan’s friends, fearing they decided they didn’t like you at the end of the day. “Hi.” You said awkwardly, waving your sweater paws lightly.

“You know, y/n. I always thought Seungkwan made you up just so he can ditch us lately. Nice to meet you though, I’m Soonyoung.” The boy sitting at the other side of the seat said by way of greeting. “Yeah, I always doubted you were real. I’m Vernon, nice to meet you.” The boy next to you said shyly. He was good looking, and had the faint smell of aftershave. “Yah! You guys are always on my neck it’s annoying.” Seungkwan chimed in from the front. And that’s how you met Wonwoo. Even if he didn’t made the introduction right then and there, you finally had a good look at him when the group finally arrived at the mall. He straightened his blazer before he reached out his hand to you, and with his baritone like deep voice announced that his name was Jeon Wonwoo.

“Wonwoo! Y/n is going to go to NYU this year! I was helping her with her application remember?” Seungkwan said in the middle of gulping down his cola. Your heart leapt when he mentioned NYU, still berated with the anxiety of college entrance procedures. “You are? Me too! What are the odds. Man I sure hope I get accepted though, it would suck if I didn’t.” “NYU is famous for its film school though, are you majoring in film?” This was the first chance you got of a private conversation with Wonwoo. “Nope. I’m majoring in English lit. Are you taking film?” “Yeah, I do actually.” You liked Wonwoo immediately. You remembered thinking his presence was so still, and calm, so calm that it softened your rough edges, and calmed your anxiety. “I hope I got accepted though. I don’t know what I would do if I didn’t” You told him. Wonwoo shrugged lightly, and nonchalantly adds, “You’ll get in. Trust me.” You’ve never trusted zodiacs, or tarot reading, or anything of the sorts. But the way Wonwoo said it, his deep set cat like eyes piercing into you, that day you decided you were going to trust Jeon Wonwoo and whatever he said.

The next time you met him was when the two of you settled into orientation day at NYU. Wonwoo lived in a dorm at campus area, and you got your own place 5 minutes away from him. The two of you were so delighted when you met each other that day. Wonwoo remembered thinking it was like a match made in heaven. Being the quiet, shy, introvert that he is, Wonwoo relished the idea of having company when venturing into a brand new territory. He secretly wanted to held your hand the whole time but refrain from doing so. That day, Wonwoo took you to eat at a wings joint near campus, and the two of you laughed your asses off listening to Wonwoo’s anecdotes about Seungkwan. Lips smeared with barbecue sauce, Wonwoo ended his sermon about Seungkwan with a statement that you had etched into your memory until today. You and Wonwoo had fought about a number of things, which band was better, which movie was better, which tie he should buy. Sometimes he changed your mind, and sometime you changed his. But on this specific issue, you have never changed your opinion about because you had agreed completely. That night he said, “we should really thank Seungkwan though. If it wasn’t for him, we wouldn’t have met each other and I wouldn’t have a friend at campus. Who would’ve thought he would be a blessing?” The two of you have never stopped talking since then.

ii. The Tale of Two Roommates

“Won!” You banged at Wonwoo’s dorm room at exactly 7 pm. The two of you were supposed to hang out at the library, studying for finals. “Just a sec!” You heard Wonwoo called from inside the room, and couldn’t help but wonder what is taking him long enough. Contrary to what you expected, when the door finally swung open it wasn’t Jeon Wonwoo that was at the other side of the door. It was Wonwoo’s roommate, Kim Mingyu, if you had remembered correctly.  “Oop! Sorry to startle you. Wonwoo is going to take some time, you better come in.” He said sweetly, a smile was breaking on his lips. Mingyu was kind of cute, and you wondered why Wonwoo never mentioned that fact. “Thanks! Um, Mingyu is it?” “Correct! I suppose Wonwoo have mentioned me?” Mingyu had eyes like sugar and caramel, sweet. “Only in passing.” You shrugged lightly. Mingyu proceeded to sit on his bed and fiddled his laptop.

“I hope you don’t mind me blasting a song through my laptop? I lost my headphones a couple of days ago.”

“Yeah no problem! This is your room anyway.”

“Just between you and me,  I lent my headphones to Wonwoo and I could swear he had never given it back.” Mingyu said, not looking mad at all, instead his visage was decorated with a dubious grin. Implying that him and Wonwoo are close enough to make fun of each other. You continued to wonder why Wonwoo never properly introduced the two of you. The person in question was still in the bathroom, hell, only God knows what he’s doing in there.

You had thoughts that Wonwoo was going to be taking too long, and the library is going to be crowded by the time you two got there, but in all honesty he was unknowingly doing you a favour. As you sat on Wonwoo’s bed on the other side of the room, Mingyu was casually playing music by different artists. His tastes ranges from electric music, dance music, to popular songs you often hear on the radio. Your heart skipped a beat only when he glances at you from across the room, and replayed the song that was playing before. It was from Arctic Monkey’s 2013 album, a song you often play when you were in the mood to fall in love. The song, titled Knee Socks, was dripping through the speakers, and Mingyu caught your head bopping along with the beat. “You know this song?”

“Yeah, it was pretty popular when it came out didn’t it?” You added. This time you held Mingyu’s gaze. “It is actually! God, I feel so dumb playing this song now. It feels so outdated.” You chuckled at that. What does an attractive man like Mingyu had to fear? He began to talk to you about the songs he played after Arctic Monkey’s famous ballad was over. And you realised that Kim Mingyu, had held your attention completely. There was something about him that reminded you of chocolate covered caramel. When Wonwoo finally came out of the bathroom, he had looked unusually dashing. His face was completely bare, save for his round eyeglasses he never took off. He was wearing a v-neck t-shirt that shown his perfectly sculpted collarbone. And his wet hair was still slightly dripping. Not that you had noticed any of this, because that night you were completely smitten by Kim Mingyu.

Since then, you’ve found yourself making up a string of unusual reasons to come over to Wonwoo’s dorm. Either to borrow a charger, borrow Wonwoo’s laptop, anything, just so you have an excuse to see Kim Mingyu. It was between your 5th to 6th visits when Mingyu finally asked you out on a date. Wonwoo, being Wonwoo, always warned you against it. “Be careful! I hear he has a reputation.” It’s always be careful this, be careful that. You only started to wonder if Wonwoo was making some of those things up. As reality goes, Mingyu turned out to be one of the sweetest guy to exist. He was always walking you back to your place, even if that meant he had to take a 5 minute detour. He was always careful of your feelings. He never disregarded anything you said. The first few months, your relationship with Mingyu was perfect. You hung out with him in his room, which gave you the additional advantage of hanging out with Wonwoo too. You made Mingyu hot chocolate when he’s craving for one, and the list goes on.

But some stories are not only about you. When you first started dating Mingyu, Wonwoo was always skeptical about it. He was never quite sure about the odds of you two being together. But when it looked like it was going perfectly, Wonwoo’s frown began to cease. His doubts replaced with another feeling. Wonwoo couldn’t quite give the feeling a name, he just knew it when he felt it. 

The first time was when he walked into the two of you cuddling on Mingyu’s bed. It was not like Wonwoo was seeing red, but it almost seemed like he did. He felt the tiniest pinch inside his gut, but no words were registered to explain the phenomenon. After that, he only dreaded the thought of seeing the two of you together. It was not as if he didn’t like seeing you happy, he did. He completely, wholeheartedly did. He just preferred he didn’t have to see it.

iii. You Shouldn’t Build Houses Out Of People

It was nearing the end of your second year in college when you woke up in Wonwoo’s arms. You and Wonwoo stayed being the best friends that you always were. The year that has passed only made the bond stronger. There has been an additional list of activities that you and Wonwoo had shared without making it awkward because you two are almost closer than any friend. Going out late at night for McDonalds, hanging out at his dorm, catching a midnight movie premiere together. It was always Wonwoo this, Wonwoo that, if not Mingyu this, Mingyu that. Wonwoo had hugged you, braided your hair, picked you up and swung you around when your short movie won a college award. You had hugged Wonwoo, caressed the top of his head, squeezed his hand when you get nervous. Anything and everything. You had stayed together with Mingyu too, the whole time. You caught yourself repeatedly saying a prayer for Wonwoo and Mingyu’s presence in your life.

This is where the chapters started to get ugly. Love stories, they tend to get ugly before the main protagonist had any idea what they had been seeing. The same pattern you had found happening with your relationship with Mingyu. It was not as if you didn’t love Mingyu, you do. And he loved you too. But as time strengthen some relationships, yours only wore it down. Mingyu was constantly distracted by his college, his devotion to his music projects, his friend group that doesn’t include you and Wonwoo. This is when you start to realise that love was not a given. It was supposed to be a companion you were supposed to caress, feed and entertain. It was a guest, that came knocking into two people’s heart. And when the people in question started to be too busy to take care of it like they used to, love began to walk out the door. And so then, when Mingyu began to choose hanging out with his band, instead of you, or when you made little effort in making Tuesdays with Mingyu happen again, that was when love began to fade into the background.

The breakup was harsh. It was not as if you had been too numb to not feel broken up about ending a year long relationship with Mingyu. You had silently wept for falling out of love, you often question what you could’ve done to make it turn out the other way. You and Mingyu was sitting at the bench in the dorm lawn. It was almost midnight, so no one could’ve overheard the silent sobs. “It’s hurting me. That we are together, but I don’t feel for you anymore. I feel for the memories. I clung to it as if it’s the only thing I have. It pains me.” Mingyu’s words would not leave your head for years to come. And you had silently nodded in pain, because it was hurting you too. To look at Mingyu, and to wish loudly that things were as they were before. It hurt you to look at Mingyu and could only think of the past when the memories of present was what supposed to hook you onto reality.

He had went inside after that. That night, Mingyu didn’t walk you home and take his usual 5 minutes detour. But Wonwoo did. Like all best friends do, upon seeing Mingyu coming into the room looking completely distressed, something in Wonwoo snapped. He grabbed his coat, ran down the stairs and caught you silently crying on the bench. Wonwoo walked you home. Staying completely silent all the way there. Tucked you in to bed, and brew you coffee. He stayed with you the whole night, skipped class the next day, and moved out of his dorm the next day. “I just think it would be awkward seeing Mingyu after this.” He had said when you asked him why. You promised you would help him find a place.

Before you two had found one though, Wonwoo stayed at your place for a couple of days.  And then days turn to weeks. You had an extra spare bed you only used if your parents come to visit, and Wonwoo was welcomed to occupy it anytime he want. It was quite a comical set up, Wonwoo sleeping on the extra bed in front of the tv, and you on safely tucked in your bedroom. Wonwoo’s stuff splattered everywhere in his space, yours neatly stacked in your bedroom. You having to walk over Wonwoo sleeping body when you had to go to the bathroom at 3 in the morning. It was quite comical, but it was extra magical. Wonwoo was the best roommate anyone could ever ask for, he made dinner sometimes, do the dishes regularly, he’d watched shitty tv with you all the time, and he’s basically a kickass friend. You didn’t want to admit it but having Wonwoo living with you clearly made your days a whole lot better. You slept better knowing the safety of Wonwoo’s presence. You studied better, because Wonwoo always offered to study with you—knowing that someone willingly endured a form of torture with you, had given you an extra serotonin boost. You almost wished he would never found his own place.

The one night that you highlighted vividly in your memory about this chapter you shared with Wonwoo, was the night of your final exams. Exams had always tortured you. You always had this innate need to do everything perfectly, but also freaking out over the limited time that you have in studying. It was not a strange phenomenon that sometime you broke down crying before an exam, it was an accepted reality. Especially, when the days are extremely bad. You would cry harder, or break easier. There was nothing in between.

When Wonwoo noticed this, he calmed you down immensely. You were instantly reminded of how Wonwoo’s presence provided you this strange sense of calmness that softened all your edges. Wonwoo told you not to get too hung up over it, you’ll ace it anyway, you’ll be fine, in his deep baritone voice you secretly admired. The cherry on top of the sundae was when Wonwoo brought you to your room, tucked you in lightly so you would sleep. “It’s okay to sleep now. We’ve been studying since 5, we can continue again tomorrow morning. Besides your exams didn’t start until the day after tomorrow right?” The way he said it so calmly just forced rationality inside your head, you did nothing but nod. You caressed Wonwoo’s hand lightly as he sat by your bed to fiddle with his phone. Anyone who didn’t comprehend the bond you had with Wonwoo would think that what you were doing implied that you were his girlfriend. But anyone who shared the same bond probably knew better. But you weren’t so sure you knew better either.

“Won. Please don’t leave.”

“What? I’m not leaving. I’m right here.” He said, not peeling his eyes off the screen. “I mean just sleep here tonight. I have plenty of room.” At that Wonwoo directed his gaze at you. Undoubtedly surprise at your statement. This, was the one activity you had never done together. “Are you sure?” He asked. Wonwoo, the compassionate, quiet guy, who had helped you strengthen your grip on reality, time and time again. Sometimes you ask yourself if you even deserve him. “I’m serious. Just sleep!” You tugged at his hand and tapped at the empty space beside you. “Okay..” He agreed, and proceeded to take off his glasses, put down his phone and lay down beside you. Granted, with Wonwoo on the bed, the space seemed to shrink.

“Are you comfortable?” He asked innocently. “Ugh, don’t make this awkward Won. Just flop on the bed, lay in it, whatever. My bed is your bed, too.” You said as you stare at him. Head propped on the pillow. It was not long after that you started snoring. And so did Wonwoo. Secretly he liked sharing your bed. Your warmth provided him a strange sense of comfort he never experienced before. Wonwoo, only wondered, not out loud though, at the strange beat of his heart that night.

The nights after that wasn’t as bad as the first one. Sometimes you flop over his bed in front of the tv and slept with him. Sometimes he slept on your bed. It was a shared routine that you two never talked about. Not a single word said about the nature of this new activity.

A couple of nights after, you were casually scrolling through your instagram feed only to be greeted with a picture of Mingyu, and a girl you recognised was his classmate. You didn’t know what it meant. Had it meant Mingyu was completely over you? Did he do it just to piss you off? You realised you were living in bliss when you were with Wonwoo. Completely unaware of the world going on out there. Almost like a honeymoon, you thought, but then quickly dismissed the thought as if it were foul. But that picture of Mingyu had completely shattered the serenity that sheltered you and Wonwoo. You threw your phone across the room. Seemingly seething with anger.

“The hell? What is wrong with you?” He began to walk and pick up the phone. Mingyu’s smile was still plastered on the phone. The same exact page. “Oh.” He said when he realised what it was all about. “Yeah. Oh.” Your voice was dripping with venom. Only then did you realise how your anger at the breakup has never really subsided. It was as if anger comes in waves, and this was about to crash, loudly. Wonwoo calmly put the phone down to pull you into a tight hug. His hug felt calming. If your anger was like waves, Wonwoo’s hug was like a lighthouse.

You were sitting next to him on his bed, your head atop his shoulder, and his chin atop yours. “I’m sorry.” He said, softly. You made a mental note that you could recognise his voice, anywhere, anytime. You only shrugged in response. Did your relationship not mean anything to Mingyu? It hurts the most when it almost meant the world to you. You were cherishing the way Wonwoo’s arms curled on your shoulders was like a sign of protection. It in and of itself, meant you’re safe. You could only wonder how someone could be of such importance to another person.

“You know, you shouldn’t build houses out of people, y/n. Because they come and go. So easily. Almost like it’s nothing.” He finally pulled himself away from his initial position to stare at you right in the eyes. His eyes, you’ve always thought was like a cat’s. But now you realised the gaze, the fire flaming behind it, it looked more like a fox’s. Everything about Wonwoo in that moment, reminded you of safety, protection, familiarity and home. He was the only thing in New York that tied you to home. You both came from the same small town, you knew the same people, you’ve been his friend since college barely even started. Wonwoo was, in every sense of the word, home. And that night you’ve decided to come back.

You’d like to think you were never on your right mind when you’re sad. You were always making rash decisions you would later either regret, or forget. You never really know what was into you, to get you to pull him by the t-shirt, close the distance between you two that initially felt like 5 miles, but was now nothing but a shared breath. You kissed him, so hard that it felt like you were drowning. Later in life, when someone offered you to pick between chocolate covered caramel and peppermint candies, you made sure to pick the latter. Because that night, Wonwoo smelled like peppermint candies, and you couldn’t get it out of your mind. Almost as if it was driving you crazy.

You’d like to think you were pushed by all the pent up anger, the unsaid feelings about how you secretly liked Wonwoo’s touch, Wonwoo’s presence beside you on the bed, just Wonwoo. It could’ve been the way Wonwoo was literally sitting underneath the moonlight, basking in all of its glory. It could’ve been the way his fox like eyes stared at you like no one ever does before, like he understood you, through and through. It could’ve been anything. All you knew was if you didn’t kiss Wonwoo, you would’ve gone insane. “Kiss me, Won.” You murmured against his lips. And to your surprise, he did. He kissed you like he had never kissed anyone before.

He, on the other hand, liked to think, he was carried off. He didn’t know what has gotten into his right mind kissing you like that. Like he was hungry. Like he was in pain. He had pushed all other thoughts from his mind. That night there was only you. He looked into your eyes, and was reminded of the person you have always been to him. The only person who would listen to his nerdy ramblings about movies. The only person who remembered the names of all his cousins who always caused him trouble. The only person worth a damn in this whole world. It was not long before his hands found the buttons of your shirt, and your hands slid into his back, passionately lifting his t-shirt. When he pulled himself off of you to breathe, you recited him, “I shouldn’t build houses out of people, because they leave. But you, you’re my best friend Won. You would never leave.” You pulled him into a kiss one more time, and that night was the night the two of you came home.

iv. What We Talk About When We Talk About Love

“Jeon Wonwoo!”

Wonwoo, startled, immediately turned around to see who that was. The owner of the voice was Kwon Soonyoung, his childhood best friend. Wonwoo had his hand on your back, slowly ushering you to Soonyoung’s direction. Kwon Soonyoung was a handsome 20-something year old. He was tall, not taller than Wonwoo, you made a mental note to yourself. His figure was very lean, like the figure of a professional figure skaters, or that of a professional dancer. Wonwoo with a grin stamped all over his face went up to him and gave him the tightest hug.

It was a festive evening. To be precise, it was Wonwoo’s friend, Seungcheol’s wedding. “Crazy how he is only a year older than me, but he’s getting married. Meanwhile, I couldn’t even score a date?”

Strange as it may seems, that one eventful night was the only time you slept with Wonwoo. You two woke up the other day, brushed each other’s hair, straightened your t-shirts and went on with life like nothing had happened. You had always thought it was one of two things; either it meant nothing, or it had meant everything and the weight of the thought had rendered your tongue useless. Either way, the two of you had never mentioned dating, or sex, or relationship in front of the other. As if it was a silent pact. The fact that this pact was never officially made just confirmed that Wonwoo and you practically operated on the same braincells.

“It’s because you have never made a move! Jeon Wonwoo, how are girls supposed to get to know you if you never made a move?” Unlike a normal person, Jeon Wonwoo never thought other girls exist besides you. It was always you, he thought of. You’re the only person he would call if he got into a fight with his mom. You’re the only person that should know his in depth feelings about his classmates. You’re the only person he thought of for a date to a friend’s wedding. After all, you’re his best friend.

“It feels like we haven’t seen each other in years!” Soonyoung exclaimed. The way he inserts himself into conversations strangely feels familiar. Soonyoung has a presence that made you immediately felt embraced, and at ease. He kind of reminded you of Wonwoo that way. “It’s because we truly haven’t, moron! How are you doing? I see you’re still getting 0 luck with girls.” Wonwoo teased him. The way the two interacted, made you think of brothers who have been separated for too long. Soonyoug playfully slapped Wonwoo’s back and gulped down his champagne. “Aish, don’t go flexing on me now that you got yourself a beautiful girlfriend!” He said, gesturing to you who were just standing there.

“Me? I’m not his girlfriend! I would never! No offense to you though, Won.” A smile emerged on Wonwoo’s face. It is a running joke that you would never date Wonwoo, and vice versa. You once told him, “At this point, we’re practically twins!”

“None taken, my lady.” Wonwoo said, still with the smile on his face. “Oh! Thank god. I was about to give you a whole essay on why you should rethink your decision.” Soonyoung teased, winking at you. At that the three of you laughed. You’ve never met Wonwoo’s childhood friends before. But he had always assured you, they’re like family to him, so they should be family to you too.

You, Soonyoung, and Wonwoo took up a table of five, joined by Seungkwan, and Seokmin who just happened to know Seungcheol too. You gave Boo Seungkwan a kiss on the cheek, reminding him how much you missed him. Seungkwan and Seokmin was such a comedic duo, you couldn’t help but burst with laughter every five minutes or so. It was one of those days where you really enjoyed yourself.

Weddings were not particularly your type of events. Strangely though, weddings were always graced with a type of magic that you could sense through the air. It might be because of how weddings itself was supposed to be the strongest union of two individuals who loved each other endlessly, and sacred enough that it could only be broken through death. It could be because a wedding is the happiest moments of a person’s life. It could be because for everyone else who was invited, it was a chance to reunite with old friends, and families.

And that night, the magic poured on your cheeks like raindrops. That night, as you sat by Wonwoo’s side. Feeling strangely nervous for finally meeting Wonwoo’s friends, he held your hands so tight, as if it was a secret message. And the message reads; don’t worry, you’re safe. What’s crazy is how he never let go of your hand the entire night. It was an unspoken gesture, but it was there. Even when you have finally loosen up, and laughed along with Seungkwan and Seokmin, he still wouldn’t let go.

When Seungcheol came up to the stage, serenaded with lovely romantic tunes, and began to start his speech, an homage to his wife. The night began to descend into something you are not entirely sure of.

“If I was supposed to describe my wife in three words, I’m going to be at a loss of words. Because how do you even try to describe someone so attentive, so caring, so beautiful, entirely intelligent, possesses the kindest heart, with just three words? 

My wife has given me everything I thought I didn’t deserve.”

During that pause, Wonwoo clutched your hand a little bit tighter.

“I was not the least bit stable when I first met her. That is even an understatement. I was just a mess. I was all over the place. I was late on bills, I was fired from my previous two jobs, and worse, I preferred to be drunk than having to face any of that senseless reality.”

This time you clutched his hand tighter. At one point, you could feel your own breath flowing in and out of your lungs.

“But, my wife? She was like a god sent. She came into my life like the angel Gabriel. Gave me a sense of direction. Helped me get sober. Helped me find a place to live that was not my mother’s basement.” Seungcheol earned quite a number of chuckles at that. But if you look clearly, his wife’s, as well as his friend’s eyes were starting to brim with tears. It must’ve been a dark chapter in his life.

“This woman practically saved my life.”

You turned your head, to get a look at Wonwoo. He was still staring directly at the stage, there were bits of tear on his clear, perfect eyes. As you look at him, you were only reminded of one thing. That night at your place, where Wonwoo was basking in the moonlight. Tonight, it was as if he was the moonlight. His grip on your hands felt like a comfort, security. The way he had always made you feel.

“So, when they asked me to write an homage to the angel who I’m now proud to call my wife, I thought, ‘man, how am I supposed to do that?’”

Wonwoo must’ve felt your stares, because now he was looking at you. There was such tenderness in his eyes, that couldn’t be compared. You’ve never seen Wonwoo this way before. Like a godsent. There was only one time that almost, briefly mimics this moment. It was the day you two went to the beach, for the first time together. Wonwoo was staring straight into the sunset, the wind whipping his hair, the glow of the sunset framing his visage. The scene was so dreamy, you almost thought it didn’t happen.

“Man, I suck at this. I hope my wife isn’t disappointed.”

Again, Seungcheol earned a number of laughter at that. And from the looks of it, his wife isn’t in any how disappointed. There were visible tears running down her cheeks, threatening to undo her makeup.

“So, let’s all raise our glass.”

Wonwoo’s stares was like daggers in your heart. Threatening to undo a secret long unraveled.

“To the most beautiful woman, I have ever met.”

As Wonwoo was fixing his stare at you, everything seems to finally made sense. There has always been a reason why you fit him more than his favourite sweater. To the most beautiful woman, I have ever met, a sentence fit only for you.

“To the love of my life.”

Claps erupted from all around the venue. And when you knew, you knew.

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[nose-bandaid]

그해 그 달 그날  (that year, that month, that day)

i Need a yanan fluff please! how about fluffy/angst one of him being really tired because hes recently just rejoined the group but loving being back and just needing some comfort and cuddles 🙁🙁

Yanan x (Gender Neutral) Reader fluff (with some angst) | 2.1k words

synopsis: yanan has finally returned to his group for promotions — and he’s elated, the happiest he’s ever been — yet he feels so tired. so, so tired. and so he comes to you for some comfort, and maybe some cuddles and sweet reassurances along the way.

a/n: hi yanon anon !! i hope that i got what you were going for with your prompt! i really like writing this i didn’t know how much i needed this yanan comfort + fluff until i finished it. i hope you enjoy reading it! :)

=====

You were just finishing up some of the last chores on your to-do list when your phone rang from the other side of the room. Skipping over the objects littered all over the floor (it’s funny how in order to clean, you sometimes had to make a mess first), you glanced at the screen and titled your head a little out of confusion when the caller ID read Yanannie. Not that it was unusual for your boyfriend to contact you throughout the day — you guys would text each other whenever you had the time to — but he rarely called unless it was something serious. He’d already established the fact that he preferred texting over calling, so a hint of worry laced your voice when you picked up.

“Hello?”

Yanan didn’t hesitate to get straight to the point. “Are you free tonight?”

“Huh? Yeah, why?”

There was some distant chatter on his side of the line and it sounded like he was trying to move away from it. “Can I come over? At like 7?”

“Sure,” The conversation stalled for a moment before you spoke again. “Is everything alright?”

Just like last time, he answered without missing a beat. “Yeah, I just want to come over.”

“Okay… Then I’ll see you at 7. I love you.”

You heard him mutter a soft “I love you” back before the mumbling near him grew louder and he quickly hung up, leaving you all alone.

You reasoned that the conversation was so awkward and rushed because he was busy — the group was in the middle of their promotions after all. But despite his words, all that call told you was that everything was in fact, not alright. The clock on your wall told you that you still had a couple hours to get all your work done and you sped through the tasks as fast as you could. 

By the time it was 6:00 (5:56 if you wanted to be really exact) everything was complete and you scrolled through your phone in search of a recipe you could follow. You weren’t the most amazing cook out there, but you could definitely make a few basic dishes, and hopefully, you’ll be able to make some sort of comfort food for him. Your eyes caught a familiar name and you looked through the recipe. If you recalled correctly, he really liked that dish, and the process didn’t seem to be that difficult either.

And so, you got up from the warmth of the blanket you had wrapped around you and headed to the kitchen to chop up the ingredients. Not too long after you began doing so, you heard the door knock and you panicked. Yanan wasn’t supposed to be here for another hour, and you were definitely nowhere near finishing the dish. You abandoned your little workstation and made your way to the door, in which you opened to come face to face with your boyfriend. 

Though the man in front of you looked nothing like the Yanan you were used to seeing. 

The last time you got to meet with him in person was about a week ago, when you joined his group for a company dinner. Back then, he seemed perfectly fine, laughing along with the others, looking absolutely stunning in the outfit he had on. But now, even the hat he had on refused to hide the messy strands of hair poking in all sorts of directions, and his posture was hunched, as if the weight of his backpack was far more than he could handle. He had his cute round glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, but that didn’t hide the dark bags underneath his eyes, which lacked the mischievous glint he usually had when he was with you.

“Yanan… You look like a mess.” You pointed out meekly, as if he hadn’t realized that himself.

He let out a small pitiful laugh and took off his hat to run a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I do, don’t I?”

You stepped back to allow him into your house and waited for him to take off his coat and set his bag down before engulfing him into a warm hug. The two of you stayed like that for a while, until you spoke up. “I was going to make you some food, but you came a little earlier than expected so I’ve just barely started.”

“Let’s just order takeout, don’t worry about cooking.” He muttered tiredly into the crook of your neck, his lips cold from the weather outside. “And I’m sorry, I know I came earlier than I said I would, I just really wanted to see you.”

You chuckled as you pulled apart, leaving a hand resting on his chest. “And I’ve missed you too. How about you take a shower while I’ll prepare some things to help you calm down?” You suggested.

He nodded silently and disappeared to your room. He’d stayed over enough times for you to have some of his spare clothes tucked in your closet, in case of any impromptu visits, like right now. As you heard the shower start to run, you returned to your kitchen and packed away all the ingredients you had prepared — you could always just use those later in some other dish — and then picked up your phone to dial his favourite Chinese restaurant. It was a small shop near your house that you first visited together a year ago and it quickly became a hidden treasure to Yanan. He loved the fact that it was always bustling with locals who respected his privacy and had some of the best food that reminded him of home. The owner laughed when she recognized your voice and order.

“I have some extra desserts that I don’t think we’ll be selling tonight, I’ll add them in there for Yanan. I know he likes them.” She added sweetly. She was like any generic auntie down the street, always taking care of the people she met, but you loved for that and smiled through the receiver. 

“Sure, that sounds great. Thank you so much”

You spent the next few minutes cozy-ing up the couch a little bit, grabbing a blanket from your room, and preparing a laptop so that you could watch the latest episodes of your favourite drama that aired a few days ago. You were in the midst of grabbing yourself a glass of water when Yanan walked out of the bathroom, towel resting on his matted wet hair as he dried himself off.

“Feeling any better?” You asked gently and he made his way over to the couch to join you under the blanket.

“A little, yeah.” He replied, nestling into the comfort of the cushions.

“I ordered the food, it should be here in about half an hour,” You continued. “And we’ve got some episodes we gotta catch up on so we can watch those while we wait.”

He simply nodded at your words, humming just the slightest bit. His eyes were glazed over as he stared at your finger hovering over the laptop. You pursed your lips at his reaction and drew back into yourself, daring to ask him the question that’s been on your mind since he called you. 

“Yanan… are you sure everything’s alright?”

He sighed and rubbed his face, you could practically feel the fatigue radiating off of him. Before he answered, he snuggled closer into your body. “Everything is alright, like I’m finally back with the boys and we’re all together again and promotions are going well, so how can things not be alright? Everything’s perfect…” His voice trailed off and he averted his gaze from yours.

“And yet I find it so hard to wake up everyday, I’m just so tired. I love doing this, I love seeing the fans and going to practice and sharing our new songs, but I’m so tired that I’m starting to get sick of this. Sure, everyone else is tired too, I know they are, but no one else seems to have it as bad as I am… I don’t know if I’m fit for being an idol anymore.” He paused again, and then added quietly.

“I don’t want to have to leave again, I want to keep on going.”

At a loss for what to say, you simply kissed him on the forehead and pulled him closer. “It’s okay to be tired, you know that right? That doesn’t make you any less of an idol, or a person, even. You wanna talk more about anything?”

For the next while, you listened to him talk about the good and the bad of his return, commenting here and there to reassure his thoughts. The toll, not just physical, but emotional as well, his recent return had on him was evident and your heart clenched at his tired state. 

The food came not much later and you spent the time eating as if you were in another world. Worries were pushed aside as you told each other silly stories and jokes about your friends, and you couldn’t help but smile when you saw his mood lift and his eyes sparkle once again. Even if it was just a little bit. You loved all sides of Yanan, but this was by far your favourite, and you wanted to keep him in this happy mood for as long as you possibly could.

One episode of your drama and many mouthfuls of the delicious food later, you found the two of you settling on the comfy couch once again. He rested his head on your lap, body stretched across the length of the couch and dangling on the other end a little bit. His hair had finally dried off and now its platinum strands were fluffy, enticing you to to run a hand through them. You giggled when they flopped back onto his forehead and continued doing so lovingly.

“Sorry to come over all of a sudden and be all needy.” He apologized. “I didn’t even ask how your day was.”

You shook your head in disagreement. “There is absolutely no reason for you to be sorry about something like this. I understand you’re tired, and like I said, it’s okay to be tired, you’re only human, Yanan. If you’re concerned about my day, it was fine, nothing special honestly, but today is all about you, okay?”

He let you gently pinch his cheek to make your point.

You pulled back the sleeve of your sweater to reveal the simple string bracelet that wrapped around your wrist over and over again. “You remember that day?” 

He smirked softly. “How could I forget?” He pulled up his own sleeve to reveal a matching bracelet in a different colour. “I asked the stylists to incorporate it into my outfit today so I could wear it on the stage and think of you.”

“You’re so cute.” You smiled. “Do you remember what we promised each other on that day?”

There was a short moment of silence as he recalled his memories. “That we wouldn’t give up?”

“That we wouldn’t give up.” You echoed. “No matter how hard it got, we’ll push through it.”

Life sucked at times. You both knew that. And sometimes it just sucked so bad and you aren’t able to do much about it. Especially with your busy schedules, moreso his busy schedule, seeing each other was difficult and chances to comfort each other physically was scarce. You could understand how the recent events would’ve affected him.

“You’re really strong, you know that?” You added in a whisper, and he sighed.

“I do… I’m just not feeling it today.”

“And that’s fine, it’ll come back to you soon.”

He nodded at your words. “Can I spend the night?” He then asked softly.

“Of course,” You answered, you were still playing with his hair, although your actions were a little more absentminded now. “You know you’re always welcomed here.”

“Mm, I wasn’t planning on sleeping over, but I’ve never felt this relaxed in so long.” He apologized anyways, as he stretched in your lap, looking almost like a cat with his long body, and his eyes stared up into yours. “I love you.”

You just smiled back, and it didn’t take long for him to fall asleep on your lap, eyelids fluttering every so often as he entered a deep slumber. Eventually your legs began to feel a little numb from the weight of his body on yours, but you didn’t do anything about it. Not when he was finally able to rest for the first time in a while. Soon enough, you also fell asleep on the couch, not in the very best position, admittedly, though that was a problem to deal with in the morning. Things like that could wait.

So yeah, life did suck at times. But if you had each other by your sides, you both knew you could get through it. And that “getting through it” could also mean taking a break, taking a moment to recollect yourself, before continuing that long run ahead of you.

And it’s okay if you need to take a break.

#pentagon fanfic #pentagon yanan #yanan #yanan fanfic #yanan x reader #pentagon fluff #pentagon angst #yanan fluff #yanan angst #requests #nose-bandaid

[banashee]

 5 Times Jon and Martin hug +1 time they kiss

 1

 The first time Martin and Jon hug - or more precisely, the first time Martin hugs Jon - it is a response to the fact that they’re still alive more than anything else. It’s after Jane Prentiss’ attack, after Martin finds the body of Gertrude Robinson down in the tunnels.

 Everyone is a bit worse for wear, which isn’t surprising after everything. The whole institute is full of dead worms and police, so there is little time to think of anything else until the worst of the storm has calmed.

 It’s only after, when Jon asks Martin for his statement about the incident that everything hits him at once.

 “I’m sorry I left you. I thought you and Tim were right behind me…” The guilt about almost losing the two of them eats on Martin, and when he looks up at Jon, he is surprised to see that his eyes have softened more than he’s ever seen on him.

 “Martin, it’s not your fault.” Carefully, as if unsure if he even should, Jon reaches out over the desk in an attempt to comfort, and Martin takes his hand and squeezes without thinking about it, grateful to have something besides a cold, hard table or the edges of his chair to hold onto.

 He is also starting to tear up - great. As if today hasn’t sucked enough already, now he’s about to cry at work, too. But Jon… Is unusually patient. He waits for him to finish his statement and doesn’t push more than absolutely necessary.

 Once the recording is done, he looks him in the eye, and thanks him again for letting him record this statement.

 “Thank you, Martin. And, I suppose, I am glad that you are alright. I was… worried when you weren’t with us anymore.”

 “I was worried about you, too. Both of you. I-'' Ah, great, now he really is crying in front of Jon. Martin wishes for the floor to open up and swallow him whole, but Jon doesn’t comment on that. He simply waits for Martin to calm down or leave or… Whatever he chooses to do next, reall, he doesn’t know.

 To both their surprise, after Martin wipes over his face with one of his sleeves, he pulls Jon into a quick but heartfelt hug. The man feels stiff like a board and thin as bones in his arms, but after the first second of surprise, he hesitatingly hugs back.

 “I am glad that you are okay.” he repeats quietly, and when Martin hurries out of the room after they let go, Jon looks after him, hoping that he really is alright. Or at least, will be alright.  

 There is a lot he would have liked to say, or do, but as always, there seems to be a blockage in his head that stops him from doing so.

     2

 It is late at night and Jon doesn’t think there is anyone still in the office. Yes, Martin is still in the Archives, but that is because he currently lives here. However, it is getting late and he is probably in the storage room and asleep by now, so that doesn’t really count, does it?

 Jon wants to keep going, because he is having too many thoughts to calm down, but he is also exhausted. He doesn’t remember when he last got a decent night of sleep, or whatever counts as such ever since he started working down in the Archives. Sleep has always been a difficult subject to him, but it is even more so now.

 Jon is cold almost all the time lately. He doesn’t sleep well as it is, but there is also something about this whole job, this whole situation, that leaves him nervous and shivering. Truth be told, he is afraid. More afraid than he is willing to admit, his short heart-to-heart with Martin when the worms attacked aside.

 But even then, he had been unwilling to get into any more details. Trusting people, being vulnerable - it is an almost foreign concept to Jon, as much as he would like to be closer to the others.

 He’s been holding himself back, trying to keep them at arm's length, for everyone's safety. But ever since Jane Prentiss’ attack, ever since he realized how much he really cares about Martin, Tim and Sasha when he’d feared for their lives, this particular plan had started to fail more and more.

 Jon sighs, rubbing his tired and itching eyes under the glasses. There are slight tremors running through his entire body. Maybe he should get some tea, warm up and then see. He didn’t have a lunch break, because he keeps forgetting these things, so maybe it might help.

 Jon sighs, then he slowly gets up from the seat by his desk. His recently injured leg is still hurting, and he knows he should give it a rest. He knows he should let it heal properly, but he’s always been bad at taking care of himself. Besides, what is he supposed to do at home? Sit there and wait for something terrible to happen while everyone else is stuck here? No, he’d really rather not.

 When Jon steps out of his office, he is surprised to find that there is a faint light coming from the staff kitchen. Slowly, he steps closer to the room until he can see Martin. He is sitting at the kitchen table in an old t-shirt and what looks like green sweatpants with an ugly pattern, hunched over in his seat as he cradles a mug between his large hands. His hair is a mess, standing up in every direction, and he very much looks like somebody who tried and failed to sleep for quite some time.

 Near him on the table, he can see the corkscrew and there is no doubt that there is one of the fire extinguishers in the room. Even though most of the worms are dead by now, old habits die hard, and it seems like these things help Martin feel a little bit safer.

 Jon decides to say something now rather than later. He doesn’t want to startle the other man, and he also hopes that he wasn’t too loud while he worked.

 “Oh, hi Martin. I didn’t wake you, did I?”

 Martin almost jumps out of his skin and his head whips over to the door where Jon is still standing. Clearly, he wasn’t expecting the company at this hour. As soon as he realizes who it is, Martin seems to relax a bit.

 “Christ Jon, I didn’t - I had no idea you were still here.”

 “Sorry, I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”

 “It’s fine, really. Can’t sleep, anyway... There’s tea in the pot, if you want any.” he adds, and nods over to said pot on the table.

 “Thank you.” Jon pulls another mug from the cabinet and fixes himself a mug, grateful that he doesn’t have to fumble his way through preparing everything. Now that he thinks of it, his hands are shaky and he would probably pour boiling water all over himself or something of that nature.

 Truth be told, he is rather grateful for the company.

 “Can’t sleep, either?” Martin asks eventually, and Jon looks up at him. He isn’t sure what Martin sees, but he is pretty sure that it’s fresh scars, exhaustion, more grey hair and eye bags down to his knees, or something to that effect. Really, there is no denying it.

 “Not really, no. Getting work done here… It’s better than nothing, I suppose.” Jon shrugs self-consciously and takes a sip of his tea. It’s warm and comforting, and it instantly calms his nerves. At least a little bit.

 The two of them share a bit of comfortable silence as they drink, and eventually, Jon slumps sideways with a sigh, more even exhausted than he had been before.

 His head lands against something warm, soft and sturdy, and he finds that he doesn’t mind that.

 Martin looks up in surprise when he finds that Jon has actually fallen asleep right on the spot      , leaning against his shoulder.     A deep blush is creeping up his neck, but thankfully, it is in the middle of the night and there is no one else around to see the scene unfold.

 Careful not to wake him, Martin attempts to keep drinking his tea, pointedly ignoring that Jon, who seems dead to the world, actually wraps both arms around his middle in his sleep.

     Oh, Fuck.  

 Martin is screwed - well and fully screwed and he knows it.

 When Jon wakes up later, he is stammering and apologizing profusely, clearly embarrassed about the whole situation. But despite everything, somehow, something between the two of them seems to click into place that night.

       3

 Another time, a little bit later down the line, Jon and Martin hug in the middle of the office. There is no specific reason, really, but truth be told, the two of them have grown closer and closer over the last few months and weeks.

 When they hug, it very much looks like what Tim will amusedly call “The happy fork lift” while he watches the scene unfold with a fond grin. It doesn’t happen often that he gets to see a treat like this -   because “forklift” is actually quite accurate for what’s happening here.

 Okay, so Jon is short. That is      not    his fault, but the fact is, he barely reaches up to Martin's shoulder when both of them are standing up straight.

 No one dares uttering the word “adorable” because for one, Jon is technically still their boss,

 But, the thing is, Jon is short, and when Martin hugs him that night, happy and seemingly carefree for once, he lifts him straight off of his feet.

 Tim may or may not be cackling in the background and Melanie may or may not be rolling her eyes at them.

 Today, there is no specific reason for them to hug. It’s just - their week has gone well for once - or at least, as well as a week can go for them these days. They’re off for the weekend now, so maybe for once, they’re simply a couple of coworkers - friends now, really - who are about to leave and that’s it. Just a friendly “see-you-on-Monday”-hug, and well.

 If both Jon and Martin cling on for just a second longer than they usually would, that’s between them.

     4

 It’s been way too long since they talked.

 Jon has just come back to work, freshly out of coma and the world might just as well have gone on without him. It feels like that, sometimes.

 Jon doesn’t feel like himself at all, even if you take aside the whole “back from the dead” thing. The truth is, Jon is lonely.

 Georgie is barely talking to him anymore. Tim is dead, which hurts like hell, even though they had their troubles towards the end. It doesn’t mean they stopped caring. Jon wishes they could have talked things through one last time, because that’s what friends do, right?

 Sadly, they never got the chance.

 Daisy, Melanie and Basira are around, but that’s not really the same. Jon isn’t as close to them, like he used to be to Martin, Tim and Sasha. Sasha who has been dead for so long and none of them noticed it at the time. It hurts, just as much as losing Tim, and it feels just as fresh.

 Martin is still here, but Jon hasn’t seen him since he came back.

 Every time he hears a door open in the hallway, Jon finds himself jumping up from his seat, sprinting to the door just to see if he might have missed Martin. More often than not, it’s someone else.   Until one day, by chance, he runs into him in the hallway.

 “Martin! Hi!”

 Martin looks up, and it looks like he is… Grey. Fading away, like he isn’t really here.

 “It’s - it’s good to see you. We haven't talked in a while.” Jon is smiling at him, but Martin seems incapable to return it. There is something lost and sad about him, more so than usual - it’s his eyes, Jon realizes. Martin looks sad and empty, but he’s Martin and he’s missed him so much.

 Without thinking, Jon steps closer and wraps his arms around the larger man in a hug that doesn’t get returned this time. Martin stands there, stiff and just as lost as before, and he feels cold. So cold. But he still smells the same, smells of tea and woolen jumpers and that one brand of shampoo that he’s been using for years. It is familiar and comforting, but at the same time, it feels wrong.

 When Jon returns to his office and closes the door behind him, there is a thick  lump forming in his throat. He doesn’t feel better at all.  

     5

 They are standing on a foggy beach and Martin is freezing cold. He is even more faded away than before, as if he barely even exists anymore. Far away from everything and everyone around him.

 When Jon finally reaches him, reaches out for him, he is afraid that he might not even be able to touch Martin at all. But when he reaches out, Martin's hand is ice cold, his skin clammy and crusted with salt.

 They stand there in the middle of an empty beach, waves rolling lazily behind them as the thick white fog seems to swallow them whole.

 “I was so alone.” Martin tells him, and his voice breaks. Jon closes the distance between them in a heartbeat, wrapping himself around the larger man as tightly as he can, trying to protect him from the world around them and everything that is trying to hurt him.

 “Come on, let’s go home.” he quietly tells him, and after what feels like eternity, Martin agrees.

 They keep holding hands the entire way to Martins apartment, throughout the night and the entire next day when they’re huddled together on a train, on their way to Scotland.

     +1

 Martin wakes up warm, comfortable and with a mouthful of Jon’s hair. The man in question is cuddled up into his back, both arms and legs wrapped tightly around Martin, like an octopus. He does that quite a bit, and honestly, Martin can’t complain.

 He loves all the small ways in which they can express their love to each other, and if one of the most “human cactus” people Martin has ever met in his entire life wants full-body-cuddles from him on a daily basis, who is he to deny him that?

 Besides, it’s not like it’s a hardship. Martin loves these moments just as much, and he wonders sometimes how he ever managed to feel truly alive before he - they - could have this.

 Martin is well aware that he’s got privileges that no one else would have with Jon. He knows he won’t ever sleep with him - well, not like that, anyway - and they have talked about this, about boundaries and wishes, everything important to them. They have found and developed their own ways to be close and show their love to one another, and it works. It just works.

 “You’re like a small backpack.” Martin had joked once, and as a result got the treat of hearing Jon sleepily laugh into his shoulder. God, he loves hearing him laugh. It doesn’t happen nearly often enough, but, not without a sizable amount of pride, he noticed that Jon laughs a lot more now that they are together.

 Martin attempts to pull the salt-and-pepper strands of Jons hair out of his mouth without waking the other man, and as always, it proves to be a real challenge.

 Jon’s hair seems to have a life of its own, and it’s everywhere. Spread out over the pillows. In Martin’s face. In his own face - everywhere. Jon, oblivious to all of this, sighs in his sleep and tightens his hold around Martin, hands clasped around on his sleep-warm chest. Meanwhile, Martin carefully attempts to free himself from his boyfriend's hair.

     ‘I should braid it later    ´, he thinks as he carefully tucks the rest of it away and gently scratches Jon’s scalp while he is at it.

 Braiding his hair relaxes both of them, and Jon tends to lean into the touch like a cat, which is always a plus. Martin smiles as he allows himself to slowly wake up while he enjoys the warm company of his boyfriend. It’s been a while since either of them could sleep so peacefully, and even though it happens on borrowed time, they are determined to enjoy every minute of it.

 After a little while later, Jon slowly stirs awake. His hold around Martin tightens for a moment, then he pushes his face into the crook of his neck.

 “Good morning, my Love.” Martin says, fingers tracing along Jons forearms that are still wrapped around him. He smiles when he gets a kiss on his neck in response.

 “Sleep well?” he asks then, and Jon stretches out his limbs while he remains wrapped around Martin. Cat. This man is a damn cat.

 “Hmhm… Good morning, Love.”

 Now that there is a bit more space, Martin used it to turn around and face Jon. He is half awake and smiling at him, as if Martin is the best thing he has ever seen. Truth be told, he is, and Jon is happier to have him than words can express.

 Martin is his person, the love of his life. As hard as the last years and months have been on them, at least they have found each other, and that has to count for something, right?

 More so than that, they’re comfortable with and around each other, in a way Jon hasn’t been around anyone in a very long time, or maybe ever. They know each other, good parts and bad parts alike.

 They remain wrapped around each other for a bit, chest to chest this time, and Jon smiles a happy, loops smile when Martin presses a kiss on top of his head and then keeps stroking his hair, neck and back. His own hands are tracing small, invisible patterns on Martins back now, and the two of them thoroughly enjoy slowly waking up like this.

 Neither of them has had a nightmare, which is rare these days, but they’ll take some peace and quiet whenever they can.

 After a little while, Jon and Martin pull away from each other, just a little bit, to be able to look at each other and to share a proper good morning kiss, ever gentle but definitely enthusiastic.

 “Hi.” He smiles.

 “Hi yourself.” Another kiss, and then they are interrupted by the sound of a growling stomach. They share a look.

 “Time for breakfast?”

 “Yes, definitely. I think we’ve got ingredients for pancakes, if you want.”

 And just like that, they start another day in the cozy cabin in the middle of the scottish highlands.

                                   Notes:  

Warnings: - mentioned canon character death - references to depression, loneliness etc.

#banashee writes #the magnus archives fanfic #tma fanfic #jonmartin #the magnus archives #5+1 things #hurt/comfort #fluff #all seasons #tw canon character death mentioned #tw loneliness #tw depression

[princessjungeun]

Sunshine on A Cloudy Day: Sana x Reader

tw// chronic illness, hospitals, needles, mention of cancer

it’s a high school au btw

this is based on my personal experience. pls be respectful as it wasn’t easy for me to write this :)

Your alarm played through your room, waking you up immediately. You pressed snooze at least seven times before actually getting up and dressing yourself for the long day that was to come.

You pulled on your favorite t shirt and pajama pants before tugging on a sweatshirt. You checked the time before packing your bag, making sure to add your laptop and phone along with their chargers, snacks, socks, favorite stuffed animal, and a few extra school assignments.

By the time you made it downstairs your mom was already waiting for you. Quickly she handed you an apple and muffin to eat on the car ride.

“Okay sweetie I have a meeting this morning from 8 until 11. I’ll bring you lunch, just text or call and tell me what you want.” Your mother spoke not taking her eyes off the road as she drove.

Your mom pulled out her wallet and handed you two familiar cards, telling you to tuck them away until someone inside asked for them.

“Alright sweet girl I’ll be back soon, if they have any issues call me and I can sort it out.” Your mom kissed your forehead before letting you out the car, watching you walk inside before driving away.

Your feet felt heavy as the familiar smell of saline and disinfectant filled your nose. You grabbed a disposable mask off the lobby desk and put it on.

As you started to walk towards the elevator a woman called after you “maam!”

You turned around and pulled down the mask “don’t worry I’m still a minor. I’m going to the 4th floor.”

The woman nodded and gave you a thumbs up with a smile before turning back to check in adults.

It was still early so not many people were in the hallways, except the emergency wing. It is always packed no matter what.

You made your way to the fourth floor hoping if you wakes slower you just wouldn’t have to go. But that wasn’t how it worked and you knew it.

When you entered the waiting room you found a seat by the window. The dull grey sky offered no source of light, leaving you to rely on the fluorescent ceiling panels for brightness.

“Miss Y/LN?” The woman at the desk called your name, waving you over.

“Good morning sweetie haven’t seen you for a few weeks now.” She smiled as she spoke her tone was calming but also happy.

She asked “you got the insurance card for me?” You nodded and handed her one of the cards waiting for her to tell you how much you owed for today’s visit.

“And you have a $30 copay today, would you like to take care of that now?” You nodded and handed her the second card your mom gave you earlier. She finished checking you in “alright they’ll call you back in a bit.”

You sat down and pulled out your phone knowing that your girlfriend was actually awake now.

Y/N: hey

Sana 💞: good morning jagi

Sana 💞: you have an appointment today right?

Y/N 💘: yeah...kinda just wanna go back home

Sana 💞: it’s okay i’ll come over after school and make it better

Y/N 💘: you don’t have to i’ll be fine, this isn’t new

Sana💞: no girlfriend obligations

Sana 💞: i’m coming and you can’t stop me

Y/N 💘: okay fine

Y/N 💘: i’ll text you later, they’re calling me back now

•

•

•

It didn’t take long for your nurse to call you back and get you situated in a treatment room. There was only one other patient along with you. It was a little girl no more than 3 years old. You didn’t know exactly what she was getting but your heart broke at the thought considering what department you were in, Cancer and Blood Disorders.

It took 3 hours for your IV bag to get delivered to your floor so you turned on the tv hoping something good was on. You settled on Moana, the only thing that wasn’t the news.

“Alright love we just got your bag, you know the drill, vitals every ten minutes for the first 30 then i’ll come every hour. We should have you out in 5 hours if everything goes well okay?” Your favorite nurse Haseul explained to you quickly what was going to happen.

You found yourself in this same spot with her every couple weeks so she knew how you liked things to go.

“So how’ve you been missy? How’s Sana?” She poked your side getting you to smile for the first time today.

You told her “she’s really good...I haven’t seen her in three weeks though. She got sick for two and she had finals this week, but today is her last one.”

Haseul checked “so you didn’t see her when she was sick right? You know you can’t be around that with your anemia.”

You nodded softly remembering why you were even in the hospital in the first place. What was once a slight iron deficiency quickly turned into a chronic anemia that couldn’t be healed with oral supplements. Doctors had no other option than to put you on infusion treatments which sucked.

Although people were definitely going through worse, especially in this department, that didn’t take away from what you dealt with. The constant fatigue, dizziness, falling asleep in class, hair loss, being malnourished, all of it a constant reminder that you weren’t like most.

“Y/N!” Haseul snapped her fingers in front of your face.

You blinked rapidly “sorry what?”

Haseul responded “it’s okay I just needed to make sure you didn’t pass out on me. I need to put on your heart monitor.” She placed the stickers on your chest before grabbing the IV kit she placed on your lap earlier.

“Alright in your hand or arm today?” Haseul knows you prefer the arm but she always asks in case you change your mind.

You simply pointed to your arm before extending it so she could access your vein. Finding your vein was no problem, as you still had a raised bump from the last time you got treatment.

“Okay...and one two- there you go.” Haseul secured the IV with a Tergaderm, which was weirdly enough your favorite part of this whole process.

She left you and cane back every ten minutes to check your vitals before disappearing to help another patient for a bit.

You ended up spending the first two hours dozing in and out of sleep, waiting for your mother to call you. Eventually you did in fact wake up, and to the smell of your favorite food.

Your mother sat in a chair next to you on her phone talking to who you assume is a coworker. Quickly she hung up the phone so she could talk to you instead.

“Hey hows it going so far?” She asked with slight concern.

You told her “ fine just sleeping to pass time that’s all.”

She smiled before handing you a bag of food hoping it’d bring some form of joy to your day.

•

•

•

You both ended up enjoying an early lunch together but unfortunately she had to leave the hospital for an emergency meeting. It wasn’t unusual for this to happen so you were used to it, she’d simply be back at the end of your appointment.

Your phone buzzed next to you, pulling your attention away from your mother’s absence.

Sana💞: how are you doing so far?

Y/N💘: it’s good. I’m watching Aladdin now :)

Sana💞: i wanna be there with you rn instead of in math class

Y/N💘: your day is almost over then you can see me

Y/N💘: think of it that way

Sana💞: yeah but i still wish i was with you

Y/N💘: soon

Sana💞: ok fine. i have to go i love you

Y/N💘: i love you too babe

Around the third hour you became irritable and ended up walking the hallways with Haseul. She was honestly the only thing that made you feel normal in this place.

When the two of you got back you were tired and worn out from the walk. It didn’t seem like a long distance to most but you definitely were feeling it.

You found your spot back in the treatment room, sitting in your chair and reclining it back. Just as you were going to close your eyes Haseul called your name.

“Y/N. You’ve got a visitor would you like her to come back?” Haseul didn’t bother to open the curtain to tell you who it was so being the curious girl you were, you allowed it.

Sana walked in with a smile on her face, it was like your sunshine on a cloudy day. It was clear she had just finished school as she was still in her uniform, and she was wearing her backpack.

“Ho- Sana? Why? How did you even get in here?” You asked her through a laugh.

Sana responded “nobody stopped me downstairs and I know you’re on this floor. The lady at the desk outside was very nice too!”

You immediately sat up, not realizing that was a bad idea given your position. Closing your eyes tight you tapped your finger on the arm rest of your chair, waiting for the dizziness to stop.

When you opened your eyes you saw Sana in front of you, a frown on her face. It broke her heart to see you, her girlfriend, in this state. You always tried to make it seem like you weren’t sick but it was very obvious that you still were no matter how much you pretended otherwise.

She placed a blanket over you before running her thumb along your face and softly saying “my baby girl...”

You smiled at her knowing it might possibly make her less sad but it didn’t do much.

She could tell you were tired so she told you “it’s fine just sleep.”

By the time you woke up it was time for you to leave. Haseul had flushed your IV and took your vitals for the last time while you were asleep.

Your mother was downstairs in the parking garage waiting for you and Sana so you could go home.

It was clear by the look on your face that you felt nauseous, a common side effect of your treatment, from the second you stood up.

Sana gathered your things and help you put on your sweatshirt and bag before you two headed downstairs.

You interlocked you’re hand with hers as you felt dizzier with every step you took. She could tell you were having a hard time but she knows how much you try to hide it. When you both made it to the car you fell asleep almost instantly.

Sana helped you to your room, quickly helping you to bed before stealing some of your clothes to wear for herself.

You sleepily held out your arms for her, a soft whimper leaving your lips. She crawled under the covers and you immediately clung to her. You were shivering as if you were standing in snow with only a bathing suit on. Your hands and fingers started turning blue, indicating you body temperature was dropping, a side effect of treatments.

Sana pulled you closer and kissed the top of your head as your fingers curled around her shirt, holding her close.

It only took ten seconds before you started sobbing into her chest. As much as you wanted to pretend you were fine and not in pain, you couldn’t hide it anymore. Breaking down in her arms you sobbed until you fell asleep. She felt terrible knowing there was nothing she could do to fix it, but she knew that you appreciated her being there for you.

You only slept for an hour before you woke up in a cold sweat. Your t shirt clung to your back as you kicked off your blankets seeking some sort of way to cool yourself down. That did little to nothing so you scrambled to the bathroom hoping cold water would do the trick.

Sana knew this was yet another side effect of your treatment, a high fever. Your cheeks burned red as you splashed your face with water in the sink. Much to your relief it worked and you were finally able to get back in bed with her.

Your girlfriend held you in her arms tight as if she never wanted to let go.

“Thank you...” You softly spoke as she drew small circles along the small of your back.

“For what?” She asked curiously.

You mumbled “everything...just everything you do for me.”

She giggled softly “you know i’d do anything for you baby.”

Mumbling softly you told her “i love you.”

She responded quickly “i love you too.”

Letting your eyes close you further melted into her embrace as she tightened her arms around you. In the back of your mind you were reminded why you always said i love you before you fell asleep. Besides the fact that you did in fact love her, but if you happened not to wake up tomorrow, the last thing she heard from you was those three words.

Nevertheless you hoped and prayed you’d wake up in the morning to see her smiling face.

#kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop fluff #twice fluff #twice scenarios #twice imagine #minatozaki sana #twice sana

[nourelle-tracy]

Ok so here we are! This is for fabfivefeb prompt by @gumnut-logic. I chose tge prompt "a memory" and the amaaaazing iris chose to help me and write a fic for my drawings ::squeals and hugs her::

Art is by me, but full credit of this fantastic fic goes to @bonsaiiiiiii 🤗🤗💛✨

Spoiler: Sequel to SOS 2

Warning: panic attacks!

"Welcome back with the 7 o'clock news! Here’s one last hour: at this moment the International Rescue has just heroically rescued a family from a dangerous situation. The disastrous incident, which occurred in a solitary lost house in the mountains of Wuhan, China, involved the rescue of 5 children and a mother, and the heroic intervention of our rescuers, as depicted in this video." The presenter departed to the side to allow all the families present behind the big camera to be able to see the long-awaited video, which represented the pilot of the green Thunderbird along with his co-pilot, recently returned. Both were pulling out the mother and children, fortunately all alive, from the rubble of the house collapsed on itself. You could see the pilot with the yellow sash looking around seriously, before his face turned into a smile, greeting the few journalists gathered, while the pilot with the green sash hid his face from the cameras walking quickly, neither of them giving a word to the press.

"Wow, what a nice comeback after so much..." Gordon grunted, settling better on the back of his seat.

"They practically hit us. Are you okay puffer?" Virgil answered, watching him out of the corner of his eye while he kept his 'girl' in the air.

"Yes. Not as bad as for the...first day." Gordon replied, sighing.

"After the accident it was fair for you to feel that way. You’re just a little out of shape after so much time with those casts."

Gordon subconsciously touched his arm, although it wasn't hurting, remembering how he had gotten that cast on his arm for a few months. He owed Penny a big favor. Then he stretched. "Let’s get this family to the hospital and then we’ll go home."

"How do you measure this day from 1 to 10?" Virgil asked, looking at him directly this time.

The blond considered it for a moment. "Meh, a valid 7. I’m a little rusty. I just want to go home and eat all the celery bars in the pantry." Virgil chuckled. "You?"

"Even if the day is not yet over I'll give it a 9. No tragedies today." Virgil replied.

They had arrived home, and the dinner had been delicious as always. Not really. After trying not to throw up at the table with the other brothers so that Grandma wouldn’t tie them all to some palm trees on the island, Gordon apologized to then go up to his room under the guise of resting for a moment before going for a bath, with immense relief from Virgil who, to be honest, could not see the moment, while all the other brothers disappeared in a heartbeat in various parts of the island not to be found by Grandma when she mentioned a possible dessert. Unfortunately, Scott did not escape in time, repeatedly making praying gestures while sitting at the table, while Grandma put some strange sugary concoction in front of him.

Gordon hurried up to his room, the place where he was most of the time during his convalescence. And in fact, he now wanted to be in the pool for a night swim, and here he is, sitting at the foot of the bed. But after that he would have gladly gone to the pool, maybe soaking all night, even naked if he wanted it. He didn’t care much about sleeping, despite what Virgil kept babbling about, even threatening to keep him nailed to the bed if it was necessary; after all, he had been living the good life between bed and sofa for a long time.

In his hand he had a stone with a paper attached on it, maybe nothing important, but his instinct strongly suggested to him to take it from the rubble. And there it was, in his hands.

During the rescue he had the bad feeling of being observed, and shortly after that rock had made his appearance. He cut off the card, laying the stone on the ground, and opened it with trembling hands. What he saw was enough to make him suddenly nervous.

There, in a wrinkled sheet and probably reused many times, there was a threatening message, consisting of many newspaper clippings glued together. Nothing unusual, you will think, the message will be addressed to the family and should be taken to the police for a good report. But no.

I just wanted to send you to your mom. I thought u missed her...I doubt she is proud of such a reckless child! Do you even remember her? Did she even love you? I doubt!

The message was exactly for him, and unfortunately it wasn't the only one. He did not have time to think further because suddenly a panic attack, also this familiar, began to cloud his sight. He lost no more time, making sure the door was locked properly and moving towards the stereo. His brothers would have tied him up somewhere, but he didn’t care. He put on a song, the first that came to his mind, cranking up the volume and starting to cry desperately at the melody of Caramelldansen, something a little ironic given the situation.

Once his breath was more or less regular, he stood up again, destroying everything that happened to him within range. It didn’t matter if it was the wall, the shelves, the bedside tables...he threw it all away in panic and rage.

He then began to look for something else, opening his closet door and throwing away clothes, shoes, hangers, everything within his sight, until he could see a box still piled between the clothes. He took it gently, his hands shaking violently and his face drenched with tears. He picked up with his nose, sitting at the foot of the bed, the one thing he had not destroyed, or at least not yet. He watched without any force left in his body the feathers fly in the air from the torn pillow, and then he returned to look at the box that he had just pulled out, labeled 'Mom’s memories'. Although, there was nothing belonging to his mom in that box.

In an almost feverish impulse he began to reread the other cards, compiled with the same technique, sent by the one who had helped to make his life a hell and to keep him relegated to this damn island. He felt the rage take hold of him again, so he crumpled all the cards again, throwing them against the wall with all the force in his body. When the second panic attack also calmed down, Gordon rose slowly, collecting all the wrinkled paper balls and placing them in the box, a new ball to add to the collection. He then collapsed on the floor tired, completely forgetting the idea of a swim in the pool.

John appeared to verify Gordon’s condition, and was greeted by the remix of What Are You Doing In My Swamp blasted at full volume, not that it surprised him.

Since the accident, Virgil had sensors applied to Gordon’s clothes to keep him under control and to note any changes in temperature or mood in the squid boy; and here, at this moment, all the values, from the heartbeat to blood pressure, From body temperature to constant mood swings, everything was through the roof. Too much.

Once he had taken control of his stereo and turned off the music, massaging his throbbing temples, John was greeted by a view that made him widen his eyes from the shock. What the...?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Again all credit for this fic goes to @bonsaiiiiiii

#thunderbirds are go #gordon tracy #fabfivefeb #fabfivefeb2021