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ppersonna · 3 years

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out of my league - knj | 01

you were out of my league. got my heartbeat racing. if i die, don't wake me, cause you are more than just a dream - out of my league, fitz and the tantrums

✹ summary- Kim Namjoon was never supposed to find out about your years-long hopeless crush on him. And he most definitely was not supposed to find out about it in front of all your coworkers in a company-wide meeting.

✹ rating- explicit/18+/nsfw

✹ pairing- kim namjoon x reader

✹ word count- 6.6k

✹ genre- angst, smut, comedy

✹ chapter warnings- swearing, descriptions of sex, sexual content, namjoon being a sexy flirt, jungkook being a himbo, awkward conversations, jimin being a protective bff

✹ a/n- hello and welcome to this fic thats lived in my google docs for almost a year now. without @ladyartemesia @xjoonchildx @untaemedqueen and @chimoona, i would never have posted it. i truly owe so much of my brainstorming and creativity to their incredible brains and thoughts and ideas. i love them very much! i hope you enjoy this first chapter! please feel free to message me, talk to me abt anything!! im always here to chat. ILY!

MASTERLIST

Kim Namjoon was never supposed to find out this way.

You planned to confess your undying, unerring love for your coworker at a better time, a classier place. You would wear a dress that highlighted your features, hair cascading down your back, makeup done to perfection and spritzed with expensive perfume. You’d confess, he’d confess right back, and you’d live happily ever after.

You’d also dreamt that Kim Namjoon would have the slightest inkling of who you are before he finds out about your year long crush. He might know you as the mousy girl in the office who doesn’t talk and doesn’t contribute much other than some crunched numbers and apparently the best coffee brewer in the office. But you’d prefer he knows you well—your favorite colors and movies and foods, what makes you happy and sad; things future husbands should know.

You very much did not think it would happen in a company wide conference, full of over five hundred suit-wearing executives. You did not think it would be done by the office bully, Chungha, who carefully takes over the mic and speaks the words clearly as she presents awards of recognition.

“Congratulations to Kim Namjoon for 5 years with the company, over $4 million in revenue, and the object of ____’s lust and affection. I’m sure you two will have the happy life she’s written in her journal about. Make sure you celebrate with her today!”

The room is silent, so silent you could have heard a pin drop from a mile away. Your face is cherry red and you wish the earth would open up and swallow you whole. Your heart feels like someone has ripped it in half and you stare in horror at the girl smirking at the front. Is this what it feels like to be backstabbed? Namjoon looks perplexed—confusion written on his face as he gestures around to no one in particular like he’s saying ‘what the fuck was that?’

Awkward coughing and clapping begins and Namjoon stands to receive his award, a fine wooden fountain pen, and chances a glance around the room. He easily spots you, with your wide, frightened face. His look remains passive, not hinting what he’s thinking behind those stormy eyes, before he turns and sits back down at the table with his buddies from his department.

You seriously contemplate quitting your job. You could find a new one easily, right? Just stand up and tell your boss you quit and you’re out of there before Namjoon ever sees you again and you’ll never have to face the mean girl who’s ratting you out.

As much as the idea rolls through your head, you know you won’t do it. You love your job, love the security and finances it provides you, and you love to look at Kim Namjoon, all day every day.

You don’t understand where things went wrong.

( one month ago )

It’s 9:03 am. You finish brewing the coffee in the small staff kitchen and sigh at the aroma of the freshly ground beans. Coffee is your favorite meal, favorite time of day, favorite snack, and preferred beverage. You drink it constantly. You’re known as “coffee girl” at work, mostly because no one really bothers to get to know you beyond that. You drink coffee like it’s a devoted religion. You could drink a cup right before bed and still sleep like a baby. It was, put simply, your drink.

The office workers deem you to be the one to make the pots of coffee every morning, claiming you were the ‘best’. You didn’t mind—you preferred to make your own coffee regardless—but you believe your coworkers are trying to pass off the twenty-minute job to someone lower in the office hierarchy. And you were one step above the interns.

The coffee machine chimes to let you know it’s hot, and it’s ready for you. You eagerly pour a mug, a large one, and smile as the waft of freshly ground beans (by you, of course) fills your senses.

You nearly knock the cup out of your hand as Kim Namjoon strolls into the office, eyes set on the coffee.

You feel your throat swell up, like he’s an allergen and you’re caught without an epi-pen. Butterflies swirl in your stomach and you can’t stop staring at him. He pays you no mind, tired yet determined to pour a cup of coffee and get back to his office.

You stand in the small kitchen, clutching your coffee like a lifeline, and pray to god you don’t do something stupid.

Namjoon pours his mug, and you watch his muscular hands grip the coffee pot. He pours a hefty amount of cream and sugar into his cup—it appears even perfect male specimens have their faults.

Your eyes dance on his face before they tango down his body. You wonder what he looks like in the morning, crawling out of bed with mussed hair and a sleepy smile painted on his face. He’d look at you and tell you you’re the most beautiful girl and kiss you deeply despite morning breath. Maybe he’d take you to the shower to press you against the tile as he fuc-

“Oh!” it startles Namjoon to see you, and the coffee in his hand swishes violently. “Didn’t see you there. Sorry!”

Your heart melts. He’s the picture of kindness and politeness. You recognize it’s been a few seconds and you still haven’t replied.

“It’s fine!”

“Great coffee, by the way,” he smiles. His teeth nearly knock you out cold with their brilliance. “Have a good day.”

He turns and exits the room without so much as a glance back at you. Your knees feel weak.

Kim Namjoon talked to you. He complimented you. He told you to have a good day. It’s the best and most significant conversation you’ve had with your secret crush.

You definitely file that away for another day when you need to reminisce on his compliment, and you scurry out of the kitchen towards your desk.

Park Jimin is waiting dutifully at your desk when you arrive, a smug smile still slapped over your features as you sip at your coffee. Namjoon spoke to you today—how lovely.

Jimin quirks an eyebrow.

“What’s got you so perky this morning?”

You’re normally quiet and passive, avoiding eye contact or any semblance of emotion on your face.

You look up at the blonde bespectacled boy. Park Jimin is the closest thing to a best friend in the company. He’s who you spend time with at lunch, see on weekends, and text often. You suppose he’s the closest thing to a best friend you have in your entire life.

You send him a smirk and lean in close to whisper. “Namjoon said hi to me today!”

Jimin sends you a pitiful look and pats your shoulder. Your best friend is well aware of your secret crush and while he thinks Namjoon is a nice guy, he thinks your crush is a little hopeless. He’s the most popular guy in the office, often has dates lined up every weekend. Jimin hears the way he and his friends talk in the break room. The man is definitely not hurting for female attention.

“Oh, honey,” he sighs, unenthusiastically. “That’s great.” He can’t help but feel a twinge of sadness over how excited you’re getting from a simple ‘hello’ from a coworker.

“I know, right? Anyway, lunch today?” You ask as you settle down into your cubicle.

Jimin pushes his glasses up his face and nods. “Of course! That’s why I came by this morning. I wanted to let you know that Jungkook from marketing will join us.”

You make a face, disgust etched in the lines creasing your forehead.

“Why?”

Jungkook is well known in the company. He’s a loudmouth, a player, a clown, and everyone’s favorite comedian. He’s just not your favorite.

“Don’t be rude,” Jimin admonishes at your grimace. “He asked to join and well—he’s cute. I can’t say no to him.”

“Oh Christ, Jimin,” you groan. “Not you too! Don’t tell me you have the hots for the serial fuckboy?”

He blushes lightly and shrugs. “Maybe I do! Be nice to him today or I’ll eat all your chocolate ice cream I know you have at home.”

You stick your tongue out, petulantly. “Fine, now let me get to work or else Seokjin will be up my ass.”

Jimin smiles and kisses your cheek before he scurries away, back to human resources.

It feels as if barely any time has passed. You’re working hard, running calculations and updating spreadsheets. You have an eye for numbers, and losing yourself in an equation is just another day for you. You’re shaken from your cheerful place by a vibration from your phone, and a text alert popping on the lit screen.

jimin 12:01 pm- it’s lunchtime!! you better get your butt out here!

You smile and text back an affirmative reply, then move to grab your lunch from the company fridge. Gliding down the steps leading to the fresh outdoors, you meet Jimin at the lunch tables in the grass.

Jimin is sitting with Jungkook. You can recognize your best friend by his hair and glasses, and Jungkook by his obnoxious laughter.

“Hi,” you murmur as you sit down and open up the brown bag lunch you’ve brought.

“Hi!” Jimin is excited to see you, and just a pinch over eager to be sitting next to Jungkook.

“You know Jungkook, right?” Jimin asks, a harsh look in his eyes that reminds you to be on your best behavior.

You nod as you pull out a bag of grapes. “Oh, yeah, hey,” you smile. “I’ve seen you around.”

Jungkook delivers you a signature smirk and you feel yourself roll your eyes internally. “Yeah, you’re Coffee Girl, right?”

You pout and glare down at your brown bag lunch. Will you ever become more than just Coffee Girl?

“Yeah, I suppose that’s me.”

Jimin clears his throat to dismiss any awkwardness.

“So, Jungkook, I hear you like working out? ___ likes to work out too. She drags me to the gym sometimes. Maybe we could all meet up sometime?” You don’t miss the hopeful lilt in his voice. Jungkook does.

“Oh, yeah?” He narrows a sexy look at you, rather—a look he thinks is sexy that you find off-putting. “What do you do at the gym? Little cardio sets with 5 pound weights?”

What an asshole.

“Sometimes,” you state as you take a bite of the homemade salad you handcrafted last night. “Most of the time I’m lifting heavy. I can bench 275 and deadlift 300.”

Jungkook looks taken back. “What, really?” He sounds breathless. “You lift more than Namjoon-hyung.”

At the sound of the love of your life’s name, you pause. Your face heats quickly and Jungkook smirks. Of course, he recognizes this and not Jimin’s obvious flirting.

“Why are you blushing?” He asks. “Did I say something?”

You’re quick to dismiss things. “Um--no. I just um,” you’re grasping at straws. “I’m hot.”

Jimin is trying not to laugh, hiding his mouth behind a petite hand.

Jungkook tilts his head. “It’s not even sunny today.”

You gulp. “Yeah, I must be hot. With a fever. M-malaria… probably.”

Jungkook snorts.

“You have malaria? Bummer.” He picks at his nails. “I thought for a moment you had a thing for Namjoon.”

“No!” The retort is quick, too quick for normal conversation, and it gives you away.

“Aha!” Jungkook points an accusing finger at you. “You have the hots for him, don’t you?”

Your features melt, and Jimin tries to assuage the situation. “Jungkook, please don’t tell anyone,” he pleads.

Jungkook smiles at you. “That’s so cute. It’s like a little nerdy freshman crushing on the senior class president.”

You bury your head in your hands, suddenly unable to stomach any food.

“Jungkook,” Jimin’s tone becomes more firm, authoritative. “I’m asking you this as a friend. Please, don’t say anything.”

Jungkook holds his hands up to prove his innocence and waves his proverbial white flag.

“Secret is safe with me,” he promises. “But it’s cute. I know him really well, you know. I could try to hook you two up.”

You blanch, unsure if you want Jungkook saying anything about you to the man of your dreams.

“I’m good, but thanks,” you offer meekly. “I’m not feeling well. I’m going to head back to work, okay?”

Jimin frowns, knowing you’re feeling like a cornered animal, and nods. “Feel better, babe,” he sighs.

Jungkook watches as you leave and turns to Jimin. “Man, he’s way out of her league.”

Jimin slaps the boy in the chest. “Be nice, asshole, that’s my best friend.”

Jungkook promises to be nice, and Jimin is blissfully unaware that others are listening and that the man beside him is easy to persuade.

( present day )

The company-wide meeting adjourns soon after what is likely to be the most embarrassing moment you’ve ever lived through.

You’re grabbing at your things and trying to run out of the room, desperate to get out before anyone sees you or talks to you or laughs at you.

A hand grabs at the coattails of your suit jacket and you’re pulled backwards with a yelp. You turn to seek your captor and find the concerned face of your best friend, Jimin.

“Are you okay? What the fuck just happened?”

Jimin’s concern makes it all real. Until now you could pretend you were in a fugue state, totally dissociated from reality. Now, you realize that everyone in the entire company is aware of your crush on Kim Namjoon.

You can feel your bottom lip wobble, tears threatening to spill. Jimin murmurs an ‘oh shit’ and drags you out of the large room and into the nearest bathroom. He pushes you to sit against the sink and passes you toilet paper to dab at your eyes.

“I don’t know how she found out!” you cry. “God, I feel so stupid and embarrassed.”

It incenses Jimin. He’s holding it back to ensure you’re okay, but in reality, it’s an HR nightmare waiting to happen. He’ll find who did it and punish them accordingly.

They will suffer.

“It’s okay, babe,” he pulls you into a hug. “Everyone will forget about it soon. They’ll think it’s just a lame office joke, okay?”

You nod, feeling the slightest bit comforted by his words.

“How could she find out, Jiminie?” You ask with a sniffle. “You’re the only person who knows.”

Jimin sighs and shakes his head.

“I don’t know, but they’re dead. I haven’t told any-... oh, my god,” Jimin stops suddenly. You look up at him to catch what he’s thinking.

He growls and balls his fists.

“Jungkook knew.”

You let out a sob and bawl your eyes out into the tissue you’re holding. Jimin holds you tighter while he conjures up a hundred different ways to hurt someone and make it look like an accident.

“Don’t worry,” Jimin sighs, trying to comfort both you and himself. “I’m HR. I have to handle this. I’ll make sure they get what they deserve.”

You feel a sting of pain for Jimin. He’s been hopelessly doting on the man who spilled the beans for a few months now, even got to take him on a few dates. It was still nothing serious, but Jimin was clearly smitten.

“I’m sorry you have to do that, Chim,” you whisper. “I know how you feel about him.”

“Yeah, well,” he swallows thickly. “You’re more important than any asshole.”

Jimin holds you tight for a few minutes longer, before you clean yourself up and steel yourself. Ignore everyone, Jimin encourages. Just get to work, he says. Then you can go home and we’ll drink wine and forget about it all, he promises.

You replay his words in his head like a prayer as you walk down the corridors and towards your office. Everyone in the hallways stops to stare at you. They lean towards their friends and whisper. You hear snippets of their gossip, like “Namjoon” and “out of her league”. It drives the sharp blade lodged in your chest even further. It threatens to collapse your lungs and break your ribs.

You make it to your desk safe and sound and bury yourself in work and forcibly ignore the gawking and the stares.

Just make it home. Just get through the day. You’re almost there.

You could do this.

You nearly make it the entire day before running into the one person you didn’t want to see, Kim Namjoon.

At the end of the day, you’re taking the stairs down to the parking garage instead of the elevator. The elevator is too busy, too many people, and you’re trying to avoid the stares and giggles at your expense. The stairs are always deserted and you figure it’s your safest bet.

You can nearly hear the wine calling your name at home. A delicate glass of Sauvignon Blanc and some chocolate ice cream and a good cry—it sounds like the best and only way to unwind after the worst day you’ve ever had in your life.

The chanting of your name gets louder and you wonder if you’ve finally lost your mind—if you’re actually hearing your wine bottles all the way at home talking to you.

No, wait. The voice is real, and coming from behind you. You turn around to face who’s calling you and nearly faint at the sight.

Kim Namjoon stands on the landing above you, one strip of stairs between you.

“Hey!” He seems glad he’s caught you. “I’ve been calling your name for a minute.”

You swallow and search for an answer.

“Sorry, I’m-.. I guess I’m just a little out of it today.”

Namjoon grimaces.

“Yeah, about that…” he begins as he takes the steps down to be on equal ground as you. Your heart is spinning wildly. He’s so close to you. He’s talking to you. On any other day you’d be erupting towards the sky like a firework. But today isn’t any other day.

“I feel like I should apologize,” he states. “I don’t know what happened. I didn’t plan it or anything.”

Damn him and his kindness. Damn him and his cute, awkward smile.

“No, no,” you assure. “I know you didn’t. You don’t have to apologize.”

It’s hard to make eye contact with the man. You want to, know it’s important in intense conversations like this, but the thought of him seeing you—really seeing you makes you ache inside.

“It was a really shitty prank,” he begins. “I’m sure you don’t even know who I am, let alone have a crush on me.”

For the millionth time that day, your face heats to a near boil. You stammer and you’re sure you’ve blown any chance at even thinking about a date with Namjoon.

“Oh, uh, right,” you seek an answer, beg your brain to pick something to say that doesn’t make you sound stupid. “I do.”

“You do what?” He’s confused and you widen your eyes at what just left your mouth.

“I do know you! I mean, I do have a crush on you! Oh, fuck,” you shove your face into your hands. “Please, ignore that. I need to go. Sorry!” You don’t give him a chance to reply, you book it out of the stairway as fast as your heels will take you.

Today was the worst day you’ve suffered through in your life.

The next few days aren’t much better.

Not only are you “coffee girl”, you’re now also sarcastically called “Namjoon’s girl”. As much as you hate your initial title, you’d prefer it to the new one they throw at you as you walk by.

Jimin rats out Jungkook and Chungha to the bosses. They get two weeks probation and they have to write you apology letters if they wish to keep their permanent files clean of any reprimands. It’s a slap on the wrist, and everyone involved knows it. Jimin is furious and wants the boss to reconsider. You tell him not to push it. You’d rather this be over and everyone to forget it even happened. Jimin unwillingly agrees.

You’re working at your desk, earphones shoved in your ears to diffuse the gossip in the room, when you feel a tap on your shoulder. You turn and are greeted with the face of Judas Iscariot himself, Jeon Jungkook.

“Hi,” he sounds sheepish, cheeks reddening.

You narrow your eyes at him, sharper than steel. “What the fuck do you want?”

He winces, knowing he deserved that. “Well, I just wanted to apologize. I know they told me to write you a letter, but it seems too impersonal…”.

You can’t believe Jungkook is sucking his ego up and actually coming to you to apologize. You thought he’d for sure be the one to cop out and send a shitty letter.

He continues.

“I just wanted to let you know that I’m sorry that all went down. I didn’t mean to tell her. She got me drunk and said she saw me eating lunch with you and Jimin. I think she was jealous or something and it slipped out. I know that’s not an excuse. I fucked up your trust and Jimin’s trust. But I just wanted you to know I didn’t do it to be an asshole. She sort of duped me.”

You pause as you take in the man’s apology. He didn’t have to come to you in person. He could have easily taken the shitty route and half-assed a letter to you. But he didn't, and he owned up to his mistake. God dammit.

“I appreciate your apology, Jungkook,” you sigh and you see his body visibly relax. “I’m still mad, but I guess the anger is at her for doing it in the first place. I’m sorry she tricked you.”

He breathes a sigh of relief and kneels down beside you. “I’m really happy you believe me. I was worried you were going to kick me in the nuts.

“I won’t lie, I thought about it.”

He smiles with you, and you feel like this is the restart of a friendship. “I definitely deserved it.”

You shrug and smile. “Jimin would kill me for hurting you. He might even kill me for thinking about hurting you.”

Jungkook’s smile drops at the name of your best friend. Yikes. Looks like there’s still trouble in paradise.

“I think you’d be in similar company with Jimin right now. He’s not speaking to me.”

You let out a breath through your nose. “Yeah, he’s a little protective of me.”

“For good reason,” he admits. “You’re like a cute little flower. A cute nerdy flower.”

“Jungkook,” you warn. “I just forgave you after I was humiliated in front of the entire company. I’d be careful with calling me nerdy right now.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it in a bad way.”

It’s hard to stay mad at the boy, no matter how much you dislike his reputation around the office. The fact that he humbled himself enough to seek you out and apologize is proof enough to you of his character.

“It’s okay, Jungkook. I forgive you,” you smile. “Thank you for apologizing.”

He rubs the back of his neck anxiously as his cheeks flare red.

“Yeah, it felt pretty shitty to just… do anything else. Plus, you seem really cool.”

“You seem great, too, Jungkook.”

He smiles and pulls you in for a hug, catching you off guard. For the fuckboy type, he’s surprisingly sensitive and soft. You like that about him.

“I’ll see you around, okay?” He says as he pulls away from you.

“Maybe you should apologize to Jimin, too?”

His smile drops, but he nods anyway. “Yeah, maybe I’ll go find him now.”

“Good luck,” you offer with a pat on his shoulder.

With a sad smile, he turns and heads down the hallway towards the HR department. You pray Jimin shows mercy to the handsome boy.

A few weeks go by, and you’re sure that everyone has forgotten about you and your most embarrassing moment to date. You make the coffee, you calculate the numbers, everyone ignores you. Things return to relative normalcy.

Until it doesn't. The moment you think you're safe is the moment your guard comes down and everything falls apart around you.

It's when you're in the staff kitchen, grinding fresh beans to brew a second pot of coffee, that it happens.

The kitchen is fuller than usual. You normally try to wait until the lunchtime crowd dwindles and leaves to make your second pot, but you're so desperate for the caffeine that you can't find it in you to care.

You trudge into the kitchen with your handy coffee mug clutched in your tired hands and head towards the cupboards to grind up the beans.

There's a few groups of coworkers lingering in the room, and as your grinder whirs the beans around into a powder, you chance a look around to see who's among the crowd.

Your eyes flick immediately to where a hearty laugh erupts. It makes your heart still in your throat. Namjoon sits with his usual crowd of friends, hand gripping a homemade sandwich while the other assists him in telling his story to his friends. He pays you no mind—why would he?—and you can't help but stare at the way his dark brown hair lays perfectly against his forehead, and his eyes crinkle so cutely at the edges when he smiles.

You nearly forget about the coffee grounds—you're snapped out of your Namjoon-induced trance when suddenly a woman's laugh echoes around the room.

"Look at her," the voice states.

You peer up and see a girl you vaguely recognize. Is she from Marketing? Or perhaps Sales? You’re not sure, but she’s staring at you with a sneer.

“She’s so weirdly obsessed with Namjoon. It’s so creepy.”

Your face turns cherry red and you’re sure your lungs stop functioning. The air your body needs to breathe freezes and your chest aches.

Namjoon turns to look at the girl before he looks and sees you grasping your coffee grounds tightly.

“Chungha was right—it’s so weird. Namjoon, you should talk to HR about this!”

Namjoon turns back to the gossiping coworker and frowns. “Can you leave it alone? She wasn’t even doing anything.”

The girl huffs and crosses her arms over her chest and looks back at Namjoon.

“How can you stand to be in the same room as her? She clearly thinks she has a chance with you.”

Her words come out like a bite. She punctuates her point with a harsh laugh and the group around her mumbles and chuckles in agreement.

You’re desperately grabbing at anything you can, wanting to leave as quickly as possible before you’re embarrassed further.

“Well, she does!” Namjoon replies loudly, annoyance written in his features. “I was actually going to ask her to dinner this weekend in private, but since everyone is so fucking interested in my love life, I have to do it publicly.”

The room falls silent, and your favorite mug falls out from your hands and shatters on the floor. All sets of eyes stare at you while yours widen with disbelief—you don't even care that you’re standing in a pool of old coffee and shattered ceramic.

Namjoon stands and heads over to you, bending down to pick up the shards of your coffee mug. You take a few stunted breaths to kneel and help.

His eyes peer into yours. They’re warm—a chocolate brown color that makes you feel safe.

“What do you say?” He asks with a smile so gentle it nearly breaks your heart. “Will you let me take you out this weekend?”

You’re gaping like a fish and the surrounding room is silent—bated breath waiting for your reply.

“Yes, I would l-love that.”

His smile turns even brighter, and he stands to throw the broken mug away.

“I’ll email you the details, okay?”

Your head nods dumbly without thinking. His eyes sparkle as he smiles at you, and he extends his hand down to you to assist you off the floor. As your hand slips into his, you can’t help but feel how soft and strong he feels. You wonder what his hand would feel like caressing your face, smoothing down the expanse of your bare back, running down the length of your body.

The thoughts shake out of you as he winks and kisses your hand gently, causing the gossiping coworker to grunt her disapproval and for murmurs of shock to echo around the room.

“I’ll talk to you later, doll.” Namjoon winks at you before he grabs his sandwich and leaves the room, gesturing to his crew to follow along.

The place on your hand felt warm where his lips once lingered. You no longer cared about the angry glares from the rest of your coworkers. Your heart beats wildly in your chest, and you leave the kitchen nearly floating on cloud nine.

Email from: Kim Namjoon

Sent: 3:06 pm

Subject: Hey good lookin ;)

Hey!

Just wanted to see how you are! I’m sorry about what happened at lunchtime. That was super petty and uncalled for. I really wanted to ask you out, and I hope I didn’t embarrass you too much by doing it in front of everyone.

I was wondering if you’d like to go out this Friday night after work? Say around 7? If you send me your address, I’ll pick you up.

Let me know!

Xoxo, Joon

You’re sure if you weren’t sitting in your tiny cubicle, you’d be screaming your lungs out.

The second the notification of the email came through, direct from the man of your desires himself, your body froze.

You re-read the message, over and over and over.

The winky emoji, the xoxo, the nickname ‘joon’. It’s all so much and makes the grin on your face threaten to split your lips in half.

Your fingers press the “FWD” button and you quickly send the message to Jimin, before you stand demurely, attempting to give off an air of professional confidence. You need to talk to Jimin, now.

As soon as you’re out of the eyesight of suspicious coworkers, you bolt down the hallway towards Human Resources. Your high heels click loudly on the tiled floor, but the sound doesn’t even register in your mind. All you can think about is Namjoon, the email, the press of his lips on your hand, the way his smile made you feel as if you could fly.

The door to HR swings open with your tight grip around the doorknob, and you open your mouth to call to Jimin, the lone employee, when you’re startled by the sight ahead of you.

Jimin sits on the edge of his expansive desk with his arms thrown around Jungkook’s neck and is clearly engaged in a deep, sensual kiss. At the sound of the door opening, they quickly break apart, with matching cherry red blushes on their cheeks and mused hair.

“Oh, shit,” you gasp.

The men are silent and you can’t help but giggle after a moment passes. “I’ll take it you two made up?”

Jungkook flashes you a dopey grin, one that gives you an answer, while Jimin smirks haughtily.

“Jungkook and I were just discussing, umm… his 401k.”

Jungkook looks at the blonde boy for a moment, confused, before he gets it. “Yeah! Totally. Retirement. Love to t-talk about it?”

You laugh out loud and walk towards the couple.

“I’m sure it was a titillating discussion,” you tease. “I have good news though, if it’s okay to interrupt this retirement planning session.”

Jimin nods and Jungkook rubs at the back of his neck awkwardly. “I guess I should leave?”

“It’s okay,” you smile. “I trust you.”

Jungkook smiles as if he’s just won the lottery. He looks between you and Jimin, face pure and excited like a puppy.

“What’s up?” Jimin asks as he moves to sit down at his desk.

“I forwarded you an email. Read it.”

Jimin nods and logs on to his posh computer, scrolling and clicking before narrowing his eyes and reading.

“Oh, my god.” Jimin’s face is shocked—it's written all over his features. “Namjoon asked you out?!”

Jungkook’s child-like grin turns into one of shock himself. He runs around to stand behind Jimin, eyes seeking over the words of the email.

“Well, hot damn,” Jungkook whistles. “He asked her out.”

Jimin exchanges a look with Jungkook, one that you’re not sure you can read. It quickly slips your mind, however, as you’re more focused on the task at hand.

“Can you come over tonight after work and help me pick out something to wear?” You ask excitedly.

Jimin smiles at you, a touch of sadness in his eyes, before he nods.

“Of course, babe,” he assures. “We’ll make sure you look nice and hot for the date with Mr. Kim.”

“Thank you!” You squeal as you wrap your arms around your best friend. He hugs you back before you scurry out of the office and back to your cubicle, itching to reply to the message.

Jimin sighs as the door to his office closes behind you.

“Kook, please don’t tell me he’s going to break her heart. He’s asking her out to make himself feel better about this, isn’t he?”

Jungkook slips his hand into Jimin’s and squeezes.

��I’ll find out, baby.”

Jimin smiles and nods appreciatively at the boy, before leaning up and kissing him.

Jungkook smiles against his lips, and is determined to ensure the young HR specialist never hates him again, even if he has to go behind his hyung’s back to ensure his new boyfriend’s happiness.

Jungkook has one mission now, and that’s ensuring Namjoon takes you on the greatest date known to man.

He grills Jimin with questions about what you like over dinner one night. Jimin finds it endearing that Jungkook is so eager to rectify his mistakes, but he still can’t help but worry that Namjoon is doing this to save face—not because he actually likes you.

“So, what does she like doing?” Jungkook asks as he spins his pasta around his chopsticks idly.

Jimin smiles as he takes a bite of the ramen Jungkook has thoughtfully prepared for their stay-at-home date.

“I’ve told you already! She’s easy to figure out.” Jimin pats Jungkook’s hand gently. “She loves cooking and baking, working out, daydreaming about Namjoon.”

“Cooking, hm,” Jungkook looks thoughtful as he takes a bite. “I think Namjoon can work with that. I’ll let him know!”

Jimin tries to hide the anxiety brewing in his stomach. He’s had to plaster on a fake smile for you while you tried on different outfits, wondering which will be the one to finally convince Namjoon he is the one for you. It’s hard to fake it around his boyfriend, too—but something tugs in his stomach that flares the cynical side of him.

Namjoon went from not knowing of your existence, to watching you get publicly embarrassed in a matter of minutes. While Namjoon isn’t a terrible guy, Jimin knows he doesn’t like anything to tarnish the gentleman reputation he’s built in the office. And as much as Jimin likes him, and surely likes his friend Jungkook, he can’t help but feel skeptical.

Jungkook hurriedly pulls out his phone and types away, letting his elder friend know of what he’s found out. Jimin swallows his food, and his pride, and hopes to god his growing cynicism is wrong.

Friday comes slower than you’d like. You wake up every day during the week, one day closer, and your eagerness hits peak levels. Namjoon sees you in the hallways during the week and winks at you, hands shoved in his tight slacks that make you salivate.

He emails you again Thursday afternoon, confirming things and getting your address. You reply in nanoseconds, uncaring how overeager you come off.

By the time your alarm clock rings on Friday morning, you’ve already been awake for 4 hours.

All you can do is daydream about the date, the way his hand fits into yours, the warmth of his eyes when he smiles at you.

It’s what fuels you through work.

You hope to god the numbers you’re attempting to work during the day come out right, because your mind is elsewhere for more than most of the day. There isn’t enough coffee in the world, but also your body feels as if you’ve overdosed on caffeine already.

The clock eeks towards 5:00 pm and you’re bolting out the door at 4:56 to head home and get ready for your date.

Jimin attempts to meet you before you leave, but your desk is cold and empty by the time he gets there.

He sighs and heads back towards his office to gather his things, waving bye to various coworkers as they file out of the corporate building.

He turns the corner towards his office but stops in his tracks as he sees Namjoon’s back to him, phone pressed to his ear.

“Baby, I’ll come over later tonight, okay?” Namjoon speaks into the phone.

Jimin feels his heart fall into the pit of his stomach. He retreats and hides behind a wall, ear carefully peeled to listen to the tall man’s conversation.

“I’m going on this date with that chick from work,” he sighs. “It won’t last more than a few hours. Poor girl has a crush on me and you know the usual assholes won’t leave her alone.”

Jimin bites his lip and clenches his fist. Namjoon thinks he means well, but he knows his suspicions have been confirmed, and he’s torn inside. He wants to tell you, to warn you not to get too invested in the man, but he also has no interest in popping the bubble you’ve been in since the day he asked you out.

Jimin lets it simmer for now. He decides he’ll monitor Namjoon and cut things off if it appears the man strings you along for fun.

Namjoon finishes his phone call with a promise to see whoever is on the other end of the phone later that night, and Jimin quickly pulls out his phone and fakes a conversation with no one when he hears the man approach.

“Oh, Kookie,” Jimin giggles, leaning against the wall casually. “I can’t wait to see you tonight, either, babe.”

Namjoon walks towards Jimin and makes eye contact with the HR specialist.

“Bye, Kook! See you tonight, baby.” Jimin finishes up the fake phone call as Namjoon arrives next to him, and he plasters on his best fake smile.

“Congrats on you and Jungkook,” he speaks sincerely.

Jimin hates how nice he is, hates that he’s a nice guy who gets too wrapped up in his own good looks and reputation.

“Thanks, Namjoon,” Jimin smiles uneasily. “You too! Have fun on your date tonight.”

Namjoon’s face lights up and Jimin desperately wishes he could go back in time to 30 seconds ago, before he heard the conversation, and believe that Namjoon truly wanted to date you.

“Thanks, should be fun, huh?” He winks and nudges Jimin, before he waves a goodbye and continues out the door.

Jimin pulls his phone out of his pocket and dials the number of his boyfriend.

“Hey, baby. We’ve got a problem.”

tag list! - @jimidol @aretha170 @dearbambideer

#kim namjoon smut #kim namjoon #bts smut #bts fics #namjoon smut #out of my league #knj #knj smut #rap monster smut #JOOOOOOOOOONie

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 3 years

Text

Dean’s Day

Summary: The reader is missing Dean one day. Jensen decides she doesn’t have to miss him at all and allows the reader, and even Dean, the opportunity to have a fun day together...

Pairing: Jensen x reader, Dean x reader

Square: Quote C “Shh, don’t worry, I’ll take very good care of you.”

Word Count: 1,500ish

Warnings: language, nudity

A/N: Written for @supernatural-jackles Tell Me A Story Bingo and all my Dean girls out there...

________

“Hey,” said Jensen. He leaned over the back of the lounger in the home office, resting his chin on top of your head. “Whatcha reading?”

“Fanfic,” you said, scrolling up on your tablet a smidge.

“Is it that smutty one that you sent me yesterday that has that epic cliffhanger?” he asked. “I’m still waiting for that chick to update.”

“Patience is a virtue. And no, this is a short story,” you said, bookmarking it when you got to the bottom. Jensen plucked it out of your hands before you knew it though and quickly was frowning.

“This is a finale rewrite,” he said, handing it back to you. “You still pissed over that ending huh.”

“Not as pissed as I was. But I just won’t ever like it. I just...don’t like to think that Dean never really got to live a normal safe life. It wasn’t fair to him.”

“No it wasn’t. I wish he got better,” he said. He smiled and sat down beside you, taking out his phone. He tapped for a moment before showing it to you, a mostly black image on the screen but a few words making your eyes widen. “Back in Black. I thought it was a fitting title for the reboot.”

“They’re remaking the show already?” you said. You scowled and he started to laugh. “It’s been less than a-“

“My reboot. Our reboot. Honey ain’t nobody else gonna do my boy justice,” he said. You took the phone out of his hands and stared at the image longer.

“Is that a devil’s trap in the fading?” you asked. He hummed and took the phone back. “Wait. I-”

“That’s enough spoilers for one day,” he said. He kissed your temple and you stood up, Jensen already heading out of the room. “So glad I didn’t tell you about Dean’s girlfriend.”

“Dean’s getting a girlfriend!” you said, bouncing up and down on your toes. “Like, a real relationship?”

“Maybe,” he said with a big ass smirk. “It’s all in pre-production right now. A select few are brainstorming ideas. But I’m not telling you more. I want you to be spoiler free and enjoy it like everybody else.”

“Spoiler free didn’t work out so well last time,” you said. He shrugged and rocked back on his heels. “Alright, alright. Spoiler free.”

“Awesome. Oh. I gotta duck out for like the rest of the day. I’ll catch you tonight,” he said.

“Uh,” you said, Jensen already gone. He headed upstairs and you looked around, trying to figure out what prank he was pulling on you today. Nothing seemed off and by the time you were upstairs and getting to your bedroom door, Jensen was stepping out in a different flannel and t shirt. “I mean I don’t mind if you have plans for the day. I-“

“I don’t got any plans sweetheart,” he said.

“You just said-“

“Who just said?” You raised an eyebrow, taking a beat for it all to click. That specific flannel with that specific shirt. That specific slight drop in his voice.

“Jensen.”

“Yeah he’s gonna be back later. He said you get me today to do with as you please,” he smirked.

“Jens-”

“Shh, don’t worry, I’ll take very good care of you.” He pressed a finger to your lips and pecked a quick kiss to your cheek. You stared at him and he clasped his hands behind his back, twirling his hips as he stood in place.

“Dean.”

“Yes?” he asked.

“So you’re Dean today,” you said. He hummed and nodded, lifting up onto his tip toes and falling back down. “And I can do whatever I want to you.”

“Yup,” he said, popping his p.

“Alright, Dean. How you still alive after that finale? Something to do with Back in Black I heard?” You grinned and he narrowed his eyes, a sliver of Jensen coming through.

“Oh that’s on a need to know basis sweetheart. Just know I ain’t gone anywhere,” he said. “Alive and kicking. You gonna play it that way today cause our mutual friend gave me permission to do as I please too if you start acting up.”

“Dean, sweetie,” you said. “You’re an even bigger bottom than Jensen. Let’s not pretend you aren’t.”

You patted his ass as you walked past, humming and slipping out of the room.

“Come on Dean. I have things I want to do with you today.”

“Oh Dean,” you called from where you lounged in your chair beside the pool. Dean waggled a few fingers from where he floated around on a mat in the water, eyes shut behind a pair of sunglasses. “Would you like to order some sandwiches for lunch? It’s supposed to rain soon.”

“Alright,” he said with a stretch.

“Head on up to the bathroom for me. I’ll be there in just a minute,” you said. He hummed and rolled off the float, swimming and dragging along the mat until he took it out and tossed it in the pool toy box tucked against the fence. He headed inside wrapped in his towels while you picked up a few things. You stopped in the kitchen and put in an order for an hour from then, heading on upstairs, the house darker with the clouds rolling in.

You found him in the bathroom, swim shorts and towel in the basket, halfway into the shower. A tsk left your lips and he froze, looking back over his shoulder.

“No, no,” you said. You went to the tub and turned on the water, getting it to a nice temperature and plugging it. Your bathing suit came off and you gathered up his shampoo and conditioner from the shower along with your body wash. “Dean.”

You held out a hand and he took it, allowing you to pull him into the rising water with you, a smidge of Jensen coming through as he realized what you were about to do, an experience he himself had had more than once when he got too stressed out.

“What’s up sweetheart?” he said, leaning closer as if he didn’t already know the answer.

“Close your eyes,” you said. He shut his and you turned him around, sliding him back against your chest. You wrapped one arm around his waist and he let out a sigh. “When’s the last time you took a bath Dean?”

“No idea. Probably a kid,” he said, resting his head back as you started to scoop water up and over his hair to get it wet. “You gonna wash my hair?”

“Yes I am. I like to wash Jensen’s hair sometimes. He’s not so good about relaxing and letting himself be taken care of every once in a while.” He was quiet, humming softly. “He’s better about it lately though.”

“He appreciates it,” he said. You leaned forward and hit off the water, grabbing his shampoo. You squirted some in your hands and put it on his head, working it into a lather. “Feels nice.”

“Good. A spa day never hurt anyone, especially retired hunters,” you said.

“You know, in the meantime, until you get a confirmation I mean, I think you should consider me alive and well.”

“Oh really? So what are you up to these days then?” you said, giving his scalp a good scrub that made him hum deeply.

“Been hanging with my boy a lot. Driving around. Golfing. Swimming. Boating. Concerts. He really loves you. He loves me too.”

“He’s pretty great,” you said.

“What about you sweetheart? You love me?”

“Yes I do.” You kissed his cheek and smiled. “What about you? You interested in any-“

“Sh. Back to bath cuddling,” he said.

“Alright Dean. Whatever you want today.”

“You have some pretty nice cuddles I gotta say,” he said late that night as you lay in bed together. His head was resting on your shoulder, arm over your waist. “Thanks for today. Never really got to have a girl to take care of me before.”

“I’m always here if you ever want that again. Until you can get a girlfriend in the future at least,” you said.

“I’ll take you up on that. I’m always here if you need me too sweetheart,” he said.

“Okay,” you said, kissing his temple. “Tell Jensen thanks for today.”

“I will. I’ll see you around soon. Later sweetheart,” he said, lifting his head and giving you a soft, slow kiss.

“Later Dean,” you said. You closed your eyes and heard him shift on the bed. “Hi Jensen.”

“Hi honey. How was your day?” he asked.

“Good,” you said, smushing your face into his chest. “I love you so much.”

“Take care of our boy?” he asked.

“Jay.”

“I know you did. I don’t know about you but I’m beat after that day of pampering,” he said.

“Honey. Thanks for that,” you said.

“I did it for him too,” he said. You hugged him and he returned it, snuggling into your side. “Night sweetheart.”

“Night Jens. And Dean.”

_______

#tell me a story bingo #SPN #supernatural #jensen x reader #dean xreader #jensen ackles #dean winchester #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfic #dean fanfic #jensen fanfic #jensen ackles x reader #dean winchester x reader

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adorethedistance · 3 years

Text

Baby Fever - Owen Joyner x Reader

JATP masterlist

Warnings: swearing, discussion of reproduction, a child (no-)

Words: 2502

Summary: You and Owen spend a day at the zoo babysitting Baby Shada, and her presence sparks conversation about adding a new presence of your very own.

A/n: This was written in like three hours and I’m exhausted it’s skimmed at best but this is just something I’ve had in my mind and as y’all know by now, writing fics is how I retire my dreamland scenarios of romance. Enjoy my brain giving 82% of her all :)

“You ready, little one?” I bite back a laugh when I hear Owen’s voice coo from the back seat. Owen and I had been wanting to plan a zoo date for the longest time, but never had the opportunity to until now; when Jer and Carolynn needed a well-deserved day of rest, and Charlie was back in Dieppe for the next month, that left Owen and me as the next in line to take care of 10-month-old baby Shada. The two parents hadn’t decided on a name until after she was born, so the rest of our friends got comfortable with referring to her as ‘baby Shada’ or ‘CJ’ short for ‘Care and Jer’s’ kid.

Owen and I left the house at 8:45 sharp to get to the park in a timely manner. We weren’t too concerned with arriving when the park opened seeing as it was a Wednesday morning in the middle of February. Children should be in school, non-actors should be in the office, and surely other young babies and new moms should be attending mommy and me yoga classes or something.

“Do you have the bag?” I ask, surveying the car for any loose items.

“Yeah, it’s on the floor. Do you want me to carry the bag or the baby first?”

“You babysit first. I can handle tickets.” Owen nods and gingerly unbuckles the car seat to scoop up the currently calm child and slip her into the black baby carrier we opted for instead of a stroller. I put on the backpack with all her baby items and some of our essential possessions, and together we walk to enter the park. CJ is smiling brightly as she takes in all the different sights and sounds of the entrance. The image is just too adorable, I have to make Owen stop under the giant sign to take a picture of the two of them. I send it to both parents as the first update of the day, knowing they won’t treasure the photo as much as I will, because they aren’t in love with Owen in the way that I am.

Owen and I have talked about kids before. Once, on our first date when he asked me if I had any names picked out, which I didn’t. And second, when I informed him we would be entrusted with the care of CJ the following week; it was when we began brainstorming activities to do with her that Owen brought up having our own kids. It took me by surprise that he used the word ‘when’ instead of ‘if’. A small language thing to pick up on, but a huge life thing to process. He talked about making memories with CJ and being the first ones to take her to the zoo, with the consent of her parents. Truth be told, I don’t love kids or the idea of kids in the way that Owen does, so I was a little hesitant to speak my mind. But I didn’t miss the way he held his hand on my stomach as we fell asleep that night. And I didn’t miss the hopeful glint in his eyes when I’d asked his opinion on a few names I liked the next morning.

“What do you wanna do first, CJ?” Owen’s question elicits an excited squeal from her as a response which makes the two of us laugh. I quickly snag a map from the front stand and survey our route options before I feel Owen’s right hand come to rest on my lower back. I glance up to see him peering at the map over my shoulder. My movement prompts him to face me and give me a soft, comforting smile. I feel like spending forever looking into Owen’s breathtaking eyes, but the baby strapped to his chest has other plans. She begins flailing wildly to convey all the excitement coursing through her little body. We laugh once more and Owen presses a quick kiss to her head, which messes up her hat’s placement on her head. I shake my head, stepping in front of my fiance, completely ignoring him. My tunnel vision hyperfocus is set on adjusting the brim of the bucket hat to protect baby Shada from the sun.

“There we go.” When I look back up Owen is staring at me with the softest closed mouth smile I’ve ever seen, “What?”

“Nothing. Where to, Mamacita?”

“Mamacita? Whatever. I say we take this path that way we can start with the elephants and condors, and that’ll take us to the polar bear cove.”

“Lead the way.”

Owen slips his hand in mine, interlacing our fingers and giving me an affirming squeeze. As we’re walking to the elephant exhibit, CJ’s happy mood means she must wave her tiny hand at every person we pass. Other parents with babies her same age, being the majority of the crowd that’s free on a Wednesday morning, smile and wave back to her. Along the front street, the initial entrance crowd begins to dwindle and there are fewer people for her to wave at. Then, a woman who’s probably in her late forties, early fifties sees CJ wave to her. The woman is wearing black pants, a soft maroon top, and a name tag that reads ‘Linda’. Judging by the fact that she gets to wear red instead of the familiar forest green, I can conclude she’s a higher up when it comes to her position here at the zoo.

“You guys are such a beautiful family.”

“Oh, we’re n-”

“Thank you!” Owen speaks over my refutation. The woman then begins to approach us, and I look up at my serious boyfriend in confusion. He whispers, “Let’s pretend. It’ll be fun.” I mean, I’m not much of an actor but I guess there’s a first time for everything.

“How old is she?”

“10 months,” he answers seamlessly, using the back of his index finger to lovingly stroke CJ’s round cheek.

“She is just so darling, I’m sure you two must be very proud. They grow so fast, you know? I remember having little ones running around all the time and suddenly they’re off to college. Is she your first child?”

“Yeah, she’s the only one for now.” For now? Wow Owen, when you create a world you really live in it.

“Well, enjoy it while it lasts. They’re only babies for so long.” Linda smiles down and CJ once more before bidding me and Owen goodbye.

“For now?” I ask, incredulously when the woman is out of earshot.

“Yeah,” he shrugs playfully, “CJ’s so well behaved I’m sure we can manage another one.”

“Uh-huh. Are you aware she’s not actually our child?” Owen sighs out a smile and takes my hand as he begins on our trek to the elephant enclosure. When he speaks again, I nearly miss it from how quiet he’s talking,

“S’wishful thinking.”

“What did you just say?” I’m curious to see if he’ll repeat it to my face.

“I said it’s wishful thinking.”

“To have a second child to our nonexistent first child?”

“No,” he nudges my shoulder with his own as we walk, “To have a child period.”

“Nice try. Your baby fever isn’t gonna rub off on me so easily.” He scoffs out a laugh,

“It’s still early. We’ve got the whole day to fix that.” Seamlessly pulling Owen to a stop, I don’t pause our conversation as I step in front of him. My gaze doesn’t meet his eyes as I straighten CJ’s hat once more.

“Well, bear in mind we’re basically on the clock here, and CJ is a tiny person before she’s a persuasion tactic.” I lunge one foot back to make sure the hat is even, and that the baby can still see from under it. When I deem her hat positioning satisfactory, CJ smiles up at me at the same time that paints Owen’s flushed face. He holds his hand straight out in front of his body for me to take, and when I do, he pulls me in to clasp both hands together and rest them on my lower back. Minimal visitors in the zoo is definitely a perk as Owen’s far more physically affectionate without others around. I rest my hands on the portion of his chest that isn’t occupied by CJ’s happy demeanor.

“I don’t know if I’m cut out to be the mothering type. I’m just not… good with kids.”

“I understand your reluctance… but I’m gonna get you on board by the end of the day.”

“Yeah okay, Joyner. Whatever you say.”

Owen smiles down at me with a love as infinite as the number of stars in the universe. CJ squeals between us and I babble back at her in a higher pitch than my usual speaking voice. She squawks again and we go back and forth like this for a little while until she sticks her tongue out at me in between a smile. My jaw drops in a surprised, amused, and simultaneously offended manner, and I take her chubby little baby foot in my hand and squeeze gently, causing her to screech through fits of giggling.

“When did you learn how to do that? Owen, did you-” The words die on my tongue when I see the expression on Owen’s face. He’s wholly enamored and yet so smug at the same time. I feel my face heat up a little bit; I don’t even have to ask what he’s thinking.

“‘I’m just not good with kids’ my ass.”

“There are impressionable ears around. And I do not sound like that.”

“She’s not gonna remember any of this in a week, and yes. You do.” I glare at Owen with an expression of intolerance but my facade is crumbled as I can’t mask the growing smile he elicits by mimicking my expression.

“Let’s go you two.”

After what felt like an eternity we’ve finally made it to the elephant exhibit. The herd of African elephants are spread across the enclosure, some playing in water, some feeding from hay baskets, and a baby closely following it’s mother as she walks across the paddock. When Owen appears beside me

“Do you need a break? We can switch off and you carry the bag.”

“Sure.” I set the baby backpack on the bench behind us and unbuckle the fastenings of the carrier to prop CJ on the side of my hip. As we wait for Owen to take the carrier off his body, I walk her up to the wooden railing that surrounds the elephants’ enclosure. Of course, the sight ahead excites her and she begins bouncing on my side as a means of conveying her feelings. She makes a sound that I interpret as an interrogative before pointing to the animals.

“You see the elephants, CJ?”

“Uh-huh.” She lifts her tiny baby hand into the air and waves the best she can at the elephants, none of which are even looking our way.

“Are we waving? Say ‘hi elephants’!” I wave with her and gauge her smile to be even bigger than when she’d stuck her tongue out two minutes ago.

“Hi ephants!” I freeze mid wave in shock. Did she just-?

“Did you just? Owen!”

“Yeah?” he calls from behind us, still getting all our things in order.

“Did Carolynn or Jeremy say what her first words were?”

“Uhhhh, no. They said she hasn’t been speaking words yet, just consonant sounds,” Owen leaves the items unattended seeing as there’s no one else around, “Why?”

“CJ. Say ‘hi elephants’!” I wave at the animals once more, praying that that wasn’t a fluke.

“Hi ephants.” Upon hearing her speak, Owen’s face holds the same expression as mine did just two seconds ago.

“Should we video it and send it to them or pretend it never happened so they can be the ones that hear her first words?”

“Take a video, or take a secret to our graves?” He pretends to weigh the options as if this is the most perilous decision we’ll ever make.

“You’re right, you’re right. Will you grab my phone for me?”

“Where is it?”

“My back pocket that the baby is currently sitting on.” I turn around to let Owen grab the device and unlock it for me.

“Should I just get you guys in the video or the elephants, too?”

“What are you talking about? Get in the video!” I scold him for trying to worm his way out of this memory. “Make yourself useful and revive your long lost vlogging skills.” Owen rolls his eyes but flips to the front facing camera and hits record all the same.

“Say ‘hi mom, hi dad’,” I direct CJ and she merely waves at me, not fully understanding the concept of vlogging at the ripe age of 10 months. “Update number 2: we’re at the elephant enclosure and CJ made some friends. Hey,” I speak quietly to capture her attention. “Can you say ‘hi elephants’?”

“Hi ephants!” She screams and then laughs, throwing her head back to make sure Owen is still present.

“A new word!” I cheer as Owen lowers my phone to stop the recording,

“New skill unlocked.” He hits stop and proceeds to trade me CJ for the phone for a quick second so I can send the video to the not exactly new parents.

“They’re gonna love this.” I click my phone off and tuck it back into my back pocket. Retrieving the baby carrier from the desolate bench, I slip it on to strap myself in before CJ. Once secured, I look up to take her from Owen but blink in surprise that they’re no longer standing in front of me. I turn slightly to my left to see CJ stumbling forward on wobbling legs whilst Owen keeps her standing. He removes his hands from her sides and allows her to grab a hold of both of his index fingers in either hand. Slowly, he walks her closer to where I’m standing one tiny step at a time.

The sight in front of me is so sweet there’s a strange feeling culminating in my chest. A micro trace of baby fever crosses my mind at the thought of Owen teaching our own baby to walk. The smile on his face is unlike anything I’ve seen before and the prospect of having kids suddenly becomes less dreary. I’ve always been afraid of being a bad parent, or messing up someone else’s life, but with Owen, all those fears disappear. Becoming a parent is no longer bleak; the thought of raising kids with someone as loving and enthusiastic as Owen, the world seems all that much brighter.

“Y/n,” he calls to get my attention, unaware I’ve been watching for the past few minutes. When he looks up from CJ’s tiny body, and recognizes the familiar ‘baby fever’ look in my eyes, he smiles and utters a simple, “I told you so.”

***

A/n: lawd help me I have been putting off so many requests to write self indulgent bs pls don’t hate me.

Taglist: @caitsymichelle13 @kaitlyn2907 @itz-jas @crybabyddl @kcd15 @kinda-really-lost @calamitykaty @morganayennefertyrell @n0wornever @dream-a-little-bigger-x @mrstodorooki @vicesvsvirturesfanfic @curlybrownhairedboys @amazinggracy @kaitieskidmore1 @asdfghjkl-fanfics @ghostlygreenbean @juliefromaustralia @merceret @jemimah-b99 @ifilwtmfc @thesweetestsinner @imsydneywalker @lovesanimals @thebloodthirstyvampress @bumbleberry-pie @losers-club6 @tefilovesreading @dmcfarland1 @joynerxmercer @kexrtiz @talk-on-the-street @phantompogues @konciousdreamer @sunsetcurvej @warmnesss0ul @celestialmolina @lilyjoyner

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marjansmarwani · 3 years

Text

trust that there will be light always waiting behind

8.4k || ao3

TK has gone out of his way to prove to Carlos that being a paramedic is every bit as dangerous as being a firefighter, it seems.

But Carlos will do whatever it takes to find him and bring him home safe, and he always will. Even if it means he needs to face some personal demons on the way. But it's worth it - he refuses to lose TK for anything. ------ A 2x08 speculative fic

All the kudos and thanks to @officereyes for not only convincing me to actually write this but for also brainstorming with me, a lot.

Will it happen like this? Probably not. But we can dream. All I can ask for is some quality Carlos and his dad content, and maybe Owen not being as shitty as he has been lately. But because I don't trust Fox to give us that, I wrote it.

Title from "Six" by Sleeping at Last

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

TK wasn’t sure how things had gone from normal to total nightmare in a matter of seconds, but here they were.

In this case “here” meant that the pregnant woman they were meant to be helping was not in fact, pregnant and that he and his team were now being held at gunpoint in an empty parking garage.

So yeah, total nightmare. And the day had started off so well.

He stood quietly, body tense with his hands up wishing he had been paying more attention; that he had noticed them coming from behind before they had gotten the drop on them. That he had noticed before he and his team were in danger. But he hadn’t and here they were: at gunpoint looking at a critically injured patient they were expected to save with only the gear in their medpacks. Which was especially bad, considering it seemed pretty clear that their survival depended on his.

He exchanged a glance with Nancy as he pulled open the bag to start grabbing gear, doing his best to shoot her a reassuring smile. All the while he couldn’t help but think about something Carlos had said when he had discussed becoming a paramedic with him. One of the pros, he had noted wryly as he planted a kiss on the top of TK’s head, was that at least his boyfriend being a paramedic instead of a firefighter would mean he would have to worry less. TK had rolled his eyes at the time but now he could say quite firmly that Carlos was wrong.

After all, he had never been held at gunpoint as a firefighter.

----------

A surprise party worked best when the person who is supposed to be surprised shows up, Carlos figured.

If it were anyone else, he might have been amused. But it was TK, who was supposed to be at his parent’s house for his surprise party 40 minutes ago. Tommy and Nancy were going to bring him by after shift but instead, none of them had shown up and Carlos couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

He could see the unease growing in the eyes of some of the others too as they made the transition from amused to concerned as the time ticked by. Carlos had tried calling TK almost a dozen times now, only to get his voicemail each time. He knew that Tommy and Nancy had gotten calls too, from Judd and Marjan respectively, with the same result. Now, 40 minutes later it had moved from a feeling to a fact: something was wrong. He could see Owen off to the side of the yard now, speaking lowly into his phone as he tried to get an update from dispatch. His expression was grim and when he ended the call Carlos crossed the yard towards him.

“Well?” he asked when he drew close enough, “what did they say?”

Owen shook his head, “They can’t reach the unit, and it hasn’t been in contact for over an hour.”

Carlos could feel the fear solidifying within him even as he asked the next question, “Were they able to tell you where?”

“I’m waiting on that info now.”

Even as he said it his phone dinged with an incoming text and Carlos craned his neck to read the address over Owen’s shoulder.

“That’s not too far,” he said, “if we leave now we should be there within the hour.” At Owen’s surprised look he raised an eyebrow, “What? You thought I was just going to stay here while you go look for them? Not likely.”

Owen nodded and managed a small smile, “Let’s go then. We have a paramedic team to find.”

--------

It took some negotiating but Tommy had managed to ultimately convince the people with guns that their friend would be better off receiving treatment in the ambulance rather than in the back of a van. As they packed up their supplies and got the patient ready to move to the ambulance TK’s mind was racing through all the implications. This move meant that they were planning on relocating, which meant that they would be leaving their last known location. Once they left this parking garage unless they were somehow able to check-in, dispatch would have no way of knowing where they were and they would be officially labeled as MIA.

Which was less than ideal, but did at least mean that someone would be looking for them. TK pushed the used gauze into a pile, taking care to make sure that his back was turned to their kidnappers as he reached for his neck and pulled at his necklace until the chain came undone. He slid it under the edge of the pile, where it would hopefully be spotted by anyone looking for clues. He looked up to see Nancy and Tommy both giving him curious looks. He met their eyes and mouthed, “Carlos.”

Once they were reported missing there was a zero percent chance that his boyfriend would not be involved in the search, he knew that without a doubt. It was subtle enough that it would hopefully pass their captors’ notice, but Carlos would recognize it instantly. It was something that would tell him that they had been here, and that they were in danger. Carlos would know that TK wouldn’t have parted with the pendant otherwise.

Nancy raised an eyebrow and Tommy shot him a quick smile as they finished their prep and got ready to move the patient. When they entered the ambulance and got the patient settled TK crossed to the cab and pulled himself into the driver’s seat, only to look down and get a sinking feeling. While traveling by ambulance would be ultimately better for the patient (and by extension, them) TK had also been banking on the fact that once in the ambulance there would be more opportunities to call for help.

Which was a hope quickly dashed when he saw that their radio had been ripped out, effectively eliminating the possibility of getting help that way. TK bit his lip and turned his eyes to the road in front of him as the armed man climbed into the cab beside him. “Drive,” he instructed plainly and TK complied, switching on the engine and shifting the vehicle into gear, acutely aware of the gun leveled at his chest the entire time. Getting shot was not an experience he had been looking forward to relieving ever again if he could help it.

“Where to?” he asked.

“Just drive and I direct you.”

TK nodded and slowly pulled forward, keeping his eyes trained on the road.

Maybe, just maybe these people were more reasonable than they seemed and maybe this wouldn’t end in disaster, TK thought to himself as he pulled out of the parking garage and headed to the right as instructed. They just need to keep everything calm until help arrived. Because it would, TK was sure of it.

--------

The ride there was filled with tense silence, their combined anxiety filling the car to capacity and leaving no room for words. Carlos kept an eye on the phone in his hand, the small blue dot tracing their location and showing their progress as they grew closer and closer to the destination flag. They were almost there. They would have answers soon, one way or another.

He spared a glance at Owen. The fire captain’s eyes were glued to the road and his hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles shining white against the black upholstery. His jaw was set and his expression was full of a panic Carlos was sure was reflected in his own face. He wondered if Owen was thinking the same thing: things had been going so well. Possibly too well, and now the universe was looking to even the score. Carlos hated the thought — TK deserved all the good things the world had to offer, in his opinion — but it was one he couldn’t help but wonder. He just hoped that no matter what, TK would be okay. No matter what the universe was trying to throw at them as long as he was safe at the end, Carlos could take it.

Reaching the parking garage had been the easy part, it turned out. He and Owen drove the levels in tense silence, each scanning for any clues, any signs of the missing paramedics. It wasn’t until he saw a black panel van parked haphazardly that Carlos broke the tense silence: “Stop the car!”

Owen did and Carlos was out his door before the car had even lurched to a complete stop. He ran to the van, heart sinking as he noticed the back doors hanging open. He approached with increased trepidation, not sure what he was hoping to find. When he reached the back and got his first look inside the van, he was pretty sure this wasn’t it.

Bloody gauze and other medical scraps littered the ground, along with three broken cell phones, all of which seemed to have been smashed. Carlos could feel dread building in his gut as he surveyed the destruction. He sensed Owen come up behind him, heard the low curse he let out at the scene.

“There’s no saying any of the blood is theirs,” he reminded Carlos as if he could read the frantic thoughts racing through his mind, each possibility worse than the last.

Carlos bit back a retort — there was no good in reminding Owen that there was no saying it wasn’t either — and was about to ask another question when he noticed something silver poking out from under one of the gauze scraps. He leaned forward to grab it, heart sinking when he pulled it out to reveal a very familiar necklace.

“Maybe,” he told Owen as he turned, holding up the necklace while the FDNY pendant glinting in the low light of the parking garage, “but they were definitely here.”

Carlos hadn’t been sure it was possible but he was certain he saw the fear in Owen’s eyes grow as he took the necklace from Carlos, running his thumb over the numbers engraved in the pendant. “He left this as a clue,” he said quietly, and Carlos nodded.

“Which probably means they were taken somewhere else and TK wanted us to know they were here.”

Owen nodded, pulling his gaze up from the necklace to meet Carlos’s eyes, “We need to find them.”

His voice was tinged in desperation, a feeling Carlos knew well. He nodded and reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone as he took another look at the mess in the back of the van. “We will,” he told Owen, “and I think I know someone that can help.”

------

Their destination had turned out to be an abandoned restaurant, shuttered by the pandemic. As workspaces went it wasn’t a bad one, if a little dusty, and they got their patient set up on a prep table in no time, falling into their usual rhythm as they returned to this relative familiarity. TK was currently retrieving supplies from one of their cases and running through the situation in his head, separating it into pros and cons.

Pro: they had come here in an ambulance with their house number clearly painted on it in broad daylight. Once people started looking it shouldn’t be too hard to spot.

Con: they were deep into a neighborhood known for being an entertainment district. While traffic had decreased significantly overall since the start of the pandemic it was nearly non-existent this early in the day. The odds of a casual observer being in the neighborhood were slim to none, which was not a thought that brought much comfort.

The man shouted at him to hurry up and TK quickly added another con to his list as he grabbed the last thing and crossed back to the table: their kidnappers were not reasonable people and every moment that passed seemed to push them just that much closer to the edge. Even as he thought it the woman edged closer to Nancy, causing her to tense as the cold metal of the gun was pressed against her side.

“Hey,” he said firmly, “if you want us to save your friend, you need to let us work. That means you and your guns should be at least 6 feet away. It’s a little hard to focus otherwise.”

The woman glanced at the man, who was studying TK. TK met his gaze steadily, not looking away until the man nodded and turned to his companion, “Go wait by the door, just in case. They’re not going anywhere.”

She nodded and TK could breathe easier as she stepped away from Nancy, who visibly relaxed and shot TK a grateful look. Tommy eyed him quickly before returning her focus to the patient. “I appreciate what you’re doing, Strand, but in the future maybe let’s try to not antagonize the criminals with guns, yeah?”

TK nodded as he worked, “Sorry Cap, I just really don’t like guns. Chalk it up to bad personal experience.”

Nancy grimaced at the reminder and Tommy nodded, “Then let's keep this calm, no one needs to get shot today. I’m not losing another member of my crew, you both got that?”

“Yes Cap,” TK and Nancy chorused, lapsing into silence as they worked. Unfortunately, with their supplies, there was only so much they could do. They had had a busy morning before this call had come in and no time to restock in between. They were running low on pretty much everything, and everything they had would have hardly been enough to repair the damage before them on a good day. But, despite everything, he was still a patient and he was still in need of treatment so they did what they always did: everything they could.

Even as they worked TK made sure to keep one eye on their kidnappers. With each passing minute, they seemed to get more and more restless, and increasingly desperate. The woman even seemed twitchy and TK vaguely wondered if she was going through withdrawal. All the signs were there and if she was that made their situation even worse. TK knew how that felt first hand and knew what it could do to a person’s mental state. The idea that she might be coming down from a high and was currently pointing a gun at them was less than ideal and he mentally added it to his con list.

Surprisingly, she wasn’t the one to crack first. TK was helping Captain Vega to do what they could to clean and secure the entry wound when the man stepped closer, waving the gun around as he shouted, “What is taking so long? We’ve been here too long, we need to get moving!”

“Do you want it done right or do you want it done fast?” Tommy asked evenly, her voice calm and level.

The man scowled at that, but stepped away, “Just, go as fast as you can.”

TK watched him walk away, glancing at the clock above the door and cursing before running his free hand across his face, the hand holding the gun tapping against his leg.

“He’s spiraling Cap,” TK noted softly, “we might need a plan if you want to avoid that whole one of us getting shot thing.”

“And we’ll find one,” Tommy agreed, “but for now we stick with the original one: do our jobs and keep calm.”

TK nodded tersely and continued with the task at hand. It was only a few more moments before his Captain gave a soft curse and he looked over to see her scowling at the bag next to her. “We’re out of saline,” she said in answer to his questioning look, “can you go see if there is any more in that bag by the door?”

TK nodded and crossed the bag laying on the ground next to the door they had entered. As he grew closer he noticed that the bag wasn’t the only thing by the door: a fire alarm, bright red against the white of the walls and shining like a beacon of hope as he drew closer, was situated on the wall just past the bag. If he could reach it and pull it, dispatch would be notified. A fire company and at least one APD unit would be called and the alarm might be enough of a distraction for them to get out of here and get somewhere safe until help arrived. He threw a quick glance over his shoulder to see that the two armed assailants were not watching him and made up his mind. He was going to pull it, and hope for the best. If it doesn’t work it’ll have been his idea and his idea alone — the rest of his team doesn't need to be involved in this. This was a stupid choice he could make for himself and by himself.

He stepped forward, hardly daring to breathe as he drew closer. He was just about to reach out his hand when he heard footsteps behind him, loud and fast. He turned in time to see a hand reaching for him, aiming to strike him with the side of the gun. He ducked, the hand missing his target as he dodged the blow. The man came for him again and TK managed to dodge the next blow as well, and the one after that.

They moved away from the wall and TK had the frantic thought that maybe he could get the gun away from him, maybe he could actually get the upper hand. He reached for it, throwing himself into the man’s space and reaching around for his arm. He leaned closer, so intent on his goal that he didn’t notice the man rummaging on the nearby shelf with his free hand. He didn’t notice his other hand at all until a sharp pain ripped through his side, causing him to release his grip on the other man involuntarily. He stumbled back, hands reaching blindly to the source of the pain coursing through his body. He felt a warm and sticky wetness and was about to lift his hand to examine it when he felt another sharp pain which caused his vision to go white before everything went black and he knew no more.

-----

Carlos hadn’t had to say too much before his dad had agreed to help out. One of the perks of being a Ranger, Gabriel reminded his son, was getting to choose the cases he focused on from time to time. He wasn’t sure if it was the words he had said or the tone of his voice that had done the convincing but within two minutes his dad had taken down the address and was on his way. He had said he was likely 10 minutes out but each one of those minutes seemed to stretch on endlessly.

He and Owen waited in tense silence, neither saying a word since Carlos had hung up the phone with the news that a Texas Ranger was on the case. Owen had raised an eyebrow but after Carlos clarified that it was his dad his expression had shifted to something unreadable and Carlos wondered how much Owen knew about his parental situation in regards to TK.

He didn’t have to wait long to find out, as it happened. About 4 minutes into their wait, after Owen had made a phone call to Gwyn and Carlos had sent out some updates to the team, Owen cleared his throat, turning to Carlos before he spoke.

“I don’t want to pry, Carlos, but TK mentioned something about you and your parents a few months ago and I just want to know where that stands. I don’t want to make things weird for you, but I also don’t want to accidentally reveal any information you’re not okay with.”

Carlos nodded, feeling a rush of appreciation for the older man’s tact as he responded, “They know I’m gay,” he told Owen plainly, “but they don’t know I’m in a relationship. They’ve never known about any of my relationships, we just don’t talk about it. When TK and I ran into them at the farmer’s market I introduced him as a friend and as far as they know that’s the truth.” Carlos turned to see Owen’s reaction, not sure what to expect. Anger maybe? Frustration or upset?

When he did turn he didn’t see any of those. Instead, the older man’s face was neutral as he nodded. “They won’t find out otherwise from me,” Owen promised him, and Carlos nodded his thanks, letting out a breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding. He was surprised, however, when Owen continued talking.

“I know it’s not my place to tell you how to interact with your parents,” he began, “but for what it’s worth, I would never want TK to keep something that was important to him from me because he was worried it might make me upset or uncomfortable. From everything you and TK have said about your parents, I wouldn’t be surprised if they felt the same way.”

Carlos could feel Owen’s gaze on him, steady and reassuring despite everything, and he nodded. He could feel Owen’s words rattling inside his head, but there was no way to process them right now, not when the fear of possibly losing TK and the worry that his danger-prone boyfriend was missing was so soundly occupying the forefront of his thoughts.

He was still trying to parse through it all when he heard the sound of a vehicle approaching. He stood as he recognized his dad’s truck, crossing to meet him as he pulled to a stop. “Thank you,” he told his dad as he stepped out, “I really appreciate this.”

“Anything for you, mijo,” his dad assured him with a smile, “all you have to do is ask. Which you rarely do, which tells me this is pretty important.”

There’s something else there, in his dad’s words and his expression, that tells Carlos that his dad knows there is something Carlos isn’t telling him, but he ignores it. It didn’t matter right now — nothing mattered except for finding TK. “Still,” he says instead before turning to Owen who has been hovering at the back of the van. “This is TK’s dad, Captain Owen Strand of the 126.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Captain,” Gabriel says with a nod, “I wish it were under better circumstances.”

“Likewise,” Owen replies quickly before diving right in. “Were you able to find out anything yet?”

“Actually yes,” Gabriel admitted and Carlos tensed at the expression on his dad’s face. It was the one he used when he tried to break bad news gently. “We think we may have identified the suspects. There was a bank robbery this morning and the suspects fled in a van matching the description Carlos gave me. There were three suspects — two who entered the bank and one getaway driver — and bank security thinks that they hit one of them while exchanging fire as they fled.”

There was so much information trying to squeeze into Carlos’s head now. None of it was good but one fact jumped out amongst the others. The suspects had exchanged fire with the security guards which meant…

“They’re armed,” he said tersely, the dread he had already been feeling threatening to overtake him now, “the suspects are armed.”

“And they needed the paramedics to treat their partner,” his dad agreed grimly.

“Do we know anything about what kind of shape the injured suspect was in?” Owen asked and Carlos could tell that his mind had gone to the same place his own had: if the paramedics were not able to save the injured bank robber, things didn’t look great for them. Their best hope was for a minor injury but judging by the amount of bloody gauze in the back of the van and the fact that it was a gunshot wound the chances for that were slim to non-existent.

Gabriel shook his head, “No, and the security cams in this parking garage are just for show, I already had someone check.”

So TK and his team were being held at gunpoint, being asked to provide medical care that should be done in a trauma room, and there was no way of saying where they had been taken or if they were okay. Carlos could feel his chest tighten in panic as the hopelessness of the situation set in.

“Are there any leads?” he asked, not even bothering to hide the desperation in his voice.

“Well, they did leave in an ambulance, and that’s not exactly subtle,” his dad reminded him bracingly. “We’ve put out a bulletin — every cop, sheriff, and ranger will be looking for it. We’ll find them, mjio.”

Carlos nodded because he didn’t trust himself to speak and because he desperately needed it to be true. They needed to find them, and TK needed to be okay. Nothing short of that would be enough.

----------

TK knew he was somewhere he shouldn’t be, but he couldn’t seem to do anything about it.

There were voices nearby, but TK couldn’t process any of them. Some of them sounded familiar but others were foreign; unknown with a hostile edge. He tried to open his eyes, to try and take stock of his surroundings but all he could see were vague and blurry shapes. He thought that someone called his name but he couldn’t bring himself to answer. The only thing he knew for sure was that he was in pain, and he was in danger.

The pull of the darkness was stronger than any fear or curiosity, however, and it washed back over him without hesitation, pulling him back under.

---------

Riding in his dad’s truck with his dad and Owen Strand would have been awkward on a good day but today, with his mind full of fear for TK and the tension of the secret between them all, it was unbearable. Carlos couldn’t stop his leg from bouncing anxiously against the floor — the exact same nervous tick he teased TK about on an almost daily basis. The irony wasn’t lost on him, or Owen it seemed as the man leaned forward from the back seat to put a steadying hand on his shoulder, empathetic eyes meeting his own in the rearview. Gabriel kept up a steady stream of one-sided chatter, undaunted by the lack of response from his traveling companions. Every once in a while his radio would crackle to life and Carlos could swear that he could feel his heart seize each and every time.

But every time it was the same: no news, no one had spotted the ambulance yet. Crime scene techs had scoured the van and surrounding area, pulling fingerprints and looking for anything else that could give them a lead on who these people were and where they may have gone. Carlos knew all too well that criminals, especially ones involved in crimes that took as much planning as a bank robbery did, were creatures of habit. If they had somewhere they felt was safe and secluded enough, they would go there. It was up to them to find it.

Carlos knew that his anxiety had not gone unnoticed by his father. He sent him surreptitious glances from time to time, in between radio updates and idle chatter. Finally, he asked a question: “You really care about this TK, don’t you?”

The opening was there, Carlos could see it. A part of his mind told him his dad must too, to open the door so plainly. But the fear of what could happen, of what he has convinced himself he stands to lose is too much. There was already so much fear in his heart from this nightmare he was trapped in, he can’t stand any more. So he nodded and simply answered, “Yeah, I do.”

He tried not to notice the disappointment and pity he could feel from all sides as Owen met his eyes again in the mirror. But his boyfriend’s father stayed silent as promised and Carlos looked away, turning his attention to the window instead. He knew he needed to tell them, he had been coming closer to making that decision on his own with each passing day. Now he just had to hope that they both survived this one and that there would still be something to tell at the end of it all.

His pessimistic spiral was interrupted by the familiar crackle of the radio. He listened absently as his dad grabbed it and at the words that came in response. At least he was only listening absently until some of the words processed in his mind: “Ambulance 126 has been spotted in an alley off W. Fourth St.”

His heart was working on beating its way out of his chest now. He sat upright, looking around frantically to get their bearings. They were only a few blocks east of West Fourth, they could be there in minutes. He relayed this to his dad who nodded before flipping on his lightbar and heading in the direction of the address provided. As they drove Carlos sent his desperate hopes out to the universe. Let them all be okay, let them actually be in or at least nearby the ambulance. Above all, let TK be safe.

As they sped through the city that was the thought that Carlos played on a loop in his head. Let TK be safe, and everything else would be fine

----------

TK came to awareness slowly and at first, the only thing he was truly aware of was the feeling of someone repeatedly tapping his cheek.

“Cut it out,” he whined and heard a relieved sigh in response.

“He’s awake,” a voice — Nancy? — declared and TK tried to open his eyes. It took several tries but he managed, painstakingly blinking them open to reveal the worried faces of his Captain and his partner staring down at him.

“Hey guys,” he said as he tried to pull himself into a sitting position, “why the long faces?”

Captain Vega looked unimpressed with his efforts and pushed him back down onto the ground. “Don’t try to play nice with me Strand after you did that. Of all the reckless, foolhardy things. I really thought you had more sense than that.”

TK frowned at her, trying to piece together all the uncategorized shapes and sensations floating through his hazy mind, “What do you…” he began, but broke off when a sharp pain ripped through his side and Nancy pressed gauze down onto his side, “oh.”

It was coming back now.

“Yeah, ‘oh,’” his Captain scoffed, “what were you thinking TK?”

“I was thinking that they were getting more and more unhinged the longer we were here and that if I had been able to pull the fire alarm dispatch would be notified and it would have given us enough of a distraction we could have maybe saved ourselves,” he said defensively, trying hard to sound assertive when even just the dim lights of the kitchen were causing explosions of pain in his head.

“And how did that go for you?”

“Not great,” he admitted. “How long was I out?”

“Not too long,” Nancy told him as she lifted up the gauze to check on his stab wound, “and I’ve got the bleeding slowed but this wound is pretty deep. Not to mention the knife did not look particularly sterile so this needs treatment, soon.” She nodded towards the abandoned blood-covered chef’s knife on the ground that the man must have grabbed during their scuffle, and TK groaned.

“So probable infection,” he muttered, “great.”

“Not to mention with the width of that knife likely some significant damage,” Tomy reminded him, her unimpressed look holding firm.

“It’s not like I had any way of knowing he was going to find a knife, to be fair.”

“To be fair, I would think the guns should have been enough of a deterrent,” Tommy countered. “Wasn’t getting shot once enough for you?”

TK shifted uncomfortably under his Captain’s gaze and was about to fire back a retort when Nancy interrupted, “Can you both knock it off? Yes, that was incredibly stupid TK and if you weren’t already hurt I probably would have hit you myself. But it was also pretty brave, Cap, and he meant well. Either way, arguing about it is not going to change the fact that we’re still being held hostage and TK is still hurt so maybe it would be best if you both stopped, for my sanity if nothing else.”

She gave them both a hard look and TK did his best approximation of a nod with his throbbing head, not eager to be on his partner’s bad side. Tommy nodded as well, though the look she gave TK promised that they would be revisiting this later, assuming there was a later. He cleared his throat and glanced towards the table where their patient was still laid out, “How is he?”

“Stable, for now,” Tommy answered, following his gaze. “He’s going to need more blood than we can give him though: his friends don’t know his blood type and we only have so much O neg on hand.”

TK nodded, reading in between the lines of what his Captain wasn’t saying: he didn’t have much longer and if he didn’t, neither did they. “What are the others up to?”

“Arguing,” Nancy said softly, “about what to do with us.”

TK turned his gaze to them and though he couldn’t hear their words, he had a feeling he knew what they were saying and it wasn’t good. His suspicions were confirmed a few moments later when they approached.

“That’s enough of that,” the man informed them, gesturing roughly to where Nancy was tending to TK’s stab wound, “get away from him.”

“He needs—” Nancy tried to argue, but TK put a hand on her arm and gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile before holding out a hand for the supplies.

“It’s okay,” he told her, “I can handle it from here.”

She didn’t look impressed or convinced, but a wave of the gun prompted her to hand them over and pull herself up from the floor, stepping in the direction indicated by the woman. The man looked down at TK with disdain, “You’re done causing trouble,” he announced, “Because if you do it again, I will start shooting, but I won’t be aiming at you. Got it?”

TK swallowed and nodded. What else could he really say to that? He wasn’t about to risk his team’s safety for anything.

“Good,” the man declared with a nod, “glad we’re on the same page.” He turned to Nancy and Tommy now, “Is he stable enough to be moved right now?”

“He’s as stable as we can make him with what we have on hand,” Tommy told him calmly.

“Then we’re moving,” he declared, “we have another van stashed nearby. We’re going to move out,” he gestured towards himself and his companion, “and we’re taking our friend and this one with us.”

When all eyes turned to him TK realized “this one” meant him with a start. Which was...less than ideal, but at least he would know that the other two were out of danger and could probably get help.

“Absolutely not,” Tommy said in her firmest tone, “he’s injured, he needs treatment.”

“Which is why I know he’ll be no trouble,” the man countered, “plus he’s a paramedic, isn’t he? He can treat himself. I’ll let you give him some supplies, I’m not unreasonable.”

TK could practically see Tommy’s anger rising from his position on the floor and he spoke up before his Captain could say anymore, “It’s okay Cap,” he said, hoping his voice sounded more sure out loud than it did to his own ears, “I’ll be fine.”

Tommy turned her gaze to him and was more likely than not going to tell him how many ways that was not happening, but any arguments she may have made were abruptly cut off by the sound of the door banging open and a barrage of police officers entering the scene, guns raised.

TK let himself sag against the wall in relief as he saw their two assailants surrounded and even more when he spotted a familiar gaze in the crowd, filled with fear and worry as it grew closer to him.

“Carlos,” he said quietly, managing to pull a small smile to his face.

“Hey Ty,” Carlos said roughly, reaching out to run a hand through his hair even as he surveyed him for damage. His eyes widened and his jaw clenched as he spotted the bloody gauze poking out from underneath his hand just above his hip.

He reached for it, but TK called his name softly before shaking his head ever so slightly, “leave it be, I’ll be fine. I’m just so happy to see you.”

Carlos looked like he wanted to argue but he bit his lip, turning instead to the crowd behind them. TK followed his gaze and froze when he spotted Gabriel Reyes amongst the officers. He pulled away from Carlos ever so slightly, “Your dad…” he began, but Carlos shook his head, gripping TK hands tighter, not letting him pull away.

“That doesn’t matter right now,” he told him, “all that matters is that you’re safe.”

TK had so many questions, but his head was swimming. He wasn’t sure if it was the blood loss or the head injury, but it was getting harder and harder to follow a fluid thought. He opened his mouth to try and ask any of them but was saved from the trouble of doing that by his dad appearing at his side, expression anxious as he kneeled down. He looked him over before calling over his shoulder for a medic and TK tried really hard to follow what was happening but it was becoming so much harder with each passing moment.

He was so disoriented he almost missed the commotion that erupted around them. All he knew was that Carlos’s hand was suddenly gone from his and he blinked several times, forcing himself to focus on what was happening around them. The woman had somehow managed to free herself of the officer cuffing her and had managed to grab her gun again. She was waving it frantically and shouting, but her words were a blur to TK. All he could focus on now was the fact that Carlos was closest to her, and that he was stepping closer to her.

That he was standing firmly between her and TK.

The rest of the world might be a blur of noise and light but this was clear as day. Carlos was stepping towards the woman, hands raised as he tried to speak calmly to her. But TK knew in his heart that he had been right about her state and knew that there would be no reasoning with her. But he also knew that Carlos would try, because that’s what Carlos did. He helped people, no matter what.

The next moment happened in a blink of an eye but TK saw it as if in slow motion. Carlos took a step forward, his soothing voice still speaking to her, still vibrating its way through the air as another sound erupted between them, eclipsing Carlos’s voice.

It was the sound of a gun firing and TK could do nothing but watch in horror as Carlos’s stride faltered before he stumbled. He could do nothing but try to call out his name with whatever breath he still had in his lungs as Carlos went down, and he could do nothing but feel his heart shatter when he didn’t get up.

TK tried to go to him, tried to push himself off the ground. He needed to help, he needed to save Carlos. But his body wouldn’t listen. The pain in his side sliced through him again with a vengeance and the last thing TK saw was Carlos’s unmoving body before his vision faded to black and he knew no more; left with the worst sight he had ever seen in his life as company as he fell into the darkness.

-------

Carlos woke slowly, bits and pieces of his surroundings making themselves known to him and helping to fill in the blanks in his mind: he was in the hospital, he had been hurt, he had been searching for TK…

And that was the thought that brought him back to consciousness. He opened his eyes with a gasp, feeling hands on him instantly. “TK,” he tried to ask, “is he…”

“Relax, mijo,” his dad told him soothingly, “TK is safe. He just woke up from his own surgery a short while ago. His dad assures me that he’s fine, and asking about you.”

Carlos took a deep breath and willed his heartbeat to slow. TK was alive, they had found him. He was hurt, but he was doing okay and Owen was with him. That did answer a lot of his questions, but there were still so many left. Starting with, “What happened?” he asked his dad.

Gabriel settled into the chair at the side of the bed, leaving a hand on Carlos’s arm as he studied him, “What do you remember, Carlos?”

“I remember TK and his team going missing, calling you, and finding them. After that, not much.”

Gabriel nodded and his hand on Carlos’s arm tightened, “One of the kidnappers, the woman, went a little crazy when your colleagues tried to bring her in. She freed herself from the officer’s trying to cuff her and you were closest. Well,” he amended, “you and TK. But you put yourself between them and tried to talk her down. It…” his dad broke off, clearing his throat and continuing with a thick voice, “it didn’t go well. You were shot, Carlos, right in front of me. I was so scared I was going to lose you, mijo. You cannot scare me like that, I am an old man.”

Despite it all, Carlos chuckled, “Please, you are not old dad. There are 20-year-olds older than you.”

His teasing didn’t put a dent into his father’s upset, and Carlos sobered, “I’m sorry,” he said instead, “that can’t have been easy. I know what it’s like to see someone you care about hurt like that. I’m sorry you had to see that, dad.”

Gabriel shook his head, leaning forward again, “You have nothing to apologize for Carlos,” he said firmly, “you only did what you thought was best, what you needed to do to protect the man you love.”

Carlos’s breath caught in his throat and his eyes widened, but his dad held his gaze, a small smile playing on his lips, “You are not subtle, mijo. I had a feeling since this all started, but the moment I saw you with him, I knew.”

“I’m sorry I kept this from you and mom,” Carlos apologized softly, “that I lied to you when we met at the Farmer’s Market.”

“Stop apologizing Carlos,” Gabriel instructed, his tone matching his son’s, “you have nothing to apologize for. If anyone should be apologizing I think it should be me. Clearly, I did something or said something that made you feel like you couldn’t share this and for that I am so, so sorry. I never wanted you to feel like you had to hide anything from us, especially not this. I’m...” he trailed off and Carlos was surprised to see tears in his dad’s eyes, “I’m just sorry,” Gabriel finished, “I need you to know that. That and the fact that both your mother and I love you so much, no matter what.”

“I do know that,” Carlos assured him, “I never doubted that for a second.”

His father smiled at him and Carlos could feel a weight that had been subtly resting on him for nearly 10 years lifted. He met his father’s eyes and returned the smile.

“Dad,” he said clearly, with a confidence that had been so many years coming, “I have a boyfriend. His name is TK Strand, and I love him. He means everything to me.”

“I’m happy for you Carlos,” his father told him, a soft smile covering his face, “you deserve nothing but the most wonderful love the world has to offer, and I hope this boy can give you that.”

“He can,” Carlos assured him, “he does.”

----------

TK was staring moodily at the dark ceiling of his hospital room. Yes, he was beyond grateful to have been rescued and that his teammates were safe. They had just been by actually — both women very clear that they would stab him themselves next time if he ever tried to do something so reckless again — and he had been happy to see them. Just as he had his parents and his friends, all who had stopped by before the doctor informed them all that he needed rest.

That was all wonderful and he was grateful, but the one person he wanted to see more than anyone else — that he needed to see — was in a room of his own on the other side of the hospital. He had been assured by multiple reliable sources that he was fine: awake and alert and recovering nicely from his gsw (fuck, Carlos had been shot. That was a thought and a memory that was going to haunt him for a while, he knew it). But he had been denied any and all requests of seeing him with his own eyes due to his concussion — hence the dark room as light still wreaked havoc on his head — and the antibiotics slowly dripping their way into his system in an effort to cut off any possible infection from the dirty knife blade before it had a chance to take root. Which, as a paramedic, he recognized was reasonable. If it were anyone else he would have recommended the same. But it wasn’t anyone else. It was him and it was Carlos, and TK needed to see him with his own eyes before he could believe that he was really alright.

Since that was beyond his control, that left him with pouting about it in the dark, which is what he intended to do about it for the foreseeable future.

A soft knock at his door interrupted his plans and when he turned his head in the direction of the door, his breath caught in his throat.

“Carlos,” he breathed, his name emerging from his lips like a prayer as the other man gave him a small, tired smile from his wheelchair in the door. Behind him stood his father, looking at TK with a smile that told him everything he needed to know.

He waited as Gabriel pushed the wheelchair into the room, reaching out for Carlos, taking his hand in his own as soon as they were close enough to touch. He moved to the side of the bed, leaning over and meeting Carlos in a soft, tender kiss that he hoped did something to relay even a portion of the emotions he was feeling. They pulled apart and he met Carlos’s eyes, studying them and him for any signs that he wasn’t okay, but his study was interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat. He looked up, startled, to see Carlos’s father watching them with a bemused expression.

“I will leave you both alone,” he promised, “but first I just wanted to take a moment to meet you properly, TK. I am very glad you are okay.”

“Thank you, sir,” TK said warmly, still clutching Carlos’s hand.

Gabriel shook his head, “None of that ‘sir’ business now,” he told him, “as far as I’m concerned we’re family now. Call me Gabriel, please.”

“Well Gabriel, TK said lightly, “I am happy to meet you, officially.”

He grinned at Carlos, he matched his expression without a second thought. Gabriel watched the pair of them, smile growing.

“I would love to talk more with you TK, take some time to get to know you, but I know when I’m not wanted so we’ll take care of that later. Just remember Carlos,” he told his son, voice suddenly firm, “you’re injured too. Don’t overdo it.”

“Yes dad, thanks.”

Gabriel gave them both a smile and with an affectionate squeeze of Carlos’s shoulder, he was gone.

“So,” TK said as he watched the older man walk away, “you told him.”

Carlos scoffed, “I didn’t have to. He spent all day with me, looking for you. He figured it out pretty quickly.” He paused here, swallowing thickly as he looked back at TK, “God Ty, I was so scared. I don’t know what I would have done…”

TK cut him off, pressing a hand against his face, “Hey, none of that. We’re both okay, and that’s what matters.”

But even as he said it, he could feel his voice waver. The last memory he had before blacking out of Carlos collapsing after being shot would be forever ingrained in his memories, a vision he was sure would come back to haunt him for many nights to come. Carlos leaned forward now, placing a hand on top of TK’s and pulling it away from his face so he could twist their fingers together.

“Same goes for you,” he said firmly, as if he knew where TK’s mind had gone. Because of course he did. It was Carlos, and TK knew there was no part of him that was a mystery to the other man.

“Hey, remember when you said being a Paramedic would be less dangerous than being a firefighter?” TK quipped in an attempt to lighten the mood and Carlos rolled his eyes.

“Only you could manage to prove that wrong,” Carlos fired back, his voice a blend of fondness and exasperation. “Maybe you can try not to keep proving that wrong though, for my sake?”

“I guess I could try,” TK said softly, “if only for you. I love you an awful lot, you know.”

Carlos leaned forward and pulled him into a kiss with more heat than before. It was warm and bright and so full of everything TK had been so afraid of losing for good. When they pulled apart, both breathing heavier and both leaning in, resting their foreheads on each other, Carlos responded, “I love you so much, Tyler Kennedy. Don’t you ever get kidnapped on me again.”

“I’ll do my best,” TK promised, “but I know that if I do, you’d come find me.”

“And I always will,” Carlos assured him, squeezing their linked hands, “no matter what.”

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tarlos #tarlos fic #911ls season 2 #911ls speculation #my writing #userkimmy #userjilly #userac #usermaximus #tuserpaige #userbones #jazzyjess #hierophvnts #maizsnex #buckybarnesalways #reyeslonestartag #immortalstrand

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heloisedaphnebrightmore · 4 years

Text

Not yet [Remus Lupin x Reader]

Title: Not yet Pairing: Remus Lupin x Black sister!Slytherin!Reader Word count: 1.8k Published: 24 August, 2020 Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore Notes: I wrote this little fic because Dee [ @obsessedwithrandomthings ] and I were brainstorming at 4am in the morning and I just couldn't get this idea out of my head ^^ Summary: You have been hiding your relationship with Remus from your brother, Sirius for the past year, fearing to lose the love of your life.

Harry Potter Characters Masterlist | Masterlists

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Being Sirius and Regulus' sister was anything but easy. You were always stuck between their feuds and acted as a peace maker. As a Slytherin you got less of your mother's constant nagging, but being one to oppose their views provided you with enough grief from them.

You were sitting in the Gryffindor common room, listening to your older brother and his friends planning their newest prank. Your eyes gazed over to Remus, who was seated beside you on the sofa, his attention completely given to the conversation.

The boy has stolen your heart long ago and he was well aware of it. You have been hiding your relationship from Sirius for about a year now, but you were still too scared to say anything. You knew they were best friends and you didn't want them to argue, let alone fight about your relationship. You wanted to show off Remus as your boyfriend, you wanted to scream to the world that he belonged to you. Your love for him was beyond what you could ever imagine and it hurt to not be able to tell others how much the sweet boy meant to you.

You watched as the corner of his eyes crinkled, whilst laughing at his friends' silly ideas. You couldn't take your eyes off his lips turning into a grin as he shook his head disapprovingly, when James offered you up to be the bait in their newest prank.

"Wait what?" You turned to the boy with a deep frown between your brows as you realised what the conversation was about.

"Oh, so you are here. I wasn't sure if you could hear us. You were rather concentrated on staring at Moony." He chuckled. You felt your face heat up and you were more than certain that you were blushing wildly.

"No, I was not." You let your head drop forward as you played with your hands awkwardly.

"Oh, yes you were. You were almost drooling." Peter joined in with a grin across his face.

"Oh hush, I was just lost in my thoughts." You attempted to lie, but your brother knew you better. He shook his head with a questioningly raised brow.

"I don't think so. Hey, Moony, I think Y/N fancies you." Sirius laughed at his comment, which earned a growling sound to leave your lungs.

"And what would you do if I did?" You asked your brother and for the first time, they all fell silent. You could feel Remus' questioning gaze on you, trying to figure out if you were just testing the waters or you really were to reveal your relationship.

Sirius' face seemed more disturbed, almost angered for some reason and that was exactly what you were scared of.

"Do you?" He asked in a warning tone, but you didn't reply. His brows furrowed, hoping for the silence to mean otherwise. "And you?" Sirius turned to Remus, who's face wasn't happy anymore. His expression was steel, no emotions displayed.

"Okay, let's change the subject." James tried to ease the tension.

"Not now, Prongs. I want to hear them out." He waved his friend off, whilst keeping his stare on your pair.

"Even if I had feelings for Remus, you wouldn't be the one I would share them with," You stood up abruptly.

"You are my sister and Remus is my best friend. I'm quite certain I have the right to know." He huffed, his tone clearly annoyed. You shook your head and scoffed at his demanding tone. That response was exactly why you felt the need to hide your love for Remus. You had a sense that your brother would be surely unhappy with your relationship and you weren't ready to give up Remus.

Yes, you knew if Sirius was to oppose your love, you would leave Remus in a heartbeat. You loved him endlessly, he was your everything and exactly because of that, you knew how much Remus needed his friends. You would never stand between them. The thought of you being separated from Remus broke your heart. You didn't even realise when a teardrop rolled down your face.

You left your dumbfounded brother behind and started off through the corridors to head to your own house. You were not ready to lose Remus. Not yet.

You felt a grip around your wrist and as you turned around, your eyes met two beautiful eyes full of sadness.

"Remus?" You questioned. He pulled you into his chest, embracing you, hiding his face in your hair. You could feel his breath on your neck sending shivers down your skin, causing goosebumps to appear.

"Sweetheart, please don't cry." He hushed you, cupping your face, removing the escaped tears with the tip of his thumbs. "We will sort this out." He attempted to calm you down in a reassuring tone. You never told him about the real reason why you felt the need to hide your relationship. "Let's just tell him. We don't need to hide it anymore. We have been together for over a year. He will understand it's not just a fling." He tried to convince you, but you just shook your head.

"No. I can't." You replied as a loud sob left your lungs.

"Why? What are we waiting for?" He furrowed his brows as you hid yourself further in his chest, wanting to feel his warmness against you. "Sweetheart, talk to me." He pulled your face out of his chest, tilting your face upwards to look up at him.

"I'm not ready to lose you yet." You sniffled. His eyes widened in surprise, unable to understand your way of thinking.

"Why would you?" He frowned, his head tilted.

"I'm sure Sirius wouldn't want us to be together and I would never stand between your friendship. I love you too much to see you suffer." With a swift movement you removed the tears staining your cheeks.

"I don't plan on leaving you, even if he is opposed to our relationship. He will come around, Y/N. He doesn't have a choice." He tried to argue your point, but you just shook your head for the hundredth time that day.

"And until then? You would lose a friend, someone who has been beside you since your first day of school. You would lose someone who has been supporting you through your hardships. You would lose your best friend. I don't want to carry that weight." You removed your eyes from his and sobbed into his chest.

"Darling, you need to stop seeing things that way. Sirius is my best friend and I expect him to understand that my love for you is real. I have loved you for years and finally you are mine. I am not planning on letting you go, nor am I planning on leaving you. If that knob head of a brother of yours is incapable of understanding that, then I will hammer it into his stupid head." Remus chuckled painfully as he kissed the top of your head.

"He understands." You heard a familiar voice and you immediately jumped back, a few steps away from Remus.

"How much have you heard?" You asked, heaving a shaky breath as your brother's face stayed emotionless.

"Since Remus caught you, everything." He replied. Your tears started falling faster, your vision completely blurred out. You weren't ready. You needed more time with Remus. You couldn't lose him just yet. Maybe just a few weeks, even just a few days. You couldn't let go of him. Not yet.

"I am so sorry Sirius. I know you are angry and I didn't plan to hide it for so long, but I'm not ready to lose him just yet. Please don't be mad at him." You were almost begging Sirius. A deep frown took over his forehead as he stepped closer, pulling you into a hug. You sobbed uncontrollably, heaviness still sitting on your shoulder, waiting for a reply.

"I love you, but you really are daft." He scoffed with a little chuckle leaving his lungs. You pulled out of his embrace, looking up into his grey eyes, searching for reassurance, that his words meant hope for you. "Am I really that bad of a brother?" He asked, his gaze wandering between your eyes.

"No, of course not." You shook your head quickly.

"Then why would you think of me like some kind of a monster, who doesn't let his sister be happy?" He raised a brow and you could feel yourself shrink under his heavy gaze.

"You always hated my boyfriends." You replied sheepishly.

"Because they didn't deserve you. But I know Remus like the back of my hand. I know he would take care of you better than anyone. Hell, better than me." He huffed with a small smile.

"So you are not mad?" You asked, waiting for a confirmation.

"Oh, I am." He replied and you could feel your heart sink deeper in sorrow. "I am mad, because you decided to hide it from me. Both my sister and my best friend have been lying to me for a whole year. That doesn't sit well with me." He shook his head, disapproving your behaviour.

"But you are not opposing us then." You questioned.

"Not at all. I am happy for you." He smiled sweetly and finally your tears stopped and a large, cheerful smile took over your face. "But you will have to make it up to me. You have been lying far too long." He shrugged as he let you go and pushed you into Remus's arms. "If you don't mind, I will be leaving, because I am certainly not interested in my best friend snogging my sister." He grimaced as he turned his back and walked away with a rather large grin across his face, which you couldn't see.

You turned to Remus, this time a happy smile displayed on your face as you gazed over your lover, carving his handsome features into your memory.

"You see, everything is just fine. You should give a bit more credit to your brother." Remus chuckled as he leaned down to you, giving you a tiny peck on your lips.

"I guess, you are right. I feel relieved." You grinned as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss, feeling lighter than ever.

Tags: @inkhearthes @bonziandfonzi @hufflefluff-writer @fific7 @haphazardhufflepuff @obsessedwithrandomthings @kalimagik @accio-rogers @peachesandpinks @harrypotter289

Notes: If you enjoyed it, don't forget to like and/or reblog the chapter. Thank you :)

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page150 · 3 years

Text

The Stain 🧼 Peter Parker x Reader

Request: None

Pronouns: None stated

Word count: 3430

Warnings: Mentions of glass shards

It was huge. Right above the famous Spider-Man logo and neon pink. Neon pink!

You stared at the stain in horror. In a few hours Peter was supposed to be on a stage in front of hundreds of people to accept an award and you had gotten a neon pink stain on his super suit.

You had been in the lab to start working on a new project, but Tony and Peter always left it in a mess. After spending two hours getting it organized you started working. It was hard to focus, though. The lab smelled bad and no matter how hard you complained about the darkness Tony didn’t want to install better lights.

You were mad you always had to clean up after them and that now you were starting late. It was just too much and when you added 35 ml of chlorine to your formula instead 30, the test tube you used exploded. Chunks of glass flew everywhere and just missed your face. Luckily you had ducked just in time but when you looked down you sighed at the spots of pink that were forming on your lab coat.

“Just what I need,” You mumbled. “I’ve always wanted to look like a pink dalmatian.”

But when you looked down to start picking up the large pieces of glass you felt the world stop as you realized some of the formula had splashed onto Peter’s suit which had been crumpled up on the floor.

“Shoot, shoot, shoot, shoot, no!” You shouted. You took off your googles and with a shaking hand picked up his suit. Uncrumpling it lo and behold, a bright pink stain where everyone could see it. You sat back down at the table and placed your head in your hands. This couldn’t be happening. Peter and Tony had spent hours customizing the suit and you ruined it.

Regular dye wouldn’t have affected the suit but this wasn’t dye. It was a combination of chemicals, the wrong combinations of chemicals. A 5ml difference doesn’t seem like a lot but in this sense it was everything. The formula could have made that area of the suit weaker or caused something to short circuit. You wanted to continue to sit there in your misery, allowing yourself to snowball the situation but there was still the ceremony to worry about.

You looked at your watch. The award ceremony was at 6 and you still needed to get dressed. It was 1:00pm on Saturday and you had 5 hours to get that stain out if you wanted to get to the place on time. You sat up and groaned.

“I have to- I have to call him. But he’s going to be so mad at me. This is so so so bad, stupid!” You whispered to yourself. You fought the urge to smack yourself on the forehead and picked up your phone. Dialing the numbers you thought about what you would say.

“Oh hey baby, you know that important event tonight that you have to dress up nice for. Well I ruined your suit! Yes, your super suit that you and your mentor worked on and you were super proud of.” That wouldn’t work, but before you could come up with another idea Peter answered the phone.

“Hey, baby!” He chimed. His voice instantly made you relax a bit.

“Hey, babe. Are you busy?” You replied nervously.

“Actually I am. I was just about to call you for a favor. I’m with Steve and training’s going a bit longer than expected and I still have to practice my speech. Can you put my suit and my tux near the front door. Tony said he’ll bring it to the place.”

“NO,” You shouted. “I- I can bring it when I arrive.” You felt your heart beat faster. If Tony came to get the suit now you wouldn’t have time to get the stain out. Peter sounded like he was thinking about it and you were hoping he would say yes. His voice came back over the phone.

“Okay then! I’ll send you the address once I’m done working out. I love you.”

“I love you too,” You mumbled out. Once you heard the ending click of the phone call you shot up.

The suit wasn't like a regular suit made out of just fabric. It was more like fabric that covered plastic that covered hundreds of wires. It wasn’t something that could be just washed out. To deep clean it you had to specifically get the fabric part off and you had no clue how to do that.

You grabbed the suit and ran up the stairs to the living room.

“Hey Jarvis!” You called out. Sprinting into “your room” you sat down at the computer and started doing some research. Your room was really one of the many spare rooms Tony had in the building that he let you sleep in when things ran late.

“Yes y/n?” Jarvis replied.

“Call Ned please and tell him it’s urgent. Oh! And can you set an alarm for 4:30pm. I was going to leave later but I have to get Peter’s suit to him at 5. Before the award ceremony starts at 6.”

“Of course. I’ll pair him to your computer once he answers.”

“Thank you!”

A few seconds later Ned’s face popped up in the corner of the computer screen. Before he got a word out you unloaded everything onto him. You told him how frustrated you were because you were having a bad day, how the suit was now stained and that Peter doesn’t know about it. When you finished he stared at you in shock.

“Wow y/n,” He gasped. “That’s uh, a lot.” He noticed your worried expression and gave a small smile.

“But, I can help! I’ve even helped him with some updates to the suit. We’ll get the stain out, you’ll get dressed, and then you’ll deliver the suit to him and everything will go fine, okay?”

You took a deep breath and nodded. Ned and Peter were both really good at calming people down.

After a few minutes of brainstorming ideas you moved to the kitchen and had Ned on a tablet, propped up against a leftover cereal box.

“Okay so I don’t think the formula will affect the internal composition of the suit, so that’s good. All we have to do is worry about getting the stain out and I already helped you disconnect the fabric from the plastic.” Ned chatted through the device. He watched as you came back into frame with the blue and red fabric.

“Yeah, I checked the wires and everything seems fine. I had Jarvis pull up some of Peter’s available notes about the suit but most of them are private. It’s been in the washer twice and the stain hasn’t budged so we’ll have to go with plan B.” You explained.

Plan B was to use fire to remove it. Fire should break up the molecules in the compound and have them float to the top of the fabric. Then all you would have to do is scrape off the remaining bits and then the suit was going to be fine. You placed a fire extinguisher and a bucket of water on the table.

“Jarvis, please put 911 on speed dial.” You yelled. Natasha’s old mini flamethrower was placed firmly in your hand and even Ned had backed away from his camera.

Flipping the switch, fire shot out from the tip and ran against the fabric of the suit. The stain seemed like it faded through the smoke but to your surprise once you turned off the flamethrower it was still there.

“Maybe once I start scrapping it it will go away.” You thought to yourself.

You grabbed a butter knife and began violently scrapping the neon pink imperfection. No matter how many times the silver knife went over the fabric, nothing changed.

“Look!” You cried. You held up the suit to Ned and he stared at it questionably. “I’m running out of time Ned!”

You sat down in anger, your head heading back in your hands.

“It’s okay y/n we still have time. How about you go get ready and when you come back we can try something else. I’ll even come with MJ to pick you up so we can get to the ceremony at 5. I think you would rather want to ride with us other than some random chauffeur.” He reassured.

“Thank you so much, call me when you get here and Jarvis will let you in.”

He said okay and hung up, leaving you in silence. You had to get this stain out before Peter saw or he would be furious. He would be embarrassed, humiliated. A superhero that can’t even have a clean suit, the news would eat him up! In a way you knew that you were overreacting but you were so stressed and this was another problem, YOU had to deal with.

You took a shower and slipped on the outfit that someone had arranged for you. You did your hair and even though you realized how good you looked you couldn’t seem to get excited. Suddenly Jarvis spoke, “y/n it is 4:30pm and I have just allowed Ned and MJ to come into the building. You have 30 minutes to get to the award ceremony at 5. Leaving an hour before it starts.”

“Thank you Jarvis!” You replied. When you left your room and headed back into the living room you saw Ned and MJ coming out of the elevator. The theme of the ceremony was black and white and Ned was wearing a cute black tux along with his “formal” fedora. MJ was wearing a gorgeous white dress that had a slit in the middle of her stomach. Her heels clapped against the floor as she ran towards you, embracing you in a big hug. Feeling her warmth and remembering what you had done made you almost want to cry.

“How are you doing? Well Ned told me how you’re doing but we’ll get the stain out.” You let out a long sigh.

“I don’t know what to do MJ. I wish I could go back in time and just forget about my stupid project.”

“It wasn’t stupid. It’s practically his fault for leaving his important suit on the floor. He’s always been gross. One time his room was so messy when we came over he had to make a web hammock attached to the ceiling so we could have somewhere to sit.”

You felt a smile creep onto your face, but you still didn’t feel completely better. In your head it made sense that it wasn’t your fault but you still felt like it was. In a way though, MJ had given you an idea.

“Wait! MJ, can you get the car running? This should only take a second.” Ned tossed her the keys and she walked back to the elevator. “Ned can you get the suit off the table and come with me to the lab? I have an idea!”

“To the lab? Cool!” Ned exclaimed. He grabbed the suit and followed you into the hallway to the lab. You punched the code in while Ned was ooing and awwing at the super suit in his arms. The door opened and you both went into the lab. The dim lights went on and on the floor was what you needed. You handed Ned some goggles and a lab coat and you put one on yourself.

“Peter and Tony don’t like to wear these but Tony always sets his clothes on fire so I think we need them.” You explain. You and Ned walked over to the table you had been working on earlier.

“This is where my test tube exploded. We don’t have much time but I think I know how to get the stain out. Can you place the fabric on the table?” Ned laid it on the table and backed away.

“If you're doing what I think you’re doing you’re either a genius or a future hospital patient.” He joked.

You felt a smile form on your face as you poured another 5ml of liquid nitrogen into a test tube.

“I added an extra 5ml to my formula last time and the glass bottle exploded. I think if I add another 5ml to the stain the molecules will have more space to dissolve, making the stain turn into a fume that will disappear.” You said excitedly.

“And if that doesn’t work what will happen?” Ned questioned.

“I have no clue.” You replied. And with that you fastened your googles, tightened your lab coat, and poured the liquid onto the stain. A loud hiss was made and to your surprise pink smoke started to rise from the fabric. It went on for a few seconds until the hissing stopped and you waved your hand over it to clear the smoke. Setting your googles on the table you peered down at the fabric.

There was no stain! You leaped up and Ned ran over to give you another hug.

“I can’t believe that worked!” Ned exclaimed! “I thought we were just going to have to lie to him. I already came up with two in my head!” You laughed at him and picked up the suit.

“Okay, it’ll dry in the car and you can reattach it to the plastic. We have 20 minutes to get to the ceremony!”

The both of you quickly took off your equipment and ran up the stairs, to the elevator, and out to the car that MJ had been waiting in. Once safely inside she drove off, fast enough that if you looked out the window for too long you would get sick. The minutes seemed to be passing by at twice their speed but you got to the ceremony with 5 minutes to spare and Peter was waiting for you at the entrance.

“Hey, baby! I got worried you forgot to get here an hour early. Wait are you okay?”

You thrusted his suit towards him and finally took a break. You rested your elbows on your thighs and tried to catch your breath. You had ran to get the suit to Peter and when MJ and Ned caught up they were also out of breath.

Peter stared at the 3 exhausted people in front of him, confused. “Uhh, hey MJ, hey Ned. What happened?” He slowly rubbed your back and worried you were going to throw up. “It’s okay, y/n, you got here on time. Everything’s okay, heck even if you came a hour late I think it would be hard for me to get mad at you.”

You gave a small smiled and stood up straight. He was so perfect. Peter gave you a smile and kissed you. You forgot about the suit, and the mess, and everything. It was like you two were in your own little word until Tony came in.

“Y/N, MJ, Ned! I’m glad you made it. Thanks for bringing the kid his suit. Of course he forgot it.” Instead of messing with his hair like usual, he gave him a pat on the back. “Where’s the tux?”

You felt your heart fall to your shoes. You forgot the tux! You had been so focused with the suit you-.

“Here you go.” MJ stated. She handed him the tux in its protective covering. “He was so busy doing the smooching I couldn’t hand it to you.” She gave you a wink and you grinned even more.

“Great, great!” Peter beamed. “I’ll put the tux on and meet you guys back here. Then I can show you around.” He gave you another kiss on the cheek and went with Tony to the dressing rooms. Once they were gone you turned to MJ.

“You’re a lifesaver MJ! And thank you Ned, I really couldn’t have done this without you.” You thanked. Both Ned and MJ gave you a smile.

“Don’t worry about it! I got to go down to the lab! And I’m at a ceremony with The Tony Stark!” Ned exclaimed. His hands were waving around frantically and kept going up to adjust his fedora.

“You’re welcome y/n, but I think you should tell Peter the truth. Maybe not all of it but if the lab is too messy for you to work maybe he can do something to fix it.” MJ added. You hadn’t thought about that, but this whole situation was a big wakeup call.

“I will,” You decided. “ Once the ceremony ends I’ll talk to him. Now, I just want to relax, though.” You all laughed and sat down in the chairs that were placed in the lobby.

The ceremony went great. Peter wore his tux and kept sneaking over to show you some new moves he learned. When the ceremony actually started he put on the Spider-Man suit in secret. The crowd was so loud when he came onto the stage you would have covered your ears, but you were too busy clapping with everyone. After it was over, Spider-Man “had to leave” but Peter returned. You pulled him off to the side.

“Can we talk?”

Peter looked at your worried expression and led you to an area where there weren't a lot of people. “Of course. I knew you looked bothered.”

You let out another sigh and pulled up the picture of the suit with the stain on it on your phone to show Peter.

“I ruined your suit earlier. I was in the lab working on something and I couldn’t see. I added too much of a chemical to my formula and the test tube exploded. Some of the formula went onto it.”

Peter looked at the picture while you looked at the floor. You could feel some tears forming in your eyes.

“I’m really sorry. I was able to get it out, but I still should have cleaned better before I started and I get I’m sorta new and I shouldn’t expect you to change how you and Tony work for me but it’s just so messy and dark and I can’t focus and-”

“Darling it’s okay, it’s okay, don’t cry.” Peter reassured, he pulled you into a hug and started to rub your back again in a circular motion. “I can’t believe you got the stain out. I wouldn’t have known what to do if I had gotten it there.” He joked. “But, you could have told me, I would have gone home to help you.” This time he let out a sigh. “It’s not your fault, though. I definitely should have put it back in its case.” You nodded and let out a small laugh. With each breath you could smell some of the cologne Tony probably sprayed on him. It was a good decision.

“I’ll clean up better and Tony will just have to manage. I’ll talk to him about it, okay? But the suit looks amazing, babe. You did a good job. I don’t think the logo has shined that bright since I got it. Plus Karen even told me that it felt fresher.”

You pulled away and looked at his eyes. “You’re the best, you know that?”

He flashed his famous smile, “I can’t be The Best if you're around. I can’t even compete.” He said sincerely.

“And neither of you two are the best in general because I am.” Tony added. You rolled your eyes at his comment. “How much of that did you hear?”

Tony frowned and shook his head. “Enough to wish I had left with Pepper when she said she was headed toward the Bar. And by-the-way neither of you get any ideas. I already notified the bartender I have four underaged guests that can only be served water and caprisuns.”

“What type of caprisuns?” You asked.

“Lemonade ones are the best.” Peter added.

“I don’t know ones.” Tony mocked. “But anyway y/n I hear your concerns and that was good problem solving skills you had. The suit did look great. I’ll work on getting you your own section in the lab. It’ll be nice and bright and you can keep it however clean you want it. So, you’ll be close to us while we’re working and I won’t have to listen to you and Peter compliment each other 100 times a day.”

You and Peter laughed and you felt his arm go around your waist. “That sounds great Mr. Stark, thank you.” You chimed.

Tony had already started to walk away but you heard him call out, “Stop calling me Mr. Stark and I’ll buy you your own building to work in.”

With that Peter grabbed your hand and you left the quiet area to where the after party was, to meet up with MJ and Ned.

Author’s Note: Wow first Peter Parker imagine and it’s my longest one. Is this a sign? jk anyways I hope yall enjoy this! I might rewrite it and change it to first person because I keep getting confused lol. I think I should start getting into Marvel as this was really fun to write. Please like, follow, and remember requests are open! I hope you have a wonderful day ~c’ k

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hongnanglen-arina · 3 years

Text

The Ulzzang Project - Part 3 | Jeon Wonwoo

Read part 2 Read part 4

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Genre: a little fluff and angst, crack

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x female reader

Warnings: well, not too angsty I guess but I didn’t re-read.. oh and alcohol consuming

Words: 3.3k

A/N: Hello hello! Sorry for the rather long wait! I thought it could spice it up if someone else is thrown into the pot hehehe (: as always, I’d be happy to know your thoughts about it. Please remember that English isn’t my first language so excuse my grammar ♡

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You tapped the pencil against your chin. Working on a presentation wasn’t your thing and especially the beginning was the most stressful part, always. A brainstorming sketch was on a sheet of paper in front of you and between the person you were with. It was nice to work on it at a public place and you loved to have cafe sounds in the background. That’s why you suggested this cafe in the first place. You’ve already finished on a couple of presentations here and the vibe this cafe was giving you helped a lot. But you weren’t sure if it was the right decision today - for this presentation. You couldn’t hear the familiar sounds of people talking and relaxing with the coffee machine preparing the next order. All you could hear was whispering. Loud whispering. And you could feel the stares shooting holes in your body from every angle possible.

“We should write down some notes for the first part. Hasn’t be too much. Like in 20 minutes we compare our notes and decide what’s best?” You tried to ignore the glares you got, looking at the boy in front of you.

Yoon Jeonghan.

Actually you liked your professor but his idea to team you up with Jeonghan for this statistics project was stupid. All your prayers that he would change his mind or that Jeonghan would complain so much that you would get a different partner were useless. After he saw who you were, he even insisted doing it with you and you didn’t understand why.

So you just settled with the thought of doing it. Not that you had another option anyways.

But all those girls who were watching you two made you uncomfortable. Very uncomfortable.

Your project partner leaned back. “I’m fine if you start. I’m sure your pretty head is very useful for this.”

Somehow it didn’t surprise you. His attitude was exactly like you had assumed after everything you head… and also after seeing his Instagram. Was this boy really of no use? Tall and handsome but an asshole? Although you weren’t surprised, you still had some hope that not all good looking people were bad. Best example, your best friend Wonwoo.

The thought of Wonwoo caused you to sigh. Yesterday at this time, you were sitting outside on a bench with your friends. You could even see the place from where you were stuck with Jeonghan if you looked outside the window. After you discovered the new post with Wonwoo’s text, your break was over and everyone left for their next subject. Up until now you weren’t sure what he meant with it. It had to be a joke. Just something to gain more followers and likes. Something fitting for your fake couple page. But why did it make your heart skip a beat when you first saw it? You didn’t know what to say to your best friend or how to address the topic so you thought you would let him take the first step, which hadn’t happened. It made you angry for no reason.

You sighed again. This time louder.

“Are you mad at me?”

Jeonghan’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts. “What?”

“You didn’t react when I was talking to you so I got worried.”

Quickly lowering your gaze, you flipped around an empty page, readjusting the pencil in your hand. “Oh no no, don’t worry. Everything’s okay. I already have some ideas for our project. Just give me a moment.”

The person in front of you smiled widely at your reply, which you missed out on because you were already scribbling down while your brain was working and distracting itself from your male best friend.

“Oh great! I can leave then, yes? Thank you y/n. We can discuss our project later. Maybe tomorrow, same time same place?” He got up from his chair and was about to turn around with a ‘bye’ when you stood up as well, calling his name.

“Yoon Jeonghan, let me remind you. This is a group project. A group project is supposed to be done as a group. In a group. You may decide who will focus on which part but what you just said sounded as if you expect me to do everything alone. Please tell me I’m wrong.”

He turned around to face you again, the smile still on his lips. “I knew your pretty head was useful. You got it absolutely right. I’m looking forward to the outcome. See you tomorrow then, y/n!”

He really was an asshole.

“Stop you little shit!”

Suddenly it was quiet around you but you didn’t care. You were angry.

“The fact that I was writing and actually trying to be productive wasn’t a hint for you to stand up and go away. I want to do this because I have to. No matter if you’re my partner or someone else. Knowing you better shows me that I would probably be happier with someone else that’s not as ignorant and dumb as you. I really hoped you would prove me wrong but it’s just the looks that you have. Everything else is bad. Anyways, if you leave now, I will talk to our prof and tell him about it. I won’t do it with you if you let me work alone. I will give you one more chance or I’m the one that’s off. So?”

Jeonghan looked at you with wide eyes.

You were the first girl. The first that wasn’t following him. That wasn’t only agreeing to everything he said. The first girl that wasn’t head over heels for him.

You were different.

“So?” You repeated, slightly impatient. There were quite some places you would rather be right now than here with Yoon Jeonghan and is admires who were glaring at you for not treating him as the hottest and most wanted man on campus. Who came up with this nonsense anyways!?

“What.. do you… want me to do?” He finally asked you and the way he was standing in front of you seemed as if he was confused, scared even.

“The presentation. It has to be done. And for that, you and I will sit here and work on it.”

He slowly flops down on his chair again and for once you thought he looked cute but you quickly shook the thought off before sitting down again as well, taking your pencil again.

As you wanted to continue writing, you heard him clear his throat, causing you to look up from your paper. “What is it?”

“… can you give me a pen and paper?”

It took you a second until you gave him the things he asked you for. Maybe he had nothing to write. Whatever the reason, you felt great that you made the ‘holy’ Jeonghan work on the project. Maybe he wasn’t an asshole after all.

—

You sat on the floor, back resting against you bed as you took a sip of the new smoothie your mother made. There were too many ingredients, you could only remember it had apple, chia, spinach and banana in it.

Without noticing, your sleepy mind trailed from how you were working on your presentation with Jeonghan to the boy from your shared Instagram account. There was still no message on your phone from him. Did he just write it underneath the post without a meaning? Were you the only one who was trying to read between the lines to understand what he might wanted to say?

Absentmindedly you grabbed your phone to catch up with the things you missed while being with Jeonghan the whole day after your classes. After seeing again that there was no new message from Wonwoo in you chat app - only one from Chan, asking you if you had seen the new choreography video of a dance team you two liked - you changed the app and scrolled through your Instagram feed. Nothing interesting nor new. On Wonwoo’s personal page was no update. On your shared one was no update. Bored, you clicked the like button on a photo of Dokyeom and his selfmade pizza which looked amazing and a photo of Hoshi’s tiger plushie with the text ‘horanghae’.

Sighing, the thought of your friend still bothered you. It unusual for him to be this quiet all day. Maybe you should take the first step and just start a conversation? Casually? There was still a high possibility that he wrote the sentence without a meaning so why not say hi?

[Y/n] Hey, what’s up?

Was that casual enough?

2 Minutes passed. No response.

5 Minutes passed. Still no response.

“Why is he like this?!” You whined, letting yourself fall to the side so you were lying on the floor when your mother came into your room after knocking twice.

“Are you alright dear? Are you exhausted from uni? Or is my smoothie bad?? You can tell me honestly, I won’t get mad, I promise.”

You pouted and mouthed ‘uni’ and she nodded understandingly. “Rest then. You know, if you need anything, tell me. I can cook your favorite dish or prepare dessert. I can read you a book or cuddle you to sleep-“

“Mom!”

She laughed and waved apologetic. “Understand. My little girl isn’t so little anymore. Just call whenever you need me. I’ll be in the living room watching my drama.”

You thanked her and watched her leave your room.

Automatically you looked at your phone again, opening Instagram. While you were working on your presentation with Jeonghan, you two exchanged numbers and followed each other on the app. You had an actually nice conversation and got to know him a little better. He wasn’t so snobbish as you though he would be.

Your eyes were glued on Jeonghan’s update from 2 hours ago. It was a photo of you how you were concentrated on writing down your part from your project, two milkshakes in front of you. His had less while your own drink was almost full and untouched because you had a rush of ideas and decided to write them down before it disappeared. You didn’t know he took a photo. That’s when you saw the text he added to the photo.

Interesting. She might become a candidate (:

A candidate for what?? Cocking your head to the side, you wanted to know what he meant with it when your phone chimed, telling you about a new message. When you saw that it was from Wonwoo, your fingers tapped faster to read it.

[Wonwoo] Bored to death. You?

[Y/n] Same. Park in 30? Crave ice cream…

Maybe you replied too fast but you didn’t care. You were just happy he was talking to you even though you weren’t sure why you were worried he wouldn’t. There was no issue between the two of you or was it?

[Wonwoo] Deal. See ya

Although you were relieved he replied and even agreed to seeing you but something in you was still worried for some reason. But you couldn’t deny the little excitement in the back of your mind.

After finishing your smoothie and making your mother happy with it, you complimented her before leaving the apartment to meet up with Wonwoo. Even though it was dark outside, the fact that you were going to meet your childhood friend made your mother worry less. She knew that he was a good person and if something scary would occur, he would defend or help you first.

With the familiar cheers and wishes that ‘your mother would be overly happy if you two would finally get together as a couple’, you left your home and made your way to the little park. You wondered if Wonwoo was already there.

While you were walking, your thoughts traveled to everything that happened over the last few days.

Last weekend, when you decided to start your shared Instagram and act as an ulzzang couple just to see how many likes and followers you could get within a month. The seemingly normal texts under his posts that made your heart skip a beat. The way he babied you more than once which he had never done before. The overall vide he gave was different. You could still recognize your bestie but there was something that had changed but you weren’t able to tell why that was or what it caused.

Then to uni. Your presentation with the infamous Yoon Jeonghan who you disliked from the second you were introduced to him through your friends and their knowledge about him. He was too handsome that he just had to be arrogant and ignorant. It turned out that he is from the outside but strangely after you scolded him in front of everyone else in the cafe, he was very nice and cooperative all of a sudden. He even told you that he would work on the middle part and you could go through it tomorrow. You still didn’t fully believe him so you might prepare something in case it was all a lie. But you could do that tomorrow. Today your priority was Wonwoo.

When you arrived at the park, he wasn’t there. Maybe you were too happy and walked too fast?

Looking around and making sure that he really wasn’t around, you slowly made your way to the swing and sat down, slightly moving back and forth with your feet on the ground and hands around the chains on each side. You looked down when out of nowhere fear crept up your spine.

Oh your friends: the ‘what if’s’.

What if he was disappointed in you for whatever reason? Maybe for not texting him sooner? What if he was mad at you for not using your shared account? At least not as often as he did? What if he wasn’t happy about Jeonghan teaming up with you for the presentation? But then again, it wasn’t your decision. He couldn’t blame you.

You shook your head. Those questions should go away.

You knew why they have appeared.

Because you missed your best friend.

And combined with the fact that you felt his attitude was different over the last week just added to your pile of anxiety.

A soft tap on your shoulder caused you to snap out of your thoughts. Wonwoo was standing beside you with melon ice cream in his hands, offering you one.

“Heard you wanted ice cream?”

Immediately, you smiled at him, a warmth rushing through your body as you finally saw your friend again and him paying attention to you intensified the relieve.

“Thank you.”

You took one and started eating it while Wonwoo sat down on the other swing, both of you enjoying your ice cream in silence. The noises of your surroundings were kind of far away from you, looking for words to start a conversation.

Once you finished, you looked at the boy beside you, just to notice that he was looking at you too.

“I missed you,” you said in unison and the moment your brains progressed it, you two looked away sheepishly.

It was stupid, you had to admit. It only had been a little over 1 day that you haven’t seen your friend but because of the overall situation, you were were like this.

Again, you were looking for words to form a sentence and to distract yourself from the red cheeks. “W-what were you doing when I sent the message?”

His head turned back to you when he started to talk, “I was playing an online game but it wasn’t my day today. They always killed me with ease. Wherever I was hiding, whatever I thought was a good tactic, they found me and ended my sad life. Your message helped. What about you?”

“Did nothing. Well, complimenting my mother on her new smoothie?”

Suddenly Wonwoo was chuckling. “Sometimes I envy you for not living alone as I do.”

“You’re not alone. I’m literally always at your place.”

Your reply made Wonwoo sigh and you tried to figure out why he was feeling down all of a sudden, waiting for him to answer your silent question but he asked you something else, changing the topic.

“How is your presentation going?”

It took you by surprise but you decided to give him an honest answer, just being happy to have a topic to talk about.

“At first I hated Jeonghan but he’s okay. Really. After I got angry at him, he actually worked on it with me.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, he even volunteered to prepare the middle part. You know, the most important part of the whole thing. He also listened to me and-“

“You got angry at him?”

“U-uh… yeah. That dude wanted to leave me alone and don’t help with it. Can you imagine? He really thought he could get away with it. But not with me, ha!”

He chuckled again, seemingly approving your previous outburst of anger with the other.

While you were watching Wonwoo from the side and admiring his crunched laughter, you remembered his Instagram post and started chewing on the inside of your cheek.

Wonwoo didn’t notice your nervousness as he was shaking his head at the thought of you making a scene in front of his fanclub. He wished he would have seen it happening. Something told him that it wouldn’t be the only occasion for you to lose your temper with him and that he may see it the next time if he sticked to you more often.

“Wanna skip tomorrow’s morning lectures with me?”

The question left your lips faster than you could think and surprised you as well as him when you met Wonwoo’s expression, but his was quickly followed by a smirk.

“Do I smell a mario kart session with greasy food?”

“Yep.”

Hearing his amused snort made you happy for some reason and when he got up and held his hand out for you to grab and follow him, you did as he wordlessly asked and went to his place, hand in hand. Like you often did.

It seemed as if your anxiety was for nothing. He was the same when you arrived at his place, got out of your shoes and offered you a can of beer. He was the same when he asked you what you wanted to eat. He was even the same when he took the last bite of your dish without asking beforehand. And he was the same when he started a fight when he lost against you at mario kart 4 matches in a row. You felt as if it had been a decade since you laughed as much.

You made a mental note not to think too much again when it comes to your best friend.

After a while you two changed to more comfortable clothes as you opened your third can of beer, Wonwoo was on his fourth. That was exactly what you needed. Although it wasn’t the best decision but numbing your previous doubts and fears and enjoying the company of your bestie was the best right now.

“I love spending time with you y/n.”

Thanks to the alcohol in your system, you weren’t too shy to react to his words and felt kind of adventurous. “Thanks for the kind words but to be honest I expected to hear that you want to take your sexy photos now that I’m drunk.”

“Ha ha ah… you’re not completely wrong though.” Wonwoo readjusted his glasses and took a sip of his beer when you said, “Okay. let’s do this.” Your friend nearly choked on the alcohol but asked again what you just said, just in case he heard wrong.

“I said, let’s take those photos for our Instagram.”

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armageddonouttahere · 3 years

Text

Consolation

Title: Consolation

Summary: Takes place after “Putting Others First”, in which Roman sinks into his room and doesn’t leave for a while. Logan is the only one not preoccupied enough to come and lure him out, but in this he has to face emotions he’s been putting on the backburner for a long time.

Pairings: Romantic Logince, background platonic Moxiety

Warnings: Crying, self-doubt, insecurity, negative thinking

Rating: General Audiences

Genres: Fluff, Hurt/comfort (with a happy ending)

Word count: 2,500

A/N: Here we are, at last! I had cranked out the last couple paragraphs of this fic just an hour ago, and I’m very excited. This had gone from a little Logince comfort drabble to a fic of 2,500 words (exactly, though I didn’t do that on purpose). I hope anyone who sees this enjoys it, and everyone who’s been waiting for it likes it even more, after all this suspense. Taglist will be at the end, under the cut.

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Logan was at a loss. The aftermath of Janus’ name reveal left all the sides shaken and fragile. Especially Roman. Logan wanted to help, he wanted to be able to tell Roman with certainty that he will be okay, that everything will be alright. Logan needed to be able to look Roman in the eyes and know that the words that came out of his mouth are truths.

But he can’t. So, Logan focused on the problems he could solve. He endeavoured to keep Thomas in working order, though on the inside he may be struggling. Virgil seemed to have taken a backseat, focused on watching over Patton. The most he’d seen of the anxious side was weekly updates and reports on Patton’s condition, how he was feeling, which Logan appreciated greatly. He needed all the positive data he could get.

As the logical side, Logan was somewhat attuned with the other sides’ reasoning and thought process. He needed this information to be accurate in order to know how Thomas works, how he functions. He knew how the other sides try to solve problems, how they understand things. When something or someone throws a wrench in the system it’s one of the few things that affected Logan physically.

In the aftermath after Roman sank out Logan had migraines for weeks. Roman’s flawed logic- his flawed perception of himself- is the one thing that has caused Logan the most physical pain. Roman’s view of himself shifted so drastically to the negative end that Logan felt… sorry? For him?

He felt… he- he felt. Roman made him feel. What did he feel, exactly? Empathy? It was true that Roman’s emotional pain gave Logan physical pain, but the shared anguish went further than that. Logan knew what it’s like to feel wrong, to feel unheard. He related to Roman. He knew what he’s going through.

Their opinions may differ, but Roman still needed consolation. Logan won’t further his belief that Janus is the villain, but Roman doesn’t need a scolding or a lecture, skewed though his viewpoint of Janus may be. He needed someone to listen to him, someone to comfort him.

Logan was aware that he’s no optimal candidate for the matter, not the first choice for consolation (nor the second). He does not possess the endless cuddles and comfort food of Patton, nor does he have the quiet understanding and listening ears of Virgil. His only way of reassuring the prince is through data, probabilities, and chances. Inadequate. Unsatisfactory. Definitely not enough.

Logan made a plan. A plan to make Roman feel better. A plan to get Roman to open his door, something he hadn’t done in two weeks. He gathered things he believed he would need in order to cheer Roman up: the Sherlock screenplay Roman had gifted him at Christmastime, Logan’s book of Shakespeare’s plays (Hamlet being pre-marked with a red sticky-note, in case Roman is feeling increasingly dramatic and macabre), his journal for note-taking, vocab cards, and his laptop- which has a playlist compilation full of ‘cute’ animal videos at the ready. All of this was needed for Logan to get up the courage to knock on Roman’s door. He felt as if he’s putting on an armour of sorts. Preparing himself for battle.

It’s quite funny- the logical side needs bravery and courage to step outside his area of expertise and comfort the prince of the group.

May 17th, 2020. 1830 hours. Attempt #1: Prologue.

Roman has not left his corner of the mindscape for 16 days, 6 hours, and 28 minutes. Virgil has just given an update on Patton’s condition, which is thus: Patton’s “room” has slightly lessened in its intensity of upsetting emotions. The picture frames’ rate of showing unfavourable memories has decreased. Patton has not cried yet today. The Dark Sides, Remus and Janus, seem to be keeping on the “down-low”. Thomas has not had any intrusive dreams in many days. Virgil has been too preoccupied in keeping tabs on Patton to give him anxiety over much. Thomas’ motivation has gone down. His restlessness has gone up. Roman’s unconscious contributions to Thomas’ everyday life have gone down significantly. Thomas has stopped daydreaming. He has stopped thinking about the future, what he has to do tomorrow. He is becoming forgetful and apathetic. As the logical side, there is only so much I can do to keep Thomas in working order without help from the others, that much I can admit. I have put off trying to help Roman in case things only become worse, but the stakes are too high at this point. Action must be taken. I will record the results of this 1st attempt later.

Logan steeled himself, books tucked under his arm. He took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

Around nine at night, he wrote down the results. Roman had been unresponsive to polite requests for entry, knocking, attempts to start a conversation, small-talk, even a referencing desire to build a snowman. He had not responded to propositions of reading from plays or poetry, or any of his favourite literature. In summary, it was almost like speaking to a “brick-wall” (almost, because the door to Roman’s room was made of mahogany).

“Really? Things must be bad,” was Virgil’s response as Logan recounted the events to him later that evening. It was late, almost time for Logan to get some shut-eye after organizing Thomas’ duties for tomorrow. Logan had entered the kitchen hoping that Thomas would get a good night’s sleep so he could have the highest level of productivity the next day, but judging by the Monster Energy drink resting in Virgil’s hands he supposed that was not the case.

“It is certainly concerning. I tried… if not everything, at least a substantial amount of options.”

“Yeah, and if Roman doesn’t answer to a Disney reference… I’m worried about him. Do you want... me to try?” he said, fidgeting. Logan realized he looked uncomfortable with the idea. Virgil must felt a little guilty for not showing up at all during the argument.

“No, I believe that more attempts should be made. To wear him down, in a way. I’m planning to try again tomorrow.”

“Same Bat Time, same Bat Place?”

“An interesting way of putting it, but that’s the idea.” Logan rubbed his eyes and began making a list of all his tasks once he returned to his room.

“Alright. I’m gonna go see Thomas.” Virgil said, getting ready to sink out.

“I assumed you were. And Virgil?”

He popped back up. “Yeah?”

“Please at least try to motivate him a bit, if through fear? I don’t want to deal with a gloomy, unproductive Thomas tomorrow.”

“You got it. I won’t screw him up too much. ‘Night, Lo.”

“Good-night, Virgil.” He was alone.

“Roman?” Logan knocked once more. “Roman, would you be open to company? I wish to speak with you.”

Nothing. He sighed, pushing his journal farther into his pants pocket. He decided to come with substantially less things this time around. To come as he is.

“I’m not entertaining visitors or guests at the present. Please come back another time, thank you,” came a weak and muffled response.

The sound of Roman’s voice gave Logan an ache in his heart which he didn’t want to name. He ignored it, for the moment.

“I just want to speak with you. You’ve been decidedly quiet these past few weeks. Your input, both in-person and in Thomas’ subconscious has dropped a considerable amount. As far as I am aware you have not made your presence known to me or any of the other sides in over two weeks.”

Silence was his response. Facts were getting Logan nowhere. Logan sighed, struggling with himself. Did he tell Roman what he thought in simple terms, what he was trying to say through his data? How could he bare himself to Roman’s listening ears, let himself be known?

“In all honesty, Roman, I’m- I’m…” He took a breath. “I’m worried about you.” He said this in a rush, letting it all out in one breath. Like a Band-aid, as Virgil had stated. The silence that still followed both frightened him and spurred him on.

“Roman, I- I haven’t spoken to you in weeks. I’m afraid of what will happen if you stay isolated for much longer. You’re a necessary part of Thomas’ life, for me to have things to maintain and keep in order. But more than that, more than duties of mine, I mis- I’m… finding your absence upsetting.”

Logan faintly realised his hands had begun to shake, and he clenched them.

“You… mean a lot to m- the Mindscape, to Patton, to Virgil… to everyone. No one means you harm. We need your input on discussions, and revel in your ideas and thoughts. We... miss you.”

Just gotta rip it off.

“I- I miss you, Roman.” Logan shut his eyes, forcing out the idea that he had become emotional enough to begin producing tears. Logic does not cry. “We bicker sometimes and both of us are wrong on occasion, but I would rather have arguments with you than nothing without.”

“Seeing your vibrance and excitement in brainstorming, your happiness in Disney movies and romances, watching your brilliance when creating plays and stories and… being you, I- I find myself… swept up- metaphorically, of course- in every emotion you give off when you’re around me. Seeing you productive and happy gives me more of a reason to work to the best of my ability.”

“It’s… it would be difficult for me to ever say these things in the hearing of the other sides, but… I miss the feelings you bring me when you are around. It is something greater than a job well done, Crofters, or puzzles and murder mysteries being solved.”

“The emotions I feel when you are around are something more than a simple pleasure in watching, in the aesthetical enjoyment of seeing things fall into place. When I’m with you, I feel… spurred into action.”

“Roman, I- I can’t… I can’t bear your absence any longer. I’m worried about you, but more than that, I’m worried that should you keep to yourself, I’ll never… I- I won’t…” Logan swept aside a few tears that had run down his face. His throat ached so much that he feared he wouldn’t be able to get any more words out. The words he spoke next came out in a hoarse whisper.

“Without you I’m afraid I’ll never feel anything again.”

A shuddered gasp tore itself from Logan’s throat as he took his first proper breath in a few minutes. Tears slicked their way down his face freely now. This was, Logan supposed, because such a long drought of emotion had rendered him virtually unable to control any that did overcome him.

“However,” Logan began once more after a few more minutes of silence, his voice quieter now. If anyone else had heard it, they might have said he sounded ashamed. “Should you wish to remain alone for… whatever period of time, I won’t stop you. Asking you to open your door for my sake is extremely selfish of me. I’m… I’m sorry, Roman.”

Logan took one more breath before turning around to leave. He had no idea what the effects of his speech would be, and that scared him. He was in an entirely new territory. This was an unprecedented event, with no similar experiences to compare it to. He had ‘boldly gone where no man had gone before’, so to say.

Logan was so wrapped in his own panic, for that is what it was, he almost missed the imperceptible click of Roman’s door opening as he walked away. Every muscle in Logan’s body tensed, and he prepared for angry words and scathing insults. Logan would face it, however. He turned around, and was met with a sight for some very sore eyes.

Roman held open his door an infinitesimal amount, peering through the crack. Through the small open space Logan could see the prince out of his usual outfit, the beautiful swath of his hair, and one very tearful eye. Logan opened his mouth without knowing what would come out, but the air was knocked out of him.

Roman flung the door open wide and his socked feet ate up the steps between them as he flung his arms around Logan, the force of his embrace almost tipping Logan over. An embarrassing ‘oof’ escaped him at the impact and his hands went up to grip the back of Roman’s jumper after only a second of hesitation.

Logan’s mind filled incredibly fast with all sorts of information: the scent of Roman’s hair, the warmth of his body, how Roman buried his head in Logan’s neck and the slight wetness that came from tears. The way Roman’s nose jutted into his neck, the almost imperceptible touch of Roman’s lips on his shirt collar. Logan’s body betrayed him in an audible catch of his breath as Roman clung to him harder.

“Roman, I-” Logan began in a faint whisper, but Roman only shushed him and tightened his grip, rocking them from side to side ever so slightly.

They stayed like that for Galileo knows how long when the prince peeled himself from Logan. Roman looked upon Logan with eyes so bright from unshed tears Logan would have believed there were stars in them.

“You never said anything. Not a word.”

Their conversation was as hushed as could be, the Mindscape and the world beyond it ceasing to exist and zooming in on the two of them, in this moment.

“I’m not good with words. When it comes to talking about feelings, I mean. You know this.”

“Don’t lie, Specs. That was one of the most eloquent and beautiful things I’ve ever heard.”

Logan scrambled to find a breath within him as Roman smiled up at him. For one of the few times in his life, he found himself with nothing to say.

“It was moving, and heartfelt-” Roman continued, taking Logan’s hand and stepping back, towards his room. He paused in his motions and looked at Logan once more.

“-and it was incredibly romantic.” He said softly.

“I’m- I’m glad.” came Logan’s strangled reply. Roman smiled at him again and led him into his room. There they would sit and talk for hours, and Logan would hold Roman to his chest. They would confess to things bothering them and their hopes, dreams, and fears for the future. It would grow late, and Logan would give in and begin to card his hands through Roman’s hair as the prince drifted off to sleep.

There, in the black-blue of the sky of Roman’s window, scattered with stars and the slanting rays of the moon, Logan would look down upon the prince’s sleeping head and realize, though he had first doubted his abilities, he had been enough. Enough for Roman and for himself. He had been enough.

________________________________________________________________

Taglist:

@count-woe-laf @psychedelicships

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stargaze-issei · 4 years

Text

"write for me" (t. kei x fem!reader)

summary; after years of crushing on you, the introverted writer from class, tsukishima finds a way to let all his feelings out. if he couldn't talk to you, then he would write to you.

genre; fluff.

warnings; none.

word count; 1.3k

autor's note; i'm sorry but i thought once about tsukki being a writer and here i am now lmao. i could totally see him using writing as a coping mechanism bc he can't express his feelings. is this self inserted? yes very much. anyways, enjoy.

everyone knew tsukishima was smart, he liked to read and was and extreme geek. he could tell you trivias from every marvel movie if you asked. maybe that's what drawn him to you. imagine how hard his jaw dropped when he saw his middle school crush in his same classroom, there, in karasuno. to yamaguchi, it was hilarious. your figure hadn't change so much during holidays, if anything, you were even prettier. of course, tsukishima would never say that out loud. he had made sure to get a seat from behind you, in order to make his staring less obvious, but never escaping from yamaguchi's comments on how he should at least talk to you.

the first time he noticed you, was during a break in your old school. you were sitting in the floor with a notebook supported on your thighs, writing something with a weird speed. even between all those noisy kids, balls flying around, you seemed so focused on your writing that it almost looked out of place. kei's head was filled with questions on what got you so excited to write, because being a writer himself, he knew that inspiration was a hard thing to get. since that moment, his eyes always found a way back to you. sometimes, you just stared at a blank paper, or write your brainstorm down. it would be a lie if he said he never wondered what was on that paper, on those notebooks. more than once he stayed up all night thinking about it.

"there are tons of others schools! it has to be a sign, tsukki!" yamaguchi had tried to convince him to talk to you for ages, but an uncommon shyness struck the blonde whenever it came to you.

"shut up, yamaguchi" he always shut him down, but his friend understood, and seeing tsukishima get flustered was always a pleasure to sight.

in the whole time he knew you, you never seemed sad. yes, you were usually by yourself, but he catch on those small smiles whenever you were satisfied by what you wrote, or when you laughed at yourself for any reason. he was sure that, at least throughout middle school, you were happy. someway along the way, it changed. you were making new friends, and to anyone who didn't pay attention, you were happy as always, but he knew you weren't. tsukishima desperately wanted to talk to you, he hated seeing those bags under your eyes, that fake smile. he wanted you to be happy and didn't know how to help you.

"hey y/n.

you looked sad today, i wanted to talk to you but i couldn't. is it because you stopped writing? if it is, please don't, i look forward to read something from you.

ps. please don't get scared, i'm not a stalker. i just like you, a lot"

he folded the little note in two, he would deliver it after practice in your locker. if he said he wasn't nervous, he would be the biggest liar ever. his hands were shaking while writing, in practice, he couldn't block a single hit because he was too busy thinking about your reaction. of course you would get scared, who wouldn't? he basically said that he watched you enough to know when you are sad and asked you to keep doing something as private as writing. but he did worry about you. the only other option was to actually talk to you, but that was not happening. first, because he had a reputation to keep. tsukishima kei, the sarcasm in human form, showing feelings over a crush? nope, not in this lifetime. second, at least this way he had the benefit of the doubt. if you thought he was some cute, sweet boy, maybe you wouldn't run away, but if you knew it was him, it was over. most people were scared of him.

he decided to do it, against all his better judgement.

the next day, he made yamaguchi pretend to talk to him near you locker only to see your reaction. every minute seemed eternal, until you finally arrived. he couldn't avoid thinking how pretty you looked in your uniform. both him and yamaguchi, who he had updated of his doings, stared at you while the piece of paper fell to your feet. thank god the halls were full enough for you to not feel their piercing gaze, because they weren't even blinking. as you read, tsukishima could swore his heart stopped beating. but when he saw your lips curve in a smile? he was done. he had made you smile. you were smiling at his handwriting, at something he wrote, damn, it felt like a whole world had been presented before him. he didn't had butterflies in his belly, he had a complete fleet of birds.

it became a routine to leave you little notes, saying how cute he thought you were, or him asking things, even if you couldn't respond, he just wanted you to know he cared.

"hey y/n.

i thought you presentation in japanese history was amazing. and don't even think i'm biased, because of course i am, but that's not the point. how you smiled at the end made it ten times better.

ps. that hair pin looked really pretty"

as usual, he waited until the end of practice to leave it. a paper folded was stuck with tape outside your locker that time, blocking the entrance. his heart started to beat faster, had you left him a reply that time?

"hi, you.

it's been a month since you started leaving me notes, it would be rude of me to not answer. you make me feel really good, you know? i was surprised at first, nobody else notice how sad i was but you. i'm not anymore, mostly thanks to your words. i can't get you out my mind, it bothered me to not have a face to place in my thoughts. i wanted, no, i want to meet you so bad. do you really like me? i like to think you wouldn't lie to me, so i won't lie to you. i'm pretty sure i like you too. i can even hear you thinking, how could i like you if i don't know who you are?, well, think again, tsukishima kei."

the first thing he felt was fear. god, he was so scared. he re-read it, it said you liked him back. did you though? he was so... unlikeable. someone as nice as you just couldn't be into him. but he wasn't anyone to say who you could or could not like, so–

"hey, tsukishima" that voice. he had heard it so many time, but for the first time was actually to him. his name between your lips sounded like a completely different thing, something amazing tsukki could hear for hours non stop. slowly, he turned around to face you. you were still in your uniform, meaning you had stayed there for three hours just waiting for him. "aren't you gonna ask me how i figured it out?"

a soft how left his throat. you were kind of entertained by his reaction, you understood the shocked, you had felt it when you realized it was him sending you those cute notes four days ago.

"when the guy you like since middle school starts acting strange, you can tell. and the way you wrote, like you knew me from a long time. i was between you and yamaguchi, so i took my chances on you" both of you were to afraid to move, scared that the other was going to disappear "would it be okay if i ask you on a date?" all your confidence had left your body before asking that question.

"that's all i want, dumbass" he answered, going back to be his usual self. you laughed, making his heart skip a beat. "c-can i... get closer?" that was everything you needed to walk towards him, your moves seemed to synchronize perfectly with his.

kei's arms wrapped around your neck, him being to tall to reach your waist, and your arms were around his torso. he felt so warm, like the hug you were expecting your whole life.

#tsukishima x reader #haikyuu tsukishima #hq tsukki #tsukishima scenarios #tsukishima kei #tsukishima x you #tsukishima fluff #tsukishima #tsukishima haikyuu #tsukishima imagine #tsukki fluff #tsukki x reader #– star's; originals! [❀]

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concerningwolves · 3 years

Note

Hej, I actually have three questions: How do you handle plotbunnies? I currently have 14 - more or less fleshed out. But they are mere notes. Secondly: I'm in a bind with some of my pieces. The introduction is more or less there and I have a cornerstone (an important scene) but I don't know how to get there. Thirdly: Is there a tag or so for beat readers and how much research is good? I can sink week into research a single detail. Thanks.

(A note before I begin: as of 02.04.21, asks like this violate my ask guidelines. This isn’t a personal scolding, @quamatoc, but I just want to make you and readers aware that I won’t take multiple unrelated topics in a single ask anymore. More on this AG update here.)

Handling Plot Bunnies

Honestly, the most helpful thing I've learned is that it's okay to just... let your plot bunnies be. Leave them grazing on your metaphorical mental lawn. You don't have to do something with them straight away – in fact, managing which projects you work on and when, instead of chasing down every plot bunny you see, is an important skill to learn.

I like to keep an Evernote notebook for each plot bunny, so I can update it whenever I get a new idea but don't feel like I'm abandoning the ideas or like I have to work on them Right Now. You could keep a physical notebook, a file, a digital folder full of word documents – it doesn’t matter what you use, so long as it’s something you can access easily and keep relatively organised. Sometimes fresh inspiration will strike and I'll realise that an apparently unrelated plot bunny is actually really useful for a current project, or I'll get struck with a full plot for a previously fragmented idea. Either way, it’s been really liberating to realise that I can just keep plot bunnies safe somewhere for later on.

Getting from Point A to Point B (Building the Plot)

► PLOT STRUCTURES & GENERAL NOTES

To get from place to place in a story, you need to think about what makes it tick. You don’t need to write scenes in order, though! For me, figuring out a plot is really just me asking myself a very, very long series of questions. If I know what the Big Scene is, I’ll work backwards, asking myself things and seeing how the answers could get me from point A to B.

You don’t have to figure out a plot freehand, either. If you’re struggling, you might find it useful to use a pre-made plot structure outline such as the. There are loads available online. Print out several different ones and see which fits best, put your important scene where you think it goes and work backwards, write all over them, use a giant whiteboard, write on the wall – if it helps, use it. Here’s a blog article on different types of plot structure.

I also think it's important to actually write. It's so easy to get caught up in plotting that you don't put your thoughts to paper. Make sure you don’t fall into that trap! I'm a plantser, meaning I like to do a mixture of pre-plotting and flying through drafts by the seat of my pants. Even if you’re a rigid planner, be sure to see how your ideas look in action by drafting out scenes.

► “WHAT IF?” QUESTIONS

“What if character A and B discover a secret? What if they have different opinions on what to do about the secret? What if this becomes a friends to enemies to friends to lovers plot?? – wait, no, what if they’re already enemies and this secret forces them to work together? What if—”

Brainstorm "what if...?" questions and explore various options. You don’t have to make any final decisions – that’s the beauty of drafting! The point is to put together subplots and main plots, and see which one works best in getting you to where you want to go.

► GOALS, WANTS & AMBITIONS

A character’s ambitions, wants and goals are very important to a story. They help hook the audience in by giving them something to root for. Knowing what a character wants and what lengths they would go to to get it is crucial to driving a plot forwards, especially if your story is character-driven.

What does a character want? → A character can have multiple desires, but it’s helpful to pick one key thing that undercuts most of their actions. Maybe they want to find out who killed their mother, or escape from somewhere. Perhaps they want to steal a pretty gem. Maybe they want to be king, or they want to escape from their responsibilities as a ruler.

What steps is a character willing to take? → Some characters are willing to do anything to achieve their goals. Maybe they commit a crime, end up in prison, get nudged towards more heinous actions, and find themself in a situation they never would have expected. Other characters are more cautious, but get pushed to breaking point – and then make a Bad Decision that bring about a major plot point. The steps a character makes are what puts them on the path of your plot.

Could anything change a character’s desires, or influence them to take different/more drastic measures? If so, what, and how would this change plot events? → Let’s say that your cornerstone scene is when character A steals from character B, but A starts the story unfailingly loyal to B and only wants to protect them. In order to get to that cornerstone, you’d need to work out what could happen to change A’s priorities. Change is invaluable in getting from plot point to plot point. If something happens that changes what a character wants – i.e., a betrayal, a sudden exile, or a change in fortunes – it can push them down paths they wouldn’t have otherwise considered.

► CONFLICT & OBSTACLES

Just as characters need to want something; plots need conflict and obstacles to make them interesting.

What could go wrong? How would the character(s) try to solve the problem? → “How can I create problems?” is probably the most valuable question an author can ask when building the plot; asking yourself how the characters try and solve said problem just pushes it even further, like this:

Does the attempted solution work? Whether it succeeds or fails, does it have any unexpected consequences? → Say that your Important Scene takes place in a different location to where your characters start out. So, the thing that goes wrong means your characters need to flee (the solution), and it works! They’ve escaped! Only now, they don’t have anywhere safe to go, and so they end up going into the place where Important Scene happens. Or maybe they don’t escape, and their attempt means that they’re transported to a more secure location, which in turn gives them an opportunity to get to Important Scene Location.

Do A’s goals conflict with another character’s goals? What would the other character do to protect their own interests? → If your cornerstone scene involves a clash of two armies, you need to think about what could ramp up the tension between the two sides, and conflicting interests is a great way to do this. Maybe your protagonist is trying to save the world from impending doom, but the queen of a neighbouring land is blinded by hunger for more land and riches. Or, the protagonist is a queen-in-exile trying to wrestle the throne back from the tyrannical relative who usurped her. Think about how each characters’ moves against the other could drive the plot.

The key is to think of it as building a structure out of bricks or slabs. You have your cornerstone – great! – now you need to work out what parts go where.

Research and Beta Readers

Research is something I wholeheartedly and unironically love. I will actually give myself research days a treat for reaching certain writing goals! So, naturally, I'm going to say that there's no limit on how much research one should do to create a story. That said, there is one caution to keep in mind: research is good, so long as you don't let it stop you from actually writing OR let it turn your writing into something akin to an instruction manual. In early drafts, try replacing any specific information you need with a code such as [ELEPHANT] or [KX] – basically, something you can find easily with the search function later on when you’ve researched it.

To find beta-readers, I recommend using the writeblr tag. It's where the bulk of the community puts their stuff. Make a post like "call for beta readers" with information about your project and use the buzzword tags like "writeblr" "writers on tumblr" "writers of tumblr" "beta readers" and whatever genre is applicable. Avoid external links in the post, otherwise it won't show up in the tags.

[ASK GUIDELINES | KO-FI]

#quamatoc #research #plotting #writing advice #plot bunnies #writeblr

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tishinada · 3 years

Text

Dance in the Shadow of Honor, Chapter 53 - “Falling Ashes”

(lovely art of Ucevi and Quinn by Sleepwithvillains!)

Summary: Ucevi knew exactly who she was and how her life should have gone. Powerful, arrogant, strong in the Force, born to a Pure-blood family whose lineage stretched back past the settlement of Dromund Kaas, past the start of the Great Hyperspace War. True Sith. Then in a moment, everything changed, and she was forced to play a role, blackmailed into becoming the sword in someone else’s battle. She walked a fine line between her duty to the Empire in the shape of her detestable master and the honor of her family and its Shadows…until she could reclaim her name and freedom.

Then she met Quinn who had the same sense of duty to the Empire that she did and a stubborn sense of honor as tenacious as her own. A man with a debt of honor to the very master she had bargained to destroy, who was clearly meant to be a weapon to be used against her, in more ways than one. But caution couldn’t prevent their growing respect, trust, and attraction, leaving each to struggle with the question of whether they could both find a way to fulfill honor and survive.

Notes: Mostly canon retelling with my own twists. Slow burn. Baras dies, obviously. Probably not that graphic, but cautious. Profanity. May eventually change to explicit rating. Most characters belong to Bioware. Ucevi, Joran, Toth’Anla, Toth’Onira, Tan’Koto, the Old Man, Sgt. Fesnil, Zusae, RSD-13, and the Parits are all my OCs.

Surprise! Not quite 8 days between updates!

This chapter co-written with @cinlat, which has been SO much fun! After all, who else can bring a Mandalorian cantina and bar brawl to life so well? Also much thanks for the loan of one of her Mandalorians from Meet me on the Battlefield...

(Also, lots of thanks to @cinlat and @sleepswithvillains for comments, brainstorming and just for being so supportive!)

Pairings: Quinn x f!sith warrior, f!sith warrior x others

Warnings: possibly graphic violence. Profanity. Some explicit language.

>>>>>>>>>

Chapter 53 - “Falling Ashes”

Quinn hesitated, staring at the door to Trovas Chwûk for a long moment before steeling himself and pushing it open.

At least this early, there are unlikely to be many Sith-blood customers being served. I think I might lose my nerve if I had to ask within their hearing.

Just inside, a young Twi’leki woman was inspecting the gleaming wood of a table in the empty dining room while a pair of droids were cleaning and polishing other tables. She glanced up in surprise at the sound of the door, eyes widening. Odd. I noticed before that some of their staff seemed uneasy with me.

“Excuse me, but I wondered if I might speak to one of the owners or managers with a request? Or rather, a question?”

The woman hesitated, then nodded silently, tapping something into an odd wrist unit. She pointed at a carved bench near the door, indicating that he could wait there. How odd. She hasn’t spoken a single word. Like our server the other night.

The young woman vanished through one of the doorways as he settled on the bench, feeling rather like a cadet called to the commandant’s office for unknown reasons. In fact, he had to stop himself from checking his uniform nervously or sitting at attention. Or bolting.

I...this was impulsive. But I want...I need to do something for Ucevi for Lifeday, to thank her for that lovely evening at the opera. I know she would enjoy this, and I can’t think of anything else. She and Apprentice Zas have plans for most of the day, so this is the perfect opportunity.