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princehrry-writings · 3 years

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Y/n's a witch and Harry's her soulmate

I'VE LITERALLY BEEN WORKING ON THIS FOR 2 MONTHS!!!

lanfvksbkvjbs I hope you guys like it because I poured my whole soul into this!!!! I wanted it to be over 10k but I felt like I was just dragging it on and the ending isn't great but it's ok.

I switch between present and past tense without meaning too- oops :)

wordcount: 9911

warnings: uhhh, swearing, google translated latin :) catcalling and unwanted male attention (with a bad witch moment... see what i did there😏), a little bit of violence, very lightly edited lmao

She didn’t quite understand what was going on. Was this another witch? No, she would have felt that energy differently. So he had to be a mortal. But why did it feel like she had just been set on fire in the best way possible.

“Thank you…” He muttered, eyes glazed over. “M’Harry, by the way.”

Harry.

What a magical name, she thought.

Harry walks into Y/n’s shop one day, sees the brooms sweeping by themselves and gets a little curious.

“Althea, get your claws out of there. You’re gonna get hair in the muffins!” Y/n shrieked, quickly shooing the troublesome feline away from the open bowl of batter sat atop the counter. The cat just meowed at her, unbothered by her person's shrieking. Thea was quite the diva. She couldn’t give a flying fuck even if she tried.

“Oh Stars, look what you’ve done!” Y/n continued, cleaning up the trail of paw prints left in the flour on the table. “How many times do I have to tell you to stay out of the kitchen when I’m baking Thea! Why don’t you ever listen!”

Y/n has been a little strung up lately. That’s probably the understatement of the century. Maybe if she hadn’t been put in charge of the shop for the first time by herself while her mother went to gather supplies and place orders for said shop, she wouldn’t be so stressed. She’s only 22 years into her eternal lifetime. She’s yet to learn the virtue of patience, her mind never ceasing to run with ideas and thoughts and feelings.

Her mother always griped about how she needed to take a deep breath and let go of the tension in her shoulders because now that she had stopped ageing- she had all the time in the world (literally) to do everything she was worried about. Y/n would argue that she’s not worried so much as eager. She’s just very excitable.

“Why do I even bother yelling at you anymore.” Y/n grumbled, flicking her wrist in the direction of the broom closet. The broom and dustpan came floating out and got to work sweeping up the bits of flower seeds and petals that had dropped off the table instead of into the mortar like she had planned.

Y/n’s never been known for her cleanliness.

Out of the blue, the hair on the back of her neck and arms stood at full attention, a warm shiver shooting down her spine. What the hell? She thought to herself. Thea didn’t seem bothered by whatever energy was coming closer so she knew it wasn’t any danger, but it was something. Y/n flicked her wrist once more, quickly sending the broom away and going to hide behind a wall where whoever this was couldn’t see her.

The little bells above the door chimed, alerting anyone inside that someone had just arrived. In walked, who Y/n thought to be, the most beautiful boy she thinks she’s ever seen. Chestnut curls shielded by a knit beanie, sea glass eyes, broad shoulders, a kind smile on his face. He looked as ethereal as she was.

She felt the earth shift under her feet, her heart speeding up slightly in his presence. He was magnificent, she thought. The shiver she felt was steadfast and unchanging, finding a home in the goosebumps covering her whole body. She had never felt like this before.

The witch watched from behind the wall as the man gazed about the shop, his hands rested behind his back. In a pair of black jeans with a rip in the knee and a white tee shirt with a cardigan thrown over it, he shuffled about.

Y/n took a deep breath, collecting herself before making her presence known. She walked out from behind the wall, stepping behind the main checkout counter and clearing her throat lightly.

“Welcome in! I’m Y/n, let me know if you need any help!” She said, trying not to cringe at how scripted that sounded.

His head popped up, eyes connecting with hers and that’s when they both felt the energy in the room grow. Thea came sauntering out of the kitchen area in the back, Y/n made a mental note to check the muffin batter for cat hair later, no doubt at the electrical charge of the room.

“Thank you…” He muttered, eyes glazed over. “M’Harry, by the way.”

Harry.

What a magical name, she thought.

There was a pause, where neither of them wanted to move, in fear of this moment passing and never getting to feel like this ever again.

It felt like having a picnic on a warm summer day, where it’s not too hot but just right. It felt like the first breath of fresh Spring air, like hearing a baby giggle. She felt fuzzy and warm. Like she was wrapped in a hug. Y/n felt… peaceful. She felt all of her anxiety about the shop melt away, as if it had never been there.

Harry smiled at her, a pink tinge coating his skin, and pulled his eyes away (he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable by staring), continuing on with his peruse of the shop. He had no idea why he was here, truly. Didn’t realize where he was until he pushed through the door. He doesn’t even know what any of this stuff is, he’s just looking so it seems like he knows what he’s doing.

He felt something brush his ankle, looking down and seeing a fluffy snow white cat with striking green eyes (just like his!), and cooed at her.

“Is it alright if I pet her?” He asked, looking back up at Y/n. He would take any chance he got to look at her. She was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. With her shiny hair and kind eyes, a smile that made you want to hug her. She looked so welcoming. He felt… oddly peaceful.

“Yeah of course! She’s my little attention whore, aren’t you Thea?” Y/n giggled and Harry thought his heart would stop right there. Her little giggle was the most glorious sound he’d ever heard, he decided.

She got up from her little stool behind the counter and floated over to him, using her cat as an excuse to get closer. She just couldn’t figure out why she had such a pull to him. It didn’t make sense to her. Maybe he was a witch and was just masking his energy really well, maybe he was some sort of other creature, or maybe… no, that can’t be it.

Well…

Maybe… he’s her Flame. Her Twin Flame… Her Soulmate.

No. There’s no way. It’s so rare for witches to find their flames. And especially at such a young age. Y/n’s parents didn’t find each other for almost 75 years, and here she is at just 22, stumbling upon some magical happenstance where her Flame just saunters into her family’s shop.

Harry scratched behind Thea’s ear, a motor-like pur erupting from her little belly. She nuzzled into his touch, and then sprung up onto his shoulder from the table, startling the man. Y/n giggled at the look on his face, reaching up to scratch just above Thea’s tail, her favorite spot.

“She does that when she likes someone.” Y/n explained. A blush appeared on his face at this.

She likes him.

“So was there anything in particular you were looking for?” Y/n continued, hoping to make more conversation with him. Her fingers are buzzing, wanting to reach out and hold his hand or touch his arm, anyway she can get her hands on him really, but she knows that would be inappropriate so she refrains (however difficult it may be).

Harry was in the same boat. He felt the need to wrap her up in his embrace and never let her go. It was the strangest thing he thinks he’s ever felt.

“Honestly, no. I don’t really know what any of this stuff is… I didn’t even realize when I walked in but I didn’t want to look like a psycho just walking in and out of shops randomly.” A shy smile displays on his features.

Y/n chuckled. This furthers her hunch that he is, in fact, her Flame. Getting a random urge to come in here could only mean that the invisible string tying them together was leading him to her. Pulling them closer and closer everyday until this very moment, when they were fated to meet. Written in the stars to know each other, whether that be for love or friendship only time would tell.

She really hopes it’s love.

“Ok… We’re kind of just a general shop. We carry crystals, herbs, spices, oils, candles, and my mother does a lot of crafts, so we sell those here too.” Y/n went on to explain, Harry’s eyes flitted around to all the things she mentioned. He saw glittering crystals, by themselves but also made into jewelry like rings and necklaces, he saw bundles of different flowers and vials of liquids he assumed were the oils she mentioned.

“What is all this stuff for?” He questioned. He had never heard of anyone suddenly needing Oxeye Daisies or black onyx crystals, but he’d never been one to judge.

Y/n paused, thinking of the best way to explain everything. Practising “witchcraft” wasn’t an unusual topic to humans, but they didn’t know that witches with magic that was (semi-inaccurately) portrayed in movies and tv shows actually existed.

“Uhm, anything in the shop can be used for a number of things. Apothecary, gardening, herbal remedies, manifestation.” She explained. He nodded along with her words, doing his best to focus on what she was saying rather than just her. His body was tingling the closer she stood. He never wanted this feeling to go away.

Whatever this feeling was.

Harry looked around, his sights landing on a shelf full of colorful candles. His eyes lit up, trotting over to them, picking up one that was a light lavender color. He didn’t know he was drawn to this one in particular, but something had pulled him to grab it. Something was telling him to buy it, bring it home, and burn it on his bedside table, right next to his head every night.

It was Y/n’s favorite color.

The girl's cheeks burnt when she realized this was the one he had picked out. The occurrence might seem random to anyone passing by, anyone who didn’t know two halves of a soul had just been reunited with one another after being apart for however many years. But Y/n knew, and hopefully Harry would know soon.

She didn’t want to scare him though. He would think she was crazy. Imagine a random stranger that you’ve never seen before in your entire life tells you that you’re meant to spend the rest of your life together. He would run away screaming.

So she has to start slow.

“Think I might get a few candles…” Harry trails off, looking around at all the different shapes and sizes of colored wax sitting before him. Y/n smiles at this and nods, letting him know she’ll be at the counter if he needs anything.

Please need something, she hopes to herself.

He didn’t end up needing anything, but he ended up purchasing 3 candles, all of them being that same lavender color.

* .

. * .

It was a few weeks later when Y/n felt a familiar tingle run down her spine. Harry must be near, she thought.

She had spent the last fortnight and then some moping about the shop and her flat, hoping her Flame would turn up again. Her mother, Asteria, had been ecstatic when she heard that her daughter had found her Flame, and empathised with her pain, understanding that he was a mortal and it was difficult to form bonds with them quickly. The woman always found it interesting how the most indefinite creatures took the longest to form their bonds. But then she remembered they had no knowledge of Twin Souls and often settled for one not fated to them.

“Mama, he’s close. I can feel him!” Y/n cried, tidying her appearance in the reflection of the window. She hopes to the Stars that he’s coming to see her and not just passing through.

Waving away the brooms fluttering around the shop, she busies herself restocking shelves. Asteria had just finished a new batch of candles that needed shelving. The mother had been trying new recipes lately and was excited to see how they would fare.

Y/n almost misses the little chime of the bells signaling that someone has just entered. If it weren’t for the energy in the room skyrocketing and all the hair in her body standing at attention, she wouldn’t have noticed it at all. Turning, her gaze falls upon a familiar set of sea glass eyes and chestnut curls that have enchanted her mind every passing second since the first time they met. She tried her damndest to hide her grin, but had to turn away so he wouldn’t be able to see it.

Harry looked around the shop before his gaze fell upon the girl he hadn’t stopped dreaming about since he last was here. There she stood, back turned to him, with her shiny hair and adorable outfit. In a lavender colored sundress, hair pulled back by a white scarf, she fussed about the candle shelf that Harry had searched the last time he came.

Everytime he burned that candle, he thought of the way her eyes sparkled when she talked about the different items in the shop and how she smiled at him when he asked her a question.

Harry had never been one to jump into things quickly. He was the kind of guy that liked to get a feel for a situation before he really dived into it. But there was something about this girl that made him want to jump in head first, fearless. He hadn’t stopped thinking about her, daydreaming about little scenarios that he wished would happen between them.

He knows he sounds crazy, but he has a crush on her. And he’d only met her once! That is so not like him at all.

Y/n turned once again, sure that she had calmed the burning in her cheeks, greeting Harry as if she hadn’t thought of him in weeks.

“Welcome in,” she says, wondering if it would be weird to him if she remembered who he was, she decided she doesn’t care, “Oh, hi Harry!”

“Hello Y/n!” He smiles. Y/n felt her heart stutter in her chest when her name fell from his lips. As if she was floating (she had to check to make sure she actually wasn’t), she followed the sound of his voice, going to stand before him. Her first instinct was to hug him, and she was very sad that she had to stop herself.

“What brings you back?” She asked, itching to reach out and hold his hand. His gaze flits around for a few seconds before landing back on her face, a rose tint now on his cheeks.

“I- uh, I don’t really know. I just felt like I needed to come back…” He stuttered. A smile graced her lips, causing an identical one to grow on his own. Asteria watched from behind the counter, beaming at the couple.

“Y/n dear, who’s this?” The witch called. Y/n snapped out of her love-drunk haze, looking to her mother.

“Mama, this is Harry. He came in a few weeks ago while you were away.” She answered, giving her a look that said “please don’t say anything.” Asteria had a tendency to butt into her daughter's life, and Y/n needed to figure this out on her own.

Thea came flouncing out from whichever corner she had burrowed herself into and nosed at Harry’s feet before launching herself onto Y/n’s shoulder and staring at Harry from her new height advantage.

“Well look at you Thea, sittin’ all pretty up there!” Harry reached out to scratch behind her ears. Thea began purring loudly, louder than she did when Y/n petted her (Y/n did her best not to roll her eyes at her attention whore cat). The one thing the girl loved about this was now she had a reason to step closer to the boy before her. He smelled like citrus and woods, with a hint of weed (she’s not judging, she just wouldn’t peg him for a stoner so it’s a little surprising). She let it take over her senses until all she could think about was HaryHaryHary, having to stop herself from purring just like the cat.

“Well, whatever led you back here, it’s nice to see you again!” She blushed, deciding to let her affection for him shine through lightly. Y/n realized she didn’t really want to waste time dancing around mortal niceties. She didn’t want to scare him off but she wouldn’t feign disinterest. The witch wanted to make it clear she was smitten with him. So this was her way of starting slow, letting her blushes be seen, maybe resting a gentle hand on his bicep if he says something that makes her laugh, letting her longing gazes be caught before she looks away.

Like she said before, she’s going to start slow.

“I am too…” Harry wondered if maybe she felt the things he was feeling too. If she couldn’t stop thinking about him the way he couldn’t stop thinking about her. He wondered if it would be weird to ask her out. See if she wanted to get dinner with him, or have a picnic in a park on a sunny afternoon while he stared, as uncreepily as he could, at her bright smile and star-stricken eyes.

Very quickly, like it almost didn’t happen, Y/n saw a blush pink haze surrounding the boy. He was feeling love. The heat in her cheeks rose, fluttering of her heart increasing.

Now she knew for sure, he was her soulmate for love- not friendship. Thank the Stars!

* .

. * .

The next few weeks, Harry would come in every few days just to see Y/n. After realizing that she might be feeling the way he was, he wanted to make it clear to her that he was smitten. So he’d come in after he got done with whatever he’d been doing that day, bring her flowers or a blue-raspberry red bull italian soda (he saw her drinking one one day when he came by) and they would talk and sometimes he’d bring food if it was late and they would eat at the counter in the back kitchen. It became a routine, and he started showing up almost everyday. On slower days, she would close up early, so as not to have a single distraction from her Flame.

The two would talk about the most obscure things, not giving a rat if others heard them cackling at each other's jokes and misspeakings (Y/n stumbled over her words quite a bit when she was tired, he came to realize. He thought it was adorable).

In return for the beautiful flowers and the delicious drinks he’d bring her, Y/n would give him little spell jars or charmed items to make his life easier. He didn’t know they were spelled or charmed, but he thought it was cute how she gave him a lavender colored pen and told him he would think of her every time he wrote anything down (she had charmed it to always spell things correctly) or a little jar filled with lavender and chamomile buds, a few drops of lavender oil and a small amethyst crystal sealed in white wax to help quell the anxiety he’d been feeling with his job lately.

He appreciated them more than any material thing she could have purchased for him. He liked that she wanted him to think about her or that she wanted to do away with his ailments. He came in with a cold once and she spent the better part of an hour fussing over him, telling him all these little tricks to clear his sinuses and giving him different blends of herbs and spices that should clear this up in no time! He thought she was very adorable, worrying over a little cold and wanting to make him better.

Harry found that each time he left her, the force that pulled him to her grew stronger. He wanted to be in her presence more and more every time he walked out the door of the shop. The boy still didn’t really understand what it was about her, but he’s long since stopped asking questions and was just rolling with the punches.

Speaking of things Y/n did that Harry thought was cute- the things she said enamoured him, rendered him so speechless sometimes all he could do was sit there and look at her, (ironically) wondering what magical force brought her to him. He had no idea that the Universe herself was the one who chose his favorite girl.

“Oh Stars Thea! Get out of the nettle! It makes you sneeze, silly cat!”

“Stars forbid you ever listen to me, mother.”

“Althea Rose get your furry ass away from that hot wax before I feed you to the hellhounds!”

He loved how she was always saying Stars where he would normally say Jesus Christ. He never was one to be into religion but it was just something people around him said.

As the weeks went by, they began to sit closer and closer to each other. What started as across the table from one another, began to turn into her at the head and him on the corner next to her, then both of them sitting on one side but a bit of space between them, and then side by side, thighs touching, on the bench seat. Eventually, Y/n would lay one of her legs over his and he would rest his hand innocently on her skin, his thumb absentmindedly brushing back and forth, tapping his fingers to an imaginary beat as she told him a story about a kooky customer that came in.

That was another thing he loved that she said a lot: kooky.

Their goodbyes had grown more and more affectionate over time as well. From a little wave and a shy smile to a little hug, to a bear hug with a kiss on the temple from Harry.

Things were moving very swimmingly. Y/n was happy with the progress the two had made in getting to know each other. She had learned that he worked at a marketing firm but his passion was music, that he was in a band when he was in high school, and he’s from a village in Manchester.

Harry learned that Y/n has a degree in herbology and really likes the woods, and the show The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (despite the inaccurate depiction of witches, she thinks the characters are pretty).

Y/n has been trying to figure out the best way to tell Harry about her… lifestyle. It’s going to be a big shift in his reality and she worries that she’s going to overwhelm him. Her parents didn’t have this problem because they were both witches, but she had been fated to a mortal, which she’s not complaining about because loves Harry and all his human afflictions (loves!), but it’s quite a task keeping him in the dark until she’s ready to shed light on everything.

Especially on a day like today.

Her mother is out again, leaving her in charge of the store, again! And as previously mentioned, Y/n gets a little strung up when she’s left in charge. She’s forgetful, her mind flying all over the place. Her messiness gets worse, leaving different things all over the place (she somehow left a grimoire in the refrigerator at home), losing things… Basically, Y/n’s not doing so hot at the moment.

A busy spell had just finished, she had like 7 different customers in at once, all of them needing her for different things and all the chamomile and lavender oil rubbed behind her ear in the world couldn’t calm the anxiety flowing through her at the moment. She’d been so strung up that she hadn’t noticed the warm golden shiver running down her spine or all the hair on her body raising to attention or the jingle of the bells on the door when Harry walked in.

Walked in to see… the brooms sweeping up by themselves? And different pots and pans flying back into place… with no one carrying them. And Y/n muttering words he didn’t understand while her fingers wiggled, making the pestle inside what he learned to be called a mortar, moving by itself.

To say the least, Harry was very confused. And a little scared. Was he dreaming? Did today even happen? Was he still at home lying in bed?

The only thing that makes him realize he’s not is the shriek Y/n let’s out when she sees him standing frozen in the doorway, eyebrows pulled together in confusion (and a little bit of terror), mouth agape like he wanted to say something but didn’t know where to start. All at once, every moving item ceased and dropped, including the pots and pans which made a very loud noise, scaring Thea so much that she did the loud “meow!” that you only hear cats do in movies, and Y/n let out a quiet“Shit!”

“Harry…” She muttered, standing up slowly and treading towards him.

“Um… Y/n. What- what the fuck… was all of that?” He stuttered, and she continued to walk to him.

“Love, why don’t we go sit down and I’ll explain everything to you!” Y/n said slowly. She had taken to calling him Love lately, not being able to stop herself. They had yet to really “confess their feelings” to the other, but it was like a silent thing that no one said but they both just knew. So the name didn’t surprise him. Actually in the midst of all this craziness (and how his whole world had just seemed to be flipped in a matter of 5 seconds) he was clinging to the familiarity of the pet name.

He nodded, his eyes glazing over as he tried to wrap his head around what he was seeing. Y/n waved her wrist, everything that had dropped seeming to come to life again and be put back into their rightful places. Harry stared in amazement. Seeing it for the second time really drove the nail into the coffin that holy shit this is really happening…

They sat down side by side on the bench where they normally did but Y/n didn’t put her leg over his like they had grown used to. She missed the contact but figured a little space while she explained everything would be best for her Flame. Harry didn’t agree and tugged her closer to him. She didn’t fight it.

“Ok,” She sighed, cracking her knuckles as she took a deep breath, “Harry… my darling Harry. I need you to keep an open mind while I tell you all of this ok? It’s gonna be a lot for you to take in and I don’t want you to get a headache.” He nodded, and she took his hands in her own, running her thumb over his palm and channeling positive energy between the two of them. She saw Harry relax a little, letting her know it worked. He was ready (as ready as he could be) to hear what she had to say.

“Love, I’m a witch.” She says, letting it sink in for a moment. Harry doesn’t say anything for a moment. Y/n wonders if he’s even breathing. The strong pulse thumping in his wrist is a steady reminder that he’s ok, just shocked. (Very, very shocked).

“I come from a very long line of very powerful witches. I have magic, kind of like you see in movies and tv shows except I don’t worship the devil or eat children. None of us do. We’re usually very gentle creatures, unless we’re put in danger. Witches don’t use magic to hurt others, quite the opposite actually.”

“So… you cast spells and stuff?” He asks quietly. She breathes a laugh through her nose, nodding her head, continuing to channel him by rubbing her thumbs over his palms.

“I do, that’s what you saw me doing at the counter. I was actually strengthening the anti-anxiety jar I gave you a few weeks ago, because you told me you had a big project coming up and I didn’t want you to get too stressed out.” The girl said.

Harry couldn’t really focus on one thing for too long, letting his gaze flit around the kitchen area. He felt oddly… calm.

“Why do I feel so calm right now? I feel like I should be freaking out a little bit more than I am…” He voiced, finally looking into her eyes.

“I’m channeling you… look.” She said, pointing her gaze to their hands. He sees her thumbs rubbing gentle circles into his palms and looks back into her eyes.

“You’re casting a spell on me right now?” Harry wonders out loud.

“Channeling isn’t necessarily a spell, I’m just focusing and directing positive energy onto you right now, to help keep you calm. Like I said, I don’t want you to get a headache or pass out on me. I can stop if you want me to though!” She added quickly at the end but he shook his head.

“No, don’t stop…” He almost cried, pulling her closer to him.

“Ok, I won’t. It’s ok!” She shushed him, letting one of her hands float to his cheek, brushing over his cheek bone and pushing a fallen curl out of his eyes, before her hand found his again.

“Was it a spell that made me want to come in here that first day?”

“No baby, that’s actually a little different. This might be a little much so you gotta bear with me ok?” She explained and he nodded, heaving out a heavy breath.

A beat of silence passes and Y/n lets her eyes lock with his.

“We’re Twin Flames… or what you would know as Soulmates. We were fated to be together. That’s why you felt a pull to come in here. We were… destined… to meet each other.”

Harry doesn’t say anything and Y/n feels like her heart is about to beat out of her chest. She knew he was going to find out someday, but really didn’t expect that day to be this one. This crazy long day where everything had seemed to just bubble over and explode. She should have known something was going to happen when this morning, the flame on the candle she had lit for Harry on her altar was taller than it ever had been. She had written it off to him just thinking about her or something (if this was the case, it would be to the ceiling all day everyday because he never stops thinking about her), but she should have known. And now, here she was, terrified that Harry was going to walk away from her. She would understand if he did, it’s a lot to take in, and having your whole world flipped on its head is a bit much.

It would still break her heart though.

“So… this is normal?” Harry broke his silence.

“Is what normal?”

“That I want to be around you all the time? That I think about you all the time? What I’m feeling is normal?”

Y/n’s face softens. He’s so cute, she thinks. She could just wrap him up in a little bow and keep him all to herself for the rest of time.

“Yes, baby. It’s normal! I’ve been feeling the same things as you ever since we first met!” Harry’s mind is a little clearer now, so he picks up on the new pet name. Baby. He likes it, he decides.

“You feel this way too?” He looks like a little puppy right now, Y/n could just cry. She nodded her head, scooting impossibly closer to him, practically sitting in his lap. It seemed now that he was even calmer than he had been before, even without her channeling. She stopped for a second to test his reaction and he was ok. He didn’t tense up, eyes didn’t well in tears, didn’t lose consciousness. So she moved her hands to cup his cheeks now, feeling him lean into her touch.

“You’ve been the only thing on my mind since before you even walked through the door that first day. You’re in my dreams every night, I see you every time I close my eyes, I’m completely taken with everything you do.” Y/n confesses, feeling a weight lift off her chest.

“I know it seems fast to you, as a mortal. Your kind usually takes this kind of thing slowly, really learns a person before you become vulnerable. Out of fear for being judged or whatever it might be, but I would never judge you. I want you to know it’s ok to let your guard down with me. Whatever you're comfortable with! I don’t want to overwhelm you in any way, and I know all of this is so so much to take in. I just want what’s best for you, my Love.”

It’s not lost on Harry that she adds my before Love. He feels his heart flutter.

“I’m taken with everything you do too. Absolutely everything.” He whispers, if he speaks too loudly the moment might be lost.

They stare into each other's eyes, feeling the energy in the room grow. Flames from the lit candles around the room grow tenfold, reflecting the rising energy. Harry has half a mind to break his gaze from the girl before him, seeing the tall flames before bringing his eyes back to hers. He sees her gaze drop to his lips repeatedly. He doesn’t think she even realizes that she’s leaning in to him, but he’s not going to stop her.

When she’s so close he can feel her breath fanning over his face, she pauses, looking back up to his eyes, silently asking for permission. With her hands still cupping his cheeks gently, she closes the distance between them, pressing her lips delicately to his. Harry places his hands in two places: her waist and her neck. He pulls her in closer, pressing their lips together more firmly. A wildfire spreads from head to toe on both of them. It seems as though time has paused for this very moment, and again the earth shifts. A piece of the universe has just been restored, two halves of a soul reunited.

Harry’s fingertips send sparks flowing down her spine, she hums against his lips. The kiss is simple, just two people getting to know each other, learning the other's body, but it’s long. It’s not just one peck. Harry presses his lips against hers multiple times, slotting her bottom between both of his.

When Y/n pulls back to catch her breath, Harry chases after her, not ready to end this moment yet. She chuckles and grants him a few more kisses until she really is about to pass out because she needs to breathe. Pushing him gently, she breaks the kiss and rests her forehead against his, keeping her eyes closed.

She so badly wants to let the three words sitting on the tip of her tongue go, but doesn’t want to overwhelm him with too much all at once.

“Do you feel that?” He whispers, pulling her to sit astride his lap. She moves pliantly, letting him take control of the situation.

The air feels charged, thick, like it should be hard to breath but it flows, smooth as water, into their lungs.

Y/n’s head feels heavy, like she’s high on every drug there ever was, her mind fuzzy, unable to think outside of this moment. Outside of this little wrinkle in time where Harry is the only other thing that exists.

“Yeah,” She whispers back, reconnecting their lips, slotting them together over and over until their lips are puffy and red. Harry slides his hands around her waist, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her flush against him, not even a slip of paper would fit.

Pulling away, Harry heaves in a deep breath, squeezing Y/n’s hips.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for so long…” He says, nudging his nose against hers. She smiles, letting his affections wash over her, warming her eternal soul.

“This doesn’t freak you out?”

“Oh, I’m so freaked out but I'm kind of just going with it, living in the ambiguity and all that shit.” He heaves a laugh through his nose, pressing kisses to her cheek and down her neck, smoothing his hands up and down her back.

This was the best possible outcome of the situation, if Y/n had to be honest. It could have gone so many ways. Harry being freaked out but rolling with it… she’ll take it.

“How about we make dinner and you can ask me any questions you have?” She suggested and he nodded.

So they did just that. But Y/n closed the shop early and they went back to her place. Hand in hand they walked the few blocks, side glaces of reassurance and little squeezes of the hand, letting the other know they were there, and they weren’t going anywhere, with Thea in her little travel backpack (that she was absolutely in love with surprisingly).

They came upon an unsuspecting alleyway. Harry thought they were just passing through as a shortcut but Y/n stopped walking in the middle of a blank brick wall and muttered a few words she didn’t understand while waving her hands. He started to realize maybe this wasn’t just a shortcut.

Before his eyes, a door appeared. His brows shot up in surprise (he’s gonna get worry lines on his forehead if he doesn’t stop doing that, he realizes). Y/n looked over her shoulder at him, trying to hide a smirk but the look on his face was too good.

“Pretty wicked huh?” Harry didn't say anything, just chuckled and nodded, following her when she opened the door and a set of stairs appeared. Walking up the dimly lit hallway, they come to another door with the cheeky The Witch Is In sign.

“Cute.” Harry smirks at her and she laughs, opening it and letting him walk through first.

“Make yourself at home! I’ve got records on the shelf over there, you can pick one if you want. I’m just gonna feed Thea and get her all settled and we can get to making dinner.” Y/n explained. Harry ventured off into her living room, seeing the shelf she was talking about and browsing through. There were many different artists from Fleetwood Mac to Taylor Swift to Weezer. He picks out Hozier's self-titled album and puts it on, the beginning of Take Me To Church crackling through the speakers.

“Good choice,” He hears from behind him and smiles, turning around to see the girl he was apparently destined to spend the rest of his life with standing before him.

“Jackie and Wilson has been stuck in my head the last few days so,” He said, sauntering over to her and snaking his arms around her waist.

Taking a look around, he sees many different trinkets and items similar to what was in the shop. A lot of jars filled with different things, candles of all different colors, crystals, a broom (he didn’t realize witches actually had brooms but ok), among other things that he didn’t know the purpose of.

“Wait… how are there windows in here? I didn’t see any outside.” He asked, pulling back from the hug and looking at her.

“Well, there aren’t any windows in the alley. But there’s also a glamour spell on this building so nobody can see my apartment. That’s why you can’t see the door until I do the little thing you saw me do.” She answered. A sheepish smile broke onto his face.

“Oh,” he said and she laughed from her chest, petting a few fallen curls back from his forehead. She could get used to this, she thinks as she stares into his eyes, green as the forest and wide with wonder at everything he’s discovered today.

Who knew the girl he was falling in love with would be a witch… with actual powers.

* .

. * .

“Wait so, if no one can see your front door… how do you get mail?” Harry asked, reaching around Y/n for the salt.

“At the shop,”

“Oh,” He says. She laughs, kissing his cheek and continuing on cutting up veggies for the salad they're making.

“Have you always been able to do magic or was it something you grew into?” Y/n thought back to when she was little, remembering how she struggled to harness her powers for a few years before she started getting the hang of things.

“I always had powers, but imagic isn’t something you just wake up and know how to do so it took a while for me to really settle into and control. Magic is a skill, same as reading and writing, so I had to be taught and I had to work on it. Does that make sense?” She pauses while she explains, looking into his eyes. Harry nods, but his light hearted curious expression turns into one of embarrassment and she doesn’t understand why.

A rosy red color surrounds him, telling her he was feeling… embarrassed? Why did he feel embarrassed?

“Baby? What’s going through your head?” She asks, wanting to help him feel better.

She doesn’t like when he’s feeling anything other than happy!

“I just… I feel like I’m asking you so many questions about all of this stuff and it’s just tough to wrap my head around I guess.” She puts the knife down and sets her hand on his wrist, stopping from what he’s doing. She places her other hand on his shoulder, coaxing him to face her.

“Harry, this is a lot to take in, yeah? It’s not something you can just find out and move on from. It’s gonna take time to process. You’re gonna feel a lot of emotions, and that’s ok! I would be worried if you weren’t feeling a little off, as much as I hate that you’re not feeling 100%.”

She places a series of gentle pecks on his lips, doing her best to soothe him in any way.

“Ask all the questions you want! You don’t have to worry about being judged or saying something wrong, you have a right to be curious.” She feels him relax in her hold which in turn makes her relax.

“Thank you for being patient with me,”

He’ll get used to this, he thinks. He’ll get used to the fact that real witches actually exist, he’ll start to understand the words she mutters when she waves her hands, he’ll get it eventually. But right now, he doesn’t really get it, he’s not really used to it. But she’s worth it. She’s worth more than everything.

“I think you’re the one thing I know how to be patient with,” Again, she wants to mutter those three words on the tip of her tongue, but he’s already been through so much today, she doesn’t want to overwhelm him any more than he already is. So she’ll wait, because one day (hopefully soon) he’ll be ready to hear them.

“Can you do a spell? I kind of want to see how they work…” Harry asks after a moment of them just enjoying the silence that only really comes when two people understand each other.

She chuckles and nods, telling him she will show him a few spells after dinner. He agrees and they go back to making their meal, dancing around each other and laughing just like they always did and it felt good. Felt like this would be ok. Y/n was still scared because he could still decide to leave, that this was too much for him. That she was too much for him.

But for right now, things were ok.

* .

. * .

“Amoris et lux sum ego ipse, et carorum beatum facere potest, per potentiam solem et lunam, ut superius, et inferius.”

(I am love and light, I bring happiness to myself and my loved ones, By the power of the sun and moon, as above, so below)

Harry doesn’t think he’s ever heard anything weirder in his life...and his college roommate freshman year was a conspiracy theorist.

As Y/n spoke the words, she stirred a brew of tea infused with different herbs clockwise. He watched from beside her as she did this, his hand placed on her thigh so that his energy could be used in the spell along with hers.

Before she said the spell, she told him to set an intention and he had no idea what that was so she did a little lesson after reassuring him that his question was valid. (He’s still feeling insecure about not understanding anything she was talking about.) She told him to “close your eyes, take a deep breath, and clear your mind. Think of something you want in life that isn’t material.”

His immediate thought was that he wanted to spread kindness and love in the world (Y/n did her best not to tear up at her Flame’s pure intentions) so she nodded, telling him to think about that and only that, and set her intentions to the same thing so the spell would work. Mixing lavender, rose petals, and chamomile in a large mug, she pours in hot water to steep the herbs and, as previously mentioned, stirs it clockwise (something about clockwise being for manifestation), , rubs her palms together and snaps her fingers, and snuffs out the candles she had lit.

When all is said and finished, Y/n pulls Harry into a sweet kiss, and then has him take a sip of the tea telling him be careful my Love, it’s still hot. He kisses her back, taking a sip of the tea (he’d never been one for lavender things but this was actually really good. He wonders if it has anything to do with the fact that Y/n made it).

“So we just drink this and then what?” He asks, handing her the mug.

“We sacrifice an animal,” She says, not skipping a beat and taking her sip. Harry chokes on his spit, gasping for a breath of air before the girl bursts into a fit of giggles.

“I’m just kidding, baby. That’s it. That’s the whole spell. You just have to honestly believe it for it to work.” She says and he heaves a sigh of relief.

“Don’t joke like that!” He whines, more giggles escaping from Y/n’s throat.

“I’m sorry bub, I won’t do that anymore.” She says, still fighting off laughs. They continue to sip the tea, Y/n telling Harry about different things she did during the day.

Harry looked upon her as if she hung the moon just for him, and was telling him all about how she did it. Without even realizing it, he started to feel warmer and like a buzz was coursing through his veins.

“I feel weird…”

“What do you mean you mean you feel weird?” She voiced, pressing the back of her hand to his forehead and then feeling his pulse. Both were normal.

“I feel warm and like I’m buzzing… Kind of like I’m high…” He explained and she nodded her head, a small sigh of relief escaping her.

“That’s the spell working baby. You’re ok!”

“Oh, ok. It just worried me a little,”

“You’re ok! I want you to tell me when something worries you or feels different or off.” She says, and places a hand on his thigh. Harry agrees and they continue with their conversation.

When they both took their last sips on the tea, they cuddled up on the couch, an incense stick and candle lit on the coffee table.

Y/n sat, manipulating the smoke and flame simultaneously while Harry watched with a wide eyed gaze. She had explained how this was something he would be able to learn if he wanted to, and that she had been practicing for years to be able to do both things at the same time.

“I started when I was… I want to say 5. It’s a simple skill that promotes concentration. You have to stay extremely focused to even manipulate one element at a time. It’s only been these last few years that I’ve been able to concentrate enough to do both.” She explained, taking a break. As much as she loved showing Harry all these different things, it took a lot of energy out of her and it had already been a dreadfully long day.

“How about we go to sleep and I’ll show you more tomorrow? I’m pooped!” Harry hums an agreement, lifting his head from her lap and letting her lead the way to her bedroom.

Light lavender walls adorned with shelves full of plants and different nicknacks, and a desk with more candles, herbs, and other eclectic items sat atop it.

“What is all of this?” He sifts through all the things on the desk, not touching as Y/n had explained to him at some point today, I know you don’t have any ill intent, but a lot of this stuff absorbs other people's energy which can mess up what I use it for, so look and don’t touch. If you want a closer look, I’ll pick it up. There are different colored stones of varied shapes and sizes and many candles. One in particular catches his eyes. A green one with a very tall flame with something carved into the side of it. “What’s up with this green candle?”

“This is my altar, and the green candle is the one I have lit for you. I’m assuming that because you’re here, it’s going a little crazy. Nothing to be afraid of! I’m actually going to put it out since you’re here with me.” She explained quickly, reaching towards the flame with her finger and snuffing it out.

“Wait, you had a candle lit for me?” His eyes rounded, a shy smile coming onto his lips. An identical smile graced her features as she turned to look at him.

“Yeah, I’ve had one lit for you since the day we met. I made a sigil and carved it into the side and keep it lit day and night as an extra layer of protection for you.” She explained. Harry felt his heart melt at this.

She couldn’t get any cuter, he thinks.

A candle lit for him… to keep him safe. That’s adorable.

He leans in and places a gentle kiss on her lips, brushing the little hairs away from her face.

Y/n led him further into her room where her ensuite bathroom was, giving him a tooth brush and letting him know he could shower if he wanted to. When he came back into the room after getting ready, Y/n laid out on the bed in a sports bra and shorts. He just wore his boxers.

Climbing into bed next to her, she cuddled up to him right away, his arm finding a home around her body and her head laid on his chest, listening to his heart beat.

“Been dreaming about this moment my whole life,” Y/n mumbled, cheek smushed against his skin, making her look all cute and cuddly. Harry had to hold back a coo at the sentiment.

“Me too Moppet, me too,” He sighed, and they both drifted off into warm, fluffy, dream-like states, wrapped in the safety of each other's arms.

* .

. * .

Walking down the street at night isn’t the best idea for normal women, Y/n had learned over her 22 years of life. But Y/n is not a normal woman. She’s a witch.

And while most women carry their keys between their knuckles and have tasers or pepper spray or mace at the ready, Y/n didn’t really need that. This was one of the only instances where she would use her magic to harm anyone. Like she’d said before- only when she’s put in danger (or someone else around her is put in danger).

So when a prick who reeks of whiskey starts tailing her, she waits for him to take the first blow. Waits for him to get a little too close, so she can turn around and unleash her wrath on him. All the while making it seem like it’s not her doing. Like causing a brink to fall off the roof above her and hit him in the head. She wouldn’t actually do that but a witch could dream.

No, she’ll trip him up without turning around and if he still insists on gaining her attention, she’ll spin around quick, flick her wrist and send him into an unconscious daze and let him sleep off his inebriation on the lovely warmth of the concrete sidewalk.

That’s exactly what she does.

“Hey sweetheart, where you goin’?” He slurs, beginning his trek behind her. She’s unresponsive which leads him to believe she’s playing hard to get because his fragile little man ego can’t fathom that a woman would ignore his attention.

“Oh c’mon baby don’t be like that!” He speeds up, already wobbling but this only serves to make him clumsier.

She does her thing, flicking her wrist in his direction (discreetly) so he trips, but this doesn’t stall him. He reaches out, effectively grabbing her arm. She whips around to face him, cheeks growing red hot with anger. Ripping her arm out of his grasp and twisting his arm around, she gets close to his face.

“Touch me again, I fucking dare you!” She snarls, doesn’t even realize her grip is burning into his flesh- her magic gets a little crazy when she’s mad. Releasing him (tossing his arm away from her in a rough manner), she flicks her wrist once again and mutters a quick “et obliviscere somnum*”, watching him fall to the ground, unconscious. She looked around to see if anyone was watching the scene go down but no one was sober enough to pay attention to some drunk bloke harassing a young woman.

*(forget and sleep)

She shakes off her frustration as she comes to a stop in front of an unfamiliar building. Where her Flame lives.

She had agreed to let him make her dinner at his house, so she packed an overnight back and made her way further into town. He had given her an address and while, yes she did use it, she also let their bond lead her to him. She just kind of knew where to go, it seemed. Harry had expressed that he felt something similar the first time he went into the shop, though he didn’t understand why he wanted to walk in- just felt like he had to.

Making her way up the stairs, she let’s Harry know she’s there, beginning to feel the familiar tingle rush down her spine. She hadn’t seen him for a week and a half since he's been busy with a project at work- a client wasn’t happy with all the work he and a coworker had done so they had to quickly re-do an entire proposal to meet the client's deadline. Needless to say- the little anti-anxiety jar she made him was coming in real handy lately. Y/n had also had him put citrine and amethyst points on his desk while he worked to help him focus and stay calm so he didn’t stress too badly.

She always had a little something to make his life easier, whether it be a stone, or a jar of different things (a spell jar, he’d learned), or whatever it may be- she always had something to help.

When she made it to his floor, he was standing there waiting for her with open arms. She ran to him, jumping into his arms and holding onto him tight.

“I missed you, my wild girl,” He muttered into her neck, spinning her around. Her face flushed without fail, her arms wrapping tighter around him.

“Missed you most,” She sighed, nuzzling into him.

“Don’t think that’s possible.”

She hummed in disagreement while he walked them inside, Y/n still wrapped around him like a koala bear. His house smelled of peach and mango. It’s sweet- just like him. The thought made her smile.

Giving him a big smacking kiss on the cheek, she pulls back to have a look at his face, seeing he’s smiling like an idiot. It warms her heart to see him smile, butterflies breaking out of their cocoons and fluttering about her tummy.

“What’re you smiling for?” She voices, giggling at him.

“M’ happy you’re here,” He sighed, “Don’t like not seeing you.”

“I don’t like not seeing you either,” She frowned, petting his wild curls back and placing little pecks all around his face.

His cheeks flushed at her affection.

Harry set Y/n down on the kitchen counter, standing in between her legs, hands resting on her hips. Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to hers lightly, before slotting them together, fully indulging himself in his girl. She responds immediately, letting her hands rest around his neck.

She will never not be amazed by how soft his lips are. Kissing him feels like floating through clouds, like laying down in bed after a long day on your feet. Kissing him is like the first breath of warm summer air after the longest winter. Kissing him feels like coming home.

Y/n’s heartbeat picks up as the kiss becomes more needy, leaning into him further. Harry pulls her closer, his hands ghosting up the bare skin under her shirt and fiddling with the band of the bralette she’s wearing. A gasp escapes her lips when he pulled the fabric up, letting it snap back to her skin causing a smirk to grow on his face- struggling to keep up with her lips.

He kisses her breathless before pulling away, watching as her eyes flutter open and she heaves air into her lungs, her cheeks flushed and supple.

“Don’t want the food to burn,” He smirks again, hands falling away from her body, moving the pots and pans on the stove around to the counter so he could plate their dinner.

“Asshole,” He hears her mutter.

Harry could get used to this, having Y/n around. Being able to come home to her, make them dinner, make out in the kitchen, fall asleep together. He can’t believe he ever thought he loved anyone before she came along. There was just no way. Y/n came into his life and took over every aspect and now he couldn’t imagine a world without her in it. He hopes to the Stars he doesn’t have to.

Yeah, she’s got him praying to the stars now.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles x witch!reader #witch!reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles blurb #harry styles #harry x reader #harry styles one shot #one direction #one direction fan fiction #harry styles fanfic #one shot #harry styles au #witch!harry #soulmate!harry #soulmates au #harry styles x soulemate!reader

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officialaemondtargaryen · 3 years

Text

Five Kisses pt. 1

Summary: Your relationship with Bucky is defined by five different kisses.

Characters: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2,895

Author’s Note: Coming out of retirement! I hope that you all enjoy. I didn’t want to split this up into three parts, but it would have been a really long one-shot if I had. Le me know what you think! I haven’t written anything in like four years, so I’m not even sure if people still read fics. So toss a reblog to your fic writer, o’ readers a plenty!

You can read part two here!

You weren’t sure what to call Bucky Barnes. He wasn’t really someone you’d call a friend, but he was a little more than just an acquaintance. In fact, he was more of a pain in your ass than anything. Natasha introduced you to him, half in hope that the two of you would hit it off. Only, after an hour of knowing him, the only thing you wanted to hit was his head off of his shoulders.

Avoiding him after that first encounter was hard, seeing as he was always around with that stupid, shit-eating-grin plastered to his face. You could tell that he knew just how much his mere presence annoyed you; he enjoyed watching your jaw clench, teeth-grinding at the sound of his voice whenever he said something incredibly stupid- which was every time he opened his mouth.

You tolerated him, but only because you had to; for Steve and Nat’s sake. No one said you had to like him. You didn’t want to like him.

That was until he wound up in your dreams.

You might have been in an elevator or a doctor’s office, you couldn’t really remember. The details of the dream were fading fast, and the only thing that continued to stick out was Bucky. And your hands grasping at the lapels of his suit jacket, pulling him down to you. And the way your noses bumped together. And the sound of a desperate moan escaping the depths of his throat.

And how ridiculously soft his lips were.

A blush crept across your cheeks as you sat in your bed, embarrassed; hands holding your head as you wondered how your subconscious had let this happen. The thought of kissing Bucky Barnes had not once crossed your mind before, and now the thought of kissing Bucky Barnes had your mind racing. It was just a kiss and then you woke up. But as you sat atop tangled sheets, you thought of what might have happened if you had stayed asleep; your heartbeat kicking as you imagined him kissing you in other places.

You sighed; eyes clamped tight as you shook your head, trying to snap yourself out of it and push any thought of the man out of your mind. Natasha tried to make small talk with you in the kitchen when you went to make a cup of coffee, but at the first mention of Bucky you made up some excuse to get the hell out of Dodge.

Over the next few weeks, you were avoiding him more than usual. You turned down invitations to go out with the group-, knowing that he would be there. And when he and Steve came over to your apartment, you’d find some reason to leave; work, needing something from the grocery store, going to the gym or going to hang out with one of your other friends. Sure, it was just a dream, but you couldn’t deny that you had begun to think of Bucky in a different way since then. And you were sure your feelings would disappear if you stayed away from him for long enough.

You were coming home one night after work, completely exhausted and drained, and before you even opened the door to your apartment, you could hear the faint sound of laughter on the other side. You sighed as you slid the key into the lock, completely forgetting that it was Thursday night, or as Nat liked to call it, ‘Family Night’.

Natasha heard the door shut behind you and called for you to join them. Not feeling like fighting this one, you made your way to the kitchen. Nat stood at the stove, a steaming pot of noodles in front of her while Steve was leaning against the counter, in the middle of telling some story about when he and Bucky were in Italy. And Bucky was at the table, beer in hand, smiling as he tried to dispute Steve on a few of the details in the story.

“Hey guys,” you mumbled as you walked into the kitchen towards the refrigerator to grab a beer. “That smells great, Nat.”

“Thanks,” she beamed, obviously proud of herself. Your roommate rarely did any cooking, and most of the time the two of you were ordering take-out or going to the nearest ‘pizza-by-the-slice’ joint. You knew this newfound love for cooking- she had even bought herself an apron- was to impress Steve. And it was cute, you couldn’t deny. “How was work?”

You nearly collapsed in the chair across from Bucky and kicked off your heels. His eyes were burning a hole into you, but you kept your gaze fixed in the direction of Natasha and Steve; not wanting to look at him, afraid of what would happen if you did.

“Today was rough since we have that audit coming up.” You replied before taking a swig of your beer. “It’s nice to be home.”

“Amen to that,” Steve declared as he held his bottle up in the air.

You copied his movements and sat back in your chair with a sigh. The kitchen was filled with a comfortable silence, save for the sound of the water boiling in Nat’s pot. You ran a hand through your hair and finally looked up at Bucky who was glancing down at his phone. Your eyes skimmed over his features and you wondered how you had never noticed his freckles or the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled at something.

How could you have never noticed that Bucky Barnes was beautiful?

“Buck, did you find something for this weekend?” Natasha asked, breaking the silence and your stare.

“This weekend?” You questioned.

“Yeah, I thought it would be nice if we all went out and did something fun,” she replied. “You’ve been so busy lately, Y/N, and you told me that you didn’t have any plans this weekend, so I figured we’d go somewhere and let loose.”

“Oh,” you said quietly.

“They’ve got a band playing at Josie’s on Saturday night,” Bucky informed, as he looked up from his phone and met your eyes for only a moment before you averted your gaze to look at Nat.

“I’m always down for Josie’s,” Steve stated.

“Yeah, Josie’s sounds good,” Natasha added. “Y/N, what do you think?”

“Sure, Josie’s it is!” You replied with a nervous grin.

Saturday night came way, too soon. Natasha had texted you that she and Steve were going to be running a little late coming from dinner and that they’d just meet you and Bucky at Josie’s soon. Your stomach churned at the thought of spending any time alone with him, but it quickly turned to butterflies as you opened the door and saw him sitting at the corner of the bar.

He looked good. The sleeves of his dark sweater pushed up his arms as he brought the beer bottle up to his lips and took a drink. He noticed you and waved as if you hadn’t immediately spotted him the moment you walked in. He was hard to miss, after all.

“Hey,” he said as you reached the barstool next to him. “You want a beer?” You nodded and he motioned for the bartender to grab you a bottle. “Steve and Nat are going to be late.”

“Yeah, she texted me.” You told him. He nodded his head in reply and thanked the bartender when he placed the bottle of beer in front of you. “Thanks,” you told Bucky with a soft smile before pressing the bottle to your lips.

“You look nice tonight,” he mentioned and your cheeks began to blush.

“Thank you,” you replied. “So do you.”

“What?” Bucky’s face was shocked. “No smart ass remark?”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t start.”

The silence that fell over the two of you wasn’t awkward, but it wasn’t comfortable either. It was unlike Bucky to compliment you, and you figured he was just doing it to be civil, but that didn’t stop your cheeks from forming a light blush. You kept your gaze downcast, checking your phone every few seconds out of boredom. Bucky absentmindedly drummed his fingers on the marble countertop to the beat of the song and you noticed just how nice his hands were.

You talked about work, mostly. He asked about the audit, which you were surprised he remembered, and he boasted about his own work. The band started playing not long after that. They were good; a classic rock cover band that only played the hits. And for what seemed like the first time, you were actually enjoying spending time with Bucky Barnes. He had even asked if you wanted to move to the dance floor, and you did; dancing to song after song, drink after drink, you couldn’t remember the last time you had this much fun.

“Hey!” He called over the music. Bucky held up his phone to you, showing a text message thread from Steve, but at that point your vision was pretty blurry. “They aren’t coming.”

“Who needs them?” You replied with a smile. “You want another round?”

“I got it,” he replied and turned to head back to the bar.

You placed a hand on his chest to stop him, “I got this one.”

Bucky smiled at you when you came back with two more shots of tequila. “Cheers to pleasant surprises,” he said as he held his shot glass up to yours.

“Pleasant surprises indeed,” you replied before you downed your shot.

You both laughed at each other’s faces after you downed the sour liquid and sat your empty glasses on a table nearby. The band finished their last song and announced that they were going to slow things down a bit. You could feel the alcohol swimming in your veins as couples gathered on the dance floor to dance to some, old slow song.

Bucky held out his hand and you took it, not thinking twice about it. He pulled you in close to him, and you rested your head on his chest; eyes closing at the light scent of his cologne. You were thankful that Steve and Natasha didn’t show up; you weren’t sure how you and Bucky would have acted towards each other if they had. You could hear him humming along to the music and a smile made its way to your lips as you also began to sing along.

Before you knew it, the whole dance floor was loudly- and drunkenly- belting out the lyrics during the song’s chorus. As the song began to fade, people began to move off of the dance floor while the band announced they were going to take a break. However, you and Bucky were still holding each other closely as the bar began to play their own music in the interim. You looked up at him from your place on his shoulder and he glanced downwards and smiled.

“You want to get out of here?” He asked. His hands release their grip on your waste and you groaned inwardly. “I know a really awesome food truck that is stays open late, and cheese fries sound really good right about now.”

“I am not going to argue with that.” You said and reluctantly took a step back from him, knowing that it would be a good idea to eat something to hopefully save yourself the hangover that you knew you would have in the morning.

Once you had both settled the tab, you stepped out of the bar and into the cool air of the city. The wind kicked up, causing your hair to fly around your face as you looked out at the glistening lights of New York City in the distance. You could see Bucky looking at you out of the corner of your eye, he smiled when you turned to him.

It was quiet, save for the sounds of the streets, as you began walking along the sidewalk- side by side. Your arms brushed against the other every few seconds, and you began to relish in the warmth, even if it was only for a fleeting moment before he took another step. He broke the silence first, making a joke about Steve and Nat not showing up and you laughed. You were surprised by how easy it was to talk to him; opening up more and more, little by little. But then his fingers brushed against yours and you thought he was going to hold your hand. Suddenly, your story about falling out of the tree in Mrs. Johnson’s yard trying to rescue her cat was cut short, as your heart and stomach fluttered at the feeling. You glanced downwards wondering if he noticed your face blushing red, and bit the inside of your cheek as you tried to pull yourself together.

“So did you rescue the cat, or not?” Bucky asked, stopping on the street corner. You stopped too and looked up at him. His lips were pulled into a ridiculously attractive grin, and it was hard not to form a smile of your own.

“Of course, I rescued the cat.” You said with pride, rolling your eyes at him. “Wait a second,” you looked around at your surroundings as you realized that you had no idea where you were. And Bucky’s food truck was no where in sight. “Where are we?”

Bucky also looked around and chuckled. “Well, I thought the food truck was in this direction a few blocks down from the bar, but I am a little drunk and I may have been wrong.”

You sighed jokingly and pulled out your phone, “I’ll call us a ride.”

It didn’t take long for a cab to show up and the two of you slid into the backseat. You gave the driver the directions to your apartment and he pulled off, allowing a noticeable silence to take over. You looked over at Bucky who was glancing out the window, and when he turned his head in your direction, you quickly looked away, chewing on your lip. You kept your hands in your lap, mindlessly plucking at the hem of your blouse before sneaking another glance over at Bucky. His beautiful blue eyes were fixed on you, and you gave him a small smile.

There was so much tension in the air, it was hard to breathe. You silently thanked God as the cab driver pulled up on the curb outside of your apartment so that you could open the door and get some fresh air. There was something about the way that he looked at you that was unlike anything you had every experienced before. You knew, just from that one look, that he felt the same- and you weren’t sure how to feel about that.

“Thank you,” Bucky told the driver and passed him a tip. “Have a good night.” As the driver took off, Bucky turned to you.

“Well this is me,” you told him with a smile. “I’d ask you if you wanted to come up, but who knows what Steve and Natasha are doing up there since they blew us off.”

“Right,” Bucky laughed as he rocked back and forth on his heels.

“I had a really nice time, though.” You told him, not wanting to discourage him. “Who knew you were such good company?”

“There’s that smart ass remark I’ve been waiting for all night,” he laughed.

“Don’t tell Steve and Nat, but I’m kind of glad that they didn’t show up.”

“Oh yeah?” He asked, taking a tiny step towards you. “Why’s that?”

You also took a tiny step towards him and the gap between the two of you was closing inch by inch. “Because,” you managed to say whilst swallowing a lump in your throat. “I don’t think we would have had nearly as much fun as we did.”

“I’m glad you had a good time,” he said in what was barely a whisper as took the last step to close the space between you.

“Are you going to kiss me?” You asked.

“Do you want me to?” He replied, you could feel his breath.

You nodded and Bucky closed what little gap there was left between your lips. The kiss was soft and warm, and everything that you expected- but better. You could still taste the tequila and lime on his tongue as you explored each other’s mouths, and you gripped on to his sweater, pulling him as close as you possibly could. It felt like a long time coming, like you had always wanted each other, but weren’t able to admit it to yourselves. It was as if a weight was lifted off your chest.

And, quite literally, it was your dreams coming true.

You pulled back and caught your breath, smiling like a fool. “I, uh- Before I end up saying something really stupid and ruining the moment, I’m going to go.” Bucky smiled and shook his head. “But, just know I had a really great time tonight. So thank you for that.” You said as you backed away, almost running into the door as you turned around.

“I’ll see you later?” He asked as you pulled the door open and stepped inside.

“In your dreams, Barnes!” You replied, turning back around only to stick your tongue out at him and then disappear up the staircase.

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reidecorating · 3 years

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Request: “Being able to see you smile, being in your vicinity, just that is enough for me.” and “Uh, here, this is for, uh, you.” I’m thinking something Christmas-y with Reid - Anon

A/N: I do apologise for procrastinating on getting this out, but I wanted to make sure it wasn’t terrible. Merry Christmas to all of you who celebrate it, my present to you is the longest fic I have ever written. I had so much fun writing it so I hope you guys enjoy reading it! Happy holidays <3

Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAUFem!Reader

Word Count: 7.7k

Summary: Best friends yearning & best friends pining - but make it festive. Entails Secret Santa, the classic penny behind the ear and waltzing.

Warnings: Fluff, proceed with caution :)

The Cathedral of Santa Maria. Spencer had finally put his finger on it. The small glass dome encasing a building, with doors small enough to allow entrance to ladybugs who may practice religion, adorned unmistakable timely Italian architecture and ornamented pine trees, all dusted with flitters of snow. For the past week, Spencer had caught sight of the trinket each time he wandered past where it sat, as one of the few other decorations surrounding the name plate displaying in gold Times New Roman ‘DAVID ROSSI’, on the often unoccupied desk. So, he gathered that it must be important. Filing away his final stack of paperwork for the night, a silver paperclip glistening in the artificial light, Spencer made a mental note to ask the man about it the next morning. Standing from his usual office chair slouch, he stretched his limbs, feeling a series of clicks in his back as he regained his posture, only to bend back down in reach of his satchel. He made his way home giving tight lipped smiles of encouragement to the few agents sprinkled about the room, working over time. Haphazardly, he pushed the arrow pointing downwards with a cardigan clad elbow. As if on queue, his phone buzzed to the simultaneous ‘ding’ of the lift.

I understand you’re nocturnal, but I hope you’ve gotten home by now! If not, text me when you do so, safely :)

He didn’t realise he was grinning from ear to ear until an aggravated looking bureau member from a floor above, evidently itching to get home, cleared his throat to gain Spencer’s attention. “Sorry,” he grimaced. Noticing the button for the ground floor having already been lit up, Spencer stepped inside and stood as far away, as was possible in the small space, from the rankled looking man and his briefcase. A dimple appeared on his cheek as he remembered you, two years, three months and seventeen days ago - not that he was counting - offering him cherry scented hand sanitiser from a small bottle, and, only after he’d nodded, gently grasping the tips of his fingers to steady his shaking hand as you poured the gelid liquid into his palm. The act was so pure he chose against telling you that while alcohol based hand sanitisers reduce the number of microbes on hands in some situations, they don’t eliminate all types of germs - making soap and water the most effective way to go. Since then, you occupied his thoughts in the same way ivy grew along bricks of long forgotten towers. In abundance, in the most beautiful way. He turned his attention back to the tiny mobile he was holding.

On my way right now. I have a date with microwaved leftovers at midnight, can’t miss it. Will do.

The next time his phone buzzed was when he’d dozed off on the way home, using the concave pane of a metro window as a shoulder to lean against. He waited until his feet landed on the uneven pavement of his stop to open it.

Tomorrow you have a date with a properly cooked meal, at mine. What is it that Hotch always says? That’s an order, not a request.

Spencer’s heartbeat quickened as he read what you had written, his brain immediately carrying variables in an effort to slow it down by convincing himself that friends make each other feel this way. However, when he counted the rose flush on his cheeks and nose whenever you were around, the looks you shared which said more than words ever could and the way you held each other nearer than the distance between the sky and the ocean where they met at the horizon after close calls and mentally grappling cases, it didn’t quite equate to being just friends. Dwindling leaves clinging to their branches shuddered as scissors of winter wind pruned the trees scattered about. Spencer’s pale hands slid into his coat pockets, hiding from frostbite. On the short walk to his apartment, he admired the twinkling lights on either side of the streets, feeling as if he were a plane which had just landed upon a runway in the night. Candy canes, reindeer and eccentric portrayals of Santa Claus glowed amongst bushes and on porches, making Spencer wish you were there to see them too. It wasn’t rare he found himself wanting to share everything he did with you. Pretty things made him think of you. Eventually reaching the familiar building, tiredly, he followed wreaths and holly all the way to his undecorated apartment door.

You? Cooking? I’ll bring a fire extinguisher. Home safe. Goodnight, sleep well.

He kept his promise, despite seeing the time was nearing to one in the morning and being doubtful you were still awake.

Hilarious :/ and I will, knowing you’re alive. Goodnight Spencer :)

Spencer coveted for nights when he could tell you goodnight from right beside you, perhaps with his hand draped around your waist while yours tugged at his hair. He wanted to fall asleep to the scent of your skin and whatever soap you’d picked up from the store that week, not the quiet hum of his vintage fan. His microwave beeped, acting as an alarm to return down to earth from the clouds, presenting him with far less than gourmet potatoes. Realising he would take your burnt cooking over this any day, he settled for a sandwich.

∗∗∗

“Did you know that snowglobes were invented in France. They were first introduced as ‘water globes’ at the Paris Expedition Fair in 1889, and, to no surprise, the first snow globe actually contained a tiny scaled Eiffel Tower covered in snow,” Spencer lectured, almost putting the two agents who had struggled enough to get out of bed, back to sleep. The days were slow. Annual leave for a majority of the bureau was looming nearer and files kept them busy as the jet gathered dust. “Glad to hear the French contributed something, other than their opprobrium of a language, to this world,” Emily complained, from her desk. “Well, baguettes… Croissants, parachutes… Aspirin-“ Spencer was halted by the unimpressed look on Rossi’s face, as he hovered on the edge of Spencer’s table, a bushy eyebrow raised in vexation. “What’s with all this talk of snowglobes, kid?” The older man squinted at Spencer, craning his neck towards this, the way he did to suspects behind the glass of an interrogation room. “Since you brought it up,” he smiled smugly, swivelling in his chair from one side to another. “What’s the story behind the Santa Maria sitting on your desk?”

“Yeah, the eighties have come and gone, Rossi, isn’t it a bit late for repentance?” Emily let out a sly smile, walking over to also lean against Spencer’s desk with a steaming mug in hand. “It was a gift from my grandmother, handmade, I take it out every Christmas to help get in the festive mood,” Rossi explained. “Also, that was very funny Emily but now… I can’t help but recall what Garcia told me about the time you got a little tipsy and licked peanut butter off J-”

“No one told me it was National Congregate Around Spencer Reid’s Desk Day today.” The three agents turned their heads in unison to find who the voice belonged to, Spencer’s breath hitching at the sight of you. You stood before them, an upturned magician’s hat in hand, semi-curious as to what the ending of Rossi’s sentence would have been if it weren’t for you interrupting. “Y/N!” Emily waved, flashing a smile. “You’ve taken an interest in magic and didn’t even think to tell me,” Spencer feigned a hurt look. “Spencer, I knew magic wasn’t for me after I did the card trick you taught me, wrong . Six times,”

“It was seven. Plus, the student is never as good as the teacher,” he suppressed a smile. “Or maybe the teacher just isn’t good,” you raised an eyebrow at him. “That’s a little hostile, someone didn’t get enough sleep last night,” Spencer defended himself, putting his hands in the air. His eyes held a glimmer of mischief as if to say ‘we know something that you don’t’ when they met yours. Emily’s jaw dropped. “That… Didn’t sound suggestive at all,” Rossi pursed his lips in concern, looking back and forth between the pair of furiously blushing agents. “Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t,” you winked at Rossi. Basking in the radiance of your laughter washing over him like the sun, Spencer chuckled along. “Anyway, what’s with the hat?” Emily questioned. “This,” you shook it by its brim, “contains the remaining names for this year’s Secret Santa, courtesy of Miss Penelope Garcia. I was just ordered to present it to you all. She calls it being her ‘little elf’ - I call it unpaid manual labour - but pick a name, any name,” you encouraged. You watched as Spencer’s tongue comically poked out as he eagerly concentrated on picking a name, elbow bent at a worrying angle. “I just want to say that every time I get a gift that isn’t alcohol, I’m slightly disappointed,” Emily turned to you as it was her turn to fish for a piece of paper. “I’ll keep that in mind,” you grinned at her. You watched Rossi’s expression as his eyes skimmed the name in his hands. “Oh, and Rossi, yes, there’s a budget,” you called over your shoulder, causing them to laugh as you gave them a wave. Slinking away from the comity of the bullpen, back to Mrs Claus’ lair, you retrieved the only remaining name. You paused in the hallway to double check if you’d read the glittery scrawl correctly. Spencer Reid. It was just your luck. You were prepared to engage in hand to hand combat with Garcia, seeing her office looming ahead. “Penelope. I hate you. I love you,” you kissed her cheek, placing the top hat on her curls, “but I hate you.” She recognised the tone, beaming at the implications. “Thank me later, beautiful!” She called after you as you rushed away to get started on completing the mountains of reports you had been avoiding thus far.

The day had come to a close, a headache making a home for itself in your head. Scanning the, now, mostly empty room, you caught sight of the back of Spencer’s uncombed head. Double checking that not enough people were around to be reprimanded by HR for misconduct, you inconspicuously made your way over to him snaking your arms around his neck and burrowing your nose in its crook. “Hi,” he chuckled, amused at the sudden affection, his unoccupied hand immediately reaching to grasp one of your wrists. Spencer had followed your strict, but coffee induced, orders earlier that morning telling him not to distract you unless, one, he was dying, or two, something was on fire, because you were determined to finish the numerous write-ups you had left until today. “Hi,” you mumbled into him. “Ready to go home?” You asked sweetly, arms still slung around him, pulling your face away to get a glimpse of his soft features. Your heart stopped for a little while, at the beauty of him. He was breathtaking. You refrained from tracing the small bump of his nose with your own, and settled for admiring the five o’clock shadow presaging a hidden jaw. The part of Spencer that craved domesticity was enchanted by your simple question, the word home resounding in his head, acting as an old film reel for projections of images of the two of you together; leaving work together, going home together. Little did he know that, as if through an unnoticed telepathy, just a few inches away, the same images occupied your own head. Coming home to an empty apartment had become tedious. You allowed yourself to give into your daydreams of returning home to Spencer - with Spencer. Spencer, with his warm eyes and words that drip like syrup from his tongue. You wanted nothing more than to revel in him filling your senses once the cologne from the day had been washed away, and hear him harp on about the history of mattresses, attempting to retain questions to ask him later in your memory bank, as you capitulate to sleep. “As a matter of fact, I finished most of what I had to do last night so I am ready to go… home,” he tested out the word, to which you had assigned a brand new connotation, feeling a flutter in his chest. You quickly rescinded your arms as you peripherally detected a flock of agents returning from what you assumed was an afternoon break. Spencer suddenly missed your body on his. Having already packed your things, feeling accomplished noticing that the pile of folders on your desk had shrunk significantly, you packed Spencer’s things to save him time, aimlessly throwing the strap of his satchel over his head for him once he had ungracefully shoved his arms into a blazer. “Hang on,” you gently pulled at his shoulders to meet your height, carefully fixing his tag and creased collar. The blush on his face, at the feel of your cold fingers brushing the nape of his neck, said everything he didn’t - save a meek, “Thank you.” You smiled at him in return. “Wait,” his eyes widened, “I need this,” he mumbled, reaching into the bottom drawer of his desk, pulling out a large black bag, decorated in gold intricacies. He didn’t explain it, but you knew that if Spencer had something to say, he would come out and say it, just all in good time. “Now are you ready?” You eyed the thing curiously, and glanced back at him. “Let’s go,” he motioned his arms in front of him, with a small nod, letting you lead the way.

Afternoon rays of sun fought their way through clouds, battling with the winter air to warm the people mingling outside as you made your way towards the crowded station. “Penny for your thoughts?” You asked, intuitively slipping an arm through his when the sun began to disappear altogether. Your cheeks grew warm as you realised your compromising position, feeling your heart rate return to its usual pace once he relaxed into your touch. “Hm?” He turned to look at you, letting his river coloured eyes unabashedly scan your face. “You look like your mind is far away,”

“What’s on my mind is definitely not very far away,” he said, quietly. That glimmer had returned. You noticed that the crease between his brows had disappeared, indicative that whatever thoughts were rattling through his brain, were good ones. You hummed a smile, content with his contentedness. “So… Hand it over,” he extended a palm a second later. “Hand what over?” You asked, genuinely confused. “A penny,” he said as if it was obvious. You blinked up at him, unfazed by the joke, as he bit his lip provokingly. All of a sudden he stopped walking, eyes still on you. “Just… Hold on a moment,” he whispered, squinting at you as he reached a hand towards your cheek. You remained still, thinking that Spencer had finally lost his mind. “Here it is!” He exclaimed, breaking out into a smile as he retrieved a one cent coin from behind your ear. “What!? You’re kidding! That was brilliant,” you beamed at him, eyes wide in bewilderment. “For a second there I thought you had gone crazy,” you teased. “Magic does that to people,” he nodded, satisfied with how impressed you seemed. “Ah, but alas, you gave me a very ambiguous answer, so I,” you snatched the penny from his fingers, “am entitled to a refund.” Spencer shook his head with a soft smile. “You might need to use that for the bus if we miss the next train,” he informed, hurriedly examining the watch on his upturned wrist.

No trains were missed, that day, the two of you arriving at your door in time for the six o’clock news. “Here, let me take your coat,” you offered, putting it on the small rack beside the door, placing yours adjacent to it. Spencer relished in the warmth of the place, setting his things down. “So, I’m thinking we get a proper meal in us, and then you can help me decorate this dreary place,” you instructed. He wanted to let you know that anywhere you are is far from being dreary, but something told him that was far too sappy, so he settled for a simple, “Sounds good.” He took in the familiar apartment, its walls embellished in old paintings snagged from secondhand stores and books scattered about on almost every horizontal surface, in a certain disorderliness that said, yes it’s messy, but everything has its place. “Also, I hope you know that you’re only leaving in the morning so make yourself at home.” It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for the two of you; you falling asleep at his apartment out of feebleness, him at yours, and more often than not, it involved discarded games of Scrabble as the two of you settled for debating the rules instead of actually playing. Lately, he’d been craving it more and more - and so had you. Spencer would never say no to that offer, but he was taken aback. “But I didn’t pack- I don’t have-“

“Eidetic memory is slipping I see,” you giggled at his flustered state. “I told you, I kept finding toothbrushes, sweaters and socks here every time you left, so I made a drawer full of your things, since you practically live here anyway,”

“An entire drawer? I didn’t think I was missing a whole lot,” he responded, nose tinted red. “I have to water my plants quickly, before I put dinner on, but feel free to shower,” you said, still laughing quietly. “Let me help cook, first. You need someone to disassemble the smoke alarm,” he raised an eyebrow at you. One ‘KISS THE COOK’ apron and half an hour of seasoning a chicken, spilling sweet potatoes and bumping elbows later, the two of you stood back from the counter, you boasting to Spencer about how nothing had turned to ashes, and him pointing out that the oven hadn’t been turned on yet. Soon after, you put the oven on high, humming an indistinguishable carol over the shower that could be heard running from the next room. A warm, tingling feeling overcame you.

By the time you had showered, Spencer stood serving - a well timed and flawlessly cooked - chicken, wearing mitts matching the baggy flannel pyjamas keeping him warm on top of the open oven. “Smells good,” you complimented, slightly startling Spencer. He stood at the small wooden dining table, mouth agape at the sight of you. He was sure his heart was a puddle. “I like your sweater,” he praised. You glanced down slightly confused, shortly realising that your sweater, with its much too floppy sleeves, reaching a little way above your knees, was actually his. “Oh, I’ll wash it and give it back to you at some point,” you said shyly. “I was wondering where it went, but don’t worry about it, the colour looks nicer on you than it does on me,”

“Nonsense, you know that’s not true.” Soon enough, you found yourselves digging in - not before you expressed your gratitude towards food that wasn’t charred for the first time in months. You sat across from each other, your reindeer sock clad feet occasionally tapping his beneath the table. Spencer’s heart was full, marvelling at you from where he sat, wishing this could be something he could experience forever, much preferring it over a stale sandwich. You watched him intently through your eyelashes, chin resting on your interlaced hands while he taught you about how the thalidomide scandal emerging from Germany led to safer drugs in the pharmaceutical industry, the lecture prompted by an article he’d read recently. It continued into getting the dishes cleaned up, his rambling only being interrupted by your intermittent questions which incited further tangents, or requests to pass the tea towel. His voice was a ruffled silken sheet, on which you would like to lay for eternity. Admittedly, you found it difficult to focus on retaining any more information than the odd date, due to being too focused on the way his lips moved to form every word he said, hopelessly enamoured by the overly enthusiastic expressions he made to match the tone of what he was saying. Eventually, he wandered towards the living room as you stacked away the final plate, butterflies still spurring in your stomach from when his fingers brushed yours as he handed it to you.

“Spencer Reid effortlessly navigating technology, Christmas miracles really do exist, huh?”

“Actually, I just remembered watching you choose music, instead of paying attention to the road, that one time you drove me to work,”

“I was most definitely paying attention,” you huffed out a laugh, slightly bashful at the thought of him remembering small things you do. “You hit the kerb four times! That was the day I vowed to never let you transport me anywhere,”

“I see your argument, and I raise you with the counter argument: the kerb hit me.” Sitting with his back against the couch, legs sprawled out over the rug beneath your coffee table, Spencer couldn’t hold back his laughter. After watching you disappear into the kitchen, he busied himself with reading the holiday edition of Reader’s Digest laying on the table. He recounted you telling him that you had accidentally drunkenly subscribed to it, and never bothered to cancel the subscription, the first time you’d caught him reading an issue. You emerged a short while later, with drinks in both hands. “Bonjour monsieur, on tonight’s menu, we can either open this Merlot or, drink Capri-suns like the sophisticated adults we are. Your pick,” you said, hiding the juice pouches behind your back and noticeably waving the bottle of wine in front of you. “I have a feeling it isn’t my pick,” he let out a laugh, “so just fill a glass with enough Merlot for two,” you were on your way to get a glass before he had the chance to finish. “Your wish is my command!” You called. Spencer put down his magazine once he saw you rushing towards him with a large glass of wine in hand. “Of course you opt for Christmas Jazz over Mariah Carey,” you teased, hearing the music he’d queued floating from the withering speaker in the corner of the living room. It was the kind of music that would play in the diner of an expensive hotel, you noted. “I can change it if you’d like?” He began reaching for your phone, when you halted him by grasping his arm. “No, it’s good, I like your taste.” Spencer grinned sheepishly, taking the glass from your hand as you sat down beside him.

Hours of conversation and decking the halls with tinsel later, with wine flushed cheeks and twinkling eyes you moved the furniture to cater for your very own dance floor. Carefully, Spencer placed a hand below your ribs, touching you like new glassware, lacing the other with yours. Your unfettered hand, replaced the weight of the world as it rested on his shoulder. You recognised the look on his face as he settled into the close proximity, it was the same look that painted yours when you admired him whilst he failed to notice. The soft glow of a lamp illuminated the man you held, making an indistinct halo of golden light appear above his unkempt hair. “I apologise for any damage caused to your feet,” you giggled, struggling to find a rhythm. “Here, follow my lead,” he looked down at your feet. “The Waltz?” Dazzled, you raised an eyebrow, a few seconds after recognising the box-like steps in unison. Spencer tried to focus on anything but your lips, glistening in the dull light, so close to his. “Mhm, I’m not exactly the most co-ordinated-”

“You don’t say?”

“That’s tough talk for someone I’ve seen fall up a flight of stairs,”

“That sounds made up, but as you were saying,” you laughed into his chest. “It’s simple because its a repeating pattern. Did you know that name of the dance comes from the German word waltzen, which means to turn, or to glide? Some say the dance itself comes from the folk music and dances of west Austria, but others debate that it’s a variation of the Volta, from the 16th century,”

“Interesting, makes sense to debate that though. I’m pretty sure volta means ‘a turning’ in Italian - although that’s mostly in reference to the turn of a new thought or idea in sonnets… I’m thinking of Shakespeare,” you chimed in. “Sonnet one-hundred and thirty being a classic example of that,”

“Of course you would know that,” you shook your head in awe, cheeks hurting from grinning too wide. The incandescence of the smile that hadn’t left his face all day was mesmerising, the honeyed expression tied together with the dimples on his cheeks and creases around his eyes. “What would you like for Christmas?” He mumbled, lifting a moment of peaceful silence. “If you pulled my name out of the hat today you’re going to have to be a lot more subtle than that,”

“Unfortunately not,” he pouted. “Don’t tell anyone I told you, but I have Rossi,” he whispered the words into your ear, neglecting that no one else was around to hear. “What do you get a man who already has everything money can buy?”

“A new wife,” you joked, causing him to scoff. He studied your visage as you pondered his earlier question, still swaying to the soft piano sounds. “Honestly Spencer, being able to see you smile, being in your vicinity, just that is enough for me,” you finally answered, tilting your head up at him. Spencer thought his knees would give way. He thought his knees would give way, and he would hit the ground with enough impact to implode through the earth’s crust. In reality, he only stumbled over his feet momentarily, regaining his composure before you noticed him slowly becoming unhinged. “If that’s the case, I wish I’d picked your name,” he managed to utter, breathlessly.

The music which continued to play was drowned out by the sound of steady breathing, you were too caught up in each other to pay attention to the world. Wordless, you looked into his eyes, his actions parallel to yours. “You look beautiful right now,” he sighed. “Of course, you always look beautiful but, you know.” You shook your head, refraining from averting your eyes from his. He wished you believed it, promising himself to never abstain from letting you know until you saw yourself the way he did. “It’s funny you say that, because I was thinking the same thing. About you of course,” you rushed out the last part, realising the potential for miscommunication. “I love seeing you happy,”

“Well, as long as you stick around, you’ll be seeing a lot of that,” he spoke lowly, on the verge of telling you about all the things he felt for you. You hadn’t realised, but you had unconsciously moved closer together. You could feel his warm breath on your skin, lighting a fire inside your lungs, as he took yours away. Spencer saw all of the signs; the signs that this was not usual for a friendship. Maybe, if it weren’t for his defeated battle with fear, and doubt, he would have told you by now that he had fallen desperately for you. Spencer knew there wasn’t a drop of insincerity behind any of the kind words you spoke into him, he understood that you were his person, but he found it difficult enough to comprehend that someone could feel this strongly for someone. So, the implausible idea that someone could feel this way about him, was one he was not even prepared to entertain. “Y/N? I, um,” he tried, wearily. You gave him a soft smile, both tired arms laced behind his neck now as his rested on your waist. He dropped his sword. Once again losing the fight against his unreasonable insecurities, changing his mind at the last second. “I need to give you something,” his demeanour changed and he vanished from your line of vision. Your heart sank, hopes of hearing him say that the love you had for him was requited, fallen. Before you got too lost in your head, he emerged from the doorway with the same black bag you’d been inquisitive of. “Uh, here, this is for, uh, you,” he tucked his lip beneath his teeth. “Spencer…” you trailed off as he handed it to you. You sat yourself on the carpet, patting the spot next to you for him to join. “I thought I should give it to you now, since I’ll be in Vegas for Christmas,”

“Spencer, you really didn’t have to-“

“Go on, open it,” he ignored your humility. You gave him a look as you opened it - it being replaced with a look of elation as you realised what it was. In your hands, you held a scarf, long enough to hit the floor, striped in all your favourite tones. “I had to ask my mom for help with the tassels, but-“

“You took the time to make this? For me?” You exclaimed. Without thought, you draped it around his neck to tug him closer to you, throwing your arms around him in a tight hug. “This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me, thank you so much,” you lauded, refusing to let go of him. “I think it was last winter, we were walking back to our hotel in Minnesota during a case, and you insisted that the both of us use my scarf to keep us warm, because you didn’t have one,”

“Ah, I remember that, except it ended up being one of the top ten worst disasters in U.S. history due to the height difference, and we both ended up falling face-first into the snow,” you giggled, recalling the way you had used up most of the hotel’s hot water afterwards. “Exactly,” he matched your expression, “seeing as you still haven’t bought one for yourself, even though we lose eighty percent of our body heat through our head and neck, I thought I would take matters into my own hands,”

“Well, I love it. You’ll have to tell your mother I said thank you and that I’m sending my love,” you finally dropped your arms from around him, out of fear of crushing his shoulders.

Once the zeroes had lined up on the twenty-four clock, Spencer sat where he usually resided on your bed, ardently admiring you as you folded away his gift. “Wait! Spencer close your eyes! Please!” You squeaked, immediately shutting the cupboard doors, realising your unwrapped present for him was hidden within. “Y/N? Is everything alright?” He asked, eyes now sealed shut. “I didn’t want you to see what I’d bought for Secret Santa,” you let out, too exhausted to form a coherent excuse. “We only got those names today - well, yesterday, now - so how did you manage to-”

“Shoot,” you cursed to yourself, knowing his unintentional profiling would lead him to the conclusion sooner or later. Spencer’s eyes slowly opened. “Okay, let’s say if, hypothetically, I had intended on giving you something for Christmas anyway, but then drawn your name today, would you, hypothetically, be able to act surprised when you receive it from me at work?”

“Hypothetically speaking, I would?” He squinted at you, stifling laughter. Your hair was slightly messy and your drowsy eyes were visible to Spencer even without his contacts in. He thought you just looked so adorable, wanting nothing more than to hold you and share your warmth. “Anyway, come to bed,” he beckoned, his voice gravelly, giving way for the day. Obliging, you shuffled towards your bed before sliding your cold feet beneath the covers. Spencer turned to face you, resting his cheek on an upturned palm. “Sorry for ruining the surprise,” you whispered, tucking the duvet under your chin, bright eyes looking through him. “You didn’t ruin anything,” he assured, treasuring the sight before him. There had been a shift in the air between the two of you. Spencer held the wine accountable, but he could sense that you felt it too, a level of intimacy that you had not quite reached during previous nights like this. “Come closer, I need to exploit your body heat while I can.” Spencer listened to your instruction, inching nearer to you, his heart rate so high he was sure you could feel it when you nuzzled your head into his chest. “Goodnight,” you felt his chest rumble. “Hang on, the night isn’t over yet,” you mumbled, “talk to me,”

“About?” He asked, amused by your grit to avoid sleep. “Anything you want,” you yawned. “You’re sleepy,” he stated, coaxing you into getting some shut eye. When you tilted your head up and continued to blink at him, he gave in. “Have you ever wondered why a lot of our most vulnerable conversations happen at night?” You nodded in response. “Well, a study done by the University of Colorado a couple of years ago concluded that natural light from the sun actually regulates your circadian rhythm, or internal biological clock, which standardises your sleep cycle. According to their study, this sleep cycle coincides with sunrise and sunset, meaning that if you regularly expose yourself to sunlight, your body enhances its internal clock to align more closely with the natural light cycle,”

“Based on that,” you contended, words slightly jumbled, “our circadian rhythm would vary between seasons, right? And yours would be different, since you’re a literal vampire, to say... someone who surfs down in Florida because of disparity in sun exposure?”

“Precisely,” he raised his eyebrows, “I’m impressed you’re still paying attention, you look like you’re already dreaming.” Spencer nudged your forehead gently with his own, causing you to breath out a laugh. “Alright, so how does all of that relate to being more vulnerable at night?”

“It relates in the sense that the rise and fall of the sun reflects in our physiological, as well as emotional behaviour. During the day, we’re a lot more active, and at night, we become more relaxed and receptive. Hence, since your mind is at ease, all the thoughts and emotions that might have felt jumbled up during the day become clear, making them a whole lot easier to express,”

“Mhm,” you managed, eyelids growing heavy. “Do you… have anything to say now,” you whispered drowsily, eyes now closed, “that you can’t say during the day?” Spencer couldn’t handle it anymore. He was already so fond of you but as his hand settled to rest around your waist, feeling your warmness, he believed his ribs could collapse from the way he felt inside. As you dozed off, gradually, winter became less cold in his arms and dreamscapes of his tea leaf eyes. “And, she’s asleep,” he whispered, minutes after silence, into your hair, “but to answer your question, yes,” his lips planted a chaste kiss on your forehead, “I love you.” Of course, unbeknownst to him, you weren’t asleep just yet.

∗∗∗

A couple of days went by, and as more time went on, the less certain you became as to whether Spencer had really even said the words, wondering if the whole thing was just a fatigue driven hallucination your lovesick mind had conjured up. Waking up beside him the next morning however, tangled in a warm cocoon of cotton and limbs, had left you feeling giddy, smiling like a fool with heart shaped eyes as he attempted to feed you the waffles he’d made - which the two of you gulped down far too quickly than sanctioned, to avoid being late for work. When you didn’t succeed, and the clock had beaten you by ten minutes, you both wrestled past evocative looks from the rest of the team for the remainder of the day, JJ even singing something about the two of you ‘sitting in a tree’ . The soft, shared, smiles and light brushes of fingertips when he handed you coffee in the mornings left you wanting to concede; let him know that you would walk on burning coal for him, the more logical side of you reminding you that professing your devotion to him over an open case file consisting of a double homicide, three days before Christmas, was far from ideal. Spencer wanted the kind of love only the poets could express. This had become evident the evening you took him to a midnight screening of ‘Un homme et Une Femme’. You recalled leaning into him to translate, catching sight of his welling eyes glimmer in the dim lit theatre. Believing his love should be celebrated, you decided to withhold the unsurfaced feelings a little while longer.

Later that week, you all gathered around the BAU tree, a small framed picture of Derek decidedly hanging from one of its upper branches after Garcia had to be heavily persuaded, and eventually bribed, to not place it at the top, arguing “But he’s my star.” Spencer snuck behind you, subtly placing a hand on your back to glide through and place Rossi’s gift under the tree. “I want to let you know that I’ve been practicing my ‘surprised’ face in the mirror,” he discreetly whispered against your neck, making you roll your eyes. “Okay super sleuths, I know we’re all itching to fly away for a break, but hold your reindeer, because we are yet to kick off our annual Secret Santa,” Garcia excitedly exclaimed, shuffling in with two large sparkling bags. “I thought there was a budget?” Rossi quirked. “Yes, sir,” she looked smug, “for you.” The team shared smiles at Rossi’s perplexed look. “So, who wants to start us off?” Garcia chirped. With that, the festivities were under way. You held tight an abnormally large heat sensitive mug, which you were sure would also reveal a promiscuous image once warm - a gift from Emily, who gave herself away by insisting it would help your caffeine dependency - watching as the others tackled ribbon wrapping paper. You threw an impressed look Spencer’s way, that glint of knowing something the universe doesn’t returning to your eyes, when Rossi opened a small portrait of what looked to be a Venetian cathedral, the Santa Maria to be exact. Once the banter and excited chatter had died down, everyone turned to the recipient of the final gift, neatly labelled Spencer Reid, enveloped in brown paper and tied with deep purple ribbon. Penelope looked as if she were about to pass out. Spencer’s shifting eyes landed on JJ as she mouthed a small ‘you’re up’, causing a smile to tug at his lips when he eyed you gazing at him with the soft look he adored. Your eyes lingered on his hands as they swimmingly untied the mauve knot and tore open the paper to reveal a large leather-bound journal. He examined the old looking thing, trailing his fingers along the convoluted golden details of the artistic interpretation of a moon calendar adorning its umber covers, partially covered by thin leather straps. His mouth was slightly agape, shaking a little at how well you knew him, clumsily catching the matching novelty pen before it slipped out of the wrapping and onto the floor. You had picked it up at a forlorn occult shop after it had caught your eye while looking out of place as it lay surrounded by large crystals. Knowing in an almost divine way that it should belong to Spencer, you had bought it. He couldn’t help but look at you briefly, communicating a silent gratitude. “This is amazing,” he ogled, “I love it.” Your heartbeat was in your throat. He was yet to find out you’d filled the first page for him.

Shouts of Merry Christmas, long hugs and season’s greetings were thrown around the room before, one by one, everyone slowly bade their goodbyes. While helping JJ clear away torn reds and greens of gift wrapping, you caught sight of Spencer, ears and cheeks scarlet, with his nose buried in his new, opened, journal.

“We are asleep until we fall in love," you looked up from Leo Tolstoy’s one thousand page book and recited to me, once. Since you walked into my life, I’ve been wide awake. You know that I’m never far away, but this is for the days you need to let out some of what you hold in, without saying it aloud.

I love you too, Spencer.

Spencer read and re-read the words until he was sure he could recite them like the Lord’s Prayer. It was commonly Spencer who remembered small details and remembered paltry quotations, but this time, it was you. Sitting in the glow of the afternoon sun, one October, he had been reading War and Peace, and couldn’t help but share the line with you as you sat across from him, chewing through a much smaller number of pages and reading a collection of poetry. The woman he had been so captivated by, admiring from afar that day - and all others, felt the same way he did. In disbelief, he began breathing manually. Making sure he was deciphering the cursive lettering correctly, he scanned the page again. While his eyes were definitely not deceiving him, they remained glued to one word. Awake. The havoc caused in his heart by the train of thought hitting him so brutally, rivalled only Gare Montparnasse. You must’ve heard his confession nights ago. It was the only explanation for the ‘I love you, too’. You most definitely were awake. Profiling tendencies overcame him. With his basic background of graphology, he could make out that the last line had been written in fresher ink than all the others, confirming his hypothesis. For the first time in a while, his mind was quiet, the uncertainties which fought to float in, unable to make their way through as if the thee simple words you’d handed him were a barrier for them. He needed to talk to you.

Walking quickly towards the elevator, an overwhelming wave of anxiety crashed over you. You had subconsciously been avoiding Spencer for most of the evening, second-guessing whether or not you’d heard him correctly, whether he’d even meant the words in the way you’d interpreted, wondering what you would do if this friendship were to ever end. However, a more hopeful side of you contended to quiet those thoughts. He had to feel it too. There was no room in which you hadn’t shared a longing look. The feather touches, and dancing. So badly did you want to believe that he thought this too. A slender arm appeared through the closing elevator doors, tugging you back to reality, causing you to jump before quickly pushing the open button. “Spencer! You could’ve lost an arm!” You yelped. “It’s okay, I have two of them,” he huffed. He avoided your eyes for a moment, before inhaling half of the oxygen in the small lift and turning towards you. “I wanted to say thank you, for this,” he held up the book, “it’s gorgeous, and sort of… exactly what I needed - and not just the book itself but what you wrote… inside it,” he nervously looked at you. “Did you- do you mean what you wrote?” His tone of voice syringed into you a drop of hurt. “Spencer, I never want you to think that I don’t mean it,” your let out in a shaky voice, gently grasping his elbow. You visibly saw his body ease, a smitten smile replacing the lip being chewed at. His throat bobbed as he gulped before he spoke again, heartbeat in his ears. “I want you to know that I’m in love with you, Y/N. I don’t want you the way I want a best friend, I want you in a-” he sighed, clenching and unclenching his fist trying to find the words, “I want you in a way that means I want to fall asleep beside you, and wake up to you the next morning, for as long as the sun rises. I want you. I want you - no, need you, the way the tide needs the moon to rise and fall, I want you-” he swallowed, furrowing his brows at his feet, “I want you, like this.” Hazel eyes fluttering shut was the last thing you saw. Large hands lightly caressed your face, one travelling behind your ear, brushing your neck to delicately tangle in your hair. After years of wondering, you finally knew what his lips felt like on yours. His nose bumped yours lightly as you tasted his soft lips, their slight chap reminding you that winter had kissed them first. Your hands wrapped around his wrists, before one settled on his tilted jaw and another hid in his chestnut hair. He felt warm, everywhere you touched setting electricity through him. Even after you pulled apart, his arms remained on either side of your face, holding you like you were fragile. His breath fanned over your face, as you shivered, the fluttering in your stomach unsubdued. The elevator had long reached the ground floor, causing the two of you to bashfully laugh concurrently. You thought to yourself that Spencer’s crimson flush and wide grin was a sight you would lose sleep to gaze at. “All this time, I’ve been missing out on that,” you teased, watching him shyly bite his lip as he waited for you to say something else. “I’m very glad you said all of that because I’m very much in love with you, Spencer Reid, and, if you’ll let me, I want to love you, the way people love in all the books you’ve lent me,” you told him. At that, he was sure his heart was yours, fearlessly. So, making afternoon plans and debating which train to take, neither of you really caring as long as you were in the other’s company, you finally stepped out of the elevator, oblivious to the mistletoe that was hanging within it, but more than mindful of what was to come.

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benedictscanvas · 4 years

Text

objectively - spencer reid x reader

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: none that I can think of unless you hate fluff (you monster)

A/N: My first Spencer Reid! I love this man so very much. Requested by @justkurotingz who I think is such a wonderful writer so I really hope I’ve done this justice! :)

---

It smelled like coffee and business. Keyboard tapping and idle chatter. There were teenage girls with elaborate concoctions to be sipped through straws, men in suits ordering espressos to go, one particular women taking an ungodly amount of time in the line to choose a cake for the weekly catchup with her friends.

You didn’t mind as much as some of the men in suits shaking their head in the line. Her friends were laughing at her and nudging them and the whole debacle only made you smile. There was nowhere else in the world you had to be, which was a rare feeling to be savoured as much as possible.

So you waited patiently as they made your drink and people watched along the way. A little boy with a slice of cake that he definitely wouldn’t finish. A man with a scarf half wrapped around his face trying to wrestle with the sugar container whilst also talking to someone on the phone. A woman on her phone in the corner. You frowned at that one. If she just looked up, took in the sights and the smells that surrounded her, she might not be sighing every two seconds before her acrylic nails began an incessant tapping on her screen.

“Y/N?”

You stepped forward and claimed your drink with a grateful nod, turning to the counter to put a little more sugar in it yourself. But clearly, you must’ve turned too quickly, because before you knew it there was hot coffee all over your arm and splashing onto the floor as you bumped straight into something solid with a gasp.

It took you a few moments to register the pain in your arm, but when you did, the person you’d bumped into was already grabbing napkins frantically and pressing them to your arm, mopping up as much of the burning liquid as he could as he rambled.

“I am so so sorry, I didn’t even see you I was on the phone and I must not have been concentrating,” he stopped and you finally looked up at him from your arm. It was scarf and sugar guy. He still hadn’t looked at you properly, focused on cleaning up your arm even though he was speaking into the phone propped between his ear and his shoulder now, “Shut up, Morgan, I didn’t even see her...I’m hanging up.”

He did just that and shoved his phone in his pocket. A disgruntled employee mopped up the spill on the floor while he had spoken. Suddenly he seemed to realise what he’d been doing, that he’d been cleaning up your arm without even asking. You felt stupid. You’d been just staring at him dumbly for such a long time, shocked into stillness by the burning and the sudden accident. But also, by some strange yet overwhelming urge for him to look up at you.

He sheepishly moved his eyes up to your face, biting his lip with worry like he was expecting you to scold him, or maybe even scald him with the little coffee remaining in your cup. Instead, you were standing there, looking at him. His eyes, specifically. You hadn’t seen them when you glanced over at him earlier. Now, it was like you’d become obsessed in a matter of seconds. One little moment. Sometimes, that was all it took.

You shook your head and tried to hide your embarrassment with a smile.

“What are you talking about? It was completely my fault. You didn’t get any on you did you?” you asked, checking him over. When you looked back up at him in his silence, you noticed he was still looking at you, a look in his eyes that meant it was your turn to bite your lip until he recovered himself.

“N-no, no I didn’t, it tipped your way,” he said nervously. He hurried threw the napkins he’d been patting your arm with in the bin and turned back to you, “Can I buy you another?”

“Oh no, I wouldn’t dream of it,” you said easily, waving him away and trying to ignore the heat of your arm.

“Please?” he asked, taking you off guard with how earnest he sounded, “My coworker now knows I bumped into a woman and he’ll never let me hear the end of it if I don’t make it up to you somehow. It’ll only add to his opinion that I’m hopeless around the opposite sex, which may be a somewhat accurate opinion, but I’d rather not give him more reason to-”

“Hey, hey,” you said soothingly, stopping him from his rant in the hopes that he’d take a breath, “I could really do with my morning coffee, if you’re sure you don’t mind.”

He let out a long overdue breath and, for the first time, he was smiling at you, this small shy smile that felt ridiculously infectious. You smiled back at him as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and willed yourself to pull it together, following him to the back of the line. Even from the back, scarf guy was too attractive for his own good. You rolled your eyes at yourself before he turned back around as you waited in the queue again.

“I’m Spencer, by the way. And you must be-” he ducked his head to read the name on your cup, “Y/N?”

“That’s me,” you said brightly, “You’re sure you don’t have somewhere to be?”

“I always leave myself at least an extra half an hour in case the line’s too long or something, so I’m fine. What about you?”

“A rare day off,” you mused with a smile, “The feeling of having literally nowhere to be is one of my favourites.”

“It is a pretty nice feeling,” Spencer said wistfully, as if he were just guessing that and you frowned.

“You don’t get much of that?” you asked and he tilted his head at you. You shrugged shyly, “I just mean, the way you said it. Didn’t sound like you really knew what that felt like.”

There was that look in his eyes again. The one you thought you might recognise but didn’t want to name, because you’d only become more bashful than you already felt.

“I suppose I don’t. I work for the FBI, in the Behavioural Analysis Unit. It can be...intense.”

“Wow,” you said seriously, looking at him with newfound awe, “That’s amazing. I’m so impressed with everything your team has done. You work under SSA Aaron Hotchner?”

His brow furrowed and he made that little confused face that you were already enamoured with.

“Yeah I do. You’ve heard of us?” he asked, looking a little more wary now, and you realised that most people who said that probably didn’t have the best intentions with the guy. You chuckled as you lifted your cardigan just a little.

“Don’t worry, I’m a cop,” your badge shone from its place on your belt before you let your cardigan hang over it again, “You helped one of my friends from back home with a case a while back. She said you lot were the best and from everything I’ve seen since, she was right.”

His blush was prominent as he stared at his shoes, scuffing them against the floor, but you didn’t grin like you wanted to, not wanting him to think you were teasing him.

“We just come and help where we can,” he mumbled, “Nothing special.”

“You know, Spencer,” you said sincerely, making him look back up at you, “If I had to guess, I’d say you were pretty special.”

He paused, still looking at you. Silence. You worried you might have said the wrong thing.

But then, a grin.

---

“...and that was the moment I fell in love with him,” you said finally, glancing from the people around the table to Spencer beside you who was staring at you with that same look from that day in the coffee shop, which you now knew to be awe and adoration all rolled into one. You smiled at him, leaning further into his side as you squeezed his leg.

“I can’t believe you guys have never told us how you met before,” Garcia sounded like she was caught up in the dreamy romance of it all and you couldn’t help but laugh at her.

“I knew!” Derek cut in with a sly little smirk directed at Spencer, “Only because later in the day I asked pretty boy why he hung up on me.”

“Derek, I don’t think-”

“You know what he told me, Y/N?” Derek continued, ignoring Spencer’s attempts to cut him off as you leaned forward excitedly, “He told me that he’d met, subjectively, the most beautiful girl in the world. That it was love at first sight.”

“That is not what I said-”

“Okay, well maybe not those exact words, but it was words to that effect, right Reid?” he said teasingly and Spencer was blushing, looking down into his lap. You put two fingers under his chin and brought his face to yours.

“Subjectively?” you asked, eyebrows raised and he shook his head.

“He’s got the words wrong, because he’s an idiot,” he directed his last comment with a side eye at Derek that had the whole table laughing, before whispering so only you could hear, “I said objectively, the most beautiful girl in the world.”

“Should hope so,” you murmured, grabbing his tie and leaning in to kiss him. You had to pull away quickly when the chorus of ‘aww’s and groans sounded out around the table and reminded you where you were. You chuckled and smoothed down his tie.

“You two kids are going to make each other very happy,” Dave chimed in from the head of the table as you rested your head on Spencer’s shoulder and looked around the group and the soppy smiles on their faces as they stared at you and Spencer. You knew they were happy just to see him happy. Most of them had come up to you privately to have conversations about how good you had been for him. It was all you could want, “To Spencer and Y/N!”

“To Spencer and Y/N!”

Everyone cheered, raising their glasses to you both and you had to fight down a tear or two. Spencer reached for your hand, entwining it in his own and brought it up to his lips, kissing your ring before resting both your hands in his lap as the conversation around the table continued.

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

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feeling-weirdy · 3 years

Note

A fluffy prompt, as a break from all the angst! Wanda has a nosebleed? Bc fretting/anxious Vision is really quite endearing, and I can imagine him being the sort of partner who would be catastrophising and wanting to do anything possible to stop it, even if it was actually caused by something quite minor?

TW; mention of blood? I guess? nosebleeds?

“Wanda, I-” Vision turned the corner, walking in through the door to her bedroom to find her hovered over a strange machine next to her bed. Purified air shot up from the nozzle, spreading a thin mist throughout the rest of the room. Wanda had herself hovered over it, allowing the air to envelop her face. “Are you alright?”

“Huh?” Wanda sat up, a dazed look on her face as she sniffled. “Oh, I’m fine. Sorry, I thought I had closed the door...I just had a nosebleed.”

“Your nose bled?” Vision crossed the room with large steps, lifting her face gently with his fingers as he inspected the area. Her face seemed to be in order, nothing out of the ordinary jumped out at him other than the small red liquid trailing down her nose.

“Yeah...It’s the humidity and the air and the-” Wanda sighed, knowing her explanation was nowhere going to be good enough. “I’m sorry, it’s just really gross. It happens, rarely, but...I just have to sit with the humidifier for a few minutes and hope it goes away.”

“Allow me.” After learning the intensity of human sickness and the many varieties of it, Vision had quickly spent a good deal of time on how to properly care for those who fell ill. While this wasn’t exactly a sickness, Vision knew how to help her take care of it.

Vision knelt in front of her, gently pulling her face in his direction. Despite the awkwardness of their meeting, it was hard to ignore how warm her cheeks turned as he held her there for a moment. He forced her to lean forward slightly, tilting her head even more so.

“W-what are you-” Her eyes widened as he pulled her forward, her lips parting as she watched him.

“Just trust me,” Vision retorted, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he focused on his actions. Placing his thumb and index fingers on opposite sides of her nose, Vision pinched carefully forcing Wanda to open her mouth to continue breathing. He chuckled softly, pushing the soft part of her nose towards her face slightly. “I have to stay like this for a few minutes, but it should help stop the bleeding.”

“And where exactly did you learn this?” Wanda smirked, trying to keep herself still. Clearly a difficult act with how fast he could hear her heart beating.

“The internet is a curious place. I hadn’t expected there to be so much useful information.” Vision said quietly, situating himself in a more comfortable position. “Though...I think I prefer books.”

“You’re not the only one,” she snorted. A hush settled between them as Vision kept his fingers around her nose. The red hint never left her cheeks as the two sat dangerously close to one another. His eyes trailed down to her lips, two pink puffs sitting delicately just below the place he held. This hardly seemed the time to kiss her, but he couldn’t help but think how beautiful she looked even with the small streak still falling from her nose. The thought had certainly entered his mind before, but the tension that seemed to develop between the two of them always gave him pause. Their relationship had undoubtedly deepened since their first meeting, but to push it to that next step...

Vision cleared his throat. “Just so you were aware...” He started, desperate to find something different to talk about besides where his mind had been heading. “Your humidifier helps prevent nosebleeds, not cure them. You should probably be turning it on before you fall asleep if you suffer from these regularly.”

“Ah...well, I guess that’s why it never really worked, huh?”

“I’d say so,” he chuckled softly. His attempt at moving the conversation along faded, inviting the calm quiet to fall back over them.

Wanda’s eyes fell, her blush fading from her cheeks the longer they sat like this.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t exactly expect you to do all this.” Her words were quiet, barely a whisper as she peeked over at the still open door. She must have really wished she had closed it behind her. Not that a closed door would have stopped him.

“Wanda, I am here for whatever you need.” Catching her attention, Vision smiled at her. “I’m not human and therefore cannot be nauseated if that is what troubles you. You have nothing to worry about.”

Wanda’s face fell, pushing her lips together pensively as she remained silent for several moments. “I wish you’d stop talking about yourself like that.”

“I speak only the truth. I don’t see why it shouldn’t be said.” Vision spoke plainly, curiosity surging within him. Her face always contorted in such a fashion whenever he breached the subject of what he was. He never could quite understand why it seemed to trouble her. The fact remained true no matter how upset she became so worried about it seemed like a waste of time. Yet here she was.

Wanda paused, reaching a hand out to trace the lines in his face with a delicate touch. Her warm fingers ran along the coolness of his cheeks, sending a strange sensation to well up in his cheeks.

“Because you’re more than that and you know it. I’ve told you that before.” Her fingers dropped from his face, gripping onto her arms as she forced herself to remain still.

Vision sucked in a breath, stopping himself before the question breached his lips. His interest in her answer got the better of him, however, pushing the query forward. “Does my being not being human bother you?”

“Absolutely not,” she stated without hesitation. The hitch in her voice caught her by surprise, but the concern that shown on her face remained constant. “You’re Vision. That’s all that matters.”

His head cocked to the side. “Then why does the revelation bring you so much concern? Wanda...” Using his free hand, Vision placed it on top of the tight grip she had formed around her elbow. “I am a synthezoid. I can try to be human until my systems shut down, but I could never obtain that goal. I’m curious as to why that truth upsets you.”

“There’s more to being human than what you think."

“Please elaborate,” Vision requested. Wanda remained silent, chewing on her bottom lip as she scanned the ground for answers and came up empty. Once it was clear he wasn’t getting an answer, Vision let go of her nose. Inspecting it one last time, he smiled once more before pulling his hand back. “I believe enough time has passed. Your nose should be fine now. How do you feel?”

“Much better. Thanks...” She trailed off, gripping her hands. Without meaning, he had upset her. Guilt settled within his chest as she struggled with the answer to his question that never seemed to come.

“Wanda, I-” Vision started, immediately getting cut off by her sudden hop off the bed.

“I should probably clean this up. Could you hold on just a second?” She trotted off to the bathroom, quickly closing the door behind her. Even from the bedside, Vision could hear the sink turn on, water running down the drain, and splashing against her nose and face. Pushing himself to his feet, he walked over to the humidifier to turn the knob causing the mist to fizzle out.

After a few moments, the water shut off and Wanda walked back into the room. The look on her face told him she wanted to continue their conversation, but no words came to help her flesh out her thoughts.

“I should probably get going,” Vision finally said, making his way back to the door.

“Vision. Wait.” Wanda grabbed onto his arm, stopping him mid-step. He turned, forcing them face to face once again.

The distance between them closed in, leaving them with nothing else to do but gaze into the other’s eyes. Despite the countless amount of research he conducted as he spent time with her, Vision discovered he still had many difficulties in trying to understand her. He had hoped with time that those instances would be made clear, but the complications only became...complicated.

The fact that Wanda saw him as something more gave him a great sense of pride. Their companions saw him as a tool to be used, but Wanda...somehow saw him as an equal. Almost human. An intriguing notion that never really crossed his mind outside of her outbursts.

Vision watched her carefully, only being met with her cerulean gaze. The disappointment in herself for not having the answer he wanted was evident. Perhaps he had overstepped his boundaries upon asking for more information. Yet, he couldn’t help but want to prod her mind. She was the most intriguing human he had come into contact with and he absolutely wanted to know more.

Finally breaking eye contact, Wanda looked down, fiddling with the edge of her shirt.

“T-thank you,” her quiet voice filled the space between them creating a tension that the pair had become all too familiar with. The corner of his lips tugged upward as he nodded.

“Of course.” His chest tightened as he walked out of the room; his curiosity only growing with each moment.

Check out my other drabbles here or feel free to request some!

#scarletvision #wandavision #the vision #wanda maximoff #rini drabbles #AoU to CW #this was such an interesting challenge but I'm so glad I stuck it out #I did not expect something so strange to turn into something so freaking sweet #it kind of got away from me #not sure if people need TW for a nosebleed but I figured just in case

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avmisworld · 3 years

Text

TXT when you’re sick:

Yeonjun:

"Hey, baby, I made you food." You blink slowly at the sound of your boyfriend's gentle voice before the sentence fully sinks in your mind and you furrow your eyebrows, sending your boyfriend a suspicious glance.

"You?", you ask, swallowing down the bile in your throat as you focus your bleary eyes on your sheepishly-smiling boyfriend, his pink hair falling over his eyes cutely and a plastic bag in his hand, the content hidden from your curious eyes.

"Well, I ordered the takeout. And made the chamomile tea.", Yeonjun says with a shameless grin as you snort silently, watching as he walks towards you slowly, careful not to spill the steaming liquid held in his free hand, before placing everything on the small, round table in front of you triumphantly.

You can't help but smile when you peek inside the bag, seeing your favorite sushi rolls from your favorite restaurant in Seoul, snuggly placed in a foam container. Too bad your stomach felt like it was melting into your ribs.

"Thank you, baby.", you mumble, sending Yeonjun a grateful, albeit tired, smile, before sinking back into the couch, your limbs not able to hold you up for more than a few seconds without starting to tremble.

"You have nothing to thank me for. I'm just making sure you don't die from starvation.", Yeonjun says sarcastically, sending you a blaming look before sitting next to you, pulling the fuzzy gray blanket tighter around your frail body.

You try to roll your eyes at your boyfriend's dramatic antics, but a coughing fit overcomes you before you manage to say a word, forcing your body to hunch up, your boyfriend staring at you worriedly, rubbing your back soothingly with a warm hand until you calm down.

"Here, let me feed you.", Yeonjun says, the tone of his voice much softer now, all playfulness gone as his caring side becomes apparent. You nod weakly, knowing that no amount of arguing will get you away from eating this time, and let Yeonjun open the container of food, the sight of the colorful rolls managing to pique your interest slightly.

You feel so grateful for your boyfriend right now, your heart melting at the way he feeds you carefully, making sure to give you moderate bites and checking up on you every few minutes as the two of you watch a random drama playing on the TV.

"I love you", you say, avoiding your boyfriend’s shining eyes with blushing cheeks, and he seems genuinely surprised for a second, knowing you're usually too shy to say these things out of the blue, before he smiles widely, his eyes loving and teasing as one when he says: "Are you talking to me or to the sushi?"

Soobin:

"Aish, I told you to take a coat yesterday.", Soobin sighs, shaking his minutely as he presses another wet towel to your forehead, his eyes big and worried despite the frustration lacing his voice.

You smile weakly, finding your boyfriend's attitude adorable like always, even when he was supposedly angry at you. Or more specifically, at your sickness.

"It wasn't even that cold yesterday, Binnie.", you mumble, cuddling even more into the thick white blanket, and your boyfriend raises his head at your words, glaring at you cutely as if he couldn't believe the audacity you have to answer him.

"Yet here you are.", he states dryly, crossing his arms at you, and you sigh, knowing there's no point in arguing with your boyfriend. The only reason he scolds you is because he hates it when you get sick, it makes him anxious and sad.

"Can we cuddle?", you ask timidly, raising your head to look at your lover, who's grabbing another blanket to cover your shaking body. It seems like even with the furry Minnie mouse pajamas, the two huge blankets covering you and the wool hat covering your head, you can’t stop the chill in your bones, goosebumps covering your pale skin.

Soobin's eyes soften immediately, the worried crease between his thick eyebrows fading slightly, and he smiles gently, adding the black blanket in his hands to the slowly growing pile on top of you, before nodding. "Of course, sweetie."

You scooch into the couch, leaving a rather wide space between the edge of the cushions and you, and Soobin doesn't hesitate to climb into the scorching heat, wrapping his arms around you tightly and tangling your legs together, his breath a warm wind against your cheek.

"Damn, it's like an air fryer in here", your boyfriend huffs, burying his nose in your hair, and you laugh, feeling your eyes flutter shut as you finally start to feel warm, your boyfriend's presence doing wonders, heating you from the inside, the love you feel for the blue-haired boy beside you making the cold disappear slowly, the only thing left the sound of Soobin's soft humming in your ear. "I want to be your nap so I can dream with you…"

Beomgyu:

"Why can't I come~~", Beomgyu whines, the huge pout on his lips the only thing you can see on your phone screen, and you sigh, shaking your head at your boyfriend's childish antics.

"Because I'm sick, Gyu. I don't want to pass it on to you.", you say carefully, talking to your boyfriend as if you were talking to a tantrum-throwing child, which he was, at least to you.

Your boyfriend clearly isn't satisfied by your answer, the frown on his face growing even more, and he backs away from the screen slightly, revealing his straight blonde bangs and dark eyebrows, furrowed over his big brown eyes.

He looks like a mad puppy, especially with the adorable blue-colored hoodie he was wearing, the sleeves falling past his fingertips, and the matching gray sweatpants, the loose material making him seem smaller than usual, despite him being much higher than you.

"Please? I promise I won't get close to you. We'll sit in different rooms if you want", your boyfriend says, throwing you his best puppy eyes, hands clasped in front of his chest tightly.

You know you should say 'no', for the sake of Beomgyu, especially since the two of you know that there's no way you can stay away from each other, definitely not if you're literally in the same space. But you just can't get yourself to disappoint your loving boyfriend.

You close your eyes momentarily, knowing you lost this game, before opening them to look at the boy on the screen, his eyes hopeful as he awaits your answer. 'Just this once', you think to yourself.

"Fine, but don't come crying to me after you catch some virus!", you say, trying to sound threatening, but you can't help but smile when Beomgyu cheers loudly, his fist pumping the air excitedly, before he sends you a kissy face, not even listening to you. "On my way!"

Later, when you and Beomgyu are cuddled on the couch, you can already envision him coming back to your apartment a few days later, whining about how he doesn't feel well, and you'll take care of him like always, never really able to hold anything against him. But now, in Beomgyu's warm embrace, his lips leaving small kisses along your shoulders, you can't help but feel content.

Taehyun:

You wake up to the sound of soft humming, a voice you know all too well singing softly beside you, your eyes fluttering open slightly at the beautiful sound.

Judging by the sunlight streaming through the window, it must be around noon, which means that you've been sleeping for more than twelve hours since you stumbled into your bedroom yesterday, after throwing up in the bathroom again.

You're still wearing the same red hoodie and black leggings you wore the night before, and you still feel horrible, your body begging you to go back to sleep and not move an inch from your place on the bed. Your dark is messy, falling over your eyes in small curls, and you feel pale, like the natural light in the room was streaming through you instead of on you.

"Good morning, love. Did I wake you up?", You sit up when you hear Taehyun's voice, closer than before, and then he's sitting next to you on the bed, one of his hands coming up to curl around your inner thigh, stroking the soft skin under his fingertips gently.

"Hmm", you stifle a yawn, not having the energy to get up and greet your boyfriend properly, but you manage to send him a weak smile, lifting your head to press a kiss to the strong arm beside you. "Sort of. But waking up to your singing is the best way to start the day, so no worries. When did you get here?"

Taehyun runs a hand through his maroon-colored hair, the gleaming strands falling over his face attractively, and even that simple action takes your breath away momentarily. "Yesterday. You were already passed out by the time I got here.", he says with a gentle smile. "How do you feel?"

You sigh, not wanting to worry Taehyun too much but also not wanting to lie to him. "Better than yesterday. But still not very good.", you admit, wincing when your stomach clenches painfully, as if someone punched you in the gut.

Your boyfriend stares at you for a second, his eyes attentive like always before he gets up abruptly, making you stare at him with confusion as he exits the room, immediately missing the warmth of skin against yours.

Taehyun comes back a few seconds later, carrying his favorite fuzzy blanket that you always steal when you sleep over at the dorm, a porcelain bowl filled to the brim with steaming soup, your favorite candy bar that he always carries with him 'just in case', and a small medicine bottle.

"Luckily for you, I came prepared.", he says with a victorious grin, sitting back next to you as you shake your head, baffled and touched simultaneously by your boyfriend's organized and responsible behavior. "You're unbelievable."

Heuning Kai:

"My head hurts~", tears prick at your eyes as you press a hand to your head, trying to make the throbbing pain in your skull disappear as your boyfriend looks at you with a pained expression, his mouth set in a pout as he watches you sniffle.

You aren't a crybaby at all, but you hate being sick, hate not having any control on your own body, so it's one of the rare times where you let the salty drops slide down your soft cheeks, the exhaustion and fatigue catching up on you.

"Oh, princess.", Kai says gently, moving forward to hug you in his arms, not caring less about getting sick himself as he presses gentle kisses to your shoulders and neck, his lips flitting over the exposed skin until you finally let out a quiet giggle, the light ministrations tickling you.

You can practically hear the way your lover sighs in relief, his body sagging slightly more into the couch, more relaxed now that he managed to make you smile, and he pulls the blanket covering the two of you, wrapping it even tighter around you, until you look like two human burritos.

"What movie do you want to watch?", your boyfriend asks, looking down at you with those soft brown eyes, his black hair parted in the middle perfectly, the shiny locks framing the sharp angles of his face.

"Something funny", you say, leaning your head on his shoulder tiredly, and he hums, flicking through the different movies until he finds one he likes, clicking on the remote with a satisfied 'ah!'.

The two of you start watching, your boyfriend making sure to keep his arms around you the whole time, leaving occasional kisses to your cheeks, his hands rubbing your hip-bones soothingly.

He gets up in the middle to fetch you some snacks from the kitchen, making sure to get you your favorite kind of cookies before plopping back down on the sofa, gathering you in his arms immediately.

Heuning Kai always has the ability to make you laugh, loves seeing you happy and smiling more than anything else, and you know he's doing everything in his power to make you forget about the pain in your body, making funny comments about the plot and imitating different scenes with surprising talent.

Nobody can really be sad next to Heuning Kai, and when you cuddle into your boyfriend even more, watching the ending credits roll on the screen absentmindedly, your eyes drooping as sleepiness fills your body, you can't help but feel lighter, like some of the sickness in your body disappeared thanks to the ray of sunshine beside you, and you leave a gentle kiss to his shoulder. "Thank you."

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zuffer-weird-girl · 4 years

Text

So this is majority one of the parts about the Chisaki family I created. Nothing much...

'Catch on the act'

It's been eight months already... eight months that you had a son with him. Your little Chisaki Kaito.

Kaito was majority of the time a really quiet baby but it was already considered like a rare jew on the yakusa house. Heavens know how Pops pampers this toddler. But try to get this baby out of your arms, this kid cries like someone is hurting him badly.

You always talked with the little boy and played along with him, while Chisaki seemed majority of the times pretty hesitant about even touching his son, but thankfully he was warming up to the toddler.

Guess the fatherhood was slowly getting to him.

So that's why you were laying on the floor along with your baby, holding a picture of his father pointing constantly at it, trying to make the little boy to say his first words.

"Pa-pa. Kaito baby look! It's daddy! Da-da!" You pointed while the kid only cooed reaching for your nose instead.

"No no." You picked his chubby hand and gave a raspberry emiting the most adorable laughter of him.

"No stealing mommy's nose. I need it. But your nose is mine." You made the cliche movement of pretending to steal his nose, which the baby widened his eyes for little before going to check if his nose was still there.

The baby seemed now irritaded, furrowing his eyebrows just like his father and scooted his way to you babbling some incoherents words.

"Oh sorry! No, I didn't caught your nose!" You laughed as you picked now the laughing little boy as you pressed little kisses on his chubby cheek.

"It's incredibly fascinating to see that neither of you got tired of each other."

The voice of your lover echoed in the room as you looked from the floor to marvelous golden eyes staring down at you with an eyebrow lifted up.

"Welp. He can't get tired of his own parents, now can you?" You pressed his chubby cheeks together and gave him even more kisses.

He smirked behind his mask and shook his head in disbelief.

"Get out of the floor. Its dirty in there and I don't want both you and the brat to get sick."

You got up with you baby on your arms, pouting mockingly as you rocked Kaito in your arms.

"You see how daddy is worried for nothing? Daddy is worrieeeed." You singed in hope that Kaito would say at least the word.

For your dissapointment he only cooed again.

Your husband rolled his eyes in false irritation as he crossed his arms with a sigh.

"Isn't time for this rascal to be asleep?"

"Don't call him that my knight." You took a look at the clock and sighed.

Another day with no success on getting Kaito to say his first words...

"Lets put him on the bed together then?" You asked, looking up at him sweetly. He only nodded numbly at response and followex right after you to the baby boy's room.

One good night kiss from yours and a pat on the head from Chisaki was already enough for Kaito start to yawn and goes to dreamland.

If he didn't get any of those he wasn't going to sleep. Chisaki catched that pretty quickly, and started to call him a brat right there.

You both left the room and went to your shared one to have at least a good night of sleep for once.

What? Think parenting is easy? Poor innocent.

You ended up falling asleep on the comfort chest of your lover and feeling his carefully covered fingers scratching your scalp.

Kaito cries was what woke him up on that night. He opened one of his eyes and looked down at your exausted self and furrowed his eyebrows.

You were always the one getting up... let him at least retribuit the favor. He only could pray that it wasn't a dirty diaper... only if this was the case he would woke you up.

He placed you carefully down on the bed before he dragged his feet to the infant's room.

"Hey... what's all that noise for?" He murmured while pulling the door slightly to block the noise.

The baby cries stopped immediately when he heard his father's voice, he looked up and saw golden eyes staring him down.

"What is wrong?" He murmured, smirking slightly when the baby made one grabby hand at him while the other put his inside of his mouth.

"Disgusting little thing..." he said more affectionately than he planned as he leaned slightly on the crib with his arms crossed.

"It was nothing, right rascal? You just wanted to call your mother." The baby giggled up at him which he only scoffed.

"Then I guess I should go then." He got not even a inch away from the crib before the little one started to whine and pout.

"Seriously?" He asked numbly in disbelief "What do you have to offer then?"

Kaito manage to balance himself on the crin as he standed his little hand at his face.

Kai let out a unamused chuckle as he mindless played with his fingers touching slightly the baby's much smaller ones.

"Do you have any idea how much you and your mother changed my life? When I had your age I didn't get that luck of yours..."

His eyes focused on his front but he still continue his actions with his gloved fingers.

"... I didn't believe in love brat... I didn't actually believe those stupid things even existed... until your mother came and just barged into my life bringing those... emotions to my soulless self. It's incredible actually. How such a angel like her... could even fall for a devil like me..."

The baby stopped his movements, looking up at his father in... worry.

"When I first saw you on the ultrasound... I let my only solution to find a cure for this world go... I... just couldn't look at her anymore before feeling that sick feeling on my stomach... imagining you in her place instead, and the look of your mother if she ever get the knowledge about it..." he chuckled bitterly, bringing his free hand to his hair.

"I got the news that she was adopted... they will treat her way better than I ever did... and that worries me to death, because... this just proves that I don't deserve neither the sweet and warm embrace of your mother or your laugh..." he felt the disgusting warm liquid slide down his cheek as he gulped down air.

"I can't say I ever was or even am normal... but your mother is just... incredibly beautiful, intelligent and pure and I just think, why on all heavens such a good person as her, accept even being with someone like me, and even dared to have a child with me either..." he let out one or two more tears before he felt a tiny hand gripling his gloved one, catching his attention completely now.

The baby looked up at his father with wide and teary red (E/C) puffy eyes as his bottom lip tremble a bit.

He scrubbed his tears away in disgust as he saw that he just had broken down in fromt of his eight month old son.

"Apologies Kaito, I shouldn't had vent like th-"

"Dada."

His heart stopped and his eyes widened as he looked down in shook at his son who was making grabby hands at him.

"What did you just...?"

"Dada!" The baby say it again extending his arms at Chisaki who only widened his eyes even more.

"This is... holy f-" he stopped dead on his tracks when he noticed he almost cursed out loud.

He hesitantly picked Kaito up and hold him, looking in front of his eyes as the baby gaved him a teary smiled while repeating his first word.

"See what I mean? New feelings you and your mother always insist on bringing to me... goddamnit Kaito..." he whispered trying to hold back his own tears as he holded closer the infant.

Chisaki suddenly jerked up thinking out loud.

"Your mother... forgive me for this my angel but you have to see this." He said mlre to himself before making his way out of the room, with a new feeling of anxiety in his chest.

You almost tripped on your own feet in your run back to the room where you layed down and pretend to be asleep while you rubbed some tears from your own eyes.

You had felt his absence in bed and ended up catching his little vent on the final part and some tears escaped, but what really breaked you was hearing your baby finally saying his first words and exactly the ones you were planing... and the way your husband had reacted was just priceless.

You felt the bed shifting a little and you holded your giggles back as you heard Kaito's babbling and Kai's hushes for only now for the baby to be quiet.

You felt a gloved hand carres your shoulder and shake you a little bit after hearing the shaky voice of your husband.

"Angel. Sorry my love but please wake up." You turned to be in front of him slowly with a dreamy smile but eyes still closed.

"What is it?"

"Open your eyes. Kaito just said his first words." You couldn't help but giggle at noticing the so out of character eargness and happiness coming from his voice.

"Say it brat. Come on. Don't pretend you didn't say it just a few minutes ago. It's an order." The baby giggled

"Dada!"

You laughed while some tears fell as you saw the happy aura that both of yours favorite boys were emiting.

"See? Dada. He say it father first angel. Can you believe it?" He said while handing Kaito to you, whose eargly snuggled in your embrace and cooed happily.

You pushed your husband's mask down to give him a kiss, catching him out of guard apparently since he let out a tiny gasp. You ignored Kaito's whine and little pushes as a try to separate you two and only broke the kiss after a few minutes later.

"What... what was that for?" He asked while putting his black surgeon mask on, more to hide his blush than anything.

"Kai." You layed your head on his shoulder while you hughed your already calmed down baby closer. "Thank you. For everything my handsome devil."

He lifted an eyebrow up while looking at you, trying to ignore the burning warmth on his cheeks.

"For what exactly? This was too out of the blue."

"Shut it and just accept my gratitude would you?" You sleepily mumbled, smiling down at your yawning little baby as he snuggled even closer to your chest.

"Did you just tell me to shut up?" He asked in irritation, noticing shortly after you had closed your eyes.

"(Y/N) I know you're not sleeping. Answer me." He pocked your arm "Hey." He whisper yelled, with no success.

He scoffed before accepting his fate, and laying down on the bed, letting the warmth of your bodies lull him to sleep.

#overhaul x reader #overhaul scenario #fanfic overhaul #overhaul #chisaki kai imagine scenario #chisaki kai x reader #kai chisaki #chisaki kai #bnha imagine #bnha x reader #bnha characters #bnha villains #bnha #my writing #zuffer writings #kaito chisaki #kaito baby boi

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athingthatwantsvirginia · 4 years

Text

An Orwellian Nightmare

PART THIRTY-SIX OF THE DO YOU SEE HER FACE? SERIES

Pairing: Jess Mariano x Original Character (Ella Stevens)

Warnings: discussions of parent death, teenage drinking, anxiety, and depression, please read with caution, plentiful pop culture references

Word Count: 6K

Summary: Ella and Jess go to Rory's graduation party, then return to the bridge.

A/N: The descriptions of depression in this chapter and in this fic are based on research and my own experiences. Everyone is different. If you need to talk, I am always here.

“The door itself is worth more than everything we own.” Jess gawked at the large mahogany door of the famed Gilmore house.

“Welcome to the realm of the one percent,” Ella replied, smirking as they stood hand-in-hand facing the entryway. Beyond it, she could hear the faint sound of classical music and polite chatter. “I don’t hate it, though. It’s got kind of a Great Gatsby thing going on, don’t you think?”

“Maybe. But I think it’s more like Dracula.”

“Hm,” she nodded, lifting her eyes to see the pillars on either side of the door. “Wuthering Heights?”

“Oh yeah,” Jess agreed. “That sounds right.”

“Get ready, then, Heathcliff,” Ella quipped, ringing the doorbell.

Jess scoffed. “Ready as I can be, Catherine.”

Not more than a moment later, the door swung aside to reveal a woman in a maid’s outfit in the sprawling foyer. Behind the maid, there were groups of well-dressed people, mostly older, milling about with martini glasses in their hands, sugar on the rims. Though she couldn’t quite be sure, Ella thought it was Mozart playing from somewhere farther inside, live on a piano. It sounded fine, but she had always preferred Beethoven. The lesser of two evils, she had taken to calling him. Before even stepping beyond the threshold, she could see at least two chandeliers gleaming in the yellowish lights. She tugged Jess along by the hand, stepping up and into the house.

“Good evening,” the maid said.

“Hi,” Ella said, smiling at the small woman with black hair and dazzling brown eyes. “This is Rory Gilmore’s graduation party, right?”

Jess chuckled behind her. They’d gotten a bit lost on the way up to Hartford. The plan had originally been to follow Luke’s truck, but he had decided against going at the last minute. He wasn’t sure if Lorelai would really want him there. Instead, they had followed the less than legible directions Luke scribbled on one of the diner napkins. Luke rarely remembered street names, using mostly landmarks. The drive would have been easier if it wasn’t already near dark by the time the party started.

“Yes, ma’am,” the maid answered formally, holding a hand out to Ella. “May I take your bag?”

Furrowing her brows, Ella looked down at her large black purse, the only one she owned, and then back up at the woman. She hadn’t been expecting such a question, instead thinking she’d either carry it with her or stumble upon a coat rack somewhere. “Oh, sure. Thank you. That’d be great...sorry. I didn’t catch your name?”

The maid looked equally confused as she took Ella’s bag from her. “Helen.”

“Okay, Helen. I’m Ella,” she said, sticking out her hand for Helen to shake, tilting her head in Jess’s direction. “That’s Jess. We’re Rory’s friends.”

Jess nodded in greeting at Helen, biting back a laugh as the maid shook Ella’s hand with a disconcerted expression.

“Enjoy the party,” Helen muttered, then turned on her heel and disappeared into the crowd behind her.

“I don’t think you were supposed to introduce us to the maid,” Jess chuckled as Ella led him through the sea of people to the left, revealing a large sitting room with an open bar.

“Who cares what we’re supposed to do?” Ella shrugged, stopping in her tracks as she began to search the room for anyone she knew. “Rory used to tell me her mother fired a maid a week. Figured she might need at least one friendly face tonight.”

His smile turned warm and his face lost its amusement as he regarded her for a moment. Her hair was back in a low bun, shorter pieces framing her face. She wore a dress bought special from Goodwill for the occasion, a black bodice and a skirt of lavender tulle. On her feet, the same black leather ballet flats she had owned since high school. Somehow, they hadn’t begun to fall apart yet. Beauty in her usual, hasty variety. She didn’t look exactly comfortable, but she looked like herself, fitting in so well simply because she wasn’t putting anything on. He disentangled their fingers and brought his hand to her freckled cheek instead, catching her lips in a kiss.

For a moment, Ella relished in the feeling of the butterflies in her stomach. But then, she remembered the buzz of the socialites around them and the mission at hand: to find Rory and congratulate her. She pulled away from him with a smack! and blushed immediately.

“Jesus, James Dean. Wait until we’ve got a smaller audience,” she snapped, though there was a smirk playing on her mouth. She was glad to only be wearing chapstick. Most of the makeup she was the dark smudge of smoke around her eyes.

Jess only shrugged, nonchalant and smug. “We’re the other half, Daria. They don’t expect too much from us.”

She rolled her eyes. Before she should retort, though, a woman with heavily styled brown hair and a glittery pantsuit approached them. Thankfully, it didn’t take more than a few seconds for Ella to recognize her as Rory’s grandmother, Emily Gilmore, who she’d met only once before. Back when Ella was still working at the diner, Rory had brought her grandmother for a tour of the town. Ella remembered how odd the chunky white sneakers looked on Emily’s feet, as she had also been wearing a stuffy, expensive skirt set and some Chanel No. 5.

“Ella! How nice to see you!” Emily received them, her voice raspy and pleasant.

Regaining her composure, hoping the flustered roses on her cheeks had cooled, Ella plastered on her best smile. “Good to see you, Mrs. Gilmore. Thanks for inviting us. Your house is incredible.”

“Ah, thank you,” Emily said gratefully, then looked quizzically at Jess. “And I should hope this is a boyfriend, from that little display I just witnessed.”

Ella’s face fell at the tight, irritated tone in Emily’s voice. Her skin flushed once again in embarrassment. She cleared her throat and grabbed Jess’s hand once more. “Yes, this is Jess Mariano.”

“Hi,” Jess said shortly, extending his free hand to Emily.

“Hello, Jess. I’m Mrs. Gilmore, Rory’s grandmother,” Emily replied cordially, reciprocating, though the distaste was still very evident in her voice and her face. She turned back to Ella as she broke her handshake with Jess. “How are you? It’s been so long. Are you still doing those little doodles?”

Her smile came to look even more forced, but Ella maintained the facade. It was Rory’s party. The least she could do was avoid a scuff with the hostess. “Yes. I’ve only got a year of grad school left. Studio art.”

Widening her eyes and nodding along, Emily made a small noise of acknowledgement. “Wonderful! And what comes after grad school for an artist?”

Biting the inside of her cheek, Ella began to search her mind for a careful way to answer the question. The easy thing was to say she had no idea. But then, Ella had heard enough stories about Rory’s grandparents not to be entirely honest. “Well, I-”

“Oh, for goodness sake!” Emily exclaimed suddenly, brown doe eyes fixed on something over Ella’s shoulder. “I told him a million times to wait to serve the cheese cubes!”

Ella furrowed her brow, glancing behind her.

“I’ve got to go take care of this,” Emily said gravely. “Enjoy yourselves, you two. Make sure to try a Rory.”

“Um, pardon-” Ella began, but Emily had already begun her purposeful march back to the head waiter, who was apparently serving the hors devours out of order.

“Try a Rory!” a voice chirped cheerfully in front of them, and Ella jumped a little, turning her head forward once more.

Jess had a scowl on his face, so far unamused by the extravagant fanfare.

A waiter stood with a tray in front of them, a wide grin on his face. He stared at them expectantly for a moment, beaming, before they took the hint and each grabbed a drink from the tray. As they gave begrudging grunts of thanks, the waiter was already off to assault another group of partygoers with his enthusiastic exclamations. The drinks were those Ella had seen in the hands of other guests in the foyer, crusted rim martini glasses filled with pink, perfumy liquid.

“What the hell is this?” she thought aloud, inspecting the drink, swirling it around in the glass. She smelled it, and could only make out something fruity and the strong stench of alcohol.

Jess shrugged, staring down at his own glass inquisitively. “It’s a Rory.”

She scoffed. “Well, of course. I mean you haven’t lived until you’ve had a drink named after you.”

Snorting a laugh, Jess nodded. “I knew they were rich. But I didn’t know they lived in an Orwellian nightmare.”

“Me neither,” Ella said.

“Shall we?” Jess asked, raising his glass.

Heaving a large sigh, Ella clinked her cup against his. “We shall. Please don’t let Chris have any input in my eulogy.”

“No promises,” Jess quipped, before downing a big sip of his drink.

“Jackass.”

Taking a sip, Ella almost instantly regretted it. She never thought she would have the opportunity to taste the color pink, but she certainly wasn’t enjoying it now that it had come. As a child, her mother had sometimes stuck a bar of soap in her mouth when she let a swear word slip. Obviously, the technique hadn’t worked in the long run, but the taste was usually enough to elicit a weeks-long change in vocabulary. The drink instantly brought back the soapy memories. It was not quite Irish Spring, and not quite the orange bars of Dial her mother had eventually become partial to for punishments, but somewhere in-between. Her face twisted into a grimace and she swallowed with great labor.

Jess was already uttering a harsh cough as she finally managed to get the stuff down. “Are we sure they didn’t bring us all here to poison us?”

“Anything’s possible,” she replied, shaking her head at the taste. “Can we find a plant to dump these in?”

“I think it’d be wise,” Jess said, eyes immediately scanning the room.

He tossed a glance in her direction, then pointed subtly to a ficus in the corner by the sliding glass door. Meandering through the crowd of people, Ella did her best to look inconspicuous. She stood guard, blocking the view of Jess, as he drained his own drink into the plant and then took hers from where she held it out to him behind her back. After a few moments more of indecision, they placed their empty glasses on the mantelpiece and fled the scene of the crime into the dining room, where other groups were milling about.

“We might’ve just murdered that plant, Stevens,” Jess said as they finally came to a stop, lingering in the doorway between the foyer and the dining room.

“Well, death is a part of life,” Ella said dryly, still frowning at the taste in her mouth. “But if it does die, I’ll probably be the prime suspect. Maybe second to Lorelai. Mrs. Gilmore didn’t like me when she met me the first time, and it doesn’t seem like much has changed.”

“Why would she invite you, then?”

“Because Lane’s on tour and I’m pretty sure I’m the only other Stars Hollow friend she knows about,” Ella explained. It wasn’t hard to gather why her presence had been requested, with a formal invitation in the mail weeks earlier.

“Huh.”

“Can’t betray Emily Post, can she?” Ella said flippantly.

Jess smirked. “No, I think that’d get her twenty to life.”

Ella laughed, just as she finally spotted Rory approaching them from the opposite side of the dining room, with Logan in tow and Lorelai following behind. Rory looked radiant, hair curled perfectly and blue dress free of a single wrinkle. It reminded Ella of a dress Rory had worn to a school dance with Dean years earlier, the one she and Lane had squealed so loudly and girlishly over when Rory told them. The dress had been made by Lorelai, though. Ella didn’t doubt the dress Rory now wore cost more than the mansion door. She felt her stomach flip over when she caught herself in her thoughts. Ella knew she didn’t need to resent anyone’s wealth. She knew it truly didn’t make anyone any happier. But sometimes, she stopped the train too late and she’d already turned a bit green with envy.

“Guys! You made it! I’m so glad to see you!” Rory exclaimed happily. She hugged them both, then linked her arm with Logan’s.

“Yeah, we wouldn’t miss it,” Ella said. “We couldn’t find a scuba suit to buy you, though. Sorry.”

Smiling amiably, Rory gave a dismissive shake of her head, playing along. “That’s okay. I’m sure I’ll still be able to snag my Mrs. Robinson without one. Listen, Logan and I were on our way to find my grandpa, but I’ll try and catch up with you guys later. Is that okay?”

Ella nodded. “Of course. Go have fun, Thelma.”

The grin on Rory’s face grew, her teeth straight and white. “Thanks, Louise.”

Then, both of them were gone, Logan biding both Jess and Ella thin, compulsory goodbyes. Lorelai hung back a moment though, greeting the two of them. Her blue eyes were distracted and her voice was slightly frantic, but her usual warmth was ever-present.

“My dad’s been hiding from the party all night,” Lorelai explained. “My mother’s appointed us to seek.”

“Ah. I’ve had to do that more than once,” Ella said, giving Jess a playful nudge.

He rolled his eyes and flushed at her teasing. “I’m not a big party guy. Sue me.”

“As if you have any fortune worth chasing,” Ella shot back, then turned her full attention to Lorelai. “So, how does it feel to be the mother of a soon-to-be Yale graduate?”

“Honestly, sweetie?” Lorelai said, her eyes shining with pride. “Pretty damn good.”

“I’m glad,” Ella said.

“Hey, how did Adam’s go today?” Lorelai asked, taking another sip of her gin. “Did Father of the Year show up?”

Ella’s face fell and Jess cast her a glance. The two hours between the high school graduation and Rory’s party had been spent alternating between getting ready and hyperventilating. Maybe she hadn’t previously realized how unlikely she’d thought Jake’s showing up would be. His presence caught her off guard, trudging up old feelings which left the bitter taste of bourbon in her mouth. She didn’t know why she’d said what she had, when normally she could keep her mind and her mouth pretty well separated. Usually, her quips were calculated and deliberate. But Jake bringing up her mother right away after not speaking with Ella for so long? Saying she’d be disappointed in Ella’s choices? A burning rage Ella hadn’t known in years had flared up inside of her, and all her powers of restraint had short circuited. She’d said the first, most searing, most jarring, most hurtful thing she could think of.

“That he did,” Ella said shortly, looking down at her flats and wishing she still had a drink in her hand. Well, any drink but the pink monstrosity they were serving on the silver platters.

Lorelai scrunched up her nose knowingly. “Didn’t go so well, huh?”

“You remember that part in The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly when Clint Eastwood blows up the bridge?” Ella asked.

“Yeah?” Lorelai replied.

“Well, it was pretty much like that,” Ella said. “Except, neither of us were trying to build a bridge.”

Lorelai hummed in sympathy, then pulled Ella in for another short hug. “I’m sorry, sweetie.”

“It’s alright,” Ella shrugged. “There’s about a hundred miles of distance between us on a regular day, so at least I don’t need to worry about any repeat occurrences in the near future.”

“Lorelai! Hi!” A reedy voice piped up from behind them, and Lorelai turned to see a small blonde woman and an even smaller brunette man nearing.

Lorelai’s eyes widened slightly. “Hi, Paris. Good to see you. Have you met Ella and Jess yet? They’re Rory’s friends from Stars Hollow.”

Paris. The name rang a bell in Ella’s head immediately. She finally got to put a face to the person Rory had complained and gushed about for years. The ultimate frenemy. In a way, Ella already admired Paris, though their paths had never managed to cross. Ella looked up at Jess, mouthing the name to him again. He raised his eyebrows, but then a thick shadow of recognition crossed his face, and a smirk tugged at his lips.

“I’ve gotta go find my dad, but I’ll be sure to catch up with you later,” Lorelai said, taking her leave sheepishly but gratefully.

“I’ll find you,” Paris said, nodding curtly at Lorelai as she walked away. Then, she turned back to Ella and Jess, immediately sizing them up. She stuck out her hand. “Paris Geller. I believe Rory’s mentioned you once or twice.”

Ella accepted the handshake first, smiling. “Ella Stevens. Pleasure to finally meet you.”

“Firm handshake,” Paris commented, with just a hint of admiration.

“Thank you for noticing.” Ella matched Paris’s strong gaze until their palms broke apart.

“Hi. I’m Jess,” Jess said as he himself shook Paris’s hand.

For a moment, Ella had to fight a smirk at Jess’s stand-offish shyness. Sometimes, he was so adorable she almost couldn’t handle it.

“And, this is Doyle,” Paris said, motioning to the man in the suit next to her. “My other half.”

After having finally finished exchanging their greetings, Paris glanced down at the photo on the t-shirt Jess wore. Ella saw immediately after he got dressed that he was wearing almost the exact the same outfit she’d found him in at Truncheon’s open house one year earlier. The blazer, the black and white t-shirt. Even the low-rise converse knock-offs. Only, now, he’d ditched the jeans for actual slacks, and a slightly better quality belt. She wondered at how much had changed in twelve months’ time.

“Interesting shirt. Joseph Szabo, huh?” Paris asked.

Jess hummed in confirmation.

“I always liked ‘Priscilla,’” Ella said, eyes flicking between Jess’s shirt and Paris.

“Personally, I think it’s a little derivative,” Paris said, arching a brow. “You guys are into photography, then?”

“Sort of. I’m an artist. Jess is a writer,” Ella explained.

“Ah,” Paris said, giving Jess a pointed look. “You looked like an author. Let me guess...Kerouac fanatic?”

Ella couldn’t hold back her laughter.

Jess didn’t let Paris’s accuracy shake his cool facade, though. “You could say that. He’s at the top of the list.”

“Along with?” Paris asked.

“Bukowski, Hemingway, Salinger,” Jess replied easily.

Paris scoffed, shaking her head. “What a surprise. God forbid one of you beatnik guys reads Jane Austen.”

“Hey! I’ve read Jane Austen,” Jess retorted, more insistent.

A wide smirk blossomed on Ella’s face as Paris and Jess continued squabbling over their preferences. Jess got even more heated, and Ella more amused, as Paris insulted the beats and eventually brought up poetry. It was already the highlight of the party.

“It seems she’s met a worthy opponent,” Doyle told Ella, watching his girlfriend argue.

Ella nodded proudly, humming in agreement.

. . .

Cicadas were buzzing loudly in Ella’s ears as she landed hard on the wood floor of Luke’s apartment. She let out a whoosh of air when her back hit the floor, groaning and muttering confused curses under her breath as she rubbed at her eyes. Getting her bearings, she propped herself up on her elbows and looked around. She could barely make out Luke’s disheveled silhouette, snoring loudly on the old brown couch, in the darkness of the room. He’d already been asleep by the time they got back from Rory’s party, with a note on the kitchen table insisting they take the double bed. Taking in a deep, frustrated breath, Ella got up from the floor and was surprised when she saw the mattress entirely empty, save for the rumpled sheets and comforter. She had been in the midst of a dreamless sleep when she’d rolled off the bed. It was the first time she had done something of the like since she was a little kid. But it made more sense without Jess’s frame there to block her from turning over too far. He may have been the lighter sleeper, but he didn’t move around nearly as much as Ella did when he finally shut his eyes for the night.

With furrowed brows, Ella padded silently over to see the tiny bathroom empty and dark, the door ajar. She didn’t see him at the kitchen table either, and his shoes were sitting by the door where he’d left them earlier. His watch and his wallet sat on the nightstand. Though she did her best to swallow it down, an awful, familiar panic began to rise in her throat. Her rational mind knew there was no way Jess had been snatched out of bed in the middle of the night without she or Luke noticing, and there was no way he could’ve been kidnapped in a place like Stars Hollow, no matter how zany the residents sometimes were. But, still, anything was possible.

Her thoughts wandered dangerously as she descended the rickety stairs into the diner. It, too, was empty. She even checked the kitchen, the stockroom, and the bathroom. Jess was nowhere to be found. Could he have left? In the middle of the night? It wasn’t completely out of the realm of possibility, especially if one took his past into consideration. But as she made her way through the unlocked front door, she found her station wagon parked outside, the chipped, dark blue paint visible in the soft light of the half moon. The bus station? But why would he have gone without his shoes, without his wallet, without his watch? Without her.

She swallowed harshly, grimacing at the fear swirling in her stomach. Eyes roaming over the town, she racked her brain. But then she cast her gaze over to a beaten dirt path, to the right of the high school, and she felt just a touch less frantic. She crossed her arms over her t-shirt and hurried down toward it. The night air was welcome against her legs, mostly bare in her soft pajama shorts. As she rounded the corner below one of the town’s few streetlights, she let out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding in. His form was hunched over, sitting on the bridge above the lake. Always the bridge, she thought to herself, and would have smirked if she wasn’t feeling so shaken. She neared him, her steps sounding dully on the bridge. She could see Jess’s bare feet, below the cuffs of his plaid pajama bottoms, dangling just over the water. The lake rippled, the bluish-white moonlight reflecting against the water and shining on Jess’s face. His jaw was set tensely. She could see the silver chain around his neck glinting where it peeked out from beneath his worn t-shirt.

Shaking her head, Ella took the seat beside him without waiting for an acknowledgement. She knew he would’ve heard her coming. He didn’t startle when her arm brushed against his. She looked down, her toes, painted purple, swinging underneath her as she hung her legs off the bridge.

“You’ll get an infection walking around without shoes,” she said, finally breaking the silence.

Jess uttered a low, half-hearted chuckle. “Not in Stars Hollow.”

She let a nostalgic smirk cross her face for only a moment before she turned her head to him. “Jesus, Jess. Leave a note next time.”

He ran a hand over his mouth. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think I’d wake you.”

“You didn’t,” she said. “I fell off the bed.”

“She’s beauty and she’s grace,” Jess teased, though his heart wasn’t hardly in it.

“It’s true.”

“Are you okay?” he asked, voice laced with concern as he finally met her eyes. He looked tired, eyes red-rimmed. She wondered vaguely if he’d been crying.

Ella nodded. “Yeah, cutie. Just a bruise or two. I’m fine. Are you?”

Jess shrugged and looked away from her again. He couldn’t make out the trees across the water in the darkness. It must have been the middle of the night, two or three in the morning; the darkest hours before the dawn would break. “Couldn’t sleep.”

She nodded again, and was almost certain he’d had a nightmare. But it must have been exceptionally bad to have him retreating to the lake in the middle of the night, so she didn’t ask. She only pressed a kiss to his shoulder, and watched the water again, waiting.

There was a long pause before he spoke. “Elle?”

“Hm?”

“How do you…” he stopped to sigh, running a hand over his mouth once more.

“How do I what?” she asked gently.

“How do you do it?” he blurted out, unable to find a way to phrase the question better. His fatigue seemed to be clouding his verbal skills, which were never the best to begin with. “I mean...you just seem so okay with everything. You have it all together. You don’t believe in fate, or God, or anything. But you just...keep going.”

“I don’t have it all together, Jess,” she said.

“No, but you do,” Jess continued quietly, staring down at the small movements of the water. “I mean, maybe you don’t have your entire life figured out. But you know who you are. You don’t care what anyone thinks. You don’t believe in anything but you. And nothing shakes you, y’know?”

Tilting her head at him, she searched for an answer. He’d caught her off guard again. Smacking her lips together, she furrowed her brows and began undoing the french braid in her hair as she spoke. Partially because it felt too tight all of a sudden, and partially to have an outlet for the nervous energy in her hands.

“Things shake me. But...I don't know, Mariano. I think at some point I just sort of...accepted them. I can’t change what happened to my mom, I can’t change my dad, I can’t change much. I can only solve the problems I can solve, and there’s not many.”

He nodded, biting down hard on his bottom lip. “I guess you’re right.”

Heaving a sigh, she finished shaking the braid out of her long hair, and laid back against the bridge. Above, the sky was so blue it was almost pitch black. Stars shone brightly against the backdrop, numerous without the light pollution of a city like Philadelphia. She felt a sudden pang of homesickness, unlike anything she had experienced since moving away. There weren’t many things she missed about the small town in which she grew up, but the view of the night sky was one of them.

“But doesn’t it ever...bother you?” Jess asked, still unsure himself of exactly what he was trying to say.

“Sort of. Sometimes,” Ella said, gaze focusing on the little dipper. She felt her muscles relax, and the ache in her back quieted down a bit. She knew she would be a bit sore in the morning. “When I was a kid, I used to go out with my big brother in the summer and catch fireflies. And then we would try to find constellations, though I’m pretty sure all we knew was Orion’s belt.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” she echoed wistfully. “I loved the stars...In third grade, I knew this girl whose uncle worked at NASA. And for her birthday, her parents bought her a star and named it after her. I had no idea you could do that. And I begged my parents for like...fucking months to get a star. I didn’t even want to name it after me. I wanted to make up a name for it, but still...have it be mine. But...we barely had money for groceries...let alone a star. And I was pissed about it for a while. But, then, eventually, we learned about how the light of the stars we see is hundreds of years old.”

“Pretty good for a public school,” Jess interjected.

Ella giggled. “I agree. But, after I learned it, I didn’t give a fuck about naming a star anymore. Because any star I would’ve named was dead already.”

“So, you were a nihilist even as an eight-year-old?” he asked, glancing back at her. Her blonde hair was swept over her shoulder, eyes glittering greenish, skin dewy and pale.

“Pretty much,” she said. “But it’s like that, I guess. I can’t bring a star back to life, so why worry about it dying? Even after my mom...I tried for a while to get over it. I tried to...solve it. I thought if I just got over it, it would be done, and I wouldn’t have to think about it ever again. My dad wasn’t helping, and Adam was a wreck. He stayed with Julie for a few weeks after she died, actually. He said he couldn’t stand being around my dad and I.”

“Because you were fighting?” Jess asked.

Ella shook her head softly, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. “No, actually. We were drinking.”

“What?” Jess turned his body to face her, sitting cross-legged at her side.

“Yeah, we were sitting around the kitchen table drinking. Pretty much all the time. Noah was off with his friends, doing whatever he was doing to get by. So, I didn’t want to leave my dad alone. We would just drink all night, whenever I wasn’t at school...Sometimes, I would cry afterwards, when I was alone or when the hangover hit. But never in front of him. And I thought it would get better, but it wasn’t helping,” she explained, stopping briefly to take a deep breath of the fresh summer air. “Eventually, I...I would sleep through entire weekends, night and day, just to pass the time. I didn’t eat much, but I wasn’t really hungry. I just slept and slept. I remember...being so tired. I didn’t see anyone...not even Lane and Rory those first few weeks. I started smoking, too. I kept up with schoolwork and everything...I don’t really know why. Maybe it was just a force of habit...the one constant thing. Nothing seemed important, though. Without her there, I mean.”

Eyebrows raised, Jess listened. He had never heard her talk so much about the immediate period of time after her mother’s death. Not even he knew the details. And it shocked him the way she spoke. She wasn’t crying. She was barely pausing or stuttering at all. She told him matter-of-factly, detached.

She shrugged. “But that only lasted a few weeks. I managed to go to school, but my dad pretty much just stopped going to work. Even after the leave they gave him. He lost his job, but he wouldn’t even try looking for another one. He was just too...he couldn’t do anything. So, I stopped drinking. I didn’t pick up any alcohol again until that night I stole his tequila. And I got a job at Luke’s, to get us some extra money. And Luke threw in leftovers whenever he could. I didn’t think about her really...not for a long time. There were other problems to worry about, I guess. So, I just...got up and kept going. That’s the way it’s always been for me, I guess. She was dead, and we needed money.”

“Jesus,” he muttered.

“Things shake me, Jess. But I’ve always been good at just sort of...getting on with it...not thinking about it,” she said, voice slightly strained but clear. “I still don’t think about her most of the time. Not in a real way. Maybe that’s why I got so fucking angry when my dad brought her up today. He’s just so...I don’t know. Maybe he wishes I kept drinking with him...that I never got a job or got up from the kitchen table. Maybe he would have an easier time looking at himself now.”

Jess hummed in acknowledgment, giving a small nod of his head. He cast a careful glance her way. “Are you mad at your mom?”

She averted her eyes from him and found Polaris, the brightest amongst all the other dots of light. “I don’t know.”

“It’s okay to be mad at her,” he said.

“I know,” she replied softly. “I’ve had enough school counselors tell me that to know it. But...honestly...sometimes I feel like...if I think about it too hard...I’ll go back. I’ll feel like I did then. I’ll be like I was then. And I don’t see the point of going back there.”

“Okay,” he said quietly, then finally came to lay beside her. He shivered slightly as his back touched the bridge, though the air was warm.

Then, after a moment, she asked: “Are you worried about Doula?”

He didn’t answer. He only took one of her hands in his own, as they both gazed up at the sea of stars above, and squeezed it once. Hard, though nowhere near hard enough to hurt. She nodded knowingly, and didn’t ask anything more. A breeze blew past them, and she rubbed her thumb over the back of his hand. She felt her eyes threatening to flutter shut once or twice, but she willed them to stay open. Not only for the view they were enjoying.

“That was some party, huh?” Jess asked, breaking the silence. His tone was lighter than it had been since they had arrived in Stars Hollow. They’d talked about the party a little bit in the car on the way home, Jess driving. But Ella had already begun to doze during the ride, exhausted from the long day.

She snorted a laugh. “Fuck, I don’t know which I liked less: Emily Gilmore seeing us make out or drinking that battery acid.”

“I don’t know. I think her calling your art ‘doodles’ is also in the running,” Jess added.

She smirked. “No, she can call them whatever she wants. I’d never trust the taste of someone who thinks it’s appropriate to put a chandelier in a bathroom, anyway.”

Jess laughed heartily. “Agreed.”

“I’m glad you made a new friend, though,” Ella said.

Furrowing his brows, Jess tore his eyes away from the stars to look at her. “Who?”

“Paris,” Ella replied, as though it were obvious.

“Ah,” Jess said, nodding. “I don’t know if I’d call her a friend, but it was fun to listen to her accuse me of sacrilege when I said Bukowski was better than Elizabeth Bishop.”

“Well, she was right,” Ella said, bumping his shoulder playfully with her own. “She was cute, too.”

“You think so?” he asked.

“I think if you and Doyle didn’t exist, she and I would make for the most powerful couple on the East Coast,” she teased.

Jess snorted a laugh. “You could handle that level of intensity?”

“Please,” she mocked, rolling her eyes. “I live with you.”

Jess gasped, feigning astonishment as he brought his free hand over his heart. “Cruel woman.”

“I think you’ll survive,” she replied, smiling.

“I’m not so sure,” Jess said, continuing his bit.

Rolling her eyes, Ella disentangled their fingers, got up on an elbow, and looked down at him. She could see the shadow of stubble on his cheeks and the faint crinkles at the corners of his eyes as he smirked at her. Leaning in, she pressed a sweet kiss to his lips, lingering as he ran a hand through her hair. When she came up for air, she noticed again how sleepy he looked.

“You feel any better?” she asked.

He licked his lips. “I’m getting there.”

Only after one more long kiss did Jess agree to return to bed, walking hand-in-hand with her in the dead of night, back to Luke’s.

#jess mariano #jess #mariano #jess mariano fanfiction #jess mariano au #jess mariano x oc #jess mariano x original character #jess mariano x oc fanfiction #gilmore girls #gilmore #gilmore girls fanfiction #gilmore girls au #gilmore girls imagines #jess mariano imagines #gilmore girls oc fanfiction #lorelai gilmore #rory gilmore #emily gilmore #paris geller

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thewritingstar · 4 years

Text

Sleepover Secrets

This is my first commission and its for the wonderful and the lovely @gytech !! Thank you so very much for trusting me to write such a cute and lovely fic for you. It means a lot and it was super fun to write. I hope you enjoy and like this piece!!!!! -Star

Pairing: Jiroumomo (Jirou x Yaoyorozu)

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Rating: General Audience

Word Count: 4313

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Jirou closed her locker with a hard thud. She didn’t mean for it to be that loud but today's hero training lesson really shook her up. She thought she was getting better with her technical moves but she had been beaten in nearly every match today and all she wanted to do was lock herself in her dorm room and busted out her newest cd of a rock and roll band she had been dying to listen to too. That's all she wanted.

“You were really strong out there today.” Of course Momo would complement her. She could see how flustered she was and now Jirou had to keep her face cool enough so the gorgeous goddess like figure that was Momo Yaoyorozu didn’t see the blush forming on her face.

“Oh um thanks.You were amazing, naturally.” She smiled back.

Yaoyorozu finished hanging up her outfit all nice and neat. It always made Jirou laugh as she would tuck her scarlet red suit inside her locker while Uraraka would simply cram hers into that small space before running to the bathroom to empty her stomach. Yikes.

“So Jirou.” Momo trailed off. “Do you maybe want to have a sleepover? I overheard some of the boys talk about having their own and I thought I would like to give it a try.”

A small laugh came out of Jirou’s mouth. “Give it a try?’ She was met with a simple nod as they both finished smoothing out the skirts of their uniforms. “Wait. Yaoyorozu, have you never been to a sleepover before?”

The much taller girl turned bright pink as she began to pack up her things. Momo was one to get flustered or overthink everything constantly but this seemed more, embarrassed? She began to fiddle with her hair tie as she began to pull back her dark locks.

“It's not like I haven’t been invited to them as a child, I just don’t think that maids pampering the guests and I really count as the true experience, yeah know?” It was almost comical of how rich Momo was and how often her class forgot it. It made a little bit of sense that she hadn’t had the true experience, after all living in a mansion was kinda like a permanent fort.

“Well luckily for you. I am an expert. I’ll turn my room into a kick ass pillow fort and we can watch movies and have snacks.”

“Pillow fort?” She turned her head almost like a cute puppy dog who just got offered to go on a walk.

Jirous smile fell. “ Please tell me-” Another shrug and slightly embarrassed smile. “Alright, that's okay, it will be better this way. More of a surprise. My rooms a bit small but we can probably squeeze some more girls-”

Momo held up her hand and looked around as the other girls were starting to head out. Her voice was much quieter this time as if she didn’t want the others to hear.

“Actually. I was wondering if maybe it could just be us?” Momo asked shyly.

No matter how hard she tried, Jirou would not be able to contain the flush of red that spread across her cheeks. She didn’t know why she was slightly panicking. They were friends, best friends even and have hung out alone many times before. They studied, listened to music and occasionally fell asleep on the common room couch together, but for some reason, Momo asking it to be just them felt different. It was odd and was bringing up feelings she wasn’t sure she could handle right now.

“Oh yeah of course.” Deep breath in. And out. “How about tomorrow?” That should be enough time to emotionally prepare.

The bell rang through the locker room signaling it was time for them to head to their next class.

“I’ll bring snacks.” Momo said happily as she took her bag and headed out.

Jirou smiled to herself while poking her ear jacks together. Behind her she heard a coo and a giggle. Her eyes widened as Mina was practically glowing from hearing other conversations.

“You two are super cute!” The pink alien giggled which made her face redden further. “Don’t be such a bashful doll, Momo is super into you!” Mina always knew the drama and could sniff it out like a little piggy with truffles. Of course she had seen through her face.

A small pain of sadness ran through her. “She's not-” Jirou frowned but dropped the subject. Mina could sense the shift in mood and laced her arm through hers as they began to walk to English.

“Well you still want to give her the best slumber party ever. I’ll help you set up tomorrow.”

“Thanks Mina.”

It was Saturday which meant no school and most importantly, the smartest and cutest girl would be coming over to spend the night. Jirou was bright and early to make sure she turned her room into a pillow wonderland. She began by stripping her bed clean and pulling all the extra blankets and pillows she had.

The pile of supplies seemed small and weak. She remembers being able to create amazing forts with her cousins back home. The hallways would be lined with chairs as sheets were stretched and taped on while they crawled underneath.

But now this was just plain sad. How was she supposed to impress her with just four blankets and five pillows? She couldn’t.

A knock from her door interrupted her thoughts and she opened it while rubbing her eyes. “Mina.” She had almost forgotten that her friend offered to help her and with the way things were going, she was relieved to see the extra support.

The bubbly girl, honestly who has this much energy in the morning? Came bouncing in with her hands full of blankets followed by a mound of pillows being carried by Hagakure. Another stack of blankets had fallen into the floor as Tsuyu dropped them off.

“We are ready to help you throw the most amazing pillow fort party ever! Sucks that we can’t come but nonetheless, we shall be your faithful helpers!” Mina cheered and the door shut as the four girls got to work trying to figure out the best way to configure this.

After a few hours of planning, blankets falling, pillows being thrown, a whole box of juice boxes and instruments being smacked down from the walls then shoved into her closet, the maze that was now a pillow fort was complete.

The girls stood back and admired their work. A low whistle came from Mina as she patted Jirou on the back. “She’s going to love this!” Tsyu said as they began to leave just in time for the queen herself to arrive.

Jirou sat in her new arranged room on the floor waiting and the realization that she was about to have the prettiest girl in her room by herself was kicking in.

“What if she doesn’t like it?” Her eyes widened. “What if she doesn’t have fun and wants to leave?” All these thoughts began to corrupt her mind as she was playing out the worst case scenario.

A polite knock at the door came and she picked her head up from her knees. She crawled through the massive fort, as massive as it can be in this cramped dorm room and answered the door.

“Hey.” Momo said with a bright and beautiful smile. She was wearing a simple tank top and bottom set but Jirou knew it was made from imported silk. The light pink looked really good on her skin and she had to stop herself from checking out her best friend. Her dark long hair was falling freely on her shoulders. It was rare for her to not have her hair up but Jirou thought she looked really pretty with it down.

She looked down at her own outfit. An over sized hoodie with her favorite bands logo and black fuzzy shorts.

“Come on in.” She said casually and moved down to the floor to crawl. Momo followed and soon they were sitting in the middle of the pillow fort.

“Wow, this is amazing.” Momo looked around. It was such a simple concept but she adored the domestic feeling it provided. She was used to the finer things in life but moments like these made her wish she knew more about the freedom of playing than learning about business trades.

Momo was in awe as she saw the layers of blankets being taped to the walls and hung from the furniture. There were pillows everywhere on the floor providing them with a mass amount of seating options and she couldn’t believe she had never done this before.

“It's really not but I hope you will have a good time.”

“Any time with you is good.”

Jirou swore she saw a dust of pink on Momos cheeks. It was faint but the hope of her feelings died quickly as the other girl turned and pulled some items out of her back.

“I brought some snacks!.” She laid them in front of her as well as two very expensive looking tea cups. She almost didn't want to touch them.

Momo pulled out a thermos and began to pour. “I decided to go with a green tea and raspberry blend, something light but full of flavor. It comes from Spain back when my family visited there and the family that grows the tea leaves only makes ten batches a year because it's so hard to grow.” Momo stated and Jirou laughed as the dark red liquid filled the cup.

Momo opened a small tin of cookies which she informed her were from Scotland and an assortment of chocolates and mixed nuts that came all the way from Belgium and different regions of South america.

“Sorry if it's not enough.” she shuddered as Jirou bit into one of the chocolates and almost moaned at how creamy and delectable the taste was.

“Are you kidding? These are amazing.” She said as she popped another in her mouth. “I only have some chips from the kitchen and you brought the entire world into my room.”

A giggle came from Momo's mouth as she took a sip from her tea. Even in her pajamas, she still looked fancy. “So lovely host, what are the activities for tonight?”

“Well my lovely guest.” Momo laughed at this. “I thought maybe a movie or show, some card games, possibly a pillow fight if we don't take this all down with us and of course some gossip and girl talk. No particular order.”

“Let's start with a card game.” Momo clapped her hands together before rummaging through her bag and pulling out a brand new set of cards. “I made these yesterday! I’ve been practicing on simple items and I hope they have the same texture as a regular set.”

Jirou took the deck and began to shuffle. They looked like regular cards and had the same lightness as well. She always became amazed whenever she witnessed her quirk in action. She began throwing the cards back and forth until they had a good amount then set the rest in the middle.

“Alright Yaoyorozu. Got any 2’s?” Jirou asked and a competitive game of Go Fish broke out.

After about six rounds of Go Fish, which Momo complained she only won two games and an unsuccessful round of Poker on Jirou’s part, the deck was tossed back into Momo’s fancy bag and ready for another time.

“Whats next?” Momo asked and Jirou shrugged.

“Your choice.” She gestured to her laptop that was ready to stream a movie, all the pillows and even a few coloring books that Mina had brought her.

Momo thought for a second before looking around. “It might be a little too early for a movie.” The sun was beginning to set and Jirou agreed.

“So what are you thinking?” She leaned back on her elbows and watched Momo’s ‘thinking’ face appear.

Her eyes widened with a spark as a grin appeared. She crawled through the small opening on the other side. Jirou popped in another chocolate candy as Momo had disappeared, she could see her shadows moving and heard a bit of movement.

“You know what I’ve always wanted to see?” Momo called out and even though it was a small room, it felt like she was miles apart from her.

“What's that?” Jirou answered as she ate another one. Gosh these were amazing.

Momo's head popped back into the fort and she scooted backwards towards her as she held something in her hands.

“Oh come on.” Jirou laughed as she wiped her fingers clean. “Really?” She smiled as she took the acoustic guitar from her.

“I’ve always wanted to see you play. Ever since the room tour I've been intrigued by your musical talents.”

Jirou never thought that being able to play an instrument was something super special. Anyone could really do it and it wasn’t exactly the hardest thing to learn. The fact that Momo sat tapping her fingers in anticipation waiting for her to play and actually wanting to hear her meant a lot.

She began to tune the guitar. She hadn’t played this particular one in awhile and she was thankful that she had soundproofed her room so that none of the other girls would hear her practically serenading Momo. The familiar strum of the guitar string brought her back to the days she would sit in her backyard and practice. She had always had a soft spot with the instrument. It felt the most personal and could help convey her feelings better than her other instruments could.

“Any particular song?” She asked and Momo looked up and tapped her chin.

“What about an original?”

That wasn’t what she expected. It took her back as she nervously strummed. She wanted to protest and tell her that she doesn’t write her own songs which would be a lie because mom has caught her writing before.

“Maybe the one you wrote in the park?” Momo added.

Jirou has written many songs before, most rock and roll songs and occasional pop songs but that one, that particular one was a love song. The only one she had written. She didn’t know that Momo was standing behind her that day as she was busy scribbling down her thoughts.

“I didn’t know you knew about that.” Jirou muttered as she hugged the guitar close to her chest. She was nervous to sing the song. It was personally and she was scared that momo would realize it was about her. But she shook off that thought and Momo settled down and stared at her like she was the most important thing.

She began playing the song, the words flowing along like a river. She kept her eyes shut as she played and began to lose herself in the song. If she wasn’t striving to be a hero, she probably would have studied music instead. The thought of writing songs for someone or performing them herself was something she had always dreamed of doing. Maybe once she becomes a professional hero, she might also part time as a musician.

She ended the song and opened her eyes. She was met with a small round of applause from Mom who looked like she genuinely enjoyed the performance.

“That was beautiful.” She commended her and Jirou brushed back a piece of hair before setting her guitar behind her.

“Thank you.” She replied. “I’ve never played any of my songs for anyone before.”

“Well thank you for letting me be the first one then.”

Jirou found herself blushing more today then she has in her entire life. She grabbed her laptop before flipping it open. “Movie time?” She asked as she tried to calm her rapidly beating heart.

“Sounds good.”

The movie ended and the girls decided to sit in a comfortable silence as they checked their phones. Mina had been texting her, asking her how it was going and telling her to relax. She turned off her phone before relaxing again and just enjoying the presence of her friend.

“Who do you think would win in a fight? Denki or a jellyfish?” Jirou asked and Momo let out a loud laugh and covered her mouth.

“Denki.” Momo stated. And Jirou giggled.

“I’d pick the jellyfish.”

“That’s so mean!” But she continued to laugh anyways.

“No different then when you asked if Kirishima could beat a shark.”

“Which I think he can.” Momo added and their giggle faded off.

Jirou laid on her back facing the makeshift ceiling of the blankets and somehow began to count the number of dots on the pink blanket. Next to her was Momo who was laying on her side, finger toying with the frizz of the carpet.

“Can I ask you a question?” Momo said out of the blue. Her tone was different from the previous rounds of asking. It was soft and hesitant as if she was running it over and over in her mind.

“Yeah of course.” Jirou responded but never took her eyes off the blanket. So far she had counted twenty six dots.

“Why didn't you go out with Denki?”

She stopped counting and felt her body tense up. “I know he really liked you and you two seem like such good friends that I was surprised when you turned him down.” She continued.

Jirou felt the fears she desperately wanted to avoid surface and she tried to keep counting. She was at thirty seven now.

“ I liked someone else.” She said honestly and she heard Momo hum beside her. “Why do you ask?” She was met with silence. She took a chance and rolled on her side to face her.

She was met with a pair of eyes that seemed to hold an uncertainty as she looked at her. Momo's mouth was slightly parted open as if she wanted to say something but she didn’t trust herself. A silent tension was formed as the pair looked at each other.

“Jirou can I tell you a secret?” She asked and the other girl swore they could see tears forming in her eyes.

She felt worried seeing her friend like that and moved closer. “Of course.”

“Promise me whatever I say you will still be my friend?” Her eyes were now boring into hers. Almost like a plea.

“Momo, you can tell me anything.” Her voice was softer than anything Momo has heard before.

She turned her head and a single tear slipped down her cheek. “I’m gay.” Her voice was on the verge of breaking and she was terrified to look back at Jirou. She was scared that she would yell and be ashamed to be her friend or be mad for not telling her sooner. That fear of rejection played over and over in her mind and she was afraid that she made a giant mistake.

Instead she was pulled into a hug. Her arms immediately tightened around her frame as the other whispered how proud she was into her ears and she finally let all the tension and fears flow free in tears.

“Momo.” She pulled away and looked at her. “I will always be your friend, you never have to worry about that. You being gay wouldn’t make me care for you any less, plus I’m bisexual so I understand your fear of coming out. It can be scary but hey, I'm here for you.”

Momo wiped her tears away and her lips curled up.

“Are you okay?”

Momo only nodded. “Yes.” She took in another deep breath, calming herself down.

“Can I tell you a secret now?” Jirous said cautiously and Momo shook her head as the other girl began to lean in closer. “I was afraid to tell the person I liked how I felt.”

“I don’t think you should be.” The other girl whispered.

They were meant with another silence as their noses touched and their eyes met with a secret plea from each of them. A small smile appeared on Momos lips as she nodded and felt a soft pair of lips touch her own. It was hesitant and slow. Almost like testing the waters before diving straight in. She responded to the kiss and accepted it as she kissed the other girl back.

Jirou felt tears wet her cheeks as arms wrapped around her shoulders and pulled her impossibly closer. There was a rush of excitement as their lips parted and they each caught their own breaths.

“Wow.” Momo whispered and Jirou nodded.

“Wow indeed.” She laughed.

“Want to know something else?” Jirou turned her head. “That song was about you.”

“You, you wrote a song about me?” She asked and before she could respond, Jirou was pulled into another hug. “That makes it even more amazing.”

They each could barely contain their smiles until Jirou suggested that they watched another movie. Their fingers slowly entered as the movie played and every so often one of them would kiss the other girl's cheek, making them blush profusely.

Of course they had chosen a romantic love story and normally that wasn’t Jirous type of movie, she preferred action or even musicals, but as she watched the two characters fall in love on screen, she wouldn’t have chosen anything else.

It was well late into the night as the credits began to roll and a yawn escaped both of their lips. They fluffed their pillows before laying their heads down and faced each other. Momo brushed a piece of hair out of Jirous face and kissed her hand.

“I’m really happy you invited me over.” She said quietly.

“Me too.”

----

The sun came shining in and even with the mass amounts of blankets blocking the light, Jirou woke to a bright room. She rubbed at her eyes and looked to see a snoozing Momo. Even in her sleep she looked perfect as she hand her hands under her head and lips pushed slightly out. She reminded her of a sleeping princess, of course Momo was delicate and refined in every way of her life and it made jirou laugh a little making sleeping beauty flutter her eyes open.

“Good morning.” Momo smiled at her. She sat up and rubbed away the sleep before stretching her arms out and tried to not knock the blankets down. They were both thankful her hair was down because her massive ponytail would have taken the fort down the moment she got in.

Jirou grabbed her phone before looking at the time. “Wanna grab coffee?” She asked and Momo nodded quickly. They locked eyes for a second before the memories of last night came flooding back.

A blush spread on Jirous cheek as she remembered their kiss and soon she felt those plush lips on the corner of her mouth. “You are so cute when you turn pink.” She barely heard Momo as her brain was trying to register what was happening.

She grabbed the tips of her ear jacks and began tapping them together, a nervous trait she's had since she was a child but Momo thought it was quite adorable. “Um Yaoyorozu?” She asked. “Are we-”

“Oh.” Momo understood immediately. She picked up a brush and began to comb the ends of her hair. “I mean, I would love to. As long as you do that is?”

“Yes!” Jirou said maybe a little too fast for her own liking. ��Coffee at ten?” She said before being met with a nod.

Momo leaned in and kissed her again and jirou swore she saw stars. She never thought that all this mushy and gushy romance stuff would be up her ally but she was finding herself enjoying it with each press of the lips and the giggles that followed.

Momo grabbed her bag before leaving to get dressed. “See you then.” She winked.

Jirou heard the door close and grabbed her pillow before doing a mix of a scream and a cheer into it. She never felt this light and happy before and maybe she was still on the first kiss bliss from last night but she never wanted that feeling to go away.

She got up and began to get ready, making sure she looked decent enough for her girlfriend. Girlfriend. The thought of holding her hands on their way to class and going on dates while they tell each other all their secrets and stories from their childhoods made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

She finished lacing her shoe before grabbing her phone and leaving her dorm room.

“So how’d it go?” Mina had bombarded her right as she closed her door.

Jirou couldn’t contain her smile as they walked down to the common room and told her everything, well mostly everything that happened. They entered the elevator and she swore Mina’s screech of joy could be heard all the way across campus and she made her calm down before the doors opened.

They found the other girls sitting around a table and Momo was sitting next to an empty chair. Jirou sat next to her and Tsuyu smiled.

“So Yaoyorozu, how was your first pillow fort sleepover?” The frog hero asked and Jirou could see her holding back a wide smile.

“Amazing.” She said before pecking Jirou’s cheek with a kiss making the girl turn beet red.

The other girls began to congratulate them and swoon over the fact that they were gonna be the cutest couple ever. Jirou met Momo’s beautiful brown eyes as they shared their own private moment and wrapped their fingers together.

“Best sleepover ever.” Jirou whispered to herself as she joined back into the conversation.

“Okay who would win in a fight? Bakugou or Godzilla?” Mina said as the table busted out laughing.

I hope you enjoyed this! It was a pleasure writing and working with you!

Commission info here

#jiroumomo #jirou x yaoyorozu #kyoka jirou #momo yaoyozoru #my hero academia #my hero oneshot #my hero fanfiction #fanfiction commissions #thewritingstar

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mystic-kitten-writer · 5 years

Text

A Taste of Honey [M]︳01

Pairing: Jung Hoseok x Reader

AU: Greek Mythology (mini-series - 1st installment)

Genre: Romance/smut

Rating: NSFW

Warning: Dirty talk, fingering, oral sex (fem. receiving), multiple orgasms, virginreader, public sex, unprotected sex (put a sock on it people!), creampie

Words: 10500+

Notes: It’s all done! HAPPY BIRTHDAY GIRL. You requested a smut for your birthday, and I deliver~! I hope you all enjoy the story, I can totally see this becoming a mini-series for all of the members. Let me know what you guys think! Thank you for all the support and don’t forget to leave a like, comment, or reblog <3

EDIT: So I decided to make this into a mini-series for all of the members! You guys said you’d be interested, so lets do it! Story order: A Taste of Honey (Jung Hoseok), Teach Me (Kim Namjoon), Flutter (Kim Seokjin).

Masterlist ︳ Prologue

❤ Buy me a coffee? ❤

The Greek Goddess, Aphrodite, wanted nothing more than her favourite honey-nymph to experience the power of love. So after pulling a few strings, the Goddess promises Demi-God, Jung Hoseok, an offer he can’t refuse; “Sweeter than sweet.” he purred into your ear, your cheeks flushed watching the way he licked his fingers with delight, “Oh little bumblebee, you’re going to be my breakfast, lunch, and dinner for the rest of my life.”

A Taste of Honey ︳Final

Cheeks flushed, jaw to the ground, and eyes as wide as a deer – to say that you were out of place would be an understatement and a half.

The twinkling stars and moon didn’t stand a chance against the illuminating torches that were scattered throughout the clearing. Women and men dancing to live music, a few animals watched from the trees – seemingly entertained at how drunk Gods can be from the renowned wines Dionysus provided to his guests.

Your hands tightly gripped the white peplo you wore, palms sweaty as you watched everyone intermingle and intoxicated – all things that you never participated in. Parties such as these were a foreign concept to you. A small puff escaped, taking in your surroundings keenly – so this was how Dionysus’s parties were?

What in the world have you walked yourself into?

You huffed once more, unsure where to go, so instead, you awkwardly stayed in the same spot that you’ve been in for the past hour.

“Indulge love, the wine is free!”

Your eyes widen, turning on your heel after hearing a high pitch voice shriek from behind you, bumping into your figure. The lady’s cheeks were glowing, drunk as she wore luscious furs – a Maenad, one of Dionysus’s followers.

She held her cup of wine to her lips, stealing a sip before raising her perfectly arched brows towards you, “Well, the wine is over there. Don’t tell me you expect me to fetch it for you too now?”

A crimson blush flooded your cheeks, not uttering a word as you shook your head, and with that, she bolted, back to the circle of people who were twirling to the tune of the string instruments. Seriously, why in the world did you agree to come to this festivity?

And it was a graceful laugh that ostensibly carried throughout the crowds that made you remember – ahh, the Goddess Aphrodite.

She leaned against the God Dionysus, her hands light-heartedly resting against his chest as she giggled to whatever words he spoke. Her presence alone could make any place or thing that much more beautiful, and tonight was no exception.

Aphrodite knew you were too much of a prune to come to these events and instead told you of all the fun she had in the mornings when you gave her a face mask with the honey you gathered. So when she asked you to join her at this party, something she rarely asks – how could you say no?

The way she held your hands, coaxing you into agreeing and coming along. You even let her dress you, wearing makeup and gems that a mere mortal would dream off.

You pulled your gaze away from them, eyes settling on the Maenads pouring wine into the glasses of the greedy. This was one of the few nights you went to such a party, might as well have fun, right?

With a heavy breath, you skipped forward, dancing bodies bumping into you, laughing maniacally. Your eyes frantically searched for a glass, or at least something remotely close to the shape of a cup, to get some wine. But it proved fruitless.

Between the noise, the music, and people, you struggled to catch the attention of the maidens serving. The curse of being a honey-nymph! You were petite, a fragile thing compared to these other people, and although it was helpful with the bees, in situations like these – it worked against you.

A small pout formed on your lips, curious to taste the liquid. Maybe if you just throw yourself into the crowd?

“Here – have mine.”

Your eyes widen as a hand ran up your back. Their breath tickling your neck as they pushed a glass of wine into your grasp. The abrupt action and delicate touch stealing your breath, goosebumps rising upon your skin.

Their fingers trailed down your spine, brushing themselves against you, feeling the fine furs and silks they wore. The white-yellowish liquid swished in the cup, your hands quivering from the sudden amorous gesture. Whoever was behind you was immense, their broad chest seemingly devouring your frame as your flickering shadow was lost with theirs.

“What you waiting for? The wine isn’t going to drink itself.” They droned, chest vibrating against your back, and despite not seeing their face, you could hear the cheeky smile that adorned their face.

With a swift turn of your heel, you turned around, desperate to see the person who offered you their glass. “Oh, t-thank you-” Your words faded, lips dry as you faced your saviour.

They were tall, that was for sure. But more importantly, he was drop-dead gorgeous.

A sauve smile painted his face, showing off his pearly whites. A smile so bright it was like he stole the sun itself. Your cheeks flushed; he was handsome. So strikingly attractive he took your breath for the second time this night - was he a God?

His eyes were a dusky brown, and while people often overlooked dark coloured eyes, you couldn’t ignore his. Like melted hazelnut, his gaze lured you in. He brushed some loose strands of his black hair from his face. The whole time his smile never wavered, instead, it deepened, adorable dimples embellishing his face as he looked down at you.

“Well? Do you need help drinking it?” He chuckled, entranced with the way you stared at him so honestly. Your head shook feverishly, embarrassment consuming you.

Never, in your whole lifetime, have you been left flabbergasted by a man.

It was odd, the way your heart raced, hands sweaty from his presence. A whole range of emotions buzzing within you. There was just something about him that got your pulse racing. Was this the feeling Aphrodite often spoke about – attraction?

“S-sorry, um, t-thank you.” You muttered, still flustered by his appearance.

He ran his tongue along his lips, wetting them as he tilted his head. You, entirely ignorant to the way he studied your figure up and down – lewd thoughts running wild.

“Well?” he started, eyebrows raised as he nudged his chin towards your hands. You smiled enthusiastically, just as keen to take a sip of the liquid as he seemed to watch you indulge. Cautiously, you brought the glass to your lips, feeling the chilled liquid touch your tongue, flavours bursting with each drop.

It was like a work of art; citrus flavours teeming from left-right and center.

Was wine always this delicious? Was this what you’ve been missing your whole life? As you swallow, the cold fluid going down your throat, you could taste the lingering essences of orange blossom, and was that…some spice as well?

It was his chortle that brought you back to reality, laughing at your facial expressions, “You’re acting like you’ve never tasted wine before! ”

“I haven’t…” you shyly muttered, brushing the curtain of hair behind your ear. “Never!?” he shouted, eyes bulging as he stumbled back a bit. He was eccentric, gestures overdramatic, but it caused you to giggle, nodding your head as you stole another sip, “This is my first time.”

His hands fell over his chest, smiling radiantly towards you. A faint, shiny glow caught your attention, noticing the extravagant rings that adorned his hands. Almost every slender finger of his bore some form of gold, but more importantly - he had the most beautiful hands you’d ever seen.

Not a single imperfection as your eyes lingered along his hands and down his arms, veins slightly bulging.

“Well, I’m glad I could be your first.” He snickered, clicking his tongue as you stole, yet another, sip from your cup. A faint buzz started in your head, as if your bees were swarming, a rush you’ve never experienced before.

You titled your head to the side, oblivious to his comment as you openly pouted, realizing the glass was empty. “You want more already?” He mused, watching the way you studied the hollow glass.

“I do, but I want more of this. It’s delicious!” you cheered, louder than you had intended. Is this what wine does to you? Make you bolder? But the way his eyes lit up at your words as if you were complimenting him rather than the wine.

“You like it? Really?” He inquired, stepping closer to you with interest. Without hesitation, you mimicked his gesture, tempted to get closer as well. He was fascinating, his gestures, his voice. “I do, I could drink this all day. It’s a taste I don’t think I could ever forget…” You hummed, speaking softer now and blushing a tad, you were blurting everything that came to your mind. The wine is really taking over.

“Assyrtiko.” He said softly.

“Assyrtiko?” You repeated, puzzled.

“It’s the grape used to make this wine – famous for its citrus flavours, mostly lemon.” He finished, quickly taking the glass from your hands. His soft skin brushed against yours, his fingers lingering a second longer than needed. You could feel your blush radiate down to your body, unsure if it was the wine or just him.

He let the glass dangle from his fingers, a Maenad grabbed it from him without a second glance.

Who was this man?

The fancy furs, the gold and gems he wore – was he a man of status? A God? But his easy-going personality didn’t make him seem like a God, he was far too friendly, so pleasant to be with. You found yourself staring at him intently, trying to figure out who he was, you didn’t even know his name.

You came to this party expecting to be out of place, standing along the sidelines as you watched people indulge in ecstasy. But now, you weren’t too sure. You didn’t feel like the shy honey-nymph you were, you felt bolder, happier, and maybe that was due to the glass of wine you practically chugged in a heartbeat.

His eyes moulted over, breathing coarsely as his hand lasciviously grazed your cheek, “Do you want to dance?”

“I-I don’t know how to…” you slurred, hypnotized by his eyes. They were breathtaking, seemingly reaching your soul with every breath.

He grinned, “Don’t worry…follow my lead.”

A cheeky gasp escaped you as he pulled at your hands towards the music - so fast you didn’t get a second chance to think. Your feet struggled to keep up to his quick pace, feet feeling light as you tried your hardest not to stumble. But your anxious gasps soon turned into giggles of excitement, this man was something else.

He had this energy to him - exhilarating.

Your eyes studied his back, shoulders broad, his muscles easily visible underneath his robes and furs. How it would feel to be embraced by him, underneath him…So entranced by him, you were oblivious to the looks you received by the people around you – looks of bewilderment and curiosity. Just as you caught yourself shamelessly staring at him, again, he stopped.

He turned on his heel, pulling his hands onto your waist as he pressed you against him. His dark green robes starkly contrasted against your white ones, but you couldn’t peel your eyes away from his. They were electrifying, he looked so pleased, laughing as you found yourself moving pathetically to the music.

“I really don’t know how to dance.” You groaned.

But he shook his head, smiling as he guided your steps with a firm grasp on your hips, “You’re overthinking, just enjoy the music, listen to the beats…” He mumbled, pulling you close to him once again. ‘Listen to the beats…easier said than done’ you thought as you awkwardly danced side by side.

You stared at your feet, mind buzzing as you tried to understand what in the world you were supposed to be doing. Oh for Zeus’s sakes, your feet didn’t seem to listen at all, refusing to move at a steady beat. And it wasn’t long till you heard the man who had you wrapped around their finger wincing slightly.

Your cheeks flushed, realizing that you accidentally stepped on his foot amidst your so call dancing. And while you would definitely say you were tipsy, you weren’t intoxicated enough to brush off the look of shame on your face. The way his lips turned upside down slightly, eyes closed as he hissed under his breath.

“I-I’m sorry, you know, I should probably just get going-” you blurted, seeing a look of pain flash across his eyes. What were you thinking? Drinking, dancing - things you’ve never done before, let alone with a man! You were way over your head, you were just a honey-nymph at the end of the day, you don’t belong here one bit.

You pulled away, desperate to hide away in a hive and cry to your bees out of frustration, but before you could, his grip tighten, pressing you firmly against him as his hand gently cupped your face, “I promise I’ll teach you, one broken foot at a time.” He laughed, playfully tapping your nose. Your mouth dropped, rosy at his words, “You’re not mad?”

“Why would I be mad, to be fair, you did warn me.” You couldn’t help but let a smile sneak up. He was such a sun; illuminating, hopeful. I’ve never met a man such as him before.

“Don’t give up hope just yet, I see a little spark in you.” He teased, his hands guiding your hips once again. His smile was comforting, your body relaxing, and you got a bit bolder, letting your body press against him as your head laid on his chest. Your face on his furs, warm to the touch and soft.

But you could also smell him – citrus.

It was like the wine you drank earlier, but oddly enough, it suited him. His natural tangerine and lemony scent, seemingly representing his energetic personality - a burst of energy. Maybe a follower of Apollo? It would explain his radiance…

This time, you got what he meant – listen to the beats. The way the musicians strung at their instruments, the way the people moved their bodies to the music. Hands waving, feet moving, “See – and you already lost all hope.”

You laughed at his words, realizing that you were in fact dancing, although terrible, it was still dancing. His hands travelled around your hips, drawing you closer and trailing down your spine, resting along your lower back. His head leaned into your neck as you moved, feeling his warm breath; teasing you.

He was so close, so close you could feel his heartbeat through his furs, your fingers brushing against his skin that his robes failed to cover. “You know, I’ve never seen you before…” He muttered, lips brushing against your ear.

“This is my first time coming to a festivity of the God Dionysus…” You answered. There was no point in lying, it was obvious you were a naïve bee. What person attends a party of Dionysus multiple times and say they never drank wine?

He pulled away slowly, eyes studying your features with curiosity, searching for an answer, “I can’t say I’m surprised…I would remember seeing someone like you…”

“You attend these often?”

His mouth parted, closing just as fast before he broke into a smirk, “You can say that…Dionysus and I are close. Extremely close – like blood.” You raised a brow at his words, trying to catch on, but the wine from early seemed to still have a grasp over you, your brain unable to decipher his words.

“What about you? What brought you here, you’re for sure no follower of Dionysus.” He mused. The tone of the music changed, slower this time. You reduced your pace, matching his instantly and gave he gave you an approving smile. “I’m a honey-nymph…”

“A follower of Demeter? Now, I wasn’t expecting that. Demeter isn’t exactly a party-type of gal.” He blurted truthfully, and you giggled, “No, I’m not a follower of Demeter.”

His brows pinched together, speechless, and your laughter grew more, watching the way he struggled to comprehend your words. “So you’re a honey-nymph, who isn’t a follower of Demeter, did you just happen to waltz into this party or something?” He asked, inquisitiveness laced with his words.

You kittenishly shrugged your shoulders, teasing him as he had done to you, “Who knows, maybe I did, maybe I didn’t…”

“So you wanna play like that, huh?” He roused, his face snuggling into your neck as his hands dropped. You could feel them, no longer on your lower back but along the curvature of your ass. You flushed, gripping onto his robes, feeling his touch.

He was intoxicating – making you feel drunk, awakening a new side of you, a side that you didn’t even know you had which speaks plenty - given that you spent most of your time with the Goddess of love and sex herself.

“Oh, little bumblebee.” He cooed into your ear, a soft moan escaping you hearing the nickname he gave you. His voice, it was like he was singing, taunting to himself as one of his hands easily grasped your chin. He tilted your face upwards, licking his lips with delight as he studied you, trying not to devour you right then and there.

“What’s your name?” You gasped out, your lips just barely touching his. Your fingers dug into his shoulders, pushing yourself against him, seeking more. He chuckled, watching how eager you were for him, his thumb brushing your bottom lip with temptation, “Hoseok.”

Your brows furrowed together – Hoseok.

A name that seemingly jolted a sense of familiarity. Why does it sound familiar? Like you’ve heard that name before. The wine made your mind fuzzy, that and being in his presence, “Do I…do I know you?” You muttered innocently.

Hoseok grinned, “You’re far too good for this world my little bumblebee. How did someone as innocent as you last this long?” You flushed, his face leaning close to yours, your eyes fluttering shut as you felt his warm breath along your lips, a taste. You just wanted a taste-

“Oh my precious honey-nymph, where do you hide?”

You jolted, pulling away from Hoseok’s grasp in a flash. He staggered backwards at your actions, Aphrodite.

“I-I’m sorry, I have to go.” You blurted, but you felt your heart squeeze seeing Hoseok’s face. He looked sad, a faint frown on his face as he studied you carefully, “Did I do something wrong?”

“N-No! I’m sorry, I have to go, she’s looking for me-”

“My love, where are you?” You heard Aphrodite sing once again.

You frowned, looking at Hoseok with regret. His warm eyes looked distressed, already missing the warmth of his fingers against your skin.

“It was nice meeting you Hoseok, and thanks for the wine, it was marvellous.”

“Your name-” he shouted, but it fell upon deaf ears as you already bolted through the dancing bodies. He let out a sigh, watching the way you beelined. You were fascinating, “Little bumblebee…” He muttered under his breath. He needed a drink – actually, make that two.

Your eyes scanned frantically for Aphrodite, hearing her soft cries through the crowds. Your hands anxiously gripped your robes, eyes bouncing from person to person to spot the gorgeous Goddess herself.

And after searching for a few more seconds, your eyes finally settled on her.

She sat on Dionysus’s lap, her hands entangled with his curls as she giggled. Her cheeks were rosy, evidently a bit tipsy as you as Dionysus held a wine glass in his hand. He took a sip from the cup coolly, although his wine was different, a scarlet red – wonder what type of wine that was?

As if Aphrodite could feel your gaze upon her, her head tilted towards you, a bright smile shining all the way to you, “Ah, my precious follower, come here!” She hummed, her finger curling and motioning you towards her. You huffed, letting go of the fabric that you bundled up in your hands, feeling the eyes of Dionysus upon you.

It was strange, for the past few days, Aphrodite and Dionysus were oddly…close.

You were well aware of his and hers pleasurable rendezvous’ – Aphrodite’s husband ignorant of such, but it was more than just that.

Dionysus would often engage in conversations, well beyond the normal realm of ‘small talk’ with you. It was as if he searching for something, or trying to figure something out…

Aphrodite’s hands caressed your face, a happy smile painting her face as she gazed over you like a proud mother, “Doesn’t she look absolutely stunning tonight?” Aphrodite purred pleasantly, nudging Dionysus friskily. You blushed once again, trying desperately to look away as Dionysus agreed and took a sip of his wine. “Ahh, nothing compared to your beauty, Goddess.” You murmured, looking down humbly.

You didn’t have to look up to know she was already rolling her eyes, your hair slipping through her fingers as she hummed once again, “Since you’re all dolled up, this would be a superb opportunity to meet Dionysus’s sons!” Your eyes widen, sharply looking upwards, because everyone has heard of the infamous bunch.

The Divine Gods of Grapes.

They were Demi-Gods, children of Dionysus, but over the years, they proved their strength and power, ultimately gaining status as Gods themselves. Seven Gods – each one representing a particular grape that produces wine. Each grape complimenting their unique personalities.

Dionysus smiled, chuckling as he raised his wine glass, swirling the red liquid with ease, “You’re right my Goddess – they happen to all be here tonight. What a happy coincidence.”

“My little one meeting your children, it’s like a date!” Aphrodite giggled, her hands falling against Dionysus’s chest once again. Your eyes widen, piecing the puzzle pieces together – Aphrodite planned this, all of this.

She was trying to set you up with one of Dionysus’s sons!

Your cheeks flushed, realizing that when Aphrodite told you that she would make sure you found love, she wasn’t joking.

You – with a God?

Sure, they were technically Demi-Gods, but the thought of a mere honey-nymph, an utterly innocent and chaste one at that, being with God?

You could feel your head buzzing already. But while most would be honoured to be paired up with men of such high status, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander back to one particular man.

His chocolate eyes, those cute dimples, you found yourself smiling sweetly to yourself – Hoseok. You had just met him, but there was something about him, something utterly addictive about him. He was so happy, cheery, and you felt a blush appearing on your cheeks, remembering the nickname he gave you; little bumblebee.

Aphrodite gentle caressed your cheek once again, catching your attention and realizing the situation you were in. She was going to introduce you to Dionysus’s sons, she expects you to find the love of your life with one of them. You pushed Hoseok to the side, no point dreaming of a future with a man whom you just met, a man who only offered you wine and a dance. But the first man to ever do so…

You could hear some commotion behind you, a few men and women gushing.

“Ah, here they are – my boys!” Dionysus boomed, shouting at what you could only assume were the infamous group of men. You bounced from side to side, palming your legs as you prepared to meet the notorious bunch.

Knowing that his sons were here made sense. Even someone like you could tell there was an abundance of people at this festival, and it also explained the array of different coloured wines that were being passed along. I wonder what son produced that flavourful wine you drank?

“Father, Goddess of love and beauty - Aphrodite.” A man spoke from behind you. You felt your body tense, hesitantly moving to the side as you turned on your heel.

Six men stood together, proud and tall as they bowed in acknowledgement to Aphrodite. She giggled, clapping happily, “It’s been far too long my lovelies, working hard at the vineyards I suppose? The wine is utterly heavenly.”

They all smiled, nodding at her words. They were handsome, each single one of them, each having their own charm. You felt Aphrodite run her hand along your hair, “Let me introduce to you young men my dearest…” She droned. Your cheeks flushed, having all their eyes on you.

They didn’t seem as intense or petrifying until you felt their eyes on you. Each one studied you up and down as if you were a gift. But in retrospect, you were. Finally, the man in the center of the bunch cleared his throat, seemingly sensing your uneasiness, “Pleasure to meet you, I am the God of Agiorgitiko – Namjoon.”

Agiorgitiko?

It clicked. Grapes.

They were naming the grapes they were in control of.

You smiled and nodded your head in acknowledgement. “These are my brothers-” he started, gesturing to the men standing with him. The man to his right smiled radiantly, stepping forward and bowing, “I am the God of Roditis, Seokjin.”

His voice wasn’t as rough or coarse as Namjoon’s, and same with his appearance. Seokjin held a rather classic beauty, timeless, a man of status. He wrapped his arms around the man beside him, “This here is my youngest brother, Jungkook – the God of Athiri.”

Jungkook was nervous, not nearly as bold, or at least as outgoing, as the other bunch. A faint blush tainted his cheeks, shyly nodding his head towards you. You couldn’t help but smile, you could sympathize with him – being so deathly timid yourself, although the wine in your system did seem to cure that for the time being.

“Hi, my name is Jimin! I’m the God of Moscofilero.” Blurted a voice.

It was light and feminine, almost as if they were singing. Your eyes travelled back to Namjoon, noticing that this Jimin character was standing on the other side of him. His lips were pouty, eyes nearly closed as he shot you the biggest eye smile you’ve seen. His smile was contagious, noticing that you were no longer tightly gripping your robes in your hands as you giggled back at him.

They weren’t as intimidating as you thought, and not as formal or ‘prime and proper’ as the Gods usually were. But more importantly, …if they were all Gods of particular grapes – Assyrtiko.

That was the grape Hoseok told you, the vine to that delicious wine you had. Would it be silly to pick your date solely on the taste of wine? But you found your tongue running along the edges of your mouth, trying to pick up the faint traces of the flavour.

You wanted something else, something more…

A taste of those lips - Hoseok’s lips.

“Yoongi - God of Malagousia.” A deep voice spoke.

Yoongi brought you out of your thoughts once again, although his greeting was short and sweet. His eyes seemed unamused, looking elsewhere. He didn’t look particularly bored with you per se, more like he was just tired of being at this party altogether. The last person chuckled at Yoongi’s expression, wearing peculiar furs over him, “Taehyung, I’m the God of Xinomavro.”

Your eyes flickered between them; one, two, three, four, five, six…six?

“Ah, what gentlemen! What do you think, my dear? Anyone pick your fancy?” Aphrodite hummed into your ear as she brushed your hair. You would’ve blushed at her words, making you pick a man so upfront like this, but you couldn’t because you were too busy focusing on something else. “God Dionysus.” You spoke, a slight waver in your voice.

Right away, he raised a brow, seemingly intrigued that you called him out, “Yes child?”

“You have seven sons….but, I only met six.”

“Six isn’t enough for you?” Yoongi grumbled, crossing his arms with exasperation as Namjoon shot him a glare. You blushed, realizing how your comment may have sounded, as Aphrodite brushed your cheeks, “We thought we would introduce to you your best matches…”

You gazed at the six men, sure – they were handsome, but what made them the best matches for you? You looked at Aphrodite with confusion written on your face, “I wanted someone who would compliment your shy persona, someone who would cater to your delicate being.” Aphrodite soothed, already knowing what you were thinking.

Was the other brother rough, a brunt of some sort? You pouted as you looked over them, they all looked kind, and you understood what she meant by ‘compliment your shy persona.’ They didn’t seem necessarily gaudy or tremendously sociable – especially that Yoongi and Jungkook character. For the most part, they appeared relatively timid like yourself. Shy.

“You seem unsatisfied child.”

Your eyes widen, rapidly looking at Dionysus with terror, “N-not at all! I’m just, uh, picking.” You stuttered. But Dionysus didn’t seem offended, as you thought he was, but somewhat interested. “If you wish…I may call upon my last son for you to decide, it only seems fair to make a proper decision.”

“But we agreed to these six…” Aphrodite mumbled under her breath, so she did plan this with Dionysus! Before Dionysus could say anything more, Jimin spun, waving his arms frantically at someone, “Over here! Father wishes to see you!”

“Me? What did I do now?”

Your ears perked up at the voice, moving forward without a second thought.

“Nothing bad – promise!” Jimin cheerfully bantered back. You heard an airy laugh, and you could feel your heart swell. No – it can’t be.

“Father, you requested me?” The man spoke, wrapping his arms around Jimin with a charming smile.

But Dionysus didn’t have a chance to speak.

Your finger rose, pointing at the seventh brother, “Hoseok…?”

Hoseok’s head turned at the sound of your voice, his mouth wide open, “Bumblebee?”. A blush erupted on your cheeks, flustered by your nickname.

Hoseok was a Demi-God, no – a God.

The son of Dionysus.

He was dropping hints to you all night, but you were so caught up with his beauty, his charm, you didn’t clue in one bit. That’s why his name sounded familiar, that’s why he wore such extravagant robes, that’s why the Maenads beckoned at his call.

“Hoseok. The God of Assyrtiko…” You muttered under your breath.

Hoseok was the mastermind behind that rich, acidic wine. That’s why he was so happy when you told him you loved it. Without hesitance, you looked at Aphrodite and Dionysus, hands to your chest, “I made my decision. I know who I want.”

“Amuse me, child.” Dionysus beamed, leaning forward, eager to hear your words.

“Hoseok. I choose him.”

Your head was buzzing, and you knew that in the morning to come, you would soon come to regret your outright passion for Hoseok. But right now you let his wine work it’s magic, your voice stern as you pointed at Hoseok without hesitance.

Aphrodite and Dionysus didn’t pick Hoseok, not because he was rude or rough, but because he was the exact opposite of you.

You were shy, the wallflower at parties such as these, while he was the sun, always shining the brightest.

He was loud, eccentric, while you were quiet, naturally tame.

But it was because of this, you felt drawn to him. This night alone, you did things you haven’t done in your whole lifetime – he made you feel alive. And that’s what you wanted, someone who pushed you outside of your comfort zone.

If you chose any of the other brothers, you knew they would treat you right, Aphrodite wouldn’t let them touch a single hair on your head, but you didn’t want to feel safe – you wanted exciting.

The grin on Hoseok’s face as he stepped forward, your blush only intensifying as his eyes etched into your skin, “Oh little bumblebee…” He purred, the tips of his long fingers tilting your chin upwards, “You won’t regret this. Not one bit.”

A busy bee – precisely what you were, pun intended.

You sat on your knees, humming softly as you overlooked the sprouting blossoms on the cherry trees, adorning the fields. The gentle breezes made the grass brush against the skin of your legs, you nose bursting with the calming aromas of fresh flowers – all tale-tell signs that spring is officially here.

A content sigh escaped you as you continued humming away, the sound of your bees buzzing away above you. With spring in full swing, you had your work cut out for you. Making sure the bees were pollinating and producing enough honey to last the upcoming winter.

But while you sang softly, guiding a combination of Honey and Bumble bees from flower to flower, your mind was elsewhere…

A rosy tinge painted your cheeks as memories flooded your mind, a few bees stopping their work to flutter around you, curious as to why your voice has changed from a pleasant high pitch tune – to a low, sultry one.

Your tongue ran along the inside of your mouth once more, a pitiful attempt to taste that wine – his wine.

It has been a bit over a week since that fateful night. And while you hoped that time would ease your nerves and hopefully make you forget how bold you were that night, Aphrodite didn’t let you off that easily.

She giggled like a child when she saw you, raising her eyebrows and poking your cheeks teasingly as you applied her morning mask, ‘I’ve never seen you so…lustful my little one’ she would purr into your ear. You let out a sharp groan, just remembering the mischievous remarks Aphrodite said to you.

But despite outright claiming Hoseok as yours that night, you haven’t seen him since. Nor, did you see Aphrodite with Dionysus.

It was strange, how insistent Aphrodite and Dionysus were that you pick any of the brothers besides Hoseok, but now that you chose him, Aphrodite couldn’t seem happier. As if she wanted you to pick him all along…

Your eyes fluttered upwards, gazing at the bees, realizing that none of them were working. Instead, they flew around you, playing with one another, “H-hey, get back to work, sillies!”

Right away, they faced you, buzzing softly as they swiftly brushed against your skin and back to the pink and white blossoms on the trees. A soft smile painted your face, you loved your bees, every single one of them like children. You felt a soft touch on your hand, looking down to see a single bee resting contently on your palm, “Hey, you too buddy…” You giggled softly.

The bee fluttered its wings, and you swore the bee puckered before flying away. So much attitude!

Just as the bee started to fly away, you noticed their buzzing got intense – furious.

You felt yourself starting to panic, the bees pulling away from the blossoms and instantly flew around you, seemingly all facing one direction, “What’s wrong…?” You cried, watching the way some of the bees wagged their stingers.

They felt threatened.

The sudden shuffling of shrubberies caught your attention, up ahead the bushes moving slightly. Someone was in the underbrush, and the bees were petrified. You pushed yourself off the ground, gripping your white robes as you walked forward, the bees swarming around you protectively. Who in the world is in the bushes?

Black hair bobbed, green robes-

“Hoseok!?” You shouted.

A head poked out, his face bearing the sweetest smile you’ve ever seen. The way the sun bounced off his skin, his skin glowing radiantly. It’s him, it’s really him.

But before you could even blink, your bees freaked out - mistaking your beating heart for fear rather than utter bliss.

They swarmed forward, and the quirky smile on Hoseok’s face soon shifted to that of fear. You ran ahead, waving your hands frantically, “Don’t worry, he’s a friend – a friend!” you anxiously shouted.

The bees movements stopped, and you knew they were gazing at Hoseok, and you – suspiciously.

You outstretched your hands, a few bees prudently brushing themselves along your fingers, “He’s a friend…he’s good…I promise…” You muttered softly, trying your best to comfort them. Their buzzing relaxed, their wings no longer flapping powerfully, as a few of them flew back to the blossoms - still keeping a wary eye on Hoseok.

A soft sigh of relief escaped your lips, before turning on your heel and pouting, “What in the world were you doing? They could have murdered you!” You cried, hands on your hips as you scolded Hoseok. The very fact that he was a God slipped past your mind as he scratched his head and pushed his way through the bushes.

“Oops?”

You couldn’t help but giggle, because as worried as you were, you were spellbound. Now in the day time, the sun shining directly on him, you could see him in all his glory.

What a fool you were, he literally screamed God. The way he walked towards you, a bounce in his step, but more importantly, he held something in his arm, a bottle?

“W-what are you doing here, Hoseok?” You muttered softly, shyness consuming you as you crossed your arms and tried to look at him in the eyes. But the way he grinned, licking his pink lips caused you to flush and divert your eyes. He was intense.

“I was going for a nice afternoon stroll.” He hummed, standing right in front of you. A few petals from the cherry trees fell on his head, a flower crown. You let your arms drop, pressing your hands against your thighs as you anxiously gripped the material, you were nervous. So damn nervous.

Your eyes studied him, the way his dark green robes did little to cover him, showcasing his muscles as he chuckled at your rattled appearance. His shoulders were just as broad as you remembered them being. As your eyes scanned him, you noticed the bottle once again – wine.

“Do you always walk around with wine in your hand?” This time you saw his cheeks flush, slightly rosy as he looked down at the bottle, “You never know when you bump into a certain honey-nymph who just happens to like Assyrtiko white wine.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you brushed your hair behind your ears. He was something else, something else entirely.

“I don’t think I’m allowed to drink on the job Hoseok.”

“Who says the wine is for you?” Hoseok grinned, raising his shoulders mischievously. You placed your hands on your hips, smiling towards him – what a tease.

“You’re right, my wrong-doing for assuming. Actually, now that you’re here, I wanted to ask about your brother Jungkook…” You hummed. The way Hoseok’s eyes narrowed, stepping forward with a coy grin, “Be careful my little bumblebee, you don’t know who you’re messing with.” His hand reached forward, caressing your cheek while his thumb brushed against your lips.

His touch. You melted instantly, the way his long fingers easily slid across your wet lips, stealing your breath just like the very first time you met him. “Hoseok…” You gasped, not realizing that you stepped forward, bumping into the bottle he held in his arms.

The way you acted that night, the way you crumbled under his touches, the need to kiss him, it wasn’t the wine. Because right now, utterly sober, you felt your skin tingling, eager to wrap your fingers into his raven hair and kiss him. He leaned forward, eyes heavy as his hand ran down your neck, grasping the back of your head keenly, “Why did you pick me?” He huffed.

You blushed, watching the way he struggled to breathe, his fingers pulling on your hair, forcing you to look upwards. “I don’t know. It just-it just felt right.” You gasped out, taken off guard by his roughness. “You could have picked any of my brothers, but you picked me.” He gulped, pressing his forehead against yours.

You let your hands rest against his chest, he was right – you picked him.

But…did he want you?

“I picked you because you make me feel alive. But if you don’t want me, that’s fine. J-just tell me now, and I can talk with Aphrodite. I’ll just pick one of your brothers-”

The sound of the bottle hitting the lush grass, Hoseok’s hand gripping your chin, pulling you towards him in one tug. A sudden warmness upon your lips, a taste of wine.

Your eyes shut closed, he was kissing you.

You threw your arms around his neck, drawing him closer as you moaned in his mouth, he tastes like wine. Citrus flavours bursting as he growled, his hold on your hair and chin not wavering a bit. His teeth grazed your bottom lip, biting and causing you to whine underneath his grasp.

He groaned at your sound, pulling away as your eyes fluttered open. Your knees felt weak, your breath uneven as your head buzzed. This was all you wanted, his lips against your own, but now that you got a taste, you wanted more. So much more. Your head spun as if you were drunk, “Honey.”

You titled your head to the side, struggling to breathe as your fingers dug into his hair, what? “A taste of honey.” He groaned, eyes half-lidded. The way he grunted, his lips nibbling yours made you press your thighs together, a growing itch as you felt yourself getting wetter by the second. The way you squeezed your legs shut didn’t go unnoticed, Hoseok grinning madly as he jolted your head back, exposing your neck.

“Why haven’t I meet you sooner my precious bumblebee?” He sighed before spoiling your neck. You whimpered, your hands gripping onto him for dear life. He didn’t bother trying to be tender, nipping and sucking your neck and collarbones enthusiastically, “G-grapes.” You gasped, his tongue dragging along the neckline of your robe.

He stopped his movement, giving you a chance to open your eyes. His hair was messy, eyes blown out as his hands gripped you hungrily. “Grapes - they don’t need bees. They reproduce themselves without the help of bees.”

“Well good thing I’m not a bloody grape because the need to reproduce with you is driving me insane.”

You bit your lip to muffle your cry, Hoseok biting your neck once again as his hands moved down to your waist, just barely skimming your chest, “May I, my sweet little bumblebee?” He muttered, his kisses pushing the thin fabric down, almost exposing your breasts fully for him. You coloured, anxiously huffing – torn, “I-I-”

Right away, Hoseok pulled hearing your hesitance, his touch dropping as he looked up at you, eyes soft, “I won’t force you if you don’t want to.”

“I want you too, it’s just that…” Hoseok raised a brow, confusion written all over his face as he watched you squirm under his grasp. You wanted him to touch you so badly, take you right here out in the open, “What’s wrong, my little bumblebee, tell me.” He cooed, placing tender kisses down your chest, his fingers starting to once again run over your upper body, ghosting your skin through the fabric.

Your eyes widen, back arched, gasping delightfully as his touches, “I-I’m untouched.” You whined, cheeks red as you blurted out the cause of your conflicting emotions. But the look on Hoseok’s face, the smirk as he licked his lips leisurely, “Oh my little bumblebee, how can a follower of Aphrodite be untouched? Ignorant to greatest pleasures of man and God?” He buzzed.

Your eyes tightly shut, his hands firmly groping you through your robes, his thumb and index fingers teasing your hardening nubs through the fabric. Your knees buckled, falling against his body as you quivered.

The answer was simple - because you never found a man worth your damn time until now.

“Show me.” You whined as you clung onto him, not realizing that the cries you were hearing were your own, so desperate to be touched. Hoseok groaned, his lips brushing against your ear, “You want me to show you what?” he pestered, his hands cupping your breasts as you press your thighs against each other, your wetness starting leak down your legs - frantic for a release.

“S-show me the greatest pleasures of man and God.”

“Right here, out in this open field?” He taunted, his voice hitched as he listened at the way you whimpered, “Yes~!”

His hands dropped to your waist, lifting you in a single movement. Your legs wrapped around his waist, feeling something hard throb against your heat. “You’re mine, your body, your soul – everything. You’re all mine.”

You were pushed against a tree, cherry blossoms showering your figures as he hungrily ate your lips. You sighed once more into his kiss, seeking out some sort of relief as you bucked into him. The way his bulge rubbed against you, breath escaping as a jolt of pleasure ran up your spine. Hoseok groaned, eyes rolling back as he rutted.

“Touch me, please, I-I can’t wait-” You begged.

Tears threatened to pool over as you helplessly ground against him, the new sensations consuming you. Hoseok chuckled, clicking his tongue as he ran his fingers down your chest. Those long slender fingers, how much you wanted to feel them against your skin, doing things you have only dreamed the moment you met him. “Where do you want me to touch you, bumblebee?”

With his hips firmly planting you against the tree, his hands were free to roam your body. Your nails dug into the tree bark, panting heavily as he slowly pulled at your dress. “Do you want me to touch you here?” he snickered.

Before you could speak, he tugged the remaining half of your dress down, the sound of fabric tearing echoing into the field. But you didn’t have a chance to lament, his hands greedily fondling your breasts and kneading them.

Your mouth hung open shamefully, trembling at the way he ran his tongue down your chest and sucked your nipples with a loud ‘pop.’

“Hoseok~.” You moaned breathlessly, stars flooding your vision. You bucked against him once more, feeling the way his member twitched, just as aroused as you. “Oh, you want more bumblebee? So greedy.”

His kittenish licks along your breasts, taking his sweet time as he watched over you with desire. You felt one of his hands move down your clothed stomach, bunching up the remaining fabric into a fist, lifting the dress further up your legs before exposing you.

His breathing hitched, seeing the growing wet spot against his robes, biting his lips. You were fully exposed, and the sudden realization hit you hard as you anxiously covered your blushing face, “Look at the mess you made, you’re drenched.” His other hand quickly gripped your wrists, pinning them above your head, forcing you to show your rosy face.

The way he licked his lips, his fingers running up your thighs, slowly inching his way closer to your core. “D-don’t tease, please.” You whined, springing your hips, trying urgently to feel his fingers against you. Hoseok growled, his fingers just barely skimming your heat, inducing another painful moan from you, “Please~.”

Your hips jerked forward, feeling his fingertips running along your slit. The sound of your slick so clear. Your eyes rolled back, head hitting the tree as you moaned, his fingers spreading you wide for him. The way he easily slid up and down your cunt made you want to hide in embarrassment - but the pleasure convinced you otherwise.

Your hips bucked again, causing his fingers to hit that particular bundle of nerves. A sharp exhale escaped you, wanting desperately to claw at his back. But the grip on your wrists above your head was unrelenting. His fingers lubed as he rubbed and pinched your clit with ease. “Is this what you want from me bumblebee?” He groaned, watching the way you helplessly arched against his hand.

“Y-yes, oh- Hoseok, God- yes!” Hoseok beamed, watching the way you struggled to keep your eyes open, a knot in your stomach building as you humped his fingers urgently. “That’s right, I’m a God, the only God that can make you feel this good, right?”

You nodded your head frantically, the pleasure building, the way he rubbed your clit effortlessly between his fingers. Pinching tighter and rolling the bud faster as you cried.

The pressure built, unable to handle it anymore as your legs twitched. Hoseok smirked, feeling the way your thighs tried to hug his hand, hips bucking non-stop, “Are you gonna cum for me, bumblebee?”

You were at a loss of words, merely nodding your head, “Say my name, who is going to make you cum like this? Just from their fingers?”

“Hoseok!” You gasped.

He clicked his tongue, “Not loud enough bumblebee, scream it.”

“HOSEOK.”

“Cum for me love.”

You lost it.

Your legs shook as your back arched against the tree. Mind blank as you convulsed under his grasp, rubbing you harshly as you rode out your high. You couldn’t think - tears prickling from your eyes as you experienced your first ever orgasm with another person. His touch lightened hearing you whimper, your face and chest red.

Your eyes fluttered open, Hoseok smirking madly at you, like a cat that got the cream. His fingers ran between you slit, scooping your cum with ease. His eyes never left yours, bringing his fingers to his lips before sighing sensually. “Sweeter than sweet.” he purred into your ear, your cheeks flushed watching the way he licked his fingers with delight, “Oh little bumblebee, you’re going to be my breakfast, lunch, and dinner for the rest of my life.”

“Good. And I expect you to give me a glass of wine with every meal.” You muttered back. Hoseok laughed, cupping your face before kissing your lips, “Honey and wine, a mix I never thought of…” He groaned, lazily kissing you as his grip on your wrists loosened.

Your hands wrapped around his neck, dragging him closer to you, your breasts pressed against him as you tasted a bit of yourself in his mouth. He was right, you did taste like honey.

“Hoseok…” You muttered into the kiss, he pulled away, only to fall into your neck as you ground against him, “I want you inside me.” You felt your cheeks heat up at your words, but you meant it. The way you clenched, the need to be filled. He lifted his head, “Undress me then.”

Your legs dropped from his waist, without a hesitation untying the sash around his waist and tugging at the furs that adored him. Like a God, he stood still, watching the way you unclothed him like a mad animal. Your hand ran over his clothed manhood, causing him to hiss as you rubbed teasingly through the fabric, “Hurry up bumblebee, I waited a damn week for this, I refuse to wait any longer.”

A week, he wanted you as much as you desired him that night.

You tugged at the last knot, his robes falling gracefully onto the grass, exposing him fully. Your cheeks flushed, unable to rip your gaze away from him and his manhood. His member standing tall, head oozing with pre-cum as he pushed you up against the tree. You wanted to touch it, feel the way the veins pulsed under your gaze, but his voice stopped you, “Turn around, I need to stretch you.”

His hand gripped your hip, spinning you around, so your ass stuck out with your hands grabbing the tree for balance. You were leaned over, legs spread wide for him and fully exposed. You were panting, emotions of eagerness and fear coursing through your veins as his hands ran along your ass cheeks.

His fingers agonizingly trailed down your ass, before brushing against your cunt once again, a sharp gasp escaping you. So distracted by his touch, you didn’t realize that he was on his knees, directly across from your womanhood. You felt his hot breath, jumping slightly at the sensation, “Sorry, but I can’t help myself.” He purred before you felt his wet muscle against you.

Your nails dug into the bark, moaning loudly as you felt his tongue parting your lips, lapping every drop that dripped out of you, “So sweet…” he groaned to himself, his tongue flicking against your clit. Your back arched to his face, oblivious to the fact that his fingers were already teasing your entrance.

He pushed lightly, your pussy eating up his fingers with ease and sucking him in. The way his fingers moved in and out with ease, had you moaning, a pressure building up again from the new feeling. “How does it feel bumblebee? It doesn’t hurt, right?” He whispered between licks, his tone a bit gentle. But the speed of his fingers increased, as he saw the way your eyes shut closed and how you pushed yourself back against his every thrust.

It felt so good, feeling those deliciously long fingers of his inside you. His fingers curled, searching for something. And that’s when you felt it, a sharp jolt of pleasure. Your legs stiffen, crying his name out as you blacked out for a second, “R-right there.” You moaned. Hoseok’s tongue never stopped moving against your clit, letting you fuck yourself on his fingers.

You felt the pressure in your gut building as he slipped a third finger inside you, hitting that one spot over and over again. The stretch his fingers caused was quickly dismissed as the pleasure was knee-jerkingly intense. Your cries grew louder, as Hoseok groans caused his mouth to vibrate against you. His teeth grazed your bud, legs quivering as you struggled to stay up, “H-Hoseok, I’m gonna-”

He pulled away.

You clenched nothingness as you whimpered. You were so close, so damn close. You made a movement to straighten up, ready to tear him to pieces, but his hand firmly pressed on your back, holding you down.

You could feel it, the head of his dick rubbing along your slit, lubing himself with your wetness. You looked over your shoulder, head thrown back, and eyes shut as he rubbed himself against you. His lips were covered with your own cum, not bothering at all to wipe it, and the sight alone almost made you cum right then and there.

“I’m going to enter you, it’s going to hurt for a bit, okay?” He muttered, his hands running up and down your back to soothe you. “If it hurts too much tell me, I’ll stop. Just don’t let your bees hurt me.” Your brows furrowed together, my bees?

The laugh that erupted from Hoseok the moment you realized what he meant. You were outside, and you could still hear your bees buzzing around, not even working just playing amongst themselves while you eagerly await Hoseok to enter you. You blushed, nodding your head, “The last thing I need is to be stung while making love to you.”

“I promi-hmpph!”

Without warning, you felt him push at your entrance, a strangled moan escaping as you felt the head of his dick inside.

You felt everything.

You felt the way his member pulsed inside of you, inch by inch pushing himself inside. The low erotic growl that Hoseok let out, hissing as he slid himself gradually. You never felt so stretched, a slight stinging feeling as you pushed himself against you. It wasn’t painful as much as it was uncomfortable, “You’re so tight.” He groaned, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips, struggling not to thrust into you and seek out his high.

You moaned, pushing yourself against him, adjusting to his size. His grip harden, gasping as you pushed yourself against him. He was inside - all the way in.

He leaned over your back, placing soft kisses along your back and up your neck, “May I?” He hummed, teasingly pulling himself back, “Yes.” You moaned, and that was all it took.

He slammed his hips back into you, stuffing your hand into your mouth to muffle your cries.

Hoseok snickered, hurriedly grabbing your hands with a swift motion and pulling them behind your back, “I want to hear you bumblebee, loud and clear.” He huffed, slamming himself inside you. You felt your mind go blank, as he hit that sweet spot inside of you once again as he had done with his fingers.

You clenched around him as he lunged ruthlessly, causing him to whine slightly, “You’re so tight, it feels so good.” He groaned into your ear, nipping at your neck as you cried.

It didn’t take long for your denied orgasm to bubble up again, gasping and crying out desperately for him to go faster, harder.

And he listened, to every single whine.

The sound of skin slapping against skin quickly overpowered the buzzing of the bees around you, your eyes shut closed as you felt an explosion building in your stomach. Hoseok groaned lowly, feeling you tighten around him, releasing your hands to grab your hips, “You going to cum already for me, bumblebee?” He hissed, breathing sharply as his chest heaved against your back.

Not a single word escaped you, only endless cries and moans as you nodded your head, grasping onto the tree for dear life as he rammed himself inside you. “J-just wait bumblebee, I’m so close.” He huffed.

His thrusts were erratic, no longer controlled as he sought out his high. You whimpered, the tension building so much, ready to pop any second, needing that extra push. Your knees buckle underneath you, “I-I can’t wait.” You gasped out, squeezing your eyes shut as you tried to hold back. Flashing colours flickered despite your closed eyes, overwhelmed with the pleasure.

Hoseok panted above you, one hand leaving your hip before sneaking back to your slit, looking for that magical spot. “Cum with me bumblebee.” He grunted, his fingers rubbed your clit, letting it roll between his fingers as he pounded you. You shuddered, tears falling as you let your climax overtake you.

You could feel Hoseok shudder, weak thrusts as you felt warm spurts of his cum inside of you. His dick twitching as he let out the most animalistic groan you’ve ever heard. You were at a loss of words, your hands falling along the tree as Hoseok panted into your ear.

You just had sex for the first time, and it was with a God.

“Are you okay?” Hoseok huffed, struggling to catch his breath.

“I-I can’t feel my legs…” you whimpered out, before collapsing onto the earth. Hoseok hissed, wrapping his arms around you before you dropped, a groan escaping you both as he accidentally thrust himself inside of you and a jolt of pleasure coursed through both of your bodies, “Please, I can’t do another round.” You muttered, struggling to keep your eyes open.

You could hear Hoseok laugh from above you, slowly pulling himself out, leaving you empty as his cum dripped down your legs. You wouldn’t dare say it, but you already missed the feeling of him inside you. He raised you upwards, snuggling you to his chest, “I made a mess of you.” He grinned, planting a soft kiss on your forehead.

A blush filled your cheeks, realizing what you just did. “Sit down, I’ll cover you.” He muttered, leaning you up against the tree as he gathered his robes and furs. You let your legs lay against the grass, hearing the faint buzzing of your bees up in the air.

A sudden warmth embraced you, noticing he loosely put on his robe and wrapped your body with the expensive furs he wore. He crouched in front of you, running his hands along your face with the broadest smile, “You don’t know how badly I wanted to do that.”

You giggled softly, exhaustion consuming you as you let your head rest against the tree, “So…I’m going to assume it’s a yes?” You shyly muttered, crossing your arms with the furs he enveloped you in. Hoseok raised a brow, tilting his head to the side as he observed you tenderly, “What do you mean bumblebee.”

“That you want me…that I picked the right brother.” Hoseok laughed, running his hands through your hair gleefully, “I swear, Aphrodite and Dionysus already knew. I think they knew we were meant to be, they just introduced you to my brothers to upset me.”

You opened your mouth but quickly shut it.

He was right.

Aphrodite was the Goddess of love. She’s the first one to tell you who we are all destined to be with. So why bother introducing you to all of Dionysus’s sons if you were going to end up with Hoseok in the end? Unless…

“She wanted to make me realize…” you giggled breathlessly to yourself, before looking up at him, “She wanted me to see my options, just to show me how perfect we are…” Hoseok shook his head, grinning before reaching behind him. He pulled out the wine bottle from earlier, the bottle he dropped onto the ground in the heat of the moment, “Well…I brought this bottle for us to drink, have a little date. Clearly, that didn’t happen.”

You smiled, reaching forward and grabbing the bottle from his grasp, “An after-sex wine celebration? In honour of my first time?” You proposed. You tugged on the cork, hearing a bit of air escape, “To the taste of wine~.” You teased.

Hoseok smiled, “To the taste of honey.”

Aphrodite giggled, playfully slapping Dionysus’s arms as she squealed with delight, “I won, I knew it!”

Dionysus huffed, shaking his head as he watched Hoseok push you up against the tree, your moans drifting with the wind, “I really thought he would’ve last two weeks….” He grumbled. Aphrodite rolled her eyes, tugging on Dionysus’ arm as they walked off. They didn’t need to stay and watch to know what was going to happen, your moans spoke plenty.

“I knew it, you saw the way they were at the party. They almost kissed!”

“How I wish to be young again…” Dionysus sighed, but Aphrodite just bumped her hip to him, “I can’t reverse time…but I do know something that can make you happy, feel young.” She purred, her fingers running up his arms, letting her nails trail along his skin. Dionysus smirked, looking down at the sexy vixen on his arm.

The ultimate temptation of all man and God – love and sex.

❤ Buy me a coffee? ❤

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aaetherius · 3 years

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@the-sxrpent

Belial got up for the first time since the battle went to hug Lucifer, was it sudden? Yes but the last time they hug was him protecting Belial from their creator's..'check ups'. He uses his leathery wings to wrap him up like a bat not letting go staring at his beautiful face. "Don't you laugh."

Unprompted || Always accepting (feel free to turn into threads)!

★ ☆ ✮ ✯ ―☼ ― ★ ☆ ✮ ✯

Slender fingers held a neat, but delicate tray against his palm. The smooth metal warm where it balanced against the slick fabric of his gloves, and made the tips of long digits feel somewhat balmy where they rested beside the set of porcelain cups laid out carefully upon it. Beside them was a small kettle - creamy color reflecting the light that filtered in through the windows, and the golden trim wrapped about its lid shimmered as it caught the meager glare rolling over it from the sun hung low in the morning sky. Steam wafted gently from the tip, carrying with it the scent of freshly brewed coffee, and licked at his doll-like features. Inhaling against the heat the burning drink always radiated, he allowed the pleasant aroma to fill his lungs and fight off the lingering, morning chill. Rosy lips pulled into a soft smile, his gaze trained on the kettle for a moment - he could hear the soft whisper of the steam and the hushed sway of the liquid contained within without the usual hustle and bustle of the crew to drawn out nearly everything. Though, he did enjoy it whenever it was present - which was most of the time given how lively the crew tended to be. The cacophony of countless voices as they discussed this and that, the thump of shoes against the wooden floorboards of the ship, and the unbridled laughter that followed so easily from some of the members. It was a stark contrast to how utterly silent the halls of Canaan had been during the last few thousand years when he had resided there alone with only the company of a handful of aged coffee trees kept alive only by the presence of his power.

But it was still early. The sun just barely a bright spec amongst the clouds, and the bright blues of the skies were still a dull indigo. He often woke early - out of habit as he had never required sleep before, and in order to help with the cafe before the members who relied on their morning coffee stumbled in to place their usual orders. Most of the crew was still asleep, save for the ones who rarely slept who had been assigned some sort of task that called for them to rise early in order to complete it. If he listened past the gentle hum of the airships engines and the hiss of the steam, he could hear the ones who had been tasked with making breakfast whisper about the task at the hand from the kitchen that was nestled beside the cafe. But gaze lifted from the kettle, sweeping over the room to ensure it was exactly how to should be - flexing wings tucked neatly against his back slightly to make sure they hadn’t gotten caught on anything. He’s felled far too many cups for his own liking with them, and he was still trying to replace all of the ones that hadn’t survived their encounter with blush-tipped plumes - he would rather not add to the collection of teacups he’s broken today. Yet, after ensuring everything would be ready to go within the next hour or so when the crew slowly began to pull themselves from the comfort of their beds, he slipped out of the small cafe to head back down the hall.

Pausing in front of a room to shift the tray to one hand so he could gently tap his knuckles against the frame. It wasn’t unusual for him to check up on Belial since the battle to see if he was well or if his wounds had worsened while he was being forced to slowly recover from them - he had made a habit of it after the night when he had overheard the fallen struggle. Guilt a driving factor given how large of a role he had played in the wounds the other had endured - the ones he himself had suffered had long since healed, but the same couldn’t be said for Belial. It also wasn’t unusual for him to make and bring the other coffee, though he’s not entirely certain that the other actually enjoys it. It hardly matters one way or the other, and he waits a moment in case Belial wasn’t prepared before he pushes open the door and enters the other’s room. Gaze moving to the bed to check on the other, and he almost drops the tray in his surprise when he sees Belial shifting to stand up from the sheets. And he very well might have dropped it had he not already felt terrible enough for breaking so many cups in the past that he wasn’t acutely aware of where they were at any given time so fingers just barely manage to tighten about the ridge of the tray before it can tumble out of his hold. Long lashes fluttering as eyes widen. “Belial, are you certain you should be up?” Concern slips into his voice, but he sets the tray down on a nearby nightstand regardless when he notices the other making his way over to him, and hastens to meet him in hopes that he won’t push himself too hard.

On instinct, his arms are already raising in the event the other might need to grab hold of him or use him to steady himself, but his entire body stiffens and muscles tense when the fallen reaches out for him and embraces him instead. Surprise making the pearly feathers of his wings rustle and flare against his back, but, after a moment, it slowly fades, and he relaxes. The tension that had built up within his muscles slipping away, and wings falling softly against his back once more as Belial’s leathery wings extend and wrap about him. Blue irises watching them for a moment with something more akin to curiosity than anything else, before he finally meets the fallen’s gaze. Confusion making fair brows knit together slightly, head tilting slightly, but enough to make shimmering locks tumble against his jaw. He can hardly recall the last time Belial had hugged him - perhaps he had actually been the one to reach out to him. Back then, he believes, the day had been late and for some reason the other looked worn and somewhat frightened for reasons he didn’t quite know - still didn’t quite know. Lucilius had treated him far differently than others, he was kept in the dark about much of his research, and unaware of the experiments that took place and what the archangels had been put through as a result. He does recall how miserable Belial had looked then, though - knew to a certain extent that Lucilius wasn’t not terribly kind to him. Ah - he has little idea, though, what had prompted this.

Lips part to try to give voice to his confusion, but the words are chased back down his throat by Belial’s words. Confusion slowly ebbing away as warmth takes its place. Expression softening into a gentle smile. “I am uncertain why I would laugh or what I may have done to make you fear I might.” His voice is soft - somewhat hushed - partly because much of the crew is still sleep, but largely because of his natural kindness and lingering concern for the other. Arms that had been stiff as his side lift a bit against the roughness of Belial’s wings so he can gingerly return the embrace, hands coming to rest against the other’s back to reassure or support him. “I am; however, glad that you appear to be feeling better, and I pray that you are no longer in any pain.” At least in regards to his physical injuries, there’s still little he can do about the other’s nightmares.

#the-sxrpent #| ☩ Cradled within the gentle breeze ☩ (ask) |#| ☩ And once again the sky rises; sincere and melancholic ☩ (IC) |#| ☩ A faint dusting after sunset ☩ (verse: AU - Post) |#{ Thank you for sending this! }#{ Ahhhhh they've come so far from Luci being prickly and threatening him lol }

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x-silver-x · 4 years

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Coffee Shop - Seonghwa x Reader x Wooyoung

Seonghwa x Reader x Wooyoung Angst and fluff (?) 1.5K words Y/N - Your name F/C/S - Favourite coffee shop F/T/C - Favourite type of coffee F/K/C - Favourite kind of cake

Masterlist ——————— Y/N was on her way to F/C/S. She went there so often that the baristas knew her order off by heart now, and if there was a ‘Regular of the Month’ award, she would definitely win it each and every month. She loved that place, the peaceful atmosphere, the comfy seats, the scrumptious treats, and of course the exquisite coffee. In her opinion the coffee shop had the best coffee in the entire country. Everyone always flocked to more popular places, like Starbucks or Costa, but to her this place was special. This was also the place where she fell in love. Twice. [One year ago...]

His name was Seonghwa, he was a regular, just like her. He had a charming smile decorated with a black lip piercing, ghost-like skin, piercing icy blue eyes and bleached hair with dark roots barely starting to show.

Usually, when he arrived she was on her way out. They would see each other for a few short moments in the doorway and that was it.

One day when Y/N was on her way to the shop he boss called her and told her that there wasn’t that much work to do so she could have the day off is she wanted. Of course she agreed; it was a day off, who wouldn’t want one?

‘Should I order a slice of cake with my coffee? Hell yeah! I have my first day off in months, this deserves to be celebrated.’

Y/N walked up to the counter and ordered F/T/C and a slice of F/K/C.

“Cake? Y/N you never buy cake. Is it for some kind of occasion? A birthday? Anniversary?” Minseok, a barista that Y/N managed to befriend a while back, questioned.

“Why are you interrogating me?” She laughed, “My boss decided to give me a day off due to lack of work so naturally, I must celebrate.” She smiled slightly tilting her head upwards.

“Ugh luckyyy!” Minseok whined. “If only my boss was like that!” He pouted then nervously looked around to see if his boss heard what he just said.

“I thought that making coffee was your passion?” Y/N raised an eyebrow.

“Well, yeah, but-” The ding of the coffee machine interrupted him. He poured the hot liquid into an elegant black cup and added some cream (ignore if you don’t like cream if your coffee). “Here you go ma’am!” He joked and passed Y/N the steaming cup with a small slice of cake next to it.

“Why thank you, good sir.” Y/N grinned in return.

She sat down at a table next to the window and began mindlessly watching the people go by while taking small sips of her drink every now and then and nibbling on her cake. This was her time to relax, no need to rush or stress about anything trivial. Just relax.

“Excuse me miss, is this seat taken?” A deep voice pulled her from her thoughts.

“Hmm?” She looked up to see the one and only Seonghwa. “I- uh- no. T-The seat’s not taken.” She stuttered out. Y/N never saw someone so beautiful, sure, she saw attractive people before but she never was so affected by someone’s looks before.

“Then it’s alright if I sit here, yeah?” He asked.

“Uh... Yeah, sure.”

From then on, the two would always meet up in the café and then go to the park, or to the movies, or the beach. However, these little dates were happening less and less as time went on and the love was starting to get one-sided.

[Time skip]

When the time came for the couples’ one-year anniversary, Y/N wanted to do something special. She asked Minseok if he could order a cake to the coffee shop with ‘Happy Anniversary’ written on it. When he agreed, she called Seonghwa to meet her in the coffee shop on Saturday 14th at 6pm. She wanted everything to be perfect, maybe, just maybe, this would re-ignite their love, she really loved him and was hoping to spend the rest of her life with him.

[Time skip 2.0]

Saturday 14th rolled around quickly. Y/N put on a beautiful navy dress, curled her hair, and put on some light makeup. She arrived a little earlier to make sure everything was okay.

“Okay, so when do I come in with the cake?” Minseok double-checked.

“Umm... I’ll show you a sign; maybe when I fix my hair?”

“Bad idea. You fix your hair too often. Just like, look over of something?”

“Okay, I’ll give to ‘the look’.” She said staring intensely into his eyes for a brief second before the two burst out laughing.

“I still can’t believe you guys lasted that long! A year is a pretty long time.” Minseok said after calming down a little.

“What is that supposed to say?” Y/N questioned.

“I- uh- nothing! Forget about what I said...” He panicked.

“Minseok-”

The doorbell sounded. Y/N ignored it since she was busy staring Minseok down, hoping he’d elaborate on what he said.

“Y/N... You might want to turn around...”

Reluctantly, she did. Her boyfriend, Seonghwa, the man she loved was guiding an unknown girl to

their

spot in the café, the exact place where they had their first real conversation, and where they later fell in love. They were smiling and laughing, they looked happy and in love. Y/N’s heart was torn apart that very moment. She could not believe her eyes. Seonghwa not only forgot about their anniversary but he also brought another girl to their special spot in the café.

“That stupid son of a bitch!! I will spit into his coffee for the rest of my days! I’ll mess up his orders and no, I will NOT apologise! Even if I get kicked out!” Minseok threatened. “I’ll bring you some cake, okay? You don’t need to pay for your coffee for the rest of the month, it’s on me, alright?” He said to Y/N in a much softer tone.

“Thank you, Minseok” Y/N sniffled, “but you really don’t have to-”

“Hush now, child. This is the least I could do for you.”

Whilst Minseok was away getting the cake and serving new customers, and Y/N was wiping her tears with a napkin, a man who looked like he’s in his early twenties sat down in front of her.

“Hey, I overheard what happened, and that so-called ‘boyfriend’ of your’s really doesn’t deserve you. You know what he does deserve though? His coffee being spat into, just like that barista said.” Y/N chuckled lightly and the man smiled. “He’s the one with the lip piercing, right?” She nodded cautiously. The man stood up.

“Wait, what are you-”

SPLASH!

“DUDE WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!” Y/N’s ‘boyfriend’ yelled.

“That’s what you get when you leave your girlfriend on your anniversary and then waltz in with another.”

“Excuse me? You’ve been dating another girl behind my back?!” A shrill voice cut through the now quiet coffee shop.

“Rebecca, it’s not what you think!”

“I won’t hesitate, bitch.” And with that, yet another drink went to waste. The girl stormed out and Seonghwa followed soon after, unable to stand such humiliation. The café went back to its busy self and the man returned to Y/N’s table.

“You really didn’t have to do that, you know...” Y/N looked up at the man, still dumbfounded at what just happened.

“You’re right, I didn’t, but I wanted to. That guy needs to learn that cheating and standing up such beautiful girls such as yourself is not okay. You’re too good for him.” Y/N blushed. Now that she thinks about it, Seonghwa rarely complemented her, if ever.

“Oh! I forgot to introduce myself, I’m Wooyoung.” He smiled and extended his hand towards Y/N.

“I’m Y/N.” She shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, and thank you for what you did back there.” A genuine smile spread across her face.

“I’m back! Sorry for the wait but I got caught up with the orders, and then my boss scolded me for talking too much and not working enough, and then I heard screams and next think I see Seonghwa is walking out completely drenched.” Minseok rambled.

“Yeah, Wooyoung over here,” Y/N gestured “sacrificed his drink to humiliate Seonghwa and then his new (ex)girlfriend joined in.” She explained.

“You, my friend, are a legend! I’ll be back with a replacement for your drink and an extra slice of cake in just a few moments.” Minseok patted Wooyoung on the back and leaned down to whispers something to him. “Treat her right or else...” Then he departed once again.

“What did he say?” Y/N asked.

“Oh, it’s nothing.” Wooyoung chuckled. “Will you do me the honour of letting me be your new date?”

“Hmm... I’ll think about it,” Wooyoung held his breath. “Of course I will! How could I say no?” He exhaled, relieved.

Y/N and Wooyoung chatted the rest of the night away, discussing a variety of different topics. She realised that she enjoyed Wooyoung’s company much more than Seonghwa’s. This was merely the beginning of a marvellous love story.

———————

Hello, it’s me again! I decided to post another one of my old fanfics from Amino on here. It went through a few changes here and there but is still the same overall. I would like to remind you guys that my requests are open so if you like my writing and would like to request a fanfic/scenario/imagine/other you can just message me and I’ll try to post it as soon as I can :) P.S Did you like the little vine reference I added? I just couldn’t help myself!

#ateez #ateez wooyoung #ateez seonghwa #kpop #ateez fanfic #ateez oneshot #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung x reader fluff #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x reader angst #에이티즈 #에이티즈 우영 #에이티즈 성화

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forevrnotyours · 5 years

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Could you do an Werewolf! Yandere! Ot7 reaction to you being their mate but you're human and have a boyfriend already? Thanks, I love your works and can't wait for more!💞💞💞

I know this is super late but I hope you like it, it's a little long though.

Thanks for the love 💜💞💕💝💜💘💗💓💟💖❣️

Seokjin

It was weird, that the most precious and intoxicating scent found his path to him the day he was in the city.

Normally Jin hated everything to do with humans, or at least great groups of them, with the mixed and plastic scents of perfumes and all those products they liked to used, combined with the smell of their food and trash that surrounded the cities, he really didn’t like being in the urban area, but today was a necessity, beside the things the pack needed, he found himself dazed when a certain person walked by not too far from him. The crisp air of November carrying more than the scent of the dead leaves.

It was you, he looked at your figure from afar and almost ran trough a couple of persons just to keep on looking at you. It was unlucky, yes, he wasn't fond of humans, but his instincts never had failed him before, you were his already, it was just matter of time before you learned that.

Jin followed you, to a park, grateful that there was a lot of people enjoying the autumn scenery so he could pass as just another person taking a walk. You were stunning, soft skin, full lips that smiled at strangers when they walked by and soft hair partially covered by a beanie, he could eat you then and there, but it was human territory, he would have to reach for you when you were alone. His possessiveness growing with each second of not feeling your bad y against his.

What happened next tough, made his blood boil and eyes darken, deep red sipping trough dark brown. You met a man in a bench not too far from where he was hiding, the man looked at you with a smile, and next thing he knew you were kissing him on the lips, it was chaste and short in the eyes of the other but for him it was a declaration of war.

How dare he, to touch your skin and Form, to breath the same air as you, that filthy undeserving human. You were HIS and he dares to touch you.

So Jin waited, and looked at you from afar for days on end, anger building more and more each day even one day when he found out you lived with your so-called boyfriend, he ripped and destroyed anything on his path until he calmed down. That day he was sure to demand blood when the occasion of taking you came.

After weeks of stalking you and watching Form afar, his plan was set, a spare key you had "lost" gave him the entrance to your home, it was late and he had seen you sleeping alone just minuets before, your boyfriend was downstairs still working or something, he didn’t really cared.

"y/n?" called the human when Jin entered the house, the quiet sound of the back door closing making the other perk up, Jin got closer to him, the other standing up, about to go inspect the cause of the sound when he pounced on him.

Warm, that’s what you felt when your senses started to wake up, warm and gentle hands pushing your hair out of your face, you smiled and hummed about to speak when you opened your eyes. Terror filled your mind, words dying in your mouth, Jin was hovering over you, blood coating his mouth and neck, other traces of the red liquid all over his face and form, you didn’t screamed, you felt paralyzed, red eyes were looking down at you with a fondness that suffocated you "wake up y/n" he said smiling down at you "it’s time to go home"

Min Yoongi

Yoongi sighed, tired out of his mind, sure werewolves cold last a lot more than humans without sleep or food, but he had been living of way too many coffee cups so he could finish some work lately and running three days without sleep was taking his toll, so he went to a cafeteria close by, a place he normally tried to aloud at all costs, the smell of greasy him and trash food and way too many bodies inside such a small place never sat well with his hypersensitive nose.

Today tough, he could do an exception after all it was two in the morning in a December day, so it would be almost or totally empty, besides, Jin had given him a mask that had scent blockers, so he could just order his food to take away and leave. However it did next to nothing when he entered the cafeteria and all he could smell were baked bread with rain.

It was a mixed thing, but it made him almost dizzy, canines sharpening and instincts screaming at him to find the source and mate.

He looked around frantically; how he predicted the place was empty with the exception of a pair of people on their laptops on one corner. And he knew they weren’t the source of the scent, so that left you, how was standing behind the bar, talking with a guy who was just entering the kitchen leaving you all alone.

He didn’t move, but when the other was out of sight you turned around looking at him and smiling, despite the hour and his shady looks "goodnight, take a seat and I’ll be with you in a second" you said smiling once more.

You were drop dead gorgeous, god he didn’t even knew you existed before but you were already everything he wanted. That night he stayed for the longest time, ordering coffee after coffee and pretending to do something with his phone, in reality he looked at you from his spot on one of the almost hidden tables on one side, it was when your turn was over that he realized he had stayed for way too long, and when he followed you outside the scene in front of him made him growl, it was early in the morning and the traffic was just starting so you didn’t hear it, nor your boyfriend, the guy was waiting for you outside and he had hugged you and kissed you before opening the car door for you, it made him bit his lip hard enough to taste blood so he could keep himself from snarling at him.

He would say that he kept control, that he got the guts to talk to you like a normal being and that he didn’t stalk you every waking moment he could, but then he would be lying, he had photos of you in his room, cliché but it was necessary, if he couldn’t have you in that moment at least he had your photos, besides he had a scarf one day when you left it behind at work. God he lived for those things because every time you were outside work you were with your boyfriend or some friends, so he started to plan on how to get you, your boyfriend had to go that was point number one, second he would need to take you to the pack house, because staying in the city was way too much trouble. So with that in mind he got to work.

You were clueless the night he took you, it was easy, you were innocent sometimes, now he just had to get rid of a body.

Hoseok

For all in his live, Hoseok couldn’t live peacefully in the city, sure Jungkook was a city wolf when he was little and yes sometimes they had meetings in some cities but those were far apart and a rare event, this time though, the maknaes old pack had invited them to spend some days with them, something about growing relationships and maybe some treading, but for the love of the moon itself, he couldn’t have blink of sleep in all the time they’ve been there.

One of this nights tough he walked aimlessly, sure he could actually endure more sleepless nights than a human but it took it’s toll, so after a while he let his legs lead him wherever, in his half sleep state he didn’t realize he was following the undertone of the most beautiful and satisfying scent he could ever dream of, sure he was taken out of it when he hit a post, just in time to see you.

So he walked, every night around 2 am he would get fed up and go for a walk around the city, truth to be told he didn’t find anything fantastic about the place, it smell bad, it was full of rotting smelling humans who like to use way too much of their scented products to cover they true smell, it was noisy way to much, it was no wonder why he could sleep and their lights made it incapable to see the stars at night which was a completely sin in his eyes.

You were alone walking, God you were so beautiful, the god forsaken lights were for this once a blessing, the soft light shined on you like rain, soft and warm, idly illuminating your features, you were walking alone, much like him, wandering the city in the dead of the night.

He followed you to a park where you sat down in a bench, the moon was high up in the sky and he swore that you were the most ethereal thing in the world, Hoseok after several minutes of inner battle walked up to you with a tentative smile, you were his mate after all, he wanted to make a good impression "hi" he said cursing himself in his head for his choice of words, you confused said the same "I was just wondering if I, if I could sit down with you?" he said with a tentative tone and a blush in his cheeks, you were enchanted with the shy stranger so you nodded and made space for him to sit by your side. After some time in silence you decided to talk "couldn’t sleep?" you asked breaking the silence and making him jump a little in surprise which made you smile "no, not really, there’s too much noise" he said turning to look at you, you smiled at him "I suppose you’re not from around here then" he shook his head, still mesmerized by your beauty "I’m very far from home actually" he said "then what brings you -" your phone Rang making both of you jump in surprise, you took your phone out of your pocket a different kind of smile gracing your lips making Hoseok frown, "oh sorry it’s my boyfriend, he must be worried about me" you said standing up "give me a second yeah" you said before picking up.

Boyfriend? What did you mean by boyfriend? You were his mate, you were his and he was yours, so why?

"sorry about that" you apologized taking him out of his reverie "I need to go back home, it was a pleasure to meet you though" you said smiling apologetically, he stood up in a flash hand graving yours, you felt sparks were he touched you and you looked at him surprised "please don’t go" he said pleadingly "sorry but I need to go back" you said a little creeped out because of his actions, you tried to take your hand our of his grasp but it wasn’t working "I can’t let you go, I won’t "

Namjoon

"Namjoon hyung please" Jimin said to the elder puppy eyes in full power making Namjoon groan, that wasn’t fair play and the other knew it "okay, just this once" he said following the shorter outside the pack house, Jimin wanted to go to a store in the far end of the city and because of the abundant hunters and mingling creatures he had to go with someone older, this time Namjoon was the one to go with him.

Sure it all came with its advantages when in a store filled of rare plants and ingredients for tonics he smelled setting else mingling in it, Jimin was the one talking to the person being the bar and that when he realized that it was you the one who was destined to be with him for the rest of his life.

You were a little dirty, he didn’t really knew why, your short hair was partially hidden with some kind of brown beret hat, you looked totally squishable in an adorable way, he was mesmerized with your dark eyes and soft smile, he was a goner in seconds.

He was about to talk to you, calling for you, even when he didn’t knew your name, but someone else belated him at that "y/n love, do you know where the last batch of bloodroot is?" a man said coming from the back of the store making him halt, love? Who was he to call you love?

He left without a word then, dragging Jimin with him, he had your name, that was something, he had the name of where you worked and the image of the scum that was around you, that was enough for a start.

He followed you every day, learning tour routine to the last step, he learned the name of the scum that lived with you and called you love, he learned what toy liked to do, how you acted when you were annoyed or happy, how you would smile so big and unbothered that your eyes would almost close.

He learned everything there was to learn about you and almost sighed in reveal to your purity in that way, at least he had the most important of the first saved for him still, one day tough it wasn’t enough.

You were oh so beautiful when you were sleep dead to the world and unaware of the monstrosities that happened not so far from you, he had blood in his hands still when he took you away to your destined home.

Jimin

Jimin sighed, he was getting ready to go out with some friends, sure it wasn’t so bad, but he had hoped for a long sleep instead of partying, but that wasn’t the case, so he swallowed his thoughts and got ready going to the club with his friends and hoping at least to get drunk, it wasn’t as easy with them being werewolves but if he drank enough strong drinks at least he could get dizzy.

So he resigned and forgot about his empty bed at home, drinking with his hyungs was at least easy and pleasant so he let himself go. It was actually a couple of hours later when he noticed the scent, he was in the center of the dancing floor enjoying himself when it hit him. Mate his instincts screamed at him making him halt in his movements while looking around frantically, his mate was here, in the same place. So he trailed the scent not caring of the bodies surrounding him, until he found you.

You had tight black pants that made his mouth water and the lights shined on you like you were the star of the night. To be true you were his in that moment, it was broken way too quickly when he noticed another human, a girl putting his arms around you in a way too intimate way for his liking, a growl scape him but it was drowned in the music, that night he watch you from afar, chest puffed out in anger, he understood you were human, you couldn’t possibly know the implications of him being your mate, still it made him shake with contained rage.

He followed you outside, you were still with that girl now kissing and it took him all in his power to not rip that girl away from you and paint the floor with her blood. He watched how both of you went to an apartment, it was rather small and hidden which was perfect for him. He watched you from afar for days, taking pictures and stealing some clothes the times he could get inside your apartment, he planed and waited for the perfect time, and with patience he for rid of that abomination that you called partner and made her suffer the right amount for touching what was rightfully his, that night after finishing your lover he went after you. He wasn’t about to let you get out of his sight again.

Taehyung

Tae was an outgoing and friendly werewolf, the last part hidden for the public for obvious reasons, he had friends everywhere and every time he met someone new he hoped to find his soulmate, he was a hopeless romantic, he had the picture perfect kind of meeting with his mate inside his head and a lifetime planed out for the both of you.

It all went down the drain when his new friend came to a little party in his apartment with his partner, he didn’t realize at the beginning, it was just the rush of smelling for the first time the scent of his destined one, so he looked around for you trying to be subtle about it, trying to calm himself a little.

Seeing you for the first time wasn’t quite how he imagined to happen but it still was perfect, you were alone momentarily when he saw you, a little dressed up and so otherworldly, you were a vision, all came to climax point when your eyes fell on his making him shiver, God your eyes were so profound, like as if galaxies were trapped inside you, the eyes were the door to the soul right, and yours didn’t let down.

He smiled and you did the same "hello, I’m Taehyung , I’m afraid I don’t know your name" he said putting his best smile for you and you did the same " oh I’m y/n nice to meet you Taehyung" you said and he was speechless, your voice was so charming to the ear.

Both of you talked for precious minutes until it all went down hill "oh Taehyung this is my boyfriend, I think both of you know each other" you said smiling at the other mail making Taehyung halt.

Boyfriend? You had a boyfriend, someone else had touched you; you the one person who was his and his alone, the mere thought made his blood boil and he had to restrain himself from ripping the guy head off.

"yeah I know him" he said, voice deep with anger. After that he lived for you, it was quite easy to become friends with his destined one, he fell in live with each moment close to you, but his Possessiveness grew twice as fast, and soon he couldn’t take it anymore, so one night he called your boyfriend, just go out like friends right? He made sure to hide the body well, the taste of blood was a normal thing for werewolves but it was particularly satisfactory knowing he had got rid of that good for nothing bastard.

That night you were finally his.

Jungkook

"come on kook, you always talk about how you want to find your mate and live happily ever after with them, but if you continue locking you up in the house that will never happen" Namjoon said to the boy un the room, Jungkook groaned at his hyung words. But again, his mate wasn’t a wolf that much could tell, and now a human mate wasn’t that bad but it wasn’t what he wanted in the beginning, having to accept that was a little hard.

Now though months after his hyungs were done with him, ready to let the guy out in the city to just at least look, so he groaned against and did what he was told.

That how he ended up in the center of the city, it was a Saturday and the market was full of humans and some hidden werewolves, the overwhelming conglomeration of smell were a little too much for him if it wasn’t for the fact that he just smelled something more in the crowd.

He pushed people out of his path walking like a maniac after some of his victims, he looked around for a face, he didn’t really knew which exactly but he knew the moment he’d lay eyes on his mate he would know, an that how it happened.

You weren’t looking at him when he saw you for the first time, you were smiling to a seller when the later gave you a bag, the cold air of November had pushed some of your hair to your face and you pushed it aside with one hand after, letting him stare at you with complete adoration.

You looked so innocent and beautiful, a scarf grappled around your neck and a beanie on your head made you look so cozy and adorable, you were like a fairy, a being so enchanting and ethereal, too good to step foot on the undeserving ground under your feet.

You were carrying multiple bags, a little too much for you because you soon were loosing the grasp you had on some things, but he ran to you helping you and making you steady again.

"oh God, I thought I was about to die for a second" you said a little put of breath from the scare of having all fall to the ground, your voice was light and velvety, better than even his mother voice in the late nights where she sang him to sleep; you looked up at him and the smile he had marveled at before was now directed to him in all his splendor "thank you for helping me" you said "ah, Ah! Yeah your welcome" he said a little awkward, shyness coming in full force.

You tried to take everything in your hands again but he took more bags instead "let me help you" he said, not wanting to part from you so soon "oh there’s no need really I can manage" you said not wanting to take advantage of his mice act, but he shook his head not relenting "it’s not a problem, I want to help" you look at him perplexed for a second but then smiled "okay then you kind sir" you said letting him carry most of the things without any kind of difficulty "follow me then, I don’t live far"

You both spoke on the way to your apartment, Jungkook was completely floored with your beauty, and a little preoccupied for your innocence, to be honest, who let an stranger accompany you to your house, stupid really, but he just found it so endearing. True you lived close and it all ended way too soon for his liking, and then the hombre dropped "honey you're back" another voice said, a man around your age appeared from your apartment and Jungkook soon felt the flames of jealousy grow inside him.

You had a boyfriend, God you were in a relationship with another man, another man who had touched what was his, who had kissed you and held you, oh dear, he would pay for it.

No gifs are mine

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weirdochick56 · 5 years

Text

Troublemaker- John Shelby Imagine

John Shelby x Reader

Warnings: Explicit Language.

Disclaimers: I don’t own any PB characters/plots mentioned.

Word Count: 1,985 words

Summary: The reader is new to Small Heath but is already brewing up trouble. She heads to the Garrison afterward and there she catches John boy’s eye. She’s fiery and brave and against every word of caution can’t help but fall for those deep blue eyes as well.

A/N: I’ve been watching Peaky Blinders obsessively and can’t seem to stop, so I did what I always do when I join a new fandom. I wrote a fanfic. I’m also thinking about writing a Michael and Tommy one.

The thick smoke of Small Heath filled your lungs as you took huge gulps of air through parted ruby red lips which were probably smudged by now. The wide smile on your face was starting to induce a barely-noticeable ache on your cheeks.

“Bloody hell, Y/n, you’re fucking insane!” Your best friend, Y/b/f’s, strides slow down to a speed-walk as she laughs loudly.

You grin mischievously at her, trouble sparkling clearly in your youthful y/e/c eyes. “Am I?” You shrug, walking proudly through the murky streets. “I don’t think it’s all that crazy. That bitch was talking shite about me.”

Y/b/f raises an unconvinced brow. “So you decided the best option to put that to a screeching halt to that was to beat her to a pulp?”

You look down at your bloodied knuckles with a slight wince, a dark, twisted part of you enjoying the pain burning through your bruised hand. “Yes.”

She throws her head back, laughs bubbling from her throat and infectious enough to erupt some from you too. You giggle, bumping your hips with her as your heels dig into the wet ground.

“You totally fucked that shit-eating, smug smirk off her hideous face. I loved when you brought your fist down on her throat!” She squeals. “You are a true savage my friend!” She pats your back with pride.

And it was true. You’d always been a troublemaker. A true rebel at heart. It wasn’t like you didn’t want to be or act like a proper lady, you just...couldn’t. It wasn’t your nature to abide by the rules, much less the ones are written down for women, no matter how hard you tried.

When you and your single mother moved to Birmingham a few weeks ago, you were hoping for a fresh start from the gossiping small town you’d originated from. Spewed lies of the nature of your father’s death had been the main reason behind the move, but alongside it was your behavior. Your mom had it stuck in her head that you were out of control. The fighting, the rioting, the snarky remarks to anyone who attempted to be nice...you always managed to find a way to get in trouble.

So when you’d gotten here and met someone who understood your madness, or at least supported it, Y/b/f, you were thrilled. It was no surprise that you’d already gotten into a fight with someone within just a few weeks. But the girl deserved it.

You’d been enjoying your day at the bullring with your friend when suddenly, the girl hurled some disgusting, misguided comment at you as you walked past then began giggling with her friends. It was the most offensive thing anyone had ever said to you, so after getting over your initial shock at her mere audacity, you clench your fists and turn back around, running full force at her and tackling her the ground.

She let’s out a loud yelp, attempting to fight off your iron-grip on her hair, all the while screaming even more prejudiced comments against “your kind” (whatever that meant). People quickly gathered around as you both fought, with your fury easily overpowering her weak attempts to defend herself.

So long story short, she probably wouldn’t be eating dinner that day from all the dirt she had filling up her stomach.

Walking slowly, suddenly, you get a brilliant idea. Smirking, you turn to your friend and wiggle your brows. “Wanna go to the Garrison to celebrate my victory?”

Your friend’s joyful face immediately falls. “W-what?”

It was no secret the Garrison was the spot where the infamous Shelby clan often went for a drink or two. In fact, they owned it. The kings of Small Heath, the gangster leaders of the terribly dangerous Peaky Blinders, the scariest gang of them all.

Y/b/f had warned you about them, advising you to stay far away from them and the Garrison. To be honest, you couldn’t really see what the big deal with them was. They were rarely around you.

But you’d also been curious about them the moment you got here, so it wasn’t really a matter of whether you’d see them or not, but when.

She shakes her head furiously. “No. W-we can’t.”

You roll your eyes at her, walking closer to the famous pub, heart racing. “Says who?”

She gulps audibly, gripping your arm tightly in order to halt your progressive movements to the business. “I do.”

You scoff at her, looking evenly into her eyes. “Would you calm down? It’s not that big a deal. I just want a drink.”

She shakes her head insistingly. “What if one of them takes a liking to you and then-“

You cut her off abruptly. “Y/b/f, no one’s gonna take a liking to me.” You gesture to yourself. “I literally look like I just rolled around in the fucking dirt willingly.” You tug her as she stumbles along hesitatingly. “Plus, even if one of them did, what makes it think I’d ever let them touch me?”

She releases a shuddering breath. “You don’t get much of a choice in the matter.”

“We’ll see.”

The Garrison was more beautiful than you could’ve ever imagined this place to be. Gold was the color that stuck out the most to you amongst the wooden, dark background and flailing drunks.

They were boisterous as they chattered and laughed, clashing their cups and chugging their designated alcoholic beverages down like it was water.

You smile brightly, immediately going for the bar.

The bartender, an older man, eyes you with quirked brows, the fact that he suspected you a newcomer clear as day to you.

You ignore his questioning gaze and sit on a stool, your friend following suit with a nervous glance around.

“Dark rum for me and my friend please.” You smile politely at the man.

He shakes his head at himself but nods at you, turning around to retrieve the glasses. He places them both in front of you with a light slam. You feel y/b/f jump slightly at the noise and scoff at her jumpiness.

As he pours the amber liquid into the glass, her hand suddenly grips your arm tightly, fingernails digging into your skin urgently.

You frown, looking up at her. “Jesus fuck Y/b/f! What-“ your eyes follow her trail of view and you immediately stop talking.

Men, tall and handsome and sporting flat caps, and expensive fabrics for their coats stand near the doorway of the pub, surveying it slightly.

They emitted an intense aura of dominance and people in the pub immediately quieted down once made aware of their presence.

It was eerily silent.

You turn to your friend with raised brows, whispering under your breath. “And who the bloody hell are they?”

She looks frightful. “The Shelby brothers.”

You snort at the breathiness of her voice, turning back to face them confidently. These were the Shelby’s? The so-called kings of Birmingham? The ones to be feared? They didn’t scare you all that much.

They looked menacing as hell, you weren’t gonna lie. Probably were too. But...you liked it. Something about the swagger in their step ignited a big fire in your belly. Excitement, exhilaration.

As they walk further in, you notice the one on the left with a toothpick in his mouth. He was clearly the youngest out of the three, what with his youthful handsome face. He was absolutely gorgeous with those plump pink lips and high cheeks bones, a trait seemingly running in the family. Even though you couldn’t see his eyes due to the shadow cast over them by the flat cap, you were convinced they were breath-taking.

Suddenly, almost as if he felt you looking, his gaze snaps to yours, head tilting up and dimmed light hitting his striking features, as your eyes clash. Your breath hitches and your diaphragm doesn’t expand. They were even more breathtaking than you’d ever suspected.

They were the color of a clear blue sky. Of a vast, beautiful glistening ocean. One you were more than willing to drown in.

The toothpick swirled around in his mouth as his eyes flashed with confusion then surprise then curiosity at you.

You snap back to reality and blush, looking away from him. Your heart felt like it was about to fall out of your chest with how fast it was beating, and for the first time, your hands get clammy and a shaking breath leaves you.

You shake your head to clear your thoughts and pick up the dark rum, downing it with a throw back of your head and clicking of your tongue at the bitter aftertaste.

“You go,” you motion to your friend, you purses her lips in hesitation, eyes still set behind you.

You can feel their presence next to you as the chatter revives in the pub and they slide onto the bar but you try to ignore them.

“Oh for fuck’s-“ you sigh in exasperation, throwing your hands up and twirling around on your heels.

They were facing the bar until they hear your little outburst and now their eyes are set on you.

You smirk a little and swat your friend’s hand on your elbow attempting to convince you to turn away. “Are you going to kill us?”

“ ‘At the bloody fook?” The eldest mutters at you and you raise a brow.

“You heard me. Are you going to kill us for drinking here?” You lean casually against the bar, voice challenging.

The middle one, but seemingly the leader, steps in, raised brows. He speaks in a teasing manner, but with a cautious tongue. They’re all clearly equal parts amused and cautious at your tone with them.

“That wouldn’t be good for business would it, miss?” His voice is soft and elegant and it makes you a little disappointed.

Where was the rugged edge? The rasp of a criminal?

You smirk at them unblushingly. “No, it would not Mr. Shelby.”

Then you turn to Y/b/f. “See? Now drink the fucking rum or I’ll do it for you.”

She gives you a ‘did you really just fucking do that?’ look, and you just shrug. So she nervously rolls her eyes and drinks the entire thing in one gulp.

“What’s your name if you don’t mind me asking love?” The voice, this time, is deep but youthful and definitely has the criminal rasp. It’s Toothpick boy.

You turn to face him again, brows raised. “It does bother me actually.”

He raises a shocked brow at you. “You aren’t from ‘round here are you?”

“Why would you say that?” You thumb your chin, leaning into him.

He smirks and your heart leaps into your throat. “I’m sure I would’ve remembered if you were.”

You’re shocked at his shameless flirting but conceal it nicely. “I suppose so.” You shrug nonchalantly.

He motions to your bedraggled appearance. “What happened to you then?”

You grin innocently. “A dog-faced bitch looked at me wrong so I had to teach her a lesson.”

He chuckles and the sound makes you feel warm. Then he gives you a sultry look. “You’re a feisty one, eh?”

You eye him up and down with indifference, your unimpressed gaze landing on his crotch area. “Probably more feisty than you can handle, big boy. So don’t get any ideas.”

His brothers muffle snickers behind him. He forces himself to scoff out a laugh, clearly taken aback by your brazen response.

You don’t give him the time to respond, tugging a few quid from your purse and slamming it down on the counter. You loop your arm through Y/b/f’s and smile up at the Shelby’s.

“Let’s go Y/b/f.” Then you nod at them in acknowledgment and make your way to the exit.

Toothpick boy calls after you. “The name’s John by the way love!”

You don’t stop on his account, calling over your shoulder. “I didn’t ask, love!”

His brother’s snickers and the eldest’s approving “I like her” is the last thing you hear before stepping back out to the cold Small Heath air.

***

Hey guys!! My first Peaky Blinders Imagine and it’s sort of short, but I like it short and sweet!

I hope you enjoyed, lovelies.

Please, please leave feedback. Messages, asks, replies, I see them all!!

Tell me if you wanna be tagged in any shape or form. Now that Peaky Blinders is a fandom I’m more than happy to write, you can ask to be tagged in that too.

A Special Thanks To:

@sherlockedtash88

@jessikared97

@lilypalmer1987

@mogaruke - My MAGNIFICENT forevers.

#john shelby #john shelby x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinder imagine #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader

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