#if none of this makes sense and it all seems so scrambled im sorry | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

haillordvecnaa · 1 year

Text

stupid, stupid love

word count: 1.6k (brevity?? we don’t know her)

warnings: none? this is pure fluff, maybe a little angst if you like close your eyes and spin in a circle

a/n: im realizing im bad at ending fics. idk man brain just go brrrrrr and i keep TYPING. very sorry.

eddie should’ve known this is how things were bound to end up. really, he should’ve seen it coming. instead he chose to ignore all the big, red warning signs, like your stupid soft skin, skin that set his ablaze by a simple brushing of hands. like your stupid smile, a curving of plush lips that eddie would sacrifice his left hand for, just to watch it grace your stupid face. like your even stupider general presence, your simple existence that has weaseled it’s way into the hardest parts of him, the one’s that even he was afraid to look at sometimes. you’ve made a stupid home inside his stupid chest, and it warms him from the inside out, sometimes burning so hot eddie was convinced he’d spontaneously combust.

he was fucked. absolutely, and irrevocably, fucked as he shifts nervously on his stupid bed, watching you from the corner of his eye, sat diagonally opposite him and leaned in to paint swooping lines of black on his fingernails. his room bathed in a soft, warm light from a the evening sun peeking through his blinds, casting a halo of light over your head. you look like a an angel, he thinks to himself, his stupid throat constricting with sense of yearning.

eddie’s convinced he’s surely going to vomit all over his comforter, the smell of nail polish and your stupid perfume filling his senses, bat wings fluttering in his stomach. your hands are so delicate and precise, each stroke of polish perfectly placed and intricate, painting with the expertise of an artist, touch always so gentle and careful with him, only ever for him. he didn't want to interrupt the moment, but his pulse races as he watches your brows furrow with concentration, hands itching to reach up and smooth the creases between them.

a warmth creeps up eddie’s cheeks as you bring his fingers to your lips, red hot scalding from the tops of ears to the tips of his sock clad toes, your eyes finally meeting. an unexpected feeling begins to settle in his chest, and oh god, please god, don’t let him be having a stupid fucking heart attack. his breath stutters, this feeling wrapping around his lungs and heart, squeezing relentlessly. you’re looking at him so softly, like he’s something to be hung up in one of those art museums you talk about so often, it’s almost unbearable.

eddie can’t seem to focus on anything but you, your graceful hands holding his, your soft voice humming along to his metallica record, and the way your warm breath is fanning across his skin, goosebumps rocketing against his already much too hot flesh, and fuckfuckfuck he’s going to pass out. he wanted nothing more than to turn his attention away, and focus on something else, anything else at all, but with every puff of breath from your puckered lips, he’s drawn deeper and deeper into you, your warm aura calling to him.

finally leaning back and looking over his hands, touches of color highlighting his skin, the corners of your lips pull up into a satisfied smile. a smile that seemed to stretch from one end of the room to the other. a pang of disappointment ricocheting through eddie at the sudden loss in proximity, realizing the moment was over and you would be gathering up your things to leave soon. his brain scrambled for a reason for you to stay, just a few moments longer, he didn’t want to have to miss you yet.

standing from his bed and swinging your bag over your shoulder, you squeeze eddie’s shoulder gently, “i’ll call to let you know i made it home, alright eds?” you say sweetly, making your way to his bedroom door

“wait!” eddie called out, his voice coming out a bit louder than he intended, startling you both. his heart was pounding as you turned around, looking at him with a mix of surprise and intrigue in your eyes.   “waiting” you respond, an amused smirk on your face.   eddie swallowed, feeling his face flush even darker than before, surely his skin was melting off like some kind of shitty horror movie. he was desperate for an excuse, to say something that would make you stay, but all the words seem stuck in his throat as his mind goes blank. 

“i, uh, i know you have to go soon, but uh - do you maybe have time for a joint?” eddie’s tongue feels like lead in his mouth, words rushing out and somehow slurring all at once, “i got a new record, too, we could yknow uh.. listen to it together? maybe just sit and talk?” he murmurs, mentally facepalming so hard he could almost physically feel it. sit and talk? SIT AND TALK? he couldn’t even bring himself to calmly ask you to hang out a little bit longer, what in the absolute fuck was he going to have a CONVERSATION about?

“you know i can’t say no to you” you chide playfully, those 8 little words piercing eddie straight through the sternum. he just knew that if he looked down he’d see blood pouring from his chest - a stain spreading from the center of his shirt, absolutely drenched in the ruby red of words unspoken, red of desire, red of craving, of pining, of aching. he wondered if maybe you could see it, too.

sitting thigh to thigh with you on his bed, eddie exhales with a satisfied sigh, the soft spinning of his new record and the mellow smell of weed fuzzing his brain just enough to almost distract him from the way your body heat was seeping into him from hip to calve, singeing his flesh through the thin layer of his jeans. the way you looked so pretty this way, eyes rimmed red and hazy from the effects of the joint, thick smoke dancing across your face in soft swirls, having the audacity to kiss your cheeks the same way eddie longed to do. the way he could wrap his arms you, and fall backwards into his sheets right now, and cradle you close. lull you to sleep with all these sweet nothings trapped behind his teeth - almost.

“eddie?” your soft voice calls, snapping him from his self indulgent thoughts, “hmm?” he rumbles, eyes finding yours quickly.

you pause before continuing, face scrunching up in something that resembles a grimace, and eddie can practically smell the smoke leaking from the cogs in your head. almost instinctively, he’s reaching over, resting soothing hand on your leg. “take your time, sweetheart.” he mutters reassuringly, trying to squash down the bubbling anxiety in his own stomach. eddie knew you two were friends, he would even go as far as to say best friends, but that tiny voice in the back of his mind can’t help but remind him that you are YOU. beautiful, wonderful, kind and caring, friendly with everyone - you. and he is him. freak, outcast, wretched and wrecked, him.

eddie’s throat was closing, maybe you’re realizing you could have a more than him, be more popular without him, avoid scalding gazes and venomous whispers if you got away from him, and you were trying to let him down easy, and oh god is it hot in here? he can’t breathe, he can’t breathe, he can’t-

“i think i’m in love with you.” your voice is almost inaudible, a barely there nervous quiver, and eddie freezes, ripped from his spiraling. his world shakes, rattles and rolls from his grasp. he can feel his eyes widening, can feel his heart skipping over beats, feel his most vital of organs creating a cacophony of wrong signals inside of him - but it’s not HIM, no, he’s observing this moment from across his bedroom, physical form frozen in place.

time passes, or maybe it doesn’t, eddie isn’t positive. your cheeks are flushed, eyes wide and wet - and suddenly you’re looking away from him, “I uh...I uhm,” your lips are trembling, your fists are white knuckling eddie’s sheets, and his brain is screaming at him to do ANYTHING. SAY ANYTHING. because he can hear the lump in your throat as you stare at your feet, “sorry. maybe i should go.“ you’re reaching for your bag, getting ready to stand up, and eddie can feel his chance slipping through his fingers like sand. panic sets deep within his bones, his mind blurs the edges of rationality because YOU are in love with HIM. sweet and kind and gentle and gracious you, in love with rough and tattered and foul mouthed him.

you’re in love with him.

he’s not really sure what happened next, but next thing he knows, his lips are against yours, soft and electric at the same time – like nothing he'd ever experienced. he’s carefully pulling you closer, head swimming, feeling you sigh and gladly complying with the situation at hand.

you taste like contentment, euphoria, bliss. like years of yearning, longing, loving from a distance. late night phone calls, comforting words and inside jokes. rolling paper, honey scented chapstick, and home.

finally parting for air, eddie seemed to come to his senses. you hovered only inches away and grinned at him, all teeth and dreams come true, cheeks flushed red.   “so,” you laughed, “that was definitely worth the wait.”   eddie couldn't help but smile back, heart still thundering in his chest. he could feel his face mirroring your rosy hue, but he didn't mind anymore. you were right, the wait had been more than worth it.

#eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie my love <3 #stranger things #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson x you #eddie x you #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x reader

128 notes · View notes

80pairsofcrocs · 2 years

Text

baby scarab || 58

anon - if you're still taking requests for the Baby Scarab series maybe Bs's hallucinations are getting really bad for whatever reason and try to hide it from the moon boys cause they don't want to worry them but the boys find out and help/comfort bs

~~~

anon - I know it's summer for y/n rn and shes not in school but could you have her get a bad grade back and she's upset about it and the boys comfort her

~~~

A/N : so these requests dont completely match up. its whatever honestly i tried my best with what i had

masterlist - marvel masterlist - series masterlist

A/N : THERE IS NO MORE SCHEDULE, IM SORRY also thank you all sm for the support and requests :)))

please enjoy, and don't be shy if you want to be in the taglist, just ask <3, sorry for the long wait

pairings : steven grant x (platonic)reader, marc spector x (platonic) reader, khonshu x (platonic)reader, jake lockley x (platonic)reader

TW : medicine (pills), spidey stuff, mentions of violence, language, angst, very rushed and hard to read. let me know if i missed anything.

~~~

the time came, and now you found yourself in new york.

close to hell’s kitchen to be exact.

jake was driving you somewhere, and none of them would tell you where.

all you could see from outside the window was a cemetery.

and that’s when the car stopped.

your turned to face jake in shock, wondering what you were doing here.

“if you’d like to leave after we show you something that’s perfectly fine” jake tells you and gets out of the car, leaving you to scramble out to catch up to him.

“wait- but why are we here?” you now walk side by side with him, letting him lead you wherever he wanted.

“we needed to show you something. you helped us, now we get to help you” is all he says before suddenly stepping, making you almost trip to stop as well.

jake had turned his head to the right, staring into one of the fancier looking gravestones, which made you even more confused until you saw the name etched into it.

‘victoria y/l/n’

you froze and your eyes widened, and you took jakes hand in yours out of panic.

“you.. how did you find her..?” you ask in a whisper.

jake takes a deep breath before responding. “matthew” he answers in a single word.

“well thank god for him” you say, letting go of jakes hand to wander closer to the grave.

you reach a hesitant hand out and bend down a bit to touch the top edge of the gravestone as you feel your eyes fill with warm tears.

“is this really her? this- this is really my mother?” you ask, voice cracking at the end of your sentence.

jake nods once and comes up next to you, watching as you knelt down to the stone, staring at the letters carved into it.

he copies you and does so as well, to make sure you had all the comfort you needed.

“i never even met her, i don’t know why i’m so.. sad seeing this” you shake your head, letting a single tear slide down your cheek.

jake clicks his tongue before speaking. “i think that’s why you’re upset” he starts. “she was your mamá, but you never knew her” he says and you look up at him.

“it’s not knowing that saddens you. you were so close yet so far” he finishes, and you can sense that he is speaking from experience.

“i just wish i could’ve at least seen her, like really seen her not from a picture. i- i haven’t even seen a picture, i have no idea what she looks like”

jake simply nods in sympathy. as weird as it sounds, you were like a bright yellow balloon, floating in the bright blue sky but right now he sees a heavily deflated balloon, all void of color.

you were now leant up against the gravestone, staring up at jake while you tried to wipe away oncoming tears as they came down.

“we can leave if you want, you seem really-“

“no, it’s okay. thank you though” you sniff, then wipe at your nose with your sleeve. “for bringing me here” you elaborate.

“but.. i’m confused” you wipe at your eyes, standing back up with jake.

he tilts his head at you. “about what?” he questions.

“i was born in london- i’m sure of it, how else would i get there?” you start. “why would she buried here in new york while i was all the way across the fucking ocean?” you wonder out loud, and jake can’t seem to answer.

“i’ll have to call matt” you say to yourself.

“would you like to be on your own?” jake asks, getting a little back on subject.

you let out a sigh before shivering from a cold gust of wind.

“that’s okay. we have to go, right?” you ask in return and jake nods.

you look back towards the gravestone and run your fingers over the letters gently.

“i love you, mom.. i’m sorry” you speak as if she was right there in front of you.

“you deserved better” you whisper before backing up, and heading back towards the way you came.

jake took one last look at victorias grave before following after you.

you got into the car without another word, and prepared for your journey back home.

~~~

you couldn’t agree on anything. you’ve been in a mood ever since you got back home in london.

you don’t know why, and neither do your fathers, hell, not even khonshu knows.

you didn’t want dinner, you didn’t want any lights on, you really just felt.. sick. and extremely tired.

like any other kid, you really didn’t want to go to school tomorrow.

it was getting miserably cold outside too, so that just fueled it.

and you bet you’re fired from your job since you haven’t shown up since god knows when.

and of course, the fact you haven’t taken your medication in days. maybe even weeks.

you were currently sitting on the couch, staring at yourself through the black of the tv.

steven was getting frustrated and had taken a second in the kitchen and was now coming back to you.

“i will ask you this one last time, and keep in mind you can have literally anything- so what would you like for supper?” he asks you as gentle as he could.

he felt like he was going to lose it when you just wordlessly shrugged again.

“not hungry” you mumble and he takes a deep breath.

you heard either jake or marc whispering something to steven, which made him blink a few times before stepping closer to you.

“when was the last time you had your medicine?” he asks softly and you look up at him with furrowed brows.

“now that i think of it.. i don’t know..” you murmur and steven makes his way back into the kitchen.

he was probably getting you your juice and your medicine you kept forgetting to take.

your theory was proved right when he came back and handed both items to you.

“not to be rude, but you’ve been especially snappy the past week” steven tells you and you raise an eyebrow, swallowing the pills after putting them on your tongue.

“thank you” steven mumbles before sitting next to you.

“i think i’ve been snappy because i almost killed my boyfriend” you say to him and he scoffs.

“we’ve already had this talk. you didn’t do anything wrong” steven tells you sternly and you just look to him.

“right, sorry” you start. “i need to make a call” you nod to yourself, confusing steven.

“to who?” he asks and you shrug.

“matthew” you answer, quoting jake from earlier.

steven just nods and turns away, to give you a sense of privacy.

you pull out your phone and press on the contact, only waiting three rings until it answered.

“hey there, double d, care to share how you knew where my mothers grave was- didn’t tell me- and how she was even in fucking new york?” you ask all at once and you here jake suppressing a laugh.

there was radio silence at first. “which would you like to hear first?” matt answers.

“don’t lawyer me matthew. just answer me” you scoff, leaning your back against steven.

matt sighs before there’s rustling on the other end of the phone. “the reason she’s buried in new york is because she wanted to be. before she passed, it was written that no matter where she died then she’d be buried in her home, which was in new york”

“and to answer your other question, i didn’t tell you because you’d most likely run away from your dads to find her” he answers honestly and you let out a short laugh.

“sorry. i should’ve asked nicer” you apologize and you can sense a smile.

“it’s alright, just don’t ever call me double d again and we’re good”

“deal”

you’re both quiet for a minute. “is that all? foggy and i need to get to working on a case”

“yeah that’s all. thank you”

“anytime, y/n”

you hang up after that and let a deep sigh reverberate through your chest.

steven brings and arm back to wrap around your front, as a sort of awkward hug.

“would you like dinner yet?” he asks and you groan.

“i guess” you whisper in defeat and steven smiles, leaning over to press a kiss to the crown of your head.

“come help me then” he says before taking his arm back and getting up, making you fall onto the couch so that you were laying down on your back.

you groan again. “fine. boomer” you mumble the last part, leaving steven to glare at you from the entrance to the kitchen.

you had macaroni and cheese for dinner.

and then all three of your fathers made you go to bed early.

your first day of senior year was tomorrow. and it was already there days into the school year.

you just hoped it would go well.

~~~

it did not go well.

it did not go well at whatsofuckingever.

you had zero classes with casper, and you already had loads of homework since you missed the first few days.

and then after you got home you lied to your dads about actually having homework so you could take a nap on the couch just to have steven clean out your bag and find it.

which led you to the present, in tears while marc, who was fronting, was in the bathroom where you could hear the sink running.

you wiped your tears as much as you could, but by the time he got out, he already saw it.

“how about we take a break” he starts, coming over and moving the paper in front of you out of your reach.

“you want mom to come over? would that make you feel better?” he asks and you simply nod, letting him wipe your tears with his sleeve.

“i’m sorry you’re so stressed out, if i knew i wouldn’t have made you do any of this today” steven apologizes and you just shake your head.

“it’s not your fault” you reply, giving marc a chance to call layla.

see, now layla always thought she was intruding somehow. even though she is legally your mom now, she feels like she’s replacing victoria.

but in reality, wherever victoria was watching from, she was happy.

happy watching you build a family of your own after being all by yourself for years.

she’s proud of layla, and she can’t wait to see how she grows as a mother.

now, that night you did end up finishing the shit load of work you had, with laylas help.

you kicked your dads out of the kitchen while you did it too, claiming they were a distraction.

you could sense that layla wanted to tell you something too, but she refrained.

you just wondered what exactly it was.

was it good?

was it bad?

i guess you’ll never know.

well, until morning at least.

~~~

A/N : sorry my tumblr glitched and this wasn’t posted, but here it is! the ending makes absolutely no sense and it’s very short but it’s just a filler so there will be longer ones in the future.

i’m planning hanukkah chapters too, along with a thanksgiving and christmas one so that’ll be a while.

i love you all so much, and can’t wait to post the holiday chapters!!!! i’m so excited.

see you next week :)

~~~

taglist ---

@alexloveskili @ihatemyselfmorethanmydepression @thebiggestsimpshrimp @guyinachair27 @astrobuzzsstuff @mooonlight-and-stars @moonlighting87 @mateihavenoidea @inactive-things @alondrashultz @femalemarvelself @queenthorin1 @haileymorelikestupid @jvdethirlwall @justtiredandvibing @winterfrostsarmy @themapoftinyperfectthings @littlebird101 @atzlena @httpslinow @arrowurboat @m-brekker @lifeandbandmembers-blog @adamcarlsenslvr @violet-19999 @seninjakitey @bestgirlpip @panic-in-the-multiverse @in-between-the-cafes @branolagar @bl6o6dy @annoyingmarvelreader @bee-a-cool-kid @buzzitsbeee @wintergirlsoilder2 @crow-carcass @you-bloody-shank @distinguishedmakerpandapatrol @valiantphantomangel @50shadesofcrocs @rayrlupin @kingshitonly @brekkers-desigirl @hutaos-gh0st @kayane28 @nevaeh-jasso @lizlil @scarabgrant @luvxxee @certainchildmentality @yikesitskennawrites @alexisabirdie @zlatolait-writes @thursdaywritings

112 notes · View notes

gureishi · 3 years

Note

dude okay so this is kinda specific and also probably not very original or anything ekdbsisj

but-

how do you think saeyoung would react/feel if (during the apartment days), his MC started crying (or almost) after that one (or maybe two? cant remember, and im only halfway through day 7 on the current playthroygh) time where he just... got really mad n yelled... hhh his expression was scary,,

getting yelled out is already a lil agitating for me... and I know i would be automatically already a lil sensitive cos i would be nervous from the last few days (rsd would nerf me) -- meaning i would be a lil more emotional/easily affected than usual ;;;

on top of that ive never had a guy yell at me djvdjdj so it would be a lil scary, i wont lie.

wanna clarify: the crying wouldn't be on purpose lol, i would definitely try n hide it. easier said then done though... OTL

jsvfsh this is so long n specific n kinda personal to me?? im sure im not alone regarding the general idea though. anyways jdbdjs sorry lolol-

and im jus asking for your thoughts or maybe HCs? whichever you feel works best!

also sorry if we've talked about this before i have a bad memory-

[417]

btw ur amazing love u

Love you too dear Four! And oh boy do I relate to this. I do not handle being yelled at well and would, without a doubt, cry multiple times in this scenario (/ω＼)

Saeyoung reacting to his MC crying in the apartment

He’s never felt like this before. He sort of thought he’d been through it all: wrung every last bit of love and fear and desperation out of himself till there was nothing left but the things that make him useful: his clever hands and his brilliant (weary) mind.

When you speak to him so tenderly—hovering just at the edge of his space, eyes full of something he can’t (won’t) identify—he feels like his heart is too big for his body, and he can’t think straight, or see straight, or make his miserable mind form the words he needs to say to you.

He’s angry because he can’t understand why you’re gazing at him that way, like you’d do anything to ease the pounding in his skull; he’s angry because none of his words are getting through to you, and he doesn’t know how to make you understand that he’s not the person he made you believe he was. And he is angry because he knows, without a doubt, that he’s in far too deep already, and that if anything were to happen to you now, his desperate heart would break for good.

He knows how to lie (it is, in his opinion, the only real skill he has)—so he does. He tells you he wishes you’d leave him alone—tells you to stay away—tells you he feels nothing for you at all. He raises his voice (but oh, as the stinging words tear from his throat his heart wants to crawl out of his skin and throw itself into your arms).

You say nothing. Good, he thinks; and he forces his attention back to his screen (eyes blurry, hands shaking). He hears the sound of your footsteps as you retreat to the farthest corner of the apartment, and something inside him seems to go with you—since the very first time he heard your voice, he thinks, a part of him is always with you. With every day that goes by, that part gets bigger: soon, there will be nothing left of him at all.

With his eyes trained on the screen (and most of his attention on you), he hears the tiny sounds you’re making: shifting, he thinks at first, getting comfortable. Maybe even going to sleep.

But no: you are so quiet only somebody with senses that have been heightened from years of training (years of hiding, and fleeing, and fighting for his life) would hear. But there’s a whimper—a vague, almost indistinct sniffling.

Oh no. Oh god.

Oh god oh god oh god.

Years of agency training have taught him to turn his back on people who are begging, or whining, or crying—but he’s never been any good at it.

And this is you: and his scrambled mind races, his heart drumming so loud against his ribs he is sure you can hear it. He would, he thinks wildly, do absolutely anything in the world to never hear you make such a miserable sound again.

Before he realizes what he’s doing, he stands. The room spins; he’s weak, and hungry, and angry, and scared; his stomach is in knots and the darkened room seems to tilt sideways around him.

You don’t seem to have noticed that he’s moved; you’re hiding your face in your shirt, back turned to him—and you are still (so very still). He doesn’t remember how to breathe.

“Uh...” he says, and the sound echoes horribly in the dull, sparsely furnished room. You say nothing. He clears his throat, takes an unsteady step toward you. He’s not thinking rationally anymore—not thinking about scaring you off, or keeping you safe. All he wants is to see that look in your eyes again: that soft one, the one that makes his hands and feet feel too big and his skin seem to burn and his breath catch in his throat.

“Are, uh...are you okay?” he rasps. You’re still ignoring him, which is a first; your face is turned away, so he goes to your side, kneeling on the floor beside you. You sniffle. He feels like his heart is going to burst.

“Yeah,” you say—and unlike him, you are not such a good liar. Without meaning to, he reaches for you: finds his fingers (of their own accord) doing what they’ve been itching to do since the moment he first laid eyes on you. He touches your hair—brushing it off your face, tucking it behind you ear.

Your eyes, he thinks (fiercely, irrationally): he needs to see your eyes.

“Don’t believe you,” he says. With a sigh of exasperation, you turn to him: oh, and your eyes are blazing, red-rimmed. And he is the one who has done this to you—he is the monster who has made you suffer.

His mind seems to have driven itself into the ground. Suddenly, he can’t remember how to do anything at all.

But his body moves of its own accord, because his heart has always been eons ahead of his (brilliant and foolish) mind.

“Hey,” he finds himself murmuring, brushing your cheek with his rough fingertips (and he knows he shouldn’t, but now that he’s here, he is finding it almost impossible to resist). “I know,” he says, without even quite understanding what he means. “I know.”

You watch him; and there it is again—just for a moment, that softness deep in your eyes that sets him on fire.

“I’m sorry,” he says, the words springing to his lips before his brain can get in his way. “I’m so, so...I didn’t mean to...I never...”

You shake your head, and your hair falls into your eyes again. He brushes it back, finding that there is nothing—nothing—in the world quite as wonderful as the feeling of your warm skin under his fingers.

“I get it,” you tell him. “You don’t need to apologize.”

“I can’t...” He makes himself take a deep breath, and regrets it instantly as his senses are flooded by the warm, enticing scent of you. He feels you all around him now. “I didn’t mean it,” he says quietly. “Please. I can’t stand to see you making that face.”

You force a watery laugh, and the effort you are making for him is almost too much. His mind races. For a moment, he imagines how it would feel to wrap your small body in his arms—to press his lips to your temple and feel your heart beating against his skin.

“How’s this?” you say. You offer him a passable impression of a smile, and he wants to throw himself at your feet.

“Terrible,” he says. You laugh, and it sounds a tiny bit more believable this time. You are looking at him, and there it is again: that softening in your eyes that makes him think (just for a moment) that there could be a happy ending for him after all.

“I...” he starts. What? He can’t tell you how he feels—what he wants—what he is afraid of. Not here. Not now. Not yet. “Please,” he finds himself whispering. “Can you...just give me a little more time?”

You nod, and there is a strength in you that nearly knocks him off his feet.

“Yeah,” you say: and this time you sound like you mean it.

Against his will, he pushes himself up—makes his way back to his miserable little corner of the room. But he pauses—turns—and you are still waiting, still watching him. Of course you are.

“I’m gonna make it right,” he says, not quite meeting your eyes. Never, he thinks: he will never ever make you cry again.

“I believe you,” you say.

It is the first time anyone has ever told him this.

His heart shivers.

“I won’t let you down,” he says—promises. He means it with all his heart.

#mystic messenger #saeyoung choi #707 #headcanons #asks #417 #fwends 🥺#<3 <3 <3

217 notes · View notes

winterscaptain · 3 years

Text

tell.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader

a/n: i cannot tell yall how long i have been working on this one, so i'll save it. thanks to @ssaic-jareau for hanging in there with me as i pulled late nights to make this happen over the weekend!! i love you!! i know it's broad daylight for you while im being irresponsible, but i appreciate it nevertheless. let me know what you think, my lovelies! i cherish your thoughts!

words: 7.4k warnings: language, discussion of sex, canon-typical case events

summary: “we are not people who touch each other carelessly; every point of contact between us feels important, a rush of energy and relief.” veronica roth, allegiant. au!may 2012

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | requests closed!

It’s always tough to spend time away from home when you aren’t on a case, but a conference kept you from your boys the last couple of days, on Strauss’s request. Aaron was none too happy about it, but as the junior-most agent in the unit (even with five years under your belt), the shitty seminars and professional development events fell on your shoulders.

Even though you landed early in the morning, flying coach all the way back from California, there was a whole day with Jack waiting for you and Aaron upon your return. A rare Saturday - no case, no paperwork, just family.

You knock on the door with a knuckle, unable to reach your keys around your bags and breakfast.

Aaron opens the door with a “Hey!” coated in laughter, kissing your cheek. He’s still in his pajamas.

You squint at him. “Am I early?”

He snorts. “Never. We’re running late.” He takes the takeout bags and coffee from your hands. “Thank you for breakfast.”

“Of course. I wanted -”

Jack runs across the apartment and slams into you full force. “You’re home!”

You curl around him, your hands on his head and shoulder as he cuddles into you. “I am! I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.”

His voice is muffled by your shirt and it makes you smile. You glance at Aaron over Jack’s head to find a smile.

“Come look at our fort!” Jack, wearing a blanket cape, takes you by the hand and brings you into the dining room, where the dining room table has been turned into a massive fort fit for a king.

Or, rather, two kings.

“Oh my goodness, Jack. This is incredible, little bug. Your architectural prowess knows no bounds.” You look up at Aaron from your place on the floor. “Where’s your cape?”

His deadpan, as usual, never fails to make you laugh. “Uh, I’m wearing it.”

Jack continues to drag you all the way under the table until you’re laying on your bellies in the little slap-dash shelter.

Aaron flops down on the floor on the other side of Jack. “We slept in here all night.”

“Really? That sounds like so much fun.”

What you mean is, What, with your bad back?

“Mmhmm,” he replies, only to really say -

Yep. I feel like shit.

“Can we sleep in here again tonight, Dad?” Jack asks, turning to Aaron. “All together?”

You exchange a glance with Aaron, who laughs.

So much for grown-up plans...

+++

You’re both scrambling to get ready for the bike ride across the mall and day at the Smithsonian when the phone call comes in.

“Hotchner,” Aaron says, still at the counter, tucking his phone under his chin as he finishes packing the rest of the picnic basket.

He freezes, hastily bagging some carrots and putting them in the basket before holding the phone in his hand and leaning heavily against the counter. “You’re kidding.”

That’s not a good tone.

Jack looks up at you, and you rest your hands on his chest over his shoulders, backing him into you as you watch Aaron with your lip between your teeth.

“Did they raise the terror alert?”

Shit.

“Okay. That’s for the best. Um…” He checks his watch. “I’ll get down there now. Yeah….Do you need the rest -”

With a huff, he meets your eyes and nods.

You let out a sigh and kiss Jack’s head. He knows the drill and runs off for your phone, still charging in the bedroom.

“Understood, ma’am. I’ll be there first. We gotta get Jack squared away but I’ll get going while -” He pauses, probably interrupted by Strauss again. “Thank you...Yes...I’ll be there as soon as I can and the rest of the team will meet at the scene.”

You know that also means you. You also can’t ignore the prick of anxiety that shoots through your belly, knowing he’ll likely be in danger without you for at least a half-hour.

Jack returns with your phone, Jessica already on the line.

+++

Aaron, of course, leaves right away while you wait for Jess.

You sit on the couch with Jack. “I’m so sorry, buddy. We’ll have to do a big day, just the three of us, another time.”

Jack shrugs. “It’s okay. Sometimes you just gotta catch the bad guys.”

The offhand nature of his understanding strikes you as instantly hilarious, and he laughs with you when you double over, wiping tears from your eyes.

“Yeah. Sometimes you just do, kiddo.”

+++

When you finally arrive at the scene, Dave’s already set up hostage negotiation. You cross the street, finding Will and JJ huddled with Emily and Derek.

“You okay?” You ask, placing your hand on Will’s shoulder. He’s not just JJ’s not-husband. He’s your friend, too, all on his own.

“Yeah, jus’ fine.” He shakes his head. “Jus’ a little rattled, is all.”

“Understandable.”

His mouth presses into a thin line as he exhales. “Thanks.” He checks his watch. “Y’all should get on back. I think Strauss just showed up.”

JJ kisses his cheek and trots off to meet the rest of the unit. After another hug for Will, you follow suit.

+++

“The media's calling them the Face Cards. Seven bank robberies in seven months. They've killed one person at each robbery.” Aaron leads the rest of you to the trailer, where the monitors are all set up.

Dave furrows his brow. “M. O.?”

“Single gunshot wound. Each of the victims has bled out.”

That doesn’t make much sense.

You jump in. “Serial killers with a 30-day cooling-off period and we're only just hearing about this now?”

“Well, headquarters has always characterized them robbers first and killers second,” Aaron replies, glancing back at you. You roll your eyes.

Of course they did.

“No one kills seven people without serious psychopathic tendencies,” Spencer notes. He’s more than right, and you thought the same thing - it’s almost like he took the words out of your mouth.

“I disagreed with the original assessment. I was overruled.” Aaron’s bland version of frustration is clear in his tone, but he knows, just as you do, that ship has sailed. All you can do now is handle what’s in front of you.

“So why are we here now?” Dave asks.

“Because crisis negotiation is overseas.”

Aaron starts to walk again as JJ asks after more information. Aaron usually rattles it off pretty quickly, but with the quick start this morning, you know he trusts the rest of you to ask the questions you need. “What more do we know about them?

“They're organized, they're efficient. Each strike lasts about two minutes.”

Derek, walking beside you, finally joins the conversation. “They gotta be scouting the banks in advance. Why haven't we been able to identify them off of surveillance footage?”

“They hack the security feed and turn off the cameras, both during the initial canvass and during the robbery, until the masks come back on, and then we're allowed to watch.” Aaron leads you all into the tactical staging truck, watching the security feeds.

+++

As you continue to watch, the scene becomes clearer, the power dynamics more tangible.

Dave sees it, too. “They're using the hostages as human shields.”

JJ, with Will beside her, studies the footage, watching the Queen run around while the King finds himself preoccupied with the Jack’s wound. “This is the first time they've been interrupted. What went wrong?”

“It's a big bank,” Emily says. “It's possible they weren't about to round everybody up before someone triggered an alarm.”

That’s a fair point, but you ask your question anyway. “Why haven't they cut the feed now that they've been cornered?”

Derek, still beside you, answers. “Letting us see inside gives up a tactical advantage. They gotta know that.”

They don't seem to care,” Aaron says, from your other side.

You’re all silent for another minute, watching to see what happens next. Even though their plans went awry, the team still looks fairly calm and collected, all things considered.

JJ’s frown only deepens. “They're overconfident. Arrogant, even.”

“The face card masks add to their narcissism.” Spencer’s voice comes from the end of the line. “Their personas are the royalty of poker.”

You nod - it’s a great point - while Aaron starts making assignments.

“JJ, Reid, and Prentiss, look at past robberies. That's gonna be our victimology. Pull another analyst if you need to.” He turns to you, then Dave, on his other side. “I want you two to handle negotiations. And, Morgan, strategize tactical options with MPD.”

You shuffle, gathering your radio and earpiece from the charger next to Penelope’s computer.

When the rest of the team leaves, you hang back with Dave, keying into the radio channels and standing by for further instruction - you know there’s more for you in the trailer at the moment.

Further instruction, though, may have to wait. Strauss climbs the steps into the rig and Aaron greets her. “Chief Strauss.”

“The Director ordered me to supervise your operation.”

Of course he did.

“Puts you right in the spotlight,” Dave says, not unkindly. It’s almost fond.

You can’t help but hold back a little bit of a smile. If the situation were reversed and it was Aaron at the helm, you’d be proud of him, too.

“Well, you've got gunmen with hostages in the Capital. The Hill's concerned.”

Aaron nods, gesturing to you and Dave. “We're about to open lines of communication.”

“What about a tactical assault?”

The three of you shake your heads as Aaron responds. “I don't think it's a good idea. There are hostages in front of the doors and windows.”

Erin, finally onboard, turns to Dave. “What's your negotiation strategy?”

“The Jack's bleeding out. They'll ask for medical attention.”

You hum, a little skeptical, and look back at the feed. “The female unsub might have something to say about that. Look at her body language.”

Dave follows your gaze. “She is cold and detached. The King seems genuinely concerned about his partner's welfare. But she couldn't give a damn.”

Your eyebrows raise. “The men probably know each other.”

Aaron, picking up on your train of thought, flags Penelope, “Garcia?”

She turns in her chair, already typing. “Shuffling my techno-fabulous deck of databases, sir.”

And so it begins.

+++

“I’ll do the talking - I’ll need to establish some rapport with them, but I’ll need you keeping the team updated and coordinating any allowances or personnel as things come up, okay?”

You nod, a little smile pulling at the side of your mouth. “You got it.”

Dave claps your shoulder. “You’ll be in this chair one day, so pay attention.”

“Yes, sir.”

He dials in and the phone starts ringing through the speaker. You’ll be able to hear everything.

“Who the hell's this?” You check the monitor. The King picked up the phone.

Obviously, the Jack can’t pick up the phone, stupid, he’s bleeding out!

“My name is David Rossi. I'm with the FBI. To whom am I speaking?”

The King doesn’t address the question, but rather looks back toward his fallen compatriot. “All right, I want a doctor sent in, and then I want out of here.”

Dave checks his watch. “Well, we certainly can discuss that. Let the hostages go and we'll give you all the medical help you need.”

You take a mental note. Your memories from Dave’s lectures at the academy are fuzzy at best, and you haven’t had very much time handling these things in the field. The last time a major hostage crisis was at hand, you were a hostage yourself.

A shot hostage, if the chronic nerve pain in your shoulder is any reminder.

“I can't do that. I need the leverage.”

“How about a sign of good faith? Send out the women and children and I'll see what I can do.”

You watch as the King takes the phone away from his mouth. You can vaguely hear him update the Queen, but she’s not having it. She pulls a child from the lineup and your lower lip disappears between your teeth.

A man, you presume the girl’s father, speaks to the Queen before she shoots him in the abdomen. The King gets back on the line.

“You better send in some more help or more people are gonna die.” He hangs up.

Shit.

+++

“You’re not seriously considering sending an agent in there?” You turn on Hotch and he sighs, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose.

“We don’t have much of a choice. I’m not the authority on-site and with the director pressing Strauss, there’s not much I can do.”

The two of you are alone for the time being, so you’re able to rib him for a second to lighten the tension.

“What’s the point of being unit chief if you can’t lord it over everyone all the time?”

You're rewarded with a shadow of a smile and a snort. “Don’t be ridiculous. I lord it over you plenty.”

“Not enough.” Your tone is childish, the words murmured under your breath.

When he walks away, he taps the side of your ass with the back of his hand. If you weren’t in a professional setting, you could mistake it for a promise.

But, Aaron, that would be unprofessional!

You turn to look at him and just catch his wink as he hops up the steps behind Strauss.

+++

With Garcia’s magic and Aaron’s genius, you figure out that the men are related.

While Rossi hops on the next phone call, you help Derek outfit the medic with a bug and a weapon.

“We're sending in the medic now, Chris. Tell Oliver help is on the way.”

Derek nods at the medic and he hops off, heading into the bank. You jog over to the trailer only to find a humorously horrified look on Strauss’s face.

“Is she…”

You get closer, looking up at the monitor.

“...putting on lipstick?”

You scoff. “She’s vain. Only contributes to a profile of vanity and narcissism. She likes to be seen - this is a game for her.”

You jog back out before Strauss can respond, taking your place between Aaron and Derek.

“Green. You gotta go. Green. Go,” Derek says into his mic.

The agent-turned-medic makes a move and immediately gets a shot between the eyes for his trouble. Your hand files over your mouth and Derek ducks away, taking a second.

Well, that couldn’t have been any worse.

You look at Aaron, still staring at the screen, beside you. He’s thinking the same thing.

+++

Derek walks up to you, kevlar and sunglasses firmly in place. “Tactical's been deployed, snipers are moving into position.”

At your questioning look, Strauss clarifies. “The Director's ordered a full tactical assault.”

The look doesn’t leave your face. “His last orders cost us an agent.”

Radio transmissions fly one ear and out the other, not to mention the flurry of activity around the negotiation tent. Before Strauss can reply, Will’s call shoots past you to Aaron.

“SWAT's getting itchy fingers.”

Aaron turns, covering his comm mic at his chest. “You remind SWAT that bank robberies are federal jurisdiction. No one fires until they're ordered to.”

“Right.”

Will disappears and you suppress a little pleased shudder. Aaron’s very much in control now and it is doing things to your body that are better suited for, well, anywhere else. You tighten the velcro across your chest as if to compress another rush of… nothing useful.

Aaron turns back to you, Dave, Derek, and Strauss. “All right, when the crossfire starts, what's gonna happen to the hostages caught in the middle?”

The question is a trap, and Dave doubles down. “That's the wrong call, Erin, and you know it.”

Strauss falters for a minute, leveling with the rest of you. “It's not my call.”

Aaron doesn’t let up. “You're here and you're in charge.” His tone is sharper than yours would be in the same situation, but you’re nearly fifteen years younger and a whole four steps down on the totem pole.

Not for the first time, a rush of affection and gratitude for him crests over your in a wave and you have to look away, taking a deep breath to collect yourself. When you look back, he’s watching you.

I’m okay.

He nods as Erin speaks again.

“So you want me to disobey the Director?” Erin sounds dubious, at best.

Dave responds quickly. “Yes.”

Aaron amends, and if the situation wasn’t so tense his correction would almost be funny. “No. I just want you to buy us a little time.” He pauses, wavering for a second as he rephrases. “Don't be quite so efficient.”

You’re never surprised by Aaron’s political savvy, but it is a nice reminder that he can run circles around every bureaucrat in the district if given the chance.

“Whatever you're gonna do, do it fast.”

+++

“It’s an impossible ask, Dave. You know JJ will never go for it.”

“It’s not up to JJ.” Aaron’s voice approaches from behind you. “It’s the director’s call, but mine first.”

He comes to rest beside you as Dave leaves the two of you alone.

“What are you gonna do?” You look at Aaron, finding his eyes trained on the monitor, arms crossed over his chest.

He sighs. “If it was you he asked for...”

You bump his shoulder. “What, not interested in feeding me to serial killers today?”

It’s a loaded joke, especially for the two of you, but after Emily, you’re past such things. If the situation were reversed, Haley would never stop giving you hell for getting serial-killed the way she did. It’s only fair to return the favor.

“Over my dead body, baby.” He reaches down to squeeze your hand for a second before letting you go. “Do me a favor?”

“Anything.”

“Stay here.”

+++

You can hear JJ’s anguished shouts from here, beside Dave and the phone.

Derek has a good enough hold on her, Emily and Aaron protecting him from JJ’s wild elbows. She’s beside herself but eventually breaks free and sprints back toward the trailer. You turn to follow her, just in time to hear a gunshot.

Will.

+++

You’re all gathered in the trailer as JJ asks the same questions over and over again. Garcia, just like the first time, doesn’t have any answers.

The static on the monitors is nearly deafening in its silence.

JJ looks at you for a moment and takes a shaky breath before looking at Hotch. Her eyes are red-rimmed and her voice is broken when she speaks. “Aaron.”

You know he’s never been able to deny her anything. In the entire time you’ve known him, it’s one of the few things that hasn’t changed.

His eyes don’t budge from hers. “We’re going in.”

+++

You press the heels of your hands to your eyes, trying to stem the stinging from the heat and debris. Your ears ring and you’ve got a scrape on your chin from where you face-planted into the asphalt.

Eventually, you remove your hands and open your eyes to the early summer sunshine. Your bias is clear enough - Aaron’s the first one you look for and the first one you find.

He’s looking a little dazed and more than a little ruffled, but alive.

Ignoring the whine in your ears and swiping some blood off your face, you jog over to him, taking stock of him from head to toe. “You alright?”

He doesn’t answer right away, and you realize he probably can’t hear you. An image of Kate reaching for you and the smell of blood flashes into your head, but you push it away.

His ear…

“Aaron?” You lay a hand on his shoulder and he startles a little, meeting your eyes and coming back to himself all at once.

He puts his hands on your shoulders, tipping your jaw up with one finger to examine your chin. “You’re hurt.”

“Honey, I’m fine. Your ear…” You follow a small trickle of blood up the side of his neck, rounding him to get a better look. Just as you’d feared, his bad ear is bleeding again.

He waves off your concern and taps his comm mic, calling for support in quick, clear soundbites. You snag the back of his vest before he can get too far away from you.

“As soon as you’re done with that, please get it looked at.”

With a sigh, he nods and gestures to your chin. “I will if you do.”

You roll your eyes.

“Where’s Emily?” You hear Morgan ask JJ as they get their bearings around you.

With a start, you follow them into the building, attached to a couple of SWAT agents. You know Aaron will get after you for going in before everything’s cleared by bomb squad, but you can’t keep still.

The heartache you feel for JJ supersedes anything else going on in your head. It’s something that plagues you all the time - the both of you doing this job. Losing Aaron in the field is a stark reality you can hardly consider at any point, especially when evidence of its reality is right in front of you.

+++

Aaron can’t help himself - he pulls you close after you’re both released by the paramedics, pressing a kiss to your head. It’s almost desperate as he leans back and pulls your collar from your vest, his hands smoothing over your shoulders.

“I need to debrief SWAT and first responders - can you stay with Dave and help with the media?”

“Okay. Let me know if you need any extra hands - I’ll send ‘em right over.”

He smiles at you, soft, small, and affectionate. “Thank you.”

+++

You pull your phone from your pocket.

She picks up on the second ring. “Yeah?”

“Hey, Jess.”

“Hey.” She pauses. “You okay?”

With a shaky sigh, you reply. “Yeah. I’m fine. Aaron’s fine.”

“I heard about the explosion. Is there anything I can do?”

“No, we’re fine. Just...Just stay out of the city.” After another breath. “Is Jack okay?”

She laughs a little. “Yeah. He’s fine. He’s a little anxious but I turned off the TV and we’re headed out to the park for a little while.”

“Good.” You look over at Aaron, who holds your eyes for a second before returning to his EMS strategy huddle.

“Be safe and come home to us soon, okay?”

“Yeah. We will. We love you. Tell Jack we -”

“ - Of course.”

+++

You follow Spencer through the debris once you’re done handling the media storm with Dave. Picking through the rubble, searching for something - anything - but not finding much.

Derek’s voice echoes through the ruined, cavernous space that used to be the main lobby. “Everything they've said and done was for a reason. But what doesn't make any sense is she switched the negotiation demand. Chris wanted to go to Switzerland. She changed it to Chad.”

“They also requested a private plane,” you note, “but no mention of a pilot.”

Spencer stops, and you almost run into him. Emily stops as well, looking back at the pair of you as Spencer organizes his thoughts. When he’s ready to speak, he says, “Guys, if you think about it, even the dates mean something. In 2004, while she was wreaking havoc abroad, he was dishonorably discharged. Then in 2008, they likely met in Chad. And now this in 2012.”

Good thought. But then again, when is one of Spencer’s thoughts bad?

It’s a decent enough question, and you run the gamut of all the surprising and absurd things Spencer’s said in your presence over the years. One in particular comes to mind.

Evil twin, eviler twin.

You hold back a little laugh, despite the harrowing circumstances.

Yeah, that one was pretty bad.

“Okay.” Derek grabs your attention again. “So, is it a coincidence that those are all election years and they attacked D.C.? Maybe this is a political statement.”

Emily’s eyes are stuck on something on the ground, but you’re not sure if it’s what she’s really looking at. “No. It's more personal than that. It's their story.”

Derek’s brow pinches. “What?”

“All of the details are a part of their story.”

She starts to leave through one of the shattered windows and you follow her back to the trailer, Spencer and Derek not far behind. She hops up the steps and you take your place beside Aaron once you’re all inside. It’s much cozier in here, with eight of you.

Spencer fills the rest of the team in on your conversation inside. Unsurprisingly, it’s rote - read like a cold script.

Emily picks up when he’s done. “Their timeline suggests they were both destructive before they met.”

“So we're talking about ex-military turning on their country.” Strauss looks and sounds skeptical, but you can’t blame her. In American culture, it’s rather incongruous.

Now who sounds like Spencer?

“It's rare, but soldiers become disenfranchised no matter what the nationality. And if he met someone like-minded at that time, there'd be no stopping them.”

“So you're thinking they met during the civil unrest in Chad in '08.” Aaron’s voice isn’t skeptical - more probing. You can see the wheels turning behind his eyes.

“Yeah,” Spencer says. “And one or both of them are pilots.”

“So if Garcia concentrates on that region,” Emily points to an area on a map, lit up on the monitor, “specifically weapons running in and out of Libya, there's a good chance we'll find their paths crossed.”

Penelope types furiously for a moment, her fingers flying over the keys. “Okay, multiple entries into Libya for a private pilot named Matthew Downs in '08, but I don't have her name.”

“Well, because she had aliases. It's the only way to stay a ghost.”

Looks like Emily’s Interpol knowledge is coming in handy.

She continues. “Here's the thing - they are a couple. Regardless of what we believe of them, they will celebrate themselves and their connection.” She turns to Penelope, a thought sparking behind her eyes. “Is there anything that happened on this date in Chad?”

“Oh, you are good, Emily Prentiss.” Penelope types for a moment and you lean forward, watching her work. “But this news is not. Yes, there were multiple explosions on this date in '08.”

Aaron speaks from beside you. He’s a little closer than you thought, and it startles you a little.

In fairness, you’re still jumpy from the explosion.

“Where were the most casualties?”

“At a church-- no, no, a train. Yep.”

Morgan squints at the photos of the hulled-out building. “Semtex and C-4?”

Penelope nods while Aaron turns toward Strauss. “Are trains still arriving at Union Station?”

“Yes, but only the authorities are allowed in.” There’s a moment where she almost looks panicked, but collects herself as the rest of you gear up to leave.

Emily exhales down her nose. “That’s why they needed Will.”

+++

Aaron drives impossibly fast through the district. You sit in the back seat with Emily, holding onto the handles above the door for dear life.

You’ve never flashed your badge so many times in such a short period. Aaron tucked his badge into a strap of his vest, just to save time, but still has his credentials locked between his fingers as he drives. If you didn’t trust him so much, it would freak you out a little.

+++

The comm in your ear crackles as Emily speaks. “I found Will.”

“Is he mobile?” Aaron’s voice comes both from beside you and your comm - it’s a little disorienting, but you push through.

“Negative. He's got 6 transmitters on him and this whole place is gonna blow.”

There’s hardly a hesitation in Aaron’s steps as he processes the information. “All right, where are you? I'm on my way.”

He’d like to think he’s made of steel.

Sometimes he is.

“No,” Emily asserts. “You gotta get everyone out. Is the bomb squad here yet?”

“They're 3 minutes away.”

“Copy.” She sounds a little disappointed, or maybe frustrated, but doesn’t say anything else.

He turns back to you, holding you by the shoulders. “I want you leading evacuation. Get out of here.”

Tears prick at your eyes and honestly, this is the first moment you’ve really been afraid. Existentially afraid. Afraid of walking out of this train station and leaving Aaron and Emily and Will to blow up. “I’ll see you later?”

“Yep. Go.” He tries to push you away, but you resist.

“Promise?”

His brown eyes soften as his mouth presses into a thin line. “Can’t. I love you. Get outta here.”

You bounce on your toes for a second, acutely aware you’re wasting valuable time, before yanking him forward to kiss his cheek before you sprint away from him, shouting instructions to the panicked crowd as you go.

+++

You catch up with Derek, racing to catch your suspect. He corners him in an alley but can’t quite overpower him. You reach for your sidearm, but by the time you take aim, Downs is already on the ground, a gunshot ringing through the air.

Startled, you turn over your shoulder to find Aaron still staring down the sight of his Glock.

Could take an eye out, with that thing.

You sigh and holster your weapon. Derek looks plenty dazed and you don’t blame him. It’s not often he’s on the receiving end of a near-miss in close combat. He looks over your shoulder and you can see something pass between him and Aaron.

Maybe one day, Derek will know how much Aaron loves and respects him.

You watch Derek shake it off and stumble as he attempts to rise to his feet.

Today is not that day.

Coming to your senses, you trot forward and help him to his feet, brushing wayward asphalt off of him. You turn back to Aaron. “Everything alright?”

He ignores you, pressing the mic at his chest as he begins to run back toward the station. “Prentiss, what’s your status?”

+++

Seeing Will and Emily leave the building in one piece is a relief. You meet Aaron’s gaze and his eyes are exhausted. The gears in his head still whir. He’s still in game-mode, and it’s a good thing.

With the logistical nightmare of two bomb threats in one day, there’s a lot of work ahead of you.

+++

You swing back and forth in your desk chair, brain completely numb from the paperwork. It’s been a long day, and you’ve been up since three this morning, what with your flight back from California. You’re certain you’ve had longer days than this one, but you’re approaching twenty-one hours without sleep and it feels worse than you remember.

What were we planning to do today?

A bike ride and museum day with Jack seems impossibly long ago. Last week, maybe.

Derek and Emily sit on their desks, attempting to keep a conversation going without much luck.

They were house-hunting this morning.

Penelope slowly descends the stairs as Spencer turns in his seat. “The convention’s still happening tomorrow if you want to go.”

They were at a convention this morning.

Everyone had lives this morning. Weird.

She makes an uncertain noise. “That whole city-on-the-brink-of-destruction thing kinda took the wind out of my sails, you know?”

You look up at her as she takes her place beside Spencer. “It’ll get you every time.”

“You gotta watch out for that,” Emily adds. It makes you smile a little.

Derek looks a little less amused, reminding Emily they��ll have to finish the inspection another time. Between Spencer and Penelope, Emily cops to a crack in the foundation of her almost-home.

“That does not sound good,” Penelope says. You can’t help but agree.

There’s a weird look on Derek’s face, but you ignore it in favor of Strauss’s descent on the stairs.

“Our unsub,” she says, “is Izzy Rogers. She'll be charged with multiple counts domestically, and our international counterparts will have their turn with her. She will never see the light of day.” A little smile graces her lips.

You realize with the tiniest of laughs (really - it’s a one on the Aaron Hotchner scale of laugher, which means it’s hardly noticeable to the naked eye) that you don’t hate her or even dislike her as much as you used to. Maybe, you even want her around.

Don’t push it.

“I just thought you'd like to know that.”

The five of you murmur something that sounds like, “Thank you, ma’am.”

She pulls Derek, probably to kick his ass for something or another and send herself back on your shit list.

That’s a problem for another time.

You take Izzy Rogers’s file from Emily, looking over an impressive rap sheet. You’re happy for a few things.

The first - that Aaron’s not a federal prosecutor anymore. This’ll be a case for the ages.

The second - you’ll never have to think about her again.

The third - you’re not sure. You’re sleep-deprived. It’ll come to you.

She cost me my precious eight hours and I’ll never forgive her.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Aaron leave his office. You set the file down and look up at him, halfway-hoping for once he’ll tell you to go home without him.

“Dave wants to know if everyone is free tomorrow night.”

Without any inflection at all, you reply. “We better not be doing anything tomorrow night.”

“Well,” Derek says, interrupting Emily’s snort. “If he’s buying, then I’m definitely in.”

Emily, Spencer, and Penelope jump onto Derek’s conditional acceptance and a rare smile pulls at Aaron’s face, his dimples on full display.

“Hear that? We’re in.”

+++

When you get home, Aaron all-but carries you to bed. With the tenderest of hands, he removes your shoes and socks, unbuttons your pants, slides them down your legs, and throws them in the laundry basket.

You’re practically wilting where you sit, feeling more and more like a sleepy toddler by the minute.

Aaron unbuttons your shirt and slips it off your shoulders, kissing each cheek in turn. “I’ll start a shower.”

You move to protest, but he strips and that mostly shuts you up. He starts the water before he returns to your side.

“I just want to sleep, Aar. Please.”

“Baby,” he says, a fond little pleading note in his tone. “We just changed the sheets. Do you really want to get semtex all over them?”

With a huff - “No.”

He smiles and helps you to your feet. “Didn’t think so.”

You’re so tired, it doesn't even cross your mind to take advantage of the shared shower or his lack of clothes. By the time he dries you off, tucks you in, and locks the bedroom door to ward off the over-eager six-year-old down the hall, you’re asleep.

His own exhaustion pulling at him, he doesn’t have the time or energy to cherish how peaceful, safe, and warm you look. He just draws you close to him until he can feel your heartbeat.

Sleep takes him rapidly after that.

+++

As Will and JJ exchange their vows, you tuck further into Aaron’s arms. His whisper floats past your ear, barely audible. “Wanna do that sometime?”

“What? Get married?” Your voice is just as quiet.

“Mhmm.”

“Only if it’s you.”

There’s a kiss pressed to your temple with a smile behind it. “I think I can make that happen.”

You turn your head to the side to keep your snark from carrying. “Please don’t propose to me right now. This weekend’s been long enough.”

Derek kicks the side of your foot from where he stands beside you, unable to hear the conversation but knowing you both well enough to keep you from tumbling down the rabbit hole of distraction.

Aaron presses another kiss to your temple. “I love you.” You feel it rather than hear it.

You pick up one of his hands and kiss the back of it. You don’t need to say anything.

+++

Aaron holds you close as you dance together, surrounded by your family. JJ and Will sway back and forth nearby, wrapped entirely in each other. Erin and Dave have been surprisingly brave, dancing and laughing quietly together throughout the evening.

As nice as it was to just have something for the two of you, sharing your love with your family has its own set of perks. You don’t have to hide anymore or justify your pigheaded protection of the other.

You can just… be.

+++

Eventually, Dave calls all the “...fortunately unmarried individuals to the dance floor,” and refuses to let anyone slip through the cracks.

When Aaron hangs back, drink in-hand and a little smile on his face, Dave calls him out. “Divorcés and widowers, too, c’mon.” He pauses, finding another tactic when Aaron doesn’t move. “If you’re both, you get extra points!”

Aaron rolls his eyes and you look around, finding an inappropriate amount of humor in JJ’s confused relatives. You can’t help but bark a loud laugh when you see how hard Derek’s trying to keep his mirth at bay.

Too soon for the dead wife jokes? He seems to ask. Can I laugh?

Something in your eyes gives him tacit permission and he nearly blinds you with his smile.

When Dave’s tricks fall short, you do your best to pull Aaron from the sideline with your best set of bedroom eyes. He courageously resists, so you give up and settle next to Anderson. “What do you think Dave’s come up with, this time?”

“God only knows.”

Anderson, like the rest of you, knows that Dave’s hosting abilities know no bounds.

“Because so many of you are joyfully unmarried, the newlyweds wanted to make sure there was someone else to suffer the slings and arrows of matrimony with them in the near future. Thus,” he opens his arm to JJ, who appears with her bouquet and a smile, “the bouquet toss will be an equal-opportunity event.”

With a laugh and a shake of your head, you prepare to duck out of the way.

You look over at Aaron. This is ridiculous.

He only shakes his head, hiding his smile behind his drink. And yet…

He leaves the rest of the implication unsaid, but you flip him off for good measure. Your exchange must have taken longer than you thought because before you know it, you have a face full of white roses. It’s over.

You pull the flowers from your face and level JJ with a glare across the dance floor. “Really?”

She raises her eyebrows and shrugs. “I turned my back and everything.”

There are whoops and hollers from your team and you can only roll your eyes. Derek and Will strong-arm Aaron onto the dance floor (you know he let them - if he really wanted to avoid you, they wouldn’t be able to move him an inch), where you’re both cajoled into a kiss and a photo. Penelope’s on the other side of the camera, grinning from ear to ear.

She waves at Aaron over the camera. “Smile for real, damn you!”

She amends, adding, “Sir,” for good measure. It has its intended effect and she’s rewarded with a rare, bright laugh from her unit chief.

Absurd traditions aside, you’d be lying if said you stopped smiling even once.

+++

As the party settles, some couples stay out on the dance floor, sedately twirling and swaying to the music that continues to play across the yard.

You and Aaron have relaxed significantly since the Great Bouquet Debacle, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the top two buttons of his shirt undone. You’re sitting across his lap, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, with one of his arms wrapped around your middle and the other draped over your knees - the picture of relaxation.

Penelope, Derek, Emily, and Will have taken up residence on the other side of the dance floor, their heads close together and voices low.

Aaron’s eyes slide over them as he watches the room, scanning out of habit. “What do you think they’re talking about?”

You lean further into him as four pairs of eyes flicker over to you before returning to their huddle. “Us, probably.”

He hums, understanding and pensive. “Probably our sex life, right?”

“Probably,” you sigh, playing at boredom. He covers your hand with one of his and you play with his fingers - lacing, unlacing, kissing his knuckles.

It’s nice to feel safe, comfortable enough to love each other where curious eyes can see you.

You can feel his smile against your forehead as he presses a kiss between your brows.

“I mean,” you continue, “there is a lot to talk about.”

He shrugs, adjusting his arm where it lays across your legs to keep you both comfortable in the seat you share. “That’s true enough. Though, I can’t imagine any of their projections being right.”

+++

“I bet they’re into like…tantric sex. Like hours and hours and hours you know?” Penelope says, conspiracy the top note in her tone.

Derek looks at her and she backtracks, only a little on the defensive.

“What? Spencer’s talked to me about it before and I...read.”

He rolls his eyes, but Emily spares Penelope from any further interrogation.

“I could see that.” She watches the way your fingers wander over Aaron’s bare forearm, playing with the ridges of his watch, the way his thumb absent-mindedly draws small circles on your outer thigh. “Yeah, actually I think that’s exactly what happens.”

+++

“What do you think they’ve got so far?”

He plays at boredom. “They’re probably trying to take a guess at anything they can reach - with both of our profiles in Derek’s pocket, he’s going to have the most luck, I think.”

“Really?” You ask. “Not Emily?”

He snorts. “No. She has her mind on other things.”

That holds you up for a second, and you’re not sure if he’s still playing into the bit. “Wait, what do you mean?”

He shakes his head. “I’ll tell you later.”

“She’s resigning, isn’t she?” You give up the fun and lay your head in the crook between his neck and shoulder.

Without thinking, his hand rises to your cheek, affectionately brushing over your cheekbone before dropping back down. “She might be.”

“Did she do that thing where she sighs really big and then looks off to the upper right middle distance?”

“Yeah.”

“Shit.”

You’re both quiet for a moment, just enjoying the low lull of the music and the lights and the sights and smiles of your family.

“Hey.”

You lean back a little and meet Aaron’s eyes. “Yeah?”

“What’s my tell?”

The concern drops out of your face all at once. “You think I’m gonna spill just like that so you can go and change it on me? Not a chance.”

He sighs and his chin tips up in defeat. “So I have one?”

“Of course you do, stupid.” You flick his chest and a laugh rumbles through him. “Everyone does. You know mine, I know yours. You’re gonna have to get over it.”

“So you’ve caught me in lies before?” He asks, not without humor.

“Duh. I’m pretty sure I’ve caught every lie you’ve ever told, but you seemed so proud of yourself that I just let you have it.”

You can almost feel the eye roll. “Really?” He sounds skeptical. “Name one lie you’ve caught me in.”

“Alright.” You count off on your fingers. “You dinged my car door a couple of weeks ago, you definitely didn’t drop the bags at Goodwill, you do know it wasn’t Jack who finished the ice cream in the freezer, you -”

“Okay.” He covers your hands with his and kisses your fingers. “That’s enough. I get it.”

You kiss his cheek. “I’m sure you’ve caught me in every single lie I’ve ever told, too, huh?”

“Only every once since the day we met. Yours is obvious.”

It’s a trap. You don’t take it. “Hmm. That’s convenient.”

“Isn’t it?”

You lean back to look at him. “You’re a shit, you know that?”

He nods and raises his eyebrows, a cheeky, close-mouthed smile slowly creeping across his face.

You playfully smack his chest with the back of your hand. “Fucker.”

He says something under his breath and you level him with a look that has him repeating himself.

“I said, you wish.”

You roll your eyes and tuck back into his neck, kissing the skin above his collar. You can feel him shiver and you know you’ve got him. “Not just wish, honey. Know.”

+++

tagging: @writefasttalkevenfaster @arganfics @quillvine @stxrryspencer @hurricanejjareau @ughitsbaby @rousethemouse @criminalsmarts @genevievedarcygranger @ssaic-jareau @davidrossi-ismydad @angelsbabey @hotchsflower @hotchslatte @risenfox @mrs-dr-reid @captain-christopher-pike @dwellingsofrosie @pan-pride-12 @sunshine-em @word-scribbless @jdougl-love @dreila03 @forgottenword @aaronhotchnerr @ssa-morgan @sana-li @tegggeeee @abschaffer2 @ssacandice-ray @ellyhotchner @lotties-journey-abroad @mrs-joel-pimentel-23-25 @mooneylupinblack @ssareidbby @bwbatta @wakatoshislover @capricorngf @missdowntonabbey @averyhotchner @mandylove1000 @qvid-pro-qvo @jeor @spencers-hoodrat @popped-weasels @evee87 @nuvoleincielo @this-broken-band-girl @reidtomestyles @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @winqhster @arthurmorrgans @the-falling-in-the-danger @iconicc @mangoberry43 @andreasworlsboring101 @mac99martin @itsalwaysb33nyou @baumarvel @kerrswriting @messyhairday-me @ssworldofsw @deagibs @crazyshannonigans @moonshinerbynight @jhiddles03 @teamhappyme @mendesmelodies @starsandasteroids @unicorn-bitch @ambicaos @bispences @thebivirgin

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #hotch #tali writes fanfiction #tali talks cm #a joyful future #a joyful future fanfic

418 notes · View notes

katieebaby1096 · 3 years

Text

A/N: this pic posted by @kylorenxreader inspired me to write this fic. At first it was a one shot but I’ve decided to make it multiple chapters! I hope you all enjoy!

You find yourself getting into trouble with the commander and eventually end up in a sticky situation.

Warning: explicit content, smut, lack of aftercare, read at your own discretion.

18+ only

Eternal Shine Pt. 1

There’s just something about Her

You’d been with the First Order for a whole year now and it wasn’t going quite how you thought it’d be. The first month or two passed by seemingly boring, however as more time went on and you long to catch attention from a man, the only attention you’d gotten yourself is from the commander himself. You’d managed to get yourself in trouble with Commander Ren 9 times between the third and fourth month. It all started when one night on a raid you had accidentally shot a civilian who was resisting arrest. The commander had stopped dead in his tracks and as if reading your mind he stormed up to you and said, “you feel bad and regret shooting a traitor girl?”

“No, commander Ren, sir!” You quickly replied.

“You can’t lie to me..KT-8696. Report to captain phasma after we land to receive your punishment for disrespecting your Commander.” He hissed in his mechanical voice.

After receiving 5 lashings and 2 days of cleaning duty you’d tried your best to shape up but it seemed at least twice a week you’d managed to stumble into trouble with the commander. It’d been nearly two weeks with no instances of trouble and you’d had a feeling that whole day that something was amiss. You were walking down the hallway, making your way to the dining hall barely paying attention when you had ran into what felt like a wall. Looking up, you find yourself looking into the maskless face of none other than a very angry looking Commander Kylo Ren.

“You really just can’t stay out of my way can you? You stupid girl,” he spat at you as he backed you into the wall, you remained speechless.

“I think you like getting in trouble hmm? Not getting enough attention? The lashings just not teaching you anything?” His hand reached out to tightly grasp your throat.

“No sir, I don’t mean to cause you trouble,” you barely croaked out before trying to gulp in more air. You were taking in his appearance as he processed what you’d said. He had beautiful amber colored eyes, a big nose, plump red lips and creamy skin decorated by a few slight beauty marks. He was stunningly beautiful and as his hand tightened more completely cutting off your air you felt a heart blossom in your core. If this is how you go then at least you’ll die looking at the most beautiful thing in the galaxy. A sadistic grin shaped on his lips then.

“This is getting you off,” he let out a quiet chuckle before removing his grip and grasping onto the hair on the back of your head, “alright then, whore, I’ll teach you a little lesson myself,” He whispered almost to himself as he pulled you along down the hallway.

Several minutes and two elevator rides later and you were being pulled through a big black door and thrown to the floor.

“Stand up,” he demanded.

“I’m sorry Sir, I just don’t understand..?” He quickly moved to stand over you and crouched to grasp you by your throat again.

“You are going to be my little pet tonight. I can sense your arousal, practically smell your pussy dripping into your panties.” He let go of your neck and offered you his hand to help you stand.

“Take off your clothes,” you did as he instructed, slowly removing each item of armor and clothing until you were left standing in your white thong. His eyes roamed over your thick hips and thighs, up to your small waist and large breasts then stopped on your face. You had let your fingers linger in the waistband of your thong nervously.

“These as well sir?” You’d asked meekly. His lip quirked up on one side showing a dimple in his cheek as he slowly nodded

“Those too.”

“Yes sir,” you whispers hesitantly. He sat there observing your fair, freckled face as you pushed your thong passed your hips and let them drop to your feet. He had only ever seen you with your helmet on, Kylo hadn’t any clue how beautiful you were or how curvaceous your small body was.

“Go lay on the bed,” he instructed pointing to the bed situated directly in front of the window.

You obeyed willingly plopping down on the extremely neat sheets and laying back, letting my knees fall apart instinctively.

“Look at you, I can see your juices glistening as it drips from your pretty little cunt.” He spoke firmly as he sauntered to you and dropped down on the bed over you, pulling your legs into his hands.

“Do you want me to touch you, girl?”

“Yes sir!” He smiled widely at my gasping response.

“Good,” he whispered before leaning back on his heels and pushing your legs forward so your ass and pussy were in perfect height with Kylos face. You could practically feel his breath on your wet, virgin cunt as he looked at it drip. You felt his large nose nudge your clit, eliciting a moan from deep within you.

“You smell so sweet, let’s see how you taste shall we?” He licked a wide, wet stripe from your clit down to your entrance as he looked down into your eyes, surprise striking his his features as his tongue begins to enter you.

“A virgin hmm? today must be your lucky day,” he said as he released your ankles and moved to lay beside you. His hand goes to your neck before sliding down between your breasts, over the slight swell of your chubby belly and dives between your thighs to cup your sensitive mound.

“Im not going to promise I’ll be gentle but I’ll try to make it as comfortable as possible,” he said with a dark look in his eyes.

“Yes sir,” was all you could manage to get passed your lips.

His fingers slipped into your delicate, silky folds making slow circles around your clit. He leaned in close and put his soft lips on your aggressively when he pushed a finger into your pulsating hole. Pulling back he looked into your eyes while starting to slowly pump his finger in and out. You could help but let out soft moans as the heat in your core grew.

“Look at me,” he demanded. Once you obliged he plunged a second finger into you pushing and pulling faster. You felt yourself tense up and wince at the intrusive feeling. He must’ve noticed as he slowed his pace and began massaging your clit with his thumb. The heat within was growing quickly now as Kylo pulled moans and groans from your lips that you didn’t know were possible. His head dropped to the crook of your neck and began sucking at the sensitive skin, “oh, Kylo, it feels so..” you could even get the words out as your pussy began to pulsate on his fingers. He pulled away then and looked at you writhing under him as you climbed closer to the edge, “ready for another one?” You gripped his bicep tightly as he inserted a third finger and quickening his pace.

“I want you to come hard on my fingers, you don’t want to disappoint your commander do you princess?” You shook your head as more moans left you, you were teetering on the edge now.

“I want to cum for you sir!” You whined out, “please sir, please make me cum!” You begged.

He pulled his fingers from you then and stood up.

“Wait, I thought..” you mumbled out, embarrassed at how desperate you must have sounded.

“On your knees trooper,” he commanded.

“Yes sir,” you scrambled to your knees as he approached you. He stopped just in front of you, crotch just in front of your face.

“Undress me,” he demanded, gesturing to his clothes.

“Yes sir,” you wasted no time practically ripping his clothes off until he stool in front of you, naked, letting his long and thick cock poke you.

“Get back on the bed, hands and knees.”

You happily obliged, ignoring the pestering nerves causing your hands to shake. You posed yourself as he’d commanded and waited for contact, not expecting the sharp slap he gave to your right ass cheek.

“Count.”

“One.” You blurted out.

Smack.

“Two.”

Smack

“Three.” His smacks got more intense as he kept going.

Smack.

“Four!” You’d wailed out this time.

Smack.

“Five!” You cried out, clenching your thighs together at his harshest hit.

“Good girl,” he spoke lowly now as he rubbed the redness of your cheek. You felt his hand on the center of your back pushing you towards the mattress.

“Are you ready?” He asked, rubbing the head of his cock along your folds getting it wet with your juices.

“Yes sir,” you whispered.

He pushed into you then going in all the way until he couldn’t go any deeper, letting out a deep groan at your loud gasp. He rested there for a minute letting you adjust before pulling all the way out and slamming right back in and repeating this over a few times. You bit your lip drawing blood to keep from howling at the burning sensation from the stretch. He abruptly stopped his movements and you felt his hand snake into the back of your hair and he pulled you back into him, letting go of your hair to wrap his arm around your waist and travel between your breasts to rest on your neck.

“I’m going to make you cum on my cock,” he whispered into your ear as his other hand snaked down to your mound rubbing quick circles on your clit. He began to pound into you again holding your back against his chest drawing you back to an orgasm, you slick making each thrust easier and feel so much better. His fingers on your clit and his cock pulsing in and out of you bringing you right to the edge, “I know your close princess. I’m gonna cum in this pussy while you cum on this cock!”

“Oh Kylo, it feels so good,” you blurt out, “I’m gonna-I think I’m gonna cum sir! Please make me cum!” His pace became almost murderous as he pounded into you, rubbing your clit furiously, “cum-oh god- fuck your so fucking tight- fuck fuck fffffuck! Cum on this cock right now!” He growled into your ear, pushing you over the edge.

“Ohhhhhh! Gods yes! Thank you commander sir! Oh fuck!” You yelped out. He helped you ride out your orgasm before he pulled out of you. You looked over to see him putting his underwear and pants on before throwing your clothes and armor at you.

“Get dressed and get out. Next time you give me trouble, I won’t be so nice.” With that he left you to get dressed. You’d waddled back to your quarters that night with mixed feelings of loneliness and pride. Unbeknownst to you, Kylo Ren had waited til you left to take his clothes back off and stumble into his bed and replay everything he’d just done. He laid there under his strewn about sheets that smelled of peaches and cherry blossom just as you had, thinking about how beautiful you were. You had the most beautiful eyes that he’d swear had eternal shine that he’d never forget.

There was something about you that drew him to you. He just couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he intended to figure it out.

—-

It had been a month since your last interaction with the commander and you were feeling confident. In that time you’d managed to go on 3 dates with a guy named RC-2242, youd even gone so far as to let him into your bed. Unfortunately for you he was nothing like Kylo Ren, he had a rather small cock and he didn’t know jack about pleasing a woman. Of course after a month of staying out of the commanders way you were bound to run into him. Unfortunately it happened to be on a night that you’d gone out with good ole RC-2242. The two of you were nestled into a booth having a drink when you’d felt his eyes on you, sure enough there he was across the bar in all his masked glory but you could still feel his honey eyes boring into you. All you could muster was an awkward smile and wave. Before you even knew he had stomped over to your table, “KT-8696, please report to my office immediately.” He stomped out of the bar without another glance in your direction.

“Well,” you sighed,”I suppose I probably found myself some trouble somehow. I hope you can excuse me, I’ve got to go.”

“Of course! The commander is not someone I’d keep waiting!” He replied coolly before kissing your hand and watching you go.

What could I have possibly done now?

I’ve stayed out of his way, haven’t even seen him in a month for goodness sake!

Your mind ran wild as You made your way to the commanders office. Trying to think of things you might’ve done to upset him. It hit you then as You arrived in front of his office door. He’d seen you out with RC-2242. Just as you’d stopped about to know the door slid open revealing a maskless Kylo Ren with a very nasty look on his face.

“You and I need talk,” he said seriously, anger radiating from his glare on the small purple bruise at the base of your neck.

#Kylo Ren x reader #Kylo Ren x you #smut #starwars #Kylo Ren #Kylo Ren smut #lack of aftercare #kylos kind of a dick #adam driver #galaxy #sexy space man

105 notes · View notes

beomglocks · 3 years

Text

in the middle ; c.yj

summary : it wasn’t supposed to go this far right?

pairing : yeonjun x reader x beomgyu (?)

warnings & other : cheating, angst (?), requested, slightly suggestive???

w/c : 1.4K

to be fair, you didn't know it would go this far.

was it your fault that choi beomgyu was the kindest most charismatic person alive? no. was it your fault you warned him that you were already dating the most possessive and jealous person in the world aka choi yeonjun and he had responded with: "well it's not like we're doing anything."? absolutely not.

what is your fault is the fact that you still went along with it. when beomgyu told you that you both wouldn't be doing anything you knew that was bullshit. he's handsome as fuck and you're slightly attracted to him. hell yeah, something's definitely happening.

you were asleep on beomgyu's bed when you heard it. it seemed to be right next door which is why it shook you from your sleep.

it sounded like a thump, more like something backing up into the wall nearest to your head.

you roll over to inform beomgyu that something or someone was on the other side of the wall disturbing your sleep. whenever you felt even the slightest bit disturbed you knew beomgyu would not hesitate to come to your rescue.

however, when you stretched and rolled over expecting to see the boy who you thought would also be occupying the bed with you, he was nowhere to be found. you frowned immediately. beomgyu was clingy, even in his sleep he would be latching onto you so tight that it was sometimes hard for you to wake up if you needed to use the bathroom.

you don't know if he had even fallen asleep after you since you were so tired from work. it was late and he was already perched up on his bed when you arrived. he had greeted you sweetly and offered for you to take a nap on his bed.

you agreed since none of the other boys seemed to be at the dorm at the time. this was the perfect time to be close to beomgyu without yeonjun questioning it.

how you both managed to get away with it for this long was baffling, not just to you but to beomgyu. he was the one who was mostly around your boyfriend and yet he still composed himself when all three of you were in the same room.

you loved yeonjun, you love him so much it hurts but beomgyu was right there and you'd be damned if you let that go.

the thumping happened again but a bit harsher. you couldn't possibly be expected to sleep at this rate.

you got up from the bed, dragging your feet over to the room which happened to be yeonjun's room. you knocked on the door lightly hoping to get some answers but no one opened it. you heard hushed voices behind the door but that was about it.

"yeonjun? are you in there?" you heard another thump in response and then something crash. your eyes widened, now concerned you turn the door handle to see if he's ok. normally you wouldn't waltz into any of the boys rooms but hearing consistent thumping and now a crash had you concerned.

when you opened the door, what you weren't expecting to see was beomgyu on top of yeonjun on the ground with a fist to the eldest face. "what the hell are you two doing?" you run up to them and try to detach beomgyu from yeonjun. looking around, you can pretty much decipher that a fight had taken place.

yeonjun shoves beomgyu off of him and scrambles to his feet. "i saw you guys you know." he wipes his lip and nods. "you guys were in bed together i can't just let him put his hands on you like that! you're mine".

he faces beomgyu again and they're about to have at it again when you intervene once more.

"yeonjun stop," you grab his arm and make him face you. you didn't feel bad when you cheating on him but damn it why does he have to look so broken right now.

"he wasn't having his way with me or whatever, i was-," you sigh, studying his facial expression. all he does is stare at you waiting for you to continue.

"im sorry, i was cheating on you."

he steps away from you, looking between you and beomgyu in disbelief. "really?" is all he says.

you nod hesitantly, not really knowing what to say that would make the situation better. "give it up yeonjun, she didn't want you anymore that's why she came to me," beomgyu shrugs.

yeonjun clenches his fist and sends it flying towards the other boys face. beomgyu isn't fast enough to dodge it so he ends up stumbling back when he gets hit. "yeonjun what the fuck!" you grab yeonjun and pull him away and you can see the tears going down his face.

"why though..." he mumbles. he tries to go in to kiss you but you move backwards. "yeonjun look, im sorry but i just- i dont know... i guess i just wanted beomgyu too," you say without much emotion.

yeonjun lowers his head in defeat. "you wanted him? you had me though," he grits out. "well what the hell was all this then?" he motions around his room, where ironically, there are some photos of you both hung up and even some gifts you had gotten him. "huh y/n? what the fuck was all this then!?" he slides some pictures off a nearby shelf, sending them crashing onto the floor.

you step back cautiously to make sure you don't mistakenly step on the shattered glass. now there's broken glass separating you from yeonjun and it all feels a little too real to you. "yeonjun calm down!" you scold him in an attempt to get him to chill out. knowing him, it won't work though.

"calm down?" he sucks his teeth and laughs. "you want me to calm down when i gave you so much? you wasted my time!"

you flinch when he sends another picture frame to the ground along with some other miscellaneous items. you feel beomgyu snake his arm around you as some form of protection but you don't feel very protected right now.

yeonjun seems to notice this and he grows visibly angrier and more tears go streaming down his face. "get out," he says to beomgyu.

its silent for a moment as they seem to have some kind of stare off but ultimately beomgyu backs down, being over this already. "i'll be outside," he says forcibly. you watch as he narrowly avoids some glass but shoves yeonjun on the way out.

you can tell it takes everything in yeonjun not to pounce on him. when beomgyu is gone yeonjun turns back to you and sighs in frustration. "i'm so tired. i had to come home to- to this!" he pulls at his hair, unable to process what's going on.

"i said i was sorry ok? i didn't think it would be like this," you say. "what the fuck did you think it'd be like then huh? did you think you could go around being a slut with some other guy's dick up your ass without me knowing? how far did you really think you could take this?!" he starts getting angry again remembering seeing you in bed with beomgyu.

it all made sense to him now. the affectionate touches, the weird glances at practice. he should've seen it coming earlier but unfortunately, he didn't.

"i-" he cuts you off. "what? got some excuse? well, who's next y/n? who next, is it soobin? you been fucking around with soobin too??" he taunts. "yeonjun!" you step over the glass to shove his chest but he doesn't even flinch. he grabs your wrists, using whatever energy he has left to throw you on his bed.

"i hate you so much now," he says as he hovers above you. you look up at him with an apologetic gaze, deciding to stay silent in case he decides to lash out again. he suddenly chuckles, "what? do you seriously think we're gonna do something?" you look away, embarrassed that you actually had a slight anticipation that he would somehow make love to you at that moment.

he shakes his head with a bitter smile, "this isn't like the other times y/n. we usually fight then have angry sex but this isn't what's happening."

"yeonjun i really did like you," you say silently. "that's bullshit," he spits. "i can't believe anything you say and that hurts." he gets up from you, pacing around the room.

"if you really care then just leave. be with beomgyu i don't care but i don't wanna see you anymore. don't ever come around me and don't even think about interacting with me ever again," he sighs. you get up from his bed silently, hesitant about touching him or saying anything.

"bye," you mumble. "whatever," is all he says in response.

#yeonjun imagines #yeonjun reactions #yeonjun drabbles #yeonjun drabble #yeonjun angst #txt imagines #drabble #tomorrow x together imagines #txt headcanons #yeonjun headcanons #txt reactions #txt scenarios #yeonjun timestamps #yeonjun fic #yeonjun x reader #angst

107 notes · View notes

courtlyharlequin · 4 years

Note

Hey!! I was wondering if i can have a candied rose frappuccino with floyd please. Thanks 😊

Sugar Addict

Warning(s): mild spice, lowkey spicy ending

A/N: I went feral. What is plot? I ended up writing more than expected. Also, I was too lazy to proofread so I apologize for my horrible grammar. Feel free to correct me! I should probably get a beta reader...

Context: This is an AU. Yes, a coffeeshop AU, but some things are different. These characters are aged up and NRC is actually a college.

It was unexplainable, this feeling. Twilight. The sun was setting. Traffic ensued streets as people poured out of work and into their vehicles, all with one destination: home. But for you, home was the last place you wanted to go. You were a student who did not need to fret over something like a job. You had the convenience of asking for a ride or traveling by foot to reach local destinations not far from your oh so prestigious school. At this moment, at twilight, you were experiencing the convenience of the latter. Well, a normal person would not call it a convenience. These days made taking a stroll an absurd pastime. But right now, it was both a convenience and a pastime. The roads were clogged by a massive sea of cars. Your nose crinkled at the stench of gasoline. Choosing to traverse by foot was more pragmatic. You were in a rush as well. Your destination might close any minute now!

From the inside of any of the vehicles on the street, you were akin to a hooligan. A scrambling, mad hooligan. Not only were you running in the opposite direction of where these cars were going, you were also running as your life depended on it. Therefore, you were a crazy person who was running into the city suburbs at a somewhat late hour rather than going home. Mothers in said vehicles shook their heads in dismay, praying their children were safe at home. But, you could not care any less. Night Raven College’s headmaster was very lenient on curfews and was susceptible to bribery if all else fails. But to be fair, your destination was not something to be frowned upon. It was something to laugh at, really. The place you were so desperate to get to was none other than a café.

More specifically, Café Rosé . Cheesy, chessy, yes, you were aware. The café was notorious for their supposed love potion of a latte, but you weren’t coming for that. You wanted to try their Candied Rose Frappuccino. You were a lover of all sweets; You could never live with yourself if you didn’t try it. Of course, this coffee shop was not going anywhere nor was this beverage a limited one. You simply were in the mood for it. It was craving, a whim, a last minute decision.

You sighed heavily, leaning against the café’s exterior walls. With one deep breath, you pushed the rose-tinted glass door open. The chime signaled your entrance. You braced yourself for a barista to question your hazed, flushed state… but it never came. Still heaving, you scanned the shop. You made your way to the counter to check for employees in the back room.

Thud!

“Hey, Shrimpy! Café’s closed,” a voice glowered.

You spun your heel, making eye contact with a barista with a disheveled appearance– his aquamarine hair was slightly unkempt, his tie was unraveled and dangled loosely around his neck, dress shirt unbuttoned down to the point where his collar bone was exposed with his sleeves rolled up which furthermore accentuated his lean yet muscular figure. It was all too much to take in. He put his weight onto the nearest table. Ah, the thud came from a chair he just stacked… but nevermind that-!! The moment he moved into that position, he exposed a bit of his cleavage. Hot damn he might be lean at first glance, but he was built like a Greek god. This should be illegal! A barista should not be dressing– let alone be looking– like that. Everyone would suffer from a cardiac arrest from such a heartthrob! You quickly averted your attention to the café’s schedule.

“The business hours sign says you guys close at seven. It’s six fifty-two right now,” you said, holding up your phone.

“Close enough. Get lost.”

He walked over to you suavely, leaning over you and against the door frame to flip the open-closed sign over so that it’s closed side faced the streets. It was meant to be a gesture of mockery and intimidation, but holy hell… you were flustered more than anything. He was tall from afar but up close he was huge!! You even got a better look at his chest. Well defined, if you don’t say so yourself. Wait–

You shoved him back, “Not even for a to-go order?”

“Nope. Don’t feel like it.”

“But you’re not closed yet!”

“But I don’t wanna,” he whined.

“Why?”

“What?”

“I asked you ‘why’?”

“Can’t you just come back tomorrow and let me call it a day? I’m tired.”

“That’s not an excuse.”

“I ran all the way here just to get something–”

“Should’ve done it earlier,” he shrugged, returning to his chore.

“Okay. Fine. Is there anyone else here to serve me? Since you’re too ‘tired’?”

“Sorry, Shrimpy, but they all went home.”

“Ugh! Don’t call me something that makes us seem so familiar. I’m not that short anyway...” you huffed.

He snickered, walking behind the register, “Alright then, Shr-im-p-y~! What would you like to order that you just had to come in at the last minute today?”

While you were relieved he gave into serving you a drink, the way he enunciated your unwanted nickname was irksome.

“I’ll have one Candied Rose Frappuccino.”

“Oh thank god it isn’t that latte.”

“You mean the Rosé Latte?”

“Mhm,” he hummed, loudly tapping on the cash register, “Everyone has been flocking here and only ordering that. I’m so tired of making the same order everyday.”

“Sorry, I’m not into hot beverages. Just a person who likes sweets.”

“Cute,” he cooed, handing you your receipt.

You watched as he messily wrote “Shrimpy” onto your cup.

“Can I get your name?” you asked.

“My name?”

“Yeah.”

“What for?”

“Somehow you’re slowly becoming my favorite barista.”

Partially a lie, partially the truth. He was your favorite because he was so fine. You only wanted his name in case you ever decided to write a review on your bitter first meeting with him or if you came across the manager. Petty, yes, but it annoyed you that much.

“Floyd, Floyd Leech,” he grinned.

You checked the receipt and sat down at the barstools in front of the barista’s worktable, watching him intently as he began to work on your order. Well, half your attention was actually on his hand movements. Your mind was having an internal battle about how shameful you were to fantasize about his back muscles, mentally undressing him. The fact that there were only you two in the coffeehouse did not help either. The silence, at its surface, was calming, but, at its core, it was awkward. With the occasional clinks of utensils and the sound of coffee being brewed and blended into a frappuccino, the lack of noise left your mind to wander.

“Just because he’s good looking does not make up for the fact that he was rude,” you chided yourself.

Floyd cocked his head: “Hey. What are you staring at?”

He looked behind him as if there was actually something of interest. You saw your drink in his hand. He held it close to his chest, withholding it, waiting for your answer.

“Oh? Um.. nothing? I was just zoning out. I’m tired from running all the way here.”

“Shrimpy’s no fun,” he pouted.

“My name is (y/n), not Shrimpy.”

“You’re short, jumpy, and huggable like a shrimp~”

“I am not that short!”

“Oh-!!! You remind me of Goldfish. You both get so mad for some reason,” he laughed.

“Listen here–”

The barista took a swig of your order. He didn’t take the dome-shaped lid out. He didn’t even drink it with a straw. He just… straight up… put his lips on the lid and drank the contents from the rim. You halted your rant, appalled by his audacity.

“You talk too much, Shrimpy.”

In this total silence, someone, if there were someone here, would have heard your sanity and patience snapped.

“Listen here, Floyd Leech. That was awfully rude of you. Actually, from the beginning, you were so rude! From getting into my personal bubble to calling me names when I told you to stop. And now you drink my order? And right in front of me too?! So, so, rude-!!! I just–”

“Wow. What an expansive vocabulary you have,” he glared, twiddling with the collar of his shirt and somehow exposing more of his collarbone.

You leaned over the counter, reaching for your beverage, heat traveling up your cheeks, “I’m not done yet! Just because you’re hot does not mean you can dress like that and automatically get a free pass to do these things! Do you have any idea how distracting that was?? Now–wHAAA!!”

You pounced at him. Your toes hung on the edge of the barstool, your left arm wrapped around Floyd’s neck, and your right arm stretched out in an attempt to reach the drink in Floyd’s hand. Much to your annoyance, he raised it higher than you could ever hope to reach. If he took anymore steps back, you would most likely flop onto the barista’s side of the table face-first. With the drink in his left hand, his weight (and yours) was shifted onto his right arm which conveniently propped itself against the countertop behind him. You wondered what people on the road thought when they saw what was going on inside the café.

It was early evening with a decent amount of cars on the street before the storefront. Nearly twenty minutes since you came into the café and here you are– without your order, curfew approaching steadily, and no sign of getting your frappuccino anytime soon. Instead, you were sprawled across the counter, a test of your flexibility and modesty.

“I didn’t really think Shrimpy was this bold, this naughty,” Floyd chuckled.

Ah shit. Your anger got the best of you. Your verbal filter was removed and all of your thoughts slipped past your conscious and common sense. His sly grin did not help at all. Your close proximity enhanced your blush. The way you clung onto him caused his shirt to slide off his left shoulder and with the position you were in, you had a front seat to all his glory. What a sticky wicket this was.

“I just wanted something sweet to drink,” you panted, fisting his shirt in your petite palms, frustration washing over you.

You were on the verge of tears. Floyd sighed, lowering the cup just a bit, and took a few steps back as he carefully let you slide onto the barista’s side of the counter. However, your beverage was still out of reach.

“You’re such a snowflake,” he mumbled.

You clung to him, still, using him as leverage to reach your order, “Am not. This wouldn’t have happened if you just let me have my coffee!”

“You mean this hell of a sugary confection??”

“Yes? I mean I wouldn’t know because I haven’t even tried it yet,” you grunted, jumping at it like a fish trying to catch the bait.

“Oi, (y/n), can I kiss you?”

That was the first time he used your actual name instead of “Shrimpy” ever since you met. You would rejoice, but the following words were out of the question. His tone made it sound more like a demand than a request of consent.

“Excuse me?!”

“You wanted to try the drink right?”

“Yes, but it’s right there in your hand! So if you would just let me have it, I’ll stop annoying you!”

“The taste is lingering in my mouth. It’s so sweet. I wanna get rid of it…”

“Get some water.”

He squeezed his right arm around your waist, bringing you closer to his face, “But I want to kiss you~!”

“Well, since you drank out of it, if you let me have it, then we can have an indirect kiss!”

The temperature of the coffee shop was just unbearable at this point. And worst of all, this was self-inflicted. You didn’t have to tolerate him. Frankly, you should have left the moment he told you the café was “closed”. You didn’t have to pounce on him and end up in this painstakingly uncomfortable position either. Moreover, you were sweating from embarrassment from your suggestion. An indirect kiss! That was such a childish thing to fret about and here you were, regretting your own words.

“That’s no fun,” Floyd said, taking another sip of your frappuccino.

“Hey–mmpff!!”

Despite how he manhandled you thus far, he kissed you very tenderly. His lips were soft, warm even. As much as you wanted to push him back and scold him for taking away something as precious as your first kiss, you couldn't. Everything just… felt right. Your grip on his shirt loosened. Before, you held them in your palms in anger, a way of intimidation, a sign to show him that you weren’t going to back down even if he was teasing you with no mercy. But now, you held Floyd’s collar to close the space between you two. You were this close to each other, but it wasn’t close enough.

You gasped as he nibbled your lip. Floyd took it upon himself to invite his tongue over to your wet cavern. A sugary substance flooded your taste buds. Ah… he never swallowed your drink.... Not that it mattered. You gulped it in one breath, continuing on with your tango of tongues. If Floyd wasn’t supporting your waist, you might’ve melted away into this temporary bliss. You momentarily broke away from him to catch your breath. The distance between you two was barely five centimeters. He growled lowly, taking two steps forward, pushing you towards the bar. He smashed his lips against yours, a clear sign for you not to do that again. A fire lit in his eyes. Floyd hungrily bit your bottom lip, earning a whimper in response. Without breaking away from your mouth, only turning his head to take you at a different angle, he hoisted you up and set you and the beverage down on the countertop. Now, with both hands free, he cupped your cheeks. You responded by wrapping your legs around his waist and grabbing his wrists, drawing away his hands.

“W-Wait…” you exhaled.

“...did you not like that?” he cocked his head.

“No... No… I liked it… I liked it a lot… I just… S-Slow down…”

Floyd reached for the ends of your hair, twirling with the strand, “Take your time…”

Perhaps it was purely the heat of the moment or lust, but you judged him too soon. In this brief period of time, he was being considerate of you. He traced your figure with his eyes, grinning from ear to ear at your bruised lips, bright pink from the dozens of kisses he gave you. You were just as disheveled as he was.

“...More..”

“You sure?”

“I’m thirsty,” you pouted.

Floyd let out a chortle before sipping your coffee, “Alright, then Shrimpy.”

You prepared yourself for yet another rough session. Before he took your lips, he smoothed back his hair, revealing his forehead. The gesture caught you off guard thus you stiffened as he brushed his lips against yours. By gods, it was as if he wasn't even trying to be provocative. Was it possible for someone to be this seductive without actual effort? At this rate, you were going to miss curfew..

“Floyd…” you moaned, intertwining your fingers with his as he pushed you down onto the counter.

“I’ll be gentle, don’t worry...”

“Floyd… No… T-There’s people watching-!!!”

“So?”

“Does that not bother you?!”

“Not when they’ll know you’re mine~”

You sat up, “I’m a bit too shy for that. A-And I would like for my first time to be private…”

You left the last part trail off in embarrassment, fiddling with his necktie which somehow managed to stay on his person despite everything that just happened.

“Oh? Is Shrimpy a virgin?” he teased.

“So what if I am?!”

“Nothing. Just thought a cute Night Raven College girl like you wouldn’t be since you were really good~”

He earned himself a playful smack on the shoulder to which he responded with a sarcastically scoff. This was so unfair...

“How did you know that I went there?”

“Hmm must be because of the shirt you’re wearing underneath that hoodie,” he said, feigning innocence.

Oh. He’s the perceptive type. You didn’t think much of his ministrations (other than them being tantalizing). It seemed that he took note of every detail about you. At this point, you were crimson as a tomato.

“Also, because I go there as well,” he snickered.

You smacked his shoulder once more.

“I’ve never seen you before.”

“Different years, probably.”

“Maybe..”

“Also, I’m always stuck at the Mostro Lounge so you can find me there,” he winked.

“Ahhh! Stop doing that!”

“Doing what?”

“Giving me two answers and mixed signals.”

Floyd tilted your head upwards and pecked your lips, holding you as if you were a figure of glass: “What about this is mixed?”

“You were terribly rude before… and you probably just want someone to bed with for the night,” you puffed your cheeks.

How your body was betraying you… Your legs were still wrapped around his waist and the fervor was not going to dissipate anytime soon.

“I’ll have you know that I’ve had my eyes on you for a long time, (y/n).”

He raised your hand and pressed a chaste kiss on each individual knuckle.

Oh god. Your heart couldn’t bear it anymore. The way your name rolled off the tip of his tongue made honey taste like summer– hot, overwhelming, but still something to look forward to.

“Since when?” you exhaled.

“Since your first visit to the Lounge.”

He switched to your other hand, continuing the ritual.

“I’ve only been there once.”

“You were such a cute Shrimpy that I couldn’t forget about you~”

“That can’t be right–”

“You just have to accept it!”

“It doesn’t make up for how you treated me before.”

He placed your hands on his cheek, “Sorry, Shrimpy. The scent you released was too irresistible.”

Instinctively, you sniffed your clothes, “I don’t smell anything.”

“It might be just an eel thing*, then. But just so you know, I’ve been trying to find you for a while now. I’m so happy that I did. You’re mine now, Shrimpy. Your smell is intoxicating,” he cooed, leaning closer to your ear, “It makes me go feral~”

You squealed at his sudden remark, unable to regain your composure. Your words melted into gibberish and murmurs as you buried your face into his chest once more.

“You’re such a creep,” you whined.

“You don’t mean that~”

“I don’t…”

“We should get going before curfew though. Help me clean up, will ya?”

“Okay.”

Floyd planted a kiss on your forehead, “Thank you, Shrimpy.”

That nickname wasn’t as obnoxious as it was before, huh.

“I’ll reward you once we get to my room,” he snickered over his shoulder as he left for the back room.

Wait– WHAT?!?!?

“H-Hold on-!!”

“Relax, Shrimpy, ’m not gonna do anything to you… not yet, anyway. I’m just sayin’ in case we don’t make it before curfew. Azul needs me for Mostro Lounge tomorrow, he has no choice, but to let me in. If anyone can convince the headmaster, it’s probably him,” he gave you a thumbs up.

“Good to know. But… I’ve been meaning to ask about Mostro Lounge and this café. If you work for Azul then why work here too?”

“He doesn’t pay me. I’m just helping out of obligation.”

“What? How come?”

“He’s my friend?”

“You sound unsure.”

“You made it sound like I’m gullible,” he laughed, stacking the last of the chairs.

“Well? Shall we go, Shrimpy?”

You took his hand without hesitation. This feeling– it was addicting. You only knew him for a less than a day, but it felt right. It felt meant to be... as if you were soulmates.

Bonus:

“Oya? Floyd, what happened to your back? There’s scratches all over it. Are you alright?”

“ s’nothin’, Jade. I just… had a fun night~”

“Please. You and (y/n) were so loud. Please reserve those kinds of activities for somewhere more private– not a dormitory with thin walls,” Azul chided.

His brother’s eyes widened, but he didn’t question it any further. Jade curtly closed his gym locker and headed out towards the field.

Azul followed in suit with a huff.

* Note: Female moray eels release an odor in order to attract males to mate with them

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland imagines #twst imagines #twisted wonderland oneshot #twst oneshot #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #floyd leech x reader #event fic #cafe rose event #mild spice #god help me

433 notes · View notes

weepingvoidpenguin · 4 years

Text

The Gods’ Blessing (Pt. 5)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4,

Summary: In your world, everyone had a soulmate. That’s just how things went. Everyone had some sort of Indicator that their other half was out there, be it telepathy or a red string that connected these two strangers. Yours was one unspoken of, in fact, you’d never heard anyone say that they had the same Indicator as you. And because of this rarity, you longed to meet the person who could gift you with what you lacked, maybe not so much so to be with the person but more so to finally see what others took for granted. Yet, you held onto the hope that one of your best friends was your Meant-To-Be but he has his eyes on another girls and the little green monster slowly engulfs you at the deterioration of your hope.

Warning: Like 1 F-Bomb, angst, reader being reckless

Word Count: 4.3K

Author’s Note: I’m literally so sorry this took so long to come out but I lost motivation to write and randomly got it back and now I know where I want to take this story so I’m dedicating some time to this series again. ALSO I wanted to thank EVERYONE from the bottom of my heart who has asked to be tagged or complimented my writing it means SO MUCH and helps me continue to write. Everyone who has requested to be tagged will be; I’m just dumb and didn’t know I could privately respond to asks and I didn’t want to spam my page with answers so... yeah I know, I’m dumb lol ENJOY

(CAN SOMEONE PLEASE TELL ME HOW TO FIND THE ORIGINAL GIF FOR MY STORY BECAUSE WTF I SPENT LITERALLY 30 MINUTES LOOKING FOR THE RIGHT ONE BUT COULDN’T FIND IT AND I USED THE SAME TAGS AS ALWAYS AND YES THE GIFS ARE STILL THERE SOMEONE HELP PLS AND THANK YOU) (AND ALSO LITERALLY CAN’T ADD A READ MORE LINE BECAUSE I COPY AND PASTE FROM WORD SO IM SORRY TUMBLR IS JUST TRYING ME TODAY)

You let the thunderous knocks at your door rack for nearly five minutes before you trudged out of bed with your blanket still encased around you. You kept your eyes glued to your carpet, watching as your feet slid along the floor on your way to the door. Your hand hovered over the knob as hesitation ceased your actions.

What if it was Peter at your door? Your heart twisted at the thought and you couldn’t stop how your hand shot out and grasped the handle. Damn how your body could betray you.

You noticed how your actions slowly became less your own over the past few days. Naturally, you could sit, lay, stand, eat, drink and etc. on command but whenever the thought of the brunette boy shattered its way through the walls you’d created, your hands flew towards your phone every single time. You had desired Peter, desired for him to reach out to you and clear the air, answer the questions consuming your mind, just talk to you in any way. Maybe his words wouldn’t make you feel better but at least his voice would soothe the storm brewing in your stomach.

You had skipped school the last two days, claiming to have a fever to your mother who, as a doctor, knew better. But she was an understanding woman and gave you the time she suspected you needed to deal with whatever was bothering you. She’d tried to get you to talk but each attempt was met with silence and isolation so she left you be, only occasionally leaving a warm drink on your nightstand.

You hadn’t just isolated yourself from your mother though; you’d completely disregarded the messages you were getting from MJ and Ned. You tried to keep away from your phone, in all honesty. You wanted to disconnect, to just feel what you felt and ride the wave until the waters soothed themselves. But with the amount of times you’d checked your inbox for a new message from Peter or merely went back to read old texts that used to bring a smile to your face, you’d say disconnecting had failed miserably. In fact, every time you checked your phone only made the sinking feeling in your stomach liven with a fresh ache and you’d lay right back down.

Your window remained locked now. For the most part. Some nights, for about an hour or so, you’d unlatch it, idiotically hoping that somehow Peter would be aware of your actions and know that you, in a moment of weakness, wanted to see him again. That your silent invitation had been noticed and he would come running to you. But, of course, it didn’t work like that.

You were released from the deep constraints of your thoughts with another set of rapping on the door. You sighed and brought yourself to look through the peephole only to be met with an eye already glaring through it. You let out a quiet shriek at the expression strewn about MJ’s face and slowly unlocked the door.

She didn’t wait for you to open it though, taking matters into her own hands and flinging the entryway open to storm through and slam shut behind her. You stood frozen, watching as she glowered with her arms crossed over her chest. You two stood in silence like that for a few moments and she continued to stare, waiting for you to give an explanation for your behavior for the past few days.

She knew better than to think you were sick. Even when you were sick you always messaged her back but this mood was something she had yet to experience in all her years of friendship with you.

“So?” She practically snarled and you gulped.

You scanned her up and down. She was entirely on the defense here. Her arms crossed, foot tapping on the ground and the disapproving look of the century plastered on her face all scrambled together to serve you one very pissed off MJ.

She waited for a response, not breaking her composure for even a fraction of a second. The anger radiating off her body was more than you could handle in the moment, especially when it was accompanied with the sorrow encasing your very being.

Her expression softened in the slightest as she studied you, noting how you couldn’t meet her gaze, not that it had been a warm one to begin with but still. Your hair was in shambles and the deep, dark circles under your eyes conveyed more than you were willing to bring yourself to admit. And when you finally looked up at her she took your desperate embrace with ease; all of her anger diminishing as she held you.

“Hey,” She soothed, running her hand up and down your back through the blanket, “what’s going on?”

You looked up at her, only slightly pulling back from the hug, “There’s something I have to tell you,” ~ That first day that you had kicked Peter out of your apartment he didn’t go on patrol that night. He was too distraught. Instead, he trudged home with his head hung low and his thoughts drowning him in regret.

He’d been weak that afternoon. He couldn’t help it. It’d been so long since you two had hung out together alone, aside from the rare occasion last week, and so much had happened within that time.

That first night, when the two of you kissed and the stars had come to life for the first time in his existence, everything in those few moments had been perfect; no, better than perfect. The world had burst to life under your touch and suddenly his years of yearning and longing for you had made sense. The world had been right and just for once. For one goddamn minute.

And then, because of that moment that he hungered to relive again, he’d lost you. Maybe permanently.

How could he have been so stupid? How could he have just given in to the desire pining for your touch? He couldn’t have helped it. The way you looked, the smile gleaming on your face, the way you were straddling and hovering above him; it all called out to him. You called out to him. His eyes traced down from your eyes to your neck and then lower to the bit of exposed cleavage in his face. He blushed in the moment, feeling guilty for letting his mind wander to those treacherous places that caused his imagination to spiral. And, oh, how his thoughts spiraled.

That need to touch you, to hold you, to kiss you, to be with you had made him weak in the moment. But had it really been so wrong to give in? After all, you are his soulmate and if it were okay to touch anyone the way his body had urged him to, why not the person that he was meant for and was meant for him?

No, it hadn’t wrong to give in because from the look that glazed your eyes and elicited your body when you connected, he knew you wanted to give in too. He knew you wanted to be with him just as much as he wanted to be with you.

And that’s why he wanted to go over that day. He had planned to tell you everything. He even had his suit in his backpack to show you but then it all went wrong. He’d prematurely exposed the truth but in a way that made it seem secretive. He hadn’t meant to be secretive; he was just scared.

Plus, he finally had the girl he’d been working to get for the past few months and he had to just throw that all away. At that point, his feeling for Liz were real just miniscule compared to the ones he attempted to drown out for you. Not to mention, Liz liked Peter as he was without the hero complex but (Y/N) liked Spider-Man, a literal superhero.

Maybe that had been the reason that (Y/N) had kicked him out so quickly. Was she disappointed that her mysterious hero had turned out to be none other than Peter Parker? Was being Peter really that bad in her eyes? No, (Y/N) loved Peter . . . platonically.

But Liz . . . Liz liked Peter, not Spider-Man. (Y/N) didn’t want her shy best friend, she wanted her mysterious hero. (Y/N) didn’t like Peter for who he was, only who he presented himself to be. Her feelings were solely based on a hidden character under the red and blue suit. She didn’t want Peter Parker. She couldn’t want Peter Parker. Peter Parker wasn’t enough for her and he never would be.

He shook his head at the thoughts, hating how his conclusion could tug at his chest so fiercely. Nonetheless, he let himself fester on that idea until it became his mentality.

(Y/N) was not interested in Peter. ~ You could hardly communicate everything that had happened over the course of the last few weeks to MJ with all the tears and sobs interrupting the story. She caught onto the gist of it, though. Peter was Spider-Man, Spider-Man was her soulmate, Peter was with Liz, etc.

She let you cry until you fell asleep that night and she stayed with you the next day so she could force you to go to school, even if it was Friday.

Her alarm woke you up the next morning and you groaned as you shoved your pillow over your ear to drown out the sound. MJ rolled around, cutting the alarm off and cuddling closer to you before shoving you out of bed.

“What the hell?” You asked, reaching out for the pillow that was pried from your hold.

MJ held the cushion just out of your reach and dangled it in the air, “Good morning!” She cheerily shouted, very unlike herself.

You groaned in response and shoved the blanket over your head just for that to be ripped away as well. “Get up, you’re coming to school,”

A huff escaped your lips as the sunlight shone even from behind closed eyelids. You wanted to argue and stay home but you would just get hell for it and end up going to school anyway so you used that time of argument to get ready instead. MJ had woken you up early enough to let you shower, as you hadn’t recently, and made breakfast while you got ready.

In the stillness of your room, you observed your reflection in the mirror. Your eyes were still puffy from the crying and there was a slight dry rash from wiping your nose so much but other than that, you looked practically normal. You ran your hands down your body, hating that you put in a little extra effort in your looks to catch Peter’s attention. In the midst of shamefully admiring yourself, you caught a glimpse of the pictures tacked onto the wall behind you. You whirled around and your gaze landed on the brightest of them all. A picture of the four of you sitting in the grass, MJ on one side of you and Peter on the other. You removed the tack from the photo and smiled down at it. The picture had been taken the first time you all hung out together, the same day you’d told MJ about your feelings for Peter only to be met with a knowing look from her. She could read you like a book that woman.

“Hey, breakfast is ready-” MJ burst through the door and cut herself off at the sight of you. “What’s that?”

“Do you remember this photo?” You asked, holding it up for her to see. Her eyes softened and she had a small smile, “I have this same picture in a drawer somewhere,”

“Do you remember what I told you that day?”

MJ looked up at you, her eyebrows furrowed as she waited for an explanation.

“That’s the day I told you that I thought I liked Peter,” She looked down at the photo and handed it back to you, “It’s like . . . since the beginning it’s been him. It’s always been him.” You placed the photo back in its original place, “And now I know why,”

Later that day in the cafeteria, the table had been full of tension. MJ throwing glares at Peter, Peter brushing them off his shoulder, your head crammed into a textbook, Ned trying to break the tension and Liz having no idea what the hell was going on.

“You guys are so cute together,” MJ cheerily spoke up after a while, looking at Peter and Liz’s interlocked fingers.

“Thanks,” Peter stated bluntly, his gaze fixated on MJ.

“I just didn’t think you would end up dating a guy like that, Liz, but now that I’m looking at it, it makes sense,”

“A guy like what?” Liz raised an eyebrow, concerned there was something about Peter that she didn’t know.

“A liar-”

“MJ, can you help me with this equation?” You interjected, hoping she hadn’t heard what MJ said.

“I don’t know why you’d need my help, you’re the best one here at math,” she slyly retorted, not once breaking her eye contact with Peter.

“I’ll help you,” Ned spoke up and the both of you exchanged worried glances. It suddenly dawned on you that Ned probably already knows Peter’s secret; which means, he already knew about you as well.

“Anyway,” Liz spoke up after a few tense moments of silence, “I’m throwing a party tonight at my place, everyone’s invited!”

“And why would we-”

“Sounds fun! We’ll be there!” You spoke up quickly, glaring at MJ to shut her up. She rolled her eyes but sat back in her chair and complied.

You’d kept your head down for most of the lunch period but had to snap your attention up to keep MJ tamed. Your gaze wandered over to the direction you felt a pull coming from and was surprised when you met Peter’s gaze. You were almost frozen, caught in a mixture of crying, panicking and keeping it together. Still, you couldn’t pry your attention from Peter so you dwelled in it instead.

He looked tired. The dark circles under his eyes were more apparent than usual and his hair appeared to lack a bit of life, the curls on his face falling flat rather than their normal bounciness. You let yourself study the man before you and that’s when it happened again.

Instead of his normal physique, an outline of his person took form and the wounds on his body glowed to catch your attention. He had a few cuts and scrapes here and there, some bruises on his shins and forearms, not to mention the busted eyebrow that you’d failed to notice under what you assumed was makeup. You squinted your eyes at this and Peter seemed to catch on to what was happening. He grew uncomfortable under your gaze and forced yourself to retract it, fighting the urge to reach out your hand and place it over the split skin on his face. Not that he’d appreciate it.

You sighed and closed the textbook before shoving it in your bag and standing up seconds before the bell rang. MJ followed suit and walked you to your next class, knowing you usually take the route with Peter and punched your shoulder lightly when it was time for her to go.

“Meet at my locker after school? I need help picking an outfit and we can stop by your place to pick some stuff up,”

MJ nodded in agreement and you turned to enter the classroom but walked into a hastily walking Peter. You reached out your hand to steady yourself and grabbed his forearm which, unfortunately, was not covered in fabric.

The warmth in your fingertips soon sprawled all over your body and you could moan at the ease it brought along with it. The ache in your heart subsided and the strength of the pull towards him tripled until you really were being shoved against him, your chest pressed against his own and his arms wrapped around you as if to keep you there.

You wanted to pull away but the fact that Peter was even holding you right now soothed the agony in your bones and you needed this for just a few seconds more. You let the sensation overtake you, submitting yourself to its enticing comfort and when Peter’s hands gripped the back of your shirt tighter to pull you deeper into him, you let him.

This was right. Being with him was right. How could it not be? How could being with your soulmate be wrong? The two of you were literally made for each other as were all soulmates but there resided something deeper between both of you that caused a very physical gravitational pull to one another. Though you’d heard of instances similar to that, you’d never heard of it being physical, only an emotional pull. And that physical pull somehow forced you two into each other’s arms where you were fighting the urge to give in.

With the little strength that you could muster, you pried yourself from him and you exchanged a worried glance with each other, “Did you-”

“Feel that? Yeah,” he said, bewildered at what just happened.

“So, you didn’t-”

“Pull you? No. And you didn’t-”

“Suddenly forgive you and throw myself into your arms?” You spoke with venom and cocked your head to the side, the little distance between you allowing some of your anger to return. “No,”

Peter wanted to roll his eyes and brush off the comment, he really did but he could see through you. The pain you tried to hide was laid barren for him, he couldn’t miss it if he tried. It shouted for his attention, demanding his explanation and wanting nothing more than to dissipate and leave you at peace. But he couldn’t grant you that. He couldn’t bring himself to beg for you when you didn’t even want him; at least, not the real him.

You finally walked away and took your usual seat in class, forcing your gaze down so you wouldn’t accidentally make eye contact with Peter as he took his place next you. You chuckled at that. ~ Liz’s house buzzed with energy, most of the people already arrived and under some kind of influence. You had to give it to her, she knew how to throw a party. Not that you’d been to very many of them considering MJ was your best friend.

MJ appeared beside you with two cups in her hand and offered you one, “Oh, I figured you were going to chug them down simultaneously,”

“Don’t tempt me.” She laughed and you took a gulp from yours, finishing it off in a few seconds, “Maybe you would like to do that, though,”

You smiled sheepishly, “I’m gonna get another one,”

“Make sure you leave some for everybody else,” she hollered over the music.

You giggled and sauntered over to the table, ignoring the beginnings of a lure coming from your left. You plucked one of the cups up and brought the brim to your lips, letting the liquid burn its way down your throat and rejoined MJ.

“Hey, so I was thinking,” you started, keeping your focus anywhere other than where it wanted to be, “where did you hear that story about the gods and the stars and all that?”

“Huh?” She shouted over the music and despite the volume of the noise, you could still filter out Peter’s voice through it all.

You grabbed MJ’s arm and pulled her towards the door, “Outside!” You shouted and she followed.

Once the fresh breeze hit your face, you took a deep breath in, attempting to clear out any negative emotions. MJ took your hand and led you away from the front of the house where quite a few people were still crowding around and settled on the rooftop. She grabbed a ladder off the floor and held the ladder while you climbed up.

“What were you trying to say?” She asked once you two had gotten comfortable.

“I was asking about where you heard the story about being chosen by the Gods,” you stated, taking a sip from the cup and already feeling a slight warmth in your cheeks. This cup was definitely stronger than the previous one.

She cocked her head a little and raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“You know! About the Gods’ choosing a few special spirits to have this intense love or something,”

“What are you talking about?”

“Like, about my Indicator and the stars and my soulmate,”

Her eyebrow remained raised in your direction.

Now it was your turn to get confused, “The story you told me when we were all at your house watching movies. The day I went on the first date with Brad,”

“Dude, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she admitted, a concerned look on her face.

“Yes, you do! You’re the one that told me that story, how could you not remember it?” you practically yelled. “When I got mad because of Liz and Peter and went to your room, that’s when you told me!”

“I remember you being bothered but I figured you needed a breather so I let you have it,”

Was it MJ that had told you? You scoffed, yes, of course it was. Who else would it be? She was the one that walked into the room and comforted you. “MJ, stop playing,” you scolded.

“(Y/N) . . . are you feeling okay?” she asked and you glared at her in response. “Dude, I swear I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

You shot up from your spot and struggled to find footing so you raised your arms to balance yourself. You had drunk a little more than you thought but managed to steady yourself. MJ held out a hand to you in caution, raising them to catch you.

“Something’s not right,” you said, taking a small step back from your friend. You were certain it was MJ in the room with you, the memory was clear as day.

The reason you had even brought it up in the first place was because you wanted to know where she heard the lore from considering you’d never heard anything like it. You had been ashamed of your Indicator because you’d never come to know of any other person who had the same one as you ever. Not even in the history books. It was just completely unheard of. So, why would MJ know the legend?

“(Y/N), sit down.” MJ ordered, her words concrete.

“No, no, no, no, this doesn’t make sense,” you spoke aloud, your mind trying to understand the events of that night. You took half a step back from MJ as if the added distance would deny her truth. And it was her truth. You could always tell when MJ was lying, years of friendship could attest to that but her words were genuine and her confusion was too.

“Stop moving, (Y/N),” she growled, slowly coming closer to you.

You created the same distance from you as before and she stopped her movements altogether, her eyes glued to the back of your foot. You tried to wrack your brain around it but no matter how you tried to understand it, it just didn’t make sense. How would MJ know the lore for your Indicator when you’d studied extensively to try and find something-anything to make you feel less alone in your path. How had she just randomly come across such information and why hadn’t you asked her right then and there where she heard it from?

“(Y/N)!” You heard your name shouted from behind you and whipped around, the force of the action causing you to tip over the edge of the roof and your heart stopped as you watched MJ jump out to catch you.

The fall was quick but scarier than any rollercoaster you’d been on. It elicited the same sensations but held more finality to it.

“(Y/N)!” MJ screamed from above but you kept your eyes glued to the ground when a figure swung into your line of sight and clung onto you in midair before landing on a patch of grass on the side of the house.

The action had knocked the wind out of you and you struggled to regain your breath, your eyes glued to your feet and how they rested against the ground. MJ flew down the ladder and raced with Ned to get to your side. She hadn’t even reached it before she started yelling at you.

“Are you fucking crazy?” She yelled, kneeling by your side and encasing your face in her hands, failing to draw your attention to her.

Your body shook uncontrollably, the fear from before just now catching up to you. But it wasn’t the fear from nearly dying. It was from whoever the hell you spoke to in MJ’s house.

“Can’t you see she’s scared?” Peter yelled at MJ and you winced. You’d never heard Peter yell like that before.

Peter picked you up and placed you in his lap, his hands attempted to center you in on him but you merely looked through him. You were out of it and you couldn’t bring yourself to come back to the present.

“(Y/N),” Peter whispered, worry and fear laced in his tone, “Are you okay?” It took a minute of letting the fear make its course through you before you zeroed in on Peter’s expression. It was the warmth coming from his hands that brought you back.

“Who was she?”

Tag List: @the-ducks-umbrella @free-pool-trash @wherewecomealive @eridanuswave @watson-emma @imjuliabtw @powerstrangerdacre @chess-anon @le-yona @dear-selena @becausewelie @myr5heart @michaels-endtime @lastupidebichette @yetmeema @bisexualfangirlsblog @akabaneyuriko @allthings-sandy @foreverpark @courtmarie2016 @maya-t-13 @copxland04 @lostinwonderland314 @theolwebshooter @alainabooks143 @dark-night-sky-99 @shameless-dani @memequeend @chewymoustachio @thewayilookatbacon @rvgrsbrns @jaimewho @sexysamsungl @stitchers-in-stitches @spideyyeet @mira-9-rose @racewife2004 @eternallyanxiousandstressed @lost-xim @notavintagecliche @peteysbaby @awkwardnesshabitat @lushalternative @deans-1967sbaby @phrogtheguitarist @xwackk @theatergeek2000 @elenatalia @littlechillies @l-a-a-e @a—1—1—3 @herondalism @jxhnnysbxby @jessyballet @astralnyx @the-nonsenseblog @ornella0910 @parkeret @utterlyconfused-tm @oh-whatabeautiful-parker @fishswimbetterunderwater @reysclana @notavintagecliche @homosexualjohnwayne @procrastinatingmurder @delicately-important-trash @honeybutterparker @chelsxxsworld @herstolenheart @petalduck @utopiamiroh @roses-raindrops-and-writing @qxeen-of-hearts @beansat3am @buckysjuicyplums @champagnesugamama @just-a-littlebit-of-everything @primsa-the-pretend-avenger @used-avocado @martinafigoli @ramblingsnfandom @zofty15 @colorfulartbywriters @keitkeat

461 notes · View notes

pixielix · 4 years

Text

୭̥⋆*｡ tutor!au seungmin

pairing: crush!seungmin + gn!reader genre: fluff word count: 1.1k warnings: none

seungmin is, in many ways, the best tutor on campus

he teaches logically by-the-book but knows when to stop and explain something with a little more care

he can sense when you’re discouraged by the slightest falter in your voice

he says he tutors as a way of revising his own knowledge, but you can hardly imagine he’d need anymore help to bolster an already perfect grade average

but despite his ability to teach and your efforts to learn, you always manage to lose focus from the moment he’s next to you

"okay last one - which persian king was defeated by greek forces at the battle of marathon?”

“ummmm that's....”

“d-d.....” seungmin suggests

“......darius?”

“correct, nicely done” he places the question cards on the desk and mimes a soft round of applause, wary of his roommate whose snoring echoes through the thin dormitory walls

“i dont think it counts if you’re giving hints” you chuckle weakly

“im sure you would’ve gotten it anyway" he smiles with eyes akin to little stars and swirling hot cocoa

you did know the answer deep down; hidden somewhere under the layer of dizzying fog that seemed to fester every time your eyes met his

you could hide it a little more easily in your sessions at the library

disguising an all-encompassing attraction as nervousness about upcoming exams

silencing heart palpitations with the reality that he’s just doing you a small kindness, as he would for any other struggling classmate

but a sudden change of scenery from the bustling public college library to the narrow confines of a dorm room was surely enough to break you

“i stopped by the cornerstone earlier and got us some drinks” seungmin hums, slipping a can of grape soda into your hands

“this is my favourite brand” you smile happily down at the drink

“yeah i thought it might be, i've seen you bring it to class a couple times”

you’re surprised that he’d noticed

especially since you’d only ever seen him already engrossed in his notes by the time you arrived to your shared lectures and settled at your desk behind him

he’d always seemed like he was in his own peaceful bubble despite being sandwiched between changbin and jisung’s desks, infamously the two loudest juniors on campus

the sight of him getting caught in the crossfire of their quarrels and naturally assuming the mediator role quickly became your favourite part of professor brungs’ ancient greek history lectures

you could easily assume he’d be the cold, lone-wolf genius type if it weren’t for those subtle bursts of playfulness

he looks even more innocent out of his typical sweater and jeans combination, dressed comfortably in a white tee and checkered navy pyjama pants

“to acing our finals” he grins, extending his can towards yours

“to passing my finals” you correct him, earning a laugh as he jokingly shook his head

“cheers”

clink

circular frames slightly magnify the way his eyes widen when the soda starts to froth and overflow from the cans

the liquid spills onto your shirt - as if you didn’t need another reason to be blushing

“oh sh- give me one sec” seungmin scrambles into the bathroom and returns offering two handfuls of scrunched tissue paper

“thanks, sorry for making a mess”

“its okay, might’ve been my fault for shaking your can before giving it to you...” he smirks playfully, trying to get a reaction

you glare at him before landing a soft punch to his shoulder, “tch- quit messing with me”

even in your most frazzled moments, he knew how to make you laugh

“change into this” he holds out a bright yellow hoodie, “bathroom’s down the hall on your left”

“no its-”

“you’ll catch a cold in wet clothes" he drops the hoodie into your hands, “what kind of tutor gets their students sick on the night before an exam?”

and that’s how you end up in kim seungmin’s dorm room wearing kim seungmin’s favourite hoodie

the faint scent of espresso and seungmin’s cologne lingers on the fabric as you tiptoe back towards his room against creaking wooden floorboards

seungmin’s nose is scrunched up in a silent yawn as he wraps a blanket around his shoulders like a cape

he’s sitting against the headboard with his legs crossed and his head falling and rising in a tired trance

you hover around the doorframe, hesitant to disturb the adorable moment

“i- i better head off, its pretty late”

he snaps upright and adjusts his crooked glasses

for a second his lips curl into a smile seeing the oversized hoodie sleeves hang loosely from your sides, but he shakes it away

“yeah i guess it’d be weird for you to stay here, huh?” he scratches the back of his neck with a light chuckle

“just a little” you assume the question is a joke until you see his shoulders fall a little

was he- no. don't be daft, of course he’s just kidding

he walks you out to the front of the building

“you’re sure you’re okay getting home from here?”

“yeah my dorm’s just a few blocks down”

silence hangs in the air for a few seconds as you grip your notebook closer to your chest, feeling your heartbeat in your throat

“um- i’ll give you back your hoodie after the exam”

“keep it. think of it as a congratulatory gift for when you pass with flying colours”

you’re overflowing with gratitude but struggle to find the words to express it, settling with a simple but sincere “thank you, min”

“you’ve got this” his open palm calls for a high five

as your hands meet his fingers curl gently to intertwine with yours

and he just holds your hand there, blinking softly as he waits for you to pull away

but you don’t

he untangles his fingers from yours to trace them up the length of your sleeve and bring your head to his shoulder, each move slow and delicate like a first waltz

and he just holds you in a warm embrace, waiting for you to pull away

but you don’t

instead you inch closer into the hug and slide your arms around his waist, feeling your heartbeat settle into a tranquil rhythm

“i might... have a crush on you” you whisper against his neck

“might?” he teases

“i definitely have a crush on you” you inch back from the hug to watch him cautiously, waiting for a response, “do you.... feel the same?”

“of course i do,” he presses his forehead to yours, “maybe i should tutor you on taking hints”

your laughs harmonise and echo across the empty street as he gently sways with you from side-to-side

he tugs your arm towards the dorm, “let’s go back inside, it’s cold”

“what, so now you’re kidnapping me?”

“well.... i can’t just let you run off with my favourite hoodie”

m.list

#i think abt The Look seungmin gives in the dingo drama vid everyday #ib: that #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagine #skz scenarios #skz imagines #seungmin fluff #stray kids fluff #seungmin scenarios #seungmin x reader #m; au

77 notes · View notes

orangefantazero · 3 years

Text

Bro Code

I’m going to start posting some of my writing, so let me know what you guys think. This is just a little something that I had in my head and I needed to get it out lol.

Tw: it involves nipple twisting, but is SFW? Also. cussing. lol.

kiribaku if you squint. This is silly, written for giggles

~~~

It was a hot, humid, summer evening. The students of U.A had a rough training earlier that day, and they were doing what they could to relax and cool off. Sero was lazing in his hammock, reading his manga, wearing just his gym shorts, with his shaggy black hair pushed back by a thin headband. He had the door to his room open, as well as the one that led to his balcony, a box fan doing its thing in the corner of the room. Every few minutes, a small breeze would make its way in from the cherry-colored sunset sky, rustling his plants and swaying the hammock.

He was playing soft, bassy music on his speakers, still able to hear his classmates out in the hall. It was a Friday, which meant everyone was congregating outside of their rooms, shooting the shit and just being dumb boys. A lot of them had their own doors open like Sero, just in case someone wanted to come by and say hello. Every now and then he heard laughter, paired with screams and thudding bare feet on hardwood floors. He smiled to himself thinking about his goofy friends, just as a knock sounded on his open door. He peeked over the edge of his hammock to find one, freshly showered, Shoto Todoroki.

“Hey ‘Roki! What's up man?” Fully sitting up, Sero dangled his long legs over the edge of the hammock and gave his neighbor a bright smile. Todoroki quirked the corner of his lips up into some semblance of a smile and walked over the threshold into Sero’s room. He ran a hand through his wet, duo-colored hair, pushing it out of his face as he took a seat at the desk.

“How did you fair on the training grounds today Sero?” The quiet boy asked, genuinely curious.

“Ahhh I did alright. I was trying to focus on my speed and getting out of the way of attacks, and I was doing really well! Until someone shot me out of the air with an ice wall.” He gave Todoroki a look of mock anger. “Seriously, you have got to stop doing that to me, dude.” Todoroki huffed in amusement through his nose.

“Well, maybe you should be faster so that someone won’t get you next time.” Todoroki closed his eyes and folded his hands behind his head, soft smile dancing on his lips. Sero loved how comfortable the boy seemed in his presence. He was glad that they were able to become friends in the short time they’ve spent together at U.A.

“Ohh hooo, someone is getting a little cocky huh?” Sero teased as he stood, taking his manga over to his book shelf and putting it back in its respectful place. Just as Todoroki started to defend himself, a scream sounded through the hall, startling the two. They both looked over to Sero’s open doorway, listening as footsteps thundered towards them. A few seconds later, Kaminari came skirting into the room, slamming the door behind him and pressing his back against it. He was breathing heavily, and had a look of fear in his eyes.

“Denks? You alri-”

Knocks came raining down on Sero’s door on the other side of Kaminari’s back. The electric blonde let out a yelp and scrambled behind him to find the lock, twisting it so hard Sero thought it would come off the door.

“Kaminari, what did you do?” Todoroki deadpanned from his still seated position at the desk. Sero put his hands on his hips and walked over. “Yeah man, what the hell is going on. I’d like to keep my door, who the fuck is that?”

“K-Kirishi- AHH" Kaminari screamed as more pounding came from the other side of the door.

“Kirishima? What could you have possibly done to make Eijirou “im basically a golden retriever” Kirishima this upset?” Sero asked, incredulously.

“I uh...zappedhisnipple”

“...you zapped...his nipple?” Todoroki quirked an eyebrow at Kaminari, obviously confused, as always. Sero let out an exasperated groan and ran a hand down his face. Now it made sense, and he knew what he had to do. Both of the others watched him as he walked over to the door, that was still shaking on its hinges with the force of Kirishima’s knocks. “Move, Denki.” He said as he looked down into terrified, golden eyes.

“Aw man, come on! I was just playing around! I- I didn’t mean to get him right on the nipple!” Kaminari seemed to be pleading for his life. He had the hem of his tshirt in his hands, and he was wringing it so hard, it looked like he was going to rip the shirt in two. Sero nodded his head silently towards the other side of the room, watching as Kaminari went, head lowered in defeat. Once the blonde had stepped a few paces and turned around, Sero spoke up.

“Denki Kaminari, you broke a bro code. You know we don’t mess with each other's nipples.” Sero said sternly. He looked over at Todoroki who looked just as confused as ever. Kaminari buried his face in his hands, whining like a kicked puppy.

“Just do it man, let’s get this fucking over with.”

“I’m sorry, I hate to do this. But you know I have to.” Sero put his hand on the doorhandle, waiting a few moments and giving Kaminari time to gather his nerves. The banging on the door had silenced, but he knew Kirishima didn’t give up that easily and was probably waiting patiently out in the hall...like the golden retriever he was. With a sigh, he turned the door handle and quickly yanked it open.

“KAMINARIIIII”

“KIRI IM SO SORRY I-”

Kaminari never got the chance to finish his sentence, before Kirishima was barreling into the room, slapping his bare chest into Kaminari and tackling him to the ground. They both landed hard with a loud OOF, as Kirishima started scrambling for the bottom of Kaminari’s shirt. The blonde was slapping his friend's hands away while trying to cover his torso at the same time. Sero looked on with amusement, spurring them on while the two wrestled on his floor.

“Get him Kiri! Tickle him, he’ll move his hands!”

“What is even going on right now?” Sero looked over to Todoroki who was staring in bewilderment. He had forgotten that the quiet boy was still there, and figured he deserved an explanation to what was happening.

“Since Denki broke a Bro code, Kirishima gets to deal it back. It's the law of the bro land.” He closed his eyes and placed a hand on his chest, like he was pledging to a bro flag. Todoroki just looked between Sero and the wrestling match that was continuing on the floor....still confused.

“HA Beat his scrawny ass, Red!” Both Sero and Todoroki turned to the doorway to find none other than Bakugou, pumping a fist into the air...with some of the other floor occupants behind him. Shoji had one of his tentacle eyes peeking around the doorway while Ojirou, Sato, and Tokoyami watched as Kaminari let out a shriek.

“Bakugou, shut the hell up! AHH- don't just stand th- Kiri nO don’t just stand there, get him off me!”

“Absolutely not, Denks! This is the only way, and you know it!” Sero said with a sadistic smile, crossing his arms over his chest and chuckling at Bakugou who now stood next to him wearing the same expression.

Kirishima took the moment of distraction and used it to his benefit. He was growing impatient; he wanted his revenge and he wanted it now. He straddled Kaminari’s thighs, cutting off his mobility and holding him still. Activating his quirk, the tiniest bit, he hardened his hands, grabbed the center of Kaminari’s shirt and pulled. The shirt gave way easily in the red heads hands, tearing in two like it was a tissue. He grinned as Kaminari watched on in horror. Sending away his hardened skin, he grabbed both of Kaminari’s slim wrists in one big hand, holding them above the blonde’s head, effectively pinning him down. Kaminari looked up at him with wide eyes before he opened his mouth.

“Oh....Hey there~” He gave Kirishima a flirty grin and a wink. Kirishima rolled his eyes, giving the hand around the blonde’s wrist a good squeeze, earning a yelp from the boy beneath him. Sero was vibrating with how hard he was trying to stifle his laughter, tears stinging the corners of his eyes. “H-hey do you think ohmygod WHEW, do you think we should uh ahem step in?” He asked Bakugou as he clutched his middle. Bakugou was in no better state.

“Absolutely the ffffuck not! I don’t know if I should fucking *cough* laugh or be turned on.” He said behind his hand. That absolutely did it for Sero, causing him to land on his ass on the floor in a fit of hearty laughs and giggles. Everyone’s attention turned to the sound of Kirishima’s voice as he spoke.

“Denki, I really hate to do this to you man, but you brought it on yourself.” He watched as Kaminari let out a dejected sigh, and gave a very fake, very dramatic, sniffle.

“I-I know. But maybe, you can find it in your very manly heart, to give me a second cha-”

“Absolutely the fuck not”

“Yeah I didn’t think so.”

“You electrocuted my nipple.”

“You didn’t like it?”

“No”

“Huh, I mean I’ve tried it, it’s not THAT bad-”

“Kami shut up”

With those last words, Kirishima shot both his hands to Kaminari’s nipples, grabbing them and giving one good twist. At the sound of Kaminari’s shriek everyone, including Kirishima, threw back their heads in laughter. Once he was satisfied, Kirishima stood, holding out a hand to his friend. Kaminari took it and was pulled into a tight bear hug by the red head. “I love you man, and I'm sorry I had to do it. But I swear to god if it happens again-”

“IT WON’T it won’t, I promise.” The blonde brought his hands to his pecs, rubbing softly. “I learned my lesson” He said with an audible gulp.

The boys dissolved into quiet giggles. Sero took a seat back on his hammock, feeling the breeze from the now dark sky hit the back of his neck. He looked around at all of them, talking amongst themselves, giving Kaminari pats on the back, heading out to continue what they were doing before.

Even though they were absolutely ridiculous, he loved his friends.

#hanta sero #kaminari denki #todoroki shoto #bakugou katsuki #kirishima eijirou #satorugojo #ojiro mashirao #tokoyami fumikage #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #my writing #my work #boys just actually being boys #bro code

10 notes · View notes

oboevallis · 3 years

Note

hello can you do one of: Amelia and Link have a big fight so Amelia goes to sleep at Merediths with the baby for a while but they end up fixing things with Link after one or two weeks

leaving home

thank you so much for the prompt!!! im not sure if this makes any sense so im sorry about that, i hope everyone is doing well and staying safe

Link quietly opened the door to their bedroom, finding his girlfriend fast asleep, their son in his crib right next to her. He smiled and kicked off his shoes, too exhausted to change into his pajamas, and wrapped his arm around his girlfriend.

“Get off of me.” Amelia snapped pushing his arm off of her.

“Jeez, sorry.” Link said, slightly offended by his girlfriend. His department was a mess at the hospital and he had to go in to help things run smoothly, and Amelia was obviously upset about it but when confronted she insisted she stay home until after her maternity leave was up.

Link flipped onto his back and looked up at the ceiling. Before and during his girlfriends pregnancy she had loved to be touched non-sexually and sexually, but since their sons birth she’d be pissed if he got anywhere near him. At this rate he was surprised they were sleeping in the same bed.

“Why are we even sleeping in the same bed?” Link asked turning to face his girlfriend.

“Wow. That’s all you can think about. All you can think about is sex.”

“No!” Link defended quickly, he was worried for his girlfriend this was nothing like her. “That’s not it! I’m worried about you, your love language is physical affection. And since Scout’s been born I’ve barely touched you.”

“Just let me sleep.”

“Maybe you should go back to work.” Link suggested he wanted to try and work this out with her.

“I don’t want to go back to work.” She bit back at him, now fully awake.

“You obviously do.”

“No I don’t!” Amelia said this too loudly causing their son to start crying. “Now you’ve woken the baby up!”

“I’m not the one yelling.” Link defended himself.

“We were both peacefully sleeping before you came in here.” Amelia sighed standing up, and instead of picking up their son she walked into the closet.

“What are you doing?” Link asked as he sat up to tend to the crying baby.

Amelia threw her duffel bag onto the edge of the bed and threw her clothes aggressively into it.

“Babe, come on. What are you doing.”

“I��m leaving I can’t take this.” Amelia zipped up the bag quickly and took the baby out of his arms.

“You can’t take the baby. He’s ours.”

“Watch me.”

“Where are you going?”

“None of your business.” Amelia slammed the door behind her. Link sighed and laid back against the bed. He assumed she was just going to her sisters. He had no idea why she was acting like this, it was totally unlike her.

______________________________________

“Is it okay if we stay here?” Amelia asked, a groggy Meredith who opened the door.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, absolutely great. Picture freaking perfect.” Meredith stepped aside to let the tired mom in with the sleeping baby.

“Zola’s occupied your room though.”

“I don’t care I’ll sleep on the couch.” Amelia sighed as she set the car seat down and put together her sons portable crib in the living room.

“Did you have a fight with Link?” Meredith asked sitting on the edge of the couch as her sister placed the baby in his crib so he could get some sleep.

“I don’t know.” Amelia confessed standing up to grab a blanket from the linen closet.

“You don’t know if you had a fight?” Meredith chuckled.

“I don’t know anything.” Amelia said laying down on the couch and draping the blanket over herself. “I’m too exhausted I just want to sleep.”

“Okay.” The general surgeon got up from the couch, shut off the lights down stairs and made her way back to her room. Worried for her sister.

______________________________________

“Is Amelia at your place?” Link asked breathlessly as he caught up to Meredith in the parking lot.

“Yes she is. What the hell happened for her to need to come to my place at three in the morning?” Meredith asked crossing her arms.

“I don’t really know she just got so mad and left with the baby. Is she okay?”

“For the most part, I mean she seemed upset, not the worst I’ve seen her though.” Link sighed in relief. “Why are you even at the hospital, your on paternity leave.”

“I’ve just gotta do some paperwork and post ops and stuff. My service is a mess.” Link waved to her before walking into the hospital.

________________________________________

“Have you spoken to Link?” Maggie asked the neurosurgeon as she fed her son.

“A little bit, he knows the baby’s okay.” Amelia smiled sadly whilst stroking her sons cheek.

“Have you two talked? Like about what happened?” As much as she loved her sister she had been there for three days and couldn’t imagine the couch was comfortable for her.

“No.” Amelia sighed as she adjusted her son to ensure he was eating. “The problem is he doesn’t see what he’s done wrong.”

“And what is it that he’s done wrong?” Maggie asked cautiously, she heard Link’s side of how the night played out and it seemed that she just wanted personal space which she totally understood but there was obviously more to the story.

“Ugh.” Amelia rolled her eyes, annoyed no one realized what was wrong. “My department is covered, I’ve got Tom and Dr Metta on it. Before I went on maternity leave I had everything in order. Link just put it all on Nico and then he accepted another job, so the ortho department is scrambling so he has to go in to keep things in order.”

“He said you were okay with him going back to work.”

“It wouldn’t of been an issue if he had made sure his department was in order. The only reason he’s back at work is because he didn’t make sure everything was in order before he left. The deal was to take maternity leave together to take care of Scout.”

“Have you told him this?” Maggie asked sitting down next to her at the kitchens table.

“No he should realize! I kept telling him to make sure his department was handled before the baby was born and he didn’t!”

“Do you want to go back to work?”

“I mean obviously I miss work, but I want to finish my maternity leave. To make sure Scout’s okay and adjusted.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Wait until he apologizes.”

“I don’t think he realizes he did anything wrong.”

“Well he should realize.”

“You need to talk to him about this.”

“I know.” Amelia sighed, suddenly feeling embarrassed about how stubborn she had been.

The doorbell then rang and Maggie went to answer it. She made her way to the door, opening it to find a concerned Link.

“Amelia!” The ortho surgeon called out as he walked into the house and finding her and their son in the kitchen. “I think I know what I did wrong.”

“You do?” Amelia asked relieved.

“I was talking to a patient and she was talking about when she was breastfeeding her daughter and by the end of the day her personal space bubble was burst. So I’m sorry for bursting your personal space bubble. Scout’s all over you all day, so by the time it’s night time you probably just want to be alone.”

“No that’s not what the issue is, but that does explain a lot.” Amelia admitted, she hadn’t realized that’s what her issue could be regarding people touching her at the moment. “Regardless if you honestly can’t see the issue than there’s nothing to talk about.”

“Just tell me what I did wrong, and I’ll fix it!” Link begged, he hated that he had hurt her unknowingly.

“You’ve been irresponsible.” Amelia admitted as she burped her son.

“Okay.” Link sighed in relief, and sat down across from her at the kitchen table. “How have I been irresponsible?”

“I vividly remember constantly reminding you to make sure that your service was covered and in order before Scout was born, remember that?”

“Yeah, but-“

“No, there’s no but Link. It should’ve been done so we could both be with Scout that was the deal. We’re parents now we have to make sure that everything is organized and in order so we can make sure Scouts needs are met first.”

“I’m sorry, I really am. I just wasn’t expecting Nico to leave.”

“You recommended him for the job!”

“Okay, that’s true but I thought he was going to stay until our maternity leave was up.”

“Okay, but even so leaving a fellow alone with a whole service? It’s a lot of work. I left my service to Tom and gave Dr Metta the cases that needed consulting. I made sure everything was an easy transition for them.”

“Your right. Your totally right.” Link dipped his head in embarrassment.

“I know I’m right.” Amelia smirked.

“Okay I’ll talk to Dr Bailey and distribute the rest of my cases to the other attendings.”

“Okay.” Amelia smiled. “It’s a little late since your picking up the pieces of your department. I just want you to make sure things are in order for our son, you know?”

“I get it. I’m really sorry again, next time I do something stupid tell me okay?”

“Next time listen to me.” Amelia smirked.

“Now can I hold my son. I haven’t seen him in three days.” Link held his arms out for his son.

“Yeah here you go.” Amelia smiled looking at her son and boyfriend together.

#amelia shepherd #amelink #atticus lincoln #baby amelink #greys anatomy #greysanatomy #scout lincoln #greys fanfic #greys anatomy fanfic

14 notes · View notes

29-pieces · 4 years

Text

Whumptober day 24 - The Musketeers

Day 24: Blindfolded Fandom/Setting - BBC’s The Musketeers, early S1 before d’Artagnan is commissioned Read on AO3 Read on FF.net

~*~

"Filthy cowards!" d'Artagnan raged, squirming with all his might in an attempt to get back up on his feet. The thick rope that had been wound around his middle kept his arms trapped down at his sides, preventing him from drawing a weapon or throwing any punches. It also made it harder to keep his balance. Between that disadvantage and the blindfold wrapped over his eyes to keep him from seeing which direction the next attack would be coming from, d'Artagnan had no opportunity to defend himself.

The red guards who had waylaid him all seemed to find this terribly entertaining. Their jeers and taunts circled the unfortunate recruit, as did a heavy kick every time he tried to clamber back up.

D'Artagnan gasped as another blow came out of nowhere, driving the wind from his body and leaving him to double up and wheeze for precious oxygen. The insults levied at him fell on deaf ears. As soon as he got free of this, he thought with fury, he was going to beat each and every one of them into the ground, single-handedly.

"Shouldn't have thrown in your lot with that Musketeer rubbish," one of the guards snickered. The statement was followed by a hand fisting in his hair, pulling him halfway up off the ground. "Everyone knows they're sorry excuses for soldiers."

D'Artagnan felt blood dripping from his nose over his lip as he bared his teeth and snarled blindly back, "One of them is worth ten of you!"

His loyal declaration was paid for with a punch to the cheek. What was one more bruise to add to the myriad he was rapidly accumulating? Reckless and outraged, the Gascon added, "None of you would dare face one of them one on one! You aren't fit to even speak of them!"

More blows rained down on him and he couldn't see to brace himself. Pure stubbornness (and the fact that they probably couldn't hear him anyway over the shouting and jeering) was all that kept him from any audible sounds of pain. For crying out loud, he wasn't even a musketeer! ...Yet! But when he was, oh, he would make them pay for this...

"One of 'em is worth ten of us, didya hear that, lads?" one of them asked with a loud guffaw. "Well, there are ten of us, aren't there? An' one of you. Which means... you might want to recalculate that, little pig farmer."

"You'd think all his time wrestling pigs would have made him better at this," another hooted.

D'Artagnan's blood surged hot at the insult, and he snapped back, "You're saying you're no better than pigs, then?"

A beat of silence followed; he could just imagine their collective brains trying to work through the statement, which eventually one of them did. An angry shout preceded more kicks and punches that d'Artagnan couldn't evade, try as he might to anticipate the next shot. Surely they would tire of this soon, he thought frantically. Despite the Red Guards' ongoing rivalry with the Musketeers, they couldn't actually kill him... could they?

"Wait, I know what'll make him squeal," one of the men suddenly called. "Where's Bruno?"

D'Artagnan had no idea who Bruno was, but the excited agreement from the others left him with no doubt he wasn't going to enjoy finding out. Multiple pairs of hands grabbed him by the arms, hauling him up to his feet and dragging the blindfolded recruit along. He struggled and shouted, doing his best to wriggle free of the rope around his middle, but they held him firm. Somewhere nearby, he heard a gate or door being opened, then he was pushed forward. Tripping on the cobblestone, d'Artagnan ended up sprawled on the ground again, only to freeze at the sound of throaty, furious barking.

"Shit," he hissed under his breath, trying to scramble back from the newest threat, knowing that he had no chance at fighting off a dog without the use of his hands. "Bastards!"

"Bruno, you hungry?" one of the guards closest to him asked. Footsteps retreated, leaving d'Artagnan alone.

Bruno, and he sounded huge, started barking and snarling even louder, sounding desperate to get at d'Artagnan's throat.

Heart pounding in his chest, d'Artagnan said his mental goodbyes to anyone who had ever known him.

"Get 'im, Bruno!"

D'Artagnan felt something huge barreling forward, heard the sound of heavy paws and enraged growling; he curled up to make as small a target as possible and finally gasped in fear.

Having finally achieved the reaction they'd been hoping for, the red guards dissolved into laughter.

.o.O.o.

Athos wasn't sure what he'd been expecting. Since d'Artagnan's first, rather memorable moment barging into their lives, he'd proven himself something of a magnet for trouble. Athos recognized it; he had two other brothers who were just as bad. What he was not expecting was for the Red Guard to have gotten themselves involved with the newest recruit.

Though, he was quite sure it would have taken nothing more than a snide comment about the musketeers in general, or one of the three Inseparables in particular, and d'Artagnan would have been trying to duel the entire complement of Red Guard. Athos shook his head in spite of the silent affection. Loyalty was commendable. Perhaps once they taught him to temper it somewhat...

In any case, even Athos had not been expecting a full squad of red guards to have waylaid the boy. Cowardice was one thing, but surely this was beneath even them. Coolly, the swordsman drew a pistol and fired it into the air. It worked to make all of the guards duck and spin around in fright, though it had also made d'Artagnan flinch violently from his spot on the ground. Not what he'd been going for.

"Restrain that brute," he ordered calmly, nodding to the dog they'd been using to taunt d'Artagnan. The beast was still wearing a collar and lead; he suspected they hadn't been planning to actually let the animal attack d'Artagnan, only wanting to get a frightened reaction from him.

"Athos?" d'Artagnan asked shakily. "Is that you?"

"Mm," Athos assented, directing his coldest glare at the Red Guard lieutenant, the one who should have been above this childish game. "Porthos."

"You lot," Porthos growled in disdain, dismounting from his horse and storming over towards d'Artagnan with his dagger in hand. The red guards scurried to get out of his way. "Pathetic, that's what you all are."

"The next time you get bored, we'd thank you to find your entertainment elsewhere," Aramis added flippantly, his own pistol idly resting on his leg but pointed right at their attack dog in case any of them had the bright idea to loose the beast after all. "And leave our recruits alone."

Athos watched as Porthos cut d'Artagnan free and pulled the blindfold away. The lad was quick to jump to his feet, and he was a mess of bruises, but Athos was pleased to see he appeared only furious and not scared. Good. It wouldn't do to let the bullies know they'd obviously gotten to him. He was also glad to see Porthos merely offering d'Artagnan a hand back up without fussing over him too much, none of them wanting to give the guards the impression that d'Artagnan needed coddling or protection. Lifting his chin, Athos turned his attention back to the lieutenant.

"Although," he went on. "If you're so anxious to prove yourselves against a musketeer, any one of you may challenge me. Right here. Right now. Any takers?"

His eyes slid from one to the next, daring each and every one of them to try their luck against a musketeer who was ready and able to fight back. To nobody's surprise, each of the guards looked away as his eyes settled on them. By now, Porthos was back on his horse and given d'Artagnan a lift up behind him. Athos nodded in satisfaction and glowered around once more, just to make sure the message had sunk in.

"The captain will hear of this," he growled, before wheeling his horse around and charging out of the Red Guards' courtyard.

He led the way back to the Musketeer garrison at the same clipped pace, but immediately swung down from his horse to grab d'Artagnan as soon as he dismounted from behind Porthos. Without a word, he took the lad's chin in his hand, turning his face this way and that to see what damage had been done.

"'M alright," d'Artagnan assured him, wincing and bruised, but as fierce as ever. "Next time I see one of their sniveling faces, I'm going to-"

"Whoa there," Aramis chuckled. He stepped over to the recruit, draping a casual arm around his shoulders. From his unconcerned grin, only one of his close friends would realize he was getting in place to grab d'Artagnan if he collapsed. "Don't get me wrong, I do love the idea of those tontos getting what they richly deserve."

"An' the captain would feel the same," Porthos said with a smirk, only barely masking the vengeful ire Athos knew he felt at their recruit being picked on. "But then he'd have to reprimand us..."

"And then you're mucking stables..."

"And most importantly, there's no sense giving the Cardinal reason to convince the King not to give you the commission you deserve," Athos finished for them. From his assessment, the lad had come to no real harm, nothing worse than some bad bruises and injured pride. "Now go see Serge. We had him save some supper for you when you weren't back in time."

Clearly still raring for a fight and unsatisfied at the lack of vengeance, d'Artagnan nevertheless nodded and headed for the mess. Athos watched him go, rubbing his chin broodingly.

Aramis crossed his arms and smirked. "There's some fire in that one."

"He's gonna make a great musketeer," agreed Porthos. "If he can stay outta trouble long enough."

Yes, Athos mused with a silent nod. Yes, he was quite sure d'Artagnan was headed for greatness. And they would be behind him every step of the way.

#whumptober2020 #no.24 #blindfolded #the musketeers #bbc musketeers #fanfiction #d'artagnan whump #protective musketeers #red guard vs musketeer rivalry

12 notes · View notes

thebluenebula · 4 years

Text

The 2nd part to my New Bat story which I am totally most likely going to keep writing for the forseeable future.

Masterlist

Day 1

Day 3

A New Bat: Day 2

When I woke up, the sun was shining through the window. I sat up on the edge of my bed and checked my phone. The screen displayed the time, 11:23, and a text from an unkown number.

"Hey Ash, it's Dick. I got your number off B. Whenever you wake up you can head down to the kitchen and Alfred will make whatever you want, it should be quiet as Alfred generally keeps us out of the kitchen."

I saved the number, got dressed, then headed out into the hall. I couldn't see anyone but I could hear a voice in a nearby room. I quickly navigated to the stairs and headed down.

Once I got to the first floor I managed to find my way to the kitchen without running into anybody. I knocked as I opened the door.

"Hello, Miss Ashleigh. May I interest you in some scrambled eggs?"

"Hi Alfred, yeah if you wouldn't mind." I glances around the kitchen to see if anyone else was in here but it was just me and Alfred.

"Of course not, Miss Ashleigh, it's why I'm paid to be here."

I giggled. I could hear the faint whispers of an argument happening somewhere else in the manor. "I would have imagined a family that fights crime dressed as bats at night would sleep during the day."

Alfred grabbed a nearby pan. "If I only I were that lucky."

"Were you a chef before working here? The dinner yesterday was amazing."

"No, but when you been working as a butler as long as I have you are bound to acquire a few skills."

I nodded. "Makes sense."

Alfred handed a plate of eggs to me. "Indeed, Miss Ashleigh. Master Bruce has asked me to inform you that he will be attending a Wayne Enterprise meeting for a large portion of today. It was unavoidable I'm afraid."

I swallowed the piece of egg I was chewing. "Oh, do you know when he will be back?"

"He should be back sometime this evening."

Alfred went over to the sink and began washing the dishes. "Have you met any of the other children?"

"I met Jason last night." I waved my fork around. "He seems... brash. Is brash the right word? What does brash even mean?"

"While Master Jason may seem brash, as you put it, at first when you get to know him... well he will still seem brash but he does have a kind side."

I finished my eggs and brought the plate over to the sink. "It was dark last night when I met him but does he have some kind of streak in his hair?"

"Yes a white streak right the front." Alfred took my plate and put it in the sink alongside the rest. "Its quite a notable feature of his."

I took a seat back at the table. "I always thought it'd be nice to dye my hair."

"Typically when the children want to dye their hair they go to Harper."

"Do a lot of the kids dye their hair?"

Alfred chuckled. "They rarely dye their own hair but often time one of the boys will wake with some kind of brightly coloured hair, unknown to them of course."

I giggled and stood up. "I'm going to head back up to my room."

"Oh I almost forgot. A package came in for you. I believe Master Bruce put it in his office for safety. I can retrive it and bring it up to your room if you would like."

"If you wouldn't mind Alfred. There's no rush on it."

Alfred nodded. "Of course."

"Thank you." I left the kitchen and headed back up the stairs.

I had just reached the second floor when I heard a voice. "Hello."

I looked over and saw a blonde girl standing by the map on the wall. "Hello Stephanie, isn't it?"

She gave me a curious look. "Just Steph will do. How'd you know?"

I pointed to the map. "Dick told me your the one who makes the maps."

"Ah yes. One of my greatest ideas." She laughed. "Your Ashleigh right?"

"Bang on."

"Nice to meet you. I'm heading to join Cass in the library. Maybe you wanna come join us?"

"Uhh" I thought for a moment. "No thanks. Maybe another time though."

"Okay that's fine but you know where to find us if you change your mind." She giggled. "Just check the map."

I nodded and began climbing the stairs to the third floor.

"Ashleigh."

I stopped and turned. Steph was standing at the bottom of the stairs. "Welcome to the family."

I stared at her for a second then I smiled. "Thank you."

She ran off down the hall and I headed up to my room. I managed to not run into anyone else before reaching my room.

I lay into bed and put on my headphones and just got lost in the music for what felt like hours until voices in the hall caught my attention. I stood up and placed my ear against the door.

"What's in the box, Dick?" I heard a voice ask.

"None of our business." Dick replied.

"It sounds like it's broken." Another voice said. It sounded like Jason.

"It sounds like Lego." The mystery voice said. He sounded confused.

They have my box. Alfred must have asked Dick to bring it up.

"Into to toys now, Dickie boy." Jason remarked.

"Lots of adults collect Lego, Jay." The mystery voice sounded offended.

"Would you two shut it." Dick groaned. "The box is Ashleigh's."

"Aww, Dickie. The new girls already got you wrapped round her finger." Jason teased. "I thought it was only redheads-"

I could hear the wack of a hand hitting the back of a head then the clatter of a box of small plastic bricks hitting the ground. I flinched knowing that I would have to reconstruct whichever of my poor sets were in that box.

I heard a groan from Dick and lots of laughter. I figured I should go out and get my box before anymore damage is done. I stepped out in to the hall to see Dick picking up the box, Jason was on the ground pissing himself laughing, and the third guy just looked like he was wishing he hadn't been adopted.

"You okay?" I asked them.

All of them stopped and looked at me. Dick stepped forward and handed me the slightly dented box. "Im so sorry. Jay dropped your box."

Jason, who was now on his feet, feigned offense. "ME! You dropped it."

"But it was your fault." Dick shook his head. "We can play the blame game later." He turned to me. "I'm sorry if anything is broken."

I smiled at him. "Nothing I can't rebuild."

"So it is Lego." The third guy jumped in.

I looked at him curiously. " Yes."

Dick pointed to the man. "Ashleigh, this is Tim. Tim, this is Ashleigh."

Tim outstretched his hand. "Nice to meet you."

I nodded to him. "Likewise."

"Well now that everyone is introduced," Jason interrupted. "I have to go. I promised Alfred I'd help with dinner."

Jason walked off. Dick looked at me and handed me the box. "Bruce should be home soon. Alfred said dinner should be ready about ten. You can come down or if you don't feel like it, text me and Alfred will bring it up."

I nodded. "Okay, thanks."

Dick nodded. "I'll talk to you later, I think Babs is coming around for dinner today so I should probably tell Alfred."

Dick walked off leaving me and Tim standing there. "Well I should go put this box down my arms are getting tired."

"Mind if I come in for minute?"

"No, you can come in." We both went back to my room and set the box down in the corner.

"So you're into Lego."

"Yuuup." I opened the box to inspect the damage. The set was completely smashed. I'd have to rebuild it from scratch.

Tim was looking over my shoulder. "I could help you with that if you want."

I stood up and faced him. "That's okay. I find the building quite enjoyable."

He nodded. "Okay cool. It's nice to have a new face around the manor."

"Thanks." I smiled at him.

Tim looked at me for a moment. He looked as if he wanted to say something but didn't. "No problem. I'll talk to you later."

"Okay see yah."

I watched curiosly as Tim left the room then I sat down on the bed.

A moment later I heard a voice outside my room. "Hey Tim." It sounded like Bruce.

"Bruce, what's up?"

"I'm looking for Ashleigh, is she in her room?" I heard Bruce ask.

"Yeah I was just talking to her." Tim replied.

"You should head down. Alfred said dinner should be ready soon."

"Gotcha."

I heard Tim walk off down the hallway as Bruce approached my room. "Hello."

I looked up from my phone to see Bruce standing in the doorway. "Hi."

"Can I come in?"

I nodded.

He came in and sat on the bed beside me. He looked around the room. The room was empty bar my single bed, an old dresser, my suitcases, and the box. "I didn't think there was a room this small in the mansion." He laughed. "I can get Alfred or Dick to bring you furniture shopping one of the days. If you'd like."

"Yeah that'd be okay." While both Dick and Alfred were practically stranger's to me, I felt close to them. I felt close to some people very easily. All it really takes is one good moment between us and I'd basically trust them with my life. One of my many bad traits.

"Or," Bruce continued. "You could wait till the weekend and I could bring you."

I looked up to his face. "Really?"

He smiled. "Of course. I have to work most weekdays but im free on the weekends." The smile disappeared off his face. "Look I know it's gonna be difficult for you to adjust to this family but-"

I wrapped my arms around him. As silly as it may be, I mean I've only known Bruce a couple months, but he already feels like family to me. Bruce embraced me.

We sat like that for a while until he let me go. "Dinner must be almost ready." He stood up. "I can have Alfred bring yours up, or you can come down." He offered me a hand up.

I took his hand and stood up. "I'll come down. I gotta get used to everyone eventually."

"Are you sure?"

I nodded

We headed down to the dining room amd stood outside the two doors. "Everyone will be in here are you sure you're ready?" Bruce asked me.

I nodded and gulped nervously.

"I asked Dick to keep a seat between me and him for you, or you can sit in another free seat if you feel like it."

Bruce stepped forward and opened the door. We walked inside. I had been told how many people would be here but seeing them, it seemed like so many more. My heart began to race and I froze. It felt like an eternity, though it was only a second, as I took I'm the vast array of people at the table. Most looked up from their meals to see who had just entered the room, some were too occupied eating whatever food Alfred had prepared. I felt Bruce's hand on my shoulder and I snapped out of it. He guided me towards the head of the table. I could feel the eyes on me. We stopped and I sat at the chair in front of me as Bruce took a seat at the head of the table just beside me. I looked to my right and Dick was sitting there just as Bruce had said. Across the table from me was a small child and beside him was Tim. I looked down at my plate as to avoid the gaze of the people I could feel looking at me.

"I hope this meal is of sastifaction Miss Ashleigh." Alfred asked.

I looked up to see Alfred standing beside my seat. "Of course, Alfred."

He nodded and turned to Bruce. "I asked them to wait for you before beginning."

Bruce smirked. "I see, then it should be no surprise they started without me then."

Everyone seemed to have gone back to their own conversations amongst themselves.

"Ashleigh." I heard Dick say beside me. I turned to him. "I'd like you to meet someone." He slid his chair back so I could see the girl sitting beside him.

The girl smiled at me. "I'm Babara, but you can just call me Babs."

"I'm Ashleigh."

"That's a lovely name." Babs looked to the people behind her who were deep in conversation then she looked back to me. "You can come to me if any of these smucks are getting on your nerve. I've got blackmail on all of them."

"Wow." Dick quickly butted in. "What blackmail?"

"Wouldn't you like to know, Discowing." Babs teased.

I looked at Babs. "Discowing?"

Dick quickly slid his chair inbetween me and Babs. "Its nothing."

I saw Babs laughing the other side of Dick as his face went red. I looked down at my food then up again. The small boy across from me was just staring at me. Tim elbowed him and they immediately started into some kind of whisper argument.

"That's Damien." Dick said. "He can be a bit... intense sometimes. Don't worry he'll warm up to you quickly."

The rest of the dinner went by without much interesting happening. Though I could have sworn Damien was attempting to stab Tim under the table at one point. Dick and Babs were completely enthralled in a conversation that they both seemed to have forgotten I was there. Bruce would occasionally glance up from his meal to me and smile but he didn't appear to be able to think of anything to say. I just tried to focus on my food for the most part and not all the other people at the table.

I had almost finished my plate when Bruce finally spoke. "It's probably best I introduce them all to you."

"Yeah."

"You sure?"

I nodded then he stood up. He gestured for me to stand up and I did. He tapped a spoon on the side of his glass. Everyone stopped talking and looked up to us.

"It's not too often we're all here together." Bruce began. "Certainly not as often as I'd like-"

Bruce voice faded away, all I could focus on was all the people in front of me. I could feel the panic setting in.

After what felt like an eternity, I heard Bruce's voice. "Ashleigh?"

I looked up at Bruce. He nodded his head towards the table. I looked towards the table. Everyone was looking up at me. Was I supposed to say something? I gave a weak smile and waved. It's all I could do, I don't think my voice would work if I tried.

I felt Bruce hand on my shoulder gently pushing me down. I took my seat and so did Bruce. I felt Dick's hand on my back. I kept my eyes on my plate then looked up to Bruce. "May I be excused?"

Bruce nodded. "Of course."

I stood up and quickly walked out of the nearest door, making sure to avoid looking at anyone at the table. I ended up in the Kitchen. Alfred was standing by the sink. "Miss Ashleigh, are you alright?"

I nodded but I could see myself shaking.

Obviously so could Alfred. "Take a seat Miss Ashleigh, I'll get you a glass of water."

I took a seat at the counter. I heard a door open behind me. "Alfred is Ashleigh here?" Bruce noticed me and rushed to my side. "Ashleigh are you okay?"

"I'm so sorry." My words were shaky. I was holding back tears.

I felt Bruce's arms wrap around me. "You don't need to be sorry. It was just too many people, I understand."

I began sobbing. "I thought... I could..."

"Ashleigh, this won't go away over night. No one is expecting it to."

Alfred stood on the other side of me and handed me a glass of water. "Drink Miss Ashleigh it will help."

I sat there sipping the water for a couple minutes until I had calmed down. Bruce and Alfred never left my side. I giggled a little while sobbing. "A great first impression."

"No one will judge you. I promise." Bruce reassured me.

I nodded. "Is it okay if I go up to my room?"

"Of course." Bruce took his arms from around me. "Do you want someone to come up with you?" I shook my head. Bruce nodded. "I'll come check on you in a while."

I nodded and walked towards the door. I headed up to my room. Everyone must have been still eating cause I didn't run into anyone on my way up. I locked myself in the room and began piecing together the set the boys had broken.

Some time passed when a knock at the door startled me out of my building trance. How long had I been at this. I stood up and opened the door. Bruce was standing there. "Hi, I just wanted to check on you ." Bruce glanced around me at the mess of Lego across the wooden floor. "You collect Lego?"

I looked back at the mess. "Yeah."

"Some of the others buy the occasional ones but I don't think any are into collecting it." Bruce commented.

"Oh cool." I smile at him.

His smile faded. "I want to apologise about this evening. I'm so sorry about that."

I gave Bruce a small smile. "It's okay. I'm okay."

Bruce sat down on the bed beside me. "Seeing all those people would be intimidating at the best of times. Under your circumstances I-" He stopped himself. "I'm sorry. Take things at your own pace, however fast or slow that is."

I leaned into him and place my head against his shoulder. "Thank you."

He place his arm around me and we sat like that for a while.

Eventually I spoke. "I really should probably get to sleep."

Bruce nodded and stood up. "If you need anything you know where to find me."

I nodded. Bruce hesitated for a moment then left. I locked the door behind him and checked my phone. 22:36. I pushed my mess to one corner of the room then hopped into bed. It wasn't long before I fell asleep.

15 notes · View notes

myriadimagines · 4 years

Text

Savior

Star Wars (Sequels) One Shot

Pairing: Reader x Poe Dameron

Other Characters: BB-8, Leia Organa, Kylo Ren, Temmin Wexley, Finn

Warnings: mild swearing, violence, mentions of death, injury

Requester: anonymous

Request: “hi love, i hope you’re having a wonderful day. 💖 can I request a poe dameron x fem!reader one shot where the reader is also a pilot and secretly crushes on Poe. When he gets taken by the First Order, she becomes overly worried and begs General Organa to let her go rescue him. When the General asks why, maybe she yells..“because I need to tell him that I love him!”..or something along those lines. And she and Poe have a heartfelt reunion at the end. Sorry if this was too long ahh🤧”

Word Count: 3,378

A/N: y’all im so fuckin mad!!!!!!! i swear to god i queued this request and now it’s fuckin GONE!!!! thank god i had the actual fic saved somewhere else but i already deleted the ask with the original request so i’m so sorry i couldn’t include what the original request was. im still boiling over about this @ tumblr stop deleting my shit!!! EDIT: omg i hate this the original post just published at a completely random time despite disappearing from my queue and i had to delete it before it got notes. UGH! at least it had the original request in it so i could put that in. anyway, @ the requester, this was not too long at all and a super cute idea!!! i hope you like it!!

please reblog/leave comments, they’re very much appreciated!

Your name: submit What is this?

You crowd around the console, the air of worry that fills the room almost suffocating as your fellow pilots look to you expectantly. The radio shakes in your hand as you bring it up to your lips, and you stare at the screen in front of you, Poe’s ship coordinates blinking at you as other red flashing lights rapidly approach — the First Order.

He’s surrounded, stranded in Taunul, a desolate desert village in Jakku. Leia had sent him to retrieve the map to Luke Skywalker, a crucial solo assignment which was supposed to be simple and quiet. You weren’t even worried when you watched Poe leave, despite always being worried for Poe when he goes on missions.

How the hell did the First Order find him, all the way on a planet you had never even heard of before the mission?

This is it, you think, watching the First Order close in on the village, with no signs of Poe’s ship making an escape. This is your absolute worst nightmare.

“Poe,” you urge, your fingers gripping the radio as you can hear his labored breaths on the other end. “Get the hell out of there!”

“I’m trying, I’m trying!” Poe exclaims, and you can hear the engine of the X-Wing firing up, can hear Poe flicking on switches as he prepares for takeoff. You’re almost about to feel a sense of relief, to relax ever so slightly, but everyone startles at the unmistakable sound of a blast. There’s a low rumble, and you can hear Poe curse under his breath before he informs you, “I’ve been hit, my engine’s down!”

Your chest tightens as you heard murmurs of worry around you, everyone nervously looking amongst one another. You desperately try to rack your brain, try to come up with any solution you can to help him, but your thoughts are interrupted as Poe tells you, “I’m giving the map to BB-8, it’s safer with him than with me. BB-8, get as far away from here as you can, you hear me?”

“Poe, don’t!” you try and stop him, already knowing he’s refusing to run. Poe ignores you as BB-8 bleeps in response, and you try and interject, “You’ve got to get out of there—”

“I’ll come back for you!” Poe tries to reassure BB-8. “It’ll be alright!”

You look up at your squad, catching Leia’s gaze from across the console. She can see the clear torment in your features, and you run a hand through your hair, flinching as you hear the loud sounds of a blaster being fired. Shaking your head, you look up as you plead, “General, we have to help him—”

“No, it’s too dangerous!” Poe interrupts, his voice barely audible over the loud static from the radio. He ducks behind a dune, watching as the villagers are rounded up while none other than Kylo Ren descends from his ship. “I—”

Poe’s voice is quickly drowned out by static as the connection temporarily falters, and you clutch the radio, eyes wide as you exclaim. “Poe? Poe!”

You turn to Leia, utterly powerless as you silently beg her to do something, the radio clattering onto the table as you drop it. She frowns, shaking her head slightly as she knows there’s nothing either of you can do but hope that the First Order doesn’t find BB-8, that Poe can somehow get himself out of the mess he’s been dragged into.

There’s a muffled voice, and you pounce on the radio, feeling a tiny flicker of hope as you wait to hear Poe’s voice.

Back on Jakku, Poe is yanked to his feet after being caught and brought before Kylo. The stormtroopers search him at Kylo’s orders, and one digs the comlink out of his pocket. Poe helplessly watches as he hands it to Kylo, shaking his head as he informs, “Nothing, sir.”

“Put him on board.” Kylo orders, before crushing the comlink in his gloved hand, letting the metal slide out of his palm and into the sand. You lean up against the table, about to collapse, as everyone seems to slump in defeat. It’s the last thing you hear before the radio goes dead.

—

Your head snaps up as you force yourself to stay awake, and you tiredly rub your eyes, failing to fight off sleep as your gaze fixates on the map in front of you. You reach forward, zooming in on the screen as you run a scan on the system, desperately trying to find any sign of Kylo’s ship, where Poe is imprisoned. The glowing colors begin to blur together as fatigue sets in, and you let out a sigh, rubbing your eyes again as you blink, trying to focus your vision. You look down as your droid, R0-Y7, hums beside you, and reach out to place a hand on his head.

“I have to find him, Roy.” you mutter to the droid, who shifts closer in an attempt to comfort you. Your trusty R0 unit had spent all night by your side, and you smile down at him, grateful to have some company in the otherwise empty room. Resting your elbows on the console, you continue, “I have to save him.”

You can see the first stray beams of the morning sun through the windows of the control room, and you straighten, stretching your arms above your head before rolling your shoulders back. Despite the exhaustion that weighs you down, you refuse to sleep. You know you won’t be able to, anyway, until Poe is back in the Resistance base, safe and sound. It’s been two days since his capture, two torturous days of worrying about what unspeakable acts First Order is doing to him, who are no doubt torturing him for the map. You hate how no one seems to be doing anything, how you feel as if you’re the only person in the entire Resistance who’s desperate to have him back.

You try and tell yourself it’s because you refuse to leave anyone in the clutches of the First Order, but deep down, you know it’s so much more than that. This may very well be the end for Poe, you realise, and you never got the chance to tell him how much you love him.

And something inside you so painfully aches at the mere thought.

Tears sting your eyes as you shakily lower your head, the scan coming back empty with nothing more than some small cargo ships. Zooming the map back out, you begin to expand your search to the neighboring system before the door hisses open, and you startle before looking over your shoulder. You squint, letting your eyes adjust to the bright light that floods in from the hallway, and you recognize Wexley lingering in the doorway. You immediately sit up as Wexley says, “General Organa sent me to find you. We found Kylo Ren’s ship.”

Your eyes widen, and you jump to your feet, rushing past Wexley with R0-Y7 whizzing besides you as you make your way to the main conference room. You push past the pilots and spies that intently listen to Leia’s instructions, and you manage to maneuver your way to the front just in time to catch the end of Leia’s debriefing.

“While the Alpha Team are rescuing Poe, I want the Beta Team deployed to find the droid. We need to find BB-8 before the First Order does.” Leia insists, and everyone nods, studying the map of Kylo’s destroyer that’s projected in the center of the room. Leia’s gaze locks with yours, and she continues, “Let’s move. Time is of the essence”

Everyone quickly scatters, scrambling to make preparations as you make your way to Leia. Something inside you feels invigorated, finally able to do something instead of sitting around feeling utterly powerless. Nodding at her, you say, “I’ll go with Alpha Team—”

“No,” Leia stops you, shaking her head as she lays a gentle hand on your arm. Despite how desperately you’re trying to hide your feelings towards Poe, Leia can clearly see how distressing his capture has been for you. You frown, not understanding what’s happening, and Leia insists, “It’s best if you stay here.”

You struggle to maintain your composure as you can slowly feel yourself coming undone. Keeping your shaking voice steady, you reply, “With all due respect, General, I should be on this mission. I need to help rescue him—”

“y/n,” Leia interjects, noticing your trembling hands and your breaths becoming shallow. Trying to be as gentle as possible with you, she continues, “You haven’t eaten or slept since Poe’s capture, and you’re not in the right state of mind. I can’t risk anything going wrong—”

“Please, General Organa, I have to go with them.” you’re begging now, your voice overlapping hers, and you can’t hold back your tears anymore as they stream down your face. “You don’t understand, I need to be on the team—”

“Why, y/n?” Leia asks, somehow managing to keep her voice calm as you feel yourself falling apart, piece by piece. She holds your hands in hers as she continues, “I don’t doubt your skill, but—”

“Because I love him, and I need to tell him!” you suddenly exclaim, and the entire room seems to freeze, everyone around you halting in their tracks. Leia’s eyes widen, and you’re suddenly grateful for the fact she’s holding you, as your sudden confession suddenly takes all the energy out of your body. Your voice lowers, and in a quiet whimper, you repeat, “I love him.”

You feel simultaneously lighter and heavier with the truth out in the open, finally coming to terms with your feelings and accepting them. But your confession raises the stakes that much higher, and you feel the weight of your new burden crashing down on your shoulders.

You have to save him, or else you’ll never forgive yourself.

Leia sighs, giving your hands a small squeeze. She knows it’s a bad idea, knows she should insist you stay at the base and just wait for the teams to come back, but the desperation and heartbreak in your eyes softens her. Silently nodding at you, she whispers, “Go.”

You let out a quivering sigh of relief. Nodding gratefully at her, you pull your hands away, turning to sprint towards the hangar as your heart pounds loudly in your chest.

You’re going to save the man you love. You don’t even give yourself the option of failure.

—

You watch as Beta Team’s ship navigates its way towards Jakku, and you lean forward to press your communications button before speaking into the radio, “Good luck, Beta Team.”

“Right back at you, Alpha Team.” a voice responds, and you take a deep breath as you see the First Order ships in the distance. Both teams are hiding in transport ships, Beta Team in a salvage freighter intended to blend in with the scavengers on the planet, while your team is in a transport ship supposedly delivering weapons to the First Order.

You look over your shoulder at your squad, some of which are disguised in First Order uniforms as they prepare to infiltrate the ship. Nodding at them, you ask, “As soon as you find Dameron, you radio back to me, and I’ll get the ship ready to escape. Got it?”

The team nods in agreement, and one pipes up, voice full of determination, “Let’s get Dameron back.”

You look forward, punching some numbers into your monitor as you prepare to communicate with the Destroyer in order to get inside. You flinch as you see a TIE fighter swoop out of the hangar, and you feel yourself tense up as you immediately go on the defensive. The TIE fighter suddenly ducks under the destroyer, and everyone jumps back in alarm as you watch the cannons activate, rapidly firing at the rogue TIE fighter. Your brow furrows in confusion, and you turn to see your copilot equally as perplexed at the scene unfolding before you. The TIE fighter opens fire, destroying the cannons, but it’s not long before missiles suddenly dart through the sky, heading straight for the TIE fighter.

On the TIE fighter, the newly named Finn frowns as Poe pilots the ship back towards Jakku, and Finn asks, “Where are we going?”

Poe flicks on a switch above him, attempting to figure out the ship’s communication system while trying to steer the ship. He grins as a light flashes green, and he presses a number sequence for the Resistance into the screen in front of him as he replies, “We’re going back to Jakku, that’s where.”

“No, no, no, we can’t go back to Jakku!” Finn yells in protest. “We need to get out of this system.”

“I gotta get my droid before the First Order does.” Poe responds as Finn stammers in disbelief. Before he can protest more, Poe turns on the radio, yelling, “This is Poe Dameron, I repeat, this is Poe Dameron, does anyone come in?”

Back on your ship, you lunge forward, scrambling to press the communications button as you hear Poe’s voice in your radio. Around you, you can hear the sounds of disbelief and confusion, and you lean forward as you splutter, “Poe?”

“y/n? Oh, thank God, y/n!” Poe recognizes your voice instantly, and tears of relief and joy well in your eyes to hear his voice. The connection is jumpy, his voice barely audible, but it’s him.

“Roy, hone in on the frequency.” you urgently instruct, and beside you, R0-Y7 quickly plugs into the control panel. You anxiously watch as the droid’s arm spins, manipulating the frequencies as Poe’s voice becomes briefly garbled before the audio crispens, his voice is loud and clear.

Interrupting you before you can ask your endless stream of questions, Poe says, “I’ve escaped the First Order on a TIE fighter, and I’m heading back to Jakku for BB-8—”

“We’re in the Jakku system, we were coming to rescue y— wait, a TIE fighter?” you exclaim, stumbling out of your seat to lean forward, peering out of the cockpit window to see the TIE fighter on your right, the missiles still hot on its tail. “Please don’t tell me you’re in the TIE fighter that’s about to be shot down.”

Despite the wildly inappropriate timing, Poe chuckles, and you hate how you can’t help but smile upon hearing his laugh. You always seem to find yourself in these situations, with Poe somehow managing to crack a smile out of you no matter how dire the circumstances. Nodding, Poe replies, “Yeah, that’s m—”

You gasp as the ship is suddenly hit, the wing exploding, and the ship begins to spiral out of control. You jump back into your seat, swerving the ship towards him as you yell, “Hang on, Poe!”

Your ship is bulkier than you’re used to, not as fast and sleek as your X-Wing, but you’ll have to make do as you watch Poe’s TIE fighter burst into flames as it enters Jakku’s atmosphere. You grip the steering mechanisms of the ship as you watch the TIE fighter careen towards the sand, but not before a parachute suddenly bursts out of the cockpit, and you can see Poe strapped to the seat. The parachute is tattered, tangled in the wind as Poe is thrown in the opposite direction, and you steer the ship towards him, not seeing the second parachute being released as Finn narrowly manages to escape the TIE fighter before it crashes into the sand.

You practically crash your own ship into the sand, the ship unsteadily rocking as you land. You snatch a blaster hanging off the wall, just in case, before slamming the button for the ramp to open. You sprint outside, your team quickly following suit, and you run towards where Poe has fallen, unconscious as he lays on his side in the sand. You crouch beside him, gently rolling him onto his back, resting his head in your lap as you caress his face in your hands. The side of his head is sticky with blood, matting his dark curls, and there’s cuts on his cheek and bottom lip. You gently brush his hair out of his face, urging, “Poe, please wake up, come on—”

You let out a sigh of relief as Poe’s eyelids flutter open, and he squints at you as the sun bears down on him, blinding him as he can feel a dull pain throughout his body. His eyes slowly adjust, making out your face hovering above him, and he can’t help but think you look angelic, the sun shining behind you, and your relieved smile makes his heart swell in his chest.

“y/n…” he croaks out, trying to sit up, but you quickly stop him.

“Wait, wait, careful.” you insist, gently holding him down. “You were in a pretty bad crash, and you’re all banged up.”

You look over your shoulder, gratefully nodding at your squad as two of them have already brought out a stretcher from the ship. The rest of the team help you load Poe onto the stretcher, and he frowns as he starts, “We have to find BB-8—”

“Already on it. There’s another team who’s searching Jakku now.” you reassure Poe, offering him a smile which he returns, despite all the pain he’s in. He weakly reaches out to you, and you immediately reach for his hand, clinging to it as you jog next to the stretcher, helping to load it onto the ship. Your copilot quickly fires up the engines as soon as the door closes, and you nod at one of your squad members as you instruct her, “Tell General Organa we’ve got him, and see if Beta Team has any updates.”

“Got it.” she nods at you, securing the stretcher in the back corner of the ship before giving you and Poe some privacy.

You finally let yourself relax, and you feel heat settling into your cheeks as you realise you and Poe are still clinging to each other’s hands, his fingers interlocked with yours as he refuses to let go. His smile is gentle as his gaze meets yours, and he gives your hand a little squeeze as he softly greets, “Hey.”

You smile, instinctively leaning closer towards him. “Hey.”

“Thanks for coming to rescue me.” he says, shifting towards you, and you try your best to ignore how his arm ever so slightly grazes yours.

“It’s my job, at this point.” you tease, biting back a grin. “You’re always getting into trouble, aren’t you, Dameron?”

“Yeah, but I know I’ll always have my savior.” Poe nudges you. A smirk makes its way onto his face, a smile that makes your heart flutter, and he jokes, “I mean, I did have everything under control…”

You scoff, and Poe can’t help but laugh at your reaction. His smile is so goddamn beautiful, and happy relief expands through your chest as you jokingly roll your eyes in response. “Don’t, Poe. Don’t even go there.”

Poe is still laughing, shaking his head as he musters up enough strength to prop himself upright. His laughter dies down, and your breath hitches as he looks at you, his gaze so full of tenderness and unspoken things, and you can see his eyes flicker ever so briefly down to your lips. Your lips part, as if words are trying to escape, but you’re suddenly rendered speechless as you realise no words can fully express how much you love him.

So you lunge forward instead, reaching your other hand up to caress his face as you kiss him, and Poe doesn’t even hesitate to kiss you back, running his hands through your hair as he pulls you closer to him. You feel yourself dissolving at his touch, instantly melting into his lips, and when you break away, breathless, you finally tell him, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Poe replies, with a smile spreading across his face that’s brighter than the sun. It’s more glorious than everything you’ve ever seen in your entire life, and nothing across the entire galaxy can make you happier than seeing his smile.

And you’re even happier knowing he’s smiling because of you.

tag list: @proudchocolateaddict / @myfriendmagislit / @dragon4123 / @fire--pheonix / @gofandomsandotherstuff / @natalia-helena-alianova-romanov / @fairytalesforever / @emmacata / @hauntedpocdreamer / @fangirlsarah16 / @adaleya / @floup-doodles / @batfam16 / @multifandomwriter121

77 notes · View notes

harrieatthemet · 5 years

Text

Lucky Numbers

One where Y/N and Harry earned this, at least they thought they did.

*I just really want to apologize for this one. Seriously im so sorry.*

Thirty One.

You’ve never believed in lucky numbers, never found any interest in having one, never saw the purpose in it either. And when people would talk about their lucky numbers, 1 or 5, 7 or 12, you’d discreetly roll your eyes.

Up until now, because now you’ll tell anyone and everyone that 31 is your luckiest number.

31 times, that’s how many times you had to take a pregnancy test. And it wasn’t until the 31st try that it came out positive. It took 31 different names to try and find the perfect one, and Harry was over the moon with the 31st name.

And now you were here, in London, along with Harry for tour and 31 days exactly away from the start of your third trimester.

All the prayers had been answered, every dream had been fulfilled, and every tear simultaneously dried up. After what felt like millions of years trying so unthinkably hard for something that was supposed to be so easily achievable, you’ve got it. Both of you do, and you’re not sure who’s happier about it.

“G’mornin’ button,” he coos, a quick peck delivered to your temple, before he moves to the small peak of your belly “g’mornin’ bump.”

He can’t help himself. Even if he could, he doesn’t think he could stop. Fondling your bump, that small little bump, showering it with fluttery kisses, singing to it, talking to it, all of it has become a typical part of both of your everyday routines. It’s why you’re here, alongside him during all the hectic traveling for tour, struggling to shimmy on a pair of jeans that have become too tight as of today.

A wardrobe meeting was 15 minutes away from commencing, he knew that, though it didn’t keep him from scrambling to mute the reminder on his phone so you wouldn’t scold him for lingering in the hotel room. But he couldn’t leave, not just yet. Staying here, sitting behind you on the mangled sheets of the hotel bed was too inviting, as he watched you in the mirror while you fiddled with your hair.

“Y’so sexy,” He breathes, smile crooked and eyes bright, “so sexy, all full o’ me, carrying my baby.”

“Stop it,” you smirk, giving up on your hair and throwing it up into a bun, “m’not, I feel so round you’ll have t’book me an entire row on the flight back home.”

The cackle that comes from him permeates the whole room, and you give him one of those serious looks, forcing him to swallow that breathy laugh, before encouraging him to hoist himself up off the bed and place himself behind you.

“Yeh not tha’ big,” he playful admonishes, “yet, anyways.”

“This is really helping,” you answer sarcastically, “thank you!”

“S’a baby in there, love,” he sings, “growin’ is a good thing, yeah? We worked for this, should enjoy it.”

His words of encouragement, in unison with the small circular strokes his palms make on the base of your petit swollen belly, begin to resonate in your head. You wanted this, so badly, both of you did. And the bigger that belly grew, the fatter you felt and the more sluggish you became, symbolized all of the effort that it took to get there.

He’s out the door only minutes later, after you had to practically force him out. The strews of ‘be carefuls’ and lectures about how Gemma should keep a close eye on you, on the bump, were bordering annoying.

“Gettin’ so big, yeah?” Gemma gawks, hands gently cupping the swell of your belly.

“5 months now,” you smile, “she keeps growing.”

She reminds herself to hand you an extra sweater before the two you venture off for an early dinner, upon Harry’s request. Something about it being a little chilly out, and how he expressed to her that it was crucial you keep yourself at a cozy temperature. But thus far, you’ve learned there’s no use in protesting his quirky requests, whether he was present or not.

But amidst the frantic search for the bulky grey knit sweater Gemma swore she left on the kitchen counter, while she’s running around the first level of her flat searching for the damn thing, you feel it.

That first sharp pain, just in the side of your stomach, though barely there you still feel it. And of course, you downplay it. It goes ignored for a few more moments, until you feel the second one, and this time it’s not as easy to ignore.

Your hand flies to your oblique, gently pressing up against it in attempt to get the pain to subside. And that’s when Gemma finds the fucking sweater, and she appears back by the front door with it draped over her forearm.

“(Y/N),” Gemma starts, a gilder of concern in her tone “y’alright?”

“Can I just sit for a minute?” You choke out, and she nods anxiously, “Just a minute, s’all I need.”

And you waddle over to the lounging area, because now the pain is occurring more frequently, more painfully. She’s gotta help you sit down too, and she’s on full alert when you sit down with a loud hiss.

“Need me t’call Harry?”

“No,” you demand, before softening your tone “no, it’s fine. Just cramping a little, it’ll go away in a minute.”

But it’s already been five, and instead of going away, it’s getting a little bit more and more unbearable. Gemma, though she’s an absolute saint, isn’t helping much either, as she nervously sits vertical from you with eyebrows knit in worry and leg jumping from anxiety. She wants to call Harry, so badly, but she won’t if you really prefer she didn’t.

“M’just gonna get some water,” you breath out hastily, “m’probably dehydrated or something.”

And she insists on getting it for you, begs even, to which you object. Because just because you’re pregnant doesn’t mean you can’t pour yourself a glass of water, and you’re determined to get this pain to quit.

It’s when you get up, when you’re fully off the couch and near the door, that a worried sigh elicits itself from Gemma.

“Oh (Y/N),” she gasps, “think y’bleeding.”

“Don’t think I am,” you argue, “I’m fine, Gemma, really.”

“No (Y/N),” she insists, “mean it, s’all over the couch.”

You turn to look, ready to pick a fight, because you’re not bleeding. You can’t be, there’s no way. You’re already 5 months along, in love with this little bump, the happiest you’ve ever been. 31 days away from your third trimester. 31 is your lucky number.

But you see it. In fact you’re painfully aware of it, and upon looking at the grizzly scene on Gemma’s beautiful white sofa, you can feel a foreign dampness in your pants. And the pain is still there, clear as day and sharp as ever, that’s when reality sets in. So does panic.

“Can you call Harry now?”

Now you’re laying flat on your back, in a hospital in the city, an unfamiliar one. There are people chattering in the hallway, doctors congregating outside your hospital wing. All of it is white noise. It’s a little cold in here, and you start thinking about how you should’ve taken that grey knit sweater from Gemma earlier.

There’s a certain sense of loneliness, an indescribable kind of empty feeling. There’s nobody in the room right now, so it’s just you. Only you and your fleeting thoughts, as Gemma went to phone Anne outside of the room, and the both of you awaited Harry’s arrival.

“Harry’s on his way up,” Gemma reemerges, a sorry smile on her face, “should be in soon, okay?”

“Alright.”

The flatness in your tone, lack of emotion, it breaks her heart. And she knows that there’s not much to be said, nothing she says can help right now. It’s why she excuses herself quietly when Harry rounds the corner, hustling into the hospital room out of breath and flustered.

“Okay,” he sighs solemnly, “okay, s’alright. M’right here.”

“I’m so sorry.” You croak out, and his frown only deepens.

Sorry? He’s having a hard time believing the word just came from your mouth. He’s disappointed, sure, and undeniably heartbroken, of course. But there’s nothing for you to be sorry for, nothing you could have done to change the unlucky outcome of this. It makes his chest adopt a hallow ache, one thats worse than the ache that appeared earlier after receiving the news about the miscarriage over the phone.

He settles himself next to you, nestling himself between your body and the rails of the hospital bed. And he’s quick to hush you, quick to tuck a piece of hair hanging in your face to behind your ear, placing a kiss to your temple identical to the one he had given you earlier in the afternoon.

“Don’t want yeh t’carry this burden on y’own,” he murmurs kindly, “can’t fight fate, was jus’ meant t’be.”

“Didn’t want this to be my fate” Your voice is so small, and shaky, he swears he can feel his heart cracking.

The small, incoherent sniffle that comes from you is enough to break the heart in his chest. There’s so much he wants to say to you right now, so much he wants to do to make this less painful. But he knows none of it will help, none of it can cure the solemn feeling that’s enveloping you, enveloping him. So badly, he wants to take all this hurt from you and carry it himself, feel all your pain and sorrow so you don’t have to, but he can’t, and all he can seem to do that is right is hold you like he is.

“Gonna,” he exhales, shakily, “gonna put off these next couple ‘o shows. Take a little time off, just you ‘nd me, yeah? S’gonna work out, promise yeh.”

Lucky numbers return to being nothing more than a myth. Because you were sure now that 31 was the unluckiest number of them all.

#harry blurbs #harry styles blurbs #harry styles one shots #harry one shots #harry x y/n #harry styles x y/n #harry drabbles #harry writings #harry concepts #harry fic #harry fanfic #harry fanfiction #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagines #harry imagines

207 notes · View notes