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1987vampire · 3 years

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A Good Something? | Judd Birch

Fandom: Big Mouth Word Count: 1.9k Warnings: a hurt racoon, the f slur, just a lot of cussing. Request: None! A/N: This isn’t established Judd x reader, this is meeting him for the first time so if I write more fics for him, I have something I can refer y’all back to :) If y’all want to see more Judd, an ACTUAL judd x reader, I can give y’all that ALSO the reader has dyed hair in this - not blue - it’s not super important but there’s a line in here that references it. Extra:

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” your words were stressed as you slammed on the breaks. The rain made it hard to see; it wasn’t your fault that the animal had run into the middle of the road. You weren’t even going that fast, they should have been able to hear you.

You flung your door open harsher than you meant to, but you had to move quickly in case someone came speeding down the road, and you ended up bleeding out right next to whatever you had hit. The road was slick underneath your feet. You almost slipped and fell as you skidded to a stop in front of them. It was a racoon, a fat one at that, and it was staring up at you with big doe eyes. His leg was twisted, and he was letting out small grunts of pain.

“Oh, I’m sorry, little buddy,” You cried. “Can I pick you up? I’ll find somewhere to take care of you, I promise.” You hadn’t really expected an answer- it was an animal after all – but he nodded up at you, reaching his little paws out in hopes that you would help. You paused for a moment, taking in the situation and trying to figure out how to pick him up without hurting him.

You reached an arm under his butt and the other under his neck so you wouldn’t jostle his leg too much. He made little chirping sounds as you steadily walked over to your car, using your head as a shield so he wouldn’t get rain in his eyes. You let out a quiet stream of ‘I’m sorry’s as you did so. You made it into your car just in time to close the door as someone sped down, narrowly missing you as they went.

The little racoon shivered in the passenger seat, but you covered him in blankets and spare clothes you kept in the back, turning the heat in your car on high, trying to dry him and heat him up at the same time. He stared up at you thankfully as you put the car in gear, driving home even slower than before, never going over twenty-five-miles-an-hour.

Once you had reached your apartment, you had to sneak him in in hopes that your shitty landlord wouldn’t notice. He had a strict no animals policy, but this was a bit more important. Fortunately, you could sneak past his office by telling the raccoon to be quiet, since he seemed to be good at listening to directions somehow, and hiding him underneath the pile of clothes, passing him off as laundry.

Finally, inside the comforts of your apartment, you laid him down on the couch and set to researching what to do. After a few calls to a few vet offices and a lot of google searches, you were able to give him a makeshift cast and lay him in a way that would be best for his recovery. He was still talking in his little racoon language as you went. It really looked like he was trying to tell you something, but unfortunately, you were human and could not understand him.

That was until he held your hand in his little paws and pulled them to his neck. How had you not noticed the skinny collar he was wearing? His thick fur had almost completely covered it. Really, it wasn’t even a collar but a thick piece of cord with a circle nameplate in the middle.

You fiddled with it, reading the information attached. ‘Contact Judd. 555-4200’ was engraved onto it in someone’s personal handwriting instead of with a machine. “You know it’s illegal for someone to own a racoon around here, right,” you told him. The racoon made a noise of disapproval and fiddled with the collar again. “Do you want me to take it off?” He hissed in displeasure, making you stop abruptly. “Call him?” He nodded enthusiastically. “You’re a strange little guy, you know that, right?”

You pulled out your phone and dialed the number, tapping your foot against the floor anxiously. It took a few rings, and you were sure he wouldn’t pick up, when a deep voice answered the phone.

“Do you know what fucking time it is, right now?”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you turned towards the first clock you could find—three o’clock in the morning. “I- I’m sorry. I can call back in the morning if you want. I just have this racoon with me, and his ankle is twisted because I accidentally hit him, and he had your number on his neck, and I- I-“

“Racoon?” His voice cut you off, and you could tell that he was waking up at the information. “You hit one of my fucking racoons?”

“He ran out into the middle of the road when I was driving. It was raining, so I could barely see, and I couldn’t swerve to miss him because there was a car on one side of the road and trees on the other. I wrapped his leg, and he’s resting, but he wanted me to call you, so here we are.”

He let out a few grumbles, and my fingers instinctively rose to my face so I could bite at my nails. “Fucking hell. Why was he in the middle of the road?” It was a rhetorical question, but you had almost wanted to respond even though you didn’t have an answer. “Does he have any distinctive marks on him? A missing toe, clipped ear, maybe he has uneven stripes.” Your eyes fell on the racoon again. He looked pretty normal besides the leg.

Almost like he knew what you were talking about, the racoon pulled one of his hands up to his forehead. After you pushed some of his fur to the side, you knew what he was pointing at. “He’s showing me that he has a scar on his forehead - like he split his forehead or something.”

“Of course it’s fucking Gerard – the fat fuck.”

You frowned at the statement. “He’s not that fat.”

“I mean the sentence in the most loving hatred filled way I can mean it. He knows I don’t mean it. Can you give the phone to him?”

This was the weirdest fucking situation you had ever been in. “Oh yeah, I guess.” you placed the phone in the racoon’s hand, and he made a chirp as a hello. You could hear Judd’s voice lowly in the speaker as he talked to him, the racoon making noises of acknowledgement as he went. You could make out very little besides him asking if you were taking care of him and then berating him for being stupid. The racoon – well, Gerard – kept trying to talk to him, but Judd refused to let up, barely giving him a moment to speak even if he did understand him.

After a few minutes, Gerard pushed the phone towards me, and I took it back. “So, what do you want me to do with him. Like, I can take him to yours, since I guess he belongs to you, or-“

“Fuck off. What are you – the feds? Give me your address, I’m not letting you see my shit.”

“Well, usually people ask me on a date before seeing my place, but-“ the words had slipped from my mouth before I thought about what I was saying, and my eyes immediately widened with embarrassment. “Oh my god- I’m sorry-“

He laughed loudly and pulled the phone away from his ear. “Well, we can think about that after I get the fat fucking faggot in your house.”

Your arms crossed. “You better part of that community if you’re using their slurs, fuckface.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he mused. “Give me your address. I’m getting in my car.”

After giving him the information, you hung up, itching at your arm as you stared at Gerard. “He isn’t very nice, huh,” you told him. He chirped and shook his head as if defending him. “Is he really mean or is it a front?” He chirped at the second part, and I smiled. “Well, he’ll be here soon.”

And soon it was. It only took him about ten minutes before you heard a loud knocking on your door, banging more like. You jumped from sitting beside Gerard to the door, peeking out into the dark hallway, the latch still connected. “Judd?”

On the other side of the door was a decently tall man with black and blue hair, his sides shaved til it was only stubble. He was clad in a gray hoodie and black jeans, gray converse on his feet. His face was set in a glare as he stared at you. “Who the fuck else would it be?”

You shut the door and unlatched it, opening it wider so he could come in. “You knock like my landlord.”

“Landlord?” He pushed into your apartment, his sights set on the racoon lounging on your cheap couch. “You don’t look old enough to have a landlord.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m nineteen. This is my apartment.”

He glanced at you over his shoulder. “And you let some strange man in? Pretty stupid if you ask me.”

You frowned and pursed your lips. “I can kick you out- keep your racoon if you don’t start acting nice.”

“You could definitely try.” He picked up Gerard’s leg, inspecting it. “You did a good job with this. Almost as good as my work.”

“He was a good patient.”

Judd scoffed, sticking his hands underneath Gerard to pick him up just as you had earlier that night. “He was probably just basking in a pretty girl’s attention.”

Pretty? A smile was climbing onto your face. He was pretty, too, if he didn’t have such a sour attitude.

His eyes fell onto yours as he turned. “I like your hair by the way. The color suits you.” You ran your hand through your dyed hair, suddenly very conscious of how you looked. “You should try blue next time.” Gerard made a loud noise in his arms and reached out to you. Judd frowned down at him. “You had your fun, dumbass, but you’ve got to go home now. I’m sure the others are worried about you.”

“Others?”

Judd looked back at you. “Yeah, I was – uh – training a battalion of racoons to kill my younger brother.” He groaned quietly. “Now they’re good for catering and attacking intruders, but they refused to hurt him. Got a few scars because of it.”

You chuckled quietly and shook your head. “You sure are something, alright.”

His lips upturned the slightest bit into a tiny smile. “Is that a good something?”

“Sure, we can say that.”

You opened the door for him as he started taking strides towards it. He paused right past the entryway, something sitting on his tongue. “Try not to hit any more racoons, alright?”

Your fingers drummed along the door, and you laughed. “I’ll be sure to call you if I do. Just in case.”

He was already walking away when he responded. “You have my number.”

You hesitated on shutting the door right away, choosing to listen to him begin to berate the racoon as he walked down the hall, something along the lines of, ‘you make me come out in the middle of the night, scared shitless. You could have died, you fucking cunt.” He continued as he disappeared out of sight, but you didn’t even have the heart to ask him to cover the racoon as he left, preferring to just deal with your landlords berating the next day.

#judd birch #judd birch x reader #judd big mouth #judd big mouth x reader #big mouth #big mouth x reader

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marvelhero-fics · 3 years

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Snowman

Series - Chapter One

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You’re a HYDRA assassin that’s worked closely with the Winter Soldier, to each of your dismay you’re reunited with Bucky after the blip.

A/N: I haven’t posted in like 300 years, but I hope you guys enjoy this new series! This follows parts of TFATWS so expect spoilers! (Also I’m sure all the Russian is absolutely wrong, if you’d like to correct it please send me a message!)

Word Count: 1,815 (future chapters will be wayyy longer)

Snowman Masterlist || Full Masterlist

New York

2023

“So tell me about this-” the therapist looked down at her notes briefly, “(Y/N).” She finished.

Bucky paused momentarily, “No.”

“James, for these therapy sessions to be effective, you need to open up to me. I can’t help you if I don't know what’s wrong.” His therapist responded, laying her pen carefully on her small notebook.

Bucky thought for a moment, taking in the ambience of the room. What would he even say about (Y/N)? He hadn’t seen her in years. Bucky was kicking himself for accidentally bringing her up in his session last week. “I- uh-” he stammered, shifting his weight on the couch, “I met her in 2011. At least I think it was 2011. Date’s get kinda fuzzy sometimes, with all the cryo.” Bucky’s hand pressed against his head, feeling dazed as he tried to think back. “It was at the big HYDRA base outside of Moscow. We had to go on a mission together-” he was cut off,

“Did she work for HYDRA?” Dr Raynor interjected.

“Yea. She was an assassin too. She went by the alias the Viper.” Bucky pretended not to notice his therapist tense up. Anyone who knew anything about HYDRA knew who the Viper was. She was one of the most prolific assassins after the Winter Soldier.

“Tell me more about when you met her.”

“We were instructed to take out a terrorist organisation forming against SHIELD. Which was ironic because we were working for a terrorist organisation. But at this point SHIELD was being run by HYDRA and they couldn’t risk any slip ups, so they put 6 assassins on the job. HYDRA usually didn’t have their assassins working together, we were all too volatile. But we had to take out over 70 people in one night. It was (Y/N), a few assassins from the Red Room, and a few agents that HYDRA had trained personally, and me.” Bucky stopped.

“Where was (Y/N) trained?”

“At a secondary facility run by HYDRA. She was trained from a really young age. It’s all she’s known.” Bucky seemed somber. But his therapist continued,

“What happened on the mission?”

“Nothing. It went exactly to plan. The targets were taken out and we all left without a trace. But (Y/N), she- she kept trying to talk to me, or get to know me. I was the Winter Soldier. No one in their right mind ever tried to ‘get to know me’.”

“Why do you think (Y/N) did that?”

“She told me she was bored.” He replied bluntly.

Moscow

2011

The poorly lit conference room was filled with a myriad of assassins and officials. The only illumination came from old LED lights hanging from the concrete ceiling. The mossy green paint on the walls looked as if it hadn’t been patched up in years. The only new-ish part of the room was the large, oak conference table, surrounded by black, leather seating. It was difficult not to notice the red HYDRA symbol holding a spot on almost every piece of clothing in the area.

“TITAN terroristicheskaya organizatsiya, formiruyushchayasya protiv nas. (TITAN is a terrorist organisation forming against us.)” Kuznetsov spoke, “Izbrannyye budut otpravleny segodnya vecherom v Ukrainu dlya vypolneniya postavlennoy zadachi. Uberi ikh. (The chosen ones will be sent to Ukraine tonight to complete their given tasks. Take them out.)”

That was all it took. You stared at the file in front of you. You had read through it multiple times, going over every single name, every single skill set your targets had. You were more than certain you could complete this job on your own. But you had no choice on the matter.

Your eyes darted around, taking in the faces of the assassins that were to accompany you on your mission. Two youthful females, dressed in black leather sat next to each other. The older, grimacing woman behind them was Madame B., the head supervisor of the Red Room. You moved your gaze to the two agents in dark green uniforms and red, soviet berets. Neither looked particularly menacing.

You finally landed on the last assassin. His dark hair fell like curtains around his face. Gloomy blue eyes searched their way through the room. His sharp jaw seemed tense through his stubbled cheeks. He was large, extremely built. Covering his frame was an amplitude of black clothing and gear.

“Play nice.” Your mentor spoke softly over your shoulder, breaking you from your train of thought.

“I always do.”

Your padded snow boots ripped through the thick snow covering the ground. The six of you had hiked your way to the set point on your GPS systems, the clouds of snowfall covering your vision held the illusion that there were absolutely no structures nearby. A large helicopter had dropped the group a few miles out from the hideout to ensure nothing was compromised. The trek was in utter silence, fighting against the harsh temperature in mid February.

The waypoint became closer on your map, a tiny building slowly appeared in your vision against the foggy downfall. It was a small, wooden cabin. Everyone hustled their way through the unlocked door. It was barren, it held no furniture, no blankets, no means of any life. There appeared to be a few doors that led to small, empty rooms. The entrance only held a small fireplace, filled with old cut down logs that had been eaten by bugs.

The group quickly dispersed, you headed to one of the rooms alone, throwing down your belongings onto the floor. The bag you carried was mainly filled with weapons and ammunition, along with a very warm sleeping bag. You knew too well you wouldn’t be sleeping tonight, but you would need the extra heat for now.

There was no chatter anywhere in the house. Your mission would begin in 6 hours. Everyone was likely putting together their artillery. You decided to cozy up in your navy sleeping bag for a moment of comfort.

Someone had lit the fire in the lounge. A warm, orange light crept through the cracks in your door. The ambiance was strangely calming for a shitty cabin in the middle of nowhere.

Snow continued to fall against the tiny glass pane of your room. You weren’t a fan of assassinating in the snow. It was low vision, harsher climates, and it lessened the ability to move. Snakes weren’t creatures of the cold. Conveniently you’d been grouped with someone who called himself ‘The Winter Soldier’. I’m sure he loves the cold, you thought.

You’d heard a lot about him. Everyone had. He was the perfect assassin. He never failed a mission, his body didn’t reject cryo, every form of enhancement HYDRA had used on him had been a success. He was what every assassin had aspired to be.

Without thought, you grabbed the glass bottle laying next to you and walked off to the room the Winter Soldier had claimed for the night.

“Privet (Hello)”. You announced, pushing his door open with a creak. His head didn’t turn towards you. He sat on the floor, the sound coming from him indicated he was sharpening knives.

“Khochesh' vypit'? (Want a drink?)” You asked, motioning the bottle towards him.

He stayed silent for a moment. Finally he turned, looking up at you from his position on the floor. “What is it?” His dark tone asked back. The amber light from the fire crashed against his features. His strong jaw was covered with a dark stubble, his brunette hair tucked behind his ears. His most obvious feature was the hauntingly blue eyes that sat in sunken sockets, he looked drained.

“It’s vodka.” You stated, honestly. You were surprised to hear he wasn’t Russian, he sounded… American?

“You’re drinking before a mission?” He queried.

You shrugged. “Alcohol doesn’t freeze.” You sat down next to him. “Plus it takes the edge off.” A faint clinking noise announced as you placed the bottle on the floor between you two. He stared at you for a moment, before quietly going back to his knives.

“Wanna play 20 questions?” You interrupted the silence.

“No.”

“What about truth or dare?”

“I’m not 14.” the soldier replied, his eyes not leaving his handy work.

“How old are you?” You shot back,

“Why are you trying to get to know me?” He dodged your question.

“I’m bored.” You shrugged, taking a deep swig of the vodka. “And by my calculations,” you peered down at your watch, “we still have 3 hours and 27 minutes until the mission starts.”

He gave a shallow sigh, “93.”

“What?”

“I’m 93. How old are you.”

“93?! You were born in 1917?”

“Mhm. How old are you.”

“25. You look great for 93.” You chuckled.

“You look old for 25.” He jabbed back. His knife sharpener still grinding across a 6 inch blade.

“You flatter me.” You replied sarcastically. “So what’s your story? How’d you make it to 93?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“Why would I ask if I didn’t want to know?”

Bucky looked over at you. “I’m telling you, you don’t want to know.”

“C’mon old man, I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.” You smirked. He once again, went back to his knives. It almost seemed as if he was trying to threaten you, pulling out larger knife after larger knife.

You huffed, opening your mouth to speak, “I was born in Hungary to a drug abusing mother, and an absent father. I was kidnapped and sold to HYDRA when I was 6. I was placed under the care of the Kraken. Not sure if you’ve met him, he’s this large guy-”

“I’ve met him.” Bucky stated, interrupting your spiel.

“Right, well, he trained me for years. Eventually HYDRA got involved again and I was tested on, experimented on, messed with, ya’ know, all that fun stuff.” You explained.

“Are you enhanced?” Bucky asked, almost as if he was actually interested.

“Yea. I have this whole snake venom trick. It’s great for up close combat. The experiments really should’ve killed me though. But maybe that’s what makes us so good-” Bucky looked over at the woman next to him, her bright eyes stared back at him as she spoke “ya’ know, the best assassins are the ones living off borrowed time. Because we’ve met death before, so we’re not afraid to do it again.”

Bucky quickly grabbed the Barrett M82 rifle next to him, his metal arm making faint whirring noises. “I’m going to scope out the base.” He stated bluntly. And with that, his large black boots walked him out the bedroom, and out the door.

You let out a faint sigh, creeping back to your room to sort out your weapons. You were sure it was something you said that scared him off. I guess at 93 you have to be living off too much borrowed time, you speculated. You absentmindedly set up your pistols, your mind not being able to wander from the Winter Soldier. Maybe annoying the Red Room girls would get your mind off it.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #Bucky Barnes fic #Bucky imagine #bucky oneshot #bucky series #bucky barnes series #bucky #Bucky barnes #the avengers #tfatws #the winter solider #the winter solider x reader #the winter solider fanfic

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hannie-dul-set · 3 years

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“i'll take your word for it and no one else's.” [lee jeno]

SUMMARY | maybe snooping through your friend’s phone wasn’t that much of a good idea. or maybe it was. either way, you didn’t regret it. PAIRING | lee jeno x reader GENRE | friends to something, fluff, lots of bickering JHDFJ WARNINGS | swearing, invasion of privacy (LMAO idk) WORD COUNT | 2.1k TAGLIST | @danishmiilk @lucyinthesunshinee @sehunniepot @nct-writers @czennienet @neowritingsnet

a/n: i didn’t think i’d turn another one of my dreams into a fic, but here we are HAHHAHA i tweaked a few bits and pieces to make it work (setting + added some dialogue + changed the ending because i WOKE UP before it could finish hmph) but please enjoy this unscheduled fic!! <3

early summer afternoons were warm.

bright rays of the sun were showering on your skin as you lounged on the park bench, hot enough to make you feel the season but not too hot to singe your skin. it was the perfect weather to waste the day outside, and your younger brother and cousin decided to haul you outside so they can play basketball at the park.

but you didn't know why your friend jeno decided to come along.

"your brother messaged me," he grinned at you, plopping down beside you with a long, refreshed sigh. a towel was slung around his neck and he used it to wipe the sweat on his face. "what? why are you staring at me like that?"

"since when were you close with my brother?"

"am i not allowed to be friends with the little guy?" he joked, but apparently he took the unamused look on your face completely the wrong way. "oh my god, are you afraid that he'll take all my attention away from you?" to further tease, he brought his smug face closer to yours that was dumbfounded in shock, his stupidly irritating smile moving in closer.

sometimes you wondered if this was the same boy who helped you cross the street the first time you met.

but you loved him nonetheless.

"like hell i want your attention," you sneered, lightly shoving him away with a glare. he only laughed at your display of annoyance. "go back to playing with the kids or something, you goof."

the never leaving grin in his face seemed brighter against the sun, and he playfully ruffled your hair before running off to disappear into the court.

"as you wish, m'lady."

you let out a huff of air, rolling your eyes as your cheeks were involuntary tugged upwards, prompting a smile to form on your lips. you brought your hands to your hair, fixing the mess that jeno left with, and your gaze landed on the phone he left beside you. the screen flashed on. someone was calling him.

brows knitted together, you picked up the ringing phone, unable to recognize the caller id. you brought the device to your ear, standing up walking towards the court— you figured that you'd just answer whoever that was now and just pass it on to jeno once he was at reach.

"hello?"

"oh, hello there!" there was a pause from the caller "is lee jeno around, miss? would you mind giving the phone to him?"

the voice was that of a middle aged woman's, but it wasn't someone that you recognized. you assumed it was a relative of his or something because you'd know that this was his mom if it were her. "ah, give me a moment! i'll just look for him."

your feet stopped at the edge of the court, the sound of a ball bouncing into the concrete jarring against your ears. not bothering to look at the scene in front if you, you covered the mic with your hand before deciding to shout.

"jeno! someone's calling you!"

there was no usual prompt answer from your friend.

"he's not here!"

the loud voice of your brother answered instead, causing you to narrow your eyes into the court scene with a tinge of confusion masking your expression. there was indeed no mop of blue hair within the area, and you were only confused even further.

"where did he— aish, nevermind."

scratching your head, you swiveled your heels and decided to just head back to the bench. "hi, sorry. i'm not sure where he is right now. so if it's fine with you, can you call him again later? or maybe i could just tell him to call you back when he returns?"

"oh, then can you just relay this to him? it won't take that long, i promise."

you inwardly sighed, but agreed nevertheless. oh, you were definitely gonna ask him to treat you and the kids dinner later. why the fuck did he just disappear like that? now you were responsible for memorizing whatever this woman was telling you (apparently it was about an architecture summer program he was interested in— the lady was a head from his department and she was just calling to tell him that he was accepted. she says she'll be forwarding more details later through text).

"alright, thank you! i'll be sure to inform him when he gets back."

the call ended, and you groaned. you were about to close the phone, but then all of a sudden a notification appeared with a quiet ding!

[haechan 🌟 liked your retweet.]

ding!

[ohhh shit why do i feel like i know who this is.]

"huh."

you knew that you shouldn't be snooping inside your friend's phone. you knew that you shouldn't be invading his privacy no matter how enticingly juicy the bait was. you knew that it was flat out wrong. but—

"ah, just a peek," you clicked on the notification. "payback for making me deal with his stuff."

a hint of excitement rushed through you. jeno never told you his twitter. actually, you didn't even know he had one. he was always buried with studies, sports, and friends so you didn't expect him to keep up with social media— this fact enough was surprising, but the moment the screen finally loaded the tweet

you were even more surprised than you were a few seconds ago.

[@markly tweeted: "it's kind of funny how sometimes we just meet random people at the most random of moments and you don't expect it but they just end up sticking by your side until now"]

[@leejeno quoted: "yeah. a few years back, i saw this girl while i was walking. it wasn't the usual path that i took to school. i saw her having trouble crossing the street because there was a dog hanging around (she's scared of them) so i decided to help her. she couldn't even look at my face back then out of embarrassment but earlier we were calling until four in the morning. if i took a different path that day or if i didn't help her, i don't know how i'd be like right now because she's become one of the most important people in my life."]

your heart skipped a beat. two beats. three. it was running a mile a minute and you could barely even breathe to catch up.

[@do0 replied: how are you two right now?]

[@leejeno replied: "we're good haha. i'm going with her and her brother to the park later. we're still really good friends.]

[@leejeno replied: but i'm not sure if i want things to stop there."]

"hey, sorry for running off there. i went to get some— whoa. whats up?"

oh my fucking god.

you shot up, eyes wide, and you automatically turned off the phone. broken stutters left your lips, as the leaping of your heart to your throat prevented you from saying even a semblance of a coherent sentence. all you could think of when you met his worried gaze, the way he rushed to your side to check on you, was the last thing you read. your grip on his phone tightened.

but i'm not sure if i want things to stop there

you were gonna fucking lose it.

"hey, are you okay?"

quick, gentle hands landed on your cheeks, fingers brushing against your skin like a match igniting a flame. you nearly got lost and tongue-tied all over again, but you quickly slapped his hands away in a scolding fit. "jesus christ, i'm fine. you just surprised me. are you a ghost or something?" you glared at jeno, but it only lasted one second because you couldn't bear to look at him without your insides going crazy. because of that, your eyes flicked to the plastic bag he dropped onto the bench. he brought you something to eat.

"a-and before you ask—" you defended yourself indignantly when he didn't even accuse you of anything. "i wasn't snooping. the school called. it was about your summer program. you got in."

"oh? they called already?" you nodded. "ah, let's talk while walking— the kids are mad because i only got you food. they're asking me to buy the entire store for them to compensate," he released an airy laugh. you mentally scolded yourself.

keep it cool. you repeated the mantra inside your head as you strided beside jeno, your brother and cousin racing ahead of you. street lights were lighting up and the sky was fading into the night. cool cool cool cool cool. keep it cool.

the walk to the store felt way too gruelling than it normally would. it wasn't even that far. you told jeno everything the lady had told you, including the more detailed texts that she'd be sending later on. you thought that he'd be a lot more excited after hearing— he was interested, after all. but to you, he just seemed dismissive. "should i go?" he mindlessly asked.

"what are you talking about?" your brows furrowed. "yeah, of course. you wanted to, right?"

"but it's gonna last an entire month this summer," he yawed, stretching out his arms and hooking you by the neck, causing you to halt and stumble into him. you held back a squeak, and he looked at you, eyes gleaming with curious anticipation. a car sped by. "you still want me to go?"

those damned words that you read echoed inside your head again. you wondered if it resonated into the fucking nerves of your heart, as well.

"i—i mean," you stammered. "it's only one month. and it would also help you a lot in the future, right? you'd make a lot of connections during the camp. so yeah, i do want you to go."

he blinked at you. a hum sounded from his closed lips. he let go of you and resumed walking. you gaped when he left you behind.

was this karma?

"hey, what the hell?" quickly, you caught up to him, grabbing onto the sleeve of his shirt so that you could hang on to him. "why are you being sulky? i didn't do anything wrong!" technically you did do something wrong, but he didn't have to know that.

"you said you wanted me to go."

"you're a baby," you scrunched your nose is disapproval. "i only said that because you said you wanted to go."

jeno abruptly stopped. maybe you were causing a scene in front of all the passersby, but you really didn't give a fuck anymore when your head was in a looped up mess. all thanks to your extremely difficult friend who apparently doesn't want to just be your friend. you swore that he was driving you insane on purpose.

he pulled out his phone and faced the screen to you. your sweat dropped.

[@leejeno replied: but i'm not sure if i want things to stop there."]

"even after reading this," he started. "you still want me to go?"

"w-well."

he just had to be so fucking sharp. well, you weren't exactly slick either. maybe he saw a glimpse of the screen before you got to turn it off earlier. heat started to rise from your neck into your face, a grinding mixture of embarrassment and desire to be hit by a moving truck afflicting your nerves. why were you the one suffering? shouldn't it be him?

"no."

he hummed, turning off his phone and shoving the device into his pocket. arms crossed, he leaned in to your face, bearing a look of feigned innocence. "but you said i'd make a lot of useful connections."

"you can make those anywhere."

"and it's only a month, right?"

"that's thirty days too long."

"and—"

"oh, come on!" you exclaimed, balling your fists in vexation. another car sped by with an accompanied honk. jeno simply wore a look of faint amusement at your little outburst. "i don't want you to join your stupid summer program. happy now?"

"well, if you say so."

you stared at him. he patted your head, eyes disappearing into a pair of crescents with a smile.

"i'll take your word for it and no one else's."

you were left frozen and dumbfounded in the middle of the sidewalk as jeno brazenly spun his heels to chase after the runaway kids that went before you— literally leaving you behind. letting a curse slip past your breath, you also went after them. he was definitely driving you insane on purpose.

sometimes you wondered if this was the same boy who helped you cross the street the first time you met.

this was one of those times.

"you said you weren't gonna go, you asshole!"

"payback for snooping through my phone!"

but you could still love him nonetheless.

#NCT-WRITERS #czennet #neowritingsnet #jeno x reader #lee jeno x reader #nct jeno x reader #lee jeno fluff #lee jeno scenarios #jeno scenarios #jeno fluff #lee jeno fanfic #jeno fanfic #nct dream x reader #nct dream scenarios #nct dream fluff

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graniairish · 3 years

Text

Walking on Eggshells – Part 2

Hello my dears. I just couldn't resist and had to write a second part. (maybe there will also be a part 3)

Pairing: Daryl x female! Reader

Words: 5159

Warnings: language, sexual content, NSFW, 18+ (my first attempt to write smut in English - hope it didn't get too bad)

Part one

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

"Um ... what ..."

You stood in the door of your room, confused. Hershel had finally released you into "home care" after almost a week of continuous surveillance in the infirmary. In your opinion, the older man was exaggerating a little. You were fine, you had no dizziness, and the headache was gone. But that did not stop Hershel from telling you to take it easy anyway.

Your beloved work in the vegetable fields had to wait for the time being.

Somewhat reluctantly, you had agreed to everything, only to finally be able to go back to your own four walls. You wanted to sleep in your own bed again, even if it was just a simple Prison bed in the former director's office. But still, it was your home.

But you did not expect what you found there now.

As if rooted to the ground, you stood in the middle of the room and looked around with big eyes in disbelief.

Your room, your little private realm, should actually be here. But the room in front of you was no longer your room. Your things were still there, but they were not the only ones that filled the shelves on the walls.

The most noticeable change, however, was your bed. It was still in the far corner of the room, but it looked absolutely strange. Because right next to it there was now a second, and the way the sheet was stretched over it made it look like a double bed.

"I thought Hershel wouldn't release ya until tonight," you heard Daryl's deep voice behind you.

Still slightly confused, you turned to the archer. He stood uncertain in the doorway, Crossbow slung over his shoulder, hands clasped on the strap. His blue eyes were fixed on you as he chewed the inside of his cheek - his nervous tic.

And how this man was nervous right now, and it was not just his ears that betrayed him - which had just turned deep red.

Daryl did not expect to find you here now. He actually wanted to talk to you about it first and not just put you in front of a fait accompli. Though, somehow, he would have done it one way or another.

He was afraid he had done something wrong, crossed a line, or something like that.

"I couldn't take it there any longer."

Only now did you notice that his hair was wet and still dripping. Could it be that he had showered?

Daryl nudged his nose up in a nod.

“I know we didn't talk about it,” he began uncertainly, “but Hershel said it would be better if someone took care of ya. And since there is no chance that ya will move back into the cell block, I thought that would be a good solution."

“That's right,” you had to smile, “I'm not going back there so quickly anymore. I like my privacy."

"Well, if it bothers you ... that I ... then ..."

"No no, I don't mind" you might answer a little too quickly, "I ... I was just ... surprised."

The man across from you felt instantly relieved. You, the woman he loved, wanted to live with him. He could hardly believe his luck.

Daryl took off his Crossbow and leaned it against the wall by the door before walking slowly towards you, his eyes full of love.

“Y/N/N we wasted so much time. I don't want to waste another minute. We don't know how much time we have left."

Daryl lovingly cupped your chin with two fingers while he gently touched your lips with his.

You could not help but melt into his touch. That you could do this now was still a miracle to you, and you would enjoy every single second of it to the full.

"But I sleep on the right side," you finally said with mischief in your eyes when your lips had separated.

"Forget it", Daryl snorted and went to the bed, "I'm sleepin’ between the door and ya."

You rolled your eyes with a smile. Always the protector.

"Don't think I didn't see that."

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

A few weeks had passed since the incident during your run. You are now working side by side with Rick in the vegetable fields again. The plants were blooming and developing fantastically - and they would be very good yielding.

After a long shower to wash dirt and sweat from your body, you made your way to the inner courtyard of the prison, which was used as a canteen during the warmer months of the year. Dinner had just started, and so all residents, regardless of whether they were old or new, huddled together to have their meal together.

When Daryl returned from his shift at the Guard Tower, he spotted you chatting with Carol who was just distributing the food. He liked how carefree you looked at that moment.

Without thinking about it, he walked over to you and greeted you with a kiss on the cheek before you had the chance to notice him.

"Yuck, don't do that," you giggled, "you're all sweaty."

"And hungry," he said with a grin.

Carol shook her head with a smile before filling two bowls and holding them out to you.

"Here take these, you lovebirds."

Taking the bowls Daryl nudged his nose up in a nod and went with you to the table where Glenn and Maggie were already sitting.

You had not noticed how your loving and familiar way of dealing with each other had been uncomfortable for some - or at least for one.

Michelle was sitting at a table with several other Woodbury residents and had been watching you with narrowed eyes. Green with envy, she got up at some point and went back to the cell block where she lived.

But Carol had noticed, and she would move heaven and earth to keep this woman from disrupting your relationship.

Little by little, Rick and the other members of your sworn family joined you to enjoy the meal together and to end the day.

"We should slowly start bringing our supplies up to date," Rick skillfully changed the subject.

That was his less than subtle way of reducing the conversation to necessities.

"Or in other words, time for a run," Daryl said in a nutshell.

“Tightly sealable preserving jars would be important. It will soon be harvest time and we have to preserve the fruit and vegetables. Thank God we have a lot more than we need right now."

That was the first thing that came to your mind. After all, it was important to have vitamins in winter too. Even if cooked fruit and vegetables were nowhere near as tasty as fresh ones. But in those times, you were grateful for everything. And in winter, fruit and vegetables were actually a luxury.

“We should also think about how to heat the buildings. The winter could last longer than we'd like”, Daryl expressed his concerns.

"If we had animals, pigs or goats, maybe even sheep, we would be better supplied with meat."

Hershel had always been a farmer, and you could only agree with the man with a smile.

"Or chickens," said Maggie with a dreamy look, "once again a real roast chicken, that would be something nice."

"Or turkey," you added.

"I just think you can't find something like that on the next street corner," said Glenn, who now leaned over the map that Rick had spread out in the middle of the table.

"Well, the weekly cattle market will probably be canceled."

Daryl's cynical response made you roll your eyes.

"If ya keep doin’ this, these things will eventually get stuck," he said in your direction with a raised index finger.

"That's what my grandmother always meant," you said with a shrug, "and nothing has happened so far."

“You both sound like an old married couple. Really disgusting”, Carl shook himself.

You and Daryl looked at each other questioningly for a moment before you slapped the boy lightly on the back of the head at the same time - he on the right and you on the left.

For about five seconds there was absolute silence at the table, until everyone started laughing uproariously as if on command - except for Carl, who was rubbing his head tightly.

“What that would prove,” Rick grinned as he wiped a tear from the corner of his eye, “but seriously now. Does anyone have any ideas?"

“I know there was a farm supply center in the south. From seeds to packaging material to combine harvesters, everything was there. The only question is whether that still stands."

Hershel leaned over the map and pointed to an area southeast of the Prison.

“That's a good hundred miles, and only if you drive on the main roads. It will be a run for several days on back roads."

Your stomach cramped painfully at Glenn's words. You knew that Daryl would go on the run. Unfortunately, since the incident, it had become very clear to you that there was no assurance that someone would come back from a run. And the thought that something might happen to Daryl made you uneasy.

“While we're there, we might as well stop by this huge warehouse complex 30 miles to the east. I think there are still some useful things there. "

Glenn glanced at the place on the map Maggie was pointing with her finger.

"Wasn't that an Amazon warehouse?"

"Yea, why are you asking?"

"Well, I think that this time it won’t work with overnight express."

At Glenn's stupid saying you had to smile, like everyone else. Though yours was more of a bitter smile. This run would certainly not be overnight.

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

"Everythin’ okay? Ya are never that quiet."

It was getting late. The moon was shining through the windows of your shared room and you could hear the crickets outside. You were snuggled close to Daryl, your head on his shoulder, your legs intertwined. You stared in silence into the darkness of your room, which was only faintly illuminated by the moonlight.

Daryl gently stroked your back. Usually there was something incredibly calming about it, and it never took you long to fall asleep relaxed - but not today. The worries about what could go wrong with the run did not let you calm down that night.

In a few hours he would be gone with Maggie and Glenn, as well as a few others. The fear of losing him paralyzes your thoughts.

"Ya don’t sleep. I know that. I can hear ya thinkin’."

You did not answer, just took a deep breath - in and out again. What should you say?

> I'm afraid something will happen to you <

> I'm scared of losing you <

> Please don't go <

There was nothing to be said, just that nagging feeling was there. This fear that the man by your side could suddenly be snatched away from you.

Daryl put his arm around you and hugged you tight as he kissed the top of your head and let his lips linger there for a moment.

"We're a well-coordinated team," he finally began as he leaned his head against yours, "and it's not the first time we've done such a big tour."

It almost seemed as if Daryl had read your mind, yet all his confidence could not take away your worries.

"I promise I'll come back to ya."

"You can't promise that Daryl."

The archer released his hug and shifted his weight so that you were eventually half under him. Leaning on his left arm, he looked down at you, the contours of your face only faintly visible in the light of the darkness.

"I promise I will come back to ya Y/N. We both have our whole lives ahead of us, and I don't intend to miss a second of it."

"Nobody knows ..."

But you did not get any further, Daryl's lips were instantly on yours. At first the kiss was deep and full of longing, but after a while it became more and more hungry. Your fingers ran through his hair and played with them on the back of his neck while your tongues fought for dominance.

As Daryl's hands slowly moved down your ribs, your lips parted for a much-needed breath.

Right at the beginning of your relationship, you discussed that sex would not be an issue for you for the time being. After what had happened to Lori, Daryl simply could not and did not want to take the risk of pregnancy. Condoms were not to be found for a long time. And neither of you wanted to play Russian roulette - like Maggie and Glenn.

But there were other ways of showing how much you loved each other, how much you wanted each other - other ways of having fun together.

Daryl's right hand went down to your ass, which he gripped tightly as he pulled you close.

You moaned softly as you could feel him rubbing his growing erection on your most sensitive spot. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you pulled him closer to you. An approving growl left his mouth as he left hot kisses on your neck, making sure to suck the spot that caused your thighs to tighten around him.

You ran your trembling fingers through his hair, trying to hold onto the feeling of his lips against your skin.

The hand on your ass eventually moved down the back of your thigh - as he pulled it closer - which changed the angle of your pelvis significantly. The lustful moan that came out of your lips as you rubbed against him only made him harder against the layers of clothing.

God how good it felt for him when you took your pleasure into your own hands. But you did not get far, because Daryl's kisses slowly wandered further down. A pleasant shiver ran through you.

You knew exactly what he was up to and the anticipation made you almost impatient.

But he took his time, first freed you from your shirt and then devoted himself to your nipples with relish - first the right, then the left - until they were both hard and upright.

The longing feeling in your most private place became more and more unbearable and in an attempt to get some friction, you tried to rub yourself against his thigh.

Daryl only chuckled.

"Impatient, are we?"

Daryl's kissed down your stomach before leaning back. He was now kneeling between your legs. For a moment he soaked up the picture in front of him, burned it into his memory. How you laid in front of him, lower lip between your teeth, breathing heavily, your legs spread, the unmistakable traces of your arousal on your underwear.

A moan came from your lips as he finally ran his hands up the inside of your thighs. Without touching the place where you needed him most, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties and freed you from this annoying piece of fabric with one flowing movement.

The sight the archer now saw made his cock twitch painfully.

It was almost like torture how slowly he ran his thumb through your folds and collected what already glistened there.

With faltering breath, you watched him as he slowly brought his hand to his mouth and licked his thumb clean with an animalistic growl.

You came almost instantly at the sight.

When he finally sank his middle finger into you, you threw your head back and closed your eyes in delight. He pumped his finger into you a few times before adding a second. He twisted and curled them in just the right way so that with each thrust he perfectly hit the spot inside you that made you squirm under him.

Your moaning grew louder as he closed his lips around your sensitive bundle of nerves and began to suck rhythmically. Your orgasm rolled closer and closer, and the knot in your stomach tightened until it was about to snap.

"Daryl - fuck - I ..."

"then let go - for me."

And that was exactly what you did. You came with his name on your lips, repeated like a prayer, and with each new wave Daryl took whatever you were willing to give him. You tasted like nothing else to him, and he could never get enough of you.

He slowly kissed his way back up to your neck while his fingers were still moving slowly inside you.

Your hands went into his hair and hungrily drawn his lips to yours. Just a moment later your tongues fought for dominance; you could taste yourself on his. Now your hands slowly made their way down to his crotch. He wanted to hold back. But he could not help himself, and grinded into your palm to find the relief he needed so damn bad.

Daryl's hips spasmed, thrusting forward a few times before he was groaning and shaking his head.

"No. Tonight is just about ya."

"But ..."

Before you could go on, his lips were back on yours in a demanding kiss.

" I wanna make ya feel so good today, that ya'll be happy to have a few days off."

And with that statement, his fingers left your hot core, only to re-enter with one more.

Your eyes rolled back when you felt him stretch you.

"Fuck," you hissed as you tried desperately to find hold while Daryl's fingers kept trusting into you.

As he felt the sweet pain of your nails scratching his back, his cock twitched painfully in his shorts.

The thought that you marked him, that you would let him run around with declarations of your love on his body for the next few days, almost drove him mad. He started rubbing his crotch against your thigh for some relief as he fluidly moved in and out of you, getting you closer and closer to your next release.

The knot inside you got tighter and tighter, and you tried desperately to keep it from snaping again. Your legs started to shake involuntarily, and you knew you would not be able to resist much longer. Your breath came in shorter intervals and your moans got higher and higher. It would not last long till you would be swept away by pure bliss.

When the wave finally hit you, it was an overwhelming feeling. Your inner walls clenching and unclenching around his fingers again and again as your orgasm swept you away like a tsunami.

It took you a few moments to come back from your high while Daryl's gentle movements of his fingers let your orgasm slowly fade out.

"Okay", you began with a trembling voice as he slowly left your inner core, "that was something else."

Daryl’s head rested on the crook of your neck as you slowly recovered your breath, but you could still feel him chuckled lightly.

Slowly you stroked his hair and patted his neck. When he shifted his position slightly so that he did not crush you any further, you noticed that his shorts were suspiciously stuck to you.

Apparently, he had enjoyed this whole interaction too.

"I love you," you whispered before leaving a kiss on his sweaty forehead.

"Love ya more."

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

You patiently worked your way through the corn plants with the rake. The work was strenuous because the plants were close together - after all, you needed the greatest possible yield in a small area - and the relentless Georgian sun burned down on you.

Your hair stuck to you and the sweat kept dripping from the brim of your straw hat. Your arms ached, and despite the leather gloves you wore, you had blisters on your hands where they were tightly gripping the wooden handle of your gardening tool.

But despite everything, you kept working. You had to work through the soil so that the weeds had less chance to dispute the valuable nutrients from the crops.

This large field that you had laid out in the style of the "three sisters" was your whole pride. Corn, beans and pumpkins, the holy trinity of this bed, were perfectly coordinated. The Native Americans had already cultivated these three plants in this way.

And what worked for them could work for you too.

You have been toiling for hours. Your clothes were soaked in sweat and your back ached. Nevertheless, you continue to work, moving slowly but steadily through the beds.

"Here," you heard Rick say behind you at some point.

With great effort you straightened up and massaged your back. You felt every single vertebra as it slowly popped back into its original position. An exhausted moan could be heard as you finally turned to the man behind you.

Rick just stood there, bottle of water in hand, his eyes fixed on the fields.

You gratefully took the bottle from him and took a few sips of the refreshing liquid. Especially with such sweaty work in the blazing sun, it was incredibly important to drink enough if you did not want to suffer sunstroke.

And unfortunately, you were predestined to forget it sometimes. But Rick paid attention. You were family, and family looked after each other.

“Looks really good. If the plants continue to grow like this, we will be able to bring in quite a good yield. You are really a talented little farmer."

You looked at him in surprise with raised eyebrows.

"I'm not sure right now whether I should thank you or whether you insulted me."

“Believe me Y/N”, Rick laughed and put his hand on your shoulder, “that was meant as a compliment. An honest compliment. If we didn't have you, we almost certainly wouldn't even be able to harvest half as much. You really have a knack for it."

“Well, everyone does what they can. And I can do that."

You lowered your gaze. You felt uncomfortable when someone complimented you, so you tried to belittle it.

"No", Rick smiled at you friendly, "some do more than others."

After a long day of work and a long - but cold - shower, you sat down with Carol for dinner. You missed your family members. You missed Daryl.

The presence of the older woman had been a comfort to you in the last few days. This run had been going on for five days now, and it was impossible to tell when they would be back.

The feeling you felt in the pit of your stomach was almost the same as when Daryl had disappeared into the forest with Merle. Back then you thought you would never see him again.

But it was different now. Now you had hope that you would see him again.

Maybe.

“It's only been five days Y/N/N. It's too early to worry,” Carol tried to cheer you up.

"I'm not worried," you said stubbornly while you continued to stare at your now cold food.

"Yes of course. That's exactly why you've been poking around in your meal for ten minutes. You haven't even taken a bite."

You looked tiredly at the woman across from you.

“Eat, you worked hard. And tomorrow you will work as hard again as I know you. You need the calories. And believe me, you'd rather eat it voluntarily than have me cram it into you."

Carol had used her best mother voice. Even if Carol was not many years older than you, this woman had somehow become a mother's substitute for you.

After a few moments you finally began to empty your bowl slowly.

Getting around the days was easy. There was always enough work in the gardens and in the fields, you were busy and did not have much time to think.

In the nights it was different. They were bad.

The bed was way too big for you alone, and you lacked the warmth of Daryl's body.

Even on the hot nights of Georgia, you always fell asleep snuggled together. Ever since you had spent your first night like this, you knew that you could never do it again without it.

Now you were alone. Yet again. Daryl was still on this fucking run, and the solitude in those four walls that you had always enjoyed before, now seemed overwhelming to you.

What is he doing right now? Was he okay? Was he thinking of you, too?

With these wistful thoughts, you finally drifted into a dreamless sleep.

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

"If they are not back by tomorrow, we will send a search party out," announced Rick over breakfast.

You made no reply as you continued to choke down your small portion of porridge, bite by bite. You were not really hungry, but Carol's stern look had kept you from skipping breakfast.

“I'm sure they are fine. They will definitely be back here soon, "said Hershel soothingly," they are all experienced with such actions. They are sure to be fine."

Yes, they were all experienced, knew how to behave and how to protect themselves, but that nagging feeling persisted in you.

You had spent the whole morning working in the fields again, laboriously dragging buckets of water to provide the crops with enough moisture. If it did not rain soon, this would probably be your main occupation for the next few days and weeks.

You had two canisters tied to the outer end of a thick wooden stick. So, you could carry the heavy burden on your shoulders and not in your aching hands.

As you were trudging up the hill again with a full load of water, Rick was leaning against the base of the central guard tower, smiling, and staring into the distance.

"Looks as if we could save ourselves the search."

These words made your body tingly and you immediately turned to face the gates. You could not prevent an unspeakably bright smile from spreading on your face.

"Oh my god," you whispered when you saw the column of cars approaching the prison.

An unmistakable chopper at the head of the convoy.

An army of butterflies exploded in your stomach when you saw Daryl. He was back. He really came back to you.

When he finally brought his bike to a stop and casually dismounted it, you couldn't hold back any longer. Without further hesitation, you dropped the water canisters, which hit the floor with a thud, and immediately spread their moist contents over the floor.

You ran quickly towards Daryl. But even before you had covered half the distance, he was already coming towards you - a radiant smile on his lips.

When you finally met, you immediately put your arms around each other in a tight hug. Your head rested on his chest while he laid his head lovingly on top of yours.

Cuddled so tightly you could hear how fast his heart was beating, and an indescribable feeling of happiness flooded your body. Daryl was back - back by your side.

"Did you miss me," he finally began, and you could hear him grinning right away.

“No,” you answered, “not at all. Not one bit."

“Felt the same way."

With these words, his strong arms tightened around you even more, as if he were trying to melt into you.

So absorbed in your reunion, it took some time until you noticed that Rick and Carol were already discussing the successful run with the rest of the group.

"We got almost everything," you heard Glenn say when you had finally separated from each other and now went to the cars where everyone else was standing - your little fingers still hooked together.

"We found hundreds of canning jars and even seeds," added Sasha.

"Wheat, oat and a lot more." Maggie pointed to the back of the overcrowded pickup truck.

"And we also solved the problem with the heating," said Daryl mysteriously.

This run was really a complete success. But the biggest surprise was yet to come.

> C O C K A D O O D L E D O O <

Suddenly the gushing and loud greeting was silent. Inquiring eyes met knowing faces.

You and Rick looked at each other as to ask if you really had heard this now.

> C O C K A D O O D L E D O O <

"What the hell is that", Rick wanted to know.

"What did it sound like?"

Daryl grinned mischievously and leaned casually against his bike; arms crossed over his chest. His chin raised challengingly.

"No," was all you could say at that moment.

"Yea," Daryl nodded, still grinning.

"No way!"

"Yea, a rooster and six chickens."

"How? Where? How?"

You were completely surprised and had to grin broadly. That was one of the best that could have happened to your community.

"Believe it or not, they were just walking around on a street corner," Glenn explained, looking incredulous about his statement himself.

"So the cattle market wasn't closed after all," you replied sarcastically.

Immediately Daryl had to roll his eyes.

"Just don't start with that," you chuckled and gave him a playful clap on the upper arm.

“You really missed something Y/N,” said Maggie with a grin, “believe me it was really impressive to see how Daryl caught the poultry. Didn't know that he was doing so well as a farmer."

"Yea, ha-ha, very funny!"

Daryl's ears had turned deep red, but then he had to laugh himself at the thought of this chicken-catching operation.

"I really would have liked to see that," you said with a laugh.

"Well, maybe there will be a repetition," said Glenn, "we have to get the critters out of the car somehow without them getting lost again."

"Ya can forget that right away," Daryl announced in a stern voice.

"Don't worry, I'll help you", you smiled at your boyfriend.

After a few minutes of reunion, you started to get the supplies out of the cars and to distribute them in the storage rooms.

Building a chicken coop was definitely on your to-do list for tomorrow. And it has been a long time since you had been looking forward to a job as much as this.

"And I found something for you too," Maggie whispered to you when she put her arm around your shoulders in a friendly manner.

You two had just cleared away a load of canning jars and were about to trot back to the cars.

"And that would be?"

Surprised you stopped and looked at her questioningly. You did not ask her to get you anything.

“I won't tell you yet,” she smiled, “but you will definitely enjoy it - as well as Daryl."

With these words, your best friend left you in the yard as she made her way back to the cars with a mischievous grin.

Part one Part tree

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl imagines #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl dixon fluff #daryl x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon twd #daryl x y/n

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pineapple-hoseok · 3 years

Text

Happy Birthday!

Pairing: Yoongi x f!reader

Genre: A whole lot of fluff, soft Yoongi, 13+

Warnings: Some cuss words and Yoongi being a lovesick puppy

Word Count: 3.7k (wow that’s the longest one shot I’ve ever written)

Summary: It’s your birthday and Yoongi doesn’t know what to get you. He has a huge crush on you and he wants everything to be perfect.

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Your birthday was tomorrow. You knew it, your best friend knew, the boys knew it, Yoongi knew it. How could Yoongi forget one of the most important days of the year? Well, it wasn’t as important as everyone was hyping it up to be, but it was for Yoongi. Especially because he had the biggest crush on you since Jimin introduced you to him and the others over a year ago. And he was going to use this day to finally tell you how he felt, using the advice Jimin gave him.

The only problem was, he didn’t know what gift to get you. You were supposed to be meeting up at their dorm tomorrow afternoon so they could celebrate with you and Minah, one out of two of your best friends, and he still had no idea what to buy.

Even as he stood in the middle of the shopping mall about a mile from the dorm, he was clueless and running out of time. So he did what he thought of as a last resort and dialed a number.

The boy on the other line answered with a tired ‘Hello?’, making it clear to Yoongi that he had just woken up from a nap. “Jimin-ah, I need your help.”

“Are you trying to find a gift for Y/N but you have no idea what to get her so you’re calling me to see if I can give you an idea of what to buy since I’m her best friend and I know her better than she knows herself?” That left Yoongi speechless.

Jimin knew of the older boy’s crush on you, hell, all the boys did. Even Minah, who was also one of the densest people in all of Korea, knew. Everyone could tell by the way Yoongi’s mood would lift every time you walked into the room, his obvious attempts of getting closer to you on movie nights, spending hours in his studio showing you songs he’d been working on, even letting you hear him sing after he swore he didn’t have the ability to. And when you told him you loved his songs and his voice, he felt his heart do a backflip in his chest. But somehow, you didn’t notice.

“How the fuck did you know that?” Jimin rolled his eyes so hard, Yoongi could practically hear it.

“You’re so easy to read when it comes to her, hyung.” The Busan boy sighed, sitting up in his bed once he realized he wasn’t getting any more sleep. “You already know Y/N’s really into photography, and I just happen to know her camera just broke. She needs a new one.”

Yoongi’s eyes widened, wondering to himself how he didn’t think of that before. “Thanks Jiminie, I owe you.” Jimin mumbled a simple ‘hell yeah you do’ and hung up the phone, but not without reminding Yoongi how much he loved him. The older male externally gagged, but internally smiled.

He knew you would never accept a brand new camera from him, but he was going to force you to take it, since he knew how much photography meant to you. He couldn’t live with himself if he knew you couldn’t do the thing you loved, and that he had a way to help. So he walked into Best Buy and made a beeline to the camera section. He knew absolutely nothing about cameras, but he was lucky to have a worker show him the best one for taking 4K pictures. Yoongi thought you’d really like an upgrade from your previous camera, which was kinda crappy considering that you got it for cheap.

Oh yeah, Yoongi thought, Y/N is definitely going to kill me. The boy, who usually kept his feelings to himself, found himself smiling at the thought of what your reaction would be. You’d definitely give him the worst death glare you could muster up, but he knew you would be actually trying your hardest not to cry. So as he swiped his credit card in the card reader, his excitement to give you this gift only grew.

Yoongi sat at his desk later that night, ignoring the calls of all the boys and their questioning of the bag he had in his hands. He pulled out a piece of paper and a pen, getting to work on the second half of his gift for you.

Meanwhile, you were laying on Minah’s bed while staring up at the ceiling, your best friend sitting on her desk chair. You had no idea what she was doing, but you didn’t question it. Everyone seemed to be keeping something from you lately. First, Minah begged you to sleep over, then you caught her talking to Jimin on the phone about god knows what. Now, she was telling you that the two of you were going over to the boys’ dorm because she forgot her favorite sweater there.

You fished your phone out of your pocket and texted the only person you thought you could get information out of.

If Hoseok didn’t know anything, that means they probably kept him out of it. He was probably the worst liar you had ever met, he couldn’t keep a secret to save his life. But you dropped the subject as soon as Minah stood up from her desk chair. She gestured for you to move over so she could get in the bed too. Back in Busan, you, Minah, and Jimin had been sleeping in the same bed since you all were in diapers, so this wasn’t weird at all to either of you.

“Minah?” You spoke in a soft voice, causing the girl to turn to look at you.

“What’s up?”

You bit your lip, thinking for a second. “What if everyone forgot my birthday? The only person that has said anything about it was Hoseok.”

Minah had to keep herself from smiling. “I’m sure everyone remembers, there’s still a half hour until your actual birthday. Don’t worry, okay?”

You took her word for it, trying your best to calm your racing thoughts. For the next half hour, you and Minah talked about memories you both had from middle school, including the time the two of you drew all over Jimin’s face in middle school when he fell asleep in class. He was still holding a grudge against the two of you for that.

Before you knew it, the alarm clock on Minah’s bedside read twelve am.

Minah jumped up and wrapped her arms around you, screaming ‘happy birthday!’ so loudly in your ear that you were sure her neighbors heard her. You laughed, the girl’s strength knocking you down on the bed while you hugged her back.

“Thank you, now get off of me!” As soon as she did, your phone rang. It was your parents calling you from Busan to wish you a happy birthday. You thanked them, making sure to tell them that you were gonna visit soon before you hung up. Other than that, you had no more calls. Not even from the person you wanted to call you the most, Yoongi.

Everyone knew about your crush on Yoongi, the two of you were really bad at hiding your feelings. But apparently you weren’t, because neither you nor Yoongi knew how the other felt.

Every time you hung out with him and the boys, you always found yourself smiling more than usual whenever he talked to you. And the moments you two spent in his studio listening to a song he wanted to show you only made your stomach fill with butterflies. He seemed to get you more than anyone else did, not even Minah and Jimin. You also couldn’t forget how gentle he always was with you, despite what people have said about him having a cold exterior. Whenever you had a movie night with the boys, Yoongi would always end up sitting next to you, even sharing his blanket with you when you got cold. He’d scold you whenever he caught you speaking badly about yourself, telling you never to do that again. Whenever you were upset and needed comfort, he always let you call him no matter what time of night it was. You couldn’t help but fall for him, which is why you felt disappointed when you didn’t get a text or call from him at midnight.

Your lips turned down in a small frown, but Minah didn’t notice. Instead, she explained that the two of you should sleep so you could go to the boys’ dorm early in the afternoon. You turned onto your side, pulling the covers over your shoulder as you closed your eyes and let sleep take over you.

You woke up to the sound of a higher pitched male voice singing happy birthday. As your eyes opened, you noticed it was Jimin singing to you while holding a cupcake with a single candle in it, Minah smiling widely behind him. They gave you a second to sit up in Minah’s bed, a wide smile taking over your features. You closed your eyes, making a single wish before blowing out the candle on the cupcake Jimin was holding out for you. He set it on the nightstand, allowing you to jump into your best friend’s arms and thank him profusely. Jimin’s arms picked you up and lifted you off of the bed, spinning you around once before setting you down on the floor.

“Happy birthday, loser.” You laughed, reaching up to ruffle the boy’s hair.

“Yah, that’s noona to you.” You honestly didn’t care about honorifics, but you did it just to tease Jimin about your one year age difference like you always did. He rolled his eyes, pushing your hand away from him while you laughed even more.

“Now go brush your teeth and put on something nice after you shower, you stink.” Minah pushed you towards her bathroom, leaving you confused. If you guys were only going to the dorm to pick up her sweater, why did you need to wear something nice? At this point you learned not to question anything Minah said, so you just went along with it and started getting ready.

About an hour later, you were dressed in a black skirt and a matching black blouse that you found in Minah’s closet after you forgot your clothes at your house. All you did to your hair was brush it out and style it a little, but you liked the way the wavy style looked on you. Once you stepped out of the room, you found Jimin and Minah whispering about something, with Jimin briefly looking down at his phone.

After you cleared your throat to get their attention, they turned to look at you.

“Perfect, let’s go.” Jimin grabbed your hand and brought you over to the door, telling you to put on the black low top vans you came in before leading you and Minah to his car. Throughout the entire car ride to Bangtan’s apartment building, Minah kept bouncing excitedly in her seat. Jimin on the other hand, kept telling her to stop before he threw her out of his porsche.

Soon enough, the three of you arrived at the building, making your way up the familiar elevator before walking down the hall. You were about to put in the code to the front door before Jimin slid in front of you so he could do it himself. What a child.

He sent a quick text from his phone before putting in the door code. The lights were off inside the big apartment, and you wondered where the boys were. Were they all out and Jimin was the first one home? Dismissing the thought, you took your shoes off at the entrance and put on the slippers the boys got you a few months into your friendship with them. You were about to start looking for Minah’s sweater until all of a sudden, the lights turned on and six boys jumped up screaming.

“Surprise!” You would’ve fell on your ass if it wasn’t for Minah who caught you from behind, everyone laughing at your reaction. All around you were balloons and streamers in an array of colors, the entire living area of the dorm looking festive.

You started tearing up, your hand fanning your eyes as you looked around at the seven boys -- plus Minah -- that planned this surprise party for you.

“You guys did all of this for me?” They all nodded, all of them running over to hug you before you could burst into tears. You hugged all of them individually, each boy wishing you a happy birthday. Hoseok came up to you, wrapping his arms around you in a friendly hug. Aside from Jimin, Hoseok was the next boy you considered as one of your closest friends in Bangtan.

“I swear, Y/N, I didn’t know anything about this until an hour ago.” You laughed, hugging the boy tightly.

Next was Yoongi. He walked up to you with a smile on his face, holding his arms out for a hug. Your arms wrapped around his neck as his wrapped around your waist, your heart doing backflips and somersaults in your chest.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call you to say happy birthday at midnight, they took my phone so I couldn’t contact you and ruin the surprise,” He spoke, his lips right next to your ear making his soft voice send shivers through your body. You hugged him for a second longer than the other boys before pulling back from the hug.

“It’s okay, I wasn’t worried.” That was a lie, but you decided that Yoongi didn’t need to know that.

The two of you walked over to the living room where the rest of the party was, your body immediately taking a seat next to Seokjin when he offered you one of the switch remotes to play Mario Kart with him.

That’s how the party went for the next few hours. A Mario Kart tournament between you and your eight friends took up a lot of the time, but you ended up beating everyone. You knew all of them had let you win, because there was no way you could beat Seokjin, Jungkook, AND Taehyung. But you didn’t mind, you got a crown made out of paper as your prize.

At last, it was gift opening time. Everyone sat on the living room floor, letting you use the couch as your throne as you opened each gift.

“I told you guys not to get me anything.” You whined, earning a bunch of comments from the peanut gallery to shut up and open your gifts.

So that’s what you did, starting with a gift from Jungkook. He got you the new pair of vans you’ve been wanting and were telling him about last week. Taehyung got you a gucci necktie to match his, Hoseok got you a pin that says ‘I <3 New Zealand’ from when they visited the year before (which you laughed at), Seokjin got you an Eevee plushie to match his, Namjoon got you a copy of the book he was reading which you asked him for a while ago, and Jimin got you a signed cd of his single ‘Promise’. After each of the boys gave you their gifts, you hugged each of them and made sure to tell them how much you really liked everything.

Then Yoongi gave you his. It was in a wrapped box and it felt heavy. You prayed that he didn’t get you something expensive, after you specifically told everyone not to buy you anything expensive. But you carefully opened it anyway, the wrapping paper revealing the box of a brand new Canon camera. A chorus of surprised sounds came from everyone, your eyes widening while looking down at the box. This camera was a huge upgrade from the shitty one you had before, which broke after some random guy bumped into you while you were taking pictures one day.

“Min Yoongi, I’m gonna kill you.” You mustered the best death glare you could give him. If looks could kill, the boy would be six feet under by now.

“Well I’m not taking it back, and there’s no refunds or returns so you have to accept it.” He wore a smug smile on his face that you wanted so badly to wipe off completely. You would definitely murder him in his sleep later.

You set the box down next to you and sighed in defeat, going over to hug him too.

“Thank you, it really means a lot to me.” Your voice was soft as you thanked him, and you could feel him smile against your cheek. You were about to go back to your seat when Yoongi stopped you.

“Actually, there’s something else I have for you,” He looked around at the curious eyes of everyone staring up at him, “in private.”

This set off another chorus of ‘woah’s from all of the boys, Minah only snickering in the corner. After telling them all to shut up, Yoongi stood and gestured for you to follow him to his room. You stood and followed closely behind him, ignoring the stares you felt on the back of your head.

Yoongi led you into his room and closed the door behind him so you two would have privacy. Your heart was beating wildly in your chest, wondering why he brought you here.

“So I kinda wrote you a small note, and I didn’t want you to read it in front of everyone so I brought you here.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, handing it to you with red cheeks. You didn’t know how to react except for responding with a small ‘thank you’ before opening the note.

Dear Y/N,

I kinda feel like an idiot writing this letter to you, but I didn’t know how else to tell you. Okay I’m just gonna say it, I like you. Like really like you. I like spending time with you, whether it’s with the boys or alone, I like showing you the songs I’m working on, I like when you sit close to me on movie nights, I like when you smile and literally light up any room you walk into, I like how little strands of your hair fall into your eyes and you don’t even notice it, I like the way your dimples pop out every time you smile, I like everything about you. I really like the way I feel when I’m around you, like I get this tingly feeling in my stomach and I can feel my heart do little flips in my chest, and I just feel really happy when I’m around you. Everything in me just wants to keep you happy, because you look really beautiful when you smile, and your laugh is probably more contagious than Hoseok’s (and that’s saying a lot). My point is, I’m wearing my heart on my sleeve right now and I just wanted to ask you something.

P.S: Look back up at me when you’re done reading this.

You had tears in your eyes by the time you looked back up at a nervous Yoongi, his hands shoved in his front pockets to keep himself from fidgeting with them.

“Now that you know my feelings, will you please be my girlfriend?” Yoongi couldn’t tear his eyes away from yours, not until he heard your answer. Right now, he was giving his heart to you in hopes that you wouldn’t break it. He was revealing a vulnerable side of him that only you got to see, and that he had never shown anyone.

You smiled as a few tears slipped past your eyelids, which made Yoongi immediately go into panic mode.

“Oh shit, did I do something? I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have done that-“ You cut him off by chuckling lightly, shaking your head.

“Shut up and kiss me, idiot.” Your hands reached up to rest on his cheeks, pulling his face closer to yours until your lips met his. Almost immediately, his hands rested on your waist, pulling your body closer to his.

The kiss lasted a little less than ten seconds before both of you hesitantly pulled back just enough to look at each other’s faces.

“Yes,” You spoke softly, causing a confused look to take over Yoongi’s face. Laughing lightly, you realized he completely forgot about his question. “I’ll be your girlfriend.”

Yoongi smiled his gummy smile that you absolutely adored, his arms wrapping around your waist to hug you again. The size of your smile mirrored his as your hands ran through his hair.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this.” His head pulled back, leaning down to kiss you again. You broke the kiss after a second, though, much to his dismay.

“As much as I just want to kiss you all night, we have a crowd of people waiting for us outside.” Yoongi whined, only making you laugh more. But you were serious about going back out there, taking hold of his hand and walking back out of his room. The two of you walked hand in hand back to the living room, smiling at all of the surprised faces staring back at you.

“Finally!” Jimin called out, earning himself a slap on the back of the head from Seokjin. But everyone agreed with Jimin’s opinion, congratulating you and Yoongi.

You all decided to end the night with cake and a movie. Everyone called for you to pick the movie while Minah got up to grab the cake in the kitchen, so you picked ‘Toy Story 2’ again. They all started complaining, but you just smiled and pressed play on the screen.

Instead of sitting on the couch like you normally would’ve, you decided to sit on the floor in between Yoongi’s legs, leaning your back against his chest. You felt two strong arms wrap around your waist, looking back to see your now boyfriend looking back down at you with a smile on his face. Making sure no one was looking, you leaned up to quickly kiss his waiting lips before resting your head back on his shoulder, your arms resting on top of his.

This was officially the best birthday ever.

#bts oneshots #min yoongi #yoongi oneshots #yoongi drabbles #yoongi fluff #bts suga #suga #agust d #suga oneshots #yoongi x reader #bts x reader #bts drabbles #yoongi fanfic #bts fanfiction #yoongi fanfiction #boyfriend yoongi

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greengrayeyeswrites · 3 years

Text

shit-faced in love (chapter five)

Title: shit-faced in love

Pairing: Corpse Husband x OC (fem!youtuber!reader)

Word Count: 1,158

Warnings: Mental Health/Mental Illnesses are a big topic in this story. Mentions of depression, bpd and other mental illnesses. Angst, Fluff.

Note: This may be a Corpse x OC story but feel free to insert yourself into the main girls role. If Corpse ever announces that he doesn’t like fanfics about him, I’ll delete this.

Prologue — Chapter 1 — Chapter 2 — Chapter 3 — Chapter 4 — Chapter 5 — Chapter 6

Author’s Note: Hello guys! I am very, very sorry that I didn’t update this any sooner. I’ve had a lot of troubles with my mental health lately, especially my bpd acting up and making me feel so worthless I wanted to punch myself in the face with a chair... But I thought that I need to get my shit back together and post a new chapter. I am really sorry about the delay. All these likes I am getting on a story that I mainly write for myself is overwhelming... so a massive thank you!

Also HAPPY BIRTHDAY CORPSE!

— — —

Imogen ended up being MIA for two whole days. She didn’t update her Twitter after cancelling the stream and didn’t upload anything on her Instagram story and her feed.

The day after her bad mood swing she stayed at home and Baylee came over. The two girls were spending the day on the couch watching silly old-school romcoms; Buddy sitting in between them in case Imogen needed him.

They were watching movie after movie, falling asleep in between and Imogen felt bad for Baylee. She apologized for being so unmotivated, boring and weird today but Baylee quickly shook her head and told her that it was okay.

Imogen couldn’t believe how happy she was to have Baylee as her friend, but since she was shifting from black to white thinking and back to black, she couldn’t really feel the happiness she knew existed somewhere.

All she felt was emptiness and sadness. The episode lasted four whole hours and Imogen fell asleep crying in the middle of it.

On her final day in Houston, Imogen and Baylee decided to go shopping and Imogen wanted to spoil her best friend. She got her a new computer and a new phone—which Baylee couldn’t quite believe. But Imogen was persistent and wanted her to keep the things.

Imogen then rented a beautiful NCT green colored Jeep Wrangler; which the girls immediately tried out when they were driving to the Space Center Houston for their last day.

„You almost sounded like MrBeast, when you gave me the phone and Macbook“ Baylee chuckled, as the girls looked for a parking lot in front of the Space Center. „I mean I’m meeting him and the crew next week for the first time, so I have to practice“, Imogen grinned, feeling way happier then a few days back.

„D’you already know what you’re doing with them?“ Baylee asked, but Imogen shook her head, when her phone rang with a message notification.

„Would you mind?“ Imogen asked nodding towards her phone, that was peeking out of her totebag in front of Baylee’s feet. Buddy was lifting his head from the backseat, looking at his owner and her friend.

„You got a voice message from Corpse“ Baylee read the notification on the lock screen and Imogen gulped. „Would you mind playing it?“ The twenty-eight year old asked and Baylee nodded, unlocking Imogen’s phone and pressing play.

The first thing both girls could hear was shuffling in the background before Corpse’s deep voice rang in their ears. „Whaddup baby?“, he asked and a shiver went through Imogen’s body, while she maneuvered the car into a parking lot.

Baylee slapped her hand over her mouth, staring at Imogen in shock. Hearing his go-to phrase so close to her ears and so intimate was kinda scary. Baylee felt like she was eavesdropping.

„How are you feeling?“ Corpse asked, „We were kinda worried when you didn’t respond to the group chat. I know I go MIA as well but you usually told us what was wrong. Rae was worried and I was as well. Please text us soon, so we don’t have to worry anymore.“

A quiet breath left his lips and Imogen looked over to Baylee, who was still covering her mouth. „I hope you finish your MrBeast stuff soon. I want to meet you real quick!“ Corpse finished the message and the phone screen turned black.

„Oh my god“ Baylee let out and stared at Imogen. „I felt so bad for listening, Mo!“ She cried out and Imogen gulped. „I feel so bad for not telling them what happened. I know how worried they get when I don't text!“ Imogen shook her head.

„Here, here!“ Baylee pressed the phone into Imogen’s hands. „Text them now! Tell them how you’re feeling and what you’re up to today!“ Baylee turned around to Buddy.

„Buddy, I can’t believe I heard Corpse speak like that! He was genuinely worried!“ Imogen watched her best friend and shook her head.

She had to be honest. Hearing Corpse’s voice like that made her heart jump a little bit. What was he doing with her? She didn’t even know what he looked like, yet he made her heart do weird dancy-dances.

She knew Baylee was watching her, while she typed into her phone. She knew Baylee wanted to know what she wrote—and she would’ve told her, if she wouldn’t be so shy about it.

When the women came home this night, Baylee decided to crash over in Imogen’s AirBnB. They stayed up most of the night and talked about everything and nothing. They were talking about Baylee’s crush on her co-worker, that didn’t even notice her presence. They spoke about Imogen’s therapy and medication and how Buddy had helped her out of so many dark places already; and then, as the sun was about to rise again, they fell asleep.

— — —

They woke up to Buddy licking their faces, wagging with his tail only a few hours later. Baylee sat up and looked at Imogen, fighting her dog off her.

„You know what? I’m going to miss you.“ Imogen finally got Buddy off her and looked at Baylee. Tears filled her best friends eyes and Imogen looked at her. „Bay“, she whispered and crushed her best friend in a hug. „This week went by way too fast“ Baylee cried into Imogen’s shoulder. „I swear, before I go back to Ireland, I’ll take you on a vacy to Hawaii. So be prepared to take a few days off, once I’m done with my travel!“

Imogen started laughing and Baylee grinned. „Gotcha!“

After having a breakfast together, Baylee helped Imogen pack her stuff and load it into the Wrangler. Imogen was fastening Buddy in the backseat, when she closed the door behind her and hugged Baylee once more.

„Take care, Mo.“ Baylee said and squished Imogen’s cheeks. „I will.“ - „No, I’m serious. When you feel low or sad or empty , turn off the cameras and hold Buddy. Okay?“

Imogen smiled. „I will. Thank you, Bay.“ The girls hugged once more, Baylee clinging on to Imogen as if her life depends on it. „I just wish I could quit my retail job and follow you around, being your camera woman or something.“ Baylee sighed and Imogen looked at her.

Imogen’s brain buzzed. „Keep that in mind, Bay. Okay? I’d even pay you.“ Baylee looked at Imogen and the Irish lass grinned. „Whatever you say, big girl“ Baylee grinned and softly banged the side of the Wrangler.

„Go and take the NCTzen car through the states.“ Baylee grinned and stepped aside to her own car. Imogen grinned and climbed into the Wrangler.

„Good luck on these 1,270 miles!“ Balyee yelled, as Imogen turned on the engine. „Take breaks in between okay?“ Imogen nodded and started backing out of the driveway.

Baylee disappeared into the distance and a piece of Imogen’s heart broke, when she left Houston behind.

to be continued...

Taglist: @wineandionysus @chanbaeol @rexit-mo

#corpse husband #corpse husband fandom #corpse fandom #corpse fanfiction #corpse husband imagines #corpse #fanfiction #imagine #corpse x reader #corpse x oc #corpse x you #corpse x yn #corpse husband x reader #corpse husband x oc #corpse husband x you #corpse huisband x yn

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tennessoui · 3 years

Note

when is anakin going to get his revenge and kiss divorced obi-wan back

yes hello this got out of hand and the best moment would be in the hypothetical part two but here is a KUWSK directly post kiss from Anakin's pov. For context, this snippet and this snippet probablllyyyy should be read?

(2.8k, ffs @ kit)

“He was thinking about Satine,” Anakin tells himself after he drops the kids off at school and starts making the drive back home. His hands are tight on the wheel. He’s been trying to think about something else--anything else ever since it happened, but his mind refuses to let go of that moment.

He’s replayed it so many times in the last hour and a half that it doesn’t even feel like an actual memory anymore, just a combination of sensations.

The chill of the almost winter morning that made the hair on his arms stick up. The tacky feeling in his mouth because he had slept a bit later than he had wanted to and didn’t have time to brush his teeth if he wanted to make breakfast before the kids and Obi-Wan left.

The woodsy-spiced smell of Obi-Wan’s cologne, stronger than normal. They’d been standing closer together than normal too, but it had been so early and Obi-Wan’s mind had obviously been miles away.

Anakin had been saying something stupid, something that didn’t mean anything, and Obi-Wan had replied and then Obi-Wan had leaned in and kissed him, full on the mouth. His beard had felt so soft against Anakin’s skin, his lips even softer, if a bit chapped.

Had they been chapped? Now Anakin can’t remember, he’s turned this memory over in his head so often. It had been for less than a handful of seconds. A quick brush of lips, a taste of a life Anakin has dreamt about for well over a year now. And Obi-Wan had just turned and left, as if he hadn’t done anything extraordinary. As if he hadn’t just kissed Anakin on the porch for everyone to see.

Obi-Wan would never be that cruel on purpose. Perhaps to that one profesor who always tries to refute Obi-Wan’s papers, but not to Anakin.

Which means Obi-Wan hadn’t been thinking. He had been perhaps caught up in the domesticity of it all, of having someone wish him luck and see him off. And maybe Anakin has been doing something like that for the last two years, but there’s a person who did that for Obi-Wan for much longer. A person they ran into at the park just two days ago.

“He was thinking about Satine,” Anakin tells himself as he gets out of the car and unlocks the house. He tries desperately to keep the despair and jealousy out of his voice, but at least no one’s around. It’s not that he hates the woman or anything. Really, he doesn’t. He doesn’t understand her, but that’s a given.

He’d never have Obi-Wan’s heart and soul and throw it away. He’d never get tired of fighting with Obi-Wan if he was fighting to stay with the man. He’d never be able to run into him at a park and then just leave again as if seeing him stirred up nothing inside of him.

Seeing Obi-Wan always stirs things up inside of Anakin. It makes no sense that Satine, who had had Obi-Wan’s love--knew all those things about the man that Anakin did not and could not know as just his housemate--had just been satisfied with saying hello and then just as quickly goodbye.

The same cold sinking feeling that Anakin’s been trying to shake off for the last two and a half days returns, and he has to lean against the countertop in the kitchen for a second to ground himself.

They’re going to get back together. They will.

At the park, they had seemed so in their own world, as if everything else had disappeared except for them. Anakin had had to send Luke over, couldn’t stand watching that reconnection happen without at least trying to remind Obi-Wan that he has a family now, that he’s not alone anymore, that there are people who love him.

Obi-Wan had glared at him for his meddling, which hadn’t admittedly done wonders to his confidence. And when Obi-Wan had deposited Luke--Luke--on the ground to chase after Satine, when he had hugged her, Anakin knew for sure.

They were going to lose him.

Anakin had had his set of chances and had taken none of them, and now Obi-Wan’s going to re-fall in love with his ex-wife and Anakin’s going to have to be the supportive best friend who has to figure out how to tell his children that due to unforeseen and tragic circumstances, their Obi is probably going to elope to Paris and maybe send a postcard once or twice a year addressed solely to the children and Anakin will grow old and die alone and the name Obi-Wan Kenobi will be banned from his small, shadowy apartment, and all Anakin will have is a few memories of the two most important and heart wrenching kisses he’s ever been a part of in his entire life.

“He was thinking about Satine,” he tells himself. “He kissed me but it wasn’t about me. It hasn’t ever been about me.”

There’s no denying that Obi-Wan loves Anakin’s children and also no denying that his children love Obi-Wan. Anakin thinks he wouldn’t love Obi-Wan half as much if he hadn’t absolutely been charmed by the kids and vice versa. But he had been. They had been. Those few weeks when Anakin had thought about leaving a year ago had been absolutely awful because he knew he would be breaking his twins’ hearts, not just his. He’d be hurting Obi-Wan too, he had known that.

But he had had to try. Because he knew that if he didn’t try to leave then he’d have to be dragged kicking and screaming out of Obi-Wan’s life when it came time for the man to grow tired of his presence.

It had been a last ditch attempt at saving his dignity. And it hadn’t taken much argument from everyone else to get him to abandon the idea completely.

Now he can’t help but to think he should have put his foot down, gotten some distance. Because now he’s entrenched in Obi-Wan’s world, the same way Obi-Wan is entrenched in his and the twins’ world. Leaving now will feel like ripping himself in two. He’ll probably wake up in the middle of the night five years from now and wonder about the academic response to Obi-Wan’s most recent publication.

He’ll probably have read it. He’ll probably still be fielding questions from his kids’ friends’ parents about whatever happened to that handsome man that used to come in to help during Show-And-Tell Day? Do you remember who I’m talking about, Anakin?

If he had left then, the idea of leaving now wouldn’t hurt so much. But there’s a ticking clock in his head.

Obi-Wan kissed him.

But he was thinking about Satine.

He calls Padme, because that’s sort of what he does when he doesn’t know what to do. She’s never turned him away--with the rejected marriage proposal being the one glaring exception, of course.

Thankfully, she doesn’t start now, though she does sound a little stressed when she picks up.

“Hey,” he says trying to sound normal and as if he isn’t a few minutes alone with his thoughts away from crying like a baby.

“Ani?”

“Are you--are you busy? Something sort of happened.”

“My flight is boarding,” Padme admits, but there’s a rustle on the other end of the line like she’s just sat down. “But it’s not like I’m not assigned a seat. They won’t leave without me. What happened?”

Anakin smiles in spite of himself. She’s really just such an angel of a person.

“Are the children alright?” she asks, sounding worried the longer it takes for Anakin to respond. “Ani?”

“No, yeah, the children are fine. I dropped them off at school this morning. But. Um.” He takes a deep breath. “Obi-Wankissedme.”

“I’m sorry?” Padme asks.

“Obi-Wan kissed me.”

The other end of the line is silent. “And we’re calling this a problem now?” she asks faintly. “Is he a bad kisser?”

“He’s a great kisser,” Anakin defends, shifting awkwardly on his feet, catching sight of the fridge door and quickly turning away.

“Then I don’t…?” Padme trails off uncertainly. Anakin can understand this confusion. Padme has only had to hear about how much Anakin wants Obi-Wan to kiss him for about two years now.

“I don’t think he realized he did it,” Anakin confesses. “He just did it as he was leaving. Because I said goodbye. It--I don’t think he realized who he was kissing.”

Now Padme sounds a distinct mix of skeptical and sympathetic, a tone Anakin’s only ever heard her use with him. “What makes you say that?”

“Because--because we went to the park the other day and he ran into his ex-wife and they were together for, for years so--so obviously he just--he wasn’t--it wasn’t me he was kissing. He was thinking about Satine.”

The words sound dull and practiced and lifeless.

“Oh, Anakin,” Padme says.

“And they’re probably gonna get back together, and we’re going to have to leave, and he’ll never know that I--” Anakin cuts himself off and thunks his head on the countertop with a groan.

Padme hums disbelievingly. “Anakin, I know you’ve never believed me when I say this, but that man is gone over you. And I think if he kissed you long enough for you to tell me for certain that he’s a good kisser, then he definitely knew he was kissing you.”

Anakin bites his lip and debates the pros and cons of being completely truthful. But he had called Padme for help, and she can’t provide the best advice if she doesn’t know the full story.

“That’s not the first time he’s kissed me,” Anakin finally admits, rubbing bashfully at the back of his neck.

“What?” Padme exclaims, probably much louder than appropriate for a public space. “Anakin Skywalker, explain yourself right now.”

He exhales forcefully. “Last New Year’s Eve party.”

“That was almost a year ago! And nothing else ever happened between you two? What? We always thought that once the first kiss was out of the way we’d need to beat you both with sticks to keep you off each other.”

“Well--wait, who’s we?”

Padme tsks. “Myself and Obi-Wan’s coworker.”

“You’ve been gossiping about me?” Anakin asks, torn between being flabbergasted and offended.

“That’s not important right now,” Padme says airily. “What’s important here is the fact that you apparently kissed Obi-Wan Kenobi and never told me?”

“He doesn’t remember, okay?” Anakin snaps. “He. We’d been drinking. A lot. It was after everyone left. And. I was in the kitchen and he was in the kitchen and he--”

--had pinned him to the front of the fridge and just looked at Anakin for a few seconds like he was the most precious, important thing in the entire world, and Anakin had opened his mouth to say something and Obi-Wan had--

“--kissed me,” Anakin says out loud. “And then he--”

He had pressed impossibly closer to Anakin, one hand wrapped around his hip, caressing the thin skin there while his other hand ghosted down Anakin’s hair and back as if he couldn’t decide where he wanted to touch, as his tongue mapped out Anakin’s mouth for what could have been seconds or minutes, and Anakin could have stayed there forever, but his own hands had grabbed too tightly onto Obi-Wan’s shoulders, must have jerked him forward too roughly, because he had been pushed away and--

“--threw up in the kitchen sink,” he finishes.

There’s dead silence on the other end of the line before Padme bursts out laughing. “Okay, okay,” she says once she’s calmed down. “But how do you know for sure he forgot about that? Sounds like something he might just never want to talk about if it ended up with him vomiting in the kitchen.”

“I just know,” Anakin promises. And he does. Obi-Wan had no idea about that kiss. It was a secret Anakin thought about too often, but one he had kept to himself for nearly a year, too afraid to reveal it to Obi-Wan only for the man to say he hadn’t meant to, it hadn’t meant anything, he’d been much too drunk.

Even the idea of Obi-Wan apologizing for one of the hottest kisses Anakin’s ever experienced in his life has been enough to keep Anakin silent on the matter.

But now he’s been kissed again, this time by a sober Obi-Wan, and it still--it still doesn’t mean anything.

“It didn’t mean anything to him then, or he would have remembered,” Anakin tells Padme. “And this one doesn’t mean anything either. The timing is just...it can’t be a coincidence, Padme. He’s never once thought about kissing me, about...about coming home to me like that, and now, a few days after he runs into his ex-wife he’s suddenly planting one on me as he walks out the door? I know--I know you think he...he might...he might have liked me, or...or wanted me, but. There’s no way I can hold a candle to a decades long marriage. I just. I can’t compete with that. He doesn’t want me to.”

Padme’s Anakin is cut off on her end by what sounds like a flight attendant. “Yes, I’m coming,” Padme tells the person, and there’s shuffling and then the distinct sound of the harsh beep of the ticket scanner, before Padme’s heels are clicking on the flight tunnel. “Do not rush me,” Padme tells someone. “What are you going to do, close this thing while I’m in it?”

Anakin has to hide his only sort of watery smile in his hand as he listens quietly on his end.

“Anakin?” Padme asks, and she must be on the plane because there’s a buzz of other people’s noises around her. “Anakin, I know you won’t believe me, and maybe--maybe you’re right and they’ll get back together, maybe you’re going to lose him.” Anakin’s heart hurts quite painfully at these words. “But do you remember what you did the first time you proposed to me and I said no?”

Great, yeah. Just bring up all his biggest failures in love. Sure, why start with Padme? When Anakin had been five he had tried to kiss a boy and been shoved into the mud for his efforts. That’s a fine place to begin, really. Just drag up all the old hurts. He sighs. “I went and got you a bigger ring.”

“And do you remember what you did when I told you that I couldn’t raise the children, but my parents wanted to?”

“I threatened to take them to court if they didn’t let me have them,” Anakin says. It hadn’t been his proudest moment, of course, but Padme’s parents had never really liked him. They still don’t.

Someone’s trying to talk to Padme on the other end of the line. “Yes, fine,” she snaps. “Anakin. Anakin, what I’m trying to say is I’ve never seen you give up on anything without at least trying to fight for it. And I don’t know why this should be different. You won’t be able to live with yourself if you have to watch him get back together with his ex-wife and know you never even tried to tell him he had other options.”

Anakin opens and closes his mouth, speechless. “Then what--”

“So go,” Padme cuts him off. “Go tell him he has other options! For fuck’s sake, yes, alright I’m getting off the phone. Anakin, when I land I expect to have a very detailed account of events waiting for me on my email. Goodbye.”

She hangs up. Anakin stares at the phone in his hand for a handful of seconds, thinking over what she’s said. What she’s implied.

She’s right, of course. Anakin never gives in this easily. He doesn’t fully understand why he’s so ready to capitulate now. Maybe he knows full-well he can’t compete with whatever Obi-Wan had with his ex-wife. They have history. They grew up together, became adults together. Anakin’s just this weird twenty-eight year old man with a pair of kids too old for his age who crashed at Obi-Wan’s house during the lowest moment of his life. Of maybe both of their lives.

Love can’t bloom from that. Not really. Not...not the sort of love that turns into a lifelong marriage.

But. Padme’s right. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he doesn’t try. If he doesn’t know for sure.

So either he could putter around the house all day waiting for Obi-Wan to text or call or come home, talking himself into and out of confessing every emotion he’s harbored for the man for the past two years, or….or he could drive to his campus and confront him in his office, put himself on the execution block and hand Obi-Wan the axe. At least it would be a quick death.

He glances at the digital clock on the oven. 9:38. The idea of waiting ten hours for a resolution makes his skin crawl.

And besides.

Obi-Wan hadn’t packed a lunch.

#this is unread through #because i have housework i have put off in order to type this #i think we all know where this is going though #anakins gonna Do Something Ill-Advised #asks #KUWSK #poor anakin :'(#i imagine obi-wan was probably very pensive for the rest of the day after the park #and anakins just panicking and thinking that he's thinking about his ex wife #and obi-wan kind of is but he's mostly thinking about his new family #and he's thinking a lot about anakin #if only they c o m m u n i c a t e d

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mourntheantagonist · 3 years

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#HarringroveApril Day 16: Nostalgia

***

When Billy signed those discharge papers, piled into his dented Camaro and headed west towards the sunset despite the screaming redhead banging on the windows crying “please don’t go!”, with an aching chest both metaphorical and physical, he didn’t think for a second about looking back.

So how he ended up back in the same shithole he turned his back on ten years ago was entirely beyond him.

He had made a life for himself in California. He got his associates degree at the local community college and worked his way up from a nine to five teller position at the local bank all the way to branch manager, making an upper middle class salary. It was easy work. Boring work, unfulfilling work, but easy and worth every penny. He had a couple of friends, mostly coworkers, more so acquaintances than friends. He had a fancy apartment in the city, he went on dates, though they usually ended in one night stands where the other guy snuck out in the dark hours of the morning leaving Billy to sleep in a bed that was just too big for one person. But he was free from all of those forces in his life that always held him back and pinned him down, and each and every one of those forces just reeked of small town America.

He hadn’t heard a peep out of Hawkins since Max had given up on calling around eight years ago, or at least he hoped that she’d given up and something worse hadn’t happened to her. He regretted not answering those calls everyday. The guilt of leaving her behind like that weighed heavy like an anchor, but he did it anyway. Bad decision after bad decision he was surprised he made it to where he had today, and he just wished she’d call again.

But he also wasn’t sure enough of himself that anything would change if she did, and that phone would likely remain on the hook until the ringing stopped and she was left to the sound of his voicemail.

“You’ve reached Billy Hargrove. Leave a message.”

He wasn’t home the day she finally did call, which fortunately took that decision away from him. Her message was tossed in with a mix of telemarketers and employees calling in for days off, it could have easily been dismissed, passed over like every other piece of junk in the system if her voice hadn’t been exactly the same as it was the day he left her.

“Hey Billy, it’s Max. I know you probably don’t give a shit, but Neil died of a heart attack last night…” Billy stopped listening after the words ‘Neil died’ came over the speaker. He had to replay the message to hear the rest because by the time he’d gathered himself it had already ended. “...the funeral is next Saturday in Hawkins. Nobody expects you to come but I thought you should know anyway and that everyone would still like to see you. Call me back at…” Billy wrote the number on the back of a blockbuster receipt and set it flat on the counter quickly with a firm hand and a quick retraction, like it might burn him. Max’s name and a ten digit number below it in a blue ballpoint pen stared back at him and he just drummed his fingers on the counter and bit his lip trying to think everything over.

He looked at it for probably another thirty minutes while the rest of the voicemails cycled through in the background before he decided to make a call of his own. Slowly and shaking, he dialed the phone number and tried to even out his breathing while he waited for the sound of the pick up. He was partially hoping that it never came.

But it did. The click sound was followed by a voice that didn’t belong to Max, but one he still recognized.

“Hello?”

Billy took in a deep breath. “Hi. This is Billy.”

“Wow, I’m surprised you actually called.”

Billy huffed and if it had been ten years earlier he would have already hung up the phone by now.

“Who is this?”

“Lucas Sinclair. I take it you want to talk to Max?”

Billy tensed at the mention of her name, as if that hadn’t been the whole plan in the first place. “Yeah,” he said, a little bit of shakiness to his voice, “could you put her on?”

After a few short moments of silence and a little bit of movement in the background, he heard her.

“Hey Billy.” she sounded… glad… and it made Billy let out a heavy sigh of relief.

“Hey Maxine.”

“It’s Max.” There was that tone, she hadn’t changed at all.

“Yeah, I know.” There was a pause, Billy twirled the phone cord around this index finger to the point it started going pink and then purple while he tried to get the question to leave the tip of his tongue. “So, he’s really dead?” he asked, blunt as ever.

“Yeah. I don’t expect you to want to come for the funeral, but I just thought you should know, and if you need a place to stay you can– hold on one second” Billy could hear muffled bickering and Max yelling ‘Lucas Sinclair’ through clenched teeth and it brought a smile to his face. It reminded him of all those times he’d eavesdrop on her phone calls with him just to piss her off, just to hear her yell at him through their shared wall before she’d chase him around the house. Those were good days. “As I was saying. You can stay here if you need. We have a spare room.”

“Thanks for the offer.”

“I really hope you decide to come.”

“We’ll see.” He was just about to hang the phone back up, but he stopped himself, “Hey Max?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s nice hearing the sound of your voice again.”

Billy wound up taking the week off and driving that same old Camaro, restored back to its former glory, that did the distance twice before, back over to Indiana, to the place he said he’d never go back to, and he really couldn’t figure out the reason why he didn’t just go into work. There was nothing to drive him to go but the weird feeling in his gut that refused to go away until he called in, and a little bit of that pressure was released.

For each freeway exit he came across on the over thousand mile journey he contemplated turning around, getting back on that on-ramp going the other direction and save himself from whatever hell he’d be walking into.

Because that’s what Hawkins was to him. Hell. There were monsters like his father, and then there were real, legitimate monsters as well and Billy wasn’t safe from either of them, well he was safe from one now. He couldn’t imagine why Max decided to stay in the shithole and not get out like he did.

Maybe that’s what makes him the coward.

The welcome to Hawkins sign gave him chills. He remembered seeing that for the first time, following behind the rickety Uhaul pulled by their beat up truck when Billy decided not to follow them into their next turn, and instead got lost on the “scenic route” of Hawkins which really meant “trees, trees, and more trees” when he hit the Quarry’s dead end and nearly went off the cliff into the water below.

At the time he might’ve thought it would have been better if he had.

A lot of things had looked to have changed about the town since the last time he saw it. Places that he remembered being nothing but vast forests now had neighborhoods and restaurant chains and the place that once had a natural canopy was now completely deforested and exposed to the sun.

But the Quarry was exactly the same as he left it.

From the beer cans crushed and scattered, to the sounds of gravel pieces bouncing up and chipping the paint on his car.

The continuities continued to add up when he stepped foot out of the car, pulling on that same old denim jacket he hadn’t worn in years after trading it in for a suit and tie. His boot hit the gravel path just like it always had, with that same stomp that demanded attention, like each time he got out of that car he had to play into the dramatics, put on the mask and play the part he chose for himself. The breeze and the smell, it was all the same as before, as if the industrialization just several blocks north hadn’t had any effects on this little corner of the town where the birds still sang their songs in harmony and the smell of nature was pungent. It felt like no time had passed at all.

But it had been the sound of a rumbling BMW rolling down the crushing gravel that made him feel exactly like he was back in highschool again, the same rotten kid who used fists as forms for problem solving, the kid who as an adult had worked on his impulsivity, standing there, staring up the gentle slope with his fists clenched so tight his fingernails left marks on his palms. All that work, all that progress he thought he’d gone through, thrown straight out the window at just the mere sight of something from his past.

The BMW pulled up beside him, and the quarry apparently wasn’t the only thing that hadn’t changed. Steve still had the same big swooped back hair and that same exact look on his face when they made eye contact through the passenger window, the same exact look he had the day he told him he was leaving, and screamed at him to get out of his hospital room.

That was the last time they spoke.

Steve got out of the car without a word and just leaned against the door, looking him up and down, and Billy didn’t feel like he had any right to say the first word, considering he’d had the last one.

“It’s good to see you Billy.” Steve broke the silence, and it was almost startling, with both the sudden change of volume, and the sound of that voice he’d almost forgotten singing in his head like a song he didn’t remember learning the lyrics to.

“Is it?” Because it felt like it was all just a formality coming out of his mouth.

He wasn’t expecting an answer to that, so he shouldn’t have been surprised when Steve changed the subject. It was oddly refreshing seeing Steve write the script this time, steering the conversation his way.

“Looks like we both kept our old wheels,” he said, slapping the top of his car twice, maybe a little too hard. The sound of a hand against metal echoed through the trees. “though there’s not as many dents from what I remember.”

“I had it restored.”

The majority of Steve’s body was hidden behind the car that separated the two of them, but he could see in the way that his shoulders moved that his hands had found his own hips, doing that same stance of a mother who just caught their kid in the act of something naughty. “Some good memories happened in that car.”

“Some bad ones too. Or do I need to remind you how the dents got there in the first place?” Billy crossed his arms over his chest, as if the thousand pound chunk of metal that served as a barrier wasn’t enough to protect him. Because it felt like Steve could see directly through him with the way his head tilted when Billy threw his words back at him. Because they both knew that it was horseshit. Memories of whatever happened between Steve and the Camaro existed only in the dents that remained and the neck pain that still lingered. He didn’t actually hold any grudge about that, and he never did.

Because Steve was right. There had been good memories in that car, some he didn’t remember until seeing him again, some that still played in his mind when he went to sleep at night. Maybe that was the reason he kept it around for so long, that one piece that contained all of those few good times, all of those times with Steve.

“You were always so good at that.”

“What?”

“Deflecting. Pushing people away.”

Billy opened his mouth to defend himself, but there was nothing that came out but his own breath, but Steve filled that silence anyway before Billy would have even had the opportunity to speak.

“You cut your hair.”

It was like he was being interrogated.

“Company policy, they practically had to strap me down and take the clippers to my head themselves.”

Steve actually laughed, and it seemed genuine at least. Billy pulled out the pack of red that he always kept on the seat like it was muscle memory. His hands would only ever stop shaking when he had that little stick between his fingers, and they were only shaking more since Steve got out of that car.

“You still smoke?”

Billy put the cigarette in between his lips and lit up, pausing for a nice drag before bothering to answer Steve. Just letting his eyes fall shut and experience just a short moment of relaxation.

“Some old habits never die”

Steve pursed his lips. Every single one of his mannerisms were exactly the same. This one meant that he wanted to say something that he didn’t know if he should.

“Was I just an old habit too?”

“Steve–”

Steve just kicked the side of his car with his knee, sure to leave a dent of his own. The sound was loud enough that the consistent stream of chirping birds transformed into a cascade of flapping wings as the birds on the trees flew away from the scene. He walked around to the front of his car and the physical object that once created separation was gone, and suddenly Steve was within reach and he couldn’t breathe.

“Glad to know it’s harder to quit nicotine than it was to quit me!”

Billy chucked his lit cigarette at the ground and scuffed it with his heel into the gravel. “Who told you it was easy?!” He had a finger pointed to Steve and had closed their distance a few feet more, less than an arms length apart from each other.

“You left!”

“Because I had to! You know I did!”

“You didn’t have to leave me!” Steve practically screamed that final word, his face was now just inches away from Billy’s and he was nearly foaming at the mouth and from an outsider's perspective, Steve looked about two seconds from either kissing him, or killing him.

He did neither. He took a step back and recollected himself with a dramatic clearing of his throat. “You didn’t even ask me to come with you.”

“And you don’t think I regret that every fucking day of my life?” Billy’s voice broke, trembling throughout the sentence like he was containing a ticking time bomb. “Why are you even here?”

Steve just rolled his eyes at the steer. “Max sent me.”

“Of course she fucking did.”

“She cares about you y’know.” Billy scoffed, because how could she? After all he did to her? He could still hear those palms banging against those windows and her muffled screams for her to stay every time he got into that car. “Why are you here?”

“Did she not tell you the part where my dad died?”

“I know damn well you didn’t come all this way to pay your respects.”

Billy let himself drop to the ground and sit on the rough terrain with his back against his tire, unable to continue standing, his legs were ready to betray him.

“I have no idea why I’m here, okay? I just am.”

Steve nodded his head, and he didn’t say anything, no quip back in his face, he just followed Billy to the ground.

“Are you upset he’s gone?”

Billy let out a groan and tried to rub the growing migraine from his temples.

“I’m feeling a lot of things, but I don’t think ‘upset’ is one of them.” Neither of them said anything after that. They just sat there on the ground and enjoyed the silence together like they used to do. Looking up at the clouds and arguing over what shape they were. There’d be none of that today though, and it had nothing to do with the overcast skies. “You still keep a six pack in your trunk?”

Steve laughed and got up from where he was seated and popped the trunk. He was right. Some old habits never fucking die.

Steve tossed a can over to Billy and sat back down on the gravel, maybe a little closer than he had been before. Billy took a long swig and swallowed the bitter taste down. He hadn’t drank much since he was a teenager, he traded in his Coors for Cola and he doesn’t understand how he used to enjoy the taste of it before.

“Why did you stay in Hawkins?”

Steve dug his heel and pushed a pile of rocks forward, kicking a plume of dust into the air.

“Nobody ever gave me a reason to leave.”

Billy wanted to ask if he would have even come with him had he asked him to. But he opted against it, instead just taking another drink from the can and a genuine “I’m sorry.” passed his lips.

“You know I followed you?”

“What?”

“Yup. Made it all the way to St. Louis before I turned around.”

Billy was just staring at him at this point, unsure if he’d just heard him right. He just sat there with his mouth agape, catching flies and waiting for Steve to say more.

“I knew that you needed to go. I knew that you were hurting and it took me almost ten hours on the open road to realize that you needed time to heal.” Steve’s eyes looked glossy and his cheeks flushed but he kept his smile on. “So I came back home, and I waited here for you to come back. I wanted to make myself easy to find when you needed me.”

“You waited for me?”

Steve inched his hand over to where Billy’s was propping himself up and let his fingers gently trace the back of his hand. Steve’s touch was everything. It made his heart start racing and his palms start sweating and it felt just like 1985 all over again.

Billy took Steve’s hand in his own and entwined their fingers together and Billy let out a long exhale as they did.

“Billy,” Steve said softly, scooting his body just a little bit closer, less than a foot of separation now between the two of them, and he looked Billy in the eyes. Billy had almost gotten entirely lost in those pools of deep brown before Steve had the chance to speak again. But he heard it, loud and clear. “I’m still waiting for you.”

He waited.

Waited ten fucking years.

Billy wasn’t going to make him sit there and wait for a kiss too.

Billy closed the distance at the moment the penny dropped, sinking all of his weight into the kiss in a frantic and uneven pace just like they were eighteen again trying to squeeze both of their bodies into the backseat of the Camaro, refusing for even a second to separate themselves from the one point of contact that sealed them together like glue. The kiss felt just like their first. In the same spot, instead under the stars and the two of them both drunk off their asses, and that time Billy tasted of only blood and liquor.

But it was that same feeling. That desire to never pull away, that fear that it would end and that it would be the last time. He had that fear with everyone of Steve and his kisses, that each one might just be their last.

So he made a point to savor all of them.

They kissed until they physically couldn’t anymore. Out of breath with swollen lips and an inability stop the smiles that peeked through every couple of seconds. They sat there with their foreheads touching and their clasped hands still intact, relishing in the heat that was each other’s breath on their faces. Billy was crying, just streams of tears paired with a smile that Steve gently wiped away with his thumb, the brush of contact making him shiver.

“I missed you so fucking much.”

Steve cradled Billy’s head in his hands and peppered a few short kisses to his lips.

“I missed you too.”

“You think this is why Max invited me here?” Billy asked. “I can’t imagine she’d actually think I would want to come to this thing.”

Steve laughed. “No. She’s not an idiot. She figured you’d want to crash the funeral.”

Billy immediately got up from his place on the ground and held his other hand out for Steve to grab onto. “Well you wanna join me while I go piss on my old man’s grave?”

Steve took his hand without hesitation and let Billy pull him up off the ground.

“It would be my honor.”

Hawkins made a lot of bad memories for Billy, most of which he locked somewhere far away, but the good still remained. Right there in the look on Steve’s face with the way he looked back at him.

And he was happy to make a couple more.

#billy hargrove #harringrove #stranger things #steve harrington #mandi writes tresh #ficlet #harringroveapril #harringrove april

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ill-be-your-honey-bri · 3 years

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The early afternoon heat of LA was radiating off the pavement as Harry made his way up the Azoff-Christiaansen driveway after his five-mile run. He could feel his grey tank top stick to his back and couldn’t wait to take a cool shower to rid himself of the grime and LA smog that had accumulated on his tanning skin.

Since the tour had ended, Harry had been staying as a house guest. He had made it a point to do some small chores around the house as a way to show his appreciation. On his way in the house, he had checked the mail and picked up the newspaper that was laid on the doorstep before he had keyed his way into the home. He was greeted by an overly-excited Myles, who happily wagged his tail, seeing his best friend had returned home. Harry made sure to give the pup some much deserved scratches behind the ears, before walking him to the back of the house to let Myles out to do his business.

Harry returned to the counter leading to the kitchen, where he had dropped off the mail after grabbing a glass of water. He flicked through the pile, knowing that there might not be anything for him, but organized and separated it for the homeowners when they returned from work. Towards the end of the pile, he came upon a ruby red envelope that had, not only Jeff and Glenn’s name, but also Harry’s. He had read over the font and looked to the return address, a smile began to spread on his lips.

Since it was also addressed to him, Harry decided to open it. Upon turning the envelope over to pop open the lip, Harry saw the gold wax was sealed with an embossed “D”. He ran his forefinger along the seam to expose the milky white cardstock, edged with gold flake. He had pulled out the invitation to the 40th Wedding Anniversary for Don and Elenore D’Angelo.

Harry met Don at Shangri-La Studios when he was just starting his solo career. Don just so happened to own the studio.

Don was always so warm and welcoming, as was his studio. It seemed fitting that the studio fell into the hands of Don, always in the world of music since he was a child. His father was in an Italian folk band when he was growing up in Italy; He was certain that the music world was where he needed to be. He had always known that he had wanted to be a music producer, to help musicians make music the way they want, to sound the way they desired. He had decided to move to one of the only places that made sense to make music; Los Angeles. Music in the ’70s was booming in LA and after learning the trade, Don was lucky enough to get a job at Shangri-La, which is where he had met the love of his life.

One day, when Don was working, he met Elenore, his Ellie, who had been interviewing The Band at Shangri-La. She was one of the first women to be working for Rolling Stone as a writer. She was a 70’s work of art with her Farrah Fawcett hair, high waist wide legged trousers, and a cropped tank top. She was a firecracker. She gave Don a run for his money when he had tried to get a date with her but when she finally agreed, he had always joked that “she couldn’t say no to the Italian charm”.

Harry had always loved hearing their love story whenever he was lucky enough to see them both at the studio. He has always been a hopeless romantic, so it was an honor to be invited to a monumental anniversary. Harry had walked over to the fridge and grabbed the puppy faced magnet to post the invitation on the door to remind him and his roommates of the date of the party.

September 29, 2018

Jeff had called up to Harry as he was spritzing on his Tom Ford, gently placing it on the dresser before walking to the bed to pick up his suit jacket. He pulled the simple black blazer over his shoulders, flattening out the black velvet lapels while taking a final look in the mirror. He ran his fingers through his hair, breaking up the curls he had just put product into. He had lightly jogged down the stairs, meeting Jeff and Glenn in the front hall before they collectively went to the car to make their way to the anniversary party.

The party was in full swing when they arrived. The venue was already full of people, some of which Harry had known, including the rest of the Azoff family. Harry had come to learn through Jeff that the Azoff’s and D’Angelo’s had “practically grown up together”. Irving Azoff had met Don at a party when they were both starting their careers and the rest was history.

Irving was quick to call his son and company over to him where he was sharing a drink with the man of the hour. Don was quick to give firm hugs all around, beaming and resting his hand on Harry’s shoulder.

“Long time since I have seen you! You look good!” Harry blushed at Don’s compliment, agreeing that it had been too long since they have been together. Don was just about to say how excited Ellie was going to be to see him but she was already making her way over to the group before Don even had the opportunity to warn Harry of her eagerness.

Harry had turned to his left, away from Don, when he felt a hand rest in the middle of his spine. A wide smile grew on his face as he saw Ellie start to wrap her arms around Harry’s neck, squeezing tightly and kissing his cheek thrice. She pulled away, holding his cheeks in her hands, her glowing smile lighting up the room.

“I’m so glad you could make it! It has been too long!” Harry’s hands remained on Ellie’s waist as he nodded his agreement, commenting on how he and Don had just said the same thing. “You should come over for dinner on Sunday, join the family! We would love to have you there.”

She had continued to hold his cheeks, rubbing her thumbs on his blushing cheekbones as a shy grin formed on his lips. With a quiet, “alright, I’ll be there,” he agreed to dinner. Don was chuckling as he watched his wife swoon over the boy. He mumbled her name to grab her attention and it took her a moment, but she finally looked to Don and saw one of their sons approaching. She gasped and grabbed Harry’s hand pulling her over to her eldest.

“Harry, have you met our son, Justin?” Harry had reached his hand out to shake hands with the man, who looked like a younger version of his father.

“We may have met once, I believe, at the studio?” Justin had nodded in agreement.

“Nice to see you again man,” He greeted. A woman had walked over to their group and wrapped an arm around Justin’s lower back, catching his attention. “Have you met my wife, Christine?”

Christine had smiled at Harry and shook his hand, telling him that she was a fan of his first album and how she went to both of the LA shows. At this rate, Harry felt like there was a good chance he would be blushing all night. Christine’s attention was quickly pulled away, to what Harry was told was their two children, Dylan and Matthew. Two other men were quick to walk over to the group, both kissing Ellie on the cheek and hugging Justin.

“This is our other son, Micheal, and his husband, Dean.” Both shook hands with Harry as they greeted themselves. Micheal was quick to pull Justin away with him, leaving Dean with Ellie and Harry. Ellie was looking around the room, clearly searching for someone. Harry took the opportunity to take a look around the room as well.

He watched Don walk over to them, kissing the top of Ellie’s head. “Have you seen our baby, Don? I want to introduce-”

She was cut off when the music had stopped and there was a clearing of a throat in a microphone. Everyone had turned to the stage and whoever was front and center was a vision.

She was dressed in a soft yellow sundress with light brown leather wedge heels. Her smile matched Ellie’s, who happened to be beaming back at the girl on stage.

“Hello everyone. Um, I just wanted to thank you for coming out to celebrate our parent’s love.” Oh. Harry didn’t know that the D’Angelo’s had a daughter.

“Us D’Angelo kids wanted to perform a little something for you, Mom and Dad. Seemed fitting since we are the damn Partridge Family.” The crowd had laughed as she had scoffed a laugh into the microphone. “So, Mom and Dad, if you would kindly make your way to the center of the floor…”

Don had grabbed Ellie’s hand, kissing it softly as they walked to the middle of the room. Their daughter turned to grab an acoustic guitar and nodded at Michael who was sitting behind a piano, and Justin behind the drumset. She made her way back to the microphone and the first chords to a song Harry knew very well, began to fill the room.

“Looks like we made it, look how far we’ve come, my baby. We might’ve took the long way, we knew we’d get there someday.”

Don and Ellie began to sway to the song, held close to each other, and exchanged smiles and kisses as they listened to their children perform. All eyes were on the couple but Harry couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

She performed effortlessly, hitting every note perfectly with her warm and angelic voice. He watched her delicate fingers switch chords and strum soothingly. She was smiling down at the couple in the center of the floor as she finished the song. Without waiting for the applause, she was quick to put down the guitar to climb off the stage to hug her parents. Harry watched the interaction as well as watched as she made her way to the bar.

Harry’s feet had a mind of their own as he found himself at the bar next to the D'Angelo's daughter. She was leaning over, talking to the bartender while tapping the toe of her shoe into the floor to the beat of the music. She had turned to look and the man standing next to her, which so happened to be Harry.

“Well, hi! My mom was waiting for this moment all day.” She was breathtaking; her smile was like sunshine breaking through storm clouds. He could get lost looking into her warm eyes. They were surrounded by long, dark lashes and her long dark hair was in loose curls cascading down her back. He had to fight the urge to wrap one of the silky curls around his finger.

She continued to look at him, raising her brows as her smile grew. “I’m Bianca, by the way. Nice to meet you, Harry.”

He cleared his throat and reached his hand out for her to shake, “Nice to meet you too”. He felt her soft hand, also littered with rings of gold, just petite for her smaller hands. He turned her hand to look at the jewels, which had caused her to laugh.

“I was just about to look at yours too.” He smiled as he continued to hold her hand in his, his pointer finger of his free hand running over the jewels. He had pointed out one that he liked in particular, it sticking out more than the other simple ones.

“It was my mom’s. It was the first piece of jewelry my dad got her. I’ve been obsessed with it since I was little, always stole it, so she just gave it to me one day.” Harry smiled, knowing the feeling of stealing loved ones’ things and wanting to claim them as his own. She had also looked at his, both complementing the metals and jewels.

Her drink came to the bar and Harry had ordered a drink for himself, both sitting on stools to enjoy their drinks with each other. After ordering his drink and she began to sip on her limoncello, he knew he had to know more about her.

“You are a great performer. All of you are. I guess you weren’t wrong about the ‘Partridge Family’ comment.”

She had smiled as she was finishing her sip, “It’s not hard to be a musical family when you're surrounded by music.” Harry nodded in agreement. She was focused on her drink, running her finger around the rim of her glass.

“Ever since I was little, there was always music. Dad owns a studio, mom used to write for a music magazine, and now books about musicians. Justin is a manager for bands like fucking Metallica. Michael is a composer for movie soundtracks and used to work in orchestras for Broadway, that’s how he met Dean.” She finally looked at Harry again, tilting her head like a cute puppy, “He’s a dancer.” She smiled and suggestively raised her eyebrows, making the both of them laugh.

“And you?”

She hummed, “What about me?”

“What do you do?”

“Well, my brothers had nicknamed me Jack.” Harry had looked at her curiously, the nickname nothing like her own. She giggled at his furrowed brow and confusion written all over his face.

“Jack of all trades, master of none. I have done a little bit of everything, but as of late, I have been lucky enough to be a freelance creative director.”

“Freelance?” She was in the middle of a sip when she hummed a ‘yes’, slowly turning so she was facing him more.

“I’ve been hired for music videos, photoshoots, fashion shows. I’ve even worked with a few of your people; Harry and Harris.”

Harry’s eyebrows shot up, “No shit?” He turned his head slightly and thanked the bartender for the refilled glass. She had turned away from him and pulled out her phone, pulling up her photos to show Harry some pictures of her with Lambert and Harris. She even showed him some of her work, quick to pass over sketches she had done, though he could see that she was also talented in her art.

“So you do a little bit of everything and you're good at it. I would say that you have mastered a lot of talents, Bianca.”

This was the first time tonight that he had seen her flush. It could be the limoncello, but he will keep thinking that it was his compliment. She breathed a soft ‘thank you’ as she put her phone away.

She had heard the call of her name, looking over to the dance floor where her sister-in-law had been motioning for her to join. Her two nephews ran over to grab both of her hands to drag her to dance with the rest of her family to one of the most well-known Whitney Houston songs. She threw an apologetic look over to Harry before joining her clan.

Harry watched on from the bar, seeing this alluring woman swaying with her youngest nephew while belting out lyrics with all the other bodies on the dance floor. Harry couldn’t help but yearn to know everything about the D’Angelo who has caught all of his attention.

October 4, 2018

The sky was still in a hazy pink as Harry, Kid, and Mitch walked from Harry’s car to enter Shangri-La. The air surrounding them filled with the salt of the ocean and that heavyweight of heat, moving from one air-conditioned place to the next.

The house was clean and pristine when the boys entered, Don already in the kitchen, setting up the catered breakfast and coffee maker. Don looked to the door as it opened, smiling and wishing the boys ‘good morning’ as he quickly went to wash his hands to give everyone a proper greeting. Don encouraged the boys to make themselves their plates of food and guided them to the studio for them to make themselves home.

Harry was eating some vegan bacon as he followed Don. Upon entering the studio, he saw the back of a girl in overalls and a tie-dyed t-shirt, with her dark messy hair sitting at the top of her head. She was sitting at the piano but Harry could hear no sound.

“My bambina loves to warm up the instruments before they are used to record.” Don pressed the button to allow the sweet melody to melt into the sound room.

The men could hear the melodic piano and a voice that Harry has come to love, even after one blessed encounter.

“You've taken my love, and now desert me.”

Bianca continued to do Freddie Mercury justice as her fingers toyed over the keys, vocalizing the guitar melody as she crescendoed the arrangement before softly vocalizing the final verse. Harry watched as her delicate fingers moved up the keyboard to finish off the song.

“Bellissima, bambina!”

Bianca turned to look at her father, smiling until she saw the three other gentlemen standing beside him. Two of the men continued to eat while one, Harry, was looking right at her, smiling just as big as her father.

“Uh, thanks. I’m done in here, it’s all yours.”

She was quick to stand up and pick up her tattered high-top Chucks, padding out of the room. She was sure to give her dad a kiss and avoided eye contact with everyone else. She made her way to the kitchen to put her shoes on and leave.

When Harry walked out to say hello to her and put his plate in the sink, she was already gone. Harry took the opportunity to look around the kitchen to see that there was a margarita maker. Quick to make his way into the sound room, Harry asked if it was too early for a margarita, to which the room responded with a mixture of ‘no’s’ and ‘never’s’.

More people from Harry’s and Don’s teams began to filter in, enjoying margaritas and partaking in eating some chocolate-covered mushrooms that someone happened to have brought, to help with creativity.

Bianca offered to pick up the catering for the team’s dinner and started to walk the trays into the house. Everyone had been outside, enjoying the last minutes of sun for the day, as well as the joint being passed between bodies. Harry saw her through the window, putting a few trays on the counter.

Harry decided to make his way into the kitchen, though decided to take the unorthodox route of using the window, tripping over the lip of the windowsill, landing face-first onto the kitchen floor.

“Jesus Christ, Harry! You alright?!”

She was quick to make her way over to him to help him up. He sat on the floor for a second and began to laugh. As he opened his mouth, blood started to drip down his chin.

“Fuck, Harry! You’re bleeding!”

Bianca got up quickly to get a dish towel and wet it while Harry continued to giggle on the floor, reaching his hand for his chin and it quickly filled with red. She knelt between his legs on her knees while holding his chin up so that she could wipe it with the wet towel.

“Do you mind if I look in your mouth?”

“You can do whatever you want with my mouth…”

Both froze and while Harry’s eyes went wide, Bianca raised her brows and snorted at his comment.

“Feeling good, I see? I just want to make sure you didn’t knock out any teeth.”

Harry gave a quick nod and allowed her to look into his mouth. She tsked at him as she continued to wipe his mouth.

“You bit your tongue pretty bad. Let me get you some ice.”

She was quick to get a clean towel and fill it with ice, brushing her loose strands of hair out of her face as she kneeled back down in front of him. He continued to sit with his tongue out, making her giggle as she rested the towel on his wound.

She shook her head as he was looking at all of the features on her face, reminding himself how warm her brown eyes are, the soft barely there freckles on the bridge of her nose. The zit that she tried to hide with makeup on her chin, the scar in her right brow that you wouldn’t notice if you weren’t this close. He could see the hole where a piercing used to be on the left side of her lip, how she had just put chapstick on her lips from how slick they looked.

“You okay here while I get the rest of the food from my Jeep?”

Harry slowly nodded while in his trippy daze mixture from the drugs and her beauty, he gently took the towel from her hand and kept it on his wound. She finished bringing in the food as everyone made their way back inside, laughing at Harry’s child-like position on the floor.

Bianca waved and said goodbye to everyone, gave Don a kiss, and checked up on Harry one last time. Harry was quickly hit with inspiration and an itch to start recording.

October 7, 2018

Walking up and down the aisles of the wine and spirits store, Harry was feeling the prickles of anxiety in his chest as he was looking at the selection of red wines. He had felt the restlessness since he had been invited to the home of the D’Angelo’s for a Sunday dinner, even more so after being in the studio. He wanted to make a good impression as he decided to grab the overpriced bottle of Sangiovese.

As he left with the bottle in hand, he had stopped at the flower shop across the street on the way to his car, deciding on a primarily yellow bouquet. The bouquet had called for him as his figures graced the petals. When walking to his car, he looked at the flowers and he couldn’t help but wonder why he had picked this specific bundle.

Showing up at the D’Angelo’s earlier than they had told him to arrive, Harry had made sure to have both the wine and bouquet in hand. He had taken his time to approach the door, more nervous than he has been in a while. He lifted his hand to rap on the door and before his knuckles made contact, the door flew open and Bianca walked right into his chest.

Both let out a noise at the impact but she began to laugh hysterically before profusely apologizing. Her mother was quick on her heels on the way out the door, asking both of the young adults if they were okay.

Harry gave a soft smile, confirming that he was okay before Bianca gave the excuse that she is ‘always in a hurry’. Ellie was quick to grab her daughter’s hand to pull her along with her, pointing in the direction of Don in the living room.

“We’ll be back sweetie, just need to pop by the store to pick up some things for dinner.” Ellie kissed his cheek as she and Bianca walked to the car. Bianca gave a little wave with a beaming smile, apologizing again for her clumsiness.

Don had called out to Harry from the couch as Harry was watching the girls cruise down the driveway. He got himself out of his daze, following the sound of Don’s voice, closing the door behind him. Don stood up from his spot to greet Harry in the entryway, shaking his hand after he moved his host gifts to his left hand and pulled him in for a hug.

Harry presented the flowers and wine to Don who was quick to rain his praises on the “wonderful taste” Harry had. After putting the flowers in a vase in the center of the family dining table and popping the wine into the wine chiller in the kitchen, Don guided the young man into the living room where a family movie had been paused on the screen.

“I always wait until I'm home alone to watch this video; I get emotional and the famiglia gets embarrassed.” Don gave a deep chuckle as he pressed play.

It was well edited with music playing over montages of a young couple’s romance, time at the beach, ever-growing love. Moments of pregnant Ellie and children slowly made appearances as the video continued. There were scenes of conversations in Italian that Harry could understand just slightly, causing him to laugh at Ellie's awful accent that Don made fun of as he rubbed her swollen belly while talking about, “la nostra piccola bambina”.

It transitioned from a couple’s home videos to a compilation of moments with the whole D’Angelo family. It comprised scenes of family vacations and Sunday dinners, moments where the young D'Angelo's speaking Italian, better than their mother. There were cutaways of all of the children playing and running around, laughing. Harry couldn’t help but smile seeing scenes of Justin on Don’s lap, sitting behind a drum set, Michael helping Ellie make pasta with flour all over his hands and cheeks.

Then he saw a very young Bianca standing in the living room with an ankle-length Little Mermaid nightgown, swaying back and forth while watching Grease play on the screen of the television. Don couldn’t help but beam at his little girl singing Hopelessly Devoted along with Olivia Newton-John, flawlessly at the age of four.

“My bambina, always the singer. Was singing before she could babble.”

Harry’s smile grew as well, especially when the little girl on the screen with mussy hair in her face stopped her swaying when the song ended and turned to give a shy smile to the camera her father was holding.

More scenes of the younger D’Angelo’s showing their musical talents; recitals, musicals, and plays. Harry could see that Bianca was quite the actress, even when she was playing the lead as a zookeeper for the Kindergarten production on animals.

Another moment where it was strictly Bianca had started, her walking out onto a stage towards a piano dressed in a sparkly red semi-formal dress, sitting behind the keys of the piano, and kicking off her ballet flats. The loud chords of It’s All Coming Back to Me were played expertly by a Bianca that could not have been more than sixteen. Her beautiful voice rang out as she emotionally sang out the lyrics.

The door had opened when a giggly Bianca and Ellie carried multiple bags. Bianca was quick to stop in her tracks when she saw the video on the television.

“Dad! Turn that off! Harry doesn’t need to see that, for fucks sakes!”

Don laughed out and leaned closer to Harry, “Told you they are embarrassed.” Don quickly turned off the video before both he and Harry stood up to help the girls with the bags of groceries. Ellie had pointed out the flowers in the center of the table, thanking Harry and kissing his cheek.

Bianca was pulling out ingredients from the reusable bag in front of her, separating by recipe. Harry was helping with a bag next to her, holding up each item for Bianca to guide him where they were to be set.

“Have you ever made homemade pasta, sweetie?” Ellie was popping an olive in her mouth as she was setting up some snacks on the table for people as they arrived, looking to Harry for a response.

“Uh, no, I haven’t. I would love to learn though.”

“Bianca is a great teacher! She can show you how to make linguini for a veggie dish we are making for you.”

Bianca was giving her mother a blunted look as she pulled the ingredients for the spinach and sun-dried tomato linguini towards her. She smiled at Harry before she took all of her rings off, indicating Harry followed suit.

She washed her hands and left the water on for Harry, grabbing the flour and eggs to place on the island. She cleaned off the service and grabbed the measuring cups to put two equal piles of flour on the counter.

“This is going to get messy, do you want an apron?”

Harry shook his head as he watched Bianca make a well in the center of her flour. Harry was quick to copy her movements, making a matching well in his flour mound. Bianca handed him four eggs before grabbing her own, cracking an egg, and pouring out the contents with one hand.

“How do you do that? I’d probably get shells everywhere.”

She had giggled, “Lots of practice, but I can show you.” She took an egg in her hand to show the motions. “First you crack it like you normally would, maybe a little harder to make sure the crack is deep. Then, stick your thumb in between the shells, using your nail. Your pointer and your middle finger will pull the top open with the help of your thumb, while your ring and pinky will pull with the help of your palm and then woop, out pops the egg.”

Harry followed the instructions, though a little slower and gentle as to not squeeze the shell too tight. Bianca moved closer to make sure Harry had a clean egg and sure enough, the perfect, shell-free egg fell next to the one he had cracked previously.

“There you go, a quick learner.” She looked up at him smiling before moving back to her station, finishing her cracking, and started to fork the eggs in the flour. Harry mimicked her motions until he saw her start moving flour into the center with her fingers. He watched as her hands became covered in flour, kneading the now developed dough.

Bianca talked Harry through the process as she continued to knead her dough. Harry continued his motions as she washed her hands to wrap the dough in plastic wrap to let it rest. She also wrapped Harry’s as he washed his hands. Don pulled down the pasta roller for them to use when the time was ready, kissing the top of Bianca’s head before grabbing a bottle of wine for the four of them to enjoy and turning on some music.

Come and Get Your Love by Redbone began to play through the house as Don popped open the bottle Harry had gifted and Ellie started dancing around the table as she set it for ten.

Everyone was quick to start singing the lyrics to the upbeat, feel-good song. Don grabbed Bianca to twirl her into a fit of giggles as she worked at the stove on sauces. Harry moved to Ellie to help her set the table and she bumped her hip to his while continuing her swaying.

The door had opened with Dean and Michael walking in, quickly transitioning to dancing into the kitchen. Dean had another bottle of wine in one hand and a paper bag in the other, pulling out the freshly baked bread as he kissed Bianca’s cheek.

Michael was quick to move to his mother, kissing her cheek, and wrapping his arms around her, as he embraced her while simultaneously dancing and singing. Ellie beamed as she held her son’s cheeks, “Come and get your love!”

Both made their way around the room, hugging and kissing everyone, Harry included. Dean went around and topped off everyone’s wine glass as he poured himself and Michael each a glass as well.

Christine and Justin walked in, followed by their sons, Dylan and Matthew, who ran right to their aunt. Bianca hugged and kissed them, helping them get their stools to be her sous chefs.

Harry went with the flow of the family, helping where he was needed and was fully immersed in the D’Angelo Sunday Dinner tradition. He felt truly welcomed by the family, able to be himself fully.

The Shoop Shoop Song began to play and Bianca let out an audible gasp, quick to join Cher in singing the song. Ellie made her way to her daughter, singing and dancing, both with massive smiles. Harry continued to sip his wine while watching the two women lose themselves to the song.

“She loves Cher. Probably her favorite artist.” Michael stood next to Harry while munching on bruschetta, dusting off his hands before grabbing his wine glass.

“Cher is great.” Harry also grabbed an appetizer, popping it in his mouth.

“Jack is great too. Bianca, I mean.”

Harry smiled, “She told me of the nickname, clever.”

Michael smiled as Justin had joined them, “She is also bambina, or bumblebee if you ask Michael.” Justin joined in on the snacking while Michael nudged Justin’s shoulder.

“Bumblebee?”

“Michael couldn’t say bambina when he was little, thinking it was Bianca’s name, so he always called her bumblebee.”

Harry looked back to the girls, Christine having joined in, now dancing to Marvin Gaye, focusing on Bianca, thinking that bumblebee is a very fitting nickname for the girl.

Everyone had finished their part of the dinner, making many pasta dishes, multiple portions of meat and enough vegetable-focused dishes to make any vegetarian happy.

“Bianca wanted to make sure you had lots of options, sweetie. Don had said that you're vegetarian.”

Harry nodded, taking a bite of one of the many delicious dishes in front of him. “I am, and thank you so much. Most people aren’t as accommodating.”

“Of course, you’re a guest.” Bianca smiled across the table, taking a sip of her limoncello over ice.

“You’re part of the family, Harry.” Don had said as he lifted his wine glass, the rest of the D’Angelo family raising their glasses and voicing their agreement.

October 26, 2018

“Dad! Stop moving! I’m going to mess up!”

Ellie had been giggling from the bathroom as she was pinning her wig on. She looked to her husband, who was sitting at her vanity while their daughter was painting the signature Ziggy Stardust lightning bolt across her father’s freshly shaven face. He had been claiming the brush was tickling him, causing him to squirm and to annoy his bambina.

Bianca let out a frustrated sigh as she swung her extensions behind her shoulders and adjusted the sequined bikini halter before leaning back in with the brush and red paint. After she had finally finished her paint job, she ran a brush through her long, straight hair before adjusting her sequined two-piece Cher costume designed by the one and only Harris Reed.

Don allowed Ellie to help put on his Ziggy Stardust wig after she threw on her leather jacket for her Debbie Harry costume.

The three had left the bedroom to meet Dean in his Purple Rain Prince costume and Michael in his Live Aid Freddie Mercury costume. They met in the kitchen for a cocktail before they made their way to the Casamigos Halloween Party.

The clan had all arrived together, the flashing of cameras began as they exited the car and made their way into the venue. They could hear their names called in every direction, always polite as they smiled and waved to the photographers.

It wasn’t long until all of the attention was off of the D’Angelos and on to who would be the talk of the night with his custom Gucci, Elton John Dodger costume, with large funky glasses and all the glitter in the world.

Bianca accidentally ran into her mother due to the distraction, Ellie quickly looked at what had caught her youngest’s eyes. Ellie began to smile when she saw her daughter in shock and Harry mimicking her expression back. She pulled on her husband's jumpsuit sleeve, showing him the two in awe.

Don’s smile matched his wife’s. “Giovane amore.”

Each person went off to venture around the venue, catching up with old friends and colleagues. Harry once again found Bianca standing at the bar, waiting for a drink. This time, he was the one to start the conversation.

“What will Cher be having tonight?” He leaned on the bar, facing the girl beaming at him as she ‘Cher swung’ her hair over her shoulder.

“Whatever Sir Elton John will be having.” Harry returned the smile and ordered them each a Paloma. They sipped on the tart drinks while catching up, since they haven’t seen each other since Sunday dinner.

“Your costume is phenomenal Harry. You would think you stole it right from Elton himself.”

“Thank you. Gucci always treats me well. Could say the same for your perfect Cher costume. Walked right off the Sonny and Cher Show set.”

“Thank you, but you should thank Harris.”

Harry had checked out the outfit for the hundredth time that night, “Leave it to Harris to do Cher justice. Honestly, though, don’t think anyone could wear that outfit as well as you and Cher herself.”

Harry loved to see the blush that had crept to her cheeks, his vision moving to her lips to watch her smile mold around the rim of the glass to take a drink. He looked back to her eyes as she moved her long hair again.

She cleared her throat, “Are you having fun? Enjoying the party?”

“More fun now that I’m at the bar with you. Tired of getting pulled to take pictures with everyone.”

“Yeah, that must be annoying. Can’t enjoy anything for yourself.”

“I’m enjoying this though.” Again, Harry was proud of her blush. “I would love to take a picture with you though. Would make sense since Elton and Cher are friends and all.” He raised his brows with a shrug of his shoulders.

“You want to take a selfie with me, Harry?”

“It would be my favorite picture of the night.”

“Alright.” She adjusted the high-waisted sequin bell-bottoms as well as the halter before moving her hair so that Harry could comfortably wrap his arm around her waist. She wrapped her arm around his shoulder comfortably, being his height in her heels. Harry pulled out his phone and took a few shots, one including him kissing her cheek.

“I could send these to you, but I don’t have your number.”

Bianca gave a playful scowl but quickly gave him her phone number and received the pictures. She reviewed them, smiling at her phone.

“These are great.”

Harry couldn’t help his grin, though it was interrupted by the call of his name. Harry internally groaned, not wanting to be taken away from Bianca but his mood changed when he saw Ziggy Stardust walk toward him. Harry let out a laugh at the slightly inebriated Don.

“You look great H!”

“So do you, Don.” Harry let Don embrace him before he wrapped himself around his daughter. He began to slur in Italian, so it was hard for Harry to eves-drop. Harry knew he was talking about him when he heard his name and both were smiling in his direction.

“Dad wants to know if you would like to join us for some midnight greasy food.”

Don started mumbling again, though this time, Harry could understand Don’s dire need for a bacon cheeseburger. Harry finished his drink and followed the family to the diner down the street.

All dressed in their rock-star attire, they were the life of the party at the diner. All the staff came out to take a look, even asking to take some pictures. They even took a group picture for the crew to have as a keepsake.

Bianca had noticed how a group of girls in the corner were in fits of giggles and constantly had their phones out. Harry had been facing them as well, keeping his head down and sipping a milkshake to avoid his face from being in the pictures. Michael had been sitting across from her, obnoxiously laughing at Don’s animalistic ingestion of his greasy burger.

Bianca nudged his leg under the table to get his attention, to which he looked up, “What’s up, Jack?”

“Switch seats with Harry.” She nodded her head inconspicuously to the group in the booth, to which Micheal had turned to kiss Dean on the cheek to take a quick look. He was quick to get up and rub Harry’s shoulder to indicate for them to switch.

Once Harry was sat across from Bianca, he fully joined the group in conversation and contentment. He looked at her and she was already looking at him smiling. He mouthed a ‘thank you’ and she nodded in return.

December 18, 2018

After spending the day with his family, helping his mother with the holiday baking, Harry was happy to be in his London abode, able to relax for the night. He changed into his most comfortable sweatpants and most tattered t-shirt and clipped his hair from his face before settling on the couch with a holiday movie playing in the background.

He pulled out his phone to catch up on his emails and social media, seeing his friends and family enjoying holiday festivities. Harry saw that Don had started a live video on Instagram, so he decided to watch what the D’Angelo family were doing for the holidays.

To no surprise, there was music playing in the background while the family was surrounded by food and wine. Don was walking around, loving on each family member and encouraging them to chat to the live stream.

Harry’s heart rate had increased when he heard Don call for ‘bambina’, who appeared to be holding a baby.

“Who do we have here, bambina?”

Bianca was beaming down at the little bundle in her arms who was sound asleep.

“Meet the new D’Angelo; this is Ms. Adeline.”

Michael was sitting next to his sister, looking down lovingly at the tiny girl in her arms.

“And who is Ms. Adeline?”

Michael turned to look at his father who was holding his phone, filming the moment.

“She is Dean’s and my new daughter.”

Harry watched on as the family loved the new member until the video ended. He had decided to check out Don’s Instagram page, seeing pictures and videos of his family and the bands he had worked with while they were in the studio.

He had scrolled back towards the beginning of the year, seeing a still of a video of a young Bianca running in with a guitar the size of her. Harry stayed on the frame and let the video play.

“Daddy! Daddy! Look what Michael taught me!”

She sat on the floor with the guitar covering most of her frame, her head poking out, and her little hands forming around the neck of the instrument. She watched as her fingers formed chords, strumming slowly.

“Moon river, wider than a mile. I’m crossing you in style, someday.”

The video had ended and Harry saw that there was a second video to the post. He slid his finger over to watch an adult Bianca continue to sing Moon River expertly while sitting in a window, similar to Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany’s. She smiled at the camera as the song and video ended.

Harry read the caption to the video.

Happy 25th birthday, bambina. So proud of the woman you’ve become. 💛

Harry unconsciously clicked on her tagged name and went to her Instagram page. He scrolled through seeing selfies, pictures with friends, and even videos of her doing covers of songs.

The most recent video was posted right before the anniversary party. She was sitting at the piano, the angle was a view of her side-profile with a beach behind her through the window. The sun was shining, casting a shadow over her in the black and white video. Bianca was performing a heartbreaking rendition of Silver Springs by Fleetwood Mac, putting all of her emotions into the climax of the song, belting out so that you could hear the echo of her voice throughout the house she was in.

Harry browsed the family and foodie pictures, admiring how effortlessly happy she had appeared the summer of 2018.

Another video had started to play of Dean and Bianca in their loungewear and socks, drunkenly giggled with Bruno Mars playing in the background. They made their way to the middle of the screen and effortlessly danced the dance break of Finesse that was performed at The Grammys that year. He giggled when at the end of the dance, Bianca jumped into Dean’s arms screaming because they had perfected the dance.

Harry continued to peruse her Instagram page. He couldn’t recall how far back he had gone, but he had paused on a picture of Bianca in a mirror selfie with Harris, wearing the sparkly purple shirt Harry wore in Vancouver. He read the caption, “When working with friends, you become a model.”

There were more pictures of Bianca with Harris as well as pictures of her with Lambert on sets of shoots. Pictures of different cities from travel were more frequent. Then, there was a video that Harry had watched more times he could count.

Bianca had been sitting at a studio piano, in a different location than other videos of her performing she had posted more recently. She even appeared a little younger and fresh faced with a natural glow. He could see a few windows in the background open, the sounds of a city as background noise.

“I know this song just came out, but I’m so obsessed that I couldn’t help myself from learning it as fast as I could.”

She began to play Sign of the Times flawlessly, belting out the lyrics and occasionally adding her own flair that Harry couldn’t help but melt at. He knew that he had to have this person in his life the moment her child-like smile shined to the camera.

Harry watched it one last time before he pulled up her contact, the picture of them from Halloween as her contact photo. He pressed the call button and put the phone to his ear.

“Well, hello Harry. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Would you like a permanent job working with me and my team as our creative director?”

There was a pause on the other line and Harry thought that he made a mistake.

“I would love that.”

Here she is! I have to say, working over a year in the plot (that is still changing daily) has made me so damn proud of this fic. I cannot wait to see what everyone has to say and if people love this fic as much as I do.

I have to give the biggest and most loving thank you to @mysweetcreaturestories for working on the plot and inspiring me to write the fic, to @harrysgoldenbum and @for-fucks-sake-h for being the most amazing betas and helping me through out this whole thing, and @nattalina-shop for making the most beautiful header that I could have dreamed of. THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!

Please feel free to drop me an ask, tell me your thoughts, ask me questions, whatever your heart’s desires.

#adore you fic #adore you fic series #prologue #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles series #harry styles fic series #harry styles

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genshin-latte · 3 years

Note

Henlo again! I was wondering if you could write one with Childe and their significant other 👉👈 maybe include an argument or a misunderstanding and a reconcilation 🥺🥺 i'm a bit curious to see him in an angry setting and how it resolves from there 👀 Take care!!! :D

angie fatui man!!

Hello! You didn’t specify the format of your request but it sounds like a scenario rather than headcanons so I’m going to include both just in case. Also just noting I did this bfr we know his full lore I might redo it if it ends up being far off :o

This man;; I feel like he gets really scary when he’s mad. One advice : don’t. Make him angry.

It takes quite a lot to actually get Childe angry. He doesn’t take offense in small matters. Even when he’s offended he’ll brush things off. So when he is angry, you’d know it’s not something to be taken lightly.

You’d be able to tell when he’s upset. He goes very quiet, contrary to his usual cheerful self. You’d be able to feel his anger from a mile away, his eyes grow colder staring daggers at whatever they lay upon.

He goes into thinking mode for some time. He becomes aloof and distant. Give him time, he’ll come back once he cools his head.

Don’t urge him to speak when he’s upset. When he does open his mouth, he becomes sarcastic and snappy. There’s a high possibility that he’ll end up hurting your feelings if he’s really angry.

“Huh” you scoffed “just admit you just want to use me like how you’ve used people for the fatui’s gain.” You didn’t completely mean the words that came out of your mouth. You were just angry, and insecure. He’s always been busy but never this much. He’s been ditching you a lot for his work lately and you were upset. “Why’re you so angry all of the sudden?” He’s taken aback but tries to play off the situation. “Just leave me alone!” Your words crack. The air suddenly turns stone cold. You notice Childe’s slight glare, lips tightly closed. His gloved hands clenched tightly on either side.

He’s angry. You’ve never seen him angry. The atmosphere almost made you shiver. You can hear the slight grit of his teeth as he turned his back, walking away from the scene. Only when he left did you realize the dire mistake you made. You didn’t see him for several days after that. You’ve tried sending him letters but no reply ever came. It was on the 5th day when you finally meet him again, knocking on your door in the middle of the night. “Hey” his voice was weak, tired, a wry smile plastered on his face.

Your first instinct was to pull him into a hug, sighing in relief when you feel his familiar warmth. “I’ve missed you” Hearing your words, he lets out a dry chuckle. He places his hands on your back but not quite returning the embrace. “It’ll be better if we head inside.” He suggested, perhaps wanting to talk about the events several days earlier. You only nodded.

Once you were both seated, you decided to apologize. “I’m sorry I said that.” Your lips trembled as you said the words. “Yeah, listen..” he trailed off “I know you’re upset I haven’t been able to spend time with you. I want to, it’s just the fatui isn’t exactly known for their nice... ways, I can’t exactly ditch them.” He stops, but you sense the slight fear as he says his next line “I don’t want you to have your back targetted.” He sighs. Some of his peers are definitely aware of his relationship with you. A little slip from him and you might end up being on their target list.

“Come here.” He gestured you to scoot closer. You sighed as he lets you lay on his chest, stroking your hair in comfort. “I’m sorry.” His voice subtle but you could tell he was genuine. “Don’t ever leave me hanging like that again.” You whisper, you missed the feeling of his touch. “Sure thing.” He plants a soft kiss on top of your head. He knows this isn’t going to entirely solve his problems. He might as well be working for the fatui his entire life. But rest assured, you’re on the top list of his priorities and he’ll make sure to make that clearer next time.

#genshin impact #genshin headcanons #genshin x reader #childe x reader #genshin childe #tartaglia #Cup of latte

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httpnxtt · 4 years

Text

Wallpaper - Reid x Reader

A/N: Hello Lovelies! I attempted some pure fluff this time to show my love to my bby, @spencer-reid-in-a-pool ! I wanted to shower her with love and this was the only way I could think how, so I hope you enjoy! Shoutout to @imagining-in-the-margins for the adorable prompt! You’re amazing and ily!

Also shout out to my amazing beta buddies, @sunlight-moonrise , @clean-bands-dirty-stories , and @definitelynotkatesblog !

Spencer Reid x Reader

Category: FLUFFY FLUFF

Warnings: None!

Word Count: 4.2k

Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the world of darkness that surrounds our lives, it’s important to find the light in the world. Luckily for me, our paperwork days meant being sat across from my best friend, Spencer Reid. The man whose smile lit the entire room, who could drop everything in an instant for someone he loves; who makes my days brighter at the simplest, “Hi.” The curly-haired genius spends his days surrounded by the worst humans in existence, using his brain to help the world before helping himself. With his IQ of 187, his mind works a million miles a minute, but sometimes he still needs help. That’s where my job comes in.

I joined the BAU a year ago, and was instantly drawn to the resident genius. He was timid when I first met him, as if scared the world would break him with everything it decided to throw at the sweet man. Slowly, I captured the heart of our resident genius, who was now my best friend. Over the course of the years, he became my favorite person. On cases, I would make sure he took time to drink water and rest when possible, bringing him snacks when his brain was wrapped in his geological profile. I made it my mission to teach the genius to love himself as much as he loves others.

Paperwork days were when I really got to see his bright smile and soft laughter. It became a running joke between us. Whenever Spencer would get up to grab us coffee from the kitchen, I would steal his phone to change the wallpaper to something silly. Every time he would check his phone for updates, he would see a new silly picture and grace me with a shining smile and chuckle. Even for these split moments in time, I knew I had distracted him from the morbid things littering our desks. His smile lit up the bullpen, leaving butterflies fluttering around in my stomach, my own smile gracing my lips. He would always shake his head before changing it back, already knowing he would find a new wallpaper later that day. Luckily for me, today was a long, dragging paperday which means I had plenty of time to meet my Spencer-Smile quota for the day.

First thing this morning, I got my hands on his cell. Pre-coffee brain, the only thing I could think of was the most ridiculous picture of our own Derek Morgan. The image was one Penelope graced me with, a photo he attached when shamelessly flirting with her during our downtime. As quickly as I could, I set the lockscreen and gently placed the device back on his desk, almost in the right spot although I’m sure Spencer would notice it had been moved. I sit back in my chair, slowly starting to spin as I see Spencer make his way back to our desks, two mugs in hand as his glasses begin to slide down the bridge of his nose. I shoot up to wrap my hands around the steaming mug, the warmth like a warm hug. I pull the mug up to my face, smelling the delicious scent of coffee created perfectly to my specifications. Sometimes boy genius’ memory has its perks. Settling back at my desk, I sort through the mound of files for the day in anticipation.

Looking up from my own cases, I look across to Spencer who has his face buried in a file, his finger trailing down the pages taking my mind into places it shouldn’t go. After an hour he still hasn’t seen his wallpaper, plastering a frown on my face. I pull out my own device, immediately texting a gif of Stitch saying hi to “Pretty Boy”, hearing his phone ding almost immediately. Looking across to Spencer, he almost spits out his coffee seeing the ever flirtatious Derek Morgan gracing his screen. The reaction sent me into a whirlwind of laughter, my head thrown back, almost cackling at the poor man.

As I calm down, wiping the tears from under my eyes, I see Spencer looking at me with his signature smile, making my heart flutter.

“That was a good one, Y/N. You really got me this time.” He chuckles, looking at this screen again before looking back at me. “Might have been your best one yet,” he says as he works to change it back. The poor technophobe had to learn because of me how to change his wallpaper since he realized I wouldn’t stop anytime soon. He’s still a tad slow but watching him try to work through it makes my heart happy as I return to my own files.

As I try to work through my own files, an IM from the tech queen herself pings my computer.

P.Garcia: “Changed Boy Wonder’s wallpaper again? When are you going to tell him?! Your puppy eyes give you away, darling. You can’t lie to me.”

Y/N: “Darling Penelope, I would never lie to you. Alas, you continue shipping something that will never sail..” I reply to her, hoping she gets the gist.

Although Spencer lives in my thoughts rent free, that’s where he’ll stay. As much as I wanted him in my arms instead, it simply wasn’t going to happen. I close my messages before trying to actually get some work done. I’d rather not stay late yet again due to my tendency to be a bit scatterbrained.

***

Coffee break number two rolls around and I already have the perfect picture planned. Reid scurries into the kitchen desperate for more coffee and I rush to his desk. Pulling out his phone, I send an image to it before saving it. It is one of my all time favorites. A movie night Spencer and I shared. I convinced him to let me pamper him under the reasoning of some well deserved self-care. Surprisingly, the man went along with my antics, although fighting me on this gem. The image is a sneaky one that Reid doesn’t even know exists. During our self-care night, I tried to take pictures of him looking as cute as ever, but he kept blocking me. Luckily, Spencer fell asleep before his mask came off leaving the perfect opportunity to snap the evidence. There is Spencer in all his glory, curled up on my couch in the light blue robe I saved for him that was covered in little clouds, a purple face-mask clinging to his cheeks, trying to avoid his eyebrows.To top it all off, he wore a bright pink headband to push his hair back decorated with bunny ears. The picture shows the soft side of our boy, a side I wished he would show more.

Throwing his phone back on his pile of files, I sit back at my desk, nonchalantly sipping my now cold coffee. Seeing Reid shuffle back to his desk, I wait for him to pick up his phone with my mug resting against my mouth. Spencer readjusts his frames as he settles in his chair, looking me in the eyes before looking at his phone. Instead of his normal chuckle, a pout graces his plush lips. Although his lips are normally a favorite of mine to stare at, the pout twists my gut.

“I thought you didn’t get any pictures of me that night,” he mumbles, giving me puppy eyes that could give mine a run for their money.

Despite my pride in the picture, his tone makes me feel just a little guilty. “I’m sorry, Spence, I thought you were so cute when you were napping. I didn’t want to make you upset.” I pout, the butterflies disintegrating as the moments pass. Rummaging through my drawer, I find my sack of trail mix and toss it to the dark-eyed man. “Here, take my trail mix, I know it’s your favorite,” I offer, a small smile painted on my face. Spencer’s eyes land on me, lips turning up once more into the smile that never fails to take my breath away.

“I appreciate it, but I can’t take it. I know it’s basically the only thing you eat on your lunch break.” His call out causes heat to rise into my face.

I stay insistent though. “I want you to have it. I don’t like making you sad.” I shoot back, giving him my infamous puppy eyes. Even Aaron Hotchner falls for them, there is no way the doctor could resist.

“Okay,” he starts, automatically having me rush across to his desk to give him the snack. “On one condition,” He finishes, making my face fall once more. Spencer never lets people just give him a present, he always does more for others. “Since you’re giving me your snack, you come with me to get a proper lunch since you need food and I could use the hour away from these files.” He smiles at me, already munching on the trail mix so I have no choice but to agree.

“Deal. BUT, I want pancakes if we’re going,” I reason with him, plopping back in my chair.

“IHOP it is.” He chuckles, the sound resonating in my brain as we both hurry through our respective files.

***

At coffee break number three, Reid stands from his desk, scrunching his nose to fix his glasses as he reaches across to snatch my mug from my desk. Hiding my face in the file until he walks away, I turn to see him shaking his head, knowing I’m about to change his wallpaper yet again.

Once I see him turn the corner, I stretch over to grab his phone he conveniently left square in the middle of his desk, giving the man yet another excuse to talk to her. Flipping through the camera roll, I hear a chuckle from the desk a few feet away. Looking over, I find the one and only, Derek Morgan shaking his head at me.

“What’s so funny, Thunder? Sad the attention isn’t on you anymore?” I tease him while trying to find the perfect picture.

“I just find the pining that goes on between two supposedly brilliant people entertaining.” He chuckles as my jaw drops, turning to him. “Come on, Princess. You don’t think we don’t all know you and Pretty Boy fancy each other, do you? It’s obvious to everyone except the boy himself.”

I shake my head. “He’d never see me that way, Morgan. This is just for shits and giggles.” I breathe out, settling on an image of our feet in front of the TV screen, mismatched socks adorning our feet while “Beauty and the Beast” plays in the background. He sports a neon pink sock along with a navy blue sock covered in planets, while my feet claimed one sock covered in different moon phases, the other covered in little alien creatures. Placing his phone on his desk, I settle back at my own, shooting Morgan a closing, “You’re just seeing things, Morgan.” before burying myself back in the file at hand.

Moments later, my mug is sat directly in front of me before Reid sits at his own desk. Automatically picking up his phone to check, my tummy flutters at the smile he releases while staring at the screen for a moment before looking at me. Making eye contact, I notice a slight pink tint to his cheeks, before he looks back at the image.

“This might be my favorite one yet,” he murmurs, adjusting his glasses without looking away from the screen. I feel my cheeks heat up, getting warmer by the second, but I cannot tear my eyes from the man who holds my heart without even knowing it.

***

“Hey Y/N. Ready for lunch?” Spencer asks, tearing my eyes from the IMs Garcia floods me with daily.

“Ready when you are!” I reply, jumping at the opportunity to get away from the files scattered on my desk. You’d think serial killers would take a day off sometimes. Shuffling to my feet, I grab my keys from my desk and grab Spencer’s hand, dragging him to the elevator with me.

“Seems like it’s more ready when Y/N is.” He chuckles, straightening his glasses once he comes to a stop in front of the silver doors. As we step in, Garcia frantically waves at us, before sprinting into the bullpen as the doors close.

“Well, you’re in luck, Pretty Boy. You get me as your personal chauffeur to lunch.” I beam at him as he goes bug-eyed.

“Lucky? In your death trap, Y/N?” He chuckles, putting a flabbergasted look on my face.

“Hey!” I yell at him, playfully elbowing him in the ribs. “My car has lasted 15 long years I’ll have you know, and she runs as smooth as ever,” I shoot back, immediately leaving him behind when the doors open. “Maybe I’ll just go get pancakes without you then.” It’s playful when I lock all the car doors except for mine, and he knows it.

That doesn’t stop him from playing along. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry Y/N! Will you ever forgive my poor soul?” he jokes, holding both his hands over his heart as he begs for forgiveness. Unlocking the doors, I giggle at his antics before heading to the restaurant.

***

“Y’all ready to order, or do you need a few more minutes?” The server returns to the table with our coffees, along with an apple juice for my inner child.

“Yes ma’am. Can I get the plain pancakes with eggs, as well as a side of bacon and sausage?” Spencer asks while gathering both our menus for her. “Of course, sugar. What about you darlin’?” she turns to me as Spencer dumps almost the entire sugar container into his mug.

“I’ll just have the chocolate chip pancake, please!” I smile at her as I steal what’s left of the sugar from the man across from me.

“No problem, that’ll be right out for y’all.” She smiles at us before heading off to the kitchen.

“Did you know chocolate chips were invented by Ruth Wakefield because she decided to chop up a chocolate bar and add it to her cookie batter?” Spencer looks to me as he starts with factoids. “And white chocolate isn’t even truly chocolate! White chocolate is made with a blend of sugar, cocoa butter, milk products, vanilla, and a fatty substance called lecithin. Not that it’s a surprise, considering it doesn’t even taste like chocolate. Probably because it doesn't contain chocolate solids.” he rambles as I stare at him with stars in my eyes. “However, dark chocolate is loaded with organic compounds that are biologically active and function as antioxidants. These include polyphenols, flavanols and catechins, among others. Dark chocolate also has a list of different benefits proven from consumption.” He finishes, taking a sip of his coffee as I continue staring at the man.

“What ever would I do without you, Boy Wonder?” I say, seeing Spencer’s face heat up at my remark as he hides behind his mug.

“M-me?” He asks, as if he couldn’t believe it. He shakes his head in disbelief before I could respond, showering me with many more factoids while waiting for our food rather than accept my compliment.

“Alright, here’s your food darlin’. Let me know if there’s anything else I could do for y’all.” The server tells us, shooting us a smile before moving onto another table. Spencer takes his time cutting up his food, dousing his plate in more syrup than pancake. Meanwhile, I dig into my pancakes as if it’s the last thing I will ever eat.

Halfway through my own pancakes, I look up to see Spencer looking directly at me with a look I couldn’t quite distinguish.

“Why are you staring at me?” I ask him, almost seeming to pull him from a trance before responding.

“Oh. Uh, you have chocolate on your face.” He tells me, seeing my face flush at the information. I grab my napkin and quickly wipe my lips making sure not to miss a spot. Little did I know, there wasn’t a single speck on my face.

“Is it gone?” I ask him, hoping not to embarrass myself further.

“Oh, yeah it’s gone.” he smiles, returning his focus onto his own plate.

Going back to eating, I keep sneaking pieces of the bacon off Spencer’s plate, causing him to smile each time.

“Hey Spence. I have a question for you.” I tell him, shoving a piece of bacon in my mouth.

“And what would that be, Y/N?” He asks me, sipping his coffee.

“Why is it every time we come here you order sausage and bacon, if you never touch the bacon?” I ask him, looking at him with a puzzled expression.

“Would you like my honest answer?” He pushes back, as if I would want anything else from him. I nod with a mouth full of pancakes, earning a smile while he responds. “Because I know you’ll always steal the bacon from my plate but will never actually order it yourself.” He smiles at me, returning to his own food leaving me speechless and even more red.

Finishing up our plates, Spencer takes initiative to organize all of the empty dishes so our server has less work. Giggling at his antics, I pull out my phone to check the time, seeing we still have plenty of time before our break is over.

“Are we getting milkshakes?” he asks me, sipping the last of his coffee before adding the mug to his carefully organized dish-pile.

“Of course we’re getting milkshakes, what kind of question is that, Spencer?” I look at him, almost appalled he would assume we weren’t. “We each have a sweet tooth I’ve ever seen matched by anyone else, why would you ever assume I would say no to a milkshake?”

“I wasn’t sure if we had the time, I didn’t want to make us late.” He explains, shaking his head yet again at my child-like antics.

When the server returns, we both order the largest mint-chip shakes they had before returning to our usual banter in waiting. Not long after, the server returned with a single shake.

“I’m so sorry sugar, apparently we only had enough ingredients for one mint-chip. Can I get y’all something else?” The server asks us, feeling bad she couldn’t fulfill our order.

“You take the mint-chip, Spence. I’ll order something else.” I push the shake toward him as he blocks it from getting to him.

“It’s okay, Y/N. I’m not worried about it.” He replies, fighting me over a milkshake.

“Spence-” I begin to argue before he abruptly cuts me off.

“Would you like to share the shake with me, Y/N?” he asks me, looking me directly in the eye. I froze for a moment, taken aback at the offer from the germaphobe in front of me.

“If that’s okay with you, Spence. Then, sure!” I respond, checking if it was okay with him.

“I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t okay, Y/N.” He shoots back, chuckling at me before asking the server for two straws. The man in front of me steals more and more of my heart with every passing moment.

***

Going up the elevator to the BAU was a constant battle between us. Spencer secretly gave the server his card so I wouldn’t even have a chance to fight him on paying.

“You gave me your trail mix, Y/N! That’s the whole reason I asked you to get lunch in the first place! Why would I let you pay when I extended the invitation?” He shoots at me as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Shooting him a look of discontent, we both sit back at our desks, feeling 2 pairs of eyes staring at us from a few desks over.

“Don’t look now, but I think Tweedledee and Tweedledum are staring at us.” I lean over to whisper. Reid tries his best to look up at them, nonchalant as possible. Despite the boy being a genius, he is anything but sly, looking just in time to see Derek and Penelope snap their heads to whatever was on his desk. Giving them a smile, Reid picks up his own file to return to his own tasks for the day. However, the task only lasted so long before the genius needed yet another cup of coffee for the day. Heading off to the kitchen, I quickly grab the phone he left on his desk on his break, trying to plan the perfect image.

Before I could get far, I was abruptly stopped in my tracks. Staring at the homescreen on his phone, I couldn’t understand how I hadn’t noticed this before. Had this been in front of my face the entire time? Staring at the screen, I see myself and Spencer from our weekly movie nights. I had all of our silly photos, yet I had never seen this one. I see myself, puffed out cheeks with my eyes crossed, pulling at my ears to make myself look like a monkey, but my eyes can only look at Spencer. He hadn’t made his silly face. Instead, the man before me is staring directly at me, the sweetest smile across his lips. His little nose scrunch in full effect, his beautiful hazel eyes creased in the corner from his smile. That smile that could melt my heart in two seconds flat. Staring at the screen for what felt like centuries, I refocus on my surroundings when I hear his soft voice behind me.

“Wow, Y/N. Getting a little slow with the changes now, are we?” He laughs, before noticing the look on my face. Stopping dead in his tracks, he looks at me confused more than ever. Not being able to form words, I raise my hand to show him the wallpaper, the perfect image of us. His eyes go wide, his mug almost slipping through his fingers.

“Y/N, I-” He starts.

“Spence… Where did this picture come from?” I ask him, looking back at the screen before me. “I’ve never seen this one before,” I whisper, before Spencer puts his hands over mine, the mug now living on his desk.

“I, uh. I took this one before making a face, I just couldn’t resist.” He whispers, pulling my chin up gently between his two fingers, looking me dead in the eye. “Y/N…” He starts, glancing down before gazing back at me with the same look I saw at the restaurant. “I couldn’t resist because I wanted to keep a physical copy of one of the happiest moments of my life. And I care about you... More than care about you! You make my days so much brighter when you’re around. You’re the only person to ever know me, the real me. And I..” he trails off, working his confidence up to finish his thought. “I love you, Y/N. And that picture was saved, locked away on my phone so I could be reminded how much you mean to me, and how much you care on some of my darkest days. I love you, Y/N. It’s the only thing I have locked away because it’s the moment I knew I was in love with you.” He finishes, breathing out as he waits for me to react. Stunned into silence, I stand there looking at the man, seeing his face turn to panic. “It’s okay if you do-” He starts, stunned when he is cut off by his plush lips being covered by my own. He slides his hand onto my cheek, holding my face as he returns the affection.

Pulling away, I look him dead in the eye, I pull out of his embrace to my own desk, grabbing my phone. Returning to his side, I unlock my phone to show him my own hidden homescreen, a grin spreading on my cheeks from the flood of emotion. From our self-care night, it is quite possibly my favorite image of the man. He was in his robe, bunny headband and mask, but he was trying to block the images from being taken. His hand was raised in an attempt, but I could hear the laughter radiate from the image, the smile making my heart swoon at every glance. Looking between me and the image, Spencer’s jaw drops at my own revelation, before pulling me into a bone-crushing hug. Burying my face in his neck, I murmur my own “I love you.” Before a whistle from the peanut gallery beside us breaks it up.

Shooting a look to Penelope, I see she has the biggest smile plastered on her own face, her rosy cheeks probably stinging from the sheer joy painted on. Morgan sitting beside her lounges back in his own chair, shooting a wink our way.

Returning to our respective seats, I can’t help but steal glances at the man beside me. When he catches me, I can’t help but giggle.

“Hey Spence. How long was I oblivious to your homescreen?” I ask him, curious as to how much of a dumbass I truly was. Seeing his cheeks flush pink, he turns to me with guilt in his eyes,

“Y/N.. as much as I would love to take the credit, I don’t know where the wallpaper came from. I can barely change it back after you mess with it.” He confesses, a shy smile on his face. Laughing at his technophobe ways, it finally registers that he didn’t actually set the wallpaper.

“Wait, then who changed it?” I ask him, before hearing stilettos and boots scurrying down the hall, laughter trailing behind them. Looking back at my boy, those eyes stole all my words away, and that smile… the smile I had seen so many times before but never knew the intention, the smile I fell in love with, I knew he would forever be my always.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @spencer-reid-in-a-pool @redbullchick @samanddeanstolethetardis221b @reidetic @gretaamyk @sunlight-moonrise @prettyricky187 @rileysann @itslatinamagia @timey-wimey-lovi @pinkdiamond1016

#httpnxtt #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid self insert #criminal minds self insert #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fluff #fluff

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naralanis · 3 years

Text

little bumps in the road (pt. 12)

Part 12. PART TWELVE?!?! WHAT

Previously on LBitR

Alex stays with them for quite some time that night, working out the logistics for the next step of their newly-formed game plan. Lena goes over the reading of Kara’s blood she obtained at LuthorCorp a few times, and the two of them discuss different strategies to clean Kara’s bloodstream of any lingering Kryptonite into the wee hours of the morning.

It’s refreshing, in a small but not altogether insignificant way, to discuss science with Alex. It’s good to talk shop, as it were, with someone who knows their stuff, and Alex undoubtedly knows her stuff--her expertise in xenobiology provides truly valuable insight.

The problem, however, is that whenever Lena says anything, Alex‘s eyes turn immediately to suspicion. It’s not outward hostility, which is certainly an improvement upon their encounter at LuthorCorp, but still, it’s uncomfortable. Not that Lena doesn’t deserve it, but still. Uncomfortable.

It doesn’t help that a staggering amount of what Lena knows about Kryptonian biology comes from Lex’s journals. When that little tidbit of information comes to light, Kara goes completely silent, and Alex, crossing her arms over her chest, purses her lips into a line so thin they almost disappear entirely.

Lena can only look down and tug at her fingers as she wilts with shame.

In they end, after much discussion, Alex asks for a detailed list of equipment Lena might need, and Lena silently writes it out on the cheap little motel-provided notepad. Alex takes one look at it, and sighs.

It would be such a simple thing to do if they could just go to the DEO. But they’re not about to risk it--this little Metropolis detour was already much more dangerous than any of them are willing to admit.

Before she leaves, Alex begrudgingly takes Lena aside and hands her a little rolled-up piece of paper--Lena almost thinks it’s a cigarette at first. She takes it with a questioning look, unrolling to see ten digits of a phone number.

“Pay-phones only,” Alex says gruffly, putting on her motorcycle jacket. “Two rings, then ‘hello, yes’ means talk, ‘yes, hello,’ means it’s a no-go. Anything else, it’s not me on the phone. Memorize that, then throw it away.”

Lena nods, and mouths a silent thank-you. The number is memorized within seconds.

By the time Kara and Alex say their goodbyes--Lena stands awkwardly to the side, feeling like an intruder--the sun is only a few hours away from rising, but Kara insists they try to get some sleep anyway. Lena tosses and turns for the scant hours they have, seeing flashes of green every time she shuts her eyes.

They depart early, bleary-eyed, and groggy, crawl into the Jeep and get ready to travel south. It’s the tail-end of summer, and the air is still muggy and warm, and the Jeep roars down little unnamed roads. The new plan is the old plan--drive with no distinguishable route; except now they do have a route--one that Lena assumes Alex fabricated by throwing darts at a map.

The days bleed into one another until Lena begins to lose track of time altogether. No matter where they go, they never stay more than a night; they call Alex on pay-phones at select checkpoints and receiving their next point in the route, and Lena crosses them out on the map as they go. Kara does most of the driving, while Lena sketches out diagrams and writes down formulas on loose paper until she gets too car-sick to continue.

It feels like another two weeks in, when they finally hear from Alex again--Lena is the one calling this time, while Kara gasses up the car. They’re somewhere in Louisiana and the heat inside the phone-booth is absolutely stifling, but Lena doesn’t dare leave the door open. A quarter clinks, and she dials the number Alex gave her in Metropolis by rote.

“Hello, yes,” Alex mutters on the other end of the line

“We made it,” Lena says. Alex then rattles off a series of numbers-- the coordinates for their next checkpoint--and then promptly hangs up. Lena stares at the numbers for a moment, thinking it strange--it doesn’t seem too far from where they are now.

And it turns out to be not even ten miles away, which immediately makes the hairs at the back of Lena’s neck stand at attention. The place looks to be an abandoned barn in the middle of nowhere--there are no buildings in the vicinity for miles. Lena can tell Kara is also suspicious; the car rolls to a stop a few yards away, and her brows crinkle in confusion.

“Are you sure this is the right place?”

Lena nods, almost wishing she wasn’t. She almost suggests they turn back, but then something catches her eye--it looks like a graffiti tag, or something like it, right on the dilapidated door. She squints, trying to make out its shape, a five-sized diamond with... could it be?

“Lena?” Kara asks again, but Lena is already stepping out, briskly approaching until she can clearly see the Supergirl sigil painted in red on the worn wood. She turns to where Kara is still idling the car and beckons.

“This is it.”

Together, they slide the heavy doors open. Lena expects a lab, or at least some desk space with some equipment, but the sight that greets them once the sunlight illuminates the barn is... unexpected.

It’s an RV. Not overly large--something either of them could easily drive and park without too much trouble, but it has Lena scratching her head. Until they go inside--the keys were taped to the driver’s side window.

It is a lab. A mobile one.

“Wow,” Kara laughs as she takes in the beeping machinery and carefully organized supplies. “This is some Breaking Bad stuff!”

That gets a chuckle out of Lena, but she’s too busy to actually be amused--the RV is absolutely jam-packed with everything she requested and more. There’s even a bed--a cot, really, that comes down from where it hooks onto the wall of the vehicle-- attached to machinery that hopefully, after some tweaking, would be able to separate the traces of Kryptonite from Kara’s blood much in the same way as platelets were collected at a blood drive.

Hopefully.

For the first time in weeks, Lena allows herself to hope--she has direction now, a plan, as short-term as it may be, and her hands are positively itching to get to work. All those mental schematics, those formulas and theories she’s been scribbling until now--she can finally put her brains to good use. She can finally do something.

She almost feels like a kid at a candy store as she goes through everything Alex had managed to acquire for her use; there’s a giddiness that comes from unwrapping a box of brand-new microscope slides, a childish cheerfulness from untangling wires and tubing, and just overall excitement when she turns on the simple spectrometer on a modified counter and hears it whir to life, lights blinking at her almost as happily.

It’s just what she needs to unscramble her mind--to occupy it, fully occupy it with something useful. Lena’s so taken with what she finds, she almost forgets that Kara’s still there, looking at her with inexplicable fondness in her eyes.

“So,” Kara clears her throat, caught staring. “We’re in business, then?”

Lena smiles, and for the first time in forever, it finally feels like she means it.

Parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11

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#nara's word vomit #supergirl #supercorp #lena luthor #kara danvers #LBitR #ficwriting #femslash #honestly not super happy with this one #but had to get it out of the way I think #so we can have more erm #shenanigans #yes let's call them shenanigans #i figured we could have a little bit of happy lena #just a little

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nanamismoonchild · 3 years

Text

deceiving the moon chapter 2 --> ferryman

pairing: god!namjoon x goddess!reader

genre: fluff, angst, smut , greek god based au

warnings: choking, mentions of death, blood mention, hair grabbing, reader gets a lil scary

Summary: You’re a beauty. He is handsome. You’re Life. He is Death. You love him. But does he love you? There’s only one way to found out. And it’s by being the Queen.

prev. / next

It was a lovely day out in the forest by the home you shared with your mother. Warm and the Sun God, Hoseok, drove his chariot proudly across the blue sky. The flowers had been blooming and the tree nymphs were growing strong green leaves. The river bubbled and babbled as you dipped your feet into the coolness.

It had been a long harvest for the people who lived on the Earth and you had promised the children that you would play with them while the parents worked to pick their vegetables and fruits. Your mother, the goddess of the harvest, had been quite generous this year and the harvest was bountiful and would feed many for a long time. It took weeks for the harvest to be picked, stored, and then reseeded again. Needless to say, the children had run you ragged. A dip in the river was what you needed to relax your worn bones.

Slipping off the dress you wore, you slide further into the deep water and lie on your back. The river would take you anywhere it pleased and you would let it. It would be a symbolism of you letting the fatigue wash away.

Close your eyes. The river whispered. Relax.

Smiling, you did as it said, knowing the river wouldn’t cause you harm.

It was night by the time you reopened your eyes. Selene was driving her chariot high in the sky just as her sibling was a few hours ago. You swam over to the bank and lifted yourself out of the water. Water dripped off of your body, but it didn’t bother you. The aches from your played-out bones were lifted. You felt rejuvenated. The wind blew across your body, making you shiver, but drying you off.

You had no idea how far you had drifted with the current; however, the tree nymphs would more than know.

Touching one leaf from a tree, you asked the natives of the forest, “How do I get home?”

Nothing.

“How do I get home?” You asked a little louder.

Still nothing.

“What is wrong? Have I angered you? Is Pan angry?”

Pan was the infamous Jimin, companion of the nymphs and god of the wild. Whenever he was upset, all of the forest beings he tended to become upset as well.

However, they would always talk to you. No matter what.

“Hello?”

The forest stayed quiet-unhelpful in your plight to return home to your mother who would be wondering about your disappearance.

“Please, help me,” a voice called out. It was hoarse and disembodied.

“Who’s there?” “Please, help me,” it called out again.

You stepped around the tree that still gave you no answer, and found a man with a blue aura surrounding him.

Your eyes widen as you realize why the nymphs aren’t speaking.

There was a dead man in their view and it was uncomfortable and a sight that is not normal. He should have gone straight to the Underworld instead of remaining on land.

“Sir, are you lost? Why has Thanatos not come to lead you down?” The man simply gazed at you, his dark eyes seeing right through you almost.

“I have not a clue how to help you. Thanatos is the only one who knows where the Doors to the Underworld are located…” you trailed off, remembering information your mother had told you years before. “Actually, I do know where to take you. Please, follow me. “

You knew you should have just started the trek home. The pity for the lost soul had overwhelmed all of your common senses. The natural leader and innate care that was inside of you wanted to take the man where he would not suffer and turn into a ghoul. A suffering soul wanting nothing more than to be alive.

Also, your mother was the goddess of the cycle of life and death. It would tarnish her reputation if the daughter she bragged about could not uphold her name.

The man had no footsteps, but you could see the blue aura following you as you trekked across the mossy terrain. The directions your mother had given you had been based on the location of your home--the navigation was tricky and the only hope you had were the stars as the nymphs were still silent with the spirit in their presence.

“Always follow Orion,” your mother had told you.

Orion pointed in the direction--north--and you followed not wanting to get more lost than you were. You were still naked with a strange man following you. The thought almost made you pause, but the need to get rid of the poor man and get home to hot tea kept you going on.

Finally, after walking for miles it seemed, you came across the clearing that your mother told you to steer clear of. It was one of the many ways to get into the land of the dead.

She always feared that the man who ruled the dead himself would rise up and kidnap you. What a worrisome woman. No man would dare.

The man behind you stood next to you, awaiting instructions.

“You are to tap the grass three times. Do you have a drachma?”

He shook and lowered his head in what you deemed as shame. Your pity for him grew. He died a poor man or he was robbed and killed for his money. No wonder he had stayed on Earth. He could not pay the fee to Jungkook, the ferryman, to cross the river Styx.

That had always angered you as a child. Why should the dead have to pay to cross the river? It never made sense!

“Fine. I will take you down myself. My earrings are drachmas. One should be enough to pay for you. Let us go. “ You saunter to the middle of the field and tap the ground three times with your foot.The man did the same. After a minute or two nothing happening, you turned towards the man, hands on your hips.

“Well, this is a waste of-eep!”

The ground had opened without warning, dropping the both of you into a tunnel before closing. Had you been wearing any sort of clothing, your butt would have been saved from the pain, but alas, you were not. Your butt throbbed from hitting the cold ground.

Groaning, you picked yourself up and wiped the dust off of you. The man had fallen perfectly onto his feet.

“Say not a word to any of your ghastly friends.”

He nodded, a tiny smile appeared faintly on his face.

Making your way through the tunnel, you find yourself hearing the moans of the others who had faced Death. A woman could be seen with tears in her eyes as she looked forlornly at a couple who hugged each other near her.

“We’re here. Now we just have to find Jungkook and pay him his fee.”

You moved around a few of the dead folk in line and searched the banks of the Styx. There was no boat and no Jungkook in sight either. He must've already taken a load to the other side. There was no telling how long it would take for him to come back.

There really needed to be a change in this realm. Paying to go to the other side? Having to wait hours on end to wait on the ferryman? The ferryman should have something faster and bigger than the boats that humans use. Odysseus’s boat had travelled far and wide, facing great dangers before being ripped apart by Poseidon in a great rage. Why couldn’t the ferryman of the dead have the same or better?

Fuming, you failed to hear the tell-tale ding of the boat that the ferryman rode, signaling his arrival back. The blue man waved an arm in front of you, forcing you out of your annoyance.

“Thank gods we did not have to wait so long. I simply want to get you on that boat and then get back home.”

At that, you grabbed the blue man’s hand and stomped over to the arriving boat. He was to be the first man on the boat if you had your way. The drachma earring was already in his hand after you took it off while waiting for the ferryman.

Jungkook docked the shabby small boat that could only fit possibly 3 people including him. He was a ghastly white and seemed to have the most brittle bones. He moved slowly without care.

“Could you move a little faster? I have to get home.”

Jungkook peered at you through the hood that he wore, his doe eyes being the only innocent feature that the gods had graced him with.

“You are not dead?” “No. I am the daughter of Demeter. You know me as Persephone. I would like for this man to cross. He was wandering around the forest and scaring the tree nymphs.”

The ferryman blinked at you before turning to the blue man, who had been making it a point to look everywhere but at Jungkook.

“Let me see your payment.”

The blue man glanced at you for assurance before presenting the earring drachma. His hands shook a little.

Jungkook paused and scoffed. A sound that you did not want to hear.

“This is not sufficient. This is an earring.”

“Yes, but it is a drachma. I pierced the drachmas and placed them into my ears for emergencies. This is an emergency. They are more than sufficient. Please let him on board. I will only beg this once. He is confused and lost. I want to see him cross into the Underworld.”

Jungkook’s eyes flashed. His doe eyes had narrowed and become menacing.

“They are not sufficient. It is fake. And you are fake as well. Persephone, the daughter of Demeter, would have no business leading the dead into the Underworld. This man will stay on the banks of the Styx and become a wraith since he does not have sufficient payment.”

A demented laugh erupted from you. You try to cover your mouth with your hands, but it was a failed attempt as the crazed giggles came in waves. Thankfully you didn’t snort. How unladylike that would be.

“You are a fool. Talking to me as if I am not higher than you. If I were not humble, I would look down upon you.”

You took the drachma from the blue man’s hands and kicked Jungkook so he would kneel in front of you. Grabbing a tight fistful of his matted wet hair, you yanked his hand up and shoved the damned silver coin into the ferryman’s throat, making sure it cut his gum and bled.

“You should know better than to call me a fake. I have all the business to bring the dead into the Underworld. Let this man on your boat and take me as well. I would like to speak with the god of the Underworld, Namjoon, himself. There needs to be some changes around here. Starting with you.”

You let him go. He sputtered and spit out the blood that had been accumulating in his mouth before rushing to grab his rower and ushering you and the blue man onto his boat.

He dinged his bell and pushed the small boat off of the dock.

He uttered not a word the entire short journey.

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it-was-summer · 3 years

Text

Video Killed the Radio Star- Chapter 8 (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Hello!!! After a very very very long hiatus, school is over and I am ready to write again. I'm sorry for dropping off the face of the earth, but I did indeed get burnt out this semester and I just needed some time to recover. I also got sick with COVID-19, so I'm sorry that chapter 8 took so long to write. As regards to the things in my ask box, I will be answering them as soon as I post this chapter today. I will be working over the Summer, but I promise to write over the Summer. Thank you all for being kind and I hope that this chapter or two nerds being nerds makes up for some of it... a little at least? Also the text will be italicized

Warnings: One? Curse word? Fluff and texting?

Plot: Spencer and you fight against all judgement and ignore the growing feelings the two of you have for each other. Spencer sends you a text.

Word Count: 2.1K

Spencer had come and gone, and now your couch carried the faint smell of peppermint and old books. The moon peered through your living room window as you poured steaming water into a mug, the smell of peppermint making your stomach flip pleasantly. Your mind wandered dangerously, thinking about how sweet Spencer’s laugh sounded when you nitpicked something the Doctor had said.

Thinking about how he stood in front of your bookcase and how bright his smile became seeing The Nightingale and the Rose amongst the masses, his fingers brushing the spine for a second before he let out a soft ‘oh’. You shook your head from side to side gently, trying to shake the recent memories from your brain as you took a short sip of your tea.

You couldn’t help but feel dirty thinking about Spencer. If you were just thinking about him you would’ve felt better, but you weren’t thinking about Spencer necessarily. You were thinking about how soft his hands felt in the split second the two of you reached for the remote. You were thinking about how he used that same hand to push back his hair from his eyes, how the dying sunlight outside reached his eyes, and how he looked when he lingered for a second too long at the door.

That wasn’t right. You weren’t supposed to think about him like that, you didn’t want to. Every lingering thought was shoved into the back of your mind in a forceful act of rebellion. You needed to remain grounded, you couldn’t let yourself get carried away. He was your friend and he was going to remain your friend, just a friend.

The peppermint tea felt thick as it went down your throat, a soft chime bringing you back to reality. Your hand shot over to your phone, feeling desperate for any kind of distraction. Your mother had texted you a simple ‘Hi’ and you felt your shoulders relax instantly. You hit the call button.

___

Spencer stood in the middle of a park, he wasn’t there for a case or to play chess, he was just there-- sitting on a red blanket. His head raised to the sky as a breeze shook through his hair sweetly. He heard a gentle and familiar laugh beside him, his head snapping away from the blue sky to look at you. “What are you laughing at?”

“Nothing,”

Spencer frowned, sitting up on his elbows, eyes locked onto yours, silently interrogating you. You waved him off with a smile, “Fine,” you said, leaning your head into the palm of your hand. “I never get to see you like this, so free.”

“I’m always free, thank you very much,” Spencer taunted uncharacteristically as he felt your hand shove into his shoulder with a gentle jab.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” soft wind blew your hair into your face and Spencer could already feel his hand moving to push the hair out of your eyes, “You’re always worrying about work or a case or something else, sometimes it feels like you’re running a thousand miles a minute and I can’t catch up, but sometimes it’s nice to just see you be still for a while.”

Spencer felt pleasant shivers pass through his spine, opening up his mouth to whisper something sweet to say to you, but the words never got the chance to leave his throat as he woke up in his dark bedroom.

His eyelids fluttered gently, begging him to fall back asleep against his will. Spencer forced his eyes open, turning his head to the side to look at the time glowing on the digital clock that sat upon his nightstand. Four in the morning.

Spencer felt his face grow warm as he laid awake in bed, thinking about you. Your laugh, your smile, your eyes, your hands. Spencer didn’t like to touch people, being a slight germaphobe, he tried to avoid touching other people as much as possible. So why was he so comfortable with it in a dream? He didn’t believe that dreams reflected the subconscious, but sometimes he ignored that gnawing feeling inside his brain and believed in dream analysis.

This was one of those times. He knew that if he mentioned anything to Derek, he would make fun of him, and then he would tell Penelope and then everyone would know. So maybe this was something he was going to keep to himself. He wordlessly decided that he wouldn’t tell anyone, it felt wrong to tell anyone. You were hurting. Recovering.

Besides, if he said something-- if he reacted to it, wouldn’t that make this feeling grow? He bit his lip, rolled over on his other side, closed his eyes, and tried to resume the dream he had just woken up from.

A lump filled Spencer’s throat as he stepped through the elevator, coffee’s in hand. He wasn’t the best at lying about things and he worked with profilers. Literal people that could look at him and dissect his brain without him saying a word. Usually, he had the upper hand, usually, he didn’t feel so different. He had no reason to feel so strange, he was just happy, was it so strange that he felt happy? When Prentiss’s eyes fell on him, he decided yes.

The team didn’t always say something when they noticed something was off with Spencer, but most of the time they made a habit to say some teasing remark in passing. Spencer wasn’t sensitive, nor was he immune to throwing out some special one-liners of his own, he was just skittish about receiving them.

“Spencer,” Emily’s voice cut through the room, snapping Spencer’s head up from his coffee. “You seem,” she paused “Weird.”

“Weird? Reid?” Derek chuckled softly, eyes meeting Spencer’s for a quick second.

“Yep, always weird.”

“Yeah, okay, he’s being weird,”

Spencer took a long sip of his coffee, his fingertips gripping the cup a little tighter in a desperate attempt to calm himself down. He had no reason to feel weird, no reason at all. It’s not like his dream was real. It had just been so long since Spencer had liked someone as much as he liked you. That wasn’t the right way to think about it; he simply had a crush on you. That was all it was, a crush.

“I just had a good night,” he muttered nervously into the lid of his cup.

“Yeah, with a cute little miss thing that lives in Richmond.”

“Richmond?” mused Emily with a smile.

Spencer frowned at Derek, “Who even told you that? Was it Penelope, because she told me she wouldn’t tell,”

“When she says that, she means she won’t tell Hotch, but she’ll most likely always tell me.”

Emily waved her hand from side to side, “Wait go back,” she pointed at Spencer “Did you have a date yesterday?”

“No!”

“Yes.”

“No, it wasn’t a date. It was coffee. We drank coffee and talked.” Spencer argued quickly, making him seem guilty in a matter of seconds.

“Can she even do anything with that boot on?” Emily teased, earning a laugh from Derek.

“Come on, Prentiss. Reid only makes moves on girls in the middle of a case, not after.”

“That was once!”

“So you made a move on her then?” Emily implored gently, letting the interrogative teasing be cut short.

“No, we went back to her apartment to watch a show, and then I went home,” Spencer answered, trying to let his nerves settle down, when he said it out loud it sounded like it was nothing. It sounded silly. Derek and Emily shot each other a glance, shared a smile, and then both mouthed a simple ‘okay’, before going their separate ways.

Spencer knew that Emily was probably running over to whisper something to Rossi or J.J and Derek was probably heading over to Penelope to tell her what just happened. He could care less, he needed to work, and they all needed to work judging by the way Hotch walked into his office.

You had woken up near noon to a text that simply read; Hello.(: It was short, sweet, and from Spencer. To be fair, he had mentioned that he wasn’t the best with texting people, so the fact that he sent you a text said something.

You didn’t want to seem too eager as you texted Hey, did you have lunch yet?

You set the phone down, trying to get over the initial feeling of embarrassment that caused your cheeks to flush, remembering in a second that you were a nerd. You couldn’t text people for shit and as you stared at the message you had just sent Spencer it showed.

You sat up, sliding off to the edge of the bed, hand reaching for the phone as another chime made your heart burst. No, I spent lunch on a plane to Georgia.

Georgia?

Chime.

We got another case and the whole team is running on coffee.

Eat something soon.

Chime.

Can’t ignore a demand like that.

Good, don’t.

Chime.

Text me later?

Absolutely (:

You pressed your lips together, fighting back the growing smile on your lips as you left your phone on your bed, today already seemed promising.

Being out yesterday made you realize how much you missed being outside, the only downside was it took forever for you to get anywhere. So, you called your mom out for lunch. You found the slow walking easier to deal with when you were talking to someone else and she was worried about you, so it was a win-win.

The restaurant was crowded, crowded areas usually made you feel nervous like you were being watched. Being watched wasn’t so bad, being kidnapped was worse, and being physically abused was worse than being kidnapped. So you could deal with some crowds.

Certain things kept catching you by surprise, like the way slow-moving cars rolling down the street made you tense up, and the way you clenched your jaw as the waitress’s name tag shined ‘Heather’.

Your mother was kind enough to reach over the table to hold your hand in hers, a smile brightening her eyes effortlessly, “You look lovely today,”

You let out a small sigh and shrugged “I had a good morning,”

“Really?” she repeated, smile growing wider.

“Yeah,” you squeezed her hand gently “I went out for coffee yesterday with Spencer, too.”

“The F.B.I agent, Spencer?” You nodded quickly, hand leaving hers as you looked through the menu. “Was this a date?”

“Mom,” your eyes peered up at her, lips turned down into a gentle frown “I just went through something very traumatic, I don’t think it was a date.”

“What was it then?”

“A friend, being nice to another friend.” You replied quickly, trying to move your focus back onto the menu in your hands. You heard a small sound from your mother that reassembled an ‘okay’ before she went silent, but you could tell she was burning with questions.

You didn’t blame her, you never got out much but when you did, she was the first one to know. You had mentioned over the phone last night that the two of you were friends and he was helping you through so of the tougher things that recovery involved, but she seemed to ignore that then. You had yet to mention the addictive tendencies you were feeling, the yearning for a release, an outlet of some kind. You knew it would break her heart, so you kept quiet.

“I like him,”

“Mom,” you scolded with a smile, setting down the menu. “You met him once.”

“And he made a good impression,”

“You left the room!”

“I can read body language,”

“Okay, mom,” You scoffed as you took a sip of your water.

“All I’m saying is,” she put her hands together “Recovering doesn’t mean you have to ignore every opportunity that comes your way because you don’t think it’s the right time.” She met your eyes and let out a tiny laugh, “I know you and you won’t let anything happen if you feel like it’s not the right time, sometimes it’s not a bad thing to let things happen. Romantic things or otherwise.”

You opened your mouth to say something but instead, you let out a tiny sigh, nodding slowly. She didn’t need to know how miserable the night made you, how suffocating a day alone was for you, so you nodded. After all, maybe she was right, she was your mother.

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